racepak-blog1

[moonstruckme]

vampire!james is such a fun concept!

what about if reader was a newly turned vampire too and James lets her feed on him

like the scene with elena feeding on damon in TVD?

because blood sharing is intimate :P

Hi lovely! I don’t really remember what this was like in TVD because I last watched that show probably 10 years ago and I don’t think I finished it but hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking, thank you for requesting <3

cw: blood, feels mature at times but no smut (vampires are just hot idk)

vampire!James x fledgling!reader ♡ 1k words

James hates seeing you like this. He remembers what it feels like—being aware for the first time of every nerve ending in your body, your mind whirring at a thousand miles a minute, everything worse and louder and so much more than it had felt when you were human. 

He’d warned you the transition would be like this, but you’d wanted it anyway. You keep trying to act like you’re alright even now, trembling from head to toe in the corner of the bed, eyes darting towards every sound and movement like your body thinks you’re under attack. The three bags of blood you’d gotten from the butcher lie empty on the floor. Normally James only needs one every few days, but this is one thing he’d forgotten about the transition, he supposes. The hunger is intense. He won’t be able to get you more for at least a few hours.

“Sweetheart,” James says softly. You still flinch as though he’s shouted. “You should try to go to sleep. It’ll help with the cravings.”

“I don’t think I can.” Your lisp is sort of cute. You haven’t been able to retract your fangs yet, have pricked your own lip more than once. “I can hear so many hearts. They’re loud.” 

James nods. He’s learned to tune them out, like the hum of electricity or the rush of wind outside, but he knows what you mean. If he focuses, he can listen to the beating heart of the bird nesting in the tree by your window, the neighbor’s cat, the woman who lives at the end of your street. Sometimes they seem synchronized together, the unceasing, steady beat of life in the world. It gets louder when he’s starving. 

“The butcher won’t be open until morning,” he tells you, though you know already. You nod, wrapping your arms around your legs. “But I can try to help, if you want. You could try feeding from me.” 

It’s an idea James has been toying with since you said you wanted to turn. He doesn’t think you could survive off each other forever—he’s not sure if he still makes new blood, if his body works that way anymore—but he doesn’t have need for his blood the way a human does. Maybe he could sate you for a bit. 

You give him a look of wary surprise, but James knows how you feel well enough to recognize the hope behind it. Any chance of feeding will sound good to you right now. 

“Can we do that?” you ask. 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But I don’t think it’ll hurt to try. Might taste a bit stale, though.” 

It’s a lame joke, and you don’t laugh. Your trembling worsens, your restraint barely holding out against your cravings. Your voice is small. “I don’t know if I can be gentle. I feel…weird.” 

James offers you a smile. “I know, honey. It’s okay. Can I touch you?” 

You nod. James is careful about it, not wanting to overstimulate your sensitive nerves. He takes your hands in his, slowly guiding you onto his lap. 

“You’re alright,” he promises. “Let me help.” 

Your brows crease, and your lip starts bleeding again when you prick it with your fang. James gently thumbs the droplet away. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you whisper, scared. 

“I’ll be fine.” He looks you in the eyes, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks calmingly. “You did it for me, right? That wasn’t so bad. Just…” James palms the back of your head, bringing it to the crook of his neck like an embrace. “Take what you need.” 

James doesn’t have a heartbeat for you to hear, but that doesn’t matter; once you’re close you can’t restrain yourself anymore. You bite into his neck eagerly. 

It feels like you described. Part of James worried that you were stretching the truth, trying to make him feel better, but the places where your mouth connects to his skin are suddenly the center of James’ universe. He can feel his blood rushing to meet you, to sate you, fill you up and be everything you need. Your low moan vibrates against his skin, and James laughs, dizzy and drunk on you. 

One of your hands fists in his hair, pulling his head further to the side. He bears his neck to you readily. He hopes you glut yourself on him, stay here with him, keep your mouth suctioned to his skin until you both die whatever deaths immortals can. 

He feels a bead of wet roll down his chest. You make a soft, thoughtless sound in the back of your throat, leaving his neck to chase it. Your tongue licks a stripe up James’ left pectoral. 

He blinks slowly as you wipe your mouth, breathing hard. It feels like waking up from a dream. You have blood smeared around your mouth and nearly dripping from your chin. You look embarrassed as you catch it with your fingers and lick them clean. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“It’s okay.” James smiles at you. He still feels slightly doped up, but it’s also sweet to see you like this, pupils still blown from the taste of him and shy about it at the same time. “You were right, that was nice.” 

One side of your mouth tilts up tentatively. “I didn’t hurt you? You were so controlled when you fed from me.” 

“That’s not your fault, honey, you can’t be controlled this early on.” James kisses you, pleased to find your fangs are starting to retract. “It’s not possible. But no, it didn’t hurt.” 

Your smile blooms with relief. “You didn’t taste stale,” you reassure him. “You sort of tasted like yourself, if that makes sense.” 

He nods. You’d tasted like yourself, too, all sticky sweet and addicting. 

You let your breath out in a whoosh, sagging in his hold. “I’m…god, how do you manage to walk home after this? I’m so tired.” 

“It gets easier with time,” James reassures you. He pets the back of your head, turning you both around so his back rests against the headboard of your bed. “You can sleep, though. We’ll clean you up tomorrow.” 

There are no arguments from you. You’re fading fast, head falling naturally back into the curve of his neck. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I wasn’t as nice about it as you were with me.” 

“Sure you were, sweetheart. You’re always nice, I don’t think you can help it.” 

“Yeah, well.” You turn your head slightly to mush a kiss over the puncture marks you’ve left him. “Thanks.” 

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

IN SICKNESS & IN HEALTH

KINKTOBER DAY 30 - VICTORIAN AU WITH ROBERT FISCHER

Pairing.| Robert Fischer x fem!reader

Summary.| You visit your sister who’s health is dropping, you find out a sickening truth from her husband.

Warnings.| Noncon, rough, fingering, innocence taking (given era), implied murder scheming, betrayal, infidelity.

Word count.| 1.8k

Notes.| Okay I actually wrote this today because 31 stories is actually draining. Very rushed as it was actually meant to be another prompt but had no motivation. Pride and Prejudice inspired me actually for this.

His bright blue eyes always felt dark, that much you knew. Even though your sister’s husband was dashing, you couldn’t help but to be heavily intimidated in his presence. Every time Francesa would tell you that he is a loving man, you held back to call her bluff. As she claimed, he was only so stern on the outside due to his demanding and harsh late father. But there was always this facade on her paling face, she’d hold her shoulders high even though it took all of her strength. 

Many times had you invited her back home, everytime she declined. Your large family home was lonely, especially with no suitors coming to visit. The back and forward letters weren’t enough to ease your sadness, you hadn’t seen her since their last ball. Even then, that was only for a short amount of time, she was feeling too unwell shortly after it commenced. 

But her husband on the other hand, Mr Fischer, would not rid his sight of you that evening. Every time you looked in his direction, you felt his piercing gaze. For what many ladies would find flattering, you found uncanny. Because Robert Fischer never said many words to you and those he did, it was dript in bitterness. 

You had traveled down to visit your charming sister in their estate. You’d never seen your sister look so weak, so dead on the outside. You expressed your concerns immediately. But she still had that unfeigned smile on her crusting lips. Every hour you spent with her, you could feel your heart crack more, you feared a gruesome future. She needed a doctor, you brought this to Robert’s attention, but he brushed it all. A doctor visited every few days and claimed that nothing else could be done besides taking the medicine and praying. 

