#(and those are just the ones mentioned in this post

[pomefioredove]

can I request house wardens + leech twins with a reader who doesn't eat enough bc Crowley doesn't give them enough for food, and they end up really ill and collapsing or something. I'm cravin some fluffy comfort rn, pls and thank you 🙏

I got you🫡🫡 as someone who's been through an eerily similar situation, I really liked this request

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ another crowley moment™️

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jade, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, mentions of food and not eating

Riddle wouldn't even have to like you to rush to your side. but he does like you, which makes it all the worse

after checking your vitals, you're in the infirmary. he's got doctors for parents, after all, and he knows that malnutrition is bad

he should have seen the signs...

with exams coming, he's been so busy, and he assumed that you were just tired from studying

but he can feel guilty later. right now, he needs to focus on you getting well again, and not killing Crowley

(then, of course, he'll look for some legal statute or clause that he can threaten Crowley with so you're fed properly)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona noticed you'd been acting a little weird lately, but watching you collapse still puts him in shock

luckily, Ruggie and Jack are nearby to help you to the infirmary, so Leona can focus on hunting Crowley down like an animal

there are very few times where Leona is particularly grateful for his status, but this is one of them. just one word on how his family will be hearing about Crowley's neglect, and the old bastard is begging him for forgiveness

even after that, Leona still sends Ruggie with snacks and drinks to Ramshackle

and if you ever scare him like that again, you'll regret it (lovingly)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the news of you collapsing during flight lessons reaches Octavinelle rather fast. no one is particularly surprised, since Floyd had mentioned how easily you'd been bruising lately just the night before, but everyone is certainly worried

Azul is the first at your side, asking you all sorts of questions, worried sick. Jade has to remind him to give you space to rest, since you look exhausted (had you always had those dark circles? how could Azul have not noticed?)

now, Azul and the tweels could easily find a way to pressure Crowley, but they know better than to trust him

from now on, you'll be eating in the Mostro Lounge, free of charge

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

perhaps Kalim was just oblivious, because he really didn't think anything was wrong until you were suddenly on the floor in front of him

sure, you'd been a little moody lately, but he figured it was just a thing you were going through. and besides, you know that you can talk to him about anything... right?

Jamil hurries to check your pulse, and shouts for him to get the school nurse- which is jarring, because Jamil never shouts

when you explain everything to Kalim later, he feels... terrible. he should've known- no, he should've asked

Kalim insists you stay at Scarabia while you're recovering, and makes sure you have the most enriching, delicious meals money can buy

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil knew it was bad, but not this bad. if he had known you were on the verge of collapsing, he would've taken a firmer approach to getting you to eat

you're going to worry him to death someday, you know that?

after he's done verbally eviscerating Crowley, he'll insist on joining you at every meal. he'll eat at Ramshackle, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, if that's what it takes

he's subtle about it, at least

if he notices that your plate feels empty, he'll just take some food from his and put it on yours. gracefully, elegantly, without a word

you'll come home one day to see your kitchen stocked with vitamins, supplements, and apples (courtesy of Epel)

<3 and a note that says he'll treat you to dinner whenever you want

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

never scare Idia like that ever again. he wasn't even with you when you collapsed, and he STILL nearly had a heart attack

listen, he knows he's not a great role model when it comes to nutritional eating, but you have got to tell him these things. he would've had Ortho go get takeout! or something!

typical Crowley behavior, SMH. what does he think you are? a rabbit? even the school horses get treated better...

no way that Idia is going to even bother with that old fart, anyway. you want something? he'll get it for you. you don't even have to ask, he'll just send food to your place (and have Ortho check your vitals more often but shhh)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I would not want to be in the room when Malleus finds out about this

not even the building. you know what? I'd steer clear of the whole island, because it will not be pretty

when you collapse in front of him, it feels like he's dying, too. the panic sets in, and he sends Lilia to look after you, and Silver and Sebek to escort you to the infirmary, and then he casually threatens to smite Crowley. obviously

if the students and staff of NRC thought Malleus was scary just being Malleus, he's terrifying when he's mad

(rest assured that you will be getting ten times the amount of food from now on)

it's thunderstorms for days after, but he never leaves your side

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

I'm really thinking about that one Ghost post you wrote about him basically making himself at home at the reader's place when she found him near dead in the woods and it still is scratching my brain all right 😭 him devoting his life to her and the fact her husband is there completely upset about this all is the perfect drama.

the thing i love most about this is that i never mentioned ghost by name in that post <3 not once <3 but you're right. it is so, so ghost-coded. ghoded, if you will.

you're the hands in which he rests, a weapon; submissive in the way (as was once said) a sheep-guarding hound is submissive to the livestock it protects. 

so mismatched is his demeanor with yours--harsh and scarred--and that it frightens the townspeople around you. and your guards.

when you do get hurt, they jump at the chance to accuse Ghost of hurting you. no matter how you insist you're fine and demand the townsfolk see reason--you witnessed the attack, for god's sake! not to mention your wound is shallow and looks much worse than it is. but the guards lock him up in the small dungeon under your family's estate.

at your direction, Simon doesn't fight his captors. you both know, for all his strength, he'll be killed if the guards see their chance to take his life. they've never trusted him.

and so he's hauled off, chained up like a dog, lying in wait for his sheep. 

when you return to see him, having pushed through those who insisted you stay away, that he's dangerous, that he hurt you--only then does Simon strain against those chains. he wants to be at your side. he's driven half out of his mind with worry that the assassin who hurt you might come back and finish the job without him there to protect you. 

he'd pull the chain bolts clean out of the rotting brick to get back to you if not for the guarantee you'd be kept from him if he did. although it's not by your choice. 

he's even willing to confess to crimes he never committed, would never commit, if it meant being in your debt, imprisoned in your home, back by your side.

you stay with him as long as you can. his arms are locked behind him and he rests on his knees, more animal than man, as he presses his face against your waist. his desperation abates once you take his face in your hands to comfort him. he's lightheaded.

you assure him you'll be back, that you'll figure this out and get him home and out of those chains soon. he strains against the chains again as you pull away.

it's not until there's a second attempt on your life that he's vindicated.

the only story anyone knows is that when you screamed, by the time your guards made it up to your bedchamber, the blood from your attacker's corpse was already soaking into your rug. one of them tried and failed to coax the bloody dagger out of your shaking hands. your palms were clean. 

you tell the guards this was the man who attacked you before. you tell them to bury him and not speak of this again; to leave your chamber for you to clean.

once they're gone, Simon emerges from the shadows, hands bloody, to disentangle your hands (white knuckled) from the dagger, to usher you into the wash basin. you see the iron cuffs on his wrists, chains snapped off, and say nothing.

nobody is ever quite sure who released him. just as nobody is sure who the assassin worked for.

strangely, your husband seems to avoid you after that.

;)

more Ghost / masterlist

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ SWEET TALK. featuring choso.

↻ choso lives for one thing ; to make sure his precious girlfriend is never unsatisfied.

tags : cunniligus, dirty talk, body worship, male masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, mentions of face sitting, feral choso // wc. 0.7k

author's note : i lowkey wanna thank @toadtoru for sending in an ask about this before i even posted it, because i used some of those ideas to improve on this :3 in true homage to my username choso is a complete slut in this lolsies ;) one more to go and this event is finished, thanks for sticking around for THIS long i love everyone here >o<

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

if there’s one thing CHOSO firmly believes in, it’s that you aren’t just his girlfriend, but some supreme deity from heaven above. it sounds completely ridiculous, but he believes it more than anything, especially in moments like this. 

you just look so beautiful above him on the couch, thighs parted slightly and fingers caressing the sensitive mound in between your legs, head tipped back and lips parted in a silent ‘o’ as your toes curl into the carpet. angelic, he thinks, and he can’t wait to receive permission to touch you.

“choso…” your voice is smooth like butter yet sweet like caramel, and choso can feel his cock begin to press up against his slacks. “c’mere.”

yes. that’s all he needs before he’s eagerly crawling in between your legs to lap at your cunt, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he pulls them apart in earnest. “shit… missed me, did she?” his rambles are fueled by pure lust and delusion, and as he eats you out, choso begins to talk into your cunt. “missed her too… poor baby can’t go too long without her sweet boyfriend, huh…”

fingers tangle in his dark locks as you pull him closer, effectively muffling his ramblings by grinding your lower half on his tongue. the way he eats you out is feverish, his wet muscle alternating between your inflamed clit and pulsing hole interchangeably. and choso can’t help himself from getting fired up by your lewd display too, his own hips grinding down onto  the couch as he finds solace in between your legs. 

you, on the other hand, are positively reeling, legs twitching uncontrollably as choso continues to make a mess of your poor cunt. you wish you could return to him the same pleasure tenfold, but all you can do is sit and take it, helpless to his ministrations. “cho, cho, ‘s too much, baby, s-slow down…” 

begging is futile. choso is hypnotised, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head in an immediate reflection of your own reaction. “sorry baby, can’t, you taste s’good, don’t wanna…”

neither of you are in your right mind, but choso especially. when you cry out from orgasm for the first time, he barely takes note, his tongue on your clit never letting up as he brings two fingers to the entrance of your weeping cunt. the other hand previously on your thigh is now shoved into his boxers, and he’s fisting himself just as quickly as his fingers begin to plow your pussy. 

he’s killing you, but you love it. his brown eyes peek up in between your legs, and you just catch his expression, pupils dilated with lust as he watches you twitch above him. he mumbles something onto your clit before he’s licking and kissing it again, and you begin to think you might actually die. 

“c’mon, baby,” he groans, hips thrusting forward into his palm as he continues to eat. “c’mon baby, gimme another one– fuck, please, please…”

“choso, i can’t…” you truly believe that, given the way he’s already on his way to giving you another orgasm in the short span of five minutes. but he needs it so bad, needs you to cum for him so bad that he speeds up, thumb now joining his tongue to stimulate your clit in unison. “choso!”

“that’s it, baby, that’s it, oh, she’s close, isn’t she?” you can barely believe that he’s treating your pussy like its own person, but fuck is it turning you on. you hiccup pitiful whimpers as your thighs begin to tremble again, knees closing inwards and trapping choso’s head in between your legs.

if he were to die in this position, he wouldn’t mind. your release sprays his lips in repeated spurts, juices dribbling down his chin and some even dripping onto the flared head of his cock. it’s that which tips choso over the edge, and he’s spurting ropes onto the carpet, his own eyes finding the back of his head rapidly as his nose jerks against your clit.

“baby…” he stares down at the mess he’s made on the floor and then back at you, who’s laying spread eagle on the couch, chest rapidly rising and falling. “you gotta sit on my face next time.”

PREVIOUS : SURVIVAL ft. sniper mask NEXT : INKED ft. suguru geto

liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK main masterlist.

© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[sketchedatrocities]

IT'S SLOWHOG - IT'S THE BOY

Slowhog is a gag fakemon whose stats are bad and movepool is bad and is bad. I love him. His lore is that he's highly edible, slow and weak. A slug/pig that recovers from steak being carved off it without issue. I want a plushie of him. The shiny version of him is green.

I decided he needed to be explored in every way and typed him out like an eeveelution. 

Porkpast was well received.

I know I did well when people pointed to each one and said it was slept on. Google 'Velvet Worm' and 'Sea pig'.

