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#so it was way too detailed for me to get into everything but it started with him being sad and like not wanting to speak to anyone
loserdiaz · 8 hours
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I've been listening to the prophecy by taylor and i have thoughts, so bare with me on this one.
some people might look at this thing like a superpower, like something cool to trick people with or scare the shit out of them.
tommy thinks of it more as a curse than anything else. a punishment from above— maybe he's done awful, terrible things in some pasts lives and now he's paying the consequences.
truth is, he doesn't know. he can guess, can try to feel his way through the dark like a lost, blind man, but he's probably never gonna know why he is the way he is, why he can see the things he sees.
it started around the time he was nine, he thinks. when he went to hug her grandma, and suddenly he had this vision— like a short movie playing in his head, of how his grandma would die.
tommy hugged her and then there it was in his mind, he could hear her heartbeat and saw her laying in bed, so calm and at peace in her sleep, when her heart slowly stops.
tommy remembers crying out, screaming, pulling away from her in fear, much to the confusion of everyone in his family. his grandma was okay! she was right there! no one believed him when he told them what he saw, what he felt.
(nana june died that very night, in her sleep. just like tommy predicted.)
tommy realized pretty quickly that this was not something he could share with anyone else. not when he ran into his teacher at the grocery store three weeks later and saw how the woman would die in a tragic car crash in just a couple of weeks. not when he kissed a boy for the very first time when he was sixteen and saw he would die from a freak accident at a football game, of all places— a fatal hit to the head would be the end of a life cut too short.
his life became a swirl of death and fear and loneliness.
he pulled away from everyone. what was the point anyway? if he knew the end of their stories? why get atta hed, get close, when he knew the specific details of their deaths and would have to bare that weight on his shoukders all on his own?
(he made the mistake once of falling in love when he was in college. with matthew— a guy who would die of old age, at ninety-five years old. at home, holding the hand of his husband... that was definitely noy tommy.
it was okay. he figured he could have some fun and enjoy whatever time he could. but it only earned him a broken heart and matthew calling him a freak when tommy explained why he couldn't say i love you to him, why he couldn't truly commit.
he has trusted matthew with his deepest secret, with this curse that tommy has no other choice but to live with it. and it ended up in tears and half the campus thinking he was a psycho.)
since then, tommy vowed to never make that mistake again. to keep his distance with people.
and he's been successful, for the most part. he has some friends, of course, but he doesn't let his relationships get too deep, keeping everyone at arm's length.
it's for the best, really.
and he's... not happy, but content. maybe. comfortable.
until evan buckley comes crashing into his life, figuratively and literally speaking.
the guy is— adorable.
tommy has no other word to describe him.
evan is energetic and enthusiastic, passionate about every single thing he says and does. he's reckless and loud and everything's tommy has soent a lifetime running away from.
when buck touches him for the first time, it sends electricity to every one of his nerves. it's intoxicating and amazing and warm, and tommy never wants it to end.
then, the curse kicks in. a little later than usual— as if mocking tommy, almost. teasing him with a tiny taste of what normal looks like and then reminding him he can never have it, not for real.
the first time buck touches him, it's at chimney's wedding— he's drunk and sweaty, cheeks pink and flushed and a boyish smile plastered on his face. he practically draps himself next to tommy's side, leans all his weight against him as he hums the lyrics of the song plahing in the background out of tune.
it's fun and heavenly for a couple of seconds, until tommy gets the vision.
buck in a month, maybe a month and a half. hanging from the firetruck ladder as the sky falls around him, lightning striking him right in the chest and making his heart stop.
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wholoveseggs · 3 days
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Hello. Was wondering if you’d be willing to write about a dom Elijah with a reader who’s just being an absolute brat and he’s over it please?
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Cat and Mouse
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
It's your anniversary party, but you are terribly bored, and the one person you actually want to be around isn't playing fair.
♡♡ Thanks for the request anon(s) This was a blast to write, dom Elijah makes me feral too ♡♡
5.3k words - Warnings: smutttt, Elijah being playful, dom!Elijah, rough sex, anal sex, choking, hair pulling, Elijah using his tie as a leash, oral sex, and a game of hide & seek....
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Elijah was a gentleman in the most basic sense of the word; his smile was disarming, his words were polite, and his eyes were soft and caring. And, for the most part, that was true.
And to the untrained eye, it looked as though Elijah was simply guiding you to a quiet corner, hand placed lightly on the small of your back, a gentle smile on his face, and a sparkle in his eyes.
But once you were alone, it was very clear Elijah was not going to be as kind as he was making himself out to be. You had been misbehaving, and he was about to give you a reminder of exactly what happened when you did.
You were going to pay dearly for what you had been doing. And it was all because you were bored.
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You had spent the last twenty minutes trying to get Elijah to notice you, and you had been failing at it miserably.
The party was his idea, and you didn't care much for them. But, like everything else, Elijah was very convincing and got you to agree. You were now regretting that.
It was your anniversary, and while you were happy to be with Elijah, you hated parties, especially ones where you were the guest of honor.
Elijah had made sure every last detail was taken care of, and he was determined that everyone had a great time, and that included you. So when he caught you rolling your eyes, or looking bored, he was quick to correct you.
You only wanted one thing out of this special day, and it wasn't something you could do in the middle of the crowded ballroom.
So, after yet another failed attempt at getting him to pay attention to you, you decided to do the only thing you could think of.
You would start annoying him.
So far, the only person you'd managed to annoy was yourself. You hadn't even made Elijah blink.
So you decided to start small. You started with little things.
You would pretend to affectionately adjust his tie, but leave it in a way that you knew would irritate him. He didn't even acknowledge it.
When he pulled you on to the dancefloor, you would purposefully step on his toes, scuffing up his perfectly polished shoes. He just chuckled softly and held you tighter, but still didn't say anything.
After that, you got a little more desperate.
You were standing beside him, trying to talk to one of the other guests, but you had no idea what they were talking about, and you didn't really care. Your hand wandered from his side, down to his hip, then further down to his ass. You gave it a little squeeze.
Elijah didn't even flinch.
He kept talking like nothing had happened, and you had no idea if you had managed to piss him off, or not.
That was until he excused the two of you and guided you away from the ballroom, his hand firm on your back, his smile gone, and his eyes dark and serious.
"Do you think you're funny?" Elijah asked, his voice low.
"Yes," you replied.
His hand was still light on the small of your back, but his fingers were pressing into your spine, forcing you to stand straight. His smile was still pleasant, but his lips were tight and his jaw was set.
You were in a quiet corridor, out of earshot of the other guests. He backed you up against the wall, his hands on your hips, holding you firmly in place.
"You have been acting out." His voice was still calm, but his tone was sharper, and you winced at his words. "You've been defiant, and rude, and you disobeyed me, and I'm beginning to suspect it's a deliberate choice."
He was right, it was deliberate, you wanted to piss him off, make him react. You liked pushing his buttons, but he was always so controlled, it was getting harder and harder to get a reaction from him.
You had this secret fantasy, to get Elijah so riled up that he would lose his cool and fuck you like an animal. To fight, and struggle, and have him pin you down, and take what was his. You had always felt safe with Elijah, he is your loving husband, he would never hurt you, but sometimes, when you were in the mood, you wanted to play rough.
And when you saw him in his perfectly tailored tux, you couldn't get the image out of your head. You needed it, so badly. You couldn't wait anymore, you were sick of him being so polite, composed, and controlled.
You wanted him to be rough, aggressive, and dominant. You wanted him to hold you down and have his way with you. You had discussed this fantasy with him before, and he'd been... not dismissive, per se, but not willing to fulfill it. He'd explained why, he was afraid he would hurt you. But you were no delicate flower; you were a vampire like him, and you could take a rough fucking.
"Yes, and?" You replied defiantly.
His eyebrows arched slightly and a slow smile spread across his face.
"Since you want to act like a child and play games, let's play one," His voice was steady and smooth, but the fire was in his eyes, and a thrill ran through your body. "You will run and hide, and I will come and find you, and when I catch you..." he leaned in, his mouth next to your ear, his breath hot on your skin, "I will have my way with you."
Your mouth went dry, and you could feel your heart pounding. You licked your lips.
"What do I get when I win?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.
"You won't," Elijah said matter-of-factly.
You stared at him for a moment, waiting for the inevitable 'but,' but it never came. You didn't have a chance of winning. He was faster and stronger than you, and you both knew it.
"3...2...1." His voice was soft and playful, and then you heard the sound of his feet as he rushed off.
You spun around and tried to catch him, but he was gone, and all you could see was a blur. You began to run, your heels clicking on the hardwood floor as you hurried through the compound.
You sped all the way back to the party, stopping suddenly when you entered the ballroom, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. You quickly fixed your dress and looked around. There was no sign of Elijah, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he wasn't following you, maybe he was giving you a chance.
As you looked around the room, searching for a place that you could use to your advantage, you felt his warm hand on the small of your back. He pulled you against him, his hand sliding up and caressing the nape of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair.
"Behind you," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, his other hand sliding around your waist. He pulled you flush against him, his hands roaming over your curves.
You pulled away from him and spun around but he had vanished. He was faster than you, his movements quicker, and you struggled to track him.
It was equally infuriating and arousing how he teased you, playing a cat and mouse game. He was having fun, and it made you want him even more.
The crowd of guests parted and you saw him, leaning against the far wall, a glass of champagne in his hand, his gaze fixed on you. You stared at him, daring him to approach you, but he didn't move. He was just grinning, his eyes sparkling as the music changed, and Elijah moved.
You watched him walk toward you, his steps confident, his shoulders squared, and a wicked smirk on his face. Then he was suddenly gone, and you gasped.
You searched the crowd frantically, but he was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared again, and you knew it was futile to search for him. You knew he was watching, enjoying the chase.
"Just admit defeat and I'll go easy on you," his voice was a seductive whisper in your ear. You didn't know how he did that, and it sent a chill down your spine.
You swallowed hard, and looked around. He wasn't there, but you could still hear his voice, feel his breath on your skin.
"Or perhaps you want me to chase you, to hunt you down, and fuck you in front of all these people," he chuckled, and your face flushed, and your pulse quickened. "Maybe that's what you've been trying to accomplish."
"You think too highly of yourself," you retorted, hoping your voice sounded calmer than you felt.
"You look like you're talking to yourself in the middle of the ballroom," Elijah's voice was smooth, and he sounded like he was right behind you. You spun around, but he wasn't there. "You should be careful, or someone might think you're crazy."
You were growing tired of the chase; of Elijah's smugness. You were frustrated, and horny, and you were starting to hate him a little. You headed towards the stairs, deciding that you were going to lure him to a more private setting.
Just then you heard the sound of tapping against champagne flutes. Elijah was making his way to the stage, a microphone in his hand. He looked perfect, standing tall and proud, his smile wide and dazzling. You felt your heart race. You stood there, frozen, as Elijah addressed the guests.
"It's time for my wife and I to make a toast," he said, his voice deep and resonating. He looked at you, gesturing you to come to the stage. You felt everyone's eyes on you and you had no choice but to follow. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip. 
"When I first met my wife," he said, his eyes focused on you, "I knew right away that she was the one." He smiled down at you, and you smiled back, a blush spreading across your cheeks. He pulled you closer, his fingers digging into your flesh. "She is the most beautiful, intelligent, and strong woman I have ever met. And now, after all this time, I'm more in love with her than I ever thought possible." He was looking deep into your eyes, and you felt your knees go weak. He pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, and you melted into him. "Happy anniversary my love,"
The crowd cheered and clapped, and the band started playing again. Elijah kissed your cheek, then whispered in your ear, "We're not done playing yet. Go and hide, and don't let me find you." His voice was a growl and his lips were hot on your ear. You pulled away and stared at him, your heart racing, and you saw a glint in his eye. He was still playing with you, and you were ready for him. You rushed off, and Elijah was once again chasing you.
You managed to make it to the top of the stairs, looking around frantically, trying to decide which way to go. You could feel his eyes on you, and it was making it difficult for you to focus.
You decided to turn left, and headed down the hall. As you turned the corner, you saw Elijah standing at the end of the hall, by the window, looking out. He turned and looked at you and you bolted in the other direction.
You heard him chuckle softly as you ran, and he followed close behind. You almost made it to the landing, but his strong arm snaked around your waist and hauled you backwards, you let out a squeak as he threw you over his shoulder and carried you down the hall.
"Let go of me," you demanded, trying to struggle out of his grasp.
He kicked open the door to the nearest bedroom, and stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him.
"Behave," he ordered, throwing you on the bed.
You glared at him, and sat up, you were not going to give in, not yet. He pushed you back down with one hand, the other undoing his tie and sliding it off.
The vision of him, his hair messy and his eyes wild, his jaw clenched, his hands working at the buttons of his shirt, was one that would be burned into your memory forever. It was the most erotic thing you had ever seen, and you couldn't take your eyes off him.
He smiled, and slid his shirt off, and then undid his belt, pulling it free. He tossed it aside, and his hands went to the button and zipper of his pants.
