#oh you always liked the idea of being worshipped adored and obeyed? well i would be delighted to get on my knees for you sir

[dragonagitator]

We REALLY need more fanfics that explore this side of Gale.

But, like, in a smutty way.

Please.

[quimichi]

do you still do twisted wonderland requests? if so can i request self aware dorm leaders being called "good boy"??

『 ↳✧･ﾟ CALLING THE DORM LEADERS YOUR GOOD BOY ;

Dorm Leaders x Creator!Reader

Riddle - Off with your head!

"Do you enjoy your tea?"

"Mm. The tea is most delicious, Yuu. " Riddle speaks with the utmost sincerity, his words sweet and grateful. Even though his tea cup has long been empty since he finished it, he holds it in his hand, his gaze fixed on it lovingly. He looks up at you, his head still bowed in worship, adoration. He smiles, his eyes warm and bright, all of his adoration and fondness directed towards you.

"Im glad my good boy likes his tea" you smile warmly at him before sipping at your own tea again. Riddle's smile widens, and he bows his head further.

Your good boy.

He looks up at you, his worship and fondness directed towards you, and he speaks, his voice soft and low.

"Thank you, Yuu. I adore you, you know?"

"I adore you, Riddle" his face flushes as he sits before you. He bows his head and lowers his gaze like he always does at your touch, but, with his skin now slightly red, he smiles softly to himself.

He shifts slightly. This feels so safe here.

"As long as you adore me, Your Grace… I am complete." At least one person treats him right in his life, unlike HIS MOTHER.

Leona - The king, huh…?

"Enjyoing your nap?" "Huh?" Leona glances around. He was indeed enjoying a peaceful nap before the sudden voice. Leona is often sleeping when you see him, but that is partly because he spends most of his time in your room. He sleeps there more than anywhere else.

He stretches, his limbs feeling heavy as he wakes up. He yawns, and nods his head as he responds. "Oh, yes. I was." "Did my good boy at least sleep well?"

"Yes," he says immediately, a flush spreading over his cheeks. He hates how much emotional control you had gained over him in the past month's. And damn you for calling him that…"I did."

He is embarrassed to admit that his night had been pleasant and pleasant dreams had come to visit him while he slept. His dreams are often full of your voice, your face, and sometimes even your touch.

These thoughts send his heart into overdrive in an instant. Fuck you for making him falling for you. You damn herbivore.

He is utterly enraptured by you. There's a strange glint in his eyes, an intensity that burns deep into his soul. Need, greed, want.

"Hm," he nods slowly, the only word he can manage before turning around in your bed and going back to sleep.

Azul - How poor and unfortunate you are

Azul's eyes flicker with uncertainty, but he would never hesitate to obey your instructions. Come closer to you…its simple, yet so hard. "Yes," he whispers, and he rises to come to you. His feet are swift and silent as he crosses the space separating you, his eyes ever vigilant for your every command.

"Sit with me" you said gentle. Despite whatever doubts Azul may have had moments before, they are quickly forgotten as soon as you command him to sit. Without another word, he lowers himself to sit beside you in obedience. His lips curve into a small smile as he gazes at you, happy to be near you.

Luckily Jade and Floyd aren't around, if they would, he already would've been teased into the ground.

"Youre my good boy aren't you Azul~?" with your hand on his cheek, your hot breath on his ear, who is he to say disagree. Once again, Azul flinches at your approval, but he can't disagree. "Of course, Yuu" he answers in a soft voice.

He smiles at you, and you can almost swear he's a child in his demeanor. He is utterly and completely devoted to you. Your approval is like the sun in the sky to him.

"I'm your good boy."

Kalim - Sing, dance!

"You seem tired" your soft voice lurrs him to you, he wants nothing more to lay in your arms now. "Yes," Kalim mumbles before trailing off. He blinks as if the idea hadn't occurred to him before. That party maybe was…a little to much

Yet, the moment the thought comes to him, it is the only feeling that consumes him; he is consumed with the weariness of his day.

Kalim's eyelids close, as if he has only now realized that he should have been sleeping this whole time, and he leans forward to rest his head on your lap.

"I… wish to sleep," he whispers, "with you…"

"My good boy can finally sleep now" At your command, kalims's eyes flutter closed, and he allows himself to settle into a much-needed sleep.

The only sound he emits from that point onward is a low, contented hum as he falls into the deep, peaceful slumber that you have granted him. After all his favorite pillows will always be your thighs. You wouldnt mind sitting there all night just for him to rest comfortably, although Jamil would lecture you both the next morning.

But Kalim couldn't care less, as he falls asleep with the lovliest words ever said to him echoing in his mind, good boy

Vil - Every rose has its thorn. But isn't that part of their charm?

"Rough day?" Of course he had a rough day, once again Neige seems to be better fkmor everyine else again. He didn't get the model job he so long waited for "Yes," Vil replies, gracefully dropping in front of his mirror. There is a tension to his tone, as if there is something he wants to say but cannot bring himself to admit. He looks up at you, his gaze sharp and piercing as if trying to gauge some kind of mood.

He gently removes his make up before he speaks again "I cannot… I mean…"

"I," Vil tries again. He bites his lip, and his gaze flicks back to his thighs. His fists are clenched, and he fights back the urge to punch something, anything, to let out the frustration.

His voice is barely above a whisper, but you can hear him. If only he could articulate what needs to be said. If only he did not choke on his words, as if something is caught in his throat.

"How long," he rasps, "until I'm worthy enough for everyone?"

You careful went over to him and hug his back while looking into his eyes trough the morror, "My good boy, youre more than enough for me.." Vil sighs, the sound of release escaping his lips. He can feel his chest loosen along with the tension that he'd been holding onto, and the anxiety that had been building up seems to melt away with the hug.

Nobody in this world is as perfect as you.

Idia - Dun-da-da-da-dun! Level up!

"Are you busy right now?" Idias eyes flick up from the computer screen, startled as he hears your voice. He doesn't dare to speak unless he is spoken to, he feels like if he'd start the conversation instead odf you it'll turn out horrible.

His expression is one filled with worry; worried that you find him inadequate, worried that he'll fail you. The weight of all his worries is starting to become too much for him to handle, and it shows on his face. "I uhm…was just fighting the last boss on this quest"

"Would you mind if i watch?" Idia looks up at you, eyes wide.

He can barely breathe, such is his joy at the possibility of spending time with you. He nods, a soft smile breaking out on his face. He seems so different than the introverted person everyone knows him — he's softer, happier, and more at ease now that he's with you. "Whoa, my good boy is so goof at this" you mumbled to yourself, but you also made sure he heard you. He deserves the praise after all

Idia's eyes fill with shook, but they spark with joy when you praise him. His smile only broadens, to outstanders it may look, manic.

The way you're soft voice was calling him that had his heart pounding for you for eternity.

Malleus - You aren't afraid of me. But I'm starting to become afraid…of losing you.

"Did you enjoy this walk?" "M-Yes, indeed…" Malleus mumbles, his body nearly melting at your touch of your hands touching. The soft sound of his voice is almost enough to make you forget that you've already reached Ramshackle. For a moment, he seems almost… bashful. When he speaks, he glances down at you with soft, adoring eyes.

It takes you a moment to realize that his cheeks are still flushed pink- it's rare to see such a reaction from Malleus. In fact, you've never seen him look quite so… flustered.

"Im glad my good boy enjoyed himself"

"You… you think I'm your good boy?" Malleus murmurs softly, staring down at you from beneath his eyelashes. His voice is almost a purr in its softness. "You want… you want me to stay with you forever?"

Malleus is trembling in your hold, but it has nothing to do with his anger or anything, its excitement. He cannot muster the energy or strength to do anything but stare down at you, breath hitching. Your question has turned his thoughts to mush. His mind is elsewhere entirely-- but with you nearby, he isn't opposed to staying as close as he can.

"Marry me…" he breathes.

"Wha-"

[askevilgale]

oh you always liked the idea of being worshipped, adored, and obeyed? well i would be delighted to get on my knees for you ;)

THIS WILL ALLOW ME TO SACRIFICE YOUR SOUL TO THE WEAVE VERY EASILY, YOUR COOPERATION IS APPRECIATED MORTAL

ALL MORTALS WISHING TO BE SACRIFICED MAY GET ON THEIR KNEES

[pianomanblaine]

Healing Scars

Being intimate with Erik is more than Christine could have ever dreamed of, but when she realises how insecure Erik feels about his body, she is determined to make him see how much she desires him.

AO3 FFN

They had only been intimate a handful of times since their wedding, but Christine was addicted already. His hands on her skin stoked a fire inside of her that she would gladly be consumed by. She would burn for all eternity if it only meant he never stopped touching her.

Inexperienced as he was – as they both were – Erik was a quick study, cataloguing every breathy moan and whimper for future reference, finding those places on her body where she liked most to be touched and kissed, and lavishing attention on them until she felt she would explode with pleasure. He worshipped her as if she were his personal goddess.

She wanted nothing more than to return the favour, mapping his body with her hands, her lips, her tongue, to discover all the delicious sounds her Maestro could make. Whenever she attempted to start her explorations, however, he would always find a way to stop her. Most of the time she didn’t even realise it was happening. Before she even had the time to think about it he had her pinned underneath him, distracting her with his mouth and his talented musician’s fingers until she couldn’t remember her own name, let alone what she had been planning to do.

Tonight was turning out to go down a similar path.

Christine was completely naked already, but Erik had yet to shed any clothing apart from his vest, shoes and socks. Determined to rectify the situation, she started to unbutton his shirt. She had barely reached the third button when she felt his hands cover hers, guiding them away from his chest towards his face. It was then, when she felt the twisted skin of his unmasked face beneath her fingers – it had taken some convincing before he agreed to leave off his mask during their lovemaking – that she realised how desperately he wanted to keep her attention away from the rest of his body.

‘Erik, what’s wrong?’ she asked, straightening up on her knees where she was sitting on the bed to look at him.

‘Nothing at all, my love,’ he replied a little too quickly, not meeting her eyes as he spoke.

‘Then why won’t you let me look at you?’

‘My dear,’ he chuckled nervously, ‘you are looking at me.’

‘That’s not what I meant, and you know it.’ She winced slightly at how harsh her voice sounded to her own ears, but she couldn’t help feeling a little hurt by his constant rejection of her touch.

Erik remained silent, restlessly kneading the fabric of the mattress beneath his fingers.

Very well then, she thought, it seemed like action on her part was needed to draw him out.

She moved to straddle him, and when he still refused to look at her she brought a finger under his chin, softly pushing up his face in a gesture he had used on her so many times before until he couldn’t avoid her gaze any longer.

‘I can tell something is wrong, love. Please tell me what it is. I promise I won’t judge, I only want to help.’

Erik sighed deeply, taking her hand and placing a soft kiss on her palm before finally answering.

‘I haven’t let you look at me because… Well, frankly, because I’m ugly.’

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she kept quiet, allowing him the chance to elaborate.

‘You have been so extraordinarily kind as to allow me into your bed. You continue to insist that you want to see my face, which I still find hard to fathom, but I cannot deny you if that is what you truly wish. However, I simply cannot bear for you to look upon this hideous body, Christine.’

Her heart broke a little at his admission. She grabbed his face with both hands and tried to pour every ounce of love she felt for him into her eyes and into her next words.

‘Darling, how can you think your body would disgust me? You’ve told me that you have scars, but I honestly wouldn’t mind them. They’re simply another part of you, just like your face, and I’ve told you time and again that I don’t want you to hide your face any longer. I want to see the real you. No masks. No barriers.’

‘Oh Christine,’ he murmured, closing his eyes briefly before continuing, a pained expression crossing his features. ‘You say that now, but you don’t understand. Your body is so smooth and soft and beautiful.’ He gently trailed a hand from her breast down to her waist to emphasise his words and her breath hitched at the featherlight touch. ‘Mine is hard and sharp, every inch of skin covered in scars. And unlike my face, which has been my burden since birth, these scars have not always been there. They were put there deliberately by people who wanted to harm me but didn’t live to tell the tale. Every single one of those scars is a reminder of a monstrous past that haunts me, no matter how badly I want to forget.’

Christine was lost for words. She knew about his past and wished more than anything that she could take all that pain away, but nothing she could do would erase what had happened to him.

She had to swallow the lump in her throat before she could say anything.

‘I’m so sorry you feel that way, but I need you to know that I meant what I said. I hate that the scars are there because it means you suffered physically as well as mentally, but they don’t disgust me, Erik. The past is behind us, and right now I am only interested in the present and the future.’

He looked at her disbelievingly, although Christine thought she could see hope begin to shimmer through in his gaze. ‘A future with me, scars and all?’

‘Of course,’ she assured him. ‘Erik, I love you. I’ve told you so before and I will keep telling you until you’re sick of hearing it.’

He scoffed at her words. ‘Even if they were the only words you spoke to me for the rest of your life, I could never tire of hearing them,’ he swore, his eyes burning through her with that same passion she had seen there every time they had been intimate since their wedding night.

‘That might be true, but no matter how many times I say it, I’m still not convinced that you believe me.’

He opened his mouth to protest, but she brought a finger to his lips to silence him.

‘I think there’s a part of you that still believes I will run at the first opportunity. That you are undeserving of love. But you’re not, Erik. So please, let me show you how much I love you, as you have showed me.’

A single tear rolled down the deformed side of his face, telling her that he had recognised the truth in her words, and she bent down to catch the little bead of moisture with her lips. She continued to cover his face with kisses until she felt him shudder underneath her. Her fingers sought out his on the mattress, giving them a little reassuring squeeze.

‘Trust me,’ she whispered, her warm breath tickling his ear, ‘please’.

Trust was a hard thing for him to learn given his past, she understood that, but she also knew that he was unable to refuse her anything and she was proven right when he indicated his assent with a single nod. His golden eyes pleaded with her, for what she did not know, but she made a silent vow there and then that she would do everything in her power to be worthy of his trust.

Christine kept looking him in the eye as she continued to undress him. He didn’t try to stop her again, but shrugged off his shirt when she was done unbuttoning it, dropping it on the ground next to the bed. She recalled how he had described his body as hard and sharp, and it was true. Erik was terribly skinny, so thin she could easily count his ribs. But beneath all of that lay an incredible strength, and so much passion it took her breath away. Skinny he might be, but weak he was certainly not. There was nowhere on earth she felt safer than wrapped up in his arms. If only she could make him see that.

She captured his lips in a soft, reassuring kiss, but when he moved to deepen it, she leaned back.

‘Lie back for me?’ she asked and as he obeyed without complaint, an idea struck her and she guided his hands above his head. ‘I want you to keep your hands here. Don’t move.’

‘What?’