When the room fell silent after you slammed your hand down in anger, Robert’s eyes widened. It was disturbing the way that his eyes were speaking to you. Franseca remained quiet, she could never get in between her beloved sister and dear husband. As Robert’s mouth shrugged, he strided out of the sitting room. Immediately you apologized to your sister, but she only recommended that you did so to him. Like he deserved your kindness. 

Now, you silently walked the dark halls, a candle in hand as you searched for him. He never slept much, she confessed how she would always fall asleep alone and wake up alone. Sometimes the side of his bed looked to be untouched. You heard movement in his study, so with a gentle knock and a swallow of your pride, you pushed open the door. 

The room was dimmed, a few candles flickering around the room painted the dimness with sunflower tones. He sat at his desk, with that same smug look on his face, eyes locked on you as per usual, your stomach tightened painfully. You approached him, your teeth in between your lips and sight low.

“My dearest, why are you awake at such a late hour?” Robert murmured, his eyes narrowed as he admired the white gown you wore and the way it outlined your breasts.

You didn’t like the pet names he gave you, Robert rarely called you your proper name. Only ever something to cheapen your status compared to his. It was never a compliment, you were convinced. He exhaled as you didn’t answer, you were too stubborn to apologize. But then you promised your sister you would, you huffed in frustration and put the candle down. 

“Darling?” Robert cocked a brow. 

“I apologize” you mumbled, arms crossed over. 

“Pardon?” Robert acted dumbfounded. 

“I apologize for my behavior today” you repeat yourself more loudly. “I should never have spoken to you that way, especially in your own home” you continued on, mentally kicking yourself. 

This was so humiliating. Robert chuckled and shook his head as he straightened out his papers. 

“My wife put you up to this, didn’t she?” he questioned with a click of his tongue as he stood up. He wandered around the desk and leant on it, you nodded, his eyes ran up and down your body slowly. “But are you sorry? For humiliating me in my own home?” He challenged. 

Your eyes widened with irritation. Breathe… It was hardly humiliating, no one else was even in the room. Robert was the one that stormed out like a child anyways. Oh, your father had warned you of your bullheadedness. This was not the right time and place to act as such. 

“I am” you nodded. 

“Are you now?” Robert hummed as he stepped closer to you. 

It felt snakelike, the way he was slithering towards you. This ball of anxiety grew in your chest, that look in his eyes felt unhinged even though he remained to tame. You didn’t even notice yourself stepping back towards the large bookshelves. A gasp left your lips as you pressed up against the hardwood, his hands rested on either side of your head. His tongue rolled over his lips as his breathing slowly grew heavier. 

“Mr Fischer” you gulped. 

“Mhm, it is I” he grinned. 

His hand caressed your face gently. It was a rare occasion that he could look you in the eyes so up close, he always admired the way your compelling eye color matched your soft skin tone. It was when his thumb pressed onto your lower lip that you felt your throat go dry. The naiveness disappeared from your body, you knew his intentions clearly. 

The secret was, Robert Fischer always desired your hand in marriage. When he saw you for the first time, he couldn’t help but to finally smile and feel a wave of satisfaction course through him. Finally, his father had done something not out of spite. But when it was declared that you were not Franseca, his heart fell and anger blazed once more. 

He wanted you, even tried to convince his father. But no, you weren’t the first born. You were stubborn, very strong minded for a woman, Robert desired the challenge to break you. Robert was condemned to a loveless marriage with the punishment of adoring you from a close afar. 

It was immediately expected for an heir to be born, but every time she bled brought shame on his status not hers. When his father gracefully passed shortly after, he couldn’t live by his commands any longer. Robert longed for you day and night, and began to form a plan to bring your souls together with minimal catastrophes. 

But with you here now in this gown for only his eyes, mouth and well… you know what. He simply could not wait any longer, he needed you now. Your sister Francesa was hideous in his eyes, you’d never know why. He could hardly get erect in her presence. But you, oh you were the forbidden fruit he had no guilt in demolishing. 

“Your sister is dying, that much is obvious” Robert stated emotionlessly, you felt a stab to your heart. “I’ll desire a new wife and you seem rather fitting” Robert lifted the right corner of his mouth to reveal his sharp teeth. In a state of panic, your lips wobbled and he predicted your next action. “Don’t you dare scream in my home” Robert grunted as one hand clamped over your mouth and the other pushed your chest back. 

“Rob-Robert” you grumbled out through the gaps of his fingers.

“Robert?” he furrowed. 

“Mr Fischer” you quickly corrected yourself through a wobbly tone, eyes swollen with tears ready to hydrate your flustering cheeks. . 

“Your sister is my burden of life, she could not even bear me an heir. Damn your father for cursing me with her! And damn mine for allowing it!” Robert raised his voice. 

The repented anger coursed through him once more. He slammed his hand on the shelf, you squeaked out and shoulders raised. Robert’s heavy breathing went muffled on your blocked ears as you tried to make sense of the situation. 

“Mr. Fischer please! She is sweet, nurturing, thoughtful!” you pleaded. 

The room drew silent momentarily. 

“Well, you better hope that she passed on those to you” Robert huffed.

Abruptly, he kissed you passionately, his tongue slithered into your hot mouth as you grumbled against him. His hands roughly scrunched up your dress and squeezed your hips, the bookshelves dug against your posterior chain. The sounds that came from his mouth sounded like a starved animal desperate to devour his prey. As badly as you wanted to fight him off, your body went into a standby state, you trembled and muscles turned stiff. When his hand rubbed over your panties, you gasped out in fear, breaking your connection.

“Please! Don’t take my innocence away!” you sobbed quietly, too fearful to raise your voice. 

Even though your parents told you little about intercourse, it was drilled into your mind that it was forbidden, a dangerous sin to engage in these pleasurable events premarital. Being touched and kissed was already filthy enough. If society found out, you’ll be an outcast. If Robert deflowered you, you would certainly never marry and be known as a whore.  

“Shhhhh, I see the way you stare at me, even when you think I am not watching” he smirked sinisterly, speaking in hushed tones. 

His digits found their way into your warmth, you shrieked out but he was quick to clamp his hand over your mouth again. Robert grunted out, his fingers sucked into your warm cunt, they wickedly curled inside of you, earning a long deep moan from you. Your thighs shook like leaves in the wind, eyes pleaded for mercy but his lips latched onto the skin of your neck. Robert moaned out in pure desire, his teeth tugged at your flesh.  

“It should have been you, I know you think it too. I will ensure that our future combines as one” Robert determined with a quick nod, his hand slipped down from your mouth.

“Mhmm ahhh, please stop sir, it hurts” you begged. 

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt a small bubble of bliss seem to grow inside of your core. Suddenly, your arms latched around him for support, his jaw hung low as he watched you try to deny the pleasure. You were balling your eyes out as you tried to stay quiet, the lights flickered over his crazed expression. 

“It eases eventually, stay quiet for me my dearest, let’s not awaken your sister” Robert soothed cruelly as he pushed his fingers completely inside of your clenching walls. You bit onto your lower lip until you drew blood. 

“Robert, please. Have the doctor see her again, tend her back to good health!” you panted out, crying out for mercy for your poor sister. 