"Take off your dress," he ordered.
"No."
He smirked, and grabbed the fabric in the center of the dress, and yanked. It ripped apart easily, and he tossed the ruined garment aside.
"It wasn't a request," he growled, pushing his pants down, and stepping out of them.
He grabbed your thighs, and yanked them apart, and crawled up on the bed between them. His hands moved up to your waist, and he pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours.
You melted under him, and his tongue parted your lips, seeking yours. You moaned as he kissed you, and you could feel his hard cock pressed against you.
"You have been so naughty," he murmured, pulling away, and looking down at you. "And I have been patient, I've given you plenty of chances to stop, and now you've reached your last warning."
He pulled back, and his hand came up to cup your face.
"Be a good girl and apologize," he purred.
"Fuck off." You replied defiantly.
He growled and pulled you up, flipping you over and yanking your hips up, his fangs sunk into your ass, making you cry out.
"Say you're sorry," he growled, licking the bite.
"Never," you hissed, pushing back against him.
"You are such a brat," he chuckled, grabbing your hair and pulling it, making you arch your back.
He grabbed his tie, wrapping it around your neck and using it as a leash, pulling you back against him, his hand reaching down to your panties. His fingers gently rubbing over the wet fabric, a stark contrast to his rough grip on your neck.
"These are a little wet, my love," he teased, sliding a finger underneath the material, and running it along your slit.
"Shut up." You hissed, your legs shaking, and your pussy aching.
"What was that?" He growled, pulling the tie tighter, forcing your head back so it was resting on his chest. He looked down at your desperate expression, your cheeks flushed and your lips swollen, and licked his lips.
He pushed you back down onto the bed, pressing your face into the mattress, and slid the panties off, tossing them aside. He let out a low, satisfied moan, as he got a view of your perfect, dripping cunt.
"Looks like I've found the perfect punishment," he purred, sliding his hands over your ass, squeezing the flesh.
He reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube. Then he flipped you over onto your back, and pulled you to the edge of the bed, and spread your legs, exposing your glistening pussy.
"You can beg all you want," he said, spreading the lube over his fingers. "But until I think you're sincere, I won't fuck your pretty little pussy."
"I hate you," you spat, as his fingers slid over your ass, coating it with lube.
"I love you, too," he replied, a wicked smile spreading across his face.
He pushed one finger into your tight asshole, making you gasp.
"Hmm, when was the last time I fucked this hole?" He asked, slowly pumping his finger in and out. "Must have been a few months ago, it's very tight."
"Please," you whimpered, as his fingers stretched your hole.
"You'll have to do better than that, darling," he purred, adding another finger, stretching your hole further. His hand came down hard and smacked your thigh, leaving a red handprint behind.
"Fuck you," you growled.
He chuckled, and pulled his fingers out, and lubed up his cock, stroking it.
"Oh, I plan on it."
He leaned down, and pushed the head of his cock into your ass, and then stopped, a smug smile on his face.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He said, his voice low and dangerous. "You wanted me to lose control, to fuck you like an animal."
You tried to wriggle free, but he had you pinned. He was stronger than you, and he knew it. He grabbed your throat and squeezed, cutting off your air.
"Well, here we are." He growled, pushing his cock deeper into your ass, until his balls were pressed against your skin.
He wound the tie around his fist, pulling it towards him, and used it as a leash, dragging your neck upwards, forcing you to look at where you were connected. His other hand reached down, and rubbed your clit, his thumb swirling around it.
"Please," you moaned, and his hand came down again, and smacked your pussy.
"What was that, darling?" He teased, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, as his cock twitched in your ass.
"Please fuck me, I need you," you whimpered, your pussy throbbing.
He began to move his hips, the muscles in his stomach tensing as he pounded your ass.
"Such a good girl," he moaned, his hand coming up and smacking your face. "You're being such a good little whore, taking my cock in your ass."
You opened your mouth to say something, but his fingers slid into your mouth, causing you to gag and choke.
"Don't worry, I'm going to fuck that pretty little pussy soon," he moaned, his pace quickening, as his hips slapped against yours. "I could never deny my wife such pleasure."
He pulled his fingers from your mouth, and slid his hand down your body, his fingers dancing over your skin, and then slipping inside your cunt.
"Such a beautiful pussy." His voice was thick, and he licked his lips. "And it's all mine."
He was completely in control, and he was enjoying every second of it. The look on his face made you ache. He was so beautiful, and powerful and you loved it. Your whole world narrowed to the sensations his skilled fingers and his thick cock were drawing out of you.
He pulled on the tie, restricting your breathing, and the feeling sent a surge of arousal straight to your core. He pushed his fingers deep inside you and rubbed his palm against your clit, and you writhed beneath him, moaning and gasping. Elijah watched your every expression, pushing you right up to the edge of release and then he pulled away, leaving you glaring up at him in frustration.
"If you behaved tonight, I would let you cum," He cooed, before releasing the tie and sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, watching you with amusement.
"Now you will have to wait for my permission," He smirked. "Come and ride your husband's cock."
You glared at him, but obediently did what you were told, you were too pent up to not accept the compromise. You crawled up the bed, and straddled him. Elijah looked up at you with a smile, his dark eyes sparkling, the lines around his eyes deepening. His arms came around you and slid up your back as he kissed you, teasing your mouth with his tongue. You relaxed into him, and returned his passion, but he caught your hands before you could put them to good use. 
"Turn around, my love. I want you to sit on my cock with that pretty ass of yours." He commanded.
You swallowed and nodded. You rotated yourself, placing your knees either side of his thighs, and rose up onto your knees. His large hands went to your ass, kneading the plump flesh, and spreading it wide. You lowered yourself carefully, moaning as his cock eased into your pussy. You sank all the way down, until your thighs were touching his, your soft rear pressed against his body. 
Elijah groaned and his fingers dug in. You placed your hands on his thighs and began to rock your hips, sliding up and down his length, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. His cock filled you up perfectly, and you were soon riding him fast, desperately chasing the orgasm that he had denied you.
He watched the way you bounced, the way your ass cheeks jiggled, the way your wetness coated his cock, the way your body reacted to him. He was hypnotized, his eyes glued to your every movement. It was in these moments he couldn't believe you were actually his wife, that this wasn't a dream. He saw how much you wanted and needed him and it thrilled him beyond words.
It wasn't just the sex. It was the way you'd react to little things. How you would blush at even the smallest gestures, the way you gasped when his fingertips would graze the small of your back as he leaned in close, or the soft little moans you would make when he kissed and touched you, it made his heart ache with love and desire.
You were his drug and he was hopelessly addicted, the chase, the hunt, the thrill was not just pleasurable, it was sustenance. Every time he took you it made him a stronger, more confident, more capable man. And when you would moan his name? He was lost. Utterly lost.
His tie was still hanging off your neck, the fabric moving back and forth against your back with each movement. His fingers danced up your spine and he wrapped the tie around his fist and used it to pull you against his chest.
"Aren't you forgetting something," He grinned, licking the shell of your ear, making you shiver. "Don't I deserve an apology for your behavior from earlier?"
"Not a fucking chance," you hissed, and tried pull away but he pulled tighter and pushed deeper.
"Wrong answer." He chuckled darkly, letting go of the tie and pushing you forward with such force your hands came off his thighs and pressed into the bed, stopping yourself from falling face-first into the sheets. You looked back at him with a glare, but he just laughed and shook his head. His strong hands dug into your hips, and he began to thrust his hips hard, the smacks of his skin against yours echoing in the large bedroom. You reached back, needing to touch him, to get some purchase but he wasn't having it.
He could see that you were panting, trying desperately to stay afloat in the ocean of ecstasy he was drowning you in. But the real reward was listening to the desperate sounds escaping your mouth. You loved this, you wanted him to be rough with you and he decided to take it a step further.
Elijah let go of your hips and you immediately got off his lap and started to climb up the bed to escape but his reflexes were far better than yours. He yanked you back by your thighs and you kicked your legs to get free but that only served to egg him on. 
"I've told you to behave." He warned in a low, seductive voice.
You felt the pull of his tie again, and he yanked you backwards, positioning you so that you were on all fours. You gasped as he pushed your knees together, then he slammed his cock inside you, the angle hitting a spot that made you see stars, his other hand wrapping the tie around his fist. He used the leverage to pound into you, the bed slamming against the wall, and the sounds of his groans making you clench around him.
"Elijah," you moaned his name, your hands fisting the sheets, you were almost there, you were so close to sweet release.
You knew this game very well and you played along perfectly, whimpering and mewling as his cock stroked every inch of you. Your sweet sounds fueling him as he continued to ravage your soft cunt. 
"Such an insufferable tease." He groaned. He let go of the tie and tangled his fingers in your hair, pushing your head down into the mattress.
He was completely lost in the moment, his control completely shattered. Your words, and actions, had snapped the reins, and he was letting himself go, to his deepest, most primal, instincts. He gave your hair a hard tug, the way you liked, and your back arched involuntarily, causing him to pound into you even harder.
"That's right, beautiful wife," he cooed. "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?"
You nodded, unable to form any words, your brain overwhelmed by the sensations. You could hardly breathe, your mind a clouded mess. He pulled you up, holding you by the jaw and pressing his fingers into your mouth, making you gag.
"Beg me," he snarled. "Beg me to let you cum."
You tried to form the words, but he was holding you so tightly, his cock thrusting into you so roughly, that all you could do was moan. Your eyes rolled back in your head, drool dribbling out of your mouth, the sounds of your garbled speech muffled by his fingers.
"That's it," he whispered, his lips against the shell of your ear.
"Cum for me, sweetheart."
His voice broke through the fog, and the moment his permission was given, you felt your body convulse, the intense pleasure coursing through your veins, sending you into an orgasm that was so powerful it made your limbs go numb. You collapsed forward, but Elijah held you upright. Your muscles had given out, the pleasure was so overwhelming that you couldn't even muster the energy to keep yourself propped up. All you could do was moan softly and let him continue to fuck you senseless.
He pulled his hand away from your mouth and grabbed your hips, pulling them back into his thrusts, using your spent body for his own pleasure. He was close, his movements becoming erratic, his hips snapping, his nails digging into your skin.
He let out a long, low, groan as his cock throbbed, filling you with his warm cum. He thrust a few more times, emptying himself inside you, and then slowly pulled out, letting you fall on to the bed. 
He leaned over you, gently removing the tie and kissing along your spine, his hands softly rubbing the marks he had left on your body.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his tone soft.
"I'm ok" you sighed. "But my ass is not happy with you."
Elijah chucked and propped your hips up a little, licking a stripe from the cleft of your ass, all the way up to the back of your neck. You shivered, goosebumps erupting on your skin, you felt his hands on your hips and he quickly turned you over, making you squeak in surprise.
He kissed his way down your body, stopping to worship each of your breasts, and then moving down to your pussy. He spread your legs and ran his tongue over your slit, collecting his own cum that had begun to trickle out of you.
"Eli," you whined.
He hummed in response, and his tongue pushed deeper, lapping at your cunt, swirling around your sensitive clit. He was being gentle, his tongue teasing, his fingers rubbing soft circles into the skin of your hips.
You were perfect, his angel, his darling, his beautiful wife, and he had been so rough with you, he couldn't help but try and make up for it. He knew that you could take him, that you loved the rough sex as much as he did, but still, he always felt bad afterwards.
He could never stay rough for too long and tended to give into your soft whining, caresses and sweet kisses. It was why you were his wife, no one had the sort of power over him the way you did, and you both knew it. And there was truly nowhere else he would rather be, then between your legs.
He loved the feeling of your hands tugging on his hair, the way your thighs shook around his head, the way you clenched around his tongue, the sounds of your soft moans and whimpers. It was music to his ears, and he couldn't get enough of it.
"We taste like a dream," he murmured, licking his lips.
You chuckled, and then gasped when his tongue flicked over your clit, making your legs spasm.
"So sensitive," he purred, and then sucked the little bud between his lips, his fingers digging into your skin.
He could feel the pull of your hand, and he lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours, the pupils blown wide. He crawled over your body, and lowered his lips to yours, kissing you deeply.
You moaned softly, tasting the two of you together, and he groaned in response, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling at the strands.
"That's what we taste like, baby," he growled, his tongue plunging into your mouth. His lips wet and messy, his hands roaming over your body, his hips grinding against yours.
"It's so good, isn't it?"
"Yes," you gasped.
"I love it when you're covered in my cum," he murmured, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. "When your pretty little pussy is full of me, when I can smell myself all over you."
You bit your bottom lip, and let your eyes slide closed, taking in the scent of his skin, the feel of his lips, the way he was rocking against you. He was teasing you, and you wanted it, you wanted his cock to stretch and fill you again and again until you were delirious with pleasure. You'd never known someone who could turn you into this wreck so completely and efficiently, but here you were again.
"Stop talking," you whimpered, grabbing hold of his hair.
