#and it’s weird because I do have the money for it. in a way.

[monstersflashlight]

Okay, hear me out: Oviposition with your insect-morph or alien partner that can go either to a cnc/dubcon play space if you want, but like...reader slowly becomes addicted to being a broodmother. Bonus points if reader is a fembunny with strong breeding instinct? :3

A/N: Hi there! This was hella fun to write, I though it would make more sense not to make reader a bunny hybrid but hope this meets all your expectations, I personally think turned out pretty good. (Also want to recommend this Stardew Valley fic because it’s the first time I read brood-mother kink and it def changed my perspective). Enjoy!

Brood-mother

Insect-monsters x fem!reader || oviposition, free use, heavy dub-con, breeding, brood-mother kink, aphrodisiacs

You walked into that cave without idea, without knowing what the fuck you were supposed to do there. When the wizard hired you for a special mission, going as far as looking specifically for you because apparently you had everything he needed, you didn’t argue much. He said some cryptic stuff as he gave you instructions to walk into the cave and look for something, he only said you’ll know when you found it, and you, silly you, accepted. It was good money, and it seemed simple enough, even if the wizard was creepy as fuck and you didn’t even know what you were looking for.

You had been walking in the cave for less than ten minutes when you felt something against your back, and you fell face down to the ground. You didn’t have time to turn around, didn’t have time to react before you felt some slimy substance around your hands and ankles. It was disgusting and you tried to get it off but you couldn’t move, the substance pinned you down to the ground. You were panicking, unable to move in any direction… and then you felt it. It was like tiny pokes against your back, against your legs, and buzzing sounds that made you shiver. What was that?

You turned your head to the side in time to see a bunch of crawling-insects running in your direction, you were about to scream when something was shoved inside your mouth. You didn’t know what it was, but it tasted amazing and you latched to it, sucking strongly to get more of that substance. The reaction was fast, your whole body getting hotter as you felt the first insects getting to your body.

The tore your clothes off, your body being stripped as you groaned and moaned against the weird thing in your mouth, unable to scream, unable to stop sucking that sweet nectar that was driving you slowly insane. You barely remembered the words of the wizard when they said you would be prepared and ready when they arrived. What seemed cryptic at the moment made total sense when you realized they were preparing you for them, they were making sure you were fertile and breedable for them.

They needed a queen… and they found you.

That was your last thought before you felt something akin to a cock was shoved into your pussy without preamble. It felt weird, ridged and harder than a human penis, but it rubbed against your walls in a way that made your head dizzy with pleasure as you got wetter and wetter. It didn’t take long before you felt the appendage parting inside of you, the side pressing against your G-spot, the tip probing at your cervix before something was inserted into your uterus. An egg. They were laying eggs inside of you. You wanted to run away, to scream… to care. But it felt so good. It felt too good and your brain wasn’t even yours anymore, you could only think of pleasure and breeding, of being full of them so you could be their queen. Their real queen.

That cock was pulled out and another took its place, thrusting into your body without mercy as you squirmed in pleasure, your pussy convulsing as you came around it. Another egg was pushed inside you. And another dick shoved inside your dripping pussy. An egg. A dick. An egg. A dick. It was an intoxicating circle that drove your brain and body into a frenzy.

You’d never felt something like that, being at the complete mercy of creatures you couldn’t even name was making you aroused, aroused to the point of juices pooling under your body. Maybe it was the aphrodisiac, but deep down you knew you were just perverted, and the fact that you were just a fuck-hole to breed for them… it made you hot. The idea that you will be pregnant with all their eggs… it made your clit tingle harder as another egg was pushed inside of you. It was intoxicating.

It continued for hours, they pumped you so full of eggs you felt about to explode, your stomach distended pushed your body into an awkward angle that only made your pussy more available for the next round. So many of them filled you, you lost count of how many eggs there could be inside of you. You came so many times you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore.

But then the buzzing stopped. “Shush little explorer, I’ve sent them away, they already did their job… They found the brood-mother,” the creepy voice of the wizard resonated inside your half asleep brain as you felt the slimy restrains disappear and he took your body, too tired to fight back.

[fairyhaos]

◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not four in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 

He isn't. 

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

[mossyeyeballs]

TW: mentions of pretty much everything terrible. 🍇, trafficking, all of the above.

CLASS OF 09 RANT, FLIP SIDE SPOILERS

Ok not my usual post (I’ve posted twice ik but shush) but what the freak was the flip side??….. I was a huge fan of class of 09 + the re up but this game was so.. what’s the word….. dog shit? Even if we ignore half of the game being about the creators weird foot fetish, the sl@ve ending was so unnecessary. I feel like the only thing in that route that was worth writing was the issue in retail work and that wasn’t even the star focus, let alone side focus. The main plot of that route was the counselor having some weird illegal 🌽 warehouse, jecka finding it, and then him blackmailing her into human 🚙 🚙 ing?