Robert exhaled and drew back his coated fingers. Stepping back slightly, you watched in fear as he untied his pants and allowed the fabric to his knees. You gasped, your face cringed as you looked down to his throbbing member being stroked by his hand. 

“But my dearest, don’t you understand?” Robert tilted his head at you. His body pressed up against yours, you felt his member poke against your thigh. “We need her to die so we can marry” he chuckled darkly into your ear.

[oldsoul007]

hope you like scary movies, cus you’re in one

a/n: I may or may not saw an edit…

ghostface!nicholas x reader

It was a quiet night in woodsboro , like it always is. I was a nanny for a little boy so I could get through college. My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, and I glanced at the screen. Unknown Caller. I pressed declined but it repeatedly kept calling. Then the landline they had started ringing. I hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Hello?" I said, my voice cautious.

"Hello, y/n," a distorted voice replied. It sent a chill down my spine. "Do you like scary movies?"

I recognized the voice immediately. It was Ghostface, the infamous killer that terrorize my dad in 1996. But something felt off. There was a familiarity in the tone, beneath the distortion.

"Who is this? You’re not funny” Y/n asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Guess," the voice taunted. "Or maybe I'll just have to come find you."

My heart raced, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew this person. She thought about Nicholas and how he always played pranks on her. Could it be him?

"Alright, Nicholas," I said, calling his bluff. "Cut it out. I know it's you."

There was a brief silence on the other end before the voice changed, becoming softer and unmistakably Nicholas.

"You got me," he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I couldn't resist. I've been watching too many horror movies lately."

I let out a relieved laugh. "You really had me going there for a second. But seriously, you need to stop watching those movies."

Nicholas chuckled. "I know, I know. But hey, it got you to pick up the phone, didn't it?"

I shook my head, smiling. "Yeah, it did. But next time, maybe just send a text?"

"Deal," Nicholas agreed, his tone warm. As I hung up, I couldn't help but feel a mix of exasperation and affection for Nicholas. Even when he was being mischievous, he had a way of making me smile.

I had been feeling uneasy for days. I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me. It started with strange noises outside my window at night and escalated to finding eerie notes left in places only I would notice. The notes were signed by "Ghostface," and they sent chills down my spine.

One evening, as I was walking home from work, I heard footsteps behind me. I quickened my pace, but the footsteps matched mine, growing closer with each step. I turned a corner and ducked into an alley, hoping to lose my pursuer. But as I looked back, I saw the unmistakable mask of Ghostface looming in the shadows.

My heart raced as I tried to find a way out. Suddenly, Ghostface lunged at me, pinning her against the wall. "Why are you doing this?" I cried, her voice trembling with fear.

The masked figure was silent for a moment before reaching up to remove the mask. To my shock, it was Nicholas, my boyfriend, standing there with a sheepish grin on his face.

"Nicholas? What the hell?" My fear quickly turned to anger. "You scared me half to death!"

Nicholas looked genuinely apologetic. "I didn't mean to frighten you that much. I thought it would be a fun Halloween prank. I guess I went too far."

My anger softened slightly as I saw the remorse in his eyes. "You think?" I said, still shaken. "You could have just told me you wanted to scare me a little, not make me think I was being stalked by a killer."

Nicholas sighed. "I'm really sorry, y/n. I just wanted to do something different, but I realize now it was a terrible idea. Can you forgive me?"

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "Just promise me you'll never do something like this again."

"I promise," Nicholas said, pulling me into a hug. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."

As we walked home together, I couldn't help but feel relieved that the nightmare was over. But I also realized that Nicholas had a lot to learn about what constituted a "fun" prank.

“I don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with ghostface” “babe it’s Halloween losen up!” He said as we walked hand in hand.

I had always felt a chill in the air around Halloween, but this year, it was different. I had my boyfriend, nicholas. He was charming, funny, and had a smile that could light up the darkest night. Everyone loved him. But there was something about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

One evening, me and nick decided to attend the town's annual Halloween party. The old mansion where the party was held was decked out in spooky decorations, with cobwebs, eerie lighting, and ghostly figures lurking in the corners. Everyone was in costume, and I had chosen to go as a ____.

As I mingled with friends, I couldn't help but notice that Nicholas was nowhere to be seen. I asked around, but no one seemed to know where he was. Just as I was about to give up, I was walking by the stairs when I heard someone yelling.

I try not to be nosey but go up the stairs anyone. Maybe nick was up here anyway. I walked through the house looking in the rooms finding nothing. When I open the door i see some kid in a ghost face costume hop out the window. “What the fuck” I say under my breath. I pull out my phone to text him. No service?

I heard commotion downstairs so I ran down to see what’s happening. Everyone was gone from the house. I heard a floorboard squeak behind me.

It was Ghostface, and my heart raced. The figure moved silently through the room, its eyes fixed on me. I felt a shiver run down my spine as Ghostface approached, stopping just inches away from me.

"Y/n," a familiar voice whispered from behind the mask. My eyes widened in shock as Ghostface removed the mask to reveal Nicholas's face. He smiled, but it wasn't the warm, friendly smile I was used to. It was cold and sinister.

"I've been watching you," Nicholas said, his voice low and menacing. "You have no idea who I really am."

I took a step back, my mind racing. The pieces started to fall into place—the strange disappearances, the eerie feeling I got around him, the way he always seemed to know too much. I realized with a sinking feeling that my new boyfriend was none other than the real Ghostface.

Before I could react, Nicholas lunged at me, but I was quick. I grabbed a nearby candlestick and swung it at him, knocking him off balance. I ran through the mansion, my heart pounding in my chest, desperately searching for a way out.

As I reached the front door, I could hear Nicholas's footsteps behind me. I flung the door open and ran into the night, vowing never to trust anyone so easily again. But before I could even get out of the door he grabbed my arm pulling me back in. I try fighting him off but he grabs both of my wrist. “I’m not gonna hurt you y/n!” “Why, why did you do this?!” I yell looking him in the eyes. “What even is a motive?”

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Mate Chapter 12

Warnings: An angsty Minho

Warmth and trust enveloped Y/N's body as she woke up next to Chan. His naked body flush against hers while his strong arm wraps around her waist. Y/N looked at Chan's sleeping form and noticed the way his face was scrunched. Even in his sleep, he was fretting about so many things and none of them she knew. The only thing she understood so far from Jisung was Chan had a lot of shares in companies and ran small businesses. On top of that Chan was trying to prevent Hongjoong from looking here. Y/N knew there was a rivalry but neither Hongjoong or Chan told her. Y/N wanted to know more about his troubles but decided he would tell her when he was ready. Y/N decided she wanted to bring breakfast up for Chan when he caught her slipping away. "Shh. I'm going to get you breakfast." Y/N cooed as she pushed the alpha down. "No can do, little wolf. I promised to train Jeongin today and take him hunting. And then I have to have a meeting with the council along with some other things." Chan said sleepily as he looked around the room to collect his thoughts before looking back at his disappointed omega. "Little wolf you can't spend all the time in the world with me, as much as I enjoy having you by my side, you are the other wolves mate too. Why don't you spend some time with the beta's today." Chan reasoned. "How do you want me to spend time with them?" Y/N asked nervously as Hongjoong normally got her to have sex with them to keep them happy. She never actually spent time with them, only the omegas who she shared a room with.