"Sorry baby." He mumbled against your throat, leaving open mouth kisses along your skin. "Are you ready for me to fuck you again, my gorgeous wife."
"Yes, fuck yes.." You moaned as you lifted your hips and wrapped your legs around him. He slowly pushed his cock back into your pussy, watching as you arched and moaned under him.
"Do you think I can fuck you till dawn?" He purred, pressing soft kisses against your neck. "You'd like that, wouldn't you baby, to be filled up all night?"
You hummed in response and he slowed down a bit, giving you deep, long slow strokes, taking his time, and enjoying the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him. He loved watching you come undone, to hear the moans and whimpers of delight fall from your lips, to know that it was because of him and only him.
This time he would make love to his wife, for however long she wanted, until morning if necessary. Because how could he not? When every look, every breath and every sound was the manifestation of a desperate plea, how was a husband to deny such a desire from a woman as beautiful, as delicate and yet as stubborn and as irresistible as you.
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y-rhywbeth2 · 2 days
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Ketheric continues to be the member of the Chosen I struggle to get a grip on. Like the other three I can tell you the details of why (I think) they grew up to monsters:
Long post.
-
Let's start with Gortash: spent his childhood being told he was a selfish monster for his thoughts - apparently from birth - for the way he perceived the world, for *checks notes* wanting his parents attention as an undeveloped human being that relies on its parents to survive and thrive.
Then his parents send him to hell as part of a deal. Because that's where monsters go isn't it? They go to hell to suffer eternal damnation because they were monsters in life.
So you grow up in one of the literal cesspits of the universe, where the only people you meet are the literal scum of the universe, or those you're going to learn to see as weak fools who had to rely on others - and were ultimately willing to commit atrocities themselves - who were taken advantage of by the scum of the universe. You get to the Hells by committing atrocities, either because you want something so badly you'll fuck somebody over for it (out of greed, or because you couldn't fix it yourself (weak)) or because you did them of your own volition. And curiously, some of these people had their price tags wrapped in such subtle terms they don't even realise they did anything wrong! Lesson learned; anyone will willingly be a monster if you make the evil sound nice. Every single devil you meet has had the humanity flayed from their soul, and they got to where they are in their existences by fomenting (and committing) hate and rape and murder and everything evil under the sun as a regular Monday morning in the ultimate goal to make the universe an evil place. Devils are also 'self made men', everybody started from nothing as a lemure and clawed their way to where they are now. Every social interaction in the Hells is manipulation and abuse. Everyone there hurts everyone.
But you do have one example of a good person! There's Hope! Lovely lady, kind and sweet... Trapped in hell being abused forever going insane because of it because your ambitious sister fucked you over. That's where trust and love being a good person gets you.
And that was his entire social life. That was the people he had to look to for examples. All his early experiences were limited to a sample of the absolute worst it has to offer, and he has a very skewed view of the universe.
And the fact that he's apparently so damn good at sex a lady gave him a ring worth everything she owns after growing up around a pleasure devil whose role is harming and corrupting people with sex and has built in charm person at etc is not ringing alarm bells(!) I'm not side-eyeing the boudoir at all.
I wonder why having a child/teen spend their formative years in the evil factory literally designed to spit out monsters... spat out a monster? Kudos to Karlach, though: just how many layers of defence mechanisms has she got in her brain?
Gortash's thought processes are 50% through the lens of engineering and 50% through the lens of a devil's perspective to me. People will sell out others for their own gain, because they're too weak to do it themselves or because they're bastards. If you don't get with the programme you're the victim. You only get ahead by being ruthless. Everybody is untrustworthy, and relying on them will get you betrayed. The world is divided into the weak and the ruthlessly strong who take what they want. Yes, he's a monster. And so are his parents. And so is everyone. And then Bane saw this perfect example of his way of thinking and said 'that one.'
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Orin: obviously we've got grooming. The fact that her formative memories include her mother trying to murder her, and the fact that she feels like the only person who has ever cared about her or supported her is her grandfather. Who is implied to have been raping her, or intending to. All she's permitted is to have her brain poisoned by her faith, which her life revolves around, and then her kin 'does it all wrong' and inherits everything she's been groomed to believe is hers. But no, 'they're not wrong,' says everybody around her 'you are!'
She's a Bhaalspawn, so her relationships with her kin are "kill or be killed," as Helena proved. You will please father by slaughtering your siblings, or you will die - or worse. You must be and stay favoured by Bhaal above all the others to be truly safe ("safe"), and Durge outranking her is a threat to her existence. Actually Durge existing is a threat to her well-being. She has no way to live a life outside the cult, never has and never will. Her life is insanely lonely and mostly consists of paranoia.
But the overlaying theme here is that she's a changeling. She's mirrorkin with no unique physical identity of her own, she can only reflect those of others. To be dnd canon accurate: she has no real facial features, no pigmentation. She's not permitted an identity of her own, and was punished for trying. She's a mirror born and raised to reflect the glory of Bhaal, the glory of her failed grandfather, the rise of Bhaal's favourite child. Never her own. Gee, I wonder why she literally wears people's skins.
Denied the ability to do anything but live according to what she's told, she does her best to live up to it because to fail is to become her parents and the countless aunts and uncles currently enjoying their damnation in the Throne of Blood. And then she's told she's doing it wrong. By everybody. She's a 'rabid dog'. She, despite having doctrine poured into her ears and probably carved into her flesh her entire life 'doesn't understand Bhaal.' And everybody is insanely patronising about it! You're never allowed to be anything but what we tell you to be, but you're still not good enough! Which is death. The Temple of Bhaal needs murder feminism.
-
The Dark Urge is my favourite little nightmare, and I've talked about them at length: much of Orin's trauma also applies to them, although where she's a mirror made to reflect the egos of others, Durge is only allowed one identity: Bhaal's. Where Orin can never seem to reach the standards forced on her, Durge is never allowed to fail to meet them, or else. Every outside connection they ever had was brutally sabotaged, and they've had 'you're a monster and only I (your abusive Father) can love you' drilled into their mind. They hate themself. We got the threat of sexual exploitation (assuming it didn't happen), there's a subtle undercurrent of incest to some interactions. The prayer for forgiveness kind of sums it all up: 'I'm sorry for forming an emotional connection that isn't blind love for you father, but don't fret, I'll destroy it with my own hands just like everything else and then finally get to kill myself just like I've always wanted.'
-
But Ketheric? Like villains don't need tragic backstories to be terrible people, but it does make them more interesting.
OK, so your bio family is fucked up and I definitely get the impression that they sucked (Malus is giving me vibes that say he'd have been a villain anyway, and might've been secretly Sharran to start with; Gerringothe seems to be drowning whatever her issues are in gold), and then the loving family you made for yourself broke: your wife died, and your daughter died, sure. But plenty of people on Toril probably have similar if not the same stories and didn't go evil overlord! Why are you doing this? What is informing these decisions? Why does your existence hinge so much on your dead daughter that your son is basically named after her and you seem to hate him for existing and not being her? Does Shar have something to do with it? Has Ketheric just carved out so much memory and emotion, so much of his own identity, that all that's left is the grief and the hunger for the pain to stop but, as per Shar's intent, it keeps coming back, with less and less positive memories to soften the pain. A wound that festers and never heals. Is the obsession with Isobel because she's the icon of everything that was good in his life, and her loss was the moment everything good was gone? Was he a rational man who turned to Shar to stop the pain in a moment of understandable grief and rage at her sister, and then was trapped in a cycle that destroyed everything that was good in that man until we get the General?
Just guess working my way through his entire backstory...
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the-whispers-of-death · 16 hours
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I've been meaning to write for Sugar Daddy!Price, so here it is. This is me caving into my personal desires.
Minors and Ageless Blogs Do Not Interact!! While this post is SFW, my blog isn't!!
Perhaps you're in need of more money because of your student debt, your inflated rent, or simply because you want to live a more lavish lifestyle. Either way, you find yourself one of those sugar baby websites, putting yourself out there for all potential sugar daddies to see.
It took you a few failed sugar daddies, who only wanted you for sex, to find John Price. He was a military man, which made you wary, but he seemed really sweet in his chats with you and the real kicker?
He didn't want you to have sex with him.
So despite your initial hesitance, you took up John's offer of going out to dinner with him to sort out all of the details of your arrangement. You put on the fanciest suit you owned, leaving the house and getting into the very nice car that John sent over to pick you up.
When you got to the restaurant, which was indeed as fancy as you thought it'd be, John was there to greet you. He hadn't set gotten seated at the table, leading to him gently guiding you as you two followed the waiter to your table.
The hand he placed at the small of your back warmed you through your clothes, as if it was touching bare skin. His pressure was firm, but not too firm to feel as though he was the only one driving your footsteps forward. It was more protective than commanding.
"Here, let me get that for you," John murmured as he went to pull out your chair for you. Despite you both being men, he clearly seemed to still want to be a gentleman, pushing your chair in when you sat down.
He ordered the drinks, giving you the option of an alcoholic drink or a non-alcoholic one. As the waiter left you two to go over the menu after giving you your drinks, you found it was the perfect time to start the conversation.
You worried your lip briefly before speaking. "So you said you're not looking for sex, but what are you looking for?" you asked, curiosity dripping in your voice. "What does being your sugar baby entail?"
John smiled at your question, leaning back in his seat to look at you fully. "It doesn't entail much, I'm away on deployments most of the time. I just want someone to take out on dates and to be in my presence when I am home from deployments," he answered, blunt to the point where you were surprised by his honesty. "I don't expect you to only have one sugar daddy or even not have a boyfriend, though I will still pay you even if I'm on deployments, I just ask to have your attention when I am home."
"Too busy to date?" you teased, relishing in the way your comment made a mischievous glint sparkle in Price's blue eyes.
"I am too busy to date and most people don't want a partner who's away for months on end." John swiped a drop of wine off his bottom lip before it could fall, your eyes instinctively tracking the movement. He then refocused on you. "Sugar babies are much easier in that respect, I don't have to worry about someone not liking waiting for me because they're getting paid."
You took in his words, mulling it over in your mind as the waiter came back, taking your orders. You then glanced up at John, taking in his handsome features and the offer he was giving you.
It was so nice to know that even when he was going to be deployed, he'd still be sending you money. Part of you felt like you were cheating him out of a good service, but the part of you that craved the money couldn't care. He clearly didn't.
As the food arrived, you two continued to sort out everything, John writing things down for when he'd draw up a contract for you two to sign. The rest of the dinner went well and since he was paying you for this dinner, you offered to come back to his place despite the fact that there was no contract yet.
John thought it over a while before shaking his head and gently turning you down, kissing your forehead and placing you in the car. He bid you goodbye before closing the door, signaling to the chauffeur to drive you back home.
You had a feeling being John's sugar baby would be interesting to say the least.
Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)
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figsnpassionfruits · 2 days
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Paint Away, My Little Dove - Chapter 1
A/N: welcome to my very first fic. This takes place right away the gang arrives at Horseshoe Overlook. It is somewhat canon but you will figure that out as you read. English is not my first language, so in case there is anything you notice, please message me! I hope you enjoy as much as I enjoyed writing this <3 word count: 2k tags: arthur morgan x fem!reader, fluff, age gap dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive pictures are from pinterest
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Oh yes, the fields of Big Valley. What a sight they were. Each careful brush stroke you were making was an attempt to recreate the unforgettable beauty of the scenery in front of you. The love-songs of the birds around you filled the silence in the air as you dipped your brush into one color, then into another, to create the shade you needed for the details of the Bluebonnets. All day you’ve been sitting on your small wooden stool, your glutes and back slightly sore, but the will to finish this piece before the sun went down was stronger than the pain.  
Your two horses were to your side, roaming around the violet flower field. In order to make them comfortable you had removed them from your wagon and their reigns. Every once in a while, you would hear their hooves stomp on the ground as they were snacking on the fresh grass. Spring was just starting to come in. ‘The grass must be tasting sweet for them’, you thought to yourself.
Most of your days were spent like this. It included finding a pretty spot with different elements of nature, such as mountains, trees, riverbanks and forests. Then you would proceed to paint it on your canvases. Some paintings were small enough to fit into a saddlebag, others big enough to compliment homes. Your wagon was able to stash all your supplies and works. At the end of each day, you would pack up everything, set up a camp, and sleep, excited to see where the next day and trail would bring you to. After the soreness in your wrists starts to settle in, building up too much discomfort to ignore, you would go into the nearby town to sell your art. Earning a living with art is not necessarily easy, but it is most definitely amusing, especially when you encounter folks who do not really know about the value of it. Therefore you knew your target group: People with too much money in their pockets who do not question the overly-expensive prices. Sure, sometimes it would work, other times it would not. But it was enough to get you food to fill your belly and the supplies you needed to get by.
Scrunching your eyebrows, you swat away the bees buzzing near your ear, annoyed at them pulling you out of your focus.
“What’cha painting there?”