Having done all the types I moved onto Pre-evolutions.

Brekkie won hands down, I'm sorry P-Flop lovers but there you are. It's shiny would also be green. The Progress of: Brekkie -> Slowhog -> Porkpast is the correct line as it's: Breakfast -> Lunch -> Digestion Digestion is also Dinner but lunch is haunting you.

The Hogly Trinity

The Devs mentioned adding a new 'Strange' Type in the next update, which gave me something to new Hog with

This satisfied me at the time.

Running out of Hogs to Pork Post with I moved on to special forms. His Oinks will save us from the Kaiju.

Lack of new Hog made me plyable in my morals and I made meme material with him.

'Hogchamp' is now a server emote.

At this point someone in the discord posted a Slowhog made in SPORE which I grasped onto as a new hog to draw. I was grateful for this.

Next came Pride Month, which is a time we draw Slowhog.

Obviously. This is Pridehog and it's shiny version. You did not need me to tell you this.

It had been a while since I had hogged. I awoke from a dream about pork and sketched this out on a loose sheet of Clipstudio raster layer I had laying next to my bed. This is a sound type, I think. I imagine hell sounds like this at all times, except when you say something embarrassing, at which point it all cuts out and everyone looks at you condescending.

hink honk, honk, hinkhink honk - it went I tried to ignore it but the next dream told me I was 'needed'. I woke up uncomfortable and bussed into to the Sex Factory, where I work. My eyes were bleary after my shift (which I can't describe due to Tumblr's tos) and I stared at one of those bus seat patterns like you remember from school trips. I thought I was going mad. I took a picture.

"Do you see this?" I asked the tall and busty woman who kept dropping her keys and saying whoops and bending over in front of me. The other woman who had her keys on a loop through her jeans kept staring at her, assumably in dismay at her lack of practical key handling. "Huh?" She said. "Sorry about my keys they-" I snapped my fingers rudely (I was scared) "Do you see that Pink pattern on the bus seats?" She looked confused and dropped her keys again. "No? They're fully blue." I looked back at the seats, they were fully blue. The picture on the digital camera I carry with me as an ironic anachronism displayed the slowhog pattern in full. I got off the bus and decided to draw some details on the Slowhog Evolutions.

You can also get Porkpast by inflating Hogone enough. You can't inflate Porkpast though, he's a ghost.

I felt refreshed, cleansed. But also a touch greasy. I had another dream, but this time the dream creature was a dog who spoke in polish and I realised I was just unhealthily sleep deprived.

Thank you for reading.

Why not download Pokemon Quarantine Crystal for SameBoy or other good Emulators? Perhaps join the discord too. It's fun.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: baby girls, he we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You rinse out the bowl you used for your oatmeal. It’s only as the back door opens that you notice the roar of the mower’s stopped. You put the porcelain in the dishwasher and shut it as you hear footsteps down the hall. It’s almost ten o’clock. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky greets your back as he enters. “I just put fresh water in the hot tub. Might go for a soak myself, try to loosen up these muscles.” 

You face him, “hot tub?” 

“Oh, yeah. Guess that’s new too.” He chuckles. “Another one of my projects.” 

“Right,” you nod. A sudden buzz makes your jump. 

You look around and scurry across the kitchen to grab your phone. It’s a message from your mom. But why would she text you? Can’t she just come downstairs? 

‘Is Bucky still there?’  

You stare at the message and frown. Huh? 

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asks. Your eyes flick up. 

“Um, yeah, erm, it’s my mom...” you shake your head. 

“Right, how’s work going for her?” He plants a hand on the counter and leans. 

“Work? It’s her day off,” you blink. 

“Ah, yeah, she said she didn’t want to wake you up when she left. She got called in. Emergency.” He explains. 

You clutch the phone as you stare at him dumbly. Why didn’t he mention that earlier? Well, it’s not on him, you could have checked. But if she’s gone, why is he still here? 

“Don’t spoil the surprise,” he says, “about the lawn.” 

“I won’t,” you look down and text her back. 

“So how about it? You up for a soak?” He asks again. 

“Um, I’ll think about it. Just gonna chat with my mom,” you waggle your phone at him and meander to the door. 

‘Great. You two can get to know each other.’  

Her answer is disappointing. You thought she’d be surprised, maybe confused. It’s all perfectly normal to them. You’re still adjusting. If she’d told you before you got there, it wouldn’t feel so strange. 

At the same time, you don’t want to let her down. You can’t just ignore her message. You have to try but you feel like you haven’t even had time to settle in. And he’s not the only thing that’s different. Your room doesn’t even feel like yours. 

You stand at the bottom of the stairs. You key in a final reply. ‘Ok’. That’s it. A tepid agreement. 

“Hey,” Bucky surprises you again. “Invitation stands,” he wipes his forehead, his bicep bulging as he does, the muscles of his chest straining. “I’m just going to get in my trunks.” 

“Uh, I... I’ll think about it,” you make yourself take a step up and climb steadily, refusing to look back. 

You stare at the phone. You don’t want to be rude. You’re sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why your mother didn’t mention him. You might do the same in her shoes. After so long being single, she was probably just letting it pan out. 

Still, she could have said something when you were on the train. 

Whatever. It’s not your place to complain. You’re still living under her roof, rent-free, after years of tuition on her dime and a lifetime of dependency. You can pretend like this is all okay. 

You go into your room and shut the door behind you. You wouldn’t have a swim suit in the dresser, you didn’t bother to pack it for college. Wherever your other clothes are, it should be there. You just don’t know where that is. 

A tank top and shorts should do the trick. You prefer that to an actual swimsuit. It won’t feel so revealing.  

You take out a hot pink spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of black shorts. You switch out your clothes, catching your foot in the shorts and tripping slightly. You stand up, shirtless, leaning on the vanity as you get your balance.  

You glimpse your reflection and shy away. You tie the string of the shorts and reach for the tank top. You pull it over your head and check yourself in the mirror. It will do. You hope. 

As you come out of the room, another door opens. You peer down the hall as Bucky emerges from your mother’s room. You gulp and flick your eyes away from him. He wears a pair of light blue shorts, so short you might mistake them for briefs. His thick thighs and torso flex with his movement as he approaches, a towel over his shoulder. 

“You changed your mind?” He asks as he comes closer. 

“Erm, well, I... I’ll give it a try. I’ve never really been in a hot tub, so...” You poke your fingertips together nervously. You don’t want to tell him your mother told you to be social. 

“Great, kinda feel like a loser sitting in there by myself. It’s really too bad your mom had to go in.” He sighs. 

Yeah, it is. You wonder why he didn’t mention it sooner. Or why he’s hanging around. You guess you don’t really know how things work around here anymore. 

“Don’t forget a towel,” he winks as he pats the one on his shoulder. “I’ll go get the cover off and you can come hop on in.” 

He brushes by you, his knuckle glancing off you as he does. You shuffle down to the linen closet and take out a towel. You don’t follow him right away. 

Your stomach is a flurry of nerves. It’s just the oatmeal. It always sits like a lump. You didn’t think about that, you were just hungry. 

You go downstairs and drag your feet to the back door. You come out onto the deck and peer around. The tub sits in the deck, installed where the table used to be. It steams as Bucky steps into it. He sighs and groans, muscles clenching up his back and sides. He must work out a lot. 

You look down at yourself. Self-consciousness creeps over you. It’s been a while since you thought so much about it. You tried not to focus much on your body; as long as you liked what you’re wearing, you don’t worry about what’s underneath. You don’t have the most extravagant taste but you have a few cute pieces. 

He lowers himself into the water and lets out another drone. He shifts around to face you but doesn’t seem to notice you as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. He takes a deep breath so his chest puffs out. 

You set your towel next to his on the small table near the edge. You near and stand at the lip of the tub. Can you just sneak away? 

“Hey,” his voice rolls over the bubbling water, “it’s not bad. Come on. It feels great. It’ll loosen you right up.” 

You nod and bite your lip. You get down on your butt before you ease yourself down onto the seat of the tub. The water steams and spits just beneath your shoulders. It is nice though it does raise a thick sheen across your forehead. 

“Mmm, trust me, when you’re mine age, you’ll need one of these,” he smirks. “So,” he stretches his arms around the frame of the tub, “what’s the plan, doll?’ 

“The plan?” You flap your lashes. 

“For the summer? Beach days with the girls? You wanna invite some friends over? You can have the tub to yourself,” he offers. 

“Mm, no, I... I’m looking for work. Uh, probably send out more applications.” You shrug. 

“Looking for a job? Ah, right, no more school, huh? Exciting. You got the whole world in front of you.” 

“Mhm, yeah,” you reach to rub your neck. 

“I’m sure you’ll still have time to hang out with your friends,” he insists. 

“Uh, I don’t... I don’t really have any,” you utter. You look away and stare at the fence. 

“No? Well, all my buddies are too busy for me. I know how you feel.” He says, “you know, we could be friends.” 

“Um, yeah, maybe,” you look at him again as you chew your lip. His eyes snap up from your chest. You look down and try not to show your horror. Your nipples are entirely visible as the pink fabric clings to you. You cross your arms. “You’ll be busy with my mom.” 

“Not all the time,” he says “You know, ever since she got this promotion, she’s been too busy for me.” 

“Ah, erm, I'm sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “I don’t know...” 

“Mm, I know why,” he tilts his head. 

You stare at him in confusion. 

“You know a guy like me shouldn’t be kept waiting around. You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you? You can’t help but feel bad knowing I’m left all on my own. Lonely.” He traces a finger along the edge of the tub as he speaks. 

“I... guess. I don’t... know? I just...” You look away again. You can hardly stand the heat of the water as it boils your blood. 

He snickers and you wince as he shifts around the tub, sliding into the seat next to you. He slips his arm behind you as he does. You shrink down and stare at the deck railing. What is he doing? 

“This is nice, isn’t it? Getting to know each other?” His fingers tickle your shoulder as he crowds you. “You know, seems like we have a lot in common, doesn’t it?” 

“Um, erm,” you squirm in the seat. “I think... maybe... I should...” 

“Relax, it won’t do you any good if you don’t relax,” he girds. “I’m just saying, baby girl, seems like we’re both pretty lonely.” 

He leans back into the hot tub and lets his head fall back. You bend your arm, rubbing your other, and fidget. You want to just go but you’re scared to move. You don’t think you’re really afraid of him, he probably won’t stop you, but you’re just all locked up. 

You sit there, staring through the slats at the green lawn. The water babbles and your ears pulse. He continues to caress your shoulder. 

“Mm, baby girl, come on, just let yourself...” he taps your arm, “lean back, huh?” 

You obey. You lean back into the tub and slide down in the seat, trying to mimic him. Your head hits his arm as you recline. It is nice as the jets shoot up your back. 

“Wait, wait, you gotta get in the right...” he grabs your thigh and drags you towards him. “..place. Make sure you hit all the pressure points.” 

As he moves you, you spasm and cry out in surprise. A jet blows right against your shorts, a stream of water that sends tingles through you. You try to move back but he holds you in place. He squeezes your thigh and kneads. 

“Ah, yeah, baby girl, right there? Doesn’t it feel good?” 

You squeak as the water hits your clit through your thin shorts. You put your hand on his and wiggle. That only makes it more intense. Does he know what’s happening? 