The only ending I thought was necessary IF THAT was when Jecka found Nicole after the sue a side ending from re up. I thought it did a decent job at talking about sue a side victims, and how nobody really cares about them until it’s too late, And even then they only care for a week or so and then move on.

But the Jeffery dying one was the most out of place in my opinion (unfortunately it beats the foot ending.) For starters, Nicole was really out of character imo, like yeah she’s talked about wishing Jeffery was dead before, but her actually killing him just out of boredom is so odd. Her entire character is “I don’t put effort into anything unless it benefits me.” Killing Jeffrey was not only ALOT of effort, but she gained absolutely nothing. On top of that, saying it’s different than doing. Like how she talked about wishing her mom was dead, but then when she had a heart attack, she panicked. Plus, she PLANNED on making Jecka take some of the blame on his death, which she stated in past games she wouldn’t do. She literally never put Jecka in harms way, let alone jail if it didn’t also benefit them both. But this didn’t, she just did it to do it.

While we’re talking about Nicole being out of character, I feel it valid to mention her and Jeckas dad. For obvious (and gross) reasons, I won’t be detailing this, but her doing that to Jecka wasn’t fully out of character, but still odd. Like I mentioned earlier, Nicole never really did anything to spite Nicole, so I find it odd that she did in this game. You could blame it on “oh she’s a sociopath she doesn’t care.” But I don’t think that’s inherently true. Yeah, I guess it’s canon she’s a sociopath, but in that case they do a bad job at consistency. She’s shown in both games 1 and 2 caring about people she’s close with, whether it’s Jecka, her mom, or even Emily in one segment. So I find it completely random that she did this to Jecka over something as small as not sharing how she got into foot work. Jeckas done much worse stuff to Nicole, and Nicole just didn’t care because they were friends, or didn’t feel the need to put effort into doing something if she did care. So yeah, Nicole basically screwing Jeckas dad over something so little felt out of character.

One of the few things that bothered me the least, but I feel the need to mention was the foot work stuff. Not because it was out of character, i fear I’ve seen worse stuff mentioned in that game. But I guess the way it was portrayed as less of a story plot and more of the creator trying to live out his fantasies. He himself has stated Jeffrey is basically a self insert, so the whole being sexually obsessed with Jecka and her feet felt REALLY weird. Compared to Nicole’s my space favor thing, this just felt dirty. For comparison. Both Jecka and Nicole took up sex work to keep a home life or lackthereof, they both got money from strangers to do sexual things, and they both hated doing it. But why did Jeckas feel so much more personal and gross? Because the actual sex work was shown. In graphic detail. And all of Jeffrey’s (the creators) personal thoughts were stated with no backlash. Jeffery literally asked Jecka if she would 🍒feed him, and he was excused. When Nicole was asked the same hing from the same guy, he was insulted, yelled at, even told to leave.

So, creepy creator who’s obsessed with his barely legal characters, Jecka being sold to 🚙 🚙ing agaisnt her will, Jeffrey being murdered for no reason other than a giggle or two from his haters, Jecka accidentally killing Ari cause she was drunk driving, feet fan service, and fan service in general aside, the game is left only with the regular drug and alcohol abusage we always see. which in the game that was advertised as a new experience felt really stale and honestly left me bored. The ONE SINGULAR time during this game that I giggled was when the hat man appeared in the Ari route.

If you’ve fully ignored everything I said in this, maybe didn’t care, or didn’t even read it. Id just like to mention for everyone that the creator of this game said that anybody who disliked him, his games, his writing, or his humor were kid diddlers. In full seriousness. So yeah, no shock this game was bad, but I guess I shouldn’t have expected better from someone who thinks his haters are all child likers. All this being said, I enjoyed class of 09, and the re up. I’m hoping the anime episode that comes out soon with be a decent save. all of THAT being said, I don’t support this creator. I don’t support his actions, I think he’s a shitty person who’s made some shitty jokes, but made some not so shitty games that I decently enjoyed. I also haven’t bought them, so none of my money has gone towards him or his projects. I in NO WAY support him. Thanks for reading.