“Whatever is in front of me…” You mumbled. You couldn’t help but let out a tiny sigh, followed by small eyeroll, before turning around swiftly, facing the stranger who asked. “Could you please leave?”
“Excuse me?” He chuckled.
Placing your brush on the small wooden plate of the stand in front of you, you rubbed your temple. “I apologize-“ You giggled. “I just get so caught up in my work. Can’t afford no distractions.”
“Aghhh” The stranger groaned, getting down from his horse, “I get it. No apology needed.” He said, putting his hands up in a light-hearted way, as he kept walking towards you. By closing the distance between both of you, you allowed yourself to take a better look at him, analyzing his clothes, trying to understand who or what he was. Maybe a potential customer? What price range could you offer him, which would be enough to profit you, but not too much to the point of scaring him away. Or maybe, he was perhaps just a curious man, intrigued by people. In that case, offering him a price was maybe not a necessary thing to do. Weighing out your options, you decided to be blunt and tell him right away.
“Seventy-five for this one.”
The stranger took a step back, looking back and forth between you and the unfished painting. “Seventy-five?!” He exclaimed. “The yellow in that better be liquid gold.”
A small shrug with a self-satisfied smile is what he got in return.
He was indeed very handsome. Broad shoulder that stretched his shirt, beautiful light eyes that could reflect objects in his vision like a mirror and a mustache slightly longer than his stubble. He seemed like a well-groomed man. Well-groomed usually equivalents to a decent amount of money. Unless he was a con-artist.
“Beautiful horses ya got there” He nodded over to the direction of where your wagon was placed.
Following his point of direction, you turned around. Those horses really were beautiful, such as the bond you had with them. “Thank you.” You replied softly.
A small moment of silence occurred as you both individually took in the scenery and everything nature had to offer for you. It truly was beautiful. The way the snowy mountains up north were looking over the river, which was flowing through the flower field, seemed unreal. The combined sounds of the birds, bears, coyotes, deer and bees further blocked out your other senses. It was peace.
“How come you haven’t painted ‘em?”
“Hm?” You hummed.
A small giggle left his lips as he smiled, his eyes glued to his slightly dirt-covered boots for a split second. “Ya horses. How come you haven’t painted ‘em?” He repeated, kicking a few small stones around.
“Oh- I guess… I just like sticking to landscapes. Haven’t really figured out how to make the animals look good.” You admitted.
He nodded understandingly, his gaze roaming around the fields again. Unexpectedly, he took another step towards you, offering you his wide and strong looking hand. “Arthur Morgan”
You waited for a second yet flashed him a small smile right before you bit your lip. “Y/N L/N” The corners of your lips quirked up as you shook the hand in front of you with your own.
Arthur stepped away, tilting his hat down as a polite gesture. “See ya around, Miss.”
“See you, Mr. Morgan.”
..................................................
Valentine… What a lively little town. It had everything you’d need to make a home. A butcher, a store, livestock, a stable and even a saloon. Yet, this was not something you could think about. Having no one to lean on to was not the most uncomplicated thing in the world. But it does allow you to harden your shell and intuitively create different paths of survival. Travelling around was yours.
You had set up a small stand near the theatre, your paintings displayed for every passing person to see. Your horses were in the stable, getting treatments you could never afford for yourself. After all, they were the ones doing all the pulling and walking. If anyone deserves a day off like that, it was them. Strangers would pass by, some only glancing at your creations, others stopping for a few only to admire them. And then they were people who bought. The local folks here had already gotten used to you. This was a great spot to sell, especially during the tourist seasons. The hotel was never empty during this time of the year. The fancy and rich from up north loved the sun. So, to take advantage of those, you would come here twice a year. Anytime they would show up, you were here as well. Waiting for potential customers could get a tad bit boring but sitting on a nice cushion helped.
You were picking out the dirt from under your nails when precipitously the Sheriffs frame came into your sight.
“Miss L/N! How are you this fine afternoon?” He cheered as he walked past.
“Thank you, Sheriff, I am fine.” You smiled back at him, finally leaving your nails alone. Your eyes followed his strut, trying to block out your envy. He was a man after all. Being a woman in these times was not easy. A home was something you could only dream of if you belonged to a man, whether that is being a daughter or a wife. Legally owning property? That was not anything that women should even be thinking of.
The sound of wooden wheels rolling and cheery singing of female voices made you glance towards the direction it came from. It was a wagon, its back filled with women, each more gorgeous than the other, while the front had two men seated on it. Once the movement and tunes came to a halt, everyone on it got off, splitting ways on where to go. Yet one of the men came right towards you.
“Miss L/N.” Arthur greeted, trailing to you and your tiny gallery.
Attempting to block out the sun with your hand, you smiled up at him from your cushion. “Hello, Mr. Morgan. Changed your mind on the seventy-five dollars?”
“God, no.” He snickered, bending down to take a better look at one of the smaller paintings. The lake portrayed in it seemed familiar to him. ‘Of course’ Arthur thought. ‘How could I forget this place.’. It was the small cabin at O’Creagh’s Run, which belonged to the veteran he occasionally hunted with.
“You seem to like that one, though.” You pointed out.
“Ya didn’t say this was seventy-five. Scared me off with the one from Big Valley.”
‘Yeah, maybe that was a bit too much.’ You pondered as you clicked your tongue. Before allowing silence to settle in, you asked him what he was doing here.
“Could ask you the same thing.” He said amused.
Even though you only had two conversations with this man, it was fun. The back-and-forth banter was not something everyone could keep up with you, let alone a man who would not get offended by a sassy woman.
“I get by here usually twice a year. The tourists love the landscapes. Makes their homes look nice. You should try.” You suggested.
Arthur let out a small chuckle, this time thoroughly taking his time looking through your art. His gaze was fixated on the smaller canvases. One of those could fit nicely into his saddlebag. Not that he had the space for a bigger piece. Roaming his eyes between two, one that looked similar to the Dakota River, the other a smaller version of the floral area around O’Creagh’s Run. The positive association of his friendship with the veteran Hamish made him point at the second one. “I like that one.”
You turned, picking up the named piece. “This one I would give out for fifty, since it is obviously smaller. But for you, since we are now associates,” You giggled “I will hand it out for… thirty-five.”
Even though this offer was better than the other, Arthur could not help but shake his head, a smile not going unnoticed. “Alright, alright.” He pulled out the money from his pocket. “Only because it’s near a friends house.”
You took his money, whispering the numbers while counting. “Hamish?” You asked.
“Yeah.” It sounded more like a question than a statement. “Ya know the old fella?” Arthur questioned, while taking the painting into his hand.
You hummed, putting the money into your small leather purse. “He took me in one night while I was freezing up there. Sometimes a tiny camp is just not enough. Ever since then I see him as my pa. He’s the sweetest.” You explained, keeping eye contact with Arthur. This was the longest you have had continuously looked at him. His good looks you already have noticed the first day you met. But today, it seemed to sink in. The question of what he was- you still could not answer. “I will head back to him soon. Been out here for weeks now. He must be really worried, too.”
‘That makes sense.’ He thought. No wonder he has not seen you with Hamish before.
“Well, thank you for buying something, Mr. Morgan.” You smiled.
“Please, call me Arthur.”
- 🍯
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fernlessbastard · 2 days
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how do you think they'd react to the other getting hit on
Absolutely possessive, and they're both passive-aggresive about it. Like "ha ha yeah he is hot! I know, right? Ha ha ha and the best part is that he's all mine." type of thing
Ok so first and foremost: obviously if they get flirted with they'll immediately state they're not interested and are also in a relationship. That being said, when the other is around they let their counterpart handle the situation, cause that's just what makes it more fun
So, I'd imagine they both have a tendency to kinda like, use oversharing as a way to "gross" people out
They'll just start leaning against - or rather on - the one who's being flirted with more and more, and with just the most passive aggressive politeness they'll happily disclose some of their private life, making it clear that they are very much together
Wilbur likes to pull the "you know where his previous husband, before me, is right now? Six feet under. Or I guess at the very least that's where lies what remains of him..." with just the biggest smile ever. Quackity finds it too endearing to even bother clarifying that the guy died of a heart attack, that the 'what remains of him' refers to Quackity eating his heart, and that legally him and Wilbur aren't even married (yet). He just likes seeing Wilbur get that sparkle in his eyes, passive aggressively telling people how lucky he (Wil) is, and how unlucky they are cause he's the one dating Q and they're not
Ok tried to keep it pg13 so far cause it is a more general question, but I'll give a more nsfw elaboration in the context of like, at a club or something under the cut
While Wilbur's more so focused on making sure everyone around knows that Quackity is his and only his, Quackity more so loves to focus on reminding Wilbur about how he belongs to Q.
He'll pull Wilbur in by the waist, trace his hand over the man's lower back, play with his hair a little in a way where it curls around his fingers tightly so that all he'd need to do to pull Wilbur's hair would be to lazily gesture his hand slightly back, etc. And verbally he won't shy away from telling the person how good of a boy Wilbur is, and how obediently he listens, so on and so forth, sometimes even going a bit into detail. Basically he'll happily talk about Wilbur as though he's not there/as though he's a dog obediently sat waiting for his owner to finish talking. And Wilbur absolutely loves that. He loves Quackity being possessive, he loves the physical reminders that he belongs to him, he loves the praise, he loves that little sprinkle of dehumanisation, and everything is nicely tied with a bow of exhibitionism, humiliation of people finding out that he's "just Quackity's plaything", and also just being a general menace to people
Altogether I'd say that pretty much every time Quackity gets hit on Wilbur ends up in his lap (the second he's able to) which eventually turns into some very soft and loving sex with lots of reassurance and words of affirmation, meanwhile if it's Wilbur who gets hit on most of the time it'll be rather BDSM heavy (but still just as loving, obviously) and Wilbur's probably gonna be ending up as a happy, but extremely exhausted wreck, cuddled up to Quackity who's giving him countless little kisses and continues to tease him with little whispers
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highvern · 3 hours
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Houdini
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader
Genre: smut, hint of fluff at the end
warnings: drinking, allusion to drug use, sub hoshi likes when reader is mean to him, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex, reader calls hoshi a furry more than once, cumshot, hair pulling, reader wears bunny ears
Length: ~5.3k
Note: this started as a prologue to a different fic but i wanted it to become its own fic. danke @gyuswhore for being my torture subject as always as well as @onlyhuis @temptaetions @cheolism
Summary: The guy wearing a tiger onesie and ripping a bong in the corner might not be the most promising prospect of the night. But you've got a point to prove and a bet to win.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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The cramped living room is hazy with the smell of pot, cut by cheap led strip lights painting everything in violets and blues. Butt numb from the stiff armrest of the couch, you adjust the bunny ears on your head for the fifth time in the twenty minutes you’ve sat there.
Everyone else skitters around, dressed as different animals. More bunnies, a few cats, a guy dressed like a dinosaur hogging a joint. It’s someone’s birthday; a friend of a friend you’ve never met, but the promise of free alcohol before heading downtown isn’t even close to the worst way to spend your time. It’s why you fished out the dumb satin bunny ears from your closet; a relic from Halloweens past when you needed a cheap excuse to wear something scandalous in public with little judgment. 
June disappeared thirty minutes ago to find the birthday boy, leaving your entire group to mingle until she returns. 
You intently listen as Lily vents about her work crush for the nth time. His name is of no relevance, but she’s convinced herself it's love despite the fact he possesses fewer brain cells than a rock. A proven fact since he didn’t know the difference between consonants and vowels despite being well into his twenties.
“Why all the talk about relationships?” you interrupt. “Can we please have one night where we don’t talk about guys.”
“Some of us want boyfriends.” Anna rolls her eyes. 
“And yet, you can find one hundred percent of the benefits of one with zero effort. At least without all the mind games you two go through every week.”
“Easy for you to say.” Anna argues. “You’re like the poster girl for no-commitment sex.”
“I like what I like,” you shrug. “Not guys that say they want a relationship and then claim you're moving too fast when you ask him to treat you like a person.”
Lily gives an exasperated groan to the ceiling. “We get it. You hate romance.”
“I don’t hate it. I just like to be realistic. Most guys are good for one thing and I happen to admire them for that.”
“Do you realistically think you can get any guy here to sleep with you?” Anna asks. 
Any guy is a stretch. You’re easy but not without standards. Taken men are strictly off the menu. Along with weirdos or guys that look like they’ve never seen the inside of a shower. Anyone looking for a relationship typically removes themself from the running after figuring out you aren’t looking to be saved or changed, just a warm body that’s easy on the eyes.
“Pick anyone and if I pull him you owe me breakfast tomorrow.” You challenge them with a smirk. It’s slim pickings so early in the night, but nothing you can’t work with.
“Okay, then.” Lily agrees. “What about him?”
It takes you a moment to decipher who her manicured finger is pointing at. There's a small crowd in the corner of the room, guys too scared to mingle or uninterested in anything beyond their circle jerk. But he’s easy to spot; a tiger onesie and a dark crop of hair are all the details you get from this far away.