Chan sat up, his brows furrowed in confusion at her words. "Talk with them. Sit with them. Do not do anything you don't want to do. Just have fun is all I ask. They are not like Hongjoong's betas. If you want to kiss them, go ahead. If you want them to touch you, that's okay. If they want to touch you and you don't want that tell them no." Chan assured as he put her mind at ease. "How is Hyunjin?" Y/N asked awkwardly. "He's chained to the bed. He's not in a good way. You did a number on him." Chan stated. "Why have you chained him to the bed? Have you hurt him?" Y/N asked worriedly, guilt radiating through her body. "No omega I have not. If I didn't you might not be in one piece." Chan stated coldly but Y/N sensed there was more to it, but she didn't want to challenge him. Instead, Y/N headed into the kitchen to greet a quiet Minho who didn't even acknowledge her. Y/N wondered if he regretted comforting her last night. "Minho ah. Have I done something?" Y/N blurted out, causing the beta to look at her. "No," Minho answered before turning back to his cooking. "Hello." Jisung sang as he came into the kitchen only to be silenced by Minho's glare. "How is my favourite wolf?" "Fine," Y/N answered. "Good, come join me and Changbin outside." Jisung gave her a slight look as he dragged her outside by the parked cars where Felix, Seungmin and Changbin were. Changbin beckoned Y/N into the car with the others. "So you're probably wondering why you are here?" Changbin stated seriously. "Shut up and get on with it Changbin," Seungmin grumbled. "Kids listen," Changbin stated, silencing them all. "It is a very important day tomorrow. It is Minho hyungs birthday! Now Minho thinks we have all forgotten because normally we plan to go out and do something but we can't in case Hongjoong finds Y/N so we are celebrating at home but he cannot know what we are planning. So, we need to get our lovely beta to run around and do chores while we set the house up." "Alright, me and Jeongin can take him into the city to get things," Seungmin stated. "Good, we need to make sure he doesn't suspect a thing. Chan did warn if we push him too far we are all being punished as Minho Hyung is sensitive at the moment." Changbin warned. "What about Hyunjin?" Felix asked. "He will be there to celebrate. I checked on him this morning he's getting better, but man he stinks." Jisung stated. "Now little wolf your job is to help Felix cook up some party food while me and Chan set up the house with Hyunjin. Are we all happy? Good," Changbin explained before getting out of the car.

Y/N felt really sad because Minho was sad. Y/N didn't even know it was his birthday and she had nothing to give him. She didn't even know how to make Minho happy. "Don't be sad Y/N, if you want to make Minho happy you can, as long as you don't tell him about the surprise," Felix whispered as he leaned over to the front seat. "I don't even know how. He seemed so sad today." Y/N admitted. "Minho Hyung doesn't really like to express his feelings when he is unhappy, but what Minho does appreciate is if you recognise them without making a fuss. Minho isn't overly affectionate but appreciates it when you offer." Felix promised as he left the car, leaving Y/N alone with Jisung and Seungmin who were sat on their phones planning Minho's surprise, when Y/N had a thought. Y/N was going to see if Minho needed any help today in hopes it would cheer him up, but when she reached the kitchen he was angrily washing up. Slamming the cup into the sink with a huff. It bothered Y/N and she felt it was cruel that that they were treating him that way so Y/N walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, making him jump. "Yah!" Minho jolted and dropped the cup that was in his hand into the sink as he felt her small arms wrap around his waist, her head pressed into his back. "What are you doing?" "Nothing," Y/N whispered, placing a bold kiss on his neck before moving away to collect the plates. She noticed the tops of his ears started to go red at her actions. "Yah, what are you doing?" Minho shouted. His voice showed a hint of irritation but his face held nervousness. "Helping my beta because I wanted to spend time with you. I didn't have to help." Y/N grumbled as she slammed the plates on the side, giving him a look. Minho looked back at the sink a guilty look boiling in his stomach as he watched you leave. He wanted to say something but he couldn't do it. What he didn't expect was you to come back with a towel to help him dry up. A warm fuzzy feeling started to embark in his stomach at the thought of you spending time with him. "Minho?" Y/N whispered as she looked at the beta who hummed at her. "Minho?" Y/N called out again causing him to look up at her in confusion. As soon as he looked up at her she planted a kiss on his soft lips. Before Y/N could pull away Minho grabbed her neck pushing her closer. He was gentle, almost unsure of what to do. "Your neck is tight go and see Seungmin to fix it," Minho stated, his voice turning cold as he faced his back to her. Did I push him too far? "Ya come here," Seungmin demanded from the other room.

Seungmin threw a cushion on the floor in front of him and beckoned her forward with the living room blanket in his hand. "Take your top off and wrap this around you," Seungmin ordered. Y/N awkwardly took off her t-shirt and wrapped the blanket around her and under her arms so he had access to her shoulders. Seungmin carefully touched her shoulders pressing different points until he found the muscle knots. Seungmin hadn't expected her to have so many that he kind of needed Hyunjin to push some of them out as he wasn't sure how to push the ones out by her jaw. "If it hurts tell me," Seungmin whispered as he carefully rubbed her neck to her ear trying to push them out without too much force. "Ah. Ah. Ah." Y/N yelped. "Shh, it's nearly out," Seungmin whispered as he slid his hand across her neck. "All done. Some of them like this one need Hyunjin because I don't want to make it worse." "Thank you Seungmin-ah." Y/N tilted her head back slightly to thank him. Seungmin smiled angelically and grabbed her head in his hands to push it up. His hands slowly played with her hair, occasionally pulling it while he massaged her head. "Minho does appreciate your kiss. You just made him nervous." Seungmin whispered in her ear. "If you keep teasing him, you'll make him snap." Seungmins words were a warning, but you were never one to listen to warnings.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #31

31. Free For All - Voyeurism (Logan Howlett x Reader x Wade Wilson)

a/n: 1.4k words of pure porn to round off the season. this one goes out to @eupheme who, when asked what she wanted to see for my final Kinktober, said more of Logan watching. so I was happy to deliver 😌 Thank you to everyone who's been commenting, and reblogging! I love you all!

Logan has learned a lot since moving in with Wade.

He’s learned that he can live with other people, but maybe he shouldn’t. It’s a good day if he doesn’t dismember the merc to be honest, what with the way he runs his mouth all the damn time. (He wonders if this was something he really learned though, or something he picked up at the mansion which has become solidified after tripping over Wade’s abandoned suit one too many times).

But he’s also learned that he likes the sound of life around him, Althea making her coffee, the rumble of traffic outside, the neighbours’ chatter in the hallway. He’s learned he enjoys being touched. Oh, how he loves being touched. Wade’s hand on his bicep for just a beat too long to be friendly when the two of them are laughing about something, your hand brushing against his when he’s helping you with the dishes.

Touches, yeah. 

And he’s also learned that he likes to look.

His eyes will settle heavy on you and Wade when you kiss. He watches the way Wade will press a hand to the back of your head to keep you in place, the way your fingers will snake up his abdomen and come to rest on the mottled skin of your boyfriend’s chest. The way Wade’s tongue will slip into your mouth.

The way you smile while biting it.