Feel free to comment down some of your own opinions if you feel so inclined, I’m interested in what everyone else thought of this game :))

[lexithwrites]

Please more sugardaddy moonwater hcs. Pls!!

this might get long sorry (but this is kinda what i wanna write next so pls give me feedback) xoxo

they met through a sugar daddy website that james showed to remus one night (he's on it and is absolutely not telling him that he's met a guy)

remus is so embarrassed at first, he was on tinder like twice and had bad dates because of it so he isn't exactly confident this will work but he does get a lot of attention

he gets messages from kinda old guys, and a few older women, that are either way too pushy with what they want in return for an 'allowance' or just kinda creepy and he almost deletes it

then he gets a message off of someone young, maybe his age, and he's gorgeous

remus is so sure its a scam, no one can look that good and be on an app like this but he messages them anyway when they say hi first, and he asks about them and the guy is regulus arcturus black (he gives his full name, he's a loser) and he's literally just looking for company and someone to spend money on, nothing in return, he doesn't need it

remus is kinda shook because like what?? how is this guy lonely he must have friends but turns out regulus just has rich friends that can buy their own things, he doesn't have anyone to spend time with other than when he goes to family events which he hates

and remus is like okay,,,,maybe drinks first and regulus sends him the location of probably the nicest bar in london and remus is close to passing out because he cannot afford this at all but he said he'd go

he wears his nicest outfit (its a brown jumper and some nice trousers and his converse, he cant afford anything else rn because his cat started a hunger strike against the food he's had for a year and remus had to upgrade, kids eh?)

regulus is already there because he is never a minute late, and checking his rolex thinking he's been stood up but remus runs in like 'hi im so sorry i missed the train hi' and regulus is in love already, just straight up his heart starts hammering in his chest because not only is remus gorgeous in a weird, dorky way but he's just...he's adorable

regulus is calm tho, think levi ackerman levels of expression, he just kinda sits there arms folded and asks remus questions about his life and what he would like as an allowance and remus is just,,,confused?

he asks why regulus wants to spend his money on him and regulus insists he's bored (he's so fucking lonely and wants someone around him to dote on) and just needs a date to events as his parents are giving him shit for being single at 26

remus is unsure but decides fuck it, james can probably throw hands if regulus tried anything, and they agree to attend some gala together for regulus' family and remus says he'll have to get new clothes and regulus then sets up a date the next day to buy him an outfit and its a lil montage of regulus giving remus clothes to try its very cute

and is remus confused and guilt ridden for this man spending money on him? yeah, duh, but also he doesn't have to pay his bills anymore, he has amazing clothes, his stress levels are so fucking low than before, and he likes regulus....he really really likes him

and regulus is getting what he wants, but also he has remus lupin as eye candy and that's an added bonus, and god remus is so adorable and nerdy and he wants to climb him like a tree

also yes remus sees james at the event and he's like what the fuck are you doing here and turns out james is with HIS sugar daddy, aka regulus' brother and its a whole ordeal

and maybe one night regulus invites remus to stay with him for the night because its too late to get the train and he doesn't really want to let remus go and maybe they drink wine and maybe they touch just to see what its like and maybe MAYBE they kiss and make out and fuck slow and deep and then AND THEN—

i might write more if people like this idk,,,,

[salchat]

This is my tiny, innocent Dean. I've drawn him for the story I'm working on at the moment, which I'm having tremendous fun with! It's a version of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca and is my first venture into the omegaverse, because I needed Dean to be the young omega who gets swept off his feet by the older, widowed Castiel Novak.

It could be a couple of weeks before I begin posting, because I have quite a few things to work out. I may add some Secret Garden to the mix, or a dash of Jane Eyre, just for fun. But one thing's for sure - the path to true love will not run smooth! This relationship is going to have a lot of issues to work through!

Anyway, if you'd like to read a scene, there's one below the cut...

The maitre d’s voice rang through the dining room.  “Alpha Castiel Novak!”

“Oh, good heavens!”  Mrs Butters’ shrill exclamation jolted Dean out of his daydreams.  “It's Castiel Novak! No, don't look!”

He had no intention of looking.  It’d just be another more-money-than-sense alpha knothead, puffing himself up to be admired and fawned over.  Dean didn’t give a shit.  Whereas Mrs B wet her panties every time some new high society stiff arrived at the hotel.  Still, spilling her shit-load of toxic gossip meant that Dean wasn’t getting lectured or slapped or whacked with the hard wooden edge of her fan, so he’d put on his best listening face and count it a win.

She leant toward him.  “Castiel Novak is one of The Novaks.  The Novaks, Dean.”

Who the fuck were the Novaks?

“Fabulously wealthy, one of the best traditional families.”

Assholes, then.