He seems to be the main entertainer of the bubble. Hands fly in different directions, chaotic but graceful. Now that you’re locked onto him, the boom of his voice floats under the heavy music. Tiger guy isn't your usual type. He’s lithe and lean; maybe a dancer or something athletic. You like them tall and domineering. It makes it that much sweeter when they try to dominate you, only to be beaten at their own game. Mingyu wasn’t your A-list fuck buddy for no reason. A damn shame he moved away at the end of last year.
But the man Lily’s picked will do what you need him to; prove a point and grant you a free meal. If you get at least one orgasm out of it then that’ll be a bonus. Chugging the last of your drink (which smells like nail polish remover and paint thinner had a very toxic baby), you drop the empty cup into Anna’s hand.
“And we want proof!” Anna calls as you stalk toward the far wall.
One of the other guys he’s talking to sees you approach, and you watch the way his eyes convey your presence, nearly bugging out of his skull. A gentle tap on tiger guy’s shoulder has him turning to greet you.
Confusion clouds his face. He’s cuter than you expected, with furrowed eyebrows and a pout that draws your eyes to his mouth with curiosity. You’ll find out their talents soon enough. 
“Hi,” you smile.
“Hi?” he parrots.
“I’m Y/N.” Eyes round with faux innocence, you make a point to take a few seconds staring at his mouth before meeting his curious gaze.
“Soonyoung.”
Soonyoung. The name rolls along your tongue easily. You light up at the way his eyes follow the curve of your mouth around the sound. It’s too easy.
Pushing forward, chest to chest; raising on your toes. You relish in another shiver at the brush of your mouth against his ear. “Is this your party?”
“Yeah, it’s my roommate’s birthday,” he says.
So that’s who June knows. 
“Cool. Wanna show me your room?”
“What?” You can hear the record scratch in Soonyoung’s brain; see the disbelief in his eyes.
Stepping into his space, your gaze burns a path from his lips to his eyes before you repeat, “your room?”
“Yeah, yeah. I can…definitely do that. This way!”
His own friends, still circled in the corner, gape in their own disbelief. Soonyoung has you charging through the crowded living room and down the hallway. Good. Even more bodies fill the narrow space but he nearly pushes them aside, waving off any grunts of discontent at his roughness.
You pass several doors on each side, all closed from prying eyes but you don’t have an interest anyway. His room is at the end of the long passage. A whiteboard with a crude image of a tiger and a rainbow hangs at eye level, coupled with ‘TamTam + Hoshi 5ever’ but you don’t have time to admire the art before you’re inside.
“So, this is it,” Soonyoung announces, hands wringing in front of his chest nervously. 
The tiger thing isn’t so much a coincidence and more of a theme. A poster of a tiger hangs on the wall above the dresser. But it’s not the worst of it. His bed hosts several plushies, all different sizes and shapes but certainly tigers. 
Whipping around, you eye him with incredulity. “Are you a fucking furry?”
“No!” He shakes like a bobblehead. Like he’s had to explain it dozens of times before. “It’s a joke! From college, with my friends.”
“A joke where you collect tiger memorabilia as a grown man?” You shoot back.
“It’s not that bad.”
Eyebrows flying to your hair line, you make a sweep of the room. “You have a framed picture of a tiger, are wearing a tiger suit, and have a miniature army of stuffed animals.” 
“Okay, maybe it is that bad, but I’m not a furry.”
If he was hiding more of the garish pattern out of sight you wouldn’t be surprised. For good measure, you fold over the blanket of his bed and sigh relief to find navy sheets instead of orange. You’ve slept with weirder guys for less but it’s nice to know he isn’t that weird.
“Whatever you say. But if you ask me to wear a tail, I’ll walk back out there and tell everyone.”
You peel your shirt off without another word. Once your vision is free of the fabric, you’re met with a starstruck man — mouth open, eyes skimming your chest, and what seems to be a half-chub tenting his pants. You revel in the silent awe rolling off him, preening at the attention. So easy.
But Soonyoung seems to come to his senses when you start working on the zipper holding together the back of your skirt shut.
“Woah, okay. We don’t have to go so fast,” he says, taking a step in your direction.
“So I should put my shirt back on?” You make for it like the threat is real.
“Let’s not be too hasty! I’m just saying, maybe we should, like, talk a bit first?”
Your feet carry you until there’s barely a breath between his body and your own. Soonyoung’s shirt brushes against your naked stomach with each stuttered breath as you eye his lips. “Well, do you wanna talk or do you want your dick sucked? Because I can only do one at a time.”
“Definitely the second one,” Soonyoung starts, dipping his hands to your ass for a harsh squeeze while shepherding you to his bed.
His mouth tastes like smoke and need. A disgusting combination if not for your tipsy brain easily ignoring it in favor of focusing on the roughness of his touch.
Soonyoung is eager, to say the least. He can’t touch you fast enough; hands darting from your ass, to your sides, to your breasts, and back down again. If this was happening at your apartment you’d tie him down and refuse to let him feel anything at all just to watch him squirm. 
You manage to flip him under you, pinning him in place with your thighs to rest across his lap like a throne. Taking the change in stride, he uses the new angle to mouth over your bra; sucking harshly at your covered nipples till they stiffen for his fingers to pinch at.
“Condoms?”
Soonyoung shakes his head. 
Digging the heel of your hand into his forehead successfully unlatches the suction around your nipple.  He pouts at the interruption.
“You don’t have condoms?”
“I do, but I’m not about to fuck you after two seconds of making out,” Soonyoung argues. “I‘m not even hard yet.”
Shocked by the sudden attitude, you huff before rolling your hips down. You're met with a familiar lump pressing into the crotch of your pants, and Soonyoung has the nerve to simply return to his previous task as you rock against him again.
“Liar,” you pant after a delicious drag of his teeth on your collarbone and his cock against your ass.
You stay locked like that for a while, writhing against one another as clothes come off without abandon. Your bra first, then the damn tiger onesie. Soonyoung gets you on your back before flipping up your skirt and pulling your panties to the side, revealing your drenched center.
He sucks a bruise on your nipple, tongue messy as he explores what’s between your legs with a gentle stroke of his fingers.
“Can I go down on you? Please say yes.” Soonyoung traces the request across your chest with more nips of his teeth. 
“You have to ask?”
“Consent is sexy.”
“You sound like a PSA,” you comment. “But, yeah go ahead.”
Your hips lift to aid in removing the last scraps of clothing. There’s no shyness as you spread your legs wide, flashing the aftermath of a good make-out session for Soonyoung eyes only.
“Oh my god,” he moans.
The heat of his breath fans across your folds, sending a shiver down your spine. He doesn’t even blink as you clench from the aching need to be filled with whatever he’s ready to offer,
“What?”
“This is gonna make me sound weird again, but you have a really pretty pussy.”
Not something any previous partners have chosen to comment on, but you preen under the compliment. “Thanks.”
“No. Thank you,” Soonyoung says before looking at the ceiling. “God, thank you so much for blessing me like this.” 
“Stop being lame or I'll leave.” 
“Sorry, you’re hot.” He says it like an accusation. “Just wanted to let the universe know I recognize that and appreciate it.” 
“How about you recognize the fact I’m drying up as we speak?” 
“No you aren’t,” Soonyoung argues. “You’re dripping on my sheets.” 
Your hand skates across your front, falling between your thighs. Like hypnosis, he watches with rapt attention as you frame your clit between two fingers, giving a clear target for his attention. 
“Then do something about it.”
With a hand fisted in his hair, he does. An aggressive suck against your clit without warm-up sends a tremor through your core. Your fingers knot in his hair, twisting until he’s forced away from your cunt with a petulant frown. 
“If you keep licking my clit like a scratch off I will make you cry.” A jostle of the bed tells how effective your words are. “Oh my god. Did you just?” 
“I’ve never been threatened in bed before, okay? I'm just as shocked as you.”
He hides the embarrassment by wedging back between your thighs, gentler than before, lapping away the new flood of arousal from his responsiveness. A thrill hums down your spine and settles where Soonyoung’s mouth returns to work. His shoulders burn hot against the underside of your thighs, every surge of muscle rocking you back into the slick of his tongue. 
“Fuck.”
“Better?” he asks around a mouth full of pussy.
There might very well be a crowd at the door listening to every lewd squelch and pathetic whine, but you don’t care. A little direction, a grind of your hips when he does well and the sting of your nails when he gets ahead of himself does wonders. Soonyoung is eager to please and impress. You could probably lay here for an hour without a complaint for him; if anything, he’d actively encourage such indulgence if it meant your approval. 
It makes the temptation to overwhelm him too sweet to ignore. 
One of the hands flat against your stomach falls away easily, knotting his fingers through yours because of course he’d be the type to hold hands during sex. It’s cute, but that fondness is stomped down for something safer. 
Like sucking two fingers between your lips like it's his cock.
Soonyoung grunts frustration straight into your core, refusing to watch you wet his hand even when you moan at the prod against the back of your throat. Another hump against the mattress as an edge of teeth drags over his knuckles. 
You can’t help but laugh as he scrambles to stretch you across them. He curls one slowly, like you’ll object. When you don't, Soonyoung adds the other and resettles your thigh so he can watch them disappear inside. His knuckles return even more soaked and even you can’t pretend it isn’t a turn-on. 
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
Before you can respond, he’s licking away the fresh wave of wetness from his praise. It isn’t new information, but Soonyoung is impossibly earnest and you’re pretty sure if he came from eating you out he’d be just as satisfied as if you fucked him.
“Gimme a third.”
Soonyoung moans like he’s the one getting off as he does what you ask. 
Your legs lock, sore at the hips from being dragged to the edge so quickly. It bubbles just under the surface. Too far away where you can’t reach it but know Soonyoung can. He knows it too by the way you whisper his name. 
“If you touch yourself right now will you cum?” 
“Probably.” 
“Good.” You're overeager, just like the man between your legs, but the idea he can get off from eating you out can’t be ignored. “Show me.” 
“If you make me cum twice tonight I will talk to my therapist about you, so no.”
You whine a protest. Something that would sound far more responsible falling from his lips in the established dynamic, but you don’t care. One of your feet wedges between the bed and his crotch, toeing along the bulge still hidden behind a pair of thin boxers.
“Is it not enough that I might cum from you insulting me, you have to see it happen?” He asks. 
The picture behind your eyelids is nothing short of demonic; pulling Soonyoung’s boxers down and the inside sticky with cum, but his cock still hard because once is definitely not enough. Or streaks of white coating his chest and thighs, the perfect trail to trace your tongue over. 
You don’t even have a chance to share the fantasy before he splits you on his tongue again. Firmer this time, with a hard press to your knees that has you vulnerable and exposed. He keeps his tongue flat and heavy on your clit. Perfect to grind up against until you shudder.
Since you can’t get Soonyoung to give in, you settle for ruining any future encounter he might have by making a show.
Your fingers tickle up your stomach, nails raising goosebumps at the soft touch. Back and forth and back and forth, a little higher each time until you catch the hill of your chests and circle the hard peaks. There's no reason to ease into it, not when you sneak a glance down and find a pair of brown eyes framed between your legs.
The way he watches makes you feel dirty. Nipples pebbled between your fingers, you arch into his next move. His tongue stays flat for you to use. You curl into it, humping Soonyoung’s face like he’s nothing more than a toy to get off on. 
“Shit, shit, shit.” 
He’s definitely slipped a fourth finger inside. The stretch borders just on the edge of pain but you take it in stride. Soonyoung looks like he might cum before you do. 
“I’m – oh. Just like that.” You groan deep from your core. 
Your clit is throbbing with sensitivity as he continues to coax pleased sounds from your tongue. Heating from the inside out, your hands abandoned the torture on your chest in favor of keeping Soonyoung in place so you can rut against him.
A switch flips with your next moan. Hands on your stomach, your breasts, shoving your thighs out of the way as he digs into your cunt like the best meal the world will know. 
“Cum for me. Please let me see you come,” Soonyoung begs. 
Fizzling out, you do what he asks. Your stomach tenses for a second and then you fly off the mattress from locked muscles. 
Soonyoung doesn’t stop as you twitch, nor when you kick an ankle into his side. Maybe you go a little wet at the eyes as he forces you straight into a second orgasm without an ounce of reprieve but it's probably coincidence.
Soonyoung finally moves away at an inhuman whine. His mouth is stained with the taste of you, but he wears it well. It almost makes you want to push him back down and see if you can survive a third orgasm.
To stop from blindly following temptation, you roll until you’re sat in his lap. You must look as disheveled as you feel; sweaty and strung out. Ready for more.
“Wait,” he sighs with the pain of a man delaying his own gratification. “Wear these.”
The wrinkled satin bunny ears knocked from your head earlier come back into view. Soonyoung doesn’t  even pretend to be ashamed as he plants them back on your head before finding the dip of your waist again.
You hate the idea of giving in so easily, but Soonyoung’s need rolls off him in thick waves feeding straight to your ego.  “Oh, but you’re not a furry?” 