She felt him tense beneath her, the initial confusion in his eyes quickly transforming into panic.

‘No. No Christine, please, don’t ask this of me,’ he begged, ‘I can’t.’

‘Shhh, don’t worry, love,’ she murmured, interlacing her fingers with his, ‘I’ll take care of you.’

‘But I – I need to touch you.’

It was true, he always had his hands on her during their lovemaking, squeezing and caressing every bit of skin he could reach, as if to make sure that she was still there. As if he needed to be certain that she would not simply disappear into thin air. But if she allowed him to touch her, he would certainly use it to distract her whenever he started to feel self-conscious under her ministrations and that is exactly what she did not want to happen. Tonight would be about him.

He tried to wriggle his hands free, but she pushed them back down unto the bed.

‘I know, and you will,’ she promised. ‘Just not yet.’

For a moment Erik looked as if he would object further, but no words left his lips. He simply gazed at her with a mix of fear, hope and adoration. Christine continued to whisper soothing words in his ear, rubbing gentle circles into the palms of his hands with her thumbs until the tension slowly seeped out of him.

Finally, finally she could explore her husband’s body like she had always wanted to, but she had to take things slow for his sake. She wanted him to feel every bit as loved and wanted as he made her feel every day.

Arms were a safe place to start, she decided. She let her hands wander from his palm to his wrist and down his upper arm, following a prominent vein with her fingers, keeping her touch light and soft. She noticed a few scars here and there, but there weren’t all that many. The majority of them must be situated on his torso then, she suspected.

She kept her focus on his arms for a while. When she looked up after a minute or two, his eyes were closed, his limbs loose, body practically melting into the mattress. She couldn’t recall ever seeing him so relaxed. It was such a difference compared to his desperate, panicked state mere moments ago and she silently congratulated herself on the progress she was making.

She mapped out the same trail her fingers had followed with her lips and Erik let out a contented hum. While her mouth left little kisses across his upper arms, her hands continued their path downward until they reached his armpits. He hissed at the tickling sensation, but didn’t otherwise protest as she explored further.

After his arms, she concentrated on his neck and throat, committing to memory the beautiful moans he uttered as she grazed her teeth across his skin before soothing the sting with her tongue. ‘I love this spot,’ she murmured, placing a lingering kiss on the bit of skin between his jaw and his earlobe. ‘I love how sensitive you are here.’ He didn’t reply, but tried to push closer to her lips, wordlessly asking for more. It was all the encouragement she needed.

From there, she let her hands and mouth wander lower, towards his chest, and that’s where she started encountering more scars.

He opened his eyes and tensed slightly when her fingers brushed the first one, watching her intently. She felt the rough ridges of flesh beneath her fingertips, but they didn’t evoke revulsion as Erik expected they would. All she wanted was to caress them until they became a source of pleasure rather than pain. She skimmed her fingers over every scar that came across her path, coaxing little whimpers from his lips, and then kissed and licked the marred skin until he was writhing with need underneath her. ‘I love you,’ she whispered into his skin in between kisses and hoped he understood how badly she truly wanted him, with or without scars.

When she thought he was starting to feel overwhelmed, she shifted her focus to his nipples instead, watching with fascination as they hardened at her touch. The needy moan that escaped his throat as she swirled her tongue around the little buds made desire pool hot in her stomach. She knew from experience how incredible it felt when he did that to her, but she hadn’t expected it would be just as pleasurable for a man. This was definitely a spot she would come back to in the future.

As she scooted down to focus her ministrations on his stomach, she felt his hard length, still caught beneath his trousers, brush against her naked buttocks and he bucked up against her.

‘Please, my love,’ he panted, ‘please, I need you. Let me touch you. Let me have you.’

She had originally planned to move on to his cock next, using her hands and mouth to pleasure him before letting him into her body, but he seemed so desperate already and to be honest, she wasn’t sure she could make herself wait much longer either. Witnessing his pleasure, knowing she was the one to make him feel that way, only fuelled her desire for him. God, he was beautiful, and he was hers, and she needed him.

Without further ado she unbuttoned his trousers and removed them, and he groaned when her fingers brushed his cock. She noted that he didn’t move his hands to help her undress him, still obeying her command to keep them above his head.

As soon as she was settled above him again, his hips started moving, rubbing his cock against her ass, causing her to let out a needy whimper of her own.

‘Yes, okay, give me your hands,’ she ordered him, and he was only too eager to comply. She placed one of his hands on her breast, which he started squeezing immediately, moaning loudly when he was finally allowed to touch her. His other hand she brought to her entrance, guiding two fingers inside and wasting no time in pumping her hips against them. Her breath hitched at the delicious stretch and when he brought his thumb against her nub and started rubbing in little circles, she nearly reached her peak there and then. But tonight was about him. His pleasure was her priority now.

She thrust down on his fingers a few more times before moving off of them and from the moment he had both hands free, they were all over her body. It was as if, now that he was finally able to touch her, he couldn’t decide where to start, wanting to feel her everywhere at once. She let his hands roam her body, revelling in the feeling of his long, slender fingers against her skin. When his hands started drifting down her stomach towards her mound she stopped him. Instead she guided them to her backside and then took his length in her hand, positioning it at her entrance and slowly sinking down on it, never breaking eye contact.

The way he moaned her name once he was fully inside of her was a sound she would never tire of hearing. She could tell by the look on his face that he was trying to hold back, giving her time to adjust, but she was having none of that. She started sliding up and down his length, urging him to move and when he did, she bent forward, capturing his lips in a demanding kiss.

He buried a hand in her hair, pulling her closer still and taking control of the kiss, licking and sucking at her mouth like he could never get enough. When coming up for air became unavoidable, he moved his lips to her neck, latching on to her pulse point and sucking hard. She cried out his name in ecstasy.

‘Erik! Erik, I love you so much.’

‘I love you too,’ he gasped, ‘God, how I love you.’

He was pumping into her in a frantic rhythm now and she knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He usually made sure she reached her climax before chasing his own, but that was not how she wanted it to go this time.

‘Let go, love,’ she urged him, ‘don’t wait for me. Take what you need.’

A deep groan rumbled from his chest and in a single fluid motion, he grabbed her and spun them around so he was on top of her. Erik pounded into her at a relentless pace until she was seeing stars. He tilted up her hips a little, slightly changing the angle of his thrusts so his cock was pushing right against that bundle of nerves which caused sparks to shoot through her entire body. With one final pump of his hips, he spent himself inside her, repeating her name over and over again as if it was the only word he knew, and he took her right over the edge with him.

He collapsed on top of her and Christine had never felt more cherished and at ease than there, pinned underneath his weight. She was unable and unwilling to move, wishing she could stay in this moment with him forever.

When their heavy breathing had returned to normal, Erik slowly blinked open his eyes and gazed down on her with unbridled adoration and devotion. He kissed her on one cheek, then the other, then her nose, her chin, her forehead, peppering her whole face with kisses, making her giggle, and then finally planted a sweet, lingering kiss on her lips.

‘You are an exceptional woman and I cannot believe my luck that you are mine,’ he said reverently.

Christine beamed up at him, her heart fit to burst with all the love she felt for this extraordinary, beautiful man.

‘Then it seems we are both extremely lucky.’

[imagine-loki]

Blushing in His Colours, Chapter 22

TITLE: Blushing in His Colours CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 22 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki being a Daddy Dom, his adores and loves his little, worships the ground she walks on. She has vaginismus, but he couldn’t be more supportive with her. RATING: M

Loki and Mia got a private jet to the coast of Florida, then a boat took them out to the villa that was sat on a small island.

It was just the villa up high on rocks and there was a small beach area. There was a pool, too. The villa was pretty big, as they had expected it to be.

Mia was excited as she looked around the place, there were three bedrooms, all with an en-suite. They picked the biggest one with sliding glass doors that led right out onto the patio where the pool was.

Even though they spent every night together, either in Loki’s room or Mia’s, there was still something rather exciting about the fact they were sharing a room. Heck, their own place together, even if just for a while.

There was plenty of food stocked in the fridge, freezer and cupboards. But they would be able to get anything else they needed delivered over within the day.

They spent the day getting accustomed to the villa and having dinner. They watched a movie together and just snuggled for the evening. Then Mia went to bed and when Loki went through a little while later, he found her watching something on her iPad.

‘What are you watching, sweetling?’ He asked, but he recognised the sound.

She looked like a deer caught in the headlights as she quickly stopped it and threw the iPad down on the bed. Trying to look innocent.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he started stalking towards her. ‘Little one, tell Daddy what you were watching.’

‘Uhm… cartoons.’ She lied, so obviously.

Loki stopped at the side of the bed and folded his arms across his chest, raising an eyebrow at her. ‘Don’t lie to Daddy. You were watching the drone footage, weren’t you?’

Mia’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. She knew she was caught. She bit her lower lip and nodded slowly, making Loki chuckle.

‘Does it arouse you, pet? Knowing how powerful I am?’ Loki growled seductively.

‘I… I always knew you were powerful. I just… never realised quite how much.’ She said quietly.

Loki smiled and winked at her. ‘Take off your clothes for Daddy and give him your panties, little sweetling.’ He said firmly.

Mia slipped off the bed and quickly took off her clothes, she handed him her panties like he wanted. Her face was on fire when he took them and examined them, there was a wet patch, like he had expected.

Smirking, he slipped them into his pocket. ‘Kneel.’ He growled.

She obeyed him instantly, kneeling at his feet. But she moved in close to him and wrapped her arms around his leg, pressing her cheek against his thigh. He reached down and stroked her hair softly.

‘My good girl.’ He purred.

Mia closed her eyes and revelled in his praise and touch. She looked up at him, smiling. He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb up and down, setting her skin alight.

He skimmed his thumb over her lower lip, she parted her lips and he slipped it into her mouth. His cock stirring even more when she started sucking on it, slowly.

‘Ohhh sweetling, you are going to be the death of me.’ He groaned.

Mia slid a hand up his leg and palmed at his cock, she could feel him hardening. She did her best to look as innocent as possible while she swirled her tongue around his thumb and squeezed his cock.

Loki had noticed over time she was getting braver, more confident in herself and her actions. He was awakening the kinky beast within her, and he was totally here for it.

Although, he wasn’t sure if he was totally here for getting his cock sucked right now and cumming embarrassingly quick again. Plus, he had other plans for her anyway… Or so he thought.

‘Can I suck you, please Daddy?’ She asked quietly around his thumb.

Loki groaned again and his head fell back for a moment. How could he resist when she begged, while quite literally on her knees? Her hand still stroking him through his trousers wasn’t helping his dilemma, either.

He looked down and slipped his thumb out from her mouth, stroking her hair. ‘Hmmm, do you really want to suck Daddy’s cock?’

Mia nodded eagerly, squeezing him excitedly.

‘I’ve got a better idea.’ He bent over and lifted her up, making her squeal. He tossed her, gently, onto the bed and as he crawled on with her, his clothes vanished.

He grabbed hold of her and lay down, pulling her on top of him but top to tail. She knew exactly what he was proposing as soon as she was in position. He gripped her thighs and pulled her directly over his face and got to work, licking and suckling her folds and her clit, driving her wild already.

Loki had hoped that having her pleasure to focus on would help him last longer. Oh boy, was he wrong.

When he felt her lips wrap around the tip of his cock, he moaned against her. She then took him further into her mouth and started sucking him. He tried to focus on her clit, rapidly flicking his tongue over her, but that made matters worse as she moaned around him, causing vibrations that made him cum.

She swallowed every drop he had to offer her, lavishing her tongue all over his cock to make sure she hadn’t missed any. Loki really struggled to focus, but her taste was too intoxicating so he was able to continue pleasuring her, living up to his silver tongue nickname.

Loki was still hard, even after cumming. Which delighted Mia. She was struggling to concentrate, Loki’s tongue causing too much havoc on her. But she was obsessed with Loki’s cock, she enjoyed simply having him in her mouth. So even though she couldn’t concentrate properly anymore, she took him in her mouth and just slowly sucked him.

From already cumming once, and the slightly less intensity, he was able to last longer now. He focused on her clit and drove her wild, making her cum too. But he didn’t stop there, his grip on her thighs tightened and he kept pushing her through into another orgasm.

Mia wasn’t sure how she managed to refrain from biting down on his cock as he forced orgasm upon orgasm out of her. Her body shook on top of him, until he came again and then he decided to have some pity on his poor girl.

He rolled her off him and manoeuvred her around so she was up next to him, she snuggled into him as she tried to get her breath back. Loki lazily stroked her back, feeling goosebumps rise on her skin under his touch, making him smile.

‘Sweet dreams, my little sweetling.’ He said as he kissed the top of her head before the two of them drifted off to sleep.

-

The following morning, Loki woke up moaning and arching his back up off the bed as he came, from the feeling of Mia’s warm mouth around his cock, sucking him.

‘Ohhhh Jesus!’ He gasped as he spilled into her mouth and she swallowed it all.

He lifted the blanket up and looked down, seeing her grinning cheekily up at him from between his legs as she licked her lips.

‘Mia!’ He panted.

‘Good morning, Daddy!’ She crawled up and lay on top of him.

Loki put his arms around her and slid a hand down to squeeze her bum playfully. ‘Good morning indeed, sweetling. What was that about?’ He chuckled. His mind was still trying to catch up with his body after that awakening.

Mia giggled and nuzzled into his neck. ‘I just… wanted to give you a nice wake up call. And it was fun taking my time and… exploring a bit.’

Loki raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. ‘Did I last longer this time?’

‘Yep.’ She grinned.

‘Well, that is interesting. Progress.’ He chuckled.

‘Can we go for a swim? Pleeeeeeease.’ Mia pleaded and fluttered her eyelashes.

Loki smirked. ‘Alright. You know I can’t resist it when you beg.’ He tickled up her spine, making her squirm and giggle before she managed to slip off him to get her swimming costume on.

After a big stretch, Loki slipped out of bed and his swimming trunks shimmered onto him. He had thought about them both just skinny dipping instead, but there was a part of him that was worried about any drones lurking around, you could just never be too sure.

When they got in the pool, it was lush. It was warm as the sun had already heated it up nicely, it was a beautiful day.

Mia floated on her back so peacefully, looking up at the sky. Loki swam a few lengths and then stopped next to her.

‘Are you happy, Mia?’ He asked.

Mia turned in the water so she was upright and she put her arms around his neck for support. Loki put his around her middle, holding her close. ‘Of course I am… Why wouldn’t I be? Are you?’ She asked, a little worried.

Loki smiled. ‘I am the happiest I’ve ever been. I was just worried that all this chaos was making you unhappy. I want to give you the world, sweetling.’ He said softly and smoothed her hair back from her face.