“Please...” you gasp. 

“What did I say? Relax,” he continues to rub his fingertips into your thigh. “You’re all tense, baby girl. Let it go.” 

Your eyes round and you contort, trying to take the pressure off your clit. It doesn’t help. You puff out and grab onto his arm without thinking. He needs to let go. You can feel a throbbing inside of you. It hurts. Please, stop. 

The sensation crests and coils through you. Your muscles clench then release all at once. You squeal in shock and shame as your body twitches. You think you just... orgasmed? 

“Baby girl, what is it?” Bucky leans into you. 

“I...” you heave. “I-- nothing.” 

“Mmm, nothing?” His hand crawls up your leg and over your stomach. He twists and bends his arm, cradling your head and turning you to face him. You shiver as he cups your chest through the wet fabric and runs his thumb over the hard bud beneath. “Cause I think you just came in this nice clean water.” He leans in closer until you feel his breath against your lips, “baby girl, I thought you were going to be good for me?” 

[perfctvelvet]

Dominant Billie Eilish? 🙏 pretty please

The Games We Play; Billie Eilish/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. Established relationship, semi-toxic relationship, brief mentions of gaslight, implied infidelity, D/s elements, name calling ('slut'), degradation, teasing, strap-on sex, mentions of ass play, use of sex toys (vibrator).

"I've had enough of the games now, Y/n. You're starting to annoy me."

It was ironic to watch Billie sit at the table and sulk to herself as if she didn't get herself into this situation. These games that she claims to hate oh so much where the ones that she started and wanted to finish once she wasn't getting her way. You have just been with her for way too long not to be able to see her through and through. Billie hated the bitter taste of her own medicine, but she should've thought about that before she brushed you off when you asked about who that was on that instagram post.

You made her watch you flirt with a past fling all night. You could barely remember the lady's name when you two first bumped into her, but quickly she became valuable to you. All you had asked for was honesty about a post that was posted to tens of millions of people, but instead you were shut out. Billie brought this on herself, and it felt good to see her sitting there feeling sorry for you.

"Ooh, tell me more about your trip to Greece! I've been waiting to go, but sometimes it's hard when others won't cooperate with their schedules."

Billie was within earshot of the entire conversation and you didn't spare her one bit. You left her emotionally beaten and bruised every time you laid a hand on the body of someone you came close to being with years ago. Your attraction had faded greatly as you only had eyes for your girlfriend now, but Billie doesn't know that and at this moment anyone would think that the relationship was on its last legs. But just like you know Billie, she knows you too well for her own good. You were trying to make her feel the same way you did over an instagram post. Well, you had one the battle as your attempts to make Billie jealous was working, but Billie was well intentioned on winning the war.

Now as she confronts you about the only thing you can do is play dumb. You weren't going to give her the upper hand by outright admitting what you were doing. The way she dismissed you about posting photos of another girl damn near straddling her kept you up for days. Those 3 to 4 hours of sleep left you irritable and willing to do anything to get your point across. So in your eyes, you're not doing anything worse your girlfriend hasn't done.

"What are you talking about?" You asked her, cocking your head to the side and feigning innocence. 

Normally your pout was endearing but right now Billie wanted to fuck it off your face. Still surrounded by strangers who could possibly hear your conversation, Billie gives a deep sigh and she hangs her head down. It was a sign of utter defeat to you.

"Y/n," she sighs before leaning in and whispering, "You really want to do this right now?"

Those simple words were a warning shot. Billie didn't have to say much else. She didn't have to explain that she knows you after being together for two years. She didn't have to explain that they've done this song and dance before and that it's getting stale. Both are committed and faithful to this relationship, but sometimes things get hazy and the relationship is tested. Billie knows she's in the wrong, but getting those words to come out of her mouth is like pulling teeth. You two should be passed this stage, especially as you get older together, but clearly both of you are wrong. When one of you acts up, the other feels like they have no choice but to retaliate and somehow you're always the one always having to retaliate.

You don't want to hear it from her. You don't want to sit in the car on the way home and hear her give you some holier-than-thou speech as if she's the mature one in the relationship. It was easier to talk to you like that when you were side by side and she didn't have to look you in the eyes and act like she didn't do what she did. Did it feel good to flirt with someone you're no longer interested in? No, that part didn't feel good, but being able to glance over and see Billie sulking while surrounded by happy, partying people, it was better than any high or shot of alcohol here tonight.

"What am I doing? I'm at a party that you're ruining the vibe because you want to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Get up, go talk to your friends." You didn't have much else to say to her and she kept her mouth shut too. Billie had nothing to say. Have you succeeded?

Billie was never afraid to drag out an argument, even in a setting like this. There was the great texting fiasco of Summer 2023 that ended with you staying at your friend's place for the weekend. So she was uncharacteristically quiet now. And in a surprising move, she just smiled at you. Your faces were so close together you thought she was going to kiss, but instead she leaned back. She grabbed her glass filled with whatever she had and brought it to her lips. Never did she pull her eyes away from you and you felt your grip on the situation loosening. You don't know what it means for you, for tonight and for the future, but you stepped away from her. You turned your back to her and joined a group of mutual friends. The former fling you were flirting with was nowhere to be found, but it didn't matter anymore. 

You felt Billie's eyes burning a hole right through you for the rest of the night. Despite the room being so loud, there was a ringing in your ears that dulled the sound of everything around you. You don't know how you were able to make it through the rest of the night acting like you usual self. The end of the night and car ride home were unbearable and equally silent. Billie's steady breathing was the only sound to fill your ears; so calm yet just as loud as the club's bass in your ears. The little battle you had earlier? It meant nothing now. Whatever victory you felt was replaced by the dread of worrying what was to come next. You expected a screaming match to take place as soon as the two of you crossed past that threshold into Billie's house. Instead Billie decided to do something she hasn't tried before. She was going to fuck the problem away.

Billie was pissed. The way she grabbed you, you don't think you've seen her so mad before. The two of you are no strangers to things getting a little rough, but there was so much more raw and animalistic about the way she touched you, the way she kissed you. Billie was gunning to win the war and she was going to disarm you in the best way she knew how. You don't understand how pissed she was seeing your flirt with an old fling like that, and what annoyed her the most is that you looked to actually be having a good time. She saw how you looked at this woman who has no name to her. You looked at her as if she meant something. Billie thought the photo she uploaded was to be expected from her and her friends. She thought you knew that sometimes one of them gets a little handsy but there was never any ill-intention behind it. Hell, you've seen it happen in front of your very eyes before and you didn't react. To her the difference between the post and what you did was that you intended to make the situation worse. You looked so into this woman, looking at her the same way you've looked at Billie before. Those eyes are only for her.

Billie wasn't nice or sweet tonight. She didn't tease you or suck on your tits for almost an hour like she usually loves to do. You were pushed onto the bed, face down ass up. You weren't able to see anything with your face in the covers. You had to guess what was happening based on the sounds around you. Billie was stealthy and quick, not giving you a second to adjust to what was going on. You felt something cool and wet hitting between your cheeks. You cursed yourself for not wearing underwear tonight, giving Billie easy access to both of your holes to do whatever she wanted with you. You felt something poke at your entrance and soon you were filled with 8 inches of thickness. The air was plucked right out of you as Billie pushed her strap all the way inside. She watched in awe how your arousal bursted through the seams. She pulled out and your juices had already completely covered her strap.

Billie pushes back into you after a few seconds. She started at a slow pace before gradually picking up speed, fucking you harder and faster. The residual anger from your little stunt tonight was fuleing her. When a girl acts up, sometimes she needs to be put in her place.

"You wanna tell me who that was tonight? Who was that girl, Y/n!"

You feel her grab a handful of your hair and she pulls your face out the bed. Her grip was tight enough to feel a prickly sensation on the edge of your scalp. You pulled your head back further to alleviate the pain. The question she asked you had completely slipped your mind as she filled your poor pussy with every inch of her strap. Billie didn't take so kindly to being ignored, so she asked you again. You could barely speak, but you tried your best.

"W-What girl?" You stutter through each thrust.

"Still playing dumb, huh?"

There was a tinge of playfulness in Billie's voice that could've you if you weren't getting fucked so hard. You were still trying to play the game she was built to beat you at. However, that girl doesn't matter to you and certainly she's irrelevant now. Your skin was flushed and sweaty. The sound of Billie's thighs meeting your ass reverberates in the room. How could you be thinking about some other woman when you're getting fucked within an inch of your life.

"If you wanted to be fucked like this baby all you had to do was laugh. You don't have to fight for my attention when you have it 24/7 sweetheart," Billie teased you with such a clear voice that amazed you she was able to concentrate on making you feel so small and fucking you skillfully. "You knew exactly what you were doing tonight, but you won't want to try that again after I'm done fucking this little pussy of yours."

Her words began to sound fuzzy as the tip of her strap kept agitating your sweet spot. You could barely keep yourself up, your arms giving away. The only thing keeping you up right now was Billie's tight grip on your hair. You were about to cum; dangerously close. All the tell-tale signs of your orgasm began firing off and that just happen to be the moment when Billie decided to pull out of you. You could whine and cry all you want, but Billie still pushed you off her strap. Your orgasm, the one you so desperately wanted, shuttered away as you sobbed into the sheets. You were surely a sight to take in. The strap rests against your ass, smearing your juices into your skin.

"Did you really think I was going to let you cum so fast? You really think you deserve that princess?"

Leave it to Billie to not give in so easily -- you should've seen this coming. You push yourself up on your palms until you're pushed back down onto the bed. Billie didn't have to use much force either which made her laugh at you. You were so weak and you hadn't even cum yet. 

"Pick a number, baby."

You thought you were hearing her wrong. Did she just ask you to pick a fucking number?

"Pick a number. 1-3."

It was stupid to indulge in whatever game she was playing, but you lifted your head and opened your mouth to utter, "2." You don't know why you even answered.

"Hmm," Billie hums. It's hard to read such a small reaction.

The sound of the drawer opening happens again. You don't have to see to know she's grabbing from the bottom "special" drawer, where she got the strap-on from. There were a few other toys in there and you suspect that's where the game comes in at.

"It's too bad you didn't pick 1, but I guess you spared your little ass tonight."

You were just spread out so perfectly for the buttplug she hasn't used on you yet. Billie would've been able to see her reflection in the shiny metal as it slipped into your tightest hole. Stretching your ass out while fucking you would've ruined you, you haven't tried that out yet. She imagines that you would've been begging her for forgiveness and permission to cum. Even seeing it in her active imagination makes her heart skip a beat. But, fate has decided for her and she's going to make the most of it.

The wand you unintentionally picked had only been used about two or three times. It's vibrations were so strong, something you felt like you had to get use to. Only on it's lowest setting were you able to handle it. Something powered only by batteries yet it was so powerful you were seeing stars the first time you used it.

"Get up."

Billie gave you the command but then she was moving your body herself. She laid on the bed and signaled for you to get on top of her. You go to straddle her before she stops you.

"Uh-uh. Turn the other way."