His cock fits well against the curl of your fingers as you stroke him, standing tall and proud from his lap. Oddly enough, you get his earlier sentiment. You’ve never thought of a dick as pretty but Soonyoung’s is nice. Red and leaking at the tip, you’re tempted to duck your chin and get a taste, but Soonyoung drags you up to his mouth before you can even make a good faith try.
“Stop being mean to me or I’ll bust a nut,” he whines.
“Can’t have that,” you snicker. “Condoms?”
“Drawer.”
The door slams open in your haste. It’s a mess of lube, sex toys, and random chargers. Who keeps a phone charger where their lube is? Too eager for the promise of such a pliable partner doesn’t leave with an interest in asking, and the way he continues to suck at your throat isn’t helping. Until you find something that stokes your curiosity even more.
“Soonyoung. What are these?” 
A set of fuzzy tiger print cuffs dangle from your fingers. The jokes write themselves. But you ignore the re-occurrence of orange and black because you really want to know if he likes bondage. (Hopefully it’s a yes. Even more hopeful is he likes to be on the receiving end.)
“Birthday present.”
“Your friends are weird,” you say. “Have you used them?”
He looks shy, like he hasn’t just asked you to don animal ears and ride him into the mattress. Handcuffs are nothing in comparison but you wait out the nerves flashing on his face. “Maybe.”
“On who?”
“Umm…”
“Have you been handcuffed?” 
Do you want to be? The idea is just another fantasy you’ll think about later in the dark of your room when you need a quick way to get off. 
“No.”
“Lame,” you tease before tossing them to the floor and shoving a foil packet into his chest.
Soonyoung’s ability to multitask is nonexistent. Not when your nipping his ear lobe and whispering how bad you want him to fuck you; how you can’t wait to feel him inside you; how big his dick is. Perfect flattery that makes him whine and fumble the condom over and over again until you grant clemency and do it yourself.
His hands are rough against your ass as you slip him inside, slow because you want him to suffer just a little bit. Your thighs scream in protest at the angle but Soonyoung looks at you like he’s watching a miracle unfold and the discomfort is more than worth it.
If there was time, you’d let him fuck you from behind just to see how he’d fair with such a visual, but this is already dragging out too long. Soonyoung looks like he needs more time to adjust to the way he’s digging in your walls than you do. So you keep theme and start bouncing on his cock just to watch him go insane.
“God,” he grunts, neck strained and a vein rising on his forehead. “You’re fucking tight. Shit.”
Your eyelids flutter shut in focus. “Keep talking. Tell me how it feels.”
“Feels amazing, oh my god. You’re so wet.”
Your pelvis tilts so he can meet each stroke from below. The slap of skin on skin drowns out any other noise; the music, the screaming partygoers just outside. If someone walks by his door they’ll figure out what's happening in a second. Makes you want Soonyoung to be louder.
“You’re so hard for me.” 
You sink flat until your ass is cradled against the firmness of his thighs. You use the leverage to sit up and give an uninterrupted view of your front; how your breasts bounce with each movement, where his cock sinks deep into your guts without any resistance.
“All for you,” he nods, eyes wild and unfocused. There’s sweat on his neck and you can’t fight the sick urge to suck against the muscle laying underneath. “Fuck you make me so hard.”
“Should’ve let me suck your dick.”
“I know,” he whines. An arm loops around your waist, crowding you into the sheets from a smooth flip. An open mouth kiss, really just panted breath and tongue, distracts you further. A thumb at your chin keeps you pliant to whatever he wants.
He rocks deeper, as if it's possible. Surges right into that spot that curls your chest tight with rough fluidity. Your thighs fold wide to give him room.
One of your hands rubs at your clit to catch up.
“God, yeah, touch yourself for me.” Soonyoung whines. “Can you come again?”
He’s not just a sub, he’s a sadist.
“I—”
“Please,” he begs with a hard rush. 
“Yeah, okay,” you mumble. “Fuck me harder. Make me cum on your cock.”
You dig your free hand in his hair, tugging until it stings at the roots just the way he likes. The reward is another harsh rut of his hips that leaves you gasping for air. 
“Fuck. Right there, baby,” you moan along with the sloppy noise echoing between your thighs. “Don’t stop.”
You scramble to grab his ass, pulling him flush against you for the perfect angle to batter your insides. Your skins on fire as you tumble closer and closer to that point of no return. 
“Soonyoung!” you gasp. It’s right there. That blissful ending is just a hairwidth away. 
“God, you’re so hot,” he folds in half as he says it, crushing you underneath his body until you're bent in half in his lap with the wet of his tongue at your jaw. “Cum for me, cum on my cock.”
You twist tighter under his insistence, shrinking and shrinking, and then — finally — it splinters. The waves rock through you, head forced back into the pillows from the force of moans wrecking your throat. “Oh— fuck, that—god. Oh.” 
Vision black against the inside of your eyelids, you melt into nothing. Only Soonyoung’s grip keeps you from shaking apart into a million pieces as you whine into his mouth. 
“Holy shit, that was so hot,” he’s rambling the way to his own end, hips shaky from the way you’ve wetted his cock. “You’re so hot. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You want to watch him cum. Even if the temptation to lay there and take it is sweet you won’t give in. 
Bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat, Soonyoung is a mess in his own right. Pink at the ears, lips bruised. You can’t get enough. His eyes darken as you suck along his thumb, tongue lashing against the sensitive pad. Soonyoung isn’t the only one that wishes you got to suck his dick. 
“Cum on me,” you whine. 
He pulls out, quickly tossing the condom aside. Your hand is already waiting to jerk him off over your body, the grease of the latex making the strokes smooth as Soonyoung fucks your fist with the same desperation as your pussy. It takes only a few thrusts before you feel the heat of his spend drip across your chest and stomach. You’re careful to stay still, body spread flat as he coats you in pale streaks. 
“Fuck,” he gasps. He twitches when you don’t stop, biting his tongue through the sting of overstimulation until he has to pull away.
Soonyoung collapses to the side. Shoulder to shoulder, you catch your breaths in the dull thump of music.
“That was fun.” You pat his stomach before standing. The floor is a mess of clothes needing to be plucked through. His shirt becomes a cum rag as you wipe away the mess staining your body.
“You aren’t gonna stay?” He calls from the bed. 
“No?” 
Why would I? you think while pulling on your underwear.
Soonyoung watches, splayed across the bed with his dick still wet in his lap. “Then, can I, like, call you sometime?” 
“No thanks.” 
“If you keep being mean to me I’m going to fall in love with you.”
 “Quoting New Girl isn’t giving me much incentive to be nicer,” you snort, untangling your bra. 
“It’s a great fucking show.” 
“Here’s a tip: if you want to fuck me again, stop being such a loser.” 
“You still let me hit so I think you like losers.” 
He’s smiling. You really need to find your underwear so you can get away from it.
“I like hot guys with big dicks,” you shrug. “You happen to be that.” 
“I know you want me,” he sings
“Dead, maybe.” 
“You’d miss my stroke game.” 
“I’d love to stroke you.” You coo. “With a bat. To the head.” 
“I love when you talk dirty to me, baby.” He groans with dramatic flair. “By the way, you have cum on your skirt.” 
You do, on the hem somehow. A mystery to be solved when you’re safely back in the crowded expanse of a party and not alone with the guy with a tiger fetish you might want to fuck again. “Not the first time.” 
“God…. Please give me your number.” 
You can’t swallow the smile blooming at his request. Instead, you turn to leer over him. He’s watching your mouth, licking his lips like he wants to drag you down for another tumble. “Keep begging.” 
He’s got enough humor to get on his knees and clutch his hands to his chest pathetically. You’re still close, watching him down the slope of your nose while hiding a smirk. 
“Queen of my dick, please bestow a crumb of kindness and allow me the pleasure of hitting you up at 3 AM.” 
“That time I almost caved.” You back away just in time for him to stumble over himself. “Too bad I don’t fuck guys into furry shit at 3 AM.” 
“One, not a furry. Two, who do you fuck then?” 
“One, you're not fooling anybody.” You take extra time straightening out your hair in the mirror just so he can stare at your ass. You feel him do it. “Two, myself.” 
“I will pay real money to see that.”
“I know you would. So you’re never gonna.”
He’s watching you like some lovesick fool, glowing in the light with ignorance of what comes next. Part of you doesn’t want to crush someone as earnest as he is but staying the night is out of the question when you can still hear the party rattling through the walls.
“If I give you my number,” you start. “You have to give me this.”
It’s one of the smaller plushies. Soft to the touch and attached to his keys hanging by the door. It’s cute and perfect enough to satisfy your friends’ demands. Also, an excuse to see him again if you really want.
 Maybe you do. 
“TamTam?” Soonyoung asks from your side. You didn’t even hear him approach but he’s got boxers on so it took him a minute.
“You name your stuffed animals?”
“TamTam is special.” 
“Oh, he is?” you ask. “Well, how bad do you want my number?”
“I don’t know…” Soonyoung starts. 
Your face stings at the rejection but you bury it before giving it a chance to fester into something that needs thinking about. Looking back in the mirror to correct the smudges in your make is the only cover you’ve got.
“Okay,” he nods. “But if you do anything to him I will actually cry.”
TamTam is thrust into your hands and you can’t help but smile. It’s cute. Soonyoung is cute. And it actually might make you explode. 
You hate it.
“I pinky promise I will throw myself in front of a bullet for TamTam.”
He locks his pinky around your extended one, “Good.”
And then he’s kissing you again. Every thought melts away under his lips, soft against your own with a new sweetness. The edge of the dresser digs into your spine as he crowds you against it for more leverage but it’s merely an afterthought.
Soonyoung (not a furry): btw i lied [12:15 AM] Soonyoung (not a furry): im not hitting you up at 3am [12:15 AM] Soonyoung (not a furry): what are you doing tomorrow night (pls say me) [12:16 AM] You: tamtam and i are busy [12:33 AM]
Maybe you smile at the string of intelligible letters you receive after sending the picture of you kissing TamTam’s cheek. It’s no one's business if you do anyway.
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fyloe · 2 days
Text
My CoTL AU (Mostly backstory)
BLOOD TW & Yap session warning.
[I've simplified it as much as possible and included little pictures for those with short attention spans.]
This is begins before the slaughter of the lambs and the universe's rules are slightly tweaked, just a twinge... A wee bit. (I only say this because I either can't remember or don't know everything about the game).
It all starts with a little lamb named Marrei who's living in Anura with her parents. Her mother is pregnant/expecting soon and her father works from sunrise to sunset, food is scarce and they all risk starving.
Her mother continuously tries to give her portions to her frail and weak daughter (Marrei) only for her husband to stop her and force her to eat, sometimes he doesn't succeed and instead he gives her his portions to eat.
Marrei's father eventually dies of starvation and the pair (trio including unborn child) continue to eat whatever they can get from scraps, without her father around her mother continues to give Marrei all the food.
One day her mother leaves and does not come back.
Marrei waits inside that house for a week, almost weeks, before she exits. She finds her mothers corpse, her mother had left to die next to where her father lay. He wasn't buried, used instead for compost.
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(I didn't add much detail cause I'm lazy.)
It had been so long that her parents were thoroughly picked apart by birds.
So Marrei, in her little mind, was like "hey, don't baby lamb skulls make me live a long time or something?" So, she took her brother's (congrats, it was a boy) skull and brought it with her.
She just picked a random direction and walked, and walked, and walked... she just kept walking with no goal in mind.
For days.
For weeks.
Longer than she spent alone in her house, just ratting whatever berries or pumpkins she finds. She is kicked from many farms. She grows.
Eventually she happens upon a temple.
(This is where shit gets blurry as I have only got the back bones laid out, some areas have excessive minor detail whilst areas like this do not. Marrei could've gotten caught by guards or just knocked on the door, either way she ends up getting indoctrinated into Heket's cult.)
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Marrei undergoes the world's loooooongest training montage to level up from beta noob to level 99 Mafia boss and through the power of toxic Yuri she becomes the consort of Heket and they are gay for each other for a couple thousand years (she gets an official immortality necklace from her shawty).
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She basically becomes the words most humblest spoiled brat, getting gifts she didn't ask for all while continuing to be a nice soft person.
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(Marrei looooves gold.)
(These are the years she develops relationships with the bishops that come up after they become followers + other secrets that you only get if you stick around.)
Then it happened.
Marrei didn't know much about Narinder as he had only sought her out once and once alone.
She had unknowingly given Narinder a little push, fed the thoughts festering in the back of his mind, yet was completely taken by surprise at the news of his (albeit failed) usurpment attempt.
Marrei spends a while in depression, having lost someone she considered close even though they had spoken once (she's just nice like that) and everybody else she cared about (Leshy/Heket) was badly injured.
She was then promptly kicked out without warning or reason and banished from Anura by Heket.
In a panic, she finds her way into Darkwood as it's the only other place she knows.
This is essentially a period of inactivity, things happen but nothing too serious to write about.