She smiled and moved in to kiss him, he slid his hand to the back of her head and held her as they kissed.

‘I’ve never been happier, Loki. I promise. I love you, so much.’ She whispered over his lips.

Loki felt his heart soar. ‘I love you too, sweetling.’

Mia couldn’t resist then pushing back off his chest and splashing him playfully while laughing. Loki was so surprised as it was unexpected, but he laughed and splashed her back, then he went under the water and chased after her. Making her squeal as she tried to out-swim him.

[ichigo-daifuku]

Tickled Pink

Obey Me! Fanfiction

Asmodeus/Reader

Lust and love. Mind, body, heart, and soul. You are his as he is yours.

Mature | Intimacy, Mild Smut, Oral Sex

May I offer you some Asmodeus content in these trying times?

This was inspired by the song La Vie en Rose by Édith Piaf. Reader is gender-neutral. 🌹

Word Count: 1.8k

“Asmodeus.”

The soft call of your voice brought him out of his reverie. How could it not when it was his favorite melody, his name falling past your lips? Whenever you uttered it, he never failed to get caught up in your spell. It was a mystical web he had no desire of breaking free from.

Asmodeus averted his gaze from his reflection in the vanity mirror and turned to you. Flustered, you emerged from his walk-in closet wearing the pajamas he picked out and requested for you to wear tonight. Iridescent silk fabric and pink: those were two things he was partial to, and they were on the one he adored the most. Although you expected his face to light up as he would when he asked you to try on something, this time, his eyes bore to you so heatedly that your gaze shifted to the floor at their fierceness. For a second, your eyelashes cast a shadow over your rosy cheeks, but the desire to see his reaction trumped over your shyness. Your lips curved into a small smile, and you raised your eyes back to meet his gaze once more.

Entranced, Asmodeus smiled at you in return. This was a look he liked on you; a picture of innocence and sensuality in your bashfulness. Was it truly he who had the power to charm beings? Strangely, it was you who charmed him in ways no one had ever done before. Everything about you and him in this moment spread warmth over his mind and body; as if he was drunk on Demonus but with the assurance that he wouldn't suffer from a terrible hangover the next morning. “Oh, I knew it! As expected, I chose the perfect one. It looks great on you!”

“Really?”

“Of course!” He stood and gestured to the seat he vacated. “Come sit, and let me comb your hair. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

You both laughed at the remark he made. “I know.”

The fragrance of roses that clung to your skin, fresh from the warm bath you had together, grew stronger as you made your way to his direction and obliged to his request. Humming to the tune of his favorite song, Asmodeus wasted no time in grabbing his favorite hairbrush from the drawer. He worked through the tangles in your damp hair, and his touch was indeed gentle as he performed the task with practiced ease. He also made sure the hairdryer was not too warm for your liking and not too close to your scalp as he continued. When he finished all that he needed to do, he set the hairbrush back to the vanity and exclaimed, “All done!”

“Thank you.” You turned to him and admired the matching pajama set he wore and his perfectly styled hair. 

“What? Are you mesmerized by my beauty?”

“I always am,” you admitted. “Let’s go to bed?”

“Oh, darling. You know literal sleeping isn’t what’s in my mind, right?”

You chuckled. It was a short, but nevertheless, unforgettable sound embedded in his memory. “Good thing that isn't what I have in mind, either.”

Anticipation led his lustful heart to quicken its pace, its every thump meant for you and no one else as you took his hand in yours and led him to the bed. As always, you were in the same wavelength as him; you understood what he meant even when he spoke in riddles. No one has ever done that before, and it made him feel special—you made him feel special.

Together in his favorite place, you took him in your embrace and whispered, “I love you, Asmodeus.”

Nothing has made him happier. Every time you would say that you loved him, he felt it deep in his bones. Once in a while, you said it as a thank you when he gave you something that reminded him of you. Sometimes, you said it as an invitation to unwind at The Fall when he was feeling down. Other times, it was the fleeting kiss on his cheek you surprised him with when you happened to see each other in between classes. No matter what you said or did, everything meant the same thing, your words and deeds dripped with your affection for him. 

Asmodeus basked in your warmth. He closed his eyes and sought your lips with his, answering your words of love with a passionate kiss. His hands roamed all over your body, lingering on your behind and caressing it before giving it a firm squeeze. You moaned and responded to him in kind, welcoming his tongue with yours the second he slid it past your parted mouth. As you shared more kisses, he groaned, his body quivering at the touch of your fingertips. It was reminiscent of how aphrodisiacs affected him, except it was more pleasant; permanent.

One by one, he unbuttoned your top and took his time in worshipping the exposed skin. He kissed your chest and felt your heartbeat, the pulse against his lips telling him that you were real, you existed, and you were in his arms. As he made his way lower, the excitement of baring your entire form to him heightened his blazing libido. It was amusing how he requested for you to wear these pajamas, and yet, here he was, peeling the articles of clothing from your skin without hesitation nor regret minutes after. 

Once again, Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust, would do what he did best with you. It was different, however, for what he felt for you wasn’t a fleeting wave of arousal. There were times when the acquaintance of your bodies called for wild seduction and gratification, but tonight was meant for mellow lovemaking. As a hedonistic creature, he loved and excelled in both, but the connection he shared with you was the most intimate connection he has ever shared with anyone. It was scandalous, but at the same time, precious. He couldn’t get enough—no, he’d never get enough.

He discarded your pajama pants and underwear and closed his lips over your sex. Your taste, the moans beginning to escape your lips, and your responsiveness to his ministrations tempted him to give in and give you all he has to offer. He planned to, but tonight, he’d take his time in satisfying you completely, paying particular attention to the places where you felt the most pleasure and prolonging your journey to your peak. Asmodeus couldn’t help it; he longed to know your body like the back of his hand. Your fingers clutched his favorite bed sheet while your other hand carded through his hair, the tips of your nails teasing his scalp lightly. Eyes closed, you desperately tugged at his locks and moved your hips as you yearned for more friction. Unable to deny you any longer, he granted you what you wanted and needed.

You were lovely, coming undone at the power of his lips and fingers.

Panting, you sat up as he did, looked him in the eyes, and pleaded, “Let me love you, too, Asmo.”

Another surge of desire coursed through his veins at your words alone. “You really know how to get me riled up, don’t you?”

You laughed. “I’m glad I do. So, will you let me?”

“Why don’t you come here and kiss me, then?”

Without wasting a second, you shifted closer and connected your lips to his, tasting a hint of yourself on his mouth as you deepened the kiss with your tongue. With eager fingers, you undressed him and discarded his nightwear to the foot of the bed, all the while the sounds of your lips connecting, again and again, filled the room.

Asmodeus sighed as you parted your lips from each other’s and pressed your foreheads together. With a serious but hopeful glint on his eyes, he held you by the shoulders and said, “Give your heart and soul to me, love.”

Smiling, you whispered, “How could I when they're already yours?”

Your wandering hands traced his torso until your fingers closed around his rigid length, your every stroke driving him to the brink of madness. The roses in his room, all in full bloom, and your strong presence filled his senses. Asmodeus trembled and fluttered his eyes closed, overjoyed at the realization that his every fantasy with you was turning into reality as the days went by. 

If Asmodeus was being honest with you, himself, and the three worlds: he loved you as much as he loved himself, maybe even more—he was uncertain, for now, at least, because everything was new to him. Still, the idea alone was something he never would have believed to be possible. The sheer vulnerability stripped him for your scrutiny, and yet, in times when he secretly felt ugly, you saw him, and he was beautiful in your eyes. In the thousands of years Asmodeus has existed, it was in these moments with you that he has felt the most cherished. He shined even brighter than he used to when he was still the Jewel of the Heavens.

It was another night full of romantic declarations, no spaces between your bodies, and overlapping lines of lust and love. The sensation of your body moving in synchrony with his was reminiscent of the joys of heaven and the carnal pleasures of hell. He took delight in it as much as you did. Silently, he wished that nights would be longer for morning meant that you would have to part. But all was well; it was also another day, another opportunity, and another moment he could spend loving you.

The morning after, Asmodeus awoke to your sleeping face beside him, your arm wrapped around his waist, and your breaths warm against his chest. As always, his profane heart raced for you. Nights of jumping from one bed to another only to wake with an empty space next to him had come to an end. There was no need for any more walks of shame, either. All this time, it wasn’t the warmth of another’s body Asmodeus was yearning for—it was the warmth of someone else’s love, the warmth that you so freely and tenderly bestowed upon him.

You roused from your slumber and opened your eyes, smiling when you noticed him gazing at you. In a daze, you greeted, “Good morning, Asmo.”

Both unabashed and beloved, you remained bared for each other. You snuggled to him and closed your eyes again, sighing as you began drifting off.

“Good morning,” he whispered. Eyes watering, he pressed a kiss on your hair and combed his fingers through it, lulling you and himself back to sleep. “It’s a good morning.”

At long last, Asmodeus has found happiness.

Thank you for reading! 🌹💕

Obey Me! Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[danked-piccolo-shit]

Beerus x Fem! Reader ( NSFW )

Warning ! NSFW ( This is, like, kinky I guess ? 🤔 But just a little bit, don't worry. Have fun anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it ! )

Second Warning ! Grab some popcorn and roll your best one, this shit is long!

Awakened by an odious nightmare wasn't the most pleasant way to wake up, let alone for a God. He could not help the grunting, it had been a long time since he had made such an horrible one, after all. His dry throat begged for some water, and so he decided to leave his bed before making his way out of the room nonchalantly. He had slept for three months, nothing but a nap, for him. However, thirst wasn't the only reason that brought him out of his sheets.

A lovely smell did came to tickle his nose, and he knew exactly the provenance of it. You. The charming little human whom he had put at his service to cook for him, and to avoid him having to constantly return to Earth to eat some delicacies of your planet that he was so badly mad of.

Everything you cooked was tasty, and you always seemed to do your best to please the delicate palate of your God by creating new stuff here and there. Sure, you took some time to accommodate, but it paid off. You were happy, befriended Whis in like 2 days and always hanging around with him when Beerus was asleep. He would bring you back to Earth when you needed raw materials, or just to see your family, even if the Lord would like to keep you at home as much as possible...

A yawn resonated in the corridors, before the big cat entered in your kitchen without you noticing it. Daydreaming of the sweets things you surely have done in his absence, and especially still timidly awake, the deity didn't notice the imminent collision that followed.

" Ouch... S-Sorry Lord Beerus, I didn't saw you coming " You proclaimed shyly before welcoming him properly.

It was only in the middle of a conversation that the God looked down, before making a huuuge leap backwards. A panties with drawings on it... It was the only thing you wore ! A little earlier, his gaze dared to meet your bare chest, with your hair successfully hiding each one of your nipples. Yeah, the Destroyer was fully awakened, now...

" How dare you walk around dressed like that ?! Aren't you ashamed, you filthy nudist ?! "

"Oh, sorry, but... How could I have predicted that you would come to my kitchen at 3 a.m, Lord Beerus? ^^" Besides, we don't see anything at all ! A-And my cookies are almost ready "

" Don't you try to justify yourself ! "

Despite his reprimands, the deity could only compliment your physique: on the criteria of his planet, your body was much more than magnificent. The way your hips swayed to face the oven where your cakes were still cooking, the way your buttocks lifted by the mere act of leaning forward... As if you wanted to make him admire a little more the fine fabric that prevented your nudity.

" Ah ! As you are awake, now, do you need anything ? A special meal or cake you want me to cook for you ? "

" D-Don't you turn around so fast ! "

Geez you really wanted him to have a heart attack, don't you ?

" Give me a glass of water... And maybe one of those 'cookies' you made... "

You move and offered him what he came for. However, you couldn't see the lustful look that devoured your thighs as you carefully put your cookies in a jar.

" And here is one for you ! " You said in a cheerful tone as you gave him the fruit of your work, unknowingly letting a nipple show itself to the God in your action.

_______________

The still warm cookie came crashing to the floor, smashing itself into a multitude of small pieces in a dry, clean sound, contrasting with the scream of surprise of the adorable servant you were. Your chest bounced gently as the destroyer seized you on the wrist and made you turn by force to face him completely. Your eyes filled with fear mirrored in the amber pupils, and the simple vision of it excited Beerus even more. The situation which you were in couldn't make room for a step back, and the worst was that you knew it. You had awakened the desire of a God, and you were going to pay for your insolence.

" How dare you get scared. You are the one who started it all, remember ? "

" L-Lord Be- "

" Shut up "

Without warning, he removed the strand of hair that once again hid your nipple before letting his free hand play with the sensitive skin of your breast, admiring your oh so lovely reaction when he did. His other hand released your wrist, before also enjoying the more exquisite and softer feel of this particular area. You did not oppose any resistance. You knew all too well what was waiting for you if you did. And, maybe, a part of you still believed you'll have the deity's mercy if you went along with what he was doing to you.

Wrong.

The tail of your worshipped lord slowly found its way between your thighs, pressing the soft fabric of your panties against your clit. His action made you shiver, and the growing smile Beerus showed you when you felt your nipples hardening under his touch only helped you realise how screwed you truly were.

The iron grip of the destroyer threatened to crush your breasts, and the sharp teeths that came to gently bite your neck sometimes changed into kisses. You couldn't stop a loud moan to escape from your lips when he bit you a little harder than before, and some hot tears to run from your cheeks as he pinched your nipples so.fucking.hard.

" P-Please, my Lord- Aaaahh ~ ♡ "

Did he just...whip your ass with his tail ? Sure he did. And for some reason, you liked it. You liked the red mark that traced its passage on your buttcheek, you loved the bites marks you'll surely be able to see tomorrow... The god of destruction was going to fuck you, and that idea made your whole body warm up instantly.

You didn't have sex in a long time, and being wanted by a powerful deity was kinda flattering to say the least. You had no way to escape, anyway, so why not letting the part of you that wanted it to express itself ? That's what you told yourself to justify the sinful desire that was starting to flow more and more in your heated body as Beerus stole your lips in a passionate kiss.

The tail that still rubbed between your thighs came to whip your ass again, letting another of your moan to break the deep kiss you were receiving from your Lord.

" You're only waiting for that, huh? I warn you, I would be absolutely not lenient with you. You deserve no favorable treatment after having excited me so much ... "

Unconsciously, you bit your lips, causing your God to rip the one and only piece of clothing you possessed.

" Be... Lord Beerus ~ "

" Silence ... On your knees before your God of Destruction "

His hands slid over your body one more time before you obeyed, leaving the thin strips of tissue of his clothing to fall down, now revealing the imposing cock of the deity.