She made you turn away from and in the direction of a mirror. For the first time since going out tonight, you got a glimpse of yourself. Your hair looked a mess and your makeup had smudged a lot. Spit was drying in the corner of your mouth. You should've been ashamed about how you look and how Billie was slutting you out, but it made your pussy drip on Billie's skin. One, two, three she felt the drops of your arousal on her bare skin. She groaned, showing a moment of weakness for a second. Right then she knew she had to get you on her strap. She lowered you down with one hand. Somehow her strap felt so much bigger when you were sinking down on it this way. The way the girth stretched out just felt different when you were any other position. Billie doesn't fuck you in reverse cowgirl often so you were willing to underestimate her ability to fuck you as hard as you need like this, but quickly you were proven wrong.

Your skin slapped together harder and your tits bounce with every thrust up into your swollen twat. You thought it was a lot to handle until you felt the vibrations from the wand against your pussy. The slew of moans that fell from your lips were louder than before.

"Good girl! Keep moaning for me baby, show me just how much you love being fucked like this. Only I can fuck you like this."

Words like this were meant to only affect you, to drive home the point that you were a slut for Billie and Billie only, but somehow she fueled her own desire. She was fucking up into you with reckless abandon. You were so close to losing your mind from being fucked like that from below while the vibrator was placed firmly against your swollen clit. You had no choice but to endure it as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 

"Whose pussy's this? Who does this pussy belong to, girl," the way she addressed you and the stinging grip on your hip made you spiral. Billie has flirted with degrading you more and more in bed, but tonight she spoke as if this came natural to her. She questioned as if something would happen if you didn't answer her. The worst thing she, or anyone else, could do to you at this moment is deny you of another sweet release. It's a miracle you're not squirting all over her strap that bullying its way into you. The head of her strap hits your cervix so deliciously. She questions you as if you're capable of speaking right now when the vibrator is sending you into orbit. You've officially been rendered stupid and unable to form words.

It takes a solid minute and everything inside of you to be able to muster up the energy to be able to answer you.

"Yours! Oh god it's yours!" You force out with a desperate cry. Your body is beginning to hunch over in weakness as she continues to pound you. You've never felt so pathetic in your life, unable to stand your ground, but never did failure feel so good. The stretch and the buzz was addicting and you were ready to let go of everything that's been pent up inside of your body.

The way you answer satisfies Billie, finally. The sobs of your pure devotion made relief wash over her. She's happy.

She doesn't stop her pounding until you're cumming and crying out loudly for her. Your toes curl as you come the hardest you have in a long, long time. Billie's grip on you was still harsh, painful even, causing the pain to mix with your everlasting pleasure. This is what might be the longest orgasm of your life and it comes after another stalemate in your relationship.

It was almost impossible to be able to come back to reality. You didn't even notice the vibrator had been turned off and discarded onto the bed until Billie stopped pumping into you completely. Satisfaction stirred deep in your hips as you sat there with her strap situated inside of you. Billie was holding you up with both hands now as if you would fall apart into a million pieces if she let go. And let go she never did.

Your heavy limbs find relief when you're laid against the bed. It feels like you're floating on a cloud compared to how it felt before. You were in a state of disbelief, asking yourself, 'did that shit really happen?' 

You weren't going to regain your composure after that, and you weren't going to even try. Billie is already up and moving around, disappearing for a few minutes before she comes back with a wet towel waiting to clean you up. She pushes your legs apart and gently rubs the warm towel against your sensitive skin.

"I think you left a present over there."

She nods her head in the direction of the wet spot on the bed. Did you squirt? You don't even have a fucking clue if you did or not but you hide your face in your hands anyway.

"Oh god," you groan.

"We can always sleep in the other room."

"I don't think I can move, Bil."

You had a million and one questions, but you were utterly worn out and Billie's face was flushed pink from all the work she put in. You two have more to answer for in the morning, and a need to explain why you both acted up so much. Seeing you so vulnerable made the words 'I'm sorry, I was wrong' want to bubble up in Billie's throat. Instead she kisses the two sweet thighs she loves so much. The nonverbal apology will always come before remorseful words out of Billie's lips. Holding you until you fall asleep will stand in just for the night.

[onlycosmere]

LURKER_GALORE: Can't you just picture Sanderson giving himself a good chuckle placing that dialogue in here?

Arcanniel: Oh definitely, especially considering that he said that the scene where Kaladin falls down the Tower trying to save Lirin was one of the first ones he imagined for Stormlight Archive. dalinar__:  That's crazy. I honestly don't understand how he's able to plant easter eggs and hints that won't come to fruition for years to come. It's like he already has the entire series in his head, he's just gotta write it down. That's absolutely wild.

Brandon Sanderson: Ones like this are a little easier than you might expect.

Foreshadowing happens in three general ways for me. There are the obvious planned scenes, like the death rattles or the clues to what was happening with Elhokar in book one. Those are put in at the actual outlining process, when I'm planning my work to make sure that the flow is correct and the pieces fit together.

The second type of foreshadowing is during revisions, as I turn up or down the dial on certain elements depending on what alpha/beta figure out and when--whether they find it satisfying or not, whether they are confused. This can generally only be done for what is coming to fruition for the given book, so for multi-book foreshadowing, I have to rely on the first and final type.

That final type, like this post's line, is me writing along and realizing off-the-cuff there's a place to insert a nugget that will improve re-reads. This is probably the largest batch of foreshadowing pieces, and it's not hard to insert them if you know where you are going in the series. HOWEVER, the challenge to them is REMEMBERING they're there. Because I put them in off-the-cuff, I don't often track these well. That can be a problem because I could very well forget and put the same kind of foreshadowing in several places, to the point that people will be like, "Okay, we get it. Something is going to happen with the roof and Kaladin and his dad."

I think these are what lead to some problems for long series, as you do this often enough with these little inserts, and readers pick up and start to assume "Well, this has been mentioned so much, it's too obvious, so it can't happen." I've tried to watch that closely with the Stormlight Archive as I watched how it influenced the progress of the Wheel of Time.

Anyway, glad you spotted this one, /u/LURKER_GALORE . It does give me a smile when these pop up on the subreddit.

[sageispunk]

are you ever gonna post the method man fics 😩

what's it gonna be? (18+)

pairing: Silas P. Silas x black!reader

↳ When two friends finally get a night alone...

wordcount: 2.5k+

warnings: this is all smut fr, fwb to lovers, daddy kink!!!, P in V sex, reader is referred to as "girl" "ma" "mama" "boo", squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, dom! reader for a sec, light choking, hint at/mention of weed use, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, nipple play...lmk if i missed any!!

A/N: ask and you shall receive!! (sorry for the wait though, i've had this sitting unfinished for a min cause i didn't know if anyone actually wanted it LMAO) i hope u like it anon and anyone else, lmk how u feel in the comments!! pls like + reblog as well MWAH 🫶🏾

“Damn girl…” 

Silas groaned below you, with his big hands gripping your hips as you moved up and down his length. The two of you locked desperate eyes, communicating nothing but everything at the same time.

You needed this as much as he did, especially once that familiar green haze behind your eyes set in. You were on your feet, using the strength in your legs and knees to increase your pace on him. With each bounce you could feel him deep inside your belly, touching parts of you that you didn’t even know existed. 

You also couldn't figure out how his tall self managed to squeeze into your twin XL dorm bed, but you weren’t in any position to question it either. The room was dark, only illuminated by the dim screen of your television on the dresser, in addition to the red LED lights on the wall above you. Whichever tv show began when your movie went off went unnoticed, their conversations drowned out by the breathy pants escaping your lips. 

The lewd sounds filling up the room had you both in heaven. Beautiful brown bodies under that rouge coloring– moaning, grunting, smacking, and squishing. Like one of those early 2000s classic Ebony films–just nasty. You could only hope no one could hear from outside your door. 

You moved your hips up and down, taking him all the way down to the base each time, biting your lip with a debauched look on your face. You watched as Silas moaned, loud and needy and uncaring, his eyes rolling back into his head. Your confidence shot up through the roof, leading you to take a little more control. You held his jaw with your dominant hand, bringing your lips up to his earlobe and letting your mouth run off whatever popped into your head, not leaving a second to second guess yourself. 

“Does it feel good when I do it like that?”

With your soft, teasing voice in his ears, you squeezed your inner walls, slowing yourself a bit and ignoring that growing burn in your thighs. “You betta stop it, girl..” His voice came out grunted, rough. His fingers dug into your hips as he struggled to hold onto his nut, a deep moan vibrating through his chest. 

“What about when I do it like that? Hmm?”

You felt him nodding against your skin before his hips stuttered, kissing your spot perfectly for only  a split second. Your body jerked up, momentarily frozen around him as your vision went white. “Silas, FUCK, I’m–!!!”

“Yeahhh, let it out baby..” He murmured, a goofy, cocky grin spreading across his face. Even then, you could still tell that he was struggling to hold on, with your pussy pulsing,  nearly suffocating him like a goddamn boa constrictor. 

Silas kept his eyes on you, his focus wandering up and down, and back and forth, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to fixate on only one part of you. He loved your thighs–every time you’d wear this particular pair of biker shorts that defined each of your curves, he would have to mentally go elsewhere just to keep from bursting out his jeans.

Your breasts also held a special place in his heart, especially in those times where he’d seek you out for comfort, resting against the soft, cushiony headrest that your chest provided. Similarly, the softness of your tummy was something he could never turn down, he’d be touching on it every time you showed a little extra skin in a crop top or a backless dress.

As you slowed down to a stop on top of him, he let his hands wander. His left hand traveled up your side, slowly, taking in your beautiful map of scars and stretch marks on the way. Once his thick fingers reached your breasts, they traced around your mocha areolas before latching onto your hardened nipples. Silas rubbed and pinched lightly, alternating between teasing each as he watched the euphoric haze grow across your face. 

“Silas…” You still were sensitive from your sudden orgasm, slightly trembling from the aftershocks as he touched you. Nevertheless, that warmth and excitement began to flood your core once again, that hunger taking over your every thought. His hard dick throbbing eight inches deep inside your core didn't help either. But you needed more, you craved to see him, feel him come undone inside of you. 

You gasped as his right hand made its way to your throat, keeping your gaze steadily on his. The grip of his fingers on your skin had you feeling weak, and under his spell. And his voice, all deep and rough and dripping with desire.

“I gotchu mama, just tell me what you need..” Your eyes scanned over his face, taking in the glaze of sweat on his forehead, above his furrowed eyebrows, as well as the slight pout in his plump bottom lip. You wanted to bite it so bad. “Tell daddy what you need, baby, I gotta hear you.”

Silas repeating the nickname you accidentally gave him the first time you’d hooked up made your tummy flutter. You couldn’t believe it yourself when the word flew out your mouth, while you blurredly watched him take you from behind, standing upright in front of the mirror in some frat party bathroom. From then he never let you forget it. He always made sure to remind you of his special status, without fail making you cum harder than anyone else ever had, every single time. 

“Cum in me, Si...please.” 

The plea fell from your lips as you lazily swirled your hips in his lap, enjoying the way his curved length rubbed deliciously against all your inner spots. Like you were made to fit one another. Your hands held onto his right arm as he continued to choke you, only slightly tightening his grip around your throat. The growing lack of air made you tense around his dick, whining and moaning out as he spoke. “You know if I cum in this pussy, that means it's mine, right?” 

Hearing those words with that thick New York accent while he was so deep in your belly nearly made you cum again. Leaning in, you nodded your response with your gaze fixed directly on his brown eyes.