Well, there's one thing....
But, that's a secret.
Marrei gets kicked out of Darkwood as well and then she decides it's time to just start walking again.
So she does.
She walks and walks.
Eventually, she ends up at the clearing Ratau shows the player and attempts to set up camp.
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Alas, she's jack shit at anything but sitting there and looking pretty so she struggles for a long time before meeting Ratau.
He helps her get set up and teaches her how to be an independent woman/is like her father because shes a fatherless idiot and Ratau isn't old enough to be a wrinkly old ballsack yet as he just got fucked over and fired from vessel duty.
You guys will never guess what happens next lmao
Marrei lays an egg!
*air horn sound effect*
(No, it's not Ratau's wtf...)
So yeah, that thing hatches and she doesn't know what to do. Marrei is a horrid mother and she cries all the time, she cries a lot. She is stupid, stupid woman. She is too busy living in the past and missing her shawty.
Ratau smacks her on the head with his stick a couple times... A lot of times.
Fun fact: The Lamb literally doesn't have a name, at all. Everybody just calls them Lamb, or The Lamb, or Leader.
This is because Marrei just... never named them.
Probably doing mushrooms or something lmao
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Marrei pulls on her big girl pants and gets her shit together eventually because she actually gives a shit about her kid, she's just a loser who has no idea what the fuck she's doing and didn't expect bro to pop out...
The Lamb grows up to have a close bond with Marrei and Ratau who occasionally visit like a grandpa.
When Lamb turns 18 they're like "can I finally leave bro, just for a little bit, I've never stepped foot out of this camp"
Marrei is like "FUCK NO!"
And Ratau is like "bro, chillax..."
So she sighs and allows them out.
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Only for Lamb to immediately get lost and be captured before being put to slaughter as 'The Last Lamb".
Lamb meets The One Who Waits and Narinder is like "lmao why u kinda godly or sum shit" and Lamb is like "brother what... Can I just die or go home like damn" and Nari like "shit calm down rude ass"
So Lamb returns home to a worried sick Marrei sobbing in Ratau's arms as the red crown's vessel.
The game mostly continues like normal, the bishops don't know the lamb is related to them and neither does the lamb.
Except after the slaughter of Leshy, Marrei distances herself from her child and then right after Lamb defeats Heket's final mini boss Marrei finally cracks and tells the Lamb everything.
Who their other mother is (don't worry how it happened, it's magic), That their half god/frog, Her upbringing, just... Everything.
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(This is old art, I just thought it was fitting lmao)
Lamb does the equivalent of saving and exiting the game, leaving the cult and going fishing or working on Sozo's quests or something.
Lamb continues their crusade through Anura in which you can get a new dialogue option with Heket where she (not by name) mentions/refers to Marrei, saying the Lamb reminds her of someone she once knew. She remarks on the familiarity of his bracelets they wear as similar to ones she had given to Marrei. (As Marrei had regifted it to the Lamb.)
While the Lamb is out they end Heket without informing her of anything, that Marrei is alive or of their relation.
Once again, the game pretty much continues as normal until the bishop's revival. (Besides the fact of Narinder being a smarty pants and figuring out that Lamb was related to him and being a pissy bitch about it, yapping about the irony of his siblings unknowingly losing to someone who's their blood--things coming full circle.)
There's very minor plot that happens after the game's technical end besides Marrei getting her closure and becoming a toxic old Yuri couple with her shawty, having another kid, Leshy being a fucking goober and getting into a throuple, and Narinder trying to be a not dog shit uncle...
So yeah, that's all!
I'm probably gonna remember a shit ton of lore later and be super angry like "stupid little fucking brain fuck you!" but like this post has been deleted more than four times and I've had to redo it so this so what you get have fun
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This post is dedicated to @owl-lady-lover, thank you for asking about my lore! :3>
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bullet-prooflove · 2 days
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TheStudy! Series Part Three: Deserving - Dean Archer x Reader
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @helsinkibaby @hufflepuffgirl @mimi-8793
The Study:
Part One: Courting Disaster - Dean realises Jack is courting you.
Part Two: Distance - Dean tries to discuss the distance between the two of you.
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At events like the drinks reception with the Board, you’re a show pony. Someone to parade around who can talk the talk and walk the walk.
You’re the Crockett Marcel of the Medical Examiners Service, Jack Dayton’s newest project.
You hate every second of it but the study it’s important, it’s making a real difference in people’s lives. You’ve seen what happens when people don’t get the closure they need, they end up on your table, just like their loved ones before them.
It’s past eleven by the time the reception begins to wind down, you’re tired emotionally, physically. You miss the evenings where you could curl up with Dean on the couch, dressed in nothing but his old Navy t-shirt as his fingers combed lightly through your hair.
You miss your husband a lot actually, the emotional intimacy, the physical aspect. It feels like you’ve barely been in his presence at all over the last few months. You know that’s down to you, this study and everything that comes with it. It steals away your time, your energy and if you let it, it’ll steal away your marriage..
“I’m starting to feel more like your roommate than your husband and I think that’s something we need to talk about.”
He isn’t wrong, he’s supported you throughout the duration of this study and you can barely spare him five minutes. You can’t imagine how much that must hurt because Dean, he’s always made time for you.
You’re staring out of the window when Jack approaches you. The other board members have filtered out of the conference room, there’s just the two of you standing in the dim lighting, surveying the twinkling skyline.
“I need to take a step back.” You say quietly. “Slow down a little, all of this it’s too much.”
“Too much for you or too much for Dean?” He asks and you can hear the distain in his voice.
“For the both of us.” You assert firmly because it’s not just your marriage on the line. It’s your mental health too, your facing burnout. You can feel yourself hurtling towards it because the workload, it’s too much. “I have someone who can help pick up the slack. Her name is Anita Lanik, I can go through her details with you tomorrow. She used to work with social services. She specialised in palliative care advocating for the elderly so she has experience and insight into the challenges we’re facing.”
There’s silence for a moment and in the reflection of the window you see Jack’s jaw clench.
“I don’t understand why you’re with him.” Jack says quietly as he tilts his head towards you. “All he does is hold you back.”
You can understand Jack’s point of view. He envisions himself as a white knight, plucking you from obscurity, elevating you. To him Dean is just a weight around you’re neck, preventing you from putting in more hours, more of your life into the program.
“You don’t know him, you don’t know us.” You chide because honestly you’re getting tired of the way he needles Dean. It’s clear that there’s resentment there, your just not sure where it stems from.
“I know you.” Jack tells you. “I know you deserve better.”
“Jack…” You say but his fingertips are already clasping your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his.
“I can give you better.” He tells you, his thumb trailing over the apple of your cheek. “Let me give you better.”
He kisses you then. It’s confident, forceful, the kiss of a man who  has never been denied a single thing. You pull away and Jack smiles, you place a palm on his chest lightly pushing him away because now you know what this resentment is about, why he despises Dean.
“I’m going home to my husband.” You tell him, picking up your clutch and heading towards the door. “I’ll send you Anita’s details in the morning.”
Love Dean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
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viviennelamb · 2 days
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Hi Vivienne!
I just started reading your blog and so far I love it. I just have some questions and I hope this doesn’t come off as mean spirited but I’m not very good with words and I don’t know any other way to say it: How do you cope with knowing that you may never have a friend group or a significant other because of your strong believes? Do you plan to live a hermet lifestyle or plan to pray for god to send you someone? Do you believe that we are meant to live a solatary lifestyle or that god would want us to commune with others who share the same believes or at least some of the same believes? How do you know? Could you tell me what qualities you think are good to look for in a friend? I didn’t have any friends in school and my Gran would always ridicule me as if it was my fault when I really did want friends but no one liked me because I was quiet and weird. She would say that humans are social creatures and too much loneliness makes you sick. She’s a single Christian lady with no friends herself if that matters. I never believed her because I thought I would be miserable either way. Until last year I made a friend with this girl in my physical therapy group (I shattered my leg skating) and we’ve been on many friend dates and FaceTime almost everyday to talk about everything and anything. We only known each other for a 8 months but I now finally believe what my Gran meant by humans are social and do better with companionship. I don’t know how to explain it but I feel so free, happy and loved around her. I feel like god answered me after years of wishing for a real friend. I won’t get into details but she really came into my life at a time where I almost lost all hope for myself. The only thing is before we were friends she used to have a boyfriend in high school for several years. We’ve never talked about boys or sexual things besides that I’m a virgin and she isn’t and ofc the boyfriend. After reading your blog I feel like maybe I’m wrong for being friends with her. Do you think I should ask her if she plans on getting another relationship or just wait and see? I heard her mom mention something once but she said she’s focusing on herself which I am too. I tried praying to god about it but I feel like it’s just radio silence. I erased a lot of my message because it was just rambling and oversharing but I hope this is enough for you to give me some advice. Thank you!
Hello, thank you for your question.
To clarify:
God doesn’t need coping mechanisms, but if an individual needs a coping mechanism, God will allow them to depend on it.
God is a friend of all, but if nobody wants to be friends with God, that makes no difference to her to perfection.
God loves and is loved by all, but if nobody loves God, God is the same with or without their emotions.
God is the community, but God is also the lack of a community.
God doesn’t need anybody to believe anything, but if an individual wants to believe something is true, God will allow them to have that belief.
God allows all free will, even if that individual wills to become a slave.
God doesn’t need prayer. God is omniscient and already knows what you want and will give it to you exactly when you need it.
God doesn’t beg for a person to come into her life, the person who wants to be in God's life will make the effort to do so.
I'm not trying to be a socially acceptable human being, I'm becoming God.
Found a new friend
I don't plan anything. The ego “plans” for a false sense of control.
If you believe that humans are social creatures, then it's true. If you want friends, a significant other and community, you're free to embark on that journey.
If you believe that being alone makes you sick, you can believe that as well.
Everything you believe communicates your state of consciousness, but there is no scientific evidence for anybody's “belief systems being true.” What is factual is irrefutable because it happens in real time. In other words, there's nothing to discuss about reality, let alone opinions to hold.
God gave you a friend, which is what you asked for. And you're asking me this question because you've become afraid of losing her, or you're thinking, “now what?” My following response will be in this context:
God typically gives somebody a reason to keep God alive in their hearts. You have a frame of reference on how to achieve the feeling of happiness, but if you depend on the material world for that happiness, it will become fleeting and a source of pain. What you feel with your friend is what I feel with God, except it's everlasting. I don't have to worry about God leaving me like a friend, family member or community would, and that has removed every burden from my life and resolved all of my deficiencies.
Your grandmother was right about what she said about loneliness, but are you sure she was “single” and “had no friends”? Do you think she was referring to God in these aspects? Most lonely people are married and have a large circle of friends. Most people that I've met who were dealing with depression and a lack of motivation got the world they wanted and plenty of support, yet they couldn't do anything notable with what they had.
One's loneliness is 100% dependent on their relationship, or lack thereof, with God. Period. I don't consider myself single and without friends, but an ego would. I consider myself experiencing life.
You should remain present with your friend. If you really feel the need to ask about her situation with her boyfriend, you can ask. Don't get attached to the outcome of this question, but if you keep this question burning within you, your health will pay for that as well. Now your state of happiness is at her will.
God is waiting for you to return your attention to the present moment. God is only right here, right now. If you pray with something else on your mind, God will stand to the side and allow you to pray to that thing. The nasty part is you genuinely believe you are praying to God, but you've made a material item (including people) your god. You're praying for that thing to centre in your life instead of praying for God, who is omnipotent, to become the centre of your life.
Once you start sincerely praying to God because you genuinely see God as a friend instead of someone to ask things for, then God will talk to you. This may take months, years, decades, lifetimes, depending on how long it takes you to realize that nothing in the world will give you lasting happiness. God is generous and forgiving, but shy.
If somebody only talked to you when they wanted something, but they never felt free and happy around you, would you be excited to talk to them? You would just give that person what they asked for and go back to placing your attention on people who adore you. Most people treat God like a shopkeeper, so that's the relationship they will have.
My experience with egos
If God wishes to place friendship, a significant other or community in my life, I will accept it and when they dissolve, I will accept that as well. I strongly prefer solitude right now because I want to place my attention on becoming a perfect meditator.
For the average person to feel good about herself, she needs to hold the idea in her mind that she is valuable because she has followed society's rules. When an individual can live completely and totally in the present moment without intrusive thoughts from the past, or how life "should be," she has attained consistent inner calmness and becomes soul-conscious.
It's impossible to be happy when you're not at least soul-conscious because the ego always has a new desire which will cause you to, define yourself by the outcome of those desires. This leads to an unstable sense of self, and many people are diagnosed with this ego-condition (such as BPD, narcissism, psychopathy, etc) when this state of mind becomes severe.
You know how some people are codependent and require somebody attached at their hip to feel secure? People who have always had their ego stroked everywhere they go in life? I've experienced the polar opposite of that. I've never felt close to anybody, nor have I wanted to. This blog is primarily for those people, as few as they are.