Instinctively, you began to suck, despite the growing pain in your jaw to have something as big in your mouth. Your tongue danced around his dick, only wanting to please the god in front of you, as you slowly slipped a finger in your wet entrance in hope to prepare your body for what will be coming next.

Beerus was in paradise. You did it so well ! Gradually, you gave him a pleasure to which he had lost taste for since, what, a few billion years already ? You were such an obedient little human ! The least he could do to congratulate you was to give you the honor to help you a little bit, didn't he ? A strong grip came to grab your hair, much to your surprise, only to push his cock further into your mouth, smothering the cry of pain you let escape in his action. What the God didn't suspect was that he too ended up moaning as he aggressively continued to abuse your throat. Enough, he had enough, ENOUGH ! Without warning, he removed your head quickly before pushing you down to bump into you brutally.

The scream you obviously let escape immediately made him grab your hips, now letting your loud moans to resonate in the kitchen in a mix of pleasure and pain that Beerus was truly content to hear. Your walls menaced to break at each movements from the Destroyer, and the simple pressure of his hands on your hips could break your bones at any time. Never in your life did you felt so....full.

" Little pervert ~ You love it, don't you ? "

The deity gained in intensity, bending your spine much more than what your body could normally bear. To hear you shout his name again and again was starting to drive him crazy, as well as to revive his impatient temper...

" Answer.... NOW ! "

His tail that crashed once again on your buttocks has only made you shed more tears. Your whole body shivered against your will, impossible to make it stop. You came so hard it made your head rock against the floor, and the divine cum that came to spread in your pussy a few seconds later couldn't had help to contain a second orgasm that ravaged you.

He slipped out of your abused hole, waaay to open now to keep all the fluids inside. You were a shivering, still moaning mess, even if you already had finished.

" Didn't want to answer, my adorable servant ? "

Beerus lifted you up, using once again his prodigious force to press you against the wall, placing his still erected dick in front of your entrance. You didn't have the strength to answer, you didn't even remembered which you needed to answer for, to be honest.

Your blushing face, your pained moans, your trembling body, the way you avoided his gaze... For Beerus, this was awfully cute. You were awfully cute. So cute, in fact, that he wanted to do it again ~

After all, your lack of response was an affront to your God ;)

You screamed in pleasure before you had the time to recover your senses, and your still sensitive body collapsed again under the grip of the destroyer. Cradled by your cries and your moans, Beerus allowed himself to soil your work space a little more, during the different orgasms that followed.

He left no place of your body untamed, he even redoubled strength and caresses to make you say everything he wanted you to tell him.

His dick was good ? Of course it was !

Be filled with his cum ? Yes ! Every part of your body must be !

Never going back on Earth, never see your family again ? Sure ! If it was what you Master and Lord wanted...

Your mental health slowly broke with each one of your orgasms, to the point that you were finally convinced and even happy to become his pleasure object for the rest of your mortal life.

It's a little surprised and disappointed that Beerus saw a solar ray illuminate your body, despite the closed shutters. It was time to end this little game that was his, and to let you recover a little ... At least until tonight ~ Before cumming for the last time, he let his eyes filled with lust contemplate your kitchen, and particularly the few places where he didn't take you to make you beg for more. He filled your belly once again, as he finished to admire how hoarse your breathing was.

" When you get a little better, clean me all this mess. I leave you all the rest of the day to do it. No need to cook, today, just make sure you have enough energy to go to my apartments at the end of the afternoon ~ "

You barely had the strength to nod, your throat was so dry from the screamings that you couldn't let any word to escape from your lips. The clothes and jewelry regained the burning skin of the destroyer, now satisfied with the scarlet color that your buttocks took. He exited the room, not without exchanging a last accomplice gaze with you. You truly were his favorite little human ~

_______________

Beerus growled at the touch of his erection rubbing against the soft fabric of his pajamas, making him regret to actually have gone back to bed, while he could have realized this scenario that he couldn't stop to visualise in his mind. If one day he had been told that he would use his mental visualization for that purpose ... He wasn't going to hide it, he was a little bit ashamed of himself to imagine all of that, but you were so tempting... And thinking of you this way was better than waking you up brutally in the middle of the night to satisfy his impulses... Yes ? No ? HE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW !

Why did he leave after eating one of your cookie ? Did he was too shocked by your beautiful body ? Or was that because he didn't wanted to loose the precious food you provided him everyday just for a little bit of amusement ? He curses himself for his indulgent behaviour towards you, while the sinful nipple of yours shown again in his memories.

His sleep was going to be hard to regain... :(

You truly were lucky your cookies were so good....

He growled again.... Godammit... ( or Zenodammit ? XD )

_________________________

This is it ! Hope you've enjoyed it so far, and, as always, thanks for reading, pal 👋

[emersonmanandnature]

January 10, 2021

The Rising Sun

we have a world of misrepresentation, a lack of honest words deepening our conscious paranoia of traders accumulating under the guise of friendly intimidation, our baby savior born in a stable, the son of god given to mankind by a father unworthy for what godly father would send his only son to this debased planet of greed, power, killing for pleasure and not make the journey himself in his full bodiless voice as he showed his power in the old testament but never showed his physical human face or was it a god like face, handsome lord showing off his prowess to give his underlings pain and suffering when he wasn’t being adored every second of their days in squalor, for one must obey the rightful heirs to the throne of earthly ruthlessness even if they are like all human faces without earned power instead killing everything in their way to become an earthly god and when jesus’s face showed up on a sacred cloth a handsome face in agony and after his tortured self was nailed to a cross forgiving us our corrupted faithless sins, the churches got bigger, the minister slicker in his stylish brioni-narrow stripe suits fitted to the man’s ego of self importance all a cover image of caring for others but the caring is depended on the flow of money to their godly nature to their bank account and not yours and their savior not yours and god’s hell is waiting for you not them these gluttons of greed worshiping wealth over a god unknown but love the phrase, ‘everything money can buy,’ with their stolen cash deposited in off shore accounts, can I get a ‘praise the lord.’

his sacrifice for others a necessary response a bait and switch hustle for we are told by god to obey the laws of his created reality, his forceful infinite power imagined yet without substance and authenticity what purpose exposed religion of its sinful nature, to strike fear into the souls of humans conditioning them to be present and accepting their godly induced pain without sympathy for the poor who were taken without mercy to do the dirty work in building edifices to honor the already present gods ruling over their begotten flock seeking someway to escape the controlling force of powerful forces eating away at their dreams, for soon they will rise into the heavens of a godly imagination for you are nothing here on this planet for the real rulers seek the graceful killings of men, women and children for all are sinners in god’s ghostly presence, a story understood immediately to be the climax of illusions needed to placate the people to suffer now but soon when killed from slavery will rise from the grave as the rightful son of god did and be born again in darkness for the scam was hope as they are slaughtered by the ego’s of selfish brutality determined to keep their power through history at all costs for after all we are just human beings grasping for something real, something good, that allows us a breath of fresh air knowing that we are doing someone worthwhile, a good deed silent without praise for why do we need praise for our invisible god still gets the majority of praise when it was human beings understanding someones needs and giving without a need to be worshiped, we live a dual life of hypocrisy praising a god never scene and ignoring poverty and hunger as if that didn’t exist either,

we are not god’s my darling child said the wealthy man to his daughter but father, why then do all our servants bow in your presence, well my daughter it is because I own them but papa aren’t they people just like us with hopes and desires and goals, no my darling girl we are better than all of them put together, the middle class now inching closer to being poor, amongst the already poor, those living out on the cold hardened streets, but what would god say to you about your ownership of these people papa, for you are not a god, he would praise me for I built my wealth from the ground up on the backs of the workers, I didn’t preach or praise if anyone wasn’t doing his/her best then they were let go, but how would they feed their family, oh my darling child if he worked himself to death he still couldn’t save his family from poverty and starvation, doesn’t that make you want to help them even more, of course I want to help them and that is why I own them to make them work harder and harder for our beautiful mansion for then they will see what they have accomplished and feel proud before they parish, oh papa don’t you feel sad to blame the poor that starve to death or just collapse from exhaustion because their wages are so low, you will understand soon enough my daughter for we are above the fray, it is our solemn duty to make money and only money to support our lavish lifestyle for their lifestyles are meager at best and they can’t be trusted to be anything else but exploited, herded animals to be put to work, but father we could give them a better chance, no, no, no, I must stop you my darling for in my lifetime and my father’s before me and his father before him they don’t deserve our gifts, it is I that made the money off them, off mother earth by raping the landscape destroying its beauty for my own purpose, for us to be in our own paradise away from the havoc of despair, who needs a god to judge us we will judge him and his inability to take care of all his children, good night princess and don’t worry about the lower class for they are here to serve our needs not theirs, that is god’s will to obey the powers that be, god’s power given in his announcement through the apostles that we obey the masters of this world until we die and then we go to paradise to obey our true master.

God’s power is my power, I am a conduit to him our lord, my reasons for being alive in his presence and his heaven waiting us all.

What presence? What heaven?

I am afraid Jesus left this earthly hell centuries ago and decided to move on to bigger and better worlds than this crackpot world of greed, wars and humiliation of his commandments. For mankind is caught in a dual existence of matter and thought. Matter is just there to be manipulated and I believe we constituent matter to be exploited.

But ideas move us further away from a godly symbol and applauds the ego of human nature. For we have the power to change this reality into our own paradise, accepting all into the circle of caring love. In other words we become for the rich their private cash machine!

The mind conditioned with triggers that easily fill the fools inadequacy to rely not on themselves to find truth but to believe in anothers truth that pushes one to selfish hatred of humans that don’t look like them, the white racists.

The mind triggered, easily fooled always looking for the new scam to succeed over the little people, taking their hard earned dollars.

Amen, praise the lord for he is our truth of injustice for all. Except the true criminals getting away with murder, hallelujah!

Lord god what was your purpose in making us. Were you lonely, in a silent universe and you needed  something to save, in order to feel powerful, to feel godly in order to be worshiped.

That seems pretty close to the elites that now rule our world.

God you are the ultimate power and why would you need us lowly humans to be your independent puppets. A forced march to our deaths through the hell of earthly criminals taking from us our humanity.

Why would you ask us to follow the powerful leaders of your creation, the warriors of our beginning, the vicious murders taking place since our evolution of power, the taking of someones independence for their pleasure!

If god exists why would he postpone the garden of eden, our mother earth and love of his children with all his heart and not through a trilogy of powers that seem to be on their own biblical page.

For us our lord, your suffering in loneliness created these men and now you expect us to cow down to the ugliness of their greedy sins. As they the powerful laugh all the way to their hidden banks.

If you were sincere in your actions of love by creating us then why wouldn’t you have checked up on us to see how we are progressing in your hypocrisy of using the word savior. For we are living in the pit of hell with corruption always present and hate feeds the masses to exploit each other for profit and wars escalate as bigger and better weapons are made and you sit on your throne doing what?

Get off your ass and get down here and truly save us not from hell for we are in hell but to at least strike fears in the wealthys lifestyle of worshiping money over people.

Please give us a clue on why you have been absent from us. Do you fear we would be a bad influence on your heavenly angels. Are you that appalled at our action of desires, power and hate. What are you waiting for?

Are you waiting for the last days of insanity? I got news for you almighty knower of everything, we are living it now!

Your time has always been now, so explain yourself, why are you hiding from your people. Are you ashamed of your creations? I can see why you should be ashamed of yourself for throwing Adam and Eve out of paradise by introducing them to satan.

What a great surprise you pulled, happy birthday and your out of this earthly paradise to toil and fight for you existence!

That sounds very familiar your highness for we are those people, adams and eves fighting for our lives!

What are you waiting for the end of days? They are closer than you know. We are soon to be under siege not by our governments military for that is already present but by climate change that is increasing the need for people to migrate to find water and food.

And it seems all knowing master you have ignored the cruelty of our lives in silence. Creating a void of communication so the people are forced to rely on human beings that have the character of lucifer.

Wake up god get real and give us your verbal words and not an ancient book made to make us complacent of our station in life.

Are you waiting for something to happen but aren’t you all seeing, all knowing so you know what is coming and yet you sit back and refuse to interfere with the constant pollution sickening innocent people. Look at our leaders all bought and sold to the highest bidder. Criminals and murders have taken over your planet you named paradise, bull shit it is about your ego and the mess you left without returning to help your congregation. We are dying in military madness, racism, poverty and pandemics. I hope you have good seats to watch your sinners die a slow painful death!

The parade of wealthy hypocrites all through our evolution, their propaganda cunning to keep the people focused on death rather than life to find their paradise!

Living in pain and suffering, a useful tool for if christ could suffer for our sinful nature then our lives too must suffer for we are the guilty sinners of god’s all knowing wrath but our holy savior brought to us in a heavenly disguise, made an appearance on broadway in a play called, jesus christ super star,’ these new gods of institutionalized corruption take from the poor to give to the cult of evil wealth, their minds joined to partake in the dismantling of peace, happiness and love and replace it with raping every inch of this planet for their own personal needs, the murdering of innocent people all through our viscous centuries, placating the population with an afterlife ruse that made their lives painfully lived seeking a paradise that the wealthy own and destroyed here on mother earth, god’s gift to his children here on planet earth which he abandoned for other creations, I guess?

[amwritingmeta]

S14 Finale: First Impressions

I got my grubby hands on the ep yesterday and watched it super late when everyone else had gone to bed and I was like clutching my face and stifling giggles of joy and just breathing OH MY FUCKING GOD (I shall never be able to actually use that expression again in the same manner but I did while watching oh YES) at the screen. :P

All I really want to put here is a screaming ghost face emoji and then a dancing lady in a red dress and then a crying his eyes out smiley and then idk like just all the expletives?

Yeah?

Because ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm HOLY FUCKING FUCK, BATMAN!

So happy. Ecstatic might even be the word!!

First impression —> Good.

So damn amazed at what they can communicate through a character performing one wordless action. Or an action attached to just one word. It’s... beautiful!!

And did we get a twist or what?? Our deus ex machina comes in and fucks shit up! I don’t think anyone saw him coming in to fix anything, right? But to have him come to subvert the very definition of a deus ex machina?? Aaaahhhhhhhh I CANNOT EVEN BELIEVE DABB!! BRILLIANT!!

Jack. JACK. What can’t I say about our boy? How delighted am I not at how he handled himself this episode and might I scream about his ending up in the Empty? I may have enjoyed the idea of him heading off to Heaven with Cas, but that may still happen. Jack in the Empty is such fucking wish fulfilment though, that I can’t even begin. 

And BILLIE IS THERE!!! 

And they need to talk!! 