A look of understanding flashed across Silas’ face for a second, before he released your throat, hand settling on the nape of your neck to bring you in closer. Your plush lips met his own as he swallowed down your moans, exploring your mouth with his hungry tongue.

You opened up, letting him take control of the nastiest kissing you’ve ever participated in–tongues dancing, spit swapping, lip sucking until both of your mouths were glistening. Sinful. 

Silas’ free hand squeezed your hip, grounding you on top of him as he began to slowly grind up into you. Your mouths separated but your faces remained close as he held the back of your neck. Silas watched your face contort while he deepened his stroke inside you, letting you feel every single inch in your stomach.

The only thing you could focus on was his mouth, and how much you wanted that bottom lip back in your mouth. Fuzziness took over your brain, your eyes tearing up from the agonizingly slow but deep pace he was set on. 

The moment was intimate, much more than it had been previously, closer and slower than all those other times Silas had you broken you down. For the past few weeks, you resorted to quickies on the bathroom counter if you were at a party, in either of your cars parked somewhere dark, you’d even let him finger you under the table in the library while you were supposed to be “studying”. And now, with your roommate gone for the weekend, you were finally able to have a nice, passionate moment in a bed. 

In a way, the rushed, adrenaline-filled aspect of all your previous entanglements in those less intimate settings kept you from taking a deeper look at your relationship with Silas. You were friends, albeit much, much closer than “normal” friends should be. You met in a shared biology lecture, after Silas showed up late–and high as hell–and the only seat left open was to your right. You eventually agreed to become study partners, and you didn’t mind when some of those late night study sessions in Silas’ dorm turned into heated smoke sessions, which further turned into nasty intoxicated confessions from you both. 

Silas propped his feet up, lifting his hips before flipping you both over. He placed his hands on the backs of your knees, pushing back and kneeling down to lick a slow, wide stripe up your glossy cunt. You cried out from the new stimulation, squirming in his grasp.

“You taste so mothafuckin’ good, girl..” He moaned against your pussy in appreciation, slurping up your juices and rhythmically sucking on your clit with those pretty ass lips of his. You were entranced, eyes stuck on the scene in front of you, wondering what good you had done in this world to deserve all the bliss flowing through your system.

You watched as he pulled back from your pussy, chin glistening in your essence. He spread your sticky lips apart with two big fingers, hungrily watching you clench and pulse around nothing. The ravenous look in his eyes as he stared at your pussy turned you on like no other. They met yours again, and he licked and bit on his lip, letting you know that he was craving more, just as you were.

Your eyes and mouth fell wide open when Silas let a string of warm spit fall directly onto your clit, both the sensation and the view filling you with an immense amount of pleasure. You could feel the electricity flowing from your pussy to your toes, and back up through your spine, a complete shock to your system.

He let your legs fall to the side, big, warm hands on your face as he leaned in, kissing you once more. The sounds of you both groaning into each other's mouths as you tasted yourself on his lips echoed throughout the room. Your hips grinded up against his, needing to feel his length on and in you again. He pulled away first, one of his hands coming down to pin your knee out to the side, setting you still in place. “You want me to cum in this pussy?” 

You nodded, almost too eagerly. There was nothing else on your mind but the vision of him leaking out of you, vanilla cream dripping down your lips, the perfect match for your coffee complexion.

“Use ya words, boo.” 

You reached up, manicured hands pulling his face to just a couple inches from your own. He watched, expectantly, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips and back up again. You could feel him now, twitching and leaking against your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him most. “Cum in your pussy, Daddy.” 

With a curse under his breath, he sheathed himself inside of you in a quick movement, pausing once he filled you to the base. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared into your eyes, mouth hung open like he’d never felt the warm, tight hug of your cunt around him before. His breath faltered, warm breath against your lips and vulnerability written across his face.

Your own breath was caught in your chest when he slid back, and then forced out when he pushed inside, gliding through your slick walls with ease. A wail escaped your lips as he punished your pussy, or at least that’s what it felt like he was doing. Reminding you of who he was. And reminding you of who you were. 

Your eyes clamped shut, toes curling and spine arching up off the bed more and more each time he touched your precious g-spot. Another orgasm began to build within your core, your body tightening up underneath him as you fiercely dug your teeth into your bottom lip.

Curses flew from your lips, broken and jumbled together, barely making any sense. You released his face, blindly allowing your hands to find his shoulders for support. Silas leaned down, moaning and groaning in your ear, filling you up with his dick before taking it all away, over and over and over again. 

“Daddyyy…fuck!!!” 

“Tell me it’s mine, baby, c’mon ma, I’m so fuckin’ close…” 

Your bodies were sticky with sweat and all your juices, creating the nastiest smacking sound each time he plunged inside. “It’s yours, I swear to god, it’s all yours baby, ohmyfuckinggoddd…”  You rambled off, barely even able to hear your own words. Your brain was much more focused on the ecstacy spreading through your entire body, making you tingle from your head to your toes. “I’m gonna cum, daddy, please don’t stop!!” 

“Give it to me, baby, c’mon, gimme that shit!” He kept the pace strong, not letting up until you fell apart on his dick one final time, this time with your juices spraying and splashing between your bodies. Your tightness mixed with the sudden wetness of your squirt sent him over the edge, causing him to yell out as he finally released deep inside you. 

“Fuuuck!!” His hips twitched and stuttered as he emptied himself out, not daring to pull out while you were still grasping onto him from underneath.

You whimpered, your body trembling, shaking like a leaf as your nails dug into his shoulders, deep enough to leave a few red crescent-shaped marks. The feeling of his nut filling you gave you the warmest feeling in your tummy, satisfaction spreading through your mind, body, and soul.

The two of you rested for a moment, the sounds of your heavy breathing became your only focus. The audience laughter from the television was more noticeable now, but neither of you could care less. Silas let more of his weight fall on you, cradling you from above while you calmed down your breathing. You turned your face, tucking yourself into his neck and leaving a few soft kisses on the damp skin in appreciation. 

Silas softly chuckled when you teased him with your tongue against his collarbone, knowing you both were too tuckered out for another round just yet. He pulled out of you, slowly, hissing at the overstimulation on his sensitive length. Sitting back on his knees in between your legs, he watched in admiration as seed spilled from your swollen lips, giving him a perfect view of the most beautiful painting he’s ever laid his eyes on–better than anything he’s seen in the MET. 

Observing his mark on you–in you–was gratifying, a surge of endearment and devotion growing within his own core. “C’mere..” 

You obeyed, lazily allowing him to reposition you on top of his chest, your faces just centimeters apart. 

“Tell me somethin’ real quick...you meant it?” 

That vulnerable look was back, although he did try to hide it by avoiding eye contact, instead focusing on your slightly puffy lips, swollen from all the kissing and biting and sucking. You knew what he was talking about, and you knew it was more than just dirty sex talk–something had been growing between the two of you and it was undeniable at this point. 

“Every word.”

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

[kiame-sama]

Maybe the King of the Underworld felt bad for Humans because they were forced into a role they didn’t want (Like how he had to take rule over the Underworld when no one else was willing to)

So maybe when Humans died, he was willing to give every human a ticket to a peaceful afterlife after all the horrors and unfairness they had to face (He was even willing to block those terrible memories to give them peace)

He found Humans to be an interesting species because they could be the funniest individuals he ever met (As he was known for having a sense of humor)

He couldn’t help but have respect for Humans because of how tirelessly they strived to keep their place in a world where Monsters constantly pushed them down in the dirt

He was willing to make deals with humans to give them an advantage, and was kind enough to only ask for small things in return

(Just Realized I forgot the King of The Underworld in my other post about the Great Seven and the Righteous Judge, thanks for the quick reminder!

Post is here:

)

- The King of the Underworld was a Shinigami and was known as the King of Shinigami. Souls passed through all the time in their way to their eternal rest and there were few the King hated to see but loved to speak to more than the souls of Humans. From their quirky personalities to their near unending desire to survive in a world that seemed to be stacked against them.

- The many souls of Humans that cowered before him- having spent their last moments in abject horror being hunted for sport and meat- always made his chest constrict. To see such resilient and almost noble creatures so beaten down and terrified truly put the fragility of Humanity into perspective for him.

- Humans had been far and few in number long before the last few died out. It was an insurmountable and frankly unfair task to expect such creatures to compete against those with claws, wings, fins, horns, and most of all magic. The fact that Humans held out for so long in a world so vicious was nothing short of inspiring to the King of the Underworld and he loved Humans all the more for it. Their ability to last as long as they did proved Humans had something special the other species simply didn't, a kind of moxie and problem-solving that allowed them to etch out a place in the canvas of life.

- The King adored the inventiveness and resilience of the little species, often granting great boons and even shelter from the other species that sought to hunt or mistreat them. The Island of Woe was a shelter for the souls of Humans, both living and dead, since blot did not impact them half as much as other species.

[ravixen]

can you do one wherein they're on a variety show and someone asks about your relationship?? (they are publicly dating) With Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Minghao and Vernon?

svt + variety show asks about idol!s/o

➔ reaction || requested || idol!y/n

➔ warnings: none || 0.6k words ➔ notes: fluff ; this prompt feels like it'd go well with my previous posts "svt + sending a video message on a show" from 2022 and 2023! I originally wrote this for a non-idol!y/n before I realized that by "publicly dating," you probably meant an idol s/o so I redid it. I had a little trouble thinking of situations since the prompt was broad, but it was still fun to write. might do another part with the more open members. please reblog if you liked it!!

SEUNGCHEOL: if he was promoting with his members, he wouldn't even entertain the question; working as part of a team matters a lot to him, and as the group leader, he has to set an example. but today he's doing a solo interview and lets himself be more open. when the hosts ask about you, he absolutely tries his best to hide his initial reaction, but he can't help the smile that automatically appears at the mention of your name. he attempts to play it off with an arrogant hair ruffle that fools no one. literally so embarrassing. "am I happy? ...yeah, I'd say so." he laughs. "why would I say no? all of my important people are healthy and living their best life." he doesn't share too many details about you, just to protect your privacy, but he'd be proud to promote any of your recent achievements, regardless of your occupation.

WONWOO: he's a private person, so while he is technically dating in the public eye, there's not much known about your relationship; that's exactly why the show hosts are taking advantage of this opportunity to grill him about you. but he evades their questions with the practiced grace of someone who's had media training, dancing right in front of the answers they're looking for. he looks so at ease: crossed arms, leaned back, a hint of a smile on his lips. but perhaps it's due to this false sense of security that, when they bring out the big guns, it knocks him off-balance. they have pictures. nothing incriminating. it's just embarrassing to see his affection collaged like this: peeks of you as his lockscreen, him dancing in the crowd at your street performance, him staring affectionately at your back as you order from a food truck...yeah, they caught him with it all.

MINGHAO: he's an extremely private person—I'd argue even more so than wonwoo—so he warned the program beforehand that he wouldn't answer any questions about you, other than to confirm that yes, you are still happily together. they agree...and of course scheme ways to get around that. so instead of asking about you directly, they decide to reference you a few times throughout the shooting to catch his reaction. maybe your song as a random dance or screenshots of your show as memes. they have audacity, he'll give them that. if he was a lesser man or earlier into his career, he'd cave and play into their wants, but neither of those apply to him so he smiles every time, ignoring the references, until they get bored and move on. then, at the end of the shoot, they ask if he has any closing words. "thanks for promoting their work so seriously," he says with a sarcastic bow.