“Their estate is in Eversett.”  She frowned.  “Or Meldonshire.  Somewhere like that.”  She waved an airy hand, her eyes glued to the alpha’s position.  “Lebanon, the house is called.  One of the few Great Houses still being managed as it should.  Oh, he's coming this way! Oh good heavens! Oh my!”

Dean anchored his eyes to the salt and pepper set in order not to roll them.  Mrs B might not want to be seen slapping her omega companion in public, but she had a retentive memory for any little slip-up and would be sure to save up one of her best for later if she caught him.

“But sir, we can set another table next to the dance floor for you.  Really, it would be no trouble.”  The maitre d’ was going full-throttle with the smarm.

Dean didn’t catch the words of the response – just a rumble, like something heavy dragging over gravel.

“Or with a view of the terrace.  It would be the work of a moment, Mr Novak.  And a much more pleasant situation.”

The rumble was louder but no more distinct.

“Then please, allow me to bring a bottle of our best champagne.”

The gravel scraped again.  

“Whiskey.  Yes, of course, sir.  And the a la carte menu.”

The gravel stirred itself into a snarl.  Jeez, this guy was more knot-headed than most.

“A hamburger.  Of course, sir.  Followed by a slice of… pie.”  The weird newcomer might as well have requested a lump of dirt followed by a morsel of shit.  Dean couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk.  He couldn’t stop the rumble of his far from satisfied stomach either.

“Dean.”  The fan rapped his knuckles.  But she hadn’t noticed the smirk.  “Dean, stop daydreaming.  Sit up straight.”

Huh.  She was regretting taking the best chair now.  Dean, with the kitchen door flapping open and shut at his back and regular nudges to his chair from passing waiting staff, had a direct view to the next table-for-two.

Mrs B leant toward him.  “What’s he doing?”  Her pink lips moved in an exaggerated stage whisper.

“You want me to look at the alpha…uh, Mr Nover?  Novem?”

“Novak!  And yes, of course I want you to look!  Tell me what he’s doing!”

Dean looked up.  The alphas face was in shadow, downturned as if he were studying the thread-count of the tablecloth.  He had a lot of dark, messy hair.  One hand was visible, a fingertip pressing down on the blade of his fish knife so that the handle wobbled up and down.

“They say he can’t get over the death of his wife, you know.  Such a beauty, so spirited.  Amara was her name.  So sad.”  Restless fingers twitched at the stem of her wine glass.  “What’s he doing?”

“Nothing,” said Dean.  “Just sitting.”

“He must be doing something.”  Mrs B started twisting in her chair but caught herself in time, before she gave herself away as the insatiable rubber-necker that she was at heart.  “Tomorrow you can sit here and I’ll sit there!”

“Yes, ma’am.”  A passing waiter narrowly missed his head with a tray of soup.  She was welcome to Dean’s seat.

“Hasn’t he even smiled at the Contessa?  He must have noticed her, and I’m sure they know each other.  They were both at the Duke or Northerton’s ball two years ago last Christmas.”

The Contessa di Faraglione had been the object of Mrs B’s gossip for the past week since she’d arrived with her retinue of servants the week before.  She was old news now, though.  This Novak guy was the target now, and Dean would be used to help engineer an opportunity of speaking to him, which would be really embarrassing.  Like when Mrs B had made him take her card to the Contessa’s suite, claiming some kind of distant family connection.  The butler had told him to fuck off.  Probably.  Dean didn’t speak Italian.

A gust of warm, savoury air and a swell of noise at his back announced the opening of the kitchen door.  Dean hunched forward so he didn’t get a tray dumped on his head.  But the waiter was one of the more agile.  He swerved around Dean, hung a right and brought the tray down in a sweeping arc, perfectly timed to present its load to the occupant of the next table.

The occupant of the next table looked up at his meal and smiled.

And okay, yeah, it was a nice-looking hamburger.  Normally it would have had Dean transfixed, salivating with envy.  But it wasn’t the juicy patties and shiny, domed bun that brought Dean’s mind, his heart, his every-fucking-thing to a juddering halt.

Dean hadn’t seen the ocean until he was fifteen.  Before that it had been one dusty town after another, Dad dragging him and Sammy around like unwanted baggage.  But when a job had finally taken them to the coast, it’d been like all the heat and grime was washed away by that fresh, salty air.  And the colours in that huge ocean had taken his breath away.

It was the same now.  The drab, grey despair that made up Dean’s life was suddenly gone, and his world was full of ocean blue depths in the eyes of this strange alpha – strange but gorgeous, from his eyes to the soft bow of his lips to the commanding strength of his nose.  