Shall we all just jump on the supportive bandwagon of Jack as our New God (as per rectifying the Godstiel arc and, by extension of Cas’ faith in him, stepping in to fucking help fix Cas’ earlier mistakes?? JAYSUS PLEASE ALL THAT IS GOOD!!) Seriously, Jack gaining control of his powers and helping Billie reap God and taking his rightful place leading Heaven and bringing balance between Heaven, Earth and Hell... My heart can barely cope. *teary eyed*

Obviously with his father figures (yes Sam and Dean are still good father figures) (they just went a little wayward there for a moment) possibly probably teaching and guiding him.

Oh my God, Dean not firing that gun! I was so relieved. Serious fists-to-mouthage going on at that moment like omg omg please Dean, please. And when he uncocked it and THREW IT ON THE GROUND?? *squeaks* 

And, hey, God did hand-deliver the weapon to kill Jack and it was left in Dean’s own hands to make the choice whether to shoot it or not, but oh man! The fact that killing the representative of his inner child combined with that swallowed up toxic masculinity and everything this represents meaning Dean literally fucking killing himself was just... That was just... I can’t. *big wobbly* *so gorgeous*

And I just did not expect that they’d turn God - pardon, I mean Chuck - into the Big Bad. It’s EPIC.

Jeez, here I was thinking of Chuck as the good guy just trying his best. The epitome of the parental figure that has learned to let go and take a step back. The dad who might’ve created in his image in order to be worshipped, but who then went on to create humanity and realising his mistake the first time around (with the angels) imbuing them (us) with free will. With choice. Because his angels’ worship and loyalty were manufactured. And he wanted to be loved. Truly loved. 

Bah. Humbug.

It’s fantastic!! Because of course there was always the controlling side to God. The God that locked his sister away. That betrayed her. The dark side to him, that’s all about being obeyed, and doing whatever he wants because he can... And how he represents lying, manipulation, control. The stuff that needs to be rooted out. Yessss. *fingers crossed* (I cannot believe Chuck is our Big Bad!!) (he’s our BIG BAD for the final season!!) *gah!*

Anyway. I don’t think Chuck was actually built, in the narrative, to be this. This is Dabb’s twist. But it’s fucking perfect and I love it. And ROB!!! YAAASSSS! More of Rob next season. *adoration falls on the floor omgl* *no not oh my good lord* *ombl* *oh my bad lord* :P 

Also. Is Chuck bad? Or is he still writing his story? You know? I mean, total Big Bad vibe for good reasons, but... he’s a liar, after all. What exactly is the lie and what’s the truth? :P

Sam. SAM. Telling Dean off, and then speaking to God and seeing through his BULLSHIT and getting in a car and driving to stop Dean. *shivers of pleasure* More of this next season. Come on, Sam. You know you’re such a strong, smart leader. You know who you are!! You just have to let him out.

Man! I hope all this happens sooner than later.

Cas.

I have no words. I have NO WORDS!! When he turned and walked out of that room after Dean had challenged him with how God had just told them what had to be done and if it didn’t suit Cas then he could just go. OMFG OMFG HE LEFT. He just gave Dean that Look - and left to go find his son. *sobs*

Also, that shoulder bump between Cas and Dean earlier. I am really, really intrigued by how Dean and Cas’ relationship will start off next season and how the writers will explore it. But this. This distance. CAS STANDING BETWEEN JACK AND DEAN!! Potentially hugely important. Amazing. Fantastic. And good lord does it bode well for his individual arc.

Where that arc is headed? I feel he’s still emotionally linked to Heaven, and for good reason. His bad choices has absolutely devastated his home. It’s completely understandable that he’s not just going to shrug his shoulders and go, well, my home’s on Earth now. So the salvation, to me, lies in Jack. I mean. The setup is formidable, if this is where they’re headed. It’s beautiful. And emotional. And fitting. Because through his entire journey, Cas has learned the lessons needed to have actual faith in Jack, even when no one else did, and through this faith, Jack might turn out to be the one being that can restore Heaven to its former glory. And fix what Cas broke.

Oh, it would be... so satisfactory. It really would. The bringer of balance. The representative of Heaven, Humanity and Hell. Sitting on the throne of Heaven while keeping Hell in check. Leaving Earth to its dealings. The way it was done before S4 and the breaking of the first seal and the rising of Lucifer, which was all brought on by... God himself. Yeah. I mean. To close this narrative this way would be... Mh. Goodness.

Seriously, this is a rambling mess of first impressions, but oh, those first impressions were so good. I’m so excited. This finale was absolutely fantasmical and next season They Go Big. *no kidding*

I’m so happy they got to stay together. THEY KEPT THEM TOGETHER!! FOR THE SEASON FINALE!!! I’m so fucking happy!! No matter the tension between Dean and Cas, they’re, all three of them, together. What if that’s the tone for next season? Teamwork. Learning to communicate. More episodes together as a trio rather than spent apart, divided up?? *tears up again at the mere possibility of it all* 

What we surely do have is TFW, shoulder to shoulder, facing the end of the world. 

Apocalypse Now, here we come. 

Hot. Damn.

*I love this show*

I’ll write more meta asap (literally meaning As Soon As Possible) (life is misbehaving at the moment and hours are short and far between), but there’s so much meta to write!!

Also, welcome to Hellatus. 

If this is your first time, please know that there’s plenty of fan fiction and meta writing to get you through, and don’t forget to check out the archives. We’ve got fourteen seasons smack on the table ripe for dissecting. Blades at the ready. Sharpest ones, if you please. 

Aw. 

We’re gonna have So Much Fun! 

[betweensceneswriter]

Island Hopper-Chapter 2: Snorkelbathing

What do you do when you can't seem to get rid of your farmers' tan?

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Or Read the Entire Work on Archive of Our Own

Previously on Island Hopper- Chapter 1: Lukuun Lakatu Claire’s life is full of blessings.

     “Ugh,” I groaned, looking at myself in the mirror.  “We’re heading to Guam for Christmas, a place people actually wear swim suits to the beach, and I’ve got the farmiest farmers’ tan I’ve ever seen!”

     I hadn’t realized, when I joined the Peace Corps and chose to go to Arno, that decency standards on this particular island would mean I could never sunbathe.

     Of course Jamie grinned at me, coming up behind me.  “I quite like your farmers’ tan, Ri-pālle.  It’s like a line of demarcation; the border of a country,” he said, softly tracing the tan lines on my upper arms, the back of my neck, and then across my breasts. “These lines say, ‘Beyond here, this territory belong to Jamie Fraser and no one else.’”

     He stood behind me, reaching his hands around my rib cage to cup my breasts, and kissing me firmly on the shoulder.

     You’re a goober,” I said, “And that’s half the reason I love you.  Well?  Are you going to spend some time exploring your territory?”  I raised my eyebrows at him and reached up to unhook my bra.

     Yes,” he said, picking me up and carrying me to our bed.  “Though I have a feeling there’s not much I havena explored already numerous times.”

     I swatted at him irritably.

      “I didna say I was bored of it,” Jamie defended himself.  “Or that every time isna just as amazing and breathtaking as the first time.”

     I was glaring at him when he sat down on the bed, holding me.  “Dinna look at me like that, Claire,” he said.  “Ye ken I was absolutely serious when I made that vow, putting my ring on your hand.”

      “Which vow?” I asked.  He turned, and laid me back on the pillows.

      “Wi’ my body, I thee worship.  Because I do.  And I will always.”  He punctuated the phrase by climbing over me and kissing me on abdomen, breast, and neck, then gently lowering his body onto me, resting on his elbows, and looking at my face curiously.  “Ye liked that?” he asked.  “What I just said?”

     I wasn’t anywhere as big as him, but Jamie instinctively obeyed my body’s directives as I urged him to roll us over so that I was on top.  I started to cover his neck and chest in a flurry of kisses, but also found my eyes filling with tears.  Jamie grabbed my wrists and stopped me. 

      “I want to hear it,” he said.  “What is it?”

      “That’s always been my favorite vow,” I said, as he released one hand to reach up and wipe my cheek.  “I mean, in sickness and in health is nice, richer or poorer, ‘til death do us part.  But something about ‘With my body, I thee worship’ gets me every time.”

     Jamie’s face softened, but his body was responding completely the opposite.  He could have made love to me right then, but I was overcome with a feeling of generosity, scooting down the bed until I was between his legs, then lowering my torso until I could  envelop him with my mouth.

      “Oh my God, Claire…”

     If I had any doubts about how he felt about what I was doing for him, the sounds it drew from him made it quite clear.

      “You’re a magician,” he said, wide-eyed, several minutes later as I flopped back on the bed, tucked next to him with his arm around me.  “I’ll have to remember that phrase, if it makes ye that grateful and generous.”

      “How grateful and generous are you feeling?” I asked teasingly. 

      “You have no idea,” he said, exchanging positions with me.  “But allow me to demonstrate what I mean when I say ‘with my body I thee worship’.”

      Jamie headed off to school with a kiss and a hug, and the reminder that today he needed to stay at school for lunch.  It was Thursday, and for some reason I had the strange feeling that I was forgetting something.  But it wasn’t a regular clinic day, Sharbella had morning sickness again, and when I went to the clinic at 9, there was no one waiting for me.  I decided to see some families for home visits while I had the opportunity.

     I meandered toward Matolen, passing Najor’s house with some sadness, thinking of little Maxson.  On the edge of their property, I saw a wheelbarrow, probably the same one Najor had always used as a stroller for her son.  I waved at Karla, who was heading into their cookhouse.  “Iiokwe!” I said, and she responded in kind.

     As I walked a little farther, I came to a neat little property on the iar side.  The house was a bright blue, simple and boxy.  In the yard, one of the local mamas, Adina, sat on a mat with her two children close to her.  I remembered seeing the little girl around.  I think her name was Lolly, and I think the boy’s name was Lakatu, which means “handsome.”  He was one of the little people who suffered from boils on his scalp, but despite the small scars, the kids were adorable, and when I smiled and waved, Adina said, “Itok, Miss Peachay.”

     I came and squatted by her, but she scooted over on her mat to make a place for me.  She was weaving a beautiful decorative mat, made of small cowry shells, pandanus leaves, and thin strips of something that looked like raffia.

      “What are you making?” I asked, then tried my Marshallese to say the same thing. “Te ao komman?

     Adina smiled and corrected me.  I watched with interest as she wrapped the paper-like raffia around the pandanus fronds, threaded it through a cowry shell, and then continued.  I pulled out my Majel cheat sheet and asked her about the kids.  Were they sleeping well?  Eating well?  Was washing Lakatu’s face and hair at night helping avoid more boils? Adina answered, and I scribbled down a few notes in my notebook, gave her a bar of soap and a pair of fingernail clippers from my bag, and then just sat, watching.

     After a while, she asked me, “Ta ṇe ear kabbōj eok?”   

      “Jolok bōd.  Ij jab malele.  I’m sorry.  I don’t understand,’ I responded.  She pointed at my stomach, so I wondered whether she was asking why I didn’t have kids of my own.  But by gesticulating and grabbing her own hips and belly, I finally realized she was asking me why I was so skinny.

“Kilep emmon,” Adina said. (It’s good to be big, I mentally translated.  “Inana aidik,” (It’s bad to be skinny).  Jamie had explained to me that in Majel culture, a little extra fat was a sign of wealth.  Men didn’t tend to be very big, as they did a lot of the physical labor and stayed quite active.  But once a woman had children, it was normal for her to fill out and have heftier curves.

“Ijab enañinmej,” I told her.  “I’m not sick.  Bwe ñan ṃōñā. (Bway ngon MUNG aye) I have plenty to eat.”

“Aet,” she smiled and nodded.  “Meester Shamie.”  Somehow just the mention of my husband was enough to reassure her that I was being taken care of and had adequate food. 

     I tried out more of my Marshallese on her, making Adina giggle effusively at my horrible pronunciation.  After a little bit, Adina got up of her mat and motioned for me to follow her.  “Itok,” she said, “Itōm ṃōñā.” (EE tom MUNG aye--Come and eat).  Despite Adina’s acceptance that I was being fed adequately, she didn’t see any harm in loading me up with additional calories.  She brought out some cold coconut rice and a can of tuna, and she, the kids, and I ate with our hands and laughed together. 

     Of course, partway through the visit, I made the mistake of remarking on how nice the mat was that she was making.  Before I left, she pressed a smaller version of the mat into my hands, about the size of a coaster—a little spiral of pandanus fronds with a ring of cowries around the outside.  I thanked her repeatedly, and then headed along to make a few more stops before turning back toward the clinic and house.

     At some point on my walk, I had what I thought was a fabulous idea.  There was no place on the island to escape from people.  It was as if the local children had a homing device that led them to anyone who wanted to be alone.  But there was one place I could strip down to a swimsuit and not worry about being seen—the iar!  If I went snorkeling, and removed my dress or shorts when I was out in the water, I could swim while the sun hit my back, and maybe I might even be able to float on my back long enough to do a little tanning for my front.  I’d quickly discovered that 15 minutes in direct sun without sunscreen was about all I needed to get a little bit of a pink glow that would darken into tan. I felt like a genius.

     When I got home around one, there was still no one waiting for me.  I drew water from the well to water my garden, where I ecstatically noted you could see little sprouts beginning to come up.  With one last check of the clinic, I wrote a little note—“Miss Peach etal iar.”

     I pulled on a bikini, then a sundress, hooking Jamie’s fish stringer to my bikini bottoms.  I grabbed my snorkel, mask, and fins, and headed out to the iar.  I even took along one of the fishing spears, thinking I might be able to catch dinner while I was at it.

     It truly felt like progress to be going snorkeling by myself, after the first time when I had clung desperately to Jamie’s hand.  This time, I quickly adjusted to the sparkly clicking sound, which Rupert had informed me was caused by some kind of coral shrimp scraping the coral, which sounded so close because water is a better conductor of sound than air.

     I looked around as I got farther away from shore.  Probably a mile or two away toward Arno Arno there was a boat being used by fishermen, but other than that I didn’t have any company at all.

     It was slightly complicated to pull off the sundress and then knot it to the fish stringer, but after that I put my mask and snorkel back on, making sure to twist my hair up in a knot so it wouldn’t cover my back, and then I swam around, trying to see if I could find any good coral outcroppings where I could catch some fish.  After about 15 minutes on my stomach, I tried to float on my back.  It was a much more complicated proposition, and wearing my mask would have been useful in keeping water out of my nose, but I didn’t want to have a weird mask tan.

     When I had reached my limit of back-floating, I turned back onto my stomach and did a little bit of spear fishing.  I certainly hadn’t gone a lot of times since the boys first took me, but my skills had definitely improved.  I chose my fish better, which resulted in fewer mangled specimens, and I was better at aiming, which meant a higher rate of success.  In another ten minutes, I’d speared seven really nice fish, hooked them onto the stringer through their gills, and then, putting my sundress back on, I headed back to our house.