VERNON: he's yet another private person (do you have a type), though not through conscious choice like minghao. he's publicly dating and has nothing to hide, but he's not the type to flaunt personal matters so he just doesn't. obviously his friends and family know the important details, but beyond that, he doesn't see the point in sharing information with people that don't really know him. so when the hosts ask him about his relationship, it catches him off-guard. he fully blinks and stares at the host until someone breaks the silence with an awkward laugh. "unless you two broke up?" they offer tentatively. "no, we're still together. it's been, uh, it's been good. great." he nods. "we actually went to see a movie yesterday." and the hosts sit there waiting for him to continue, and he's staring back at them like. that's all I wanted to say...are we moving on?

[teruuu]

Exploring The Complexities of The Lamb and Narinder’s Relationship

Long post warningsgsgsgsgsh!!!!!! 🥺🥺

For those of you who want a quick rundown of what the AU’s about, check out the link at the bottom of the post.

Warning: Mentions of Cannibalism, Unhealthy & Obsessive Relationships, and Spoilers for The Art of Acquiring Devotion

Now, firstly, I’ll have to give my thanks to @nimbudcat for providing me with ideas as to how the relationship would function and opening the gateway for me to fully explore all the nooks and crannies of their romance.

I’m no expert on the deep complexities of toxic relationships, so I don’t have the courage to fully label the Lamb and Narinder’s love as ‘toxic’, but I know damn well that it’s not a normal love at all. Let’s think—what is a normal, healthy relationship composed of? Trust, of course. Mutual love and trust, absolute honesty... Those are the most basic building blocks of a healthy relationship. In this AU, for Narinder and Lamb, those concepts are extremely warped. They have all of those components in their relationship, but it’s so twisted that it’s difficult for me to define their romance as either healthy or unhealthy.

Narinder and Lamb trust each other, and it runs so deep that the best descriptor for that trust is pure devotion. They trust each other with their lives. This may not make sense since they are immortals, but think about it—the cannibalism that they inflict upon one another results in death for the two, each and every time, and they trust only one another for their resurrections. They allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves only to one another, and this is so incredibly meaningful because of all the aspects of their pasts. They trust themselves of course to always only tell the truth to each other, and the love that they share is simply reverent.

Now, let me elaborate on why all the things I expanded on above mean so much. Let’s start with the Lamb. I as I said in my previous post, the Lamb’s past for this AU is derived from my fanfic. We don’t know much at all about pre-sacrifice Lamb in-game, so I took the liberties to expand on their world myself. I’ll allow some passages from my fanfic to speak for itself:

It was through these traumatic experiences that the Lamb became hungry at the thought of companionship. No, the Lamb doesn’t just want some of Narinder’s Big Fluffy Gyatt™. As I’ve depicted in my other artworks, in this AU the Lamb considers Narinder as their savior, their one and only salvation, and perhaps the only person that has ever cared about them. And this is where things start to get murky—it’s because of this that the Lamb is so incredibly attached to Narinder and is absolutely insane about him.

The Lamb isn’t just attached, actually. They’re obsessed with Narinder. So obsessed that they develop a panic if they don’t hear his voice after more than half an hour. So obsessed that they begin to see any and all followers that interact with him as an enemy. This is also why I hesitate to consider this as toxic, because, see, Narinder likes it.

Moving on to Narinder’s part of the AU, it’s important to understand that, although he pretty much brought it to himself because of his high and mighty behavior, he was also quite isolated in his earlier years.

For Narinder’s side, he firmly believed himself to always be in the right. Think of it as a mad scientist whose ideas are way ahead of his generation. He had innovative thoughts and concepts in mind in the duration of his reign. He’d been supplemented by the knowledge that Shamura had provided him with, and that caused him to possess the mind of a radical inventor. Unfortunately, his ideas were less than desirable for the rest of his siblings and his own followers, so little by little the worship he received dwindled. Narinder was frustrated by this—why couldn’t anyone see the genius that he had to offer? Initially he had good intentions in mind, but he grew a tyrannical mind and eventually decided that the only way for the world to see his wonders is to force it beneath his feet.

Eons of imprisonment provided no aid for his mind. What once was a head full of wonders that could potentially change the world for the better became a twisted and cruel version of itself. Violence and revenge plagued his mind, and it became his one and only obsession. So, when the Lamb came to him, he relished in the worship they had to offer.

Their devotion for one another is purely mutual, but at the same time fully in their own self-interests. The Lamb is devoted to Narinder because Narinder is all that they care about in their mind, and they desperately require Narinder for them to continue living on. As for Narinder, he had never acquired such a passionate follower before, and he grew an addiction for the love that they have to offer. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not.

They are incredibly violent for one another because that’s all they know. They don’t understand what it’s like to have a normal relationship. They cling to one another, kill for one another, and eat one another because they need each other so badly. The cannibalism is an expression of their eager desire to simply blend into one another because that’s just how much they want the other.

They know it’s wrong. They hate that it’s wrong. They hate each other for making each other feel so wrong and so crazy. But they so, so want it to be right.

(Okay sorry for the bad essay lmao adios)

[toskarin]

Is Tomino an antisemite?

I assume you're referring to the section of PROJECT PROTOTYPE: Zeta Gundam Proposal that talks about Melanie Hue Carbine?

worth mentioning, this bit was also reprinted in the liner notes for the Zeta Memorial Box laserdisc release

to cut a long answer short and address the elephant in the room: the Carbine stuff, in those notes, is antisemitic. I also don't think that it necessarily reflects what Tomino currently believes, if he was even the one who wrote it, which is also unclear

the answer ends up being "there's not a clear answer one way or the other"

I'll elaborate a bit more on this below the courtesy break

for disclosure's sake, I could be misremembering some details here, but this is less of a "defence" and more of trying to sort out what's not included in that screencap which gets reposted every so often.

-

it's understandable that this comes up time and time again, given what a mess that writing is

the question of whether Tomino was antisemitic has been talked to death, which is why a lot of Gundam fans have just stopped entertaining it, but I still think it's worth clearing up periodically for people who haven't heard it talked about before, so it's not ground down into pop trivia

when you hear people talking about the Carbine lore in Zeta, it's usually presented as coming from a setting bible and being a direct quote from Tomino

that understanding comes from a long-running game of telephone that was probably significantly worsened by language barriers and 40 years of information rot

the infamous Carbine section not only has dubious authorship and canonicity, but was also written in the 80s in Japan (which was undergoing something of a Jewish conspiracy exploitation boom at the time) and first published in a fan-targeted magazine (not the setting bible, as it's usually presented) in a period of Gundam's history when there was a lot of outsourced filler lore being released to stopgap the inevitable decline of post-Zeta Gundam hype before the release of ZZ

that's not to say Tomino doesn't have a history of misstepping and saying incredibly strange (and sometimes reactionary) things, or even that this wasn't a concept in the original proposal for Zeta before it was heavily reworked. it wouldn't be that out of place, but it would still stick out

but, to be frank, Tomino is an 82 year old Japanese man who has been in the public eye for 60 out of those 82 years

even if we take it for granted that he was the one behind that off-screen lore, we then have to believe that he held those beliefs unchangingly for 40 years without (to my knowledge) repeating them, which is a bit of a stretch

there might be something especially damning that I haven't seen, but I feel like it would have emerged alongside the Carbine passage if that were the case

[drama-glob]

Something I'm really anxious and eager to see is whether Satan will truly be an antagonist to Fizz and Ozzie's relationship like Mammon or if he'll be more on the neutral side as wrath can be seen as justifiable depending on the circumstances/if it channeled into something productive; I know he's calling someone a disgrace in that screenshot, but he could be saying it to Ozzie, Stolas or possibly even Mammon because I'm sure if he heard about Mammon leaving rather than fighting Ozzie, he'd be judging him for that. ;)

I have a feeling Satan will still likely lean towards the antagonistic side (unless his mind gets changed :/), but the fact of it being Ozzie vs Satan is something I find interesting because those two share several characteristics in common such as muscles (although it appears Satan will at least have more of that given Bee's remarks ;) ), height and literal fire power; we see too that when it comes to Ozzie's love for Fizz, he's fully capable of letting his anger out in order to protect Fizz or just express how he feels when Fizz is in danger. Ozzie is normally chill however as his sin pertains to lust/pleasure in general and to which he has already said shouldn't be about force, thus it would fall more into the wrath category (as well as pride and greed too) whenever it stops being about consensual sex/mutual enjoyment and turns into domination and control, which could be where Satan possibly sees Ozzie as weak despite the latter having the moral high-ground in this; Satan could also see Ozzie as weak because he sees love as making someone soft and is a weakness that can be exploited, but we admittedly don't know enough about Satan yet to know what his opinions about love are. :/ In the end though, having this potential confrontation between the two sins come down to them upholding the values of the sin they represent with Ozzie fighting for his right to love Fizz too (and thus showing love doesn't make you weaker) should be good. ^_^ (I already mentioned it in another post about how them fighting would make it be like love vs war, but it very well may still be case ;) ).

One a related note, it's also interesting is we've already seen lust and wrath be connected (at least when it involves infidelity being discovered) all the way back in episode one. O_O

[milfhunter6698]

Under pressure pt5

synopsis: Upon joining the NYC firm as a new associate, you quickly find yourself facing the pressure of working under the firm’s star senior partner, Victoria neuman. With a reputation for excellence and an eye for potential, she was searching for a junior partner who can meet her exacting standards. You, with your impressive credentials and unwavering ambition, seemed like a perfect fit…until the pressure of meeting those high expectations started taking their toll. 

Warnings: 18+ eventual smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, fluff, angst, teasing, hurt & comfort, power imbalance, slight AU, some similarities to cannon, mentions of the boys characters (Hughie), slight age gap, rival associates, young!reader, older!Victoria, slow-burn, infidelity.

Notes: It’s sunday ayyy new chapter. I’m posting this right now because I won’t have any time to do so later today sooo i just wanna say, I’ve mentioned before that Vicky isn’t a supe in this, as much as you’d want to but unfortunately she isn’t so sorry boo! This is a sloww burn so ya’ll ain’t getting freaky that fast lol, but i promise it’s gonna be worth it. And oh my gosh? tysm for the follows and comments they make my day i love you all.

“I see your face every time I’m with somebody else. Can’t you see that I want you?” ♩Where you belong—The weeknd.

previous chapter

wc: 3.1k

You finally made it your apartment, exhaustion wore you down, your thoughts racing with that shared moment between you and Victoria, as you found your girlfriend waiting for you. Letting out a sigh, you sat your keys and bag on the kitchen counter. She sauntered over, a playful smirk on her lips.

“Hey, you're back. Missed you," she spoke, her voice soft as ever. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you returned her smirk with a wary one, mumbling, "work."

Her lips met yours for a soft kiss. That same horrible feeling washed over you as you realized the very same mouth that had been pressed against Victoria's just hours ago was now touching your girlfriend's. You broke the kiss abruptly, turning away in an attempt to hide the turmoil written across your face.