And you both know he loves to watch the two of you, and you’ve both done nothing to discourage it. In fact, from the way he finds the two of you practically dry-humping on the couch every other day, you’re both enjoying it as much as he is. Is it the being observed that gets you off, or the fact that it’s him doing the watching? Logan thinks maybe both, from the way you’ll rub your ass up against Wade’s bulge and then, in tandem, the two of you will turn to look at him.

He’s probably getting too old for this shit. But he can’t stop. Doesn’t want to, honestly.

The night begins quietly, the three of you bundled up on the sofa to watch a movie. Something action-based, lots of explosions, women in tiny shorts and fast cars. At some point you moved yourself into Wade’s lap and started cuddling up together, and Logan can’t deny that he felt a pang of… something in his chest when the chasm on the sofa opened and he lost the closeness of other bodies to his.

But then you started rubbing Wade’s dick over his sweats and Logan’s attention was caught.

“Someone’s feeling frisky tonight, huh?” Wade mutters into your ear as you shift yourself to be chest-to-chest with him. You giggle and press your mouth to his, luxuriating in a long and passionate kiss. Logan feels blood pump through his body at a mile a minute. The film is forgotten about immediately. 

“Mmm, just wanna fuck you on the couch, baby,” you sigh against his lips, reaching out to catch one between your teeth and nibble at it. Wade moans in your mouth and the two of you look over to Logan.

“Oh, Logan won’t mind, will you, Lo?” you breathe. Logan feels his jeans get tighter as your voice makes him half-hard, the promise of a show.

A beat.

All he can do is grip his beer bottle and nod his consent.

“Do it,” he growls. You and Wade both grin and continue.

Wade’s hands come to the hem of your shirt and lift it up, and holy fuck you aren’t wearing a bra. Logan watches the way the mercenary starts sucking at your nipples, bringing one and then the other between his lips, cementing the nickname of Mouth. He moans around the soft skin of your breast in a way which has you bucking up into him.

“Fuck, baby, did you do this on purpose? Not wear anything under your shirt because you wanted to show off for our Peanut, here?”

The giggle you let out is all the answer that’s needed, and suddenly Logan is aware that he’s rocking into the meat of his own palm. The friction of the denim is just rough enough to get him a little harder, keep him teased. Wade cocks his head.

“So if I reached down here…”

His hand dips below the belt of your jeans and he groans.

“No panties? Baby, you’re killing me here…”

“Can’t blame me for wanting ease of access. Took all my strength not to wear a skirt and bend over all evening. A preshow, I guess,” you hum, as Logan watches the way Wade works his fingers in and out of you beneath your pants. When the merc pulls back to inspect, they’re covered to the knuckle in slick.

In an act he isn’t expecting, Wade holds them out to Logan.

“Want a taste of her?”

Logan stops fucking up into his own hand for a moment, so shocked by the blatant filth of it… but when he sees the way the two of you look at him, with twinned wide-eyed expressions of hope and pure lust…

He opens his mouth and licks Wade’s fingers clean. As he does, he hears you both mutter a ‘fu-uu-uck’. 

“I didn’t say stop,” says Logan, pulling away and nodding at you. Wade scrambles to undo your jeans and you’re all too eager to help, sitting naked in his lap within seconds. Logan takes a beat to admire the shape of your body, pretty thing, especially the warm wet cunt between your legs that Wade is currently circling with those drenched fingers.

“Seeing as honey badger got me nice and ready for you…” he sighs, pressing them inside your hole. You gasp and drop your forehead to Wade’s shoulder, allowing him to fuck you with his hand for a moment, the noise loud and obscene in a total betrayal of how wet you are. Damn, you’re just as filthy as Wade. Logan opens his mouth to verbalise this but only lets out a moan as you slip Wade from his sweats.

Wade’s cock is about what he imagined, though he’d never confess to imagining it at all. Curved, decently thick, bobbing against his stomach in eagerness as you spit on it from above. You jerk him off for a couple of strokes before pressing his head up against your soaked cunt. You’ve left wet patches on his sweats, staining light grey dark with your arousal. Proof that this is happening.

Logan is ravenous as he undoes his fly and takes his cock into his hand properly, starting to rock into the calloused grip of his fingers as you sink down on Wade. All three of you groan in pleasure, and Logan cannot rip his eyes away from how you begin to ride. Your hips move in erratic, hurried movements, your cunt taking Wade to the tip and then all the way back inside over and over, a practised and hypnotic motion. Logan only distracts you briefly, holding out his upturned palm.

“Spit, sweetheart,” he breathes, ragged. When you catch on you’re all too happy to do what he asks, dripping saliva onto his hand - but more importantly so is Wade, who winks as he spits at the same time you do. Logan growls but not with irritation but pure adrenaline, wrapping his newly lubricated hand around his dripping cock and fucking himself for dear life, the speed of his strokes matching yours on Wade. Dripping with a cocktail of you both.

“Oh baby, fuck, I’m gonna…” you breathe. Wade digs his fingers so hard into the flesh of your ass it’ll leave marks.

“Fuck, yeah. Absolutely. Come on my cock and make me never be able to look at this sofa without popping a boner again… but do it while looking at Logan over there, okay?”

You and Wade drag your eyes away from each other to let them settle on Logan. It’s too much. He feels his orgasm ripping through him and Logan comes in white jets all over his hand, a bitten-off roar escaping straight from his chest. From the noises at the other end of the couch, the two of you aren’t far behind either.

And then for a moment, there’s silence.

“Happy Halloween,” Wade murmurs, dropping a kiss to your collarbone while his cum drips out of your cunt. This draws out a giggle from you.

“Mm. Wanna go again?” you ask, eyes darting between the two men on the couch. Logan feels himself twitch again and knows he’s in for a long evening.

[annie-creates]

Halloween night tradition

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 700

Note: I refuse to aknowledge anything after the fourth episode. This is a Halloween gift to you and especially everyone who is as deeply hurt and disappointed in the show's ending as I am.

The evening was growing closer as the sky darkened, first shining stars visible through the reddish clouds of the setting sun. Your wife was not yet back from her errands, something you warned her would happen, yet she didn’t take your advice into consideration. That’s after all how you got yourself into the argument this very morning. You wanted her to stay home today to help you with all the chores, but she was adamant on going out and doing god knows what, even when she saw how many tasks you had on your hands for the day.

As you dry your hands from the sink water after cleaning all the dishes, you go out into the garden to take down the fourth dried load of clothes you washed today. You can’t help but think it’s kind of selfish of Agatha to leave you here all alone to deal with all the work yourself while she run around enjoying her magic and wreaking havoc, or whatever she was doing right now. She comes through the front door just as you’re taking the heavy basket full of clothes to be folded inside, signing heavily as you stretch your overworked back. You slump into the sofa, getting the first break in the whole day, Agatha clearly much cheerier in her mood than yourself.

“Hey,” she calls to you sitting on the other side of the couch.

“Hi,” you scoff, your tone annoyed with her cheerfulness.

“Oh come on baby, what got you so pressed?” she tuts at you, not getting the hint you’re still angry with her.

“I don’t know, maybe my wife leaving me here all day alone to do all the house chores while she enjoys her day outside not even considering me?” you contemplate. “No, it couldn’t be that, no loving wife would do that.”

“Come on now, you can’t seriously still be mad at me?” she chuckles a little, now seeing the hurt in your eyes.

“I am. You left me to deal with everything and you have the audacity to…” you’re cut off by Agatha cupping your face in her hands.