     By the time I was home, it was getting close to three.  Salt water never felt good left on the skin, so I put the fish in a bucket of cool water, and took a cool shower, not bothering with boiling water. 

     I was quite proud of myself for catching dinner.  Now all I needed to do was get the coconut and we could have a traditional Marshallese meal.  I could also feel the glow of the absorbed sunshine on my back, and even on the fronts of my white thighs.  Whether or not Jamie loved my farmers’ tan, I actually had found a way to get rid of it!

     I scouted the yard, found a fallen mature coconut, and headed next door to Maria’s house with a bowl and the coconut.  Husking the coconut was far more challenging than Jamie or Maria made it look, but after several (okay, numerous) attempts, I finally got the coconut spike to pierce the husk, and I wrestled with it until I pulled the first chunk of husk away.  After that it got easier and easier, until I had a dark round coconut left, with just a few strands of husk attached. 

     The final step, of course, was to split the coconut.  I thought I probably should put the coconut on the ground to hit it with the machete, but I’d cut avocadoes in half in my hand for about forever, using a knife to pierce the seed, rotate, and then remove it.  So I grabbed the coconut in my left hand, grabbed the machete in the other, and with a deliberate hack, I hit the coconut.  Nothing happened.  I rotated the coconut in my hand, and tried again.  Again, nothing.  Finally, in frustration, I put the coconut on a flat rock, and swung at it with more force.  The coconut split, the machete glanced off the rock I’d set the coconut on, and in one slow, sickening moment, the rusty blade hit me on the left shin. 

      “Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed.  I dropped the machete, and limped away from Maria’s house, blood streaming down my leg. I wasn’t sad or hurting; I felt angrier than anything.  After being so proud of myself for solving my sun tanning problem, after catching dinner, and singlehandedly opening my coconut for rice, to injure myself made me furious. 

     The clinic door was thankfully unlocked. I grabbed a roll of gauze and a non-stick sterile pad, wrapping my leg tightly to see if I could staunch the blood flow to better inspect the wound.  The pain had taken a while to build up, but I definitely felt it now.

      “Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger! Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” I chanted as I got out my suture kit, numbing pad, and lidocaine syringe. “Damn, damn, damn!” I grab the pot of water and put it on the stove, then moved one of the chairs next to the examination table. It was going to be a bit of a stretch to have my leg up on the table and try to lean forward to give myself stitches to keep the edges of the wound together.

     A little knock on the door made me cringe, until I saw the curly red hair peeking through the screens at me.  “Are ye wi’ anyone?” Jamie asked.

      “No, it’s just me,” I said.  When he entered, he grinned at me.  Quickly assessing the situation, though: the blood on the floor, me on the chair by the exam table, my shin covered with a bloody gauze, and suddenly Jamie’s face looked very white. 

      “What happened?” he said, kindly patting my hip after coming to sit on the floor by my chair where my wound was out of sight.

      “Machete,” I explained simply.  “I was just getting ready to make coconut rice for dinner.  And I was     so proud of myself, too.  It’s really a bummer.”

     The tea kettle started steaming.

      “Can you help me, Jamie?” I asked.  “I need one of those basins, and I need you to fill the tea kettle the rest of the way with cold water.  I want to make sure this is clean before I stitch it up.”

     Given a task to do, Jamie seemed to overcome his squeamishness.  He poured the water over my leg as I held it over the basin, and I was relieved to see that despite the profuse amount of blood, the cut was only going to take four stitches to close.  When the time came for me to do the suturing, Jamie had to turn away, though, and he seemed very relieved once it was done and I was bandaged up.  He locked up the clinic for me, and helped me hobble back to our house.

     Once I was settled comfortably on the bed, Jamie proceeded to bring me water and prop up my leg with some pillows.  “So, Rupert and Angus have invited us to come to dinner tonight,” he said.  “You can rest for a couple of hours, and then we can head over there.”

      “Oh, I don’t think I really want to go,” I responded.  “Can we schedule dinner for another day?”

     Jamie looked strangely perturbed.  “We canna refuse the invitation of friends.”

      “If they’re friends,” I argued, “They’ll realize I nearly cut my leg off, and they’ll let us take a raincheck.”

      “Four stitches, Claire,” he said.  “I had eighteen, and I walked you home that night.”

      “Well, you were in love with me.  I’m not in love with Rupert and Angus. They’ll be fine with having us over another night.  Or just go by yourself.  It might be nice to have a little time with your buddies, and I might like some alone time, too.”

      “Dammit, Ripalle,” Jamie scolded. “Dinna be so selfish.  They’ve already gone to the effort to prepare a meal for us.  We’re going to Angus and Rupert’s and that’s final.”

     I stared at Jamie.  There was an odd air of desperation on his face.  I started to think that maybe he wasn’t ordering me just to be overbearing.  At the same time, I could see him visibly processing how things seemed to be going.

      “There’s a reason I want you to come, Claire.  Are ye afraid it will hurt your leg?  What if I carry you in a wagon or a wheelbarrow?  Or give you a piggy back ride?”

      “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said.  “I can make it to dinner just fine.  But I realized I haven’t taken anything.  Can you grab the acetaminophen bottle from the top of the dresser?  Maybe if I take a couple and rest for a little while, I’ll feel better by the time we head over.”

      “And we could just plan to stay the night,” Jamie suggested offhandedly, “So we wouldn’t have to walk back home in the dark.”

     I raised my eyebrows skeptically.  “Do you really think Angus and Rupert would be okay with us staying in their house for a night?”

      “Only if I promise on my honor not to have sex wi’ ye…” Jamie said, then added with a cheesy grin, “And I wouldna.  At least not very noisily…Though I canna make any promises about your volume.”

      “I only make a normal amount of noise during sex,” I said, frowning. 

      “If so,” Jamie said, “It would be very educational to discover what a ‘large amount’ sounds like.”

     The nap helped, as did the Tylenol, and by five o’clock, I felt ready to head out.  Jamie grabbed night clothes for me, and clothing for both of us for the next day, while I remained enthroned on the bed like an invalid. 

     And as we set out toward the school, I felt extremely curious about what awaited us.  

                          On to Chapter 3 : Hashtag Blessed The Scots make an effort to be culturally thoughtful for their American friend.

Chapter Notes:   My two co-teachers and I invented snorkelbathing to combat the massive farmers’ tans we were getting on the island.  We had tried slipping off to the beach somewhere between Ine and Matolen, but every time we peeled off our sundresses and lay down on our towels, like magic the local children would arrive, and at the sound of happy little voices approaching, we had to pull our dresses back on.

When snorkelbathing, getting your back tan was no trouble at all (we had to work to make sure we didn’t get too scorched—especially being as close to the equator as we were, 15 minutes was almost enough time to get a sunburn if you didn’t wear sunscreen).  Trying to tan your front was a much more challenging proposition.  Salt water up your nose and in your eyes doesn’t feel very good.  Ah, the price of beauty!

[rootbeergoddess]

Grant Against Protein Shakes

Grant’s wife has gained a bit of weight which makes him happy. However, his darling wife wants to do something horrible: lose weight! So what does he do? Get rid of her protein shakes. Thanks to fellow Rooker Hookers Lindsay and Ivy for helping me out! Like this story? Buy me a ko-fi. If you want a reader insert for yourself, you can also commission me! Send me a note or a message if you’re interested.

“Honey, have you seen my protein shakes?”

“No lovebug, haven’t seen them.”

That was a lie. A really big lie. Grant knew his mother would be rolling over in his grave if she knew he was lying but it was for a good cause. Well, he thought it was a good cause. The cause was making sure his wife didn’t lose her nice, thick figure.  Over the past years, Grant’s spouse had gotten bigger. Her breasts had become larger, her ass had become rounder and her legs thicker. She looked goddamn gorgeous but for some reason she didn’t see it. Ever seen she had ripped her favorite shirt, she was hellbent on losing weight. She wouldn’t go out to eat and replaced most of her meals with those disgusting protein shakes. If she kept this up, she’d lose all those lovely curves.

“Grant,” She looked at him. “Where are my shakes?”

“Don’t know sugarplum.”

“Did you take them again,” She asked, as she closed the fridge. “Are you hiding them?”

“Nope.”

“Grant,” She went over to him, trying to get him to look at her. “Where are my protein shakes?”

“I have no idea honeysuckle,” Grant took a sip of his coffee. “How about I take you to lunch?”

“Grant.”

“I’ll take you to Lucy’s.”

He saw his wife’s eyes lit up. Lucy’s was her favorite restaurant. They had this pasta dish she loved along with homemade pie. It was also the place where they had their first date.  He watched her mull the idea over in her head. He could tell he would have to sweeten the deal just a bit.

“And after that, I’ll take you to the mall so you can get that new dress to replace your old one,” He added, pulling her close. “You know, the red one?”

“I don’t know.”

“How about three dresses?” He pulled his wife into his arms. “How does that sound?”

“Well---okay. But only this once. I’ll go get changed.”

Grant smiled as his wife headed upstairs and then followed her. Inside their bedroom, he watched her take off her tank top and workout shorts. Once in her underwear, Grant took her all in. She was perfectly pudgy. Grant adored his wife. There wasn’t anyone like her. And he loved her new found curves. Entering the room, Grant came up behind her, placing his hands on her hips. He purred slightly as he kissed her neck.

“Grant, what are you doing?” She asked.

“Nothing.”

“Well stop doing nothing,” She pushed him away. “I’m trying to get ready.”

She tried to move away but Grant pulled her back. She was pressed against him, her nice, new tits squished against him. He grinned and grabbed her ass, making her jump.

“God, there is so much to squeeze,” Grant’s voice went low. “So much to touch.”

“What are you talking about?” She asked.

“Darling, you look fantastic,” He said, licking his lips. “God, your clothing has gotten nice and tight. It shows off your ass, your tits, your stomach. I love it.”

“You---do?” She sounded shocked.

“Yeah,” Grant started kissing her neck. “I just love how thick you’ve become.”

“So that is why my shakes have gone missing,” She backed away. “You did take them! You’ve been trying to keep me fat haven't you?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag now.

“Yeah,” Grant kissed her hand. “Darling, don’t be sore at me. I love the way you look! And you’re so warm and soft! Please stay this way? Please?”

Grant watched his wife stare at him. She didn’t look mad which was a relief. The look she wore seemed more interested than upset.

“Hm,” She said. “I’ll have to think about it. I’ll consider it over lunch.”

Grant whimpered as she walked away. His cock was straining against his slacks. He regretted promising her lunch now. He wanted to fuck right there, right now. But he did promise her he’d take her to Lucy’s. He was a man of his word. Sighing, he sat down on the bed and waited. When she came out, Grant thought he would die. She was wearing an old dress of hers, one he liked. It was a strapless dress with a sweetheart neckline and a pencil skirt. It hugged her curves, making her look amazing. She knew this. Grant could tell by the way she smiled, his wife knew she looked good.

“You’re not playing fair.” He mumbled.

“You cheated first,” She replied. “Now come on. I think someone promised me lunch.”

Grant had always been a hands-on type of man.

He loved to touch you. You would wake up with his arms around your waist. When he came home from work, he’d pick you up in his strong arms and twirl you around. Even if you were just sitting at home doing nothing, in particular, he’d hold your hand and kiss it. Grant was a man who liked to touch his woman.

Even in public.

He wasn’t lying about liking your new body. Grant kept touching you every chance he got. In the car, he reached over and squeezed your thighs. Once out of the car, you felt him grab your ass. This normally would have annoyed you but it felt nice. Gaining weight was part of life. You weren’t really bothered by it until you realized your old clothing wouldn’t fit anymore. With your clothes no longer able to fit you, you were scared of how people saw you.

Seeing Grant marvel at your body, however, put those fears to rest.

“Sugarplum, c’mon,” Grant pleaded. “Just a small taste.”

“Absolutely not! You’re being punished for lying to me,” You said with a smirk. “If you’re good, then you can worship my glorious body.”

You pushed your bottom back against his pants and you felt his erection. He whimpered when you moved.  Turning to look at him, you motioned him to follow. Grant, like an obedient dog, obeyed.

For lunch, you ordered your favorite dish; lobster pasta with a three cheese sauce. For dessert, you treated yourself to some fresh huckleberry pie. Grant barely ate anything seeing as how he was so focused on you. Plus, during lunch, you used your foot to rub against his cock. It took all his willpower not to moan.

After lunch, Grant tried to jump you in the car but you reminded him about his promise of dresses.

“What if I buy you a whole new wardrobe if you let me have you now?” He asked.

“Really? New dresses, new shoes, new shirts?” You asked, tugging at his tie.

“Yes! Everything! I’ll buy you whatever you want if you just let me fuck you!”

“That’s a good boy,” You purred, tickling his chin. “I guess I’ll forgive you for now. Take me home and you can have your reward.”

You were thankful that you didn’t live too far away because you were pretty sure Grant would have caused an accident. He sped home, almost going through a red light. God, he was so pathetic when he got horny. It was like all he could think about was fucking. When you reached home, Grant pulled you inside the house and slammed the door before kissing you. His hands started grabbing at your dress, trying to get it off.

“Calm down,” You pushed his hands away. “C’mon, upstairs.”

Grant followed you up to the bedroom. Once there, you moved your hair out of the way so he could unzip your dress.

“Finally,” Grant groaned. “Oh darling, you’re so cruel.”

“Says the man who's been throwing away my protein shakes.”

“You don’t need them,” Grant wrapped his arms around you. “Oh baby, you don’t need them at all! You’re perfect.”

“So you like your girls nice and big?” You asked.

“No, I like you nice and big,” He replied.

“Good answer,” You said, unbuttoning his shirt. “You better keep good on that promise.”

“I will sugarplum,” He eyed your body. “God, I can’t get over how gorgeous you look.”

Smiling, you removed his shirt and pushed him onto the bed. Glancing down, you saw the massive bulge in his pants. Typical. With a small grin, you sat on him so your ass would rub against his cock. Grant hissed before moaning. Wow, this really was too easy. You considered teasing him more but he probably couldn’t take it. You got off him.

“Get rid of the pants.” You commanded.

Grant wasted no time. He quickly stood up, removed his belt and then pulled down his pants. Then, you placed yourself on the bed. Keeping eye contact with him, you motioned at him to go to the edge of the bed. He placed himself at your feet and you felt his cool hands massaging you. You could get used to the constant body worshiping. He placed a small kiss on top of your foot before moving upwards. His fingers dragged along your leg as he peppered kisses up your body.