However, your girlfriend, oblivious to your inner conflict, pulled you close once more. This time, her kiss was deeper, more lingering, filled with an affection that only intensified your remorse. As your eyes met hers, it pained you because all you saw was nothing but love and trust, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

She leaned in for another kiss, gently biting your lower lip. Usually, this would excite you. But however this time, you felt a sudden wave of worry. Her kiss, which used to feel comforting and familiar, now reminded you of Victoria's from earlier. An unexpected shiver of anxiety rippled through your body making you feel uneasy and guilty.

Despite it all, you found yourself giving in to the moment. With trembling hands, you helped her remove your shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons as you stumbled backwards into the dimly lit bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. She guided you towards the bed with a determined grace, her eyes filled with hunger that both thrilled and terrified you. As your back hit the cool sheets, she crawled over you, her body a familiar weight that now felt strangely foreign.

Your breath hitched as her teeth left momentary bruises on your skin, and you hissed in warning, "Uh, careful."

She mumbled a quick apology, her lips brushing past your collarbone, neck placing kisses down your abdomen. Your heart raced, and you closed your eyes, her tongue traced a wet path, making contact with your aching clit. Your hands, shot down gripping into her hair.

You couldn't help but let your thoughts drift. Your mind wandered back to Victoria. The kiss, that night at the pool, and that look on her eyes, how badly she craved you. Desperately you tried to shake off the thoughts and focus on her touch instead. But Victoria’s name, continued to play on repeat in your mind, hard to ignore as it teetered on the edge of your tongue, threatening to spill out.

You bit your lip, suppressing a moan. Suddenly, you felt guilt and an unbearable longing mixed with a sense of righteousness. "Fuck Vic—, fuck," you mumbled, your voice a raw, hoarse whisper.

Your body froze. Holy shit... You weren't sure whether she'd heard you or not, though she persisted. "Oh god, stop! Just stop," you pleaded. She then did so, pulling away.

You propped yourself on your elbows, “Hey, I'm sorry. You're great, I just..." You sighed, licking your lips, sitting on the edge of the mattress, a heavy, uncomfortable silence lingered, and it only served to break your heart further.

Rising from the bed, you bent down to gather your underwear from the floor. Slipping it on, you met her eyes, noticing the hurt and disappointment lingering in them. You mumbled an excuse, before you left the room disappearing into the dark hallway.

You stood in the bathroom, splashing water on your face and looking into the mirror. You felt absolutely lost, the memories of Victoria still there, and the growing connection with her a shocking twist of fate creating an unsettling, conflicting feeling.

Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to process the complex emotions overwhelming you, torn between desire and guilt. You didn't want to hurt your girlfriend, but Victoria’s hold on you was so strong that It made it really difficult, the grasp she had on your heart was unrelenting.

The next morning, you entered the firm, your mind still racing from the events of the previous night, thinking about your girlfriend and the possibilities only added to the unease gnawing at you.

As you walk down the hallway, your thoughts kept drifting back to the kiss with Victoria. You’re frustrated with yourself for even allowing it to happen, but something about it keeps pulling at you. Lost in thought, you don’t notice her until she bumps into you.

You share an awkward moment, both frozen for a second too long, before quickly shifting away. She mumbles a polite apology, but there’s a flicker of something unspoken in her eyes. You nod, avoiding her gaze, but inside, your heart pounded.

Later, in the breakroom you stepped into the kitchen, grateful for a brief escape. You prepared a cup of coffee, hoping it will clear your head. Just as you took a sip, you sensed someone’s eyes on you. Glancing up to find Victoria staring you down, an amused smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Why is she everywhere? It feels like no matter where you go, she’s there. Every time you try to focus on your work, she reappears.

“Looks like someone had a fun night.” She spoke teasingly.

Her gaze drifts to the faint bruises on your neck, and you suddenly realize what she means. Your face flushes with heat as you instinctively rub at the marks, trying to cover them up. Embarrassed, you meet her eyes, which only makes her chuckle softly. Your tone was defensive but tried to play it cool, “It’s not what you think.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, and takes a step closer. For a moment, you wonder what she’s going to say next, but before she can speak, Hughie walks in, his presence cutting through the tension like a knife.

He was oblivious to whatever was going on between you, he then turned to address Victoria, “There you are. I’ve been looking for you all morning. We’ve got that meeting with the partners in five minutes.”

You feel a wave of relief wash over you for the first time in days. Hughie’s interruption was a welcome one. You were not ready to confront whatever’s going on between you and Victoria.

She lingers for a moment longer, her eyes flicking back to Hughie, before she turns and follows him out of the room. You were left alone in the kitchen, the lingering scent of coffee mingling with your own sense of confusion.

Your thoughts continued to race. You can’t shake the feeling that things are spiraling out of control. You’re torn between the growing attraction to Victoria and the relationship you’ve so desperately trying to salvage with your girlfriend.

You can’t let this get any messier but deep down, you knew it already had been. The more you tried to avoid Victoria, the more she seems to be everywhere, as if fate is pushing you together despite your best efforts.

Earlier that day, you sat at a small table in Central Park, the sounds of the city blending with the rustle of the trees. The late-morning sun filters through the leaves, casting a soft glow on the table. Across from you sits the client, a middle-aged woman corporate executive embroiled in a complex legal battle over intellectual property theft.

“I don’t know how it got to this point. One moment, I had everything under control, and the next, it feels like my world is falling apart.”

You listened carefully, nodding as she speaks. There’s something about her situation that resonates with you—being blindsided, trying to hold everything together while the ground shifts beneath your feet.

“You did everything right. But sometimes, no matter how careful we are, things go wrong. And when that happens, it’s about how we respond that defines us.”

She let out a heavy sigh, looking out at the park as if seeking answers in the distance. “It’s hard to trust anyone anymore. Especially when the people you thought were on your side turn against you.”

You leaned forward slightly, your voice calm but firm, “I get that. But you have to remember, not everyone’s out to get you. Sometimes, the ones who stand by you are the ones you least expect. And I promise you, I’m going to see this through.”

Her eyes softened with a flicker of relief, as if your words gave her something to hold onto. As you spent the next half-hour going over some details of the case, outlining the next steps and giving the client a sense of direction. It was time to wrap up, she stood from her seat and offered a hand.

“Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”

“Of course, that’s what we’re here for.” You accepted her hand shaking it firmly, before gathering your things from the table and saying your goodbyes.

You returned home, the sound of the city fading behind as you step into your apartment. You tossed your keys on the counter, your body heavy with exhaustion. The bed felt too large, too cold. You lay down, staring at the ceiling, the silence in the room echoing louder than the chaos of the day.

Your mind drifts to everything—the two women in your life. You wondered if you’re even in control—or if everything is slipping through your fingers. The emotional weight pressing down heavy on you, like a suffocating blanket you cannot seem to pull off.

In the stillness of your room, your phone buzzed on the nightstand jolting you, shattering the silence. Instead of checking it, you let out a frustrated huff, closing your eyes tightly. Desperate to escape any further thoughts, you pulled a pillow over your head, and buried yourself in the comfort of your bed.

It had been another long, draining day, and all you wanted was to clear your mind. As you walked out of the office building, the city’s soft hum around you as the evening light dimmed.

Walking down the stairs, a familiar figure caught your eye, standing near the entrance of the building. You blinked, almost unsure if it was really her. A strange wave of relief washed over you. She hadn’t been around for a while, and maybe you could finally talk things out, fix things.

“Hey,” You called, striding over to her. You could sense something off in her posture, but you tried to push the thought aside. “I was wondering when you’d show up. It’s been a rough week—”

She interrupted, her voice quiet but firm. “Save it.” Your heart sank, the relief you felt moments ago turned into a knot in your stomach. You knew that tone, you knew what was coming. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” you asked, trying to sound calm.

She sighed, glancing away at the cars passing by for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “No matter what we do… it just doesn’t work. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I just… I don’t think this is working anymore.”

You blinked, her words hitting you like a wave. You’d been so consumed by your feelings for Victoria, your confusion, that you hadn’t even seen this coming. “Wait, we can talk about this. We can fix it—”

She shook her head, looking down at the pavement. “I don’t think we can. You’re different now. I’m different. And…” She hesitated before adding, “Is it someone at work? Is it that woman…. Victoria, that you’ve been working with?”

You froze, your throat tightening. How could she possibly know? The question lingered between you and although you wanted to say something, anything, but no words came. You couldn’t lie, but you weren’t ready to admit the truth either.

She took a step back, her eyes soft with resignation. “I thought so.” She gave a faint smile, one that held both sadness and understanding. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. But i guess that’s not me.”

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, speechless, grappling with whether you continue denying your attraction to Victoria and the inevitable consequences of those feelings.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as a lump formed in your throat. Blinking rapidly, you tried to dispel the emotions threatening to spill over. Your hand came up to your face, rubbing your palm against your eyes to wipe away any signs of weakness.

Watching her walk away, it was over you knew there was no turning back time. Your relationship, once strong and full of promise, had faltered. To ask for another chance now would be nothing short of foolish.

You remained rooted to the spot, your chest aching, a persistent and uncomfortable sensation. A chaos of emotions consumed you, swirling like a tempest, leaving you unsure of what your next move would be.

You stood alone in the copy room, glaring at the stubborn printer that refused to cooperate, its flashing error signal mocking you. The silence in the room was punctuated only by the sounds of your deep, labored breaths.

You clicked the button again, hoping for a miracle. Nothing. A flash of irritation surged through you, building with every failure. You clenched your fists, muttering under your breath, “Come on..” then slammed your hand against the side of the machine. When it still didn’t work, your frustration reached its peak.

You struck the machine again—once, twice—trying to vent the anger bubbling inside. Your world felt like it was crumbling. The breakup with girlfriend, the constant pressure from work, and now this. You pounded the printer again, teeth clenched, but it only made things worse. “Fucking— stupid, Machine!”

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening cut through the tense moment, and you froze mid-swing.

Victoria.

She stood in the doorway, a stack of files in hand, her usual calm, controlled demeanor breaking for a moment as she took in the sight of you.

You dropped your hand and straightened up, embarrassed. Your eyes darted to the side, avoiding her gaze, but it was too late—she had already seen the cracks in your usually composed exterior.

“Are you… okay?” she asked softly, setting the files down on a nearby desk. There was a hesitation in her voice, a rare hint of concern that broke through her usual professionalism.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, trying to wave it off, but your voice lacked conviction.

She didn’t move. She simply stood there, studying you, the room filling with a heavy silence. You could feel her gaze on you, and for the first time in a while, you didn’t want to be under her scrutiny. You knew what she was seeing—the exhaustion, the frustration, the crumbling walls you’d so carefully built around yourself.

“You don’t seem fine,” she said gently, taking a few steps closer. “Something’s wrong.”

You sighed heavily, the weight of everything threatening to crush you. For a second, you considered brushing her off again, but the look in her eyes stopped you. There was a sincerity there that you weren’t used to from her. It wasn’t just curiosity or concern for how you were performing at work—it was something more.

“I just…” your voice cracked, and you looked away, feeling your throat tighten. “It’s been a rough week. I’m dealing with… a lot.”

She didn’t push any further, but she didn’t leave either. Her presence, usually sharp and commanding, was softer now. Patient.

You exhaled and ran a hand through your hair, finally giving in. “My girlfriend broke up with me.”

Her expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise and relief crossing her features for a brief instant before she quickly masked it. She took another step closer, standing directly in front of you now, her usual guarded demeanor softening.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and for once, the words didn’t feel like just a polite phrase. They felt genuine.