Dean was heartily glad of his over-powdered cheeks.  Fuck, what was he thinking, blushing over some rich alpha who wouldn’t look at Dean once, let alone twice?  He really needed to get a hold of himself.

But the way that guy was looking at the burger was like he hadn’t eaten in years.  Imagine if he looked at Dean that way.  Although, maybe he’d been sick or something.  The shadows beneath his cheek bones looked sharper than they should and beneath his eyes too, little round ridges of dark cast by the bright chandeliers above them.  This alpha needed burgers and plenty of them.  Dean’s skin itched with the need to cook and cosset and caress, and Jesus fucking Christ, he was really losing it here, wasn’t he?  Really giving into his inner lapdog who just needed an alpha to boss him around to be happy.

The waiter flickered across Dean’s vision again and Mr Novak was left alone to enjoy his hamburger.  He picked up his knife and fork and raised them.  Which was a thing you did, Dean supposed, in a high-class dining room.  You ate a burger with a knife and fork.  But then his forehead crinkled into the suggestion of a frown.  He shook his head.  His rounded lips flattened into a tiny smile.  He put down his silverware.  And he picked up the burger in both hands.

“Close your mouth, Dean.”  Mrs B’s spoon scraped her bowl, chink, chink, chink, even though there was hardly any of the creamy sauce left.

Dean closed his mouth.  Then his eyes returned to the table over her shoulder.  Mr Novak hadn’t taken a bite.  He was still holding his hamburger in two hands, staring at it like he’d found the Holy Grail.

Then his eyes flicked up and fastened onto Dean’s.  Dean should look down.  He should drop his eyes like the shitty little omega-nothing that he was.  Instead he stared into the ocean.

And Mr Castiel Novak smiled at him.  Just a little smile.  Barely there before it was gone, and then he was chowing down on his meal, all his attention on his food, his eyes closing as he chewed his first mouthful, then opening again to get a load of the burger cross-section he’d created.  Did it have pickle, Dean wondered?  Mayo, cheese, the works?  Would he bite down through the whole lot, getting all the flavours in at once, in between those perfect pink lips?  And was Dean salivating over the man or the burger?

He was looking at Dean again.  Looking and smiling and nodding as if they were having an actual conversation about how great hamburgers were in general and this one in particular.

“Dean!”  

A sharp pain on his knuckles brought Dean’s attention snapping back to his employer.

“Dean!  Bridge!  The Spanish drawing room!”

“Yes, ma’am.  Sorry, ma’am.”  Bridge.  Of course it was time for bridge.  His world closed in with an almost audible snap.  Bridge was played at eight o’clock sharp every night and Dean and Mrs B were there, every single night; she to play and gossip and drink sherry, he to sit in a corner and try not to exist too loudly until he was needed.

He pushed his chair back, clumsily, and was sworn at by a passing waiter.

“Dean!”

Jeez.  He wasn’t the one who’d sworn, was he?

“Yes, ma’am.”  He rounded the table and pulled out his employer’s chair and collected up her purse and her wrap.  And he didn’t even glance over his shoulder to the most perfect alpha he’d ever seen, as he followed her to another evening of excruciating dullness in his excruciatingly dull life.

[gleefultogo]

Ugh Excuse Me? (screenshots at bottom of post)

Alright so ladies and gentlemen. Turns out kique and his white-knights in fact stalking our tumblr posts. Can't say I'm surprised, but whatever. you guys have your opinions and we have ours. First of all we are just people would love to speak our opinions without being sidelined because you're a fragile as fuck 32 year old man? like man act your age. second of all, I for one do not make these posts to "bully" or anything. I am simply putting you on the spot for all the shit you have caused, even before home comic. everyone who read your comic asmundr saw how you'd treat your readers. Even paying ones! The public should know how you are to others. if they choose to support you or not. Thats fine, that's their choice. I do not control the other people here. you are not a good person then what you think you are, you treat others like shit unless they kissing your ass and giving you money. Look man, I don't give a care what you do or if you do art and comics. but most of us here were former fans that got tired of your bullshit when someone didn't agree with you. It's not that hard to understand, call us haters all you want. I for one have only put out stuff regarding your actions with linked proof. I never edited my shit or faked what I posted. unlike you who have a habit of editing your post to make yourself seem a victim and bullying someone else to make them look worse. how's that any better? we saw what you posted on a DA post about zirvasity and edited it. also my dude, wtf is this?