When he reached your stomach, Grant sighed happily and leaned against it. What was so sexy about a chubby belly you didn’t really understand but Grant? He was loving it. He rubbed your belly, kissing it softly like it was delicate. He ran his tongue along your skin as he continued to kiss it. It felt nice. Maybe you would keep the belly too. What would be the harm in it?

When Grant reached your breast, you heard a whine. Oh, you were still wearing your bra.

“Hm, maybe I’ll keep it on.” You said.

Grant whined again, looking at you with his large, round puppy dog eyes. Ugh, too cute. You hated those baby blues of his sometimes. You undid the clasp and removed the bra, only to have Grant grab it with his teeth. Growling like a dog, he shook it around.

“Who's a good boy?” You asked. “Is it you?”

Grant growled before throwing the bra aside. He stared down at your breasts, licking his lips like a hungry animal. You watched him as he placed his head squarely between them.

“Having fun down there?”

“Yep.”

Grant smiled at you before motorboating your tits. You laughed as he started massaging your breasts. When he rubbed one of your nipples, you moaned. He started to rub your other nipple, making you moan more. Grant continued to rub until both nipples were nice and hard. Then, he grabbed one of your breasts and brought the nipple to his mouth. He began to suck and you groaned.

“Oh Grant,” You said. “That feels amazing.”

Grant made a happy noise as he continued to suck. He paid special attention to your nipple, making it hard. He ran his tongue around it before sucking it back into his mouth. His fingers continued to play with your other nipple, making sure it was also erect. Once it was, Grant started sucking on the other one. Again, you moaned loudly as his talented tongue lavished love on your nipple. He stopped sucking only for a second and then suddenly pushed your breasts together. Then, he started sucking on both your nipples.

“Oh! Oh Grant!” You sighed.

Grant continued to suck, using his tongue on your nipples. Grant released the nipples with a resounding pop, only to run his tongue over them.

“God, they’re so damn big,” He said. “They’re perfect baby.”

“So you like big things? You know, there’s another thing that is big on me. It’s perfect for spanking.”

Grant grinned and got up. Smiling at him, you turned around. You wiggled your ass, making Grant’s grin grow. When he slapped your rear, you squealed.

“Oh yeah,” Grant pulled your panties down. “Perfect for spanking.”

Grant quickly removed his briefs and grabbed his cock. He reached down, opening you up with your fingers. Already, you were dripping. He licked his lips before sliding into you.

“Oh Grant!” You moaned.

“Oh fuck,” Grant grabbed at your hips. “Oh fuck, baby you feel good.”

Grant start thrusting with a steady pace. His hands gripped at your nice, soft hips and he dug his fingers deep into your flesh as he rammed you. One hand wandered upwards and he grabbed your breasts. He nipped at your neck, sucking at your flesh. At that moment, you decided you were done with dieting. There was no way you were losing this body. It was perfect for Grant so it was perfect for you.

And it was perfect for fucking.

When your first orgasm rocked your body, you thought was that was the end of it. To your surprise, Grant turned you over on your back and ate you out with gusto. After orgasm three, you had to push him away only for him to fuck you again. After five, you started losing count of how many times you came that night.

“Are you a fucking robot or something?” You asked when Grant finally pulled out.

“Beep boop, I’m the Fuck-a-Tron 5000! My mission to fuck my sexy wife!” Grant said in a fake robot voice.

You burst out laughing as Grant smiled down at you.

“You’re a dork.”

“You know you love me.”

“Yes but you’re still a dork.”

“A dork you married.”

“That does not change the fact that you are the dorkiest dork to ever live.”

“This dork still got you to be his wife,” Grant purred, kissing you. “And this dork is never going to let you lose this sexy body.”

“Guess that means no more protein shakes.”

“The only shakes you can have are the double chocolate ones down at the diner.”

“With extra whipped cream?”

“Whatever keeps you loveable and chubby.”

@rookerstash , @yondu-gonna-do-about-it , @allhailkingrooker51 , @lucifers-trash-stash , @babelincolns, @missmendelsohn, @socktrollqueen, @the-galaxy-savers  

[dragonagitator]

ahhhHHH everyone on tumblr seems to be into having gale be the submissive one im so glad im not alone in wanting to sub for him LMFAOOOO

Dom!Gale truthers unite! There are dozens of us! Dozens!

Dude literally has an origin line about how he wants to become a god because he's always liked the idea of being worshipped, adored, and obeyed, so I have no idea where people are getting the idea that he's a submissive.

[madewithonerib]

Spirit of Disciplines P1,2,3 | Dallas Willard [Matthew 28:16-20]

     It is about How GOD changes lives, but when I speak       about disciplines & GOD changing lives:

          I mean by that precisely what           The Great Commission is.

     I refer to us coming to the place, where we naturally.

     And of course supernaturally—but you understand      what I mean when I say naturally.

          We naturally do the things that JESUS taught,           as a natural outflow of our lives.

     To me that is what it means to have a life changed,      by the power of the Gospel.

The Great Commission

           Matthew 28:16-20 | Meanwhile, the 11 disciples            went to Galilee, to the mountain JESUS had            designated. When they saw HIM, they            worshiped HIM, but some doubted.

           Then JESUS came to them & said,

           “All authority in heaven & on earth has been            given to ME. Therefore go & make disciples of            all nations, baptizing them in the name of the            FATHER, & of the SON, & of the HOLY SPIRIT,            & teaching them to obey all that I have            commanded you.

           And surely I am with you always,            to the very end of the age.”

1.] And the SPIRIT of the disciplines, as I explain in the book,      is the love of JESUS.

          I mean admiration, adoration.           A genuine high regard for JESUS.

     To think well of HIM, to believe that HE is it.      HE is it.

     Now you remember what JESUS said in John 14,

          John 14:15 | If you love ME,           you will keep MY commandments.

    >> The love of JESUS = the Spirit of the disciplines

     Because those who love HIM, stay with HIM, to learn      how to do what HE taught.

     They believe that it is good.      They believe that it is right. That it is healthy.      That it is wonderful, that is the way we were meant to exist;      as human beings under GOD in GOD’s world.

1a] They believe that & they love HIM.

          And because they love HIM,           they stay with HIM as HIS disciples to learn from HIM.

     You see that’s the most obvious thing in the world isn’t it?

     If you admire & love some great writer/musician, & you      hear they’re coming to town.

     You would want to be with them wouldn’t you?

     Sometimes people will give what is called masterclasses,      & everyone, people want to be with them.

1b] And in starting out this morning, I just want to tell you what       I am as a disciple of JESUS.

          What is a disciple of JESUS?

          As HIS disciple, I am with HIM learning to be like HIM.           And that’s the general pattern of discipleship.

          I am learning from HIM how to lead my life.

          As HE would lead my life, if HE were I.

          I am learning from HIM.           As HE would lead my life, if HE were I.

          I’m not learning to lead HIS life, HE’s already done that.

          And that wouldn’t really be useful.           I need to lead my life, with all its limitations & advantages,           that’s my place that GOD has appointed me here.

          Now I need to learn from JESUS how to lead this life           I’ve been given—as HE would live my life, if HE were I.

     That is discipleship, that is the opportunity that we have      as disciples of JESUS.

2.] Then we began to understand what life is really like.

     St. Irenaeus, over 18 centuries ago had this to say:

          “the glory of GOD is a human being that is fully alive.”

     He had captured the idea of salvation, in JESUS CHRIST,      that is present in the Scriptures & flows down through the ages.

     Because as we say very commonly, salvation is eternal life,      don’t we? And what is eternal life?

     Well eternal life is a quality of living.

     It isn’t something that a little Presbyterian girl, some years back      wrote a book called, “O Ye Jigs & Juleps,” where she wrote

          Eternal life is something that happens to you           after you die & whether you want it or not.

2a] Eternal life is a quality of life that begins now.

          As we through faith in JESUS, take our lives into           the kingdom of GOD—in reliance upon HIM.

          Through the redemption that is in HIM.

     My friend Trevor Hudson, down in Sourth Africa, explains      whatever else these words may mean.

     The kernel of this insight is above all about aliveness.

     Coming alive to the sheer wonder of our beloved-ness      in GOD’s eyes, becoming aware of the sacredness & depth      of ordinary life. Alerting ourselves to the hidden tentacles      of evil within & around us.

     Becoming responsive, to the sufferings of our neighbours.

     And above all, waking up to the always available presence      of the crucified & risen CHRIST.

     Alive & at large throughout the world.

          Who invites us today to be HIS followers,           wherever we are.

     That the life of CHRIST would be in us, wherever we may be.

2b] And the natural expression of that in action, in emotion,       in thought, in worship..in all the ways that we associate       with eternal life—as the life of GOD, is the natural outcome       of following JESUS.

     This is a wonderful statement from our brother, John Westley

          A man came to him in deep depression, & said to him:

         “I hear that you preach something that is helpful.           What do you preach?”

         JW: “I do preach to as many who desires to hear, every          night & morning, you ask what would I do them? I would          make them virtuous & happy. Easy in themselves, &          useful to others. Whether I would lead them to heaven,          to GOD the judge, the lover of all.

              JESUS the mediator               of the new covenant.

         What religion do I preach? The religion of love.”

         The law of kindness, brought to light, through the Gospel.

         Man: “What is it good for?”

         {I just love Westley’s common sense.}

         JW: “To make all who receive it, enjoy GOD in themselves.          To make them like GOD, lovers of all, contented in their          lives & crying out at their death, in calm assurance:

            Oh grave where is thy sting, thanks be to GOD,             who giveth me the victory in my LORD JESUS CHRIST.”

     That is a picture that I believe we could bring today to      our streets & homes, & wherever we are—this same picture      of what JESUS CHRIST brings us—in the WORD of the       Gospel, & in HIS living person.

     Who has been through the cross, on our behalf.

     And has been raised up, & now we are raised up with HIM.

2c] Paul says, if HE be risen with CHRIST, then seek those       things which are above—where CHRIST sits on the       right hand of GOD.

     In other words, set your affections on things which are above,      not on things that are on the earth.

          For you are dead, &           your life is HIS with CHRIST. ****

     When CHRIST, who is your life should appear, then shall you      also appear with HIM, glorious.

     It’s a common theme of the NT.

     That we have no idea what we are.

[nerdyskeleton]

Consider.... blackmadhi angst esp 5 14 & 15 :3c ALSO I WOKE UP AT 3AM LAST NIGHT AND ALL I COULD THINK OF WAS SIMON N NAHYUTA WATCHING TOY STORY 3 AND NAHYUTA CRYING AND SIMONS JUST LIKE ???¿¿¿?¿?¿¿???? HCHCHCHDCJDVS

I REFUSE to consider those it’s too sad

JK LET’S DO THIIIIIIIIS

5. “How funny. You thought I cared.”

The words taste foul. “How funny. You thought I cared.” There is nothing funny about this.Simon hates himself just that much more. But what he hates the most is the fact that Nahyuta’s expression doesn’t change after he says it. Nahyuta is staring at him, unblinking and unmoving. He finally backs off so that the tension leaves his body.

“Thank you for saying what we were both thinking,” Nahyuta finally murmurs. “I struggled to find the proper words to tell you that.” He sounds like when they first met during that theatrical turnabout.

One mighty shiver prickles like a hundred ants crawling on Simon’s skin. He doesn’t mean it, not for a moment - he hadn’t felt this way with someone in so long. Nahyuta seems to be telling the truth. though. Oh God. What is going on?

The monk moves away further. “This is the perfect opportunity, then, to air out my grievances. If we are admitting everything, I will tell you now I have never had any intention of letting this carry on as it has. But you were clingy and pitiful, and who was I to reject you, just as the last one did?”

Simon flinches. He was only rejected because the last one had been dead for years.

“I personally feel,” Nahyuta carries on, voice growing harder and steelier, “you have always been a rather fascinating experiment of mine. I had to know how far you, Simon Blackquill the Twisted Samurai, could be seduced, especially if you were so easy that first night. You’re so touch starved, Simon, even now you’re reaching out to me.”

He’s right - Simon’s hand was poised to cup at Nahyuta’s cheek, like he often did. Nahyuta’s gentle hand pushes away Simon’s, and he wonders if this will be the last time they touch.

But no, Nahyuta reaches to kiss him, soft yet devoid of any love or adoration he once poured into him. It is both the best and worst kiss of Simon Blackquill’s life. Nahyuta leaves the office, and Simon knows it’s over.

more angst under the cut!!!!

14. “You’re so determined to protect yourself and your feelings, but what about me?”

“You obviously only care about yourself! ”

The rosary snaps in a dazzling, slow motion flurry as it always does. The beads clatter to the floor, rolling to knock into Simon’s boots. He stands just a few feet away from Nahyuta, looking annoyed and almost desperate. Nahyuta wants to smack that look off of his face.

Simon takes a deep breath and tries again, “I did not mean…exactly that.”

Nahyuta tenses violently. “And what were you trying to say?”

“Only that…you struggle with-”

“I will stop you there, Simon,” he says as he takes his earrings out. He throws them across the room. It feels so good. “You will either apologize or this conversation will end.”

The man squares his big broad shoulders. “Pardon me?”

“You heard what I said. I would give you the option of obeying, but there is none.” He peels off his jacket, growing warm with wrath. “Who are you to speak to me like that?”

Without warning, Simon shouts, “You’re so determined to protect yourself and your feelings, but what about me?”

“What about you?” Nahyuta shoots back, just as loud. “Does being by my side for less than half a year give you some higher status?”

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” He’s looking at Nahyuta like he’s a moron, and Ga’ran used to give him the same look. He sees the same look in Rayfa’s face, and he doesn’t know how to tell her that.

“Of course I have.”

“You are too used to being worshiped it seems, Sad Monk. You cannot seriously ask ‘what about you,’ as if my…feelings do not matter.”

Nahyuta wants to salvage whatever is left of their strange relationship, so he refrains from saying that they don’t.

“You merely do not understand what I have been through, Simon. My despicable aunt has-”

“Ga’ran has been gone for months. You are barricading yourself into a fortress she vacated for the ability to say and do as you please. She gave you unimaginable power, and you want it back.”

“How dare you?”

“If you would perhaps like to work on both your shoddy communication and surprisingly terrible personality from when we next see each other, be my guest.” He turns his head, looking smug and awful. “Otherwise, we will not see each other again.”

15. “You betrayed me!”

(bless

@mesa-verde

for the idea for this holy shit)

Simon throws Nahyuta’s office door open. The monk braces himself for what is to come. He can tell that Simon is about ready to hurt someone.

Nahyuta is vaguely afraid. “I had to tell her.”

“And forfeit immediately all trust I had in you?” he growls.

“I cannot keep a secret like that. He tortured you, Simon. Athena had to know at some point. She would find out eventually.”