You glanced at her, your own feelings a mess, unsure what to make of her sympathy. But something about the way she stood there, unflinchingly close, gave you a strange sense of comfort.

She reached out, her hand brushing against your arm before pulling you into a tight hug. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to send a wave of warmth through you that caught you off guard.

Your body froze for a moment, then you quickly surrendered, burying your face into her neck. The tension in your shoulders began to melt away with each soft breath, your sigh a release of pent-up stress. Your arms awkwardly tangled with hers as you clung to her, her warmth a comforting feeling.

Once you pulled back your breath hitched, the space between you narrowing. She didn’t move away. If anything, she leaned in closer too, her hand sliding up to gently touch your cheek. The moment hung in the air, thick with tension. Your lips were mere inches apart, but just as she was about to close the gap, you blinked, breaking the spell.

She pulled back slightly, her heart racing, she hesitated, her own breath a little uneven, but then she finally stepped back, giving you space.

She gave a soft, knowing smile, she didn’t say anything more about the breakup, but there was something in her eyes that told you she understood more than she let on, an empathy she held back.

She closed the gap, her skilled fingers deftly fixing the printer. With a swift movement, she had it churning out papers. "There you go," she spoke, a small smile tugging at her mouth. Her gaze swept over you once more. Her eyes held a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite understand before she turned, striding confidently towards the door.

You stood there, flushed and still reeling from the almost-kiss. Letting out a deep, long sigh, you rubbed your face before slamming your hands on the table. Your gaze drifted to the floor as a turmoil of emotions swirled through you. Confused, conflicted, angry - you felt everything all at once and it was too much to wrap your head around.

[thewritingwolfie]

trusting - harvey sdv fic

pairing: Harvey x Farmer OC (September)

warnings: mentions of sex (!!MDNI!!), self-doubt & anxious thinking patterns (from Harvey), hurt comfort if there was more comfort than hurt

summary: after a night of role-switching, September can't convince Harvey to let her take care of him

word count: 1.2k

a/n: LMAO AM I FORMATTING THIS RIGHT. first time I'm ever posting a fic on like. almost anything (except i did a couple things on ao3 a bit ago but that's different). hopefully this is super cool and not cringe gang <33

~~~ Harvey wouldn’t hear anything of it.

He was standing in his apartment, nearly naked, flummoxed, and staring at a very exasperated September. She’d come to see him for the evening, but after-hours alone at the clinic usually meant things led from one thing to another. Well, most of the time, Harvey prided himself on the aftercare aspect of things after knocking her socks off. But tonight, he had not only taken on a more… submissive role, but now she was insisting she take on that caretaker role.

“No, no, September. Sit down. I can get us our usual snacks,” he said, holding up a hand to silence her protests. It was his job, in and out of this relationship, to take care of her.

September groaned, running her hands through her hair. “Harvey, love of my life, apple of my eye, I swear to Yoba.”

“What? This is what we do every time.” He went to take a step forward, having to pace himself from his wobbly legs. September hadn’t exactly spared him. “We get, ah, intimate, we wind down, and I take care of you. I don’t really understand what your problem is.”

“My problem, love, is that our dynamic was different tonight. You wobbled as you stepped, don’t think I didn’t see it,” September replied, cocking an eyebrow at his legs.

Shit. She was always an observant type. Harvey adjusted his glasses, face dusted with pink. “Well, yes, I suppose, but-”

“No buts.” She gently stepped up to him, pushing his shoulders so he fell back onto the couch in his living room. “I’ll make some snacks. Rest up.”

“September-!” he gasped, making a move to sit up. But his body, wracked with aftershocks and exhaustion, let out a protest stronger than his will. He grumbled, crossing his arms. Why was she being so insistent? 

He watched her in his tiny kitchen, pulling together some snacks on a plate. She looked so calm, so intent on doing this. Some pang of emotion shot through Harvey’s chest as he watched her move, only in her undergarments, bringing over glasses and wine and food. She was pushing herself too hard, wasn’t she? He had to step in, he had to be the chivalrous doctor everyone knew him to be-

His flurry of thoughts was interrupted by the feeling of the farmer’s body bumping his as she sat down. “Here, I got those little pickles you like so much. You should eat, you’ll feel better.”

Harvey stared at the plate. He… didn’t have an appetite. “Why?”

“Hm?” September cocked her head.

“Why are you… doing this? I mean- it’s my job. I’m a doctor, I take care of you, right?” he spoke slowly, his hands rubbing the edge of the couch nervously. “You work so hard, doing your farmwork all day, not to mention the mines, a-and running errands for the town… this is the least I can do, isn’t it?”

September watched him speak, watching his face twitch with despair as he spoke. His voice began to crack. She’d never seen him so… vulnerable. Harvey almost burned with shame. Why wasn’t she responding?

“Oh, Harv,” she whispered, reaching over to cup his cheek. “You do so much for me. I never expect you to just- to just throw yourself into caretaker mode after we mess around, dear. You deserve that same care you give to me, silly!” She laughed softly, kissing his cheek, speaking so casually as if it was information he’d know all along.

Harvey felt a soft choke of tears. How was this so easy for her to say? He couldn’t afford to let himself relax as a doctor. He never had. “September-”

She shook her head. “Hold on.” September wrapped around him, pulling him onto her chest as she laid back on the arm of the couch. “Okay, talk.”

Had he ever been held like this? Harvey opened his mouth to speak, but all he could manage was a soft whimper. The whimper gave way to the dam in his throat and behind his eyes, which gave way to a soft, strangled sob.

September startled, pulling him tight. “Oh- love, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, tangling a hand in his soft hair. “Hey, shh, shh, I’m here. Did something go wrong during our-?”

“No," he whispered softly, weakly pulling his glasses off of his face to wipe at his eyes. In front of her? He felt even more awful. “No, no, everything was- was nice, I just-" 

He let out a shaky sigh as she curled her fingers at the base of his neck, massaging it with gentle care. She hummed softly, feeling his body shake from trying to hold in his tears. “Not used to this?" she whispered, a sympathetic smile on her lips.

“I'm supposed to take care of you," he whined, hugging her waist. “Why can't I-?" 

“Because you're exhausted, Harvey. You have done so much for others today. How many checkups have you done?” she asked, not giving him a breath to answer. They both knew. "How many records have you filed?” Too many. 

Harvey buried his head in her skin, considering her. She was too soft and too comfortable to fight anymore, so he gave in. But still, mentally, he couldn't relax. “September-" 

“Harvey, can you listen to me for a second?" 

He couldn't say no, so he just nodded.

She sat up, gently propping them both against the couch in a half-up half-down position. He laid on her chest and her arms encircled him. "Okay. Look. You're a doctor. How important is after are for a patient after a medical experience such as a surgery?" 

“Vital," Harvey responded, barely thinking. It was like he was back in med school for a mere blink of an eye.

“Exactly. And if a patient has a panic attack, how important is aftercare?" 

“Still vital." 

“Uh huh. So tell me why this is different,” September said, kissing the crown of his head.

Here he fell silent. He felt September smile against his skin.

“Exactly. Harvey, you are a human as much as anyone else. No one could ever ask you to be on target 24/7. If you didn't sleep at night you'd crash and burn for sure.” She tilted his head up so his eyes met hers, smiling brighter to make sure he could see it through the fuzz of tears and the lack of glasses. “I love you. I feel no weird begrudging obligation. I will always be there to catch you when you fall. And I need you to trust that I will tell you when I can't. Can I trust you to trust me?”

His eyes flicked between the blobs that he was sure were her own. Could he trust her? With his life. So why was this so hard to swallow? Was it even safe? Was he safe?

Harvey took a slow breath. Of course he was.

"Okay,” he croaked, voice a little weak from the night. "I can.”

"Good,” September mumbled, kissing him briefly. "We can trust each other.”

Harvey hummed, sleep threatening to overtake him. He hugged September closer, burying into her skin, making her giggle against him. Maybe he couldn't be entirely sure. But even a small chance of success was worth going for, wasn't it?

Finally, fading into the soft, welcoming arms of sleep, Harvey let go for the first time.

[trainsinanime]

I sometimes reblog posts about US Americans being weird here, but honestly I don't love how angry or smug most of these posts are. It's just that angry and smug posts tend to get more traction, and so they get reblogged more, and so I tend to see them and reblog them myself. Hm, maybe there's a lesson for all of social media and for me in particular here.

Anyway, what I want out of these posts is not for any US Americans here to feel bad; it's just "funny" and perhaps, perhaps a tiny bit of consideration for how being US American means you experience the internet on easy mode.

This is not your personal fault. Nor is it ethically wrong. It's just a thing that exists, and it may be worth thinking about it.

Examples of that easy mode include:

It's your language. The vast majority of people on the internet need to know a second language to at least participate passively, let alone actively post. It's not just the internet; for e.g. my job, all documentation for all the tools is only in English, and I was required to listen to English lectures and write both my bachelor's and master's thesis in English, my second language, to pass. That's why e.g. posts about bilingualism tend to cause a bit of a discussion, because knowing a second language isn't a special skill but a necessary survival tool.

It is your world-wide culture. The list of most popular video games, TV shows, movies and songs tend to be fairly similar across the world (in particular the part of it we call it the western world, another discussion that I'll get into below), and they're dominated by the output of US media. There is no equivalent to e.g. Disney anywhere outside of the US.

It's your debates and discussions. Because of the huge importance the US has economically and culturally (not to mention militarily), we tend to discuss US topics a lot, and we tend to discuss them from an American point of view.

This introduces American oddities into a lot of the world. For example, I'm a STEM guy, I have a STEM education, a STEM job and my primary hobbies are also STEM based, so what I notice are imperial measurements like feet and inches. Those are not "one of two equally valid choices", they're the unique hobby of the English-speaking countries, and within them, increasingly only the US. But we still tend to see them here as if they were a normal usual thing, and often europeans (including me) feel compelled to provide translations into these units.

But it's not limited to that, court room dramas are another example where courts in the English-speaking world tend to work very differently from those in the rest of the world. E.g. there's no pleading guilty or innocent in most of the world. There are boundless more examples of that, and these things can be grating every once in a while.

As I said before, I don't think there's any moral value here either way. You're not wrong for being an American (but you're also not better because of it). As I hinted at before, I'm still in a very privileged position myself, being from a wealthy European country, and my culture even without Disney is still far closer to that of the US than it is to most of the rest of the world. I'm sitting in the very same glass house, just maybe a different corner (TODO fix this metaphor before posting).

For example, I'm talking about court rooms and inches versus meters, but if we're thinking about history and ethics, there's deep issues in both of them. When it comes to measurements, it's ultimately the question of whether you use the measurements of London or those of Paris. For most of the world it's a colonial imposition either way. You can make arguments for why one is better for technology than the other (and as you can probably guess, I have strong opinions here), but in the grand scheme of things, neither of them is more "ethical" or more "universal", not really anyway. Same with the way legal systems work, where again, countries either adopted (and more often than not were forced to adopt) either the English system or the French system (with quite a few countries choosing to adopt the German version of the French system as well).

I know that's a boring digression but it's something that's usually missing from these posts, especially ones written by europeans, including some I've written myself. I don't really have a conclusion to any of this either, except perhaps that this is something that's worth being aware of.