Never had I once claimed "sexual assault or abuse" about you towards another person, kindly correct yourself. in no way has that been said in any posts. About your weird and terrible take on rape yeah? But SA? nah man, I draw the line at that, unless you can show me legitimate proof. kindly correct yourself. That was never said about you. I have a limit. also disclaimer, but I have no idea who leaked your patreon shit. I know for a fact that wasn't me cause I respect the paywall and since thats how you make your income. you can beef it out with whoever did. Also no one made comments about your transgender either. I don't care. Thats a you thing, and if it makes you happy, cool I'm glad but that also a false claim. I'm not some homophobic person. I'm just some person talking about your comic and the many issues with it. Thats all, heck if you weren't so fragile you could learn from it also. Critique isn't a bad thing. You just refuse any help given to you for the better. You can bitch all you want for all I care and play victim, there's still proof out there about your behavior. learn to be a better person maybe and people wouldn't dislike you?.

Kique's post from instgram. edited to make him seem like he's innocent further. But my point still stands. P.S., If there are grammar errors, english is not my first language. But it should still get the point across.

[coimbrabertone]

Closing the Doors is Bad for Indycar

Today, Indycar has announced its charter system.

On face value, I see the case for this being a good thing. The likes of Ganassi, Rahal, Coyne, Andretti, and Penske themselves have been in the sport for decades and I see this as a way of giving back to them. The teams that have been in Indycar and contributed to its great moments and iconic races deserve some sense of security and a financial safety net should they choose to cash out.

I mean, the fact that such historic names as Newman/Haas and Forsythe are completely gone from Indycar racing is pretty sad.

That part is good, however...the problem I have with the charter system is the numbers.

There will be 25 charters.

Of these, 22 charters will receive leader circle money.

Additionally, 27 grid slots will be the norm outside of the Indianapolis 500.

I disagree with every single one of these numbers. 25 charters is an arbitrary number and it has caused a 3-car limit to be instituted in Indycar, leading to Chip Ganassi Racing having to cut two cars and fire a whole bunch of people.

2024 Rookie of the Year Linus Lundqvist looks like he'll be out of a job for 2025.

2023 Rookie of the Year Marcus Armstrong is getting farmed out to Meyer Shank Racing, which will have a technical alliance with Ganassi for 2025.

Meanwhile Kyffin Simpson, who is 21st in points in the same team that won the championship with Alex Palou this year, is expected to take over the chartered CGR #8 because his father owns Ridgeline Lubricants which is a major sponsor of the team.

This is what the charter system is for? Getting people fired and ensuring a paydriver keeps his seat? Ridiculous.

And three of these charters not getting leader circle money...quite frankly this rule only exists because of Penske Entertainment being cheap and not wanting to spend more money than they already do. It makes absolutely zero sense to have chartered cars not getting leader circle money.

The purpose of the charters is to give back to the teams that have made Indycar what it is? Well, only giving money to the top twenty-two doesn't do that.

And twenty-seven grid slots at races outside of the Indianapolis 500...this part arguably pisses me off the most, because there is no reason for this rule.

Garage space at Mid-Ohio? There were thirty-six Craftsman Trucks at Mid-Ohio in the 2023 O'Reilly Auto Parts 150 last year, you can find a couple of extra pit stops.

Toronto has a weird pitlane ever since that hotel got built? Move it. Hell, a few years ago we had a pileup, and the pace car took the cars under the Princes Gate and onto a closed road over there, make that the pitlane! How cool would that be? Cars peeling off underneath a neoclassical arch to get into the pits.

You can make more than twenty-seven cars work.

Indycar just doesn't want to.

They want twenty-five charters and the two Prema cars for next year, that's it.

Furthermore, it sounds like the plan is to decrease that limit to twenty-five cars total, so every car left will be chartered.

This rule, along with the money for the top twenty-two, makes me think that the plan is for Prema to eventually force out and buy out a Dale Coyne or an Ed Carpenter Racing.

So much for protecting the owners, huh?

Thus, this rule isn't really about protecting the owners, it's about producing artificial exclusivity. The same kind of shit that Formula One has pulled to Andretti, and now the series that Andretti races in wants to do that as well. It's cynical, it's hypocritical, and it's not good for the sport.

Zak Brown of McLaren has said a lot of good things when it comes to Indycar's future, but one thing he said that really irritated me is that idea that quality is better than quantity when it comes to racing.

First of all, quality and quantity are not mutually exclusive here.

Second of all, quantity sure spiced up the show at Milwaukee with the amount of lapped cars that the leaders needed to negotiate, providing for constant drama and always giving chasing cars the opportunity to close in.

Third of all, Indycar is not Formula One, and it should not try to be Formula One.

Indycar is great because it races on so many disciplines: road courses, street circuits, short ovals, superspeedways, all of it. But another thing that makes Indycar great is how open it has been in comparison as well.