“Baby I’m so sorry I didn’t help you today, but I’ve got something that will make it all worth it, I promise,” she tempts you.

“I seriously doubt that…” you stubbornly fold your hands over your chest but follow her outside none the less, curiosity taking the better of you.

“Look what I’ve got!” Agatha shows you two old tree branches of a decent size. “It’s broomsticks! For our Halloween night flight!” She clarifies noticing your confused expression.

“What’s wrong with the ones we already have..?” you shake your head.

“Come on love, you deserve something brand new, the best,” she persuades you.

“Okay, fine,” you playfully roll your eyes, slowly forgetting you were mad at her.

As you perform the ritual together, giving your makeshift brooms to each other in an act of selflessness, you can’t really be annoyed with her for long. Taking of the ground as the night falls, hidden by the clouds of darkness, you realize she probably got new brooms just to have a chance to perform the ritual with you again and it unexplainably warms your heart. It was true this was your Halloween tradition and even when your wife wasn’t perfect in many ways, she never forgot any of the little things that made you happy. Watching her eyes sparkle under the light of stars you swum in, there was no one who could ever compare to her and you felt your love for her pouring over your edges like the brightest star.

“I love you,” you exclaim flying closer to her, your shoulders almost touching.

“Well I’d hope so we’ve been married for seven years,” she playfully nips but you can see the reciprocated love in her eyes. “I love you too.”

Leaning over a little to give her a sweet kiss you feel her soft lips on yours, her adoration for you noticeable in everything she does. You both had your mistakes but there was no one who could understand them better than the woman right next to you. And she loved you over every single one.

[criminally-chill]

In good hands

Chapter 2: The First Game

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Category: Fluff

——————————

Emily stepped into the arcade, scanning the bustling, neon-lit space until her eyes landed on Y/N by the air hockey tables. She felt a thrill of excitement at seeing her there, looking so effortlessly confident in jeans and a worn T-shirt, tattoos peeking out beneath rolled-up sleeves. There was something magnetic about Y/N’s easy stance and warm smile, and Emily found herself grinning as she walked over.

Y/N spotted her and leaned off the air hockey table, smirking. “Agent Prentiss,” she said in a teasing tone. “You ready to lose?”

Emily raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Lose? You’re clearly underestimating me, Dr. L/N.”

Y/N chuckled, sliding a paddle across to her. “Alright, big shot. Show me what you’ve got.”

They started the game, and right away, Emily noticed Y/N’s sharp reflexes and the competitive spark in her eyes. The doctor wasn’t giving her any easy points, and it only made Emily more determined. They went back and forth, Emily scoring one point, then Y/N hitting two back in quick succession.

“Oh, come on,” Emily laughed as Y/N blocked her shot with an almost theatrical flair. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Oh, definitely,” Y/N replied, grinning as she tapped the puck back across the table. “But hey, it’s not my fault you thought you’d have an easy win.”

The game was close, but Y/N ultimately won, her triumphant laugh filling the air. “Victory!” she declared, raising her paddle in mock celebration.

Emily shook her head, trying not to laugh. “Beginner’s luck,” she teased. “Let’s see if you can handle a real challenge. Skee-Ball?”

Y/N accepted the challenge eagerly, and they moved on, their laughter and lighthearted banter growing with each game. When it was Emily’s turn, Y/N took the chance to poke fun, gesturing exaggeratedly with her hands. “Easy there, Prentiss. It’s all in the wrist.”

Emily rolled her eyes, tossing the ball with a flourish that landed perfectly in the top-scoring ring. “See that? All in the wrist,” she mimicked, her smirk wide.

Y/N chuckled, pretending to concede as she lined up her shot. “Alright, alright. Guess you’ve got some skills.”

As they played through the rounds, Emily noticed how easily they fell into rhythm with each other. The competition, the laughter, and the small, subtle touches made her feel like she’d known Y/N far longer than just a couple of encounters.

After a while, they wandered over to the claw machine, and Y/N’s expression turned mischievous. “Care to try your luck?” she asked, nodding toward the stuffed animals inside. “Or do you think the legendary Agent Prentiss might need a hand?”

Emily gave her a playful shove. “Oh, I could do it… but I think I’ll let you prove your skills this time.”

Y/N grinned, taking up the challenge. She dropped a quarter into the machine and focused on maneuvering the claw with surprising care. “Alright, I’ll win you a prize. But no promises on the quality,” she said, eyes glinting.

As the claw lowered, Emily found herself caught between amusement and genuine hope that Y/N might actually pull it off. With one last nudge, the claw grabbed hold of a small, neon-colored dinosaur and lifted it with surprising precision.

“Oh, I don’t believe it,” Emily said, watching as Y/N deftly maneuvered the claw over to the prize chute. The dinosaur tumbled down, and Y/N reached in, retrieving it with a grin.

She turned to Emily, holding out the little plush dinosaur with a warm smile. “For you, Agent Prentiss,” she said, her tone a mix of playfulness and sincerity. “To commemorate your bravery on the air hockey battlefield.”

Emily laughed, but there was a hint of warmth in her eyes as she took the toy. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. You’re more than just a trauma surgeon with a quick wit.”

Y/N shrugged modestly. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”

They shared a laugh, lingering close as they headed outside into the cool night air, leaving the neon glow of the arcade behind. Emily looked down at the little dinosaur Y/N had won her, a feeling of rare lightness settling over her.

They stopped by the doorway, and Y/N turned to face her, her expression softening. “Thanks for tonight, Emily. I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in… well, a long time.”

Emily met her gaze, warmth spreading through her chest. “Me neither,” she admitted. “It’s been… surprisingly fun.”

For a moment, they just stood there, the quiet between them carrying an unspoken invitation. Then, Y/N took a step closer, her hand brushing Emily’s lightly, almost as if testing the waters. Emily didn’t pull back; instead, she found herself leaning in, her pulse quickening as Y/N’s face came close.

In the soft glow of the streetlights, Y/N closed the distance, pressing a gentle, tentative kiss to Emily’s lips. It was warm and sweet, a promise held in the quiet connection between them. Emily felt herself melt into it, her hand resting lightly on Y/N’s arm as the kiss deepened just slightly, filled with unspoken hopes and possibilities.

When they finally pulled back, both of them a little breathless, Y/N’s smile softened, her eyes shining. “I’d say that was a pretty good ending to our first date, wouldn’t you?”

Emily laughed softly, feeling the warmth of Y/N’s hand lingering on her own. “Yeah,” she replied, her voice filled with rare warmth. “I’d say it was perfect.”

As they said their goodbyes, Emily clutched the little dinosaur to her chest, watching as Y/N walked away with a last, lingering smile. The night felt full of promise, and for the first time in a long time, Emily felt like she had something real to look forward to.

[megglesthegeek]

🎃 Trick or treat! 🎃

TREATS! Have a Loki taking a break from trying to get the loom to not explode and taking a moment with Mobius.

____

There really was only so many times Loki could keep going through this without feeling a little insane. That was the definition of insanity, wasn’t it? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? He’d been at this for centuries. Get Timely out there sooner, and faster, and explain the process in rapid-fire talk before he gets out there, instructing him as he went. Every time, without fail, there were just strings of nothing left of the man, and Loki would go back and do it all over again.

He was exhausted. He just needed a moment to not have to deal with the Loom or the inevitable failure that would lead to it exploding and destroying everything.