“As if the pity I see in your face wasn’t enough to have to stomach! And now every time Athena looks at me, what else can she think about?” he shouts, finally snapping. “Who else would you like to inform? Who else would like to know about the Phantom’s sadistic shock collar?” He slams the door shut, finally stepping into the room. Nahyuta tries to back away subtly.

“I have the collar. Did you know that? Would you like to see how it works on me, Nahyuta?”

“Do not suggest such a thing.”

“I merely ask as you are so set on harming me further!” Simon’s voice has risen by the time he reaches the end of his sentence. Shutting the door would do nothing for them in the end, as the whole prosecutor’s office would end up hearing this monster of a fight.

“I never meant to hurt you,” Nahyuta finally says as calmly as he can. “Athena is your best friend, and you tell each other everything, so-”

“You cannot possibly try to explain away your actions, Sad Monk. The damage is irreparable. You have broken your promise to remain silent, and I will not stand by as you try to gain it back with your Regent Voice.” He turns to leave.

“What did Athena say to you?”

Simon does not answer and pulls on the door handle.

“Blackquill!” Nahyuta barks, standing and throwing his pen to the desk. “Answer me.”

“I owe you nothing. I never have, and thanks to your thoughtless actions, I never will.”

okay so uh……glad I got that out of my system……I feel so sad now in the computer lab at school……..

SO THEY’RE WATCHING TOY STORY 3 RIGHT?? literally though Nahyuta is me I honestly cry at the mention of that movie. Maybe Athena was talking about her favorite kid movies (the first one would have been ancient by the time she was a child but whatever) and Nahyuta wants to know what everyone’s talking about, since he most of the time doesn’t? So they marathon all three, and it’s very late, and Nahyuta is still on a high from how great Toy Story 2 is, he was NOT EXPECTING to be so destroyed by the third one???

And you’re right Simon is so confused like “wait I knew Athena sobbed at this part but you as well????” He does his best to comfort him, but like when a grown ass king regent is sobbing about having giving away all of his childhood toys it’s pretty hard to find words of comfort. Especially for emotionally stunted Simon over here.

Hey thanks for sending these in though!! I hope you liked them!!! It hurt me a lot tbh!!!!

[ismael37olson]

The Simple Joys of Maindenhood

One of the things that always bothers me is any production of Camelot in which Guenevere is played all sweet and virginal, or in other words, like Julie Andrews played her in the original production. The truth is that Guenevere can be a real bitch from time to time, and I think that's what's most interesting about her -- and what directors and actors miss most often. Without that, the story is far less interesting.

In many cases, original Broadway performances are reliable guides to what the writers wanted. But not always. And not in this case. Andrews had a great voice in her youth, and genuine stage presence, but she was never a very good or very nuanced actor. Guenevere, as she is written by Alan Jay Lerner, is rebellious, immature (at least in Act I), horny, and blood-thirsty! Maybe she's just a product of her times, but she loves violence (see her song, "Then You May Take Me to the Fair"); and her immaturity and restlessness will lead to a lot of needless destruction. Guenevere herself is Arthur's great tragic flaw. Julie Andrews ruined the character with her bland, sexless original performance on Broadway, and more significantly, on the original cast recording. Vanessa Redgrave understood the character much more fully in her film performance, but she was such a mediocre singer, it's hard to get through her songs. Compare Andrews' and Redgrave's opposite approaches to "The Lusty Month of May." Redgrave (with the help of more languorous orchestrations) really enjoys the words lusty and depraved, and in her hands, it's a song about fucking. In Andrews' rendition, it's just polite double entendre. In her first appearance in the show, Guenevere tells us in her "I Am" song that she is a trouble-maker. She wants men to fight over her. She wants them to kill each other over her. How can we be surprised when everything blows up in Act II? Camelot's first two songs introduce two of our three leads, and both as complete neurotics, totally ill-equipped to be married. Of course their marriage will fail. We see in these two opening numbers that they are very immature. Then again, Arthur is only 25 and Guenevere only 17 when they meet. A close look at the lyric of "Simple Joys of Maidenhood" tells us so much about Guenevere. Alan Jay Lerner has packed so much information into this song, all the while surprising us with punch line after punch line. Guenevere starts the song by calling St. Genevieve, apparently her personal patron saint. But Guenevere has to remind the saint who she is; Guenevere doesn't pray a lot. Yet only a couple lines later, she's purporting to be so devout. Right off the bat, we see that she's a liar. She says she's always been a "lamb," but we'll soon see that's not true either. She lets her anger take over and she rages at St. Genevieve, complaining about the details of her current situation, and finally -- and hilariously -- threatening to find another saint to pray to.

St. Genevieve, St. Genevieve! It's Guenevere! Remember me? St. Genevieve, St. Genevieve! I'm over here Beneath this tree... You know how faithful and devout I am, You must admit I've always been a lamb, But Genevieve, St. Genevieve -- I won't obey you anymore. You've gone a bit too far! I won't be bid and bargained for Like beads at a bazaar. St. Genevieve, I've run away, Eluded them and fled, And from now on, I intend to pray To someone else instead!

It is interesting to note Guenevere's 20th century objections to being medievally objectified. But then Guenevere decides maybe offense is a bad tack to take. If she wants rescue, she'd better be nicer to her patron saint...

Oh Genevieve, St. Genevieve, Where were you when my youth was sold? Dear Genevieve, sweet Genevieve, Shan't I be young before I'm old?

So she goes on to catalog the "conventional, ordinary, garden variety joys of maidenhood" that she's been robbed of, that she wants restored to her. And what are those simple, ordinary perks of being a teenage girl? A knight committing suicide over her. Two knights battling over her and one of them being killed. A war being waged over her, and of course, the unstated but obvious death and bloodshed that accompanies war. And finally, the best perk she imagines is not only men killing each other over her, but men killing their relatives over her.

Where are the simple joys of maidenhood? Where are all those adoring, daring boys? Where's the youth pining so for me He leaps to death in woe for me? Oh, where are a maiden's simple joys? Shan't I have the normal life a maiden should? Shall I never be rescued in the wood? Shall two knights never tilt for me And let their blood be spilt for me? Oh, where are the simple joys of maidenhood? Shall I not be on a pedestal, Worshipped and competed for? Not be carried off, or better still, Cause a little war? Where are the simple joys of maidenhood? Are those dear gentle pleasures gone for good? Shall a feud not begin for me? Shall kith not kill their kin for me? Oh, where are the trivial joys, Harmless convivial joys, Where are the simple joys of maidenhood?

That is fucked up. She has a freakish lust for violence and for bloodshed, in complete opposition to everything Arthur believes in. The central joke of the song is that all this extreme violence seems to Guenevere just the "trivial," "simple" fun of being a girl. She is actually insulted shortly afterward because Arthur won't rape her. But that lust for violence will come back to haunt her. She has no idea what she's asking for... She sees war as romantic. She’s delighted when Arthur tells her war would have broken out if they had not married. But at the end of the show, her shallow wishes come true, with deadly results. In “Guenevere,” the chorus sings:

Guenevere, Guenevere, In that dim, mournful year, Saw the men she held most dear Go to war for Guenevere.

She got her war. And it's destroyed everything Arthur built.

In addition to her bloodlust, Guenevere is also far more over-sexed than your average musical theatre ingenue. Too often directors and actors overlook her very sexual behavior. They've spent years hearing Julie Andrews' delicate, lady-like singing on the original cast album and they ignore the actual evidence in the script and score. They want to be reverent with her character because she's a queen and because ultimately she becomes a tragic figure, and perhaps also because they see Camelot as a "classic." But even a cursory look at "The Lusty Month of May" shows the real Guenevere. The title of the song says it all. It's an explicit celebration of sex, of unbridled, wicked, improper, un-wholesome, shocking sexual acts. Guenevere thinks every girl wants her boyfriend to be a cad, that self-control is a bore, that going morally astray is blissful.

Tra la, it's May, the lusty Month of May! That lovely month when everyone goes blissfully astray. Tra la, it's here, That shocking time of year, When tons of wicked little thoughts merrily appear. It's May, it's May, that gorgeous holiday, When every maiden prays that her lad Will be a cad It's mad, it's gay, a libelous display! Those dreary vows that everyone takes, Everyone breaks, Everyone makes Divine mistakes, The lusty month of May!

The fragrance she smells wafting through the air is the smell of sex, make no mistake, that "dear forbidden fruit." But what does this tell us? That Guenevere and Arthur are hopelessly mismatched. In the novel, White says "She had felt respect for [Arthur], with gratitude, kindness, love, and a sense of protection. She had felt more than this and you might say that she had felt everything but the passion of romance." Guenevere just wants fun. No responsibility, no morality, no expectations. She's still an over-sexed -- and long repressed -- teenager.

It's May, the lusty month of May, That darling month when everyone throws self-control away. It's time to do A wretched thing or two And try to make each precious day one you'll always rue.

Her idea of a good time is to do something awful you'll regret. Wow.

It's May, it's May, the month of "Yes, you may;" The time for every frivolous whim, Proper or im-. It's wild, it's gay, depraved in every way. The birds and bees with all of their vast Amorous past, Gaze at the human race aghast! The lusty month of May!

Guenevere is all about appetite. After this song, can we be surprised when she eventually has an affair? Can Arthur be surprised? Or does he just close his eyes to this problem? Arthur needs Guenevere before he can be the king he needs to be. It isn't until he meets her that he feels kingly, that he at last wants to be a king. She is his muse. But she's also a selfish bitch (at least in Act I). Look at her initial comments to Lancelot when she first meets him. She's sarcastic and insulting. Is that proper behavior for the Queen of England to someone the King brings to court? And even though she knows how much Arthur thinks of Lancelot, she keeps criticizing Lance over and over. She doesn't even attempt to be kind to him, to try to understand him, to help him feel welcome. In a sense, she's performing for the knights and ladies around her, entertaining them with her thinly veiled jibes at Lance. But also, we can see she's attracted to him -- and acting like a lust-struck thirteen-year-old. Later on, she helps build sentiment against Lance in the court by gossiping with the knights and ladies. She gives three knights her kerchief to carry against Lancelot in the jousts. And it's with this act that she tries to make her vicious childhood fantasies come true. At last she sees an opportunity for her dreams of knights fighting over her to come true. There will not only be battles; there may well be bloodshed. She knows Arthur will never deliver those fantasies. He thinks fighting is immoral unless it's to promote righteousness. Not only is Arthur not the lover she had hoped for, he's also not the warrior she dreamed of. They are mismatched in every conceivable way. Yet, when the jousts happen, when her fantasies are at last made reality, the result is tragedy. Lionel is killed by Lancelot. Finally, the death of which she dreamed has come to pass, and she suddenly realizes what she's done. She has indirectly killed a man, and not just any man, but a friend of hers, one of her favorite knights. And then the "obligatory moment," that moment in any story toward which everything before it leads and from which everything after it follows, the moment that the story cannot exist without. Lancelot steps forward, bends down, prays, and he brings Lionel back to life. We see for the first time that his claims of purity, his claims that he can perform miracles are actually true. When he rises, his eyes lock into Guenevere's, and we realize in an instant that they have fallen in love.

Perhaps Guenevere already found him physically attractive (in the novel, Lance is ugly, but in the musical, he's hot). But he's accomplished two things. First, he has saved her from her folly; he has brought back to life the knight her immature schemes had killed. Second, he has fought for her and he has won. He is the greatest knight in the court, probably in all Europe, and she sees now that he loves her, no doubt with the same passion with which he loves Arthur and the Table. How can she resist? As Queen, she should resist, but she won't. And later we will see the difference between Lance and Arthur. Whereas Arthur's love for this Table outshines his love for Guenevere, Lance clearly loves Guenevere more (or at least as much). Following her beautifully crafted arc, it's also interesting to hear how Guenevere's music gets more complex, both melodically and harmonically, over the course of the show, as she matures, as she becomes a more complex individual, and finds herself in progressively more complex situations. "Simple Joys of Maidenhood" is the song of a girl. "I Loved You Once in Silence" in Act II is the song of a woman.

I loved you once in silence, And mis'ry was all I knew; Trying so to keep my love from showing, All the while not knowing You loved me too. Yes, loved me in lonesome silence, Your heart filled with dark despair; Thinking love would flame in you forever, And I'd never, never Know the flame was there. Then one day we cast away our secret longing; The raging tide We held inside Would hold no more. The silence at last was broken; We flung wide our prison door. Ev'ry joyous word of love was spoken, And now there's twice as much grief, Twice the strain for us, Twice the despair, Twice the pain for us As we had known before. And after all had been said, Here we are, my love, Silent once more, And not far, my love, From where we were before.

In other words, be careful what you wish for. Especially if it entails harm to others. Guenevere has grown up now, but it's too late, and events are overtaking her.

Having directed the show myself for New Line in 1999, I'll admit that Camelot is a flawed show, to be sure, but still a very good one. There is so much more richness and nuance than most productions find. And as with most musicals, audiences find it very hard to distinguish between a bad show and a bad production of a good show. As long as some directors (and way too many in NYC) think they can turn their brains off to direct a musical, we'll get bland and shallow productions of shows that deserve better (I'm lookin' at you Casey Nicholaw!). If directors and actors would just pay musicals the same respect they pay to Death of a Salesman and A Midsummer Night's Dream, maybe audiences would get more productions that do justice to the material, and they'd discover that even a show with flaws, like Camelot, can still be serious and powerful and truthful. And that's all audiences want. Just tell them a story that tells the truth. Long Live the Musical! Scott from The Bad Boy of Musical Theatre http://newlinetheatre.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-simple-joys-of-maindenhood.html

[dragonagitator]

if anything gales a switch in my opinion? i TOTALLY get him being dominant though like YEAHHHH let that all out after having to keep in in for so long, poor boy 🥺 but I feel like hes also a hardcore switch LMAO

I do enjoy the dominant idea though I mean....... like yeah. please gale 🙏

I feel like Gale would switch if that's what it took to please his partner because he cares more about that than specific BDSM roles, but I also feel like if he were imagining a perfect partner/relationship without anyone specific in mind then he would want a partner who would submit to him. But like as a secret guilty desire that he's a little ashamed about.

My reason for believing that is we only get the line about Gale always liking the idea of being "worshipped, adored, obeyed" in a Gale origin playthrough. AFAIK he never says anything like that to our PC when we romance him, as if he's worried that he might scare us off if he disclosed his darker fantasies.

It would likely be a long, slow, and delightfully fun process to get Gale to admit to and then indulge in his darker fantasies. One of those relationships that just keeps getting kinkier and kinkier over time.

(Sorry for the slow response, I just found my Tumblr Inbox lol.)