Formula One has limited teams to running two cars, Indycar has traditionally allowed teams to run as many cars as they want. Some teams ran one, some ran as many as five or six, and that's beautiful. It's given teams the flexibility to expand and add a car if they want to, meaning that it was always theoretically possible for a big team like Penske, Ganassi, or Andretti to pick up your favorite driver.

That's going away.

All the teams in 2025 will run either two or three cars, with the small teams generally running two and the big teams generally running three. That's not fun.

And with this charter system capped at twenty-five and more inclined to shrink rather than expand, it doesn't give any flexibility for the future.

Ed Carpenter Racing could sell tomorrow to the infinite money glitch that is the Saudi Public Investment Fund, and they'd still only have their two cars available, with limited options to ever acquire a third.

Limited options to ever climb to the level of Penske and Ganassi.

Thus, it only serves to reinforce the stale duopoly that has dominated modern Indycar.

I don't want to be negative about Indycar. I want to unconditionally love this sport, I want to be excited about seeing 235 mile per hour laps at Michigan, Pocono, and Fontana, I want to see drivers cutting through the streets of Surfers Paradise and Vancouver, I want to see a classic photo finish at a Chicagoland or a Kansas.

I want to see Arrow McLaren taking the fight to Penske and Ganassi, I want to see RLL get better and bounce back on the ovals, I want to see Andretti Global come to the Indianapolis 500 with an armada of five or six cars like they used to.

I want to see competition between chassis manufacturers and engine manufacturers, I want to see cars that look fast and innovative but can still bump and bang side-by-side or protect a driver in a high-speed crash. I want a series that doesn't tuck its tail and run away the moment football season starts.

Instead, Indycar wants to be aging cars that look like crap racing around street circuits in Dallas and Denver (for the third time) with one of Will Power, Josef Newgarden, Scott McLaughlin, Scott Dixon, or Alex Palou winning.

And you don't even get the benefit of running an ancient formula because of this arbitrary limit on the number of cars. There are 60-65 Dallara DW12s in current service amongst the teams, more if we count older chasses, show cars, and rebuilt tubs, so why on Earth are we insisting on only racing twenty-five of these goddamn things?!?

I could understand if there was a new car in limited quantities, but this car is old and there are a lot of them out there, so if we can't get a new car, at least, at least, let us experience the benefit of this 13-year-old car but running as many of them as possible every race weekend.

But we don't.

The series continues to make the most mediocre decisions possible while hoping that great racing can make us forget about all their mistakes.

That doesn't really work when you have an offseason from September to March full of your bad decisions.

In other news, MotoGP made me happy with a tense battle between Jorge Martin and Enea Bastianini in the closing stages of the Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix at Misano ending with Bastianini barging his way through to take his second win of the season. While in F1, Lando Norris dominated at Singapore and even managed to lead the first lap from pole position.

Baby's first good race start...I'm so proud.

NASCAR at Bristol Night also happened, but uhh...yeah, the less said about that, the better.

[drakewyne]

me, thinking of the dress:

me: CRAZY

( cw: dark au, ünternet au, referenced sw. )

ISO nancy: *fazing in. out. in mirror. kicking gogo boot up. little spin.*

black cat tim: *on computer* " . . . *stops typing* . . . *looks over shoulder* "weird that you have an Appearance."

ISO nancy: *scowling* "rude." *buzzing beside him* "weird You have an appearance. weird you have one and barely do anything With it. *moving his chin* 'cause i've seen a Lot worse."

tim: "i pull a lot with the leg harness."

ISO nancy: " . . . pull Yourself, maybe." *buzzing* "anyway, what's That mean? you sound Stupid. coadjutor ISOs like me are evolved to be appealing."

tim: "fucking- Gross."

ISO nancy: "no shit." *buzzing, semi fairy like in air* "but it's so we're more predisposed to be spoken to. we're relayers. we relay. shitheads in the ünternet Already try to keep it lowkey. if you have to talk, might as well be to someone cute. 's why you see a lot of old ISO co's in the club doing bottle service faking IR girlie realness."

tim: "what if they get Horny?"

ISO nancy: "that depends." ( "on what?" ) "do they have Credits?"

tim: "oh that is so Fucked."

ISO nancy: "it's a darkseid and sivana project that kuttler blew a load all over- it's not a family friendly Place."

tim: "what do you need credits for anyway? you have everything you need."

ISO nancy, looking in mirror: "yeah, it's swanky. but it's Expensive to be on the run. you have to get fake Algos, fake Authorization, fake Lives. and ISO derezzer bots got Good. i've had to restart a million times. I'm not biting it. No. Fucking. Way."

tim: "so you've Slept with these assholes?"