So during this run, as O.B. began to explain to Timely how the multiplier needed to be deployed, Loki turned and slowly made his way over to Mobius.

With every step toward the analyst, he drank him in. Took in every bit of the man that Loki had come to care for so deeply. Mobius glanced up, quick at first, too focused on the loom to give Loki too much attention. But when Loki stopped right beside him, he looked up and frowned.

“What?” He asked as panic started to ripple through the others, Timely likely having disintegrated by now.

With a sigh, Loki reached out and took Mobius’s hand, clasping it in his own while all the things he wanted to say lingered on the tip of his tongue. Outside, things brightened, the loom about to melt down at any moment.

Mobius searched Loki’s face, for what the god didn’t know. But he must have found what he was looking for because Mobius turned to fully face Loki, stepping closer as he adjusted their handhold.

Loki bent his head, pressing his forehead to Mobius’s, staring him in the eye as the room shook and panic officially took hold of their friends.

After a few seconds, a sad smile pulled on Mobius’s lips as he quietly said, “I can’t think of a better way to go.”

“I can,” Loki replied but could already feel the molecular structure around them slipping away. In a moment, Mobius would be gone, and Loki would time slip back to the beginning. “And I promise, when this is over, I’ll show you.”

Mobius chuckled wetly, eyes starting to fill with tears.

“It’s already over.”

“Not yet,” Loki promised before Mobius slipped through his fingers once again.

[osleeplessflowero]

I've only written about him once..let's fix that with a short oneshot. ;)

{ Notes! } * Reader's Gender Neutral! * Personal interpretation of him, might not be too accurate, considering it's more of an original take on the Reapertale story :) * Might do more with this concept soon * Happy (Early) Halloween! 🎃

💜Oneshot Masterpost💙

Contains: Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Death, Chase Sequence

Facing Death

First Meeting

Wind blows harshly through the cold night air. Another tragedy had struck, the God of Death having claimed yet another soul in the ongoing massacre. The Goddess of Life had been slain, and so children were unable to be born. The amount of deaths had raised tenfold, the civilians of your town growing fearful that they too may meet the Reaper's blade next.

Rain pours down outside and washes away fresh bloodstains as you run through an empty street, struggling to avoid being blown away and holding up the hood of your cloak to stay dry. Coming to a stop outside of an abandoned building, you quickly head inside and close the doors with a huff.

"God, that was a pain to get through..at least I can take shelter here." You grab some matches from your pocket, using one to light a candle that had been left close by. You begin lighting various candles as you pass, illuminating the darkness. Upon closer inspection, you realize you've entered some sort of place of worship.. a shrine. However, as to who the shrine is for..you haven't the slightest idea.

Making your way down a hallway filled with cobwebs, you make sure to dodge them to not disturb the peace of the spiders. Especially if they are spider monsters.. It seems this space hasn't been touched in a long time. Which makes sense, considering so many have strayed away from shrines and moved their worship to other spaces.

A faint "psst" from behind you stops you in your tracks, causing you to abruptly turn and search for the source. A whoosh can be heard in another direction, causing you to turn again.

"..Who's there?" You furrow your brows, pulling the hood of your cloak down. "I didn't mean to trespass, I swear. I just needed shelter from the rain for the time being."

"y'know.. it's not a very smart idea to go into a dark, abandoned shrine. you ever read horror stories before?" A voice calls out to you from the shadows, a ghostly sound you can't seem to locate the source of.

"..It's only temporary." You pick up one of the candles you'd lit, holding it close as you begin trying to make your way back out. The flame goes out abruptly, startling you. You quickly grab a match to light it again, picking up your speed before it's blown out yet again. A chuckle resonates through the room, leaving you looking around the room in a panic. You quickly light it again, reaching forward to find the door knob and get the hell out of here. And once again..it's blown out.

You strike the match desperately, struggling a bit before finally getting it to light. And once you do..you're met with a floating skeleton, his sinister cheshire-like grin stretching across his face as he leans on his notorious scythe beside you. You quickly fall back, scooting across the floor to get away from him.

"been a hot minute since a mortal's wandered into a godly shrine..thought you guys were pretty against that whole deal." He raises a browbone, the empty black voids he has for eyes staring at your trembling form.

"I don't want trouble, I promise- I-I'll get out of here, you don't have to do anything." You struggle to try and get up, the Reaper watching amusedly as you do. You hold your hands out defensively, before immediately pulling them back towards your body. ..He kills his victims by touching them..if you avoid being touched, you'll be fine. Just gotta get out.

"aren't you tired of living through all of this suffering? i can easily give you a solution for that." Continuing to lean on his scythe, he holds out his opposite hand towards you. Your heart beats a mile a minute as you stare at the God, trying to plan an escape route in your mind to avoid your imminent demise.

"I think I'd prefer to keep living, thanks- it's...kind of you to offer, but I would really like to live." You smile anxiously as he pulls his scythe up off the ground, floating slowly over to you. The empty black voids of his eyes stare back at you, his expression unreadable apart from that ever lasting grin of his.

You jolt, running off into a different direction to try and get away from the Reaper hunting you down. You won't die, not here! Not like this!

His chuckle resonates through the halls of the shrine as he chases you down, quickly floating after you as you open and slam doors that he ultimately ends up just phasing through. Your breathing picks up as you run, your body trembling as you search for any form of escape, even just a window to jump through.

The candle you're holding shakes in your grasp, the light flickering as it threatens to fade. You just need a little more time..!

You come to a dead end, hearing his haunting laughter from behind you. Turning back to face him, you back up towards a wall with widened eyes, holding up your candle so you can see.

"just hold still, and this will all be over.. you can join those you've lost in the afterlife. i'd say that's a much better outcome than living in this disgrace of a world." He looms over you, the light cast from your candle causing a massive shadow to appear behind him. A menacing sight.

"I don't want to die, please! Spare my life, I've done nothing wrong!"

"when it comes to death, that doesn't matter. it takes you no matter what, and almost never when you're ready for it.. just accept your fate. it's not like new life will be able to appear in this world anyway." He comes to a stop before you, holding up his scythe. Your eyes immediately lock onto it as he moves it towards you.

"Please, I just.." You squeeze your eyes shut, silent for a moment when you feel the blade of the scythe lift your chin. Your body trembles as you await death, but.. it never comes.

Pure silence fills the shrine. Even the rain outside seems to be muffled. You open your eyes, looking at the God before you. His grin is..completely absent. Replaced with what appears to be a look of shock. Growing frustrated, he moves the scythe aside and puts his hands on your shoulders. ..But nothing happens.

"..this isn't supposed to- ..why isn't it working?" He furrows his browbones, grimacing. Your eyes widen in realization as he continues trying, and your breathing calms.

...He can't kill you. His touch isn't working at all. But it's supposed to, he's literally the God of Death. He's death itself. And yet..you're alive.

"i don't understand, why? why is it that a mere mortal can resist my deadly touch? ..what's different about you?" He looks at your face, staring you down. Empty black voids meeting your eyes yet again.

"I-I don't know. But..I'm kinda..glad for that." You chuckle nervously, earning a scoff from the God. He pauses for a moment, hands still placed on your shoulders as he seems to process the situation.

"i don't know if she had something to do with this, but...i want answers." His grip tightens a bit, before he lets go of you. Adjusting his scythe a bit, he float-sits above it. "you are the only mortal i've ever encountered that i can't kill myself."

"..I can't say I know why, sir. One minute I think I'm gonna die, and the next I'm..here." You hold one of your arms as his eyesockets narrow, shrinking a bit under his intimidating gaze. A brief period passes before he reaches over to touch some overgrown vines on the wall beside him, watching as they wither and die.

"..so my powers are fine. it's just.. you, that's able to evade me. ..i can't say i'm not curious." His grin returns. You raise a brow, a bit confused as he floats back over to you, leaning down to be at face level.

"Uh..so, can I go now?" You furrow your brows with a smile, before hearing him chuckle more lightheartedly this time. You assume that's a No..

"...i have an idea." He rests a hand on his cheek, leaning into it. "..you have anywhere to go?"

"Huh? Oh, well, uh..I used to. But my old home was kinda..destroyed, during one of the riots a while back. As you can probably tell, people aren't too happy that you're killing everybody left and right." You cross your arms, earning a shrug from the Reaper.

"..so you don't." He raises a browbone. It's more of a statement than a question, earning a raised brow from you as well.

"Why?"

"well.. nobody's taken care of this 'ol shrine in years. and i can't say i'm not curious as to what's so different about you..so, here's an idea." He points at you, causing you to jolt as he pokes your collarbone. "i'll let you stay here at this shrine completely unharmed, if you agree to take care of it, as well as allow me to observe you. see what makes you tick, so to speak. what do you say? wouldn't you like a godly blessing?" He grins, watching as you think it over.

This guy just tried to kill you. He is the embodiment of death. The GOD of Death, responsible for all of the tragedies happening around you. He's a mischievous spirit, created to make balance so Life would not have too many souls. You are the only mortal being who has successfully managed to not only evade his magic, but to communicate with him, too. ..Maybe..you could help stop his ongoing rampage, and show him how valuable lives can truly be. Maybe you can show him a glimmer of light..in this world shrouded in darkness, and despair. ..Even if he's pretty unsettling..maybe this could work out in both your favor, and the rest of your world's.

"..Deal. I accept your offer, God of Death." You hold out your hand. His grin stretches a bit more as he grabs it, stiffening a bit since he's not quite used to contact like this again. Then, you both shake your hands.

"..pleasure doing business, mortal. oh, and please..call me sans."

[shallowrambles]

Adam had the power of an archangel inside of him

And then wanted to be Small

[aro-culture-is]

aro culture is getting really annoyed with the relationships unit in your sociology class because the whole thing is just 100% amatonormativity.

:\

if think your teacher, professor, and/or TAs might be interested in discussing the concept, I have some idea of bringing up the topic?

I'd personally say something like, "Hi, During our section in sociology around relationships, I couldn't help but think it would be interesting to discuss how a sociological theory called "amatonormativity" might relate to these lessons. I gathered a few sources from the professor who coined it, a thesis written on it, and a law review written about the connection between it and laws in the USA. There's some connections between its use in feminist thought and in queer theories, and I'd love to know your thoughts about it. I personally was thinking of when [specific statement] was said, and how I would apply this theory. I hope it's as interesting to you as it is to me."

Coiner's current webpage: https://elizabethbrake.com/amatonormativity/

Thesis: https://vc.bridgew.edu/honors_proj/330/ (click download in upper right hand corner for the PDF, depending on the individual it may be worth downloading and sending that rather than a link)

Law Review: https://uclawreview.org/2022/06/09/amatonormativity-in-the-law-an-introduction/

[badley]

i recommend. Personally. watching international court cases and being in a removed part of your brain fucking terrified and horrified while you try and remain focused on the facts in the front of your mind so that you can know what the fuck is going on. and then letting that stew to make a list of things you find suspicious or dubious. also recommend then watching a bunch of philosophy all night and going hm fair point and well no i don't think that's true. and then doing the writing three pages thing your good friend suggested to you. and knowing your own naivete intimately. and then i recommend grabbing the a3 newsprint block so that you may make some inconsequential art. which inevitably will help you think. and then i recommend writing again to find out what you think. happy monday guys

[ghosts-of-love]

not to be mentally ill but today when i went for a walk in a nature reserve i was climbing a hill and it was cold but so so sunny and everything looked beautiful and i saw so many cool things and i stood there and was like damn what's this feeling in my chest and why am i smiling so much?? my guy,, it's called fucking happiness. i was just present and content in the moment and couldn't contain myself so kept doing the silly arm shake thing i do and grinning at everything and then was like woah what's this feeling. fuckin, happiness dude.

[munadyke]

ok. sometimes I just want to listen to people talk abt star wars but the youtube results are all men and I refuse to do that to myself. found myself on a reddit thread of good sw youtube accounts/podcasts and it's like....for one dollar name a woman:/

[lurking-latinist]

.

[necronomeconomicism]

Ok gotta talk about it.

As a Jewish historian, I fucking hate Israel in ways most probably will never be able to comprehend. I'm going to try and explain it anyways. The central creation myth of Israel is that it is Jewish, and then consequently, that Israel is a part of Jewishness. Its easy to simply state this is false, but fully comprehending this and putting it into practice in thought and deed seems rare to me.

The evil at the heart of this violence predates the recent acceleration of genocide. Israel is a colony, and more than that, an antisemitic fraud itself. After WW2, when Israel was being founded, the Jews of Europe generally did not wave goodbye to their neighbors and head to the promised land. Many were expelled from their homes. Zionism itself, as an action, was a false choice at the time. A mere excuse to place an ally in the middle east, and an excuse to complete the expulsion and destruction of the European Jew. The Zionist Jew is more than complicit in this, they actively seek the destruction and assimilation of all other Jews.

Many fail to realize, and largely because of Israel, that Jews are not inherently white, Ashkenazi, European-descended people. Our faith and culture has an immense variety that is spread all across the globe. Jewishness, in population and volume of culture, exists more so outside of Israel than within it. Israel is for a very specific kind of Jew. The kind that lets Yiddish die, that attaches themselves to European things, that makes themselves and their practices as white as possible.

And they have the nerve, the fucking belligerent GALL, to frame themselves as the necessary saviors of our people. To the Zionist, questioning Israel is to question Jewishness itself. They bake adoration for the colonial machine into their very prayers, and push them on us even as children. To *not* oppress, to *not* kill, to *not* genocide, is to invite death. This is the core of fascistic thought, of course. "Kill them before they kill us." And they KNOW this too, they really do. The truth of that irony does not matter, because as is true for all fascists, the truth itself does not matter to them. They wanted this, they wanted this even before the British saw it in their best interest to give them the land. Any excuse to RETVRN, as the neo-nazis say of Rome, or the German Empire, or whatever the fuck stupid country they want to poorly animate the corpse of. Some select Zionists even *sided with the fucking Nazis* in agreement they should abandon Europe to colonize Palestine. (Haavara Agreement)

My people have proved time and time and time again you don't need a nation state to have an enduring culture. We have protected ourselves for thousands of years without the help of these spiteful, doom-saying maniacs. I was going to post something like this on Passover, but that would be hypocritical. The state of Israel doesn't actually have shit to do with Jewishness. Hear Israel (the state and supporters, Israel the icon) I should outlive it long enough to bury it. (old yiddish curse)

Free Palestine. Donate what you can, they need it right now.