ISO nancy: "Also No Fucking Way! be a Million percent real! look, *crossing arms, hip jut* i'll do a lot of shit, but not that. also those guys have Zero loyalty. they'll report you Regardless. they got what they wanted! no more skin in the game."

tim: " . . . so how'd you get the money?"

ISO nancy: "ooh. very good question. back in the day, coadjutors logged all your shit. if you were getting too screwy, they kicked you. but not me. i saw the writing on the wall. i got the logged shit. but I had the idea of using it for nancy Good. give me Credits, Or i boot all your bullshit into the outer world."

tim: "extortion."

ISO nancy: "you better believe it. and Because i'm the one that won't boot you, i log Heavy. i can't dog the others. it's still pretty psychosexual. i get All the big weirdos. because when you're unbound by moral in a moralless place, what do you Want?"

tim: " . . . you want to be grounded." ( "uh huh." ) "and users can't really Kill or Get Killed there in a way that matters." ( "now you get it." ) "nancy. were you Charging guys to Debase themselves in the name of higher Consciousness?"

ISO nancy: "don't look so shocked! i let You do it for free."

tim: "you knowing my Bullshit gives me Nothing sexual."

ISO nancy: "then why do you get me Presents?"

[lightofraye]

jared's relationship (or lack thereof) with the cast frankly weirds me out. is he ever supportive of their new projects? if he couldn't attend this event, he could have at the very least helped promote it if he believes in the cause. he has time to check twitter and get upset over what some teenagers are tweeting about him but not about his own nasty longstanding stans. neither does he have time to engage positively in good causes

i thought he so badly wanted to get on The Boys but he can't make the time to fly out and meet the show's faves and chill with them. does he really believe he's above it all?

i'm starting to believe fans truly do reflect their favorites and he's coming off petty and entitled. unfortunately, his attitude towards the cast translates into his fans calling everyone else "extras" and treating jensen as an accessory

look at jensen and misha surrounded by all the lovely people they've been friends with for years, and then look at jared in the corner all by himself

i'm not saying he owes anyone anything but for someone so chronically online to be ignoring the awesome things happening and focusing on his personal online bullies leaves a bad taste in my mouth

and using him not being in California as an excuse for not being there last night.

Rob and Ruth were in Scotland and they attended via Zoom. Not sure where Mark S or Curtis were, but they also attended via Zoom and weren't at the house with the others. Laz Alonso and Valorie Curry also attended via Zoom. There were other ways to be there.

He wasn't there either because he didn't want to be or he wasn't wanted. Pick your poison.

also stop being so hypocritical, you complain about Danneel cutting of Jensen when Jared does it as well and alot more. You complain when anyone makes a jokes a to Jensen about jensen but is comletely ok when Jared does the same.

You are such a fucking asshole that noone likes

I was wondering when the anti Jared folks would come out.

Given how Rob and Rich are banking on Destiel for their podcast, small wonder Jared does anything with them. Jensen is a far patient man than I would be. And Jared seemed to get along well with Ruth during duos recently.

And Jared didn’t beg Kripke at all. Kripke begged him! And he doesn’t engage with many folks on social media anymore. He’s grown as a person, has owned up to his issues.

Not everyone has to stay friends after their work has ended.

You can keep trying to paint him a bad person, but who’s the one getting pissy on social media about politics and his role? (Misha.) Who is trying to take fans’ data and sell it? (Misha.) Who tries to post thirst traps for money? (Misha.) Who tried to leverage Destiel for politics? (Misha.) Who exaggerates and lies about stories that netted death threats against Jared? (Misha.)

Y’all know you can’t win this argument. So again: why are you trying? Go write your Destiel fantasies on your blogs and leave me and other Jared fans be.

[seilon]

god i want to live alone in a decent one bedroom apartment near where i work so badly why is that so much to ask. that should not be much to ask

[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done

[imthatwannabeauthor]

.

[sesamestreep]

for your consideration in the “it’s a nice problem to have but still definitely a problem” category: the people I spent most of this summer so far interviewing with for a job didn’t hire me but, in their rejection email, they told me to apply for another job they’d be posting at the end of the month and so now I’m in maybe the most awkward job application process of my life

[arts-i-enjoy]

AHHHHHH

[angeltism]

"spar.kle is fictional who cares" I have seen people praising her for her racist anti-romani comments what the fuck kind of world do you live in

[bmpmp3]

my inability to play mobile games nowadays is also a source of suffering as a person who loves rhythm games. i miss her (SIF1).....