One time, while I was in a "friend group" I tried to communicate my feelings and a chick I wasn't talking to started yelling at me about “You know what I do when I feel left out?! I put in my fucking earphones” and she demonstrated her putting in her earphones in an exaggerated manner while berating me and foaming at the mouth. She hated my guts for whatever reason. There was another time I went to dinner with this group. Everything was fine until the same chick started yelling at me over of people's food about something random. Nobody cared. I told a dude who was also abused by this chick about the situation, and he couldn't believe that nobody said anything to her and said that they were all fake and enjoyed it. He was right. Anyway, it's my responsibility to leave when somebody shows red flags, so I did. Guess who the bystanders came running to when they became targets? Guess who didn't give a fuck?
I had another friend group make a separate group chat just to talk shit about me, even though I was the glue of the group. I went to each person's home to pick them up and dropped them off to maintain the relationship. The last time I engaged in free labor was when one of my friends was an hour late to walk out of her front door. I told her I waited forever, and she shrugged her shoulders and said called me her chauffeur. Couldn't even offer a pity apology.
My desire for a social life is at an absolute zero.
I have people in relationships ask me how I achieved emotional stability, yet they're all in relationships... Shouldn't they be the pinnacle of health? They tell me about their sadness, loneliness, their infections, etc, and I have nothing to say to that because when I tell the truth, I'm told I'm living life wrong and that I'm unhealthy. Now I'm keeping my unhealthiness to myself.
Since I live in the present moment, if somebody isn't right in front of me communicating with me, they're out of sight, out of mind. I don't feel any sort of emptiness or desperation to gain anything because nobody has anything I want. I don't feel the need to control others either, so their opinions don't matter.
Furthermore, I've never received validation, other than surface stuff. I don't see a purpose in having friends/a community; this is based on the constitution of my life path. Most may say it's unfortunate, but I got social liberation. I regret ever trying. I would've been so much farther along spiritually, but it is what it is.
Lifestyle
The lifestyle you're living right now is what God wants for you because you want it for yourself.
My belief system:
Everything is perfect.
Everybody is precisely where they should be.
God doesn't make mistakes.
I don’t have any coping mechanisms because I’ve cleared my Karma. I’m in a constant state of happiness/calmness. It's impossible for the Ego to find happiness. The Ego likes to overcomplicate life, trying to have his cake and eat it too. The day you realize you can't have the world and God, and live accordingly, is when the Ego dies.
Coping mechanisms are preferable to the Ego because he can still gain validation from the world while feigning a connection with God. Women’s collective Karma is being social slaves. I’ve transcended that. I do not gain what other people gain from relationships. Relatability, connection, and the like are what I constantly receive from God. Now I’m only interested in gaining complete control over the body and realizing the Truth.
In person, I'm friendly and agreeable because it's easy to be that. Resistance brings conflict and problems, I don't care to deal with. Most people mistake this for friendship when I'm indifferent to them. Even if somebody agreed with me… so? This level of freedom is intimidating to people because they're used to their egos being worshipped and ooh'd and ahh'd at.
Whether they’re nice or mean, both friends and enemies pretending to be friends have placed me further to the Truth, so I'm thankful for all of my experiences. They have murdered every false desire within me, and now I'm free. I don’t pray for egos to come into my life, I don't hate myself anymore.
I have God and Guru and that’s more than enough.
What should you do?
If you are doubting your friendship with this person, there’s a lesson incoming. Somebody who is satisfied with materials and worldliness wouldn’t read spirituality blogs, so your soul already knows you will not achieve everlasting happiness with this friendship or any other future relationship. The key word here is "lasting." Temporary ego-boosts are highs, but you will hit a low and that usually results in fallout within the relationship, which you will compromise to maintain. You probably won't understand this now, but you will when the time comes.
When you are ego-conscious, you’re a slave to vanity. You want your life to look a certain way so that you feel like you’re socially acceptable, but this is non-presence. Instead of thinking about your happiness, you’re thinking about how well you fit in. Having doubts about a relationship is a sign of fickleness. If you think this friend will abandon you because of her boyfriend, there is likely some type of discussion going on between your friend and her boyfriend that you’ve picked up on.
Everybody has their own karmic path. You can either find a way to live where you achieve permanent happiness or continue on the rollercoaster of fear, doubt, and uncertainty.
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zzzzzestforlife · 18 hours
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🖥️🖱️Software Engineer's Goals for a Long & Healthy Career 🌷
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i've been wrestling with this question for a long time: what are my career goals?
the problem is, this question easily becomes, "what should my career goals be?" which is the wrong question to be asking.
the more people i meet through my work, the more i see what different lifestyles and goals look like, and the more i'm able to crystallize my own ideal. this might change the more i learn, but for now, my main goal is to keep enjoying my chosen career path for a long time and here's how i'm going to do it:
🤗 be a people person
i'm an introvert-extrovert hybrid who can gain energy from both alone time and socializing, depending on the vibes, so i also want to improve my vibes that i give to people!
emulate the contagious positive attitudes of the mood-makers on my team — embrace the risk of awkward moments and silences, be curious! 😺
set up intros/catch-ups with coworkers again!! — i did this so much when i was starting out in my career that i think i burnt myself out a bit, but i want to slowly start back up again in a more sustainable way because there are some amazing people i've never reached out to because i've been too shy and now they've left the company, so i can't easily chat with them anymore ��
improve my mentoring skills — i had such good mentors when i was starting out and continue to be positively influenced by my senior colleagues, and i want to be the same source of support for my juniors! 🙏
🤖 lead more projects
from my past leadership experiences, i've been on the fence about whether i want this or not, honestly. "the responsible one" has been such a big part of my personality for so long that i feel like rebelling against it and trying to be responsible for as little as possible, but on the other hand, i also think it's a good kind of stress that i can grow from and that this is exactly the kind of skillset that will serve me well even if AI takes over my job someday.
❓ check assumptions — i tend to default to being a big picture person, but the big picture is made up of many minute details that are important to keep track of, so i want to get better at this. i know i can't think of everything, but i want to slowly become more observant and thorough 🔍
💬 improve my communication skills — i tend to get flustered when explaining technical details and sometimes even when i think of something, i hesitate to speak up. maybe this is more confidence than communication, but confidence is such a vague thing to try to improve on, communication is more concrete ☺️
🎧 treat coding time more sacredly
i start to get really stressed whenever i multitask, but i continue to do it because oftentimes it feels like it's the only way i'll manage to get anything done. still, i don't want to make it too much of a habit or i'll just keep burning out. i want to see if i can still be productive while doing one thing at a time.
🎶 put relaxing music on when coding
⌨️ consider blocking off focus time or at least setting a heads-down status on slack
📱 if someone messages you and it's not urgent, for the love of god, stop dropping everything to respond immediately and schedule it for later
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pcktknife · 6 months
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On a Genshin Poll from a while ago, you said that you could talk about Xinyan way more and it would be nice hear those thoughts! Xinyan is one of favorite Genshin characters (her design is so cool) so if you don't mind talking about her more, I'd love to hear it!
oh i didnt mean xinyan specifically in general i like talking about design (critiquing.nitpicking.praising.etc) so it really extends to most any of the characters. but you asked about xinyan so ill talk about xinyan. design wise shes very nice to look at for. her colors are all so warm with one of my favorite palettes (black/red/white). shes on the simple side compared to alot of other characters and i think its nice makes her alot easier to draw. pretty easy design to remember. for me anyway (big sleeves/braids.big collar. big hair.spikes) i dont really need to give specific reasons tbh her design is just really good. one of the pyro characters ever
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sntoot · 2 months
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told my brother i copied out all the conversation logs from pandae raids (including all the extra dialogue when they r just standing around but dont have the quest marker) with notes on where they were and such into a doc and he didnt even ask why he just said "when you got the pandaemonium autism"
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wantbytaemin · 7 months
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my god i just woke up from THE most detailed gentle and heartbreaking dream about jinki im in my bed like 😮 what was THAT
#so it was way too detailed for me to get into everything but it started with him being sad and like not wanting to speak to anyone#and i was sitting on the floor doing some writing & was like hi come here so he sat down like in between my legs and rested against me#i asked if he wanted to talk but he didn’t so i let it be and kept writing but couldn’t really focus#and then minho got there and was like ‘oh good he’s here’ and i was like what happened#and minho explained that like they were planning to do a world tour and album as shinee but jinki didn’t want to participate bc of the way#it was being handled#like there was a promo poster that was super insensitive towards jonghyun too#and a bunch of other things and then it flashed back to jinki filming a teaser for the tour and it was super intricate and too much for me#to type up right now but he looked so happy & smiley#like to make a point that he had wanted to be there until all the shit went down#and then it flashed back to me holding him and i stopped writing (or pretending to anyway) and just held him#there was no minho at that point and it felt like it was hours#and now i’m up and Shaken a little. not to be off the rails you’ll understand as I’m still affected by the dream but like it was so nice to#see him smile im still feeling the feeling like. relief and joy whew whatever he’s doing rn i hope he takes all the time in the world if he#needs/wants to & im grateful to have seen him smile even as a dream
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iftitah · 6 months
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<3
#my besties here at college#when i came in we used to talk about stuff and she'd get surprised and ask me how i notice such small things#and have detailed description of everything#and always made jokes on me being deep analyzer and taking things too seriously#it was fun mostly but one time she made it in front of bcg that was when i began to have crush on him#i got so defensive i actually said not my fault you view life so blantly and superficially#how can you not see the beauty that comes in patterns that must feel awful being that oblivious almost disrespectful to nature#and i said it ofc in the funny manner and that may sound really rude but she took it in a positive way#so she began taking interest in everything and started to try to discuss and know my opinions about everything#and i loved that there was someone listening so fascinately like a kid#simultaneously she uses a lot of shuddh hindi vocab not even adults speak like that#and it was just weird to me to listen them in normal conversations#but since ive been good at hindi literature and have a good vocab i tried it too#used to feel so awkward at first almost like the words took too much effort to come out of mouth#because obviously i grew to learn the internet slangs and their medium is english so my mode of expression in hindi was#but now she surprises me with talking about things and noticing what escapes my attention#and i have to mock her say its not that deep#and i while speaking use too many shudh hindi words and then when she can't find a word i think before and give synonyms as well#and we both laugh#ive said this before ig
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galacticlamps · 13 days
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actually ascension needs its own post since that's the one with the most details to speculate over and im starved for soho talk so i will talk to myself if need be
First the cover again, because I kinda can't get over it:
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my only thing is that I had been hoping we might get Lizbeth on a cover again since she's never been on one of the boxsets before, despite being the 2nd person credited on all 4 of them (even if that's just alphabetical, still, she's the only one of the four main characters who never makes the cover)
But letting that go...
I know we already kinda knew the brief for this one but damn I didn't expect it to go quite this hard. Maybe that's just because the Parasite & Ashenden covers were (comparatively) similarish to each other and I was so pleased with Unbegotten's, and then got so used to it as the placeholder for Ascension while they kept postponing it, I wasn't expecting anything this colorful or detailed or with what I can't help but register as Fun New Outfits even though these are still like, pretty damn basic as far as costumes go. Still, it's a different vibe from everyone in suits and trenchcoats on every cover, technically. (Oh the woes of being an audio fan such that two characters owning sweaters actually does qualify as new information)
On top of just being visually delightful though, I know we knew religion was gonna be a fairly big part of this one, but I didn't actually expect to get quite this much of it - though I'm glad of it for a number of reasons. The BF twitter already made the ineffable joke so I don't have to, but also yeah I did very much spend all of season 2 episode 4 of good omens half convinced Samuel Barnett & Dervla Kirwan were about to pop up around any given corner (if you will go around being gay supernatural and horrible at your messy bureaucratic jobs in midcentury soho then I'm sorry, this is where my brain's gonna go) - so, fuel to that fire. But in terms of actual important things, at least one of my Soho wishes looks to be being granted because we have a Rev Edward Folgate on the cast list, which must mean we're finally meeting Norton's father, even if his mother & brother don't appear (which they could, technically, I've definitely seen BF not list all the doublings on their cast tabs before). Religion, domesticity, and the nuclear family are all things that absolutely fascinate me when it comes to Norton's character, so getting any amount of story involving his father & his church is something I've been actively hoping for for a long time now.
(I will say I'm a tiny bit bummed Saffron Coomber isn't on the cast list to play Mia again, but I kinda figured she wasn't going to be since Greg Austin's Armitage, who's making his first recurring appearance after originating in Unbegotten, was listed ever since the boxset was announced - presumably if she was also returning, that would've been handled in the same way. But since Unbegotten ended with Lizbeth and Mia going on a date, I still held out hope. Who knows though, maybe things did go well for them and Lizbeth just has a better work/life balance than Norton so she can date someone without them getting dragged into every scifi plot. I know that's not a very common accomplishment for any Torchwood agent, but a gal can hope)
At this point I know I'm completely in the realm of speculation & even wishful thinking, but I'm really really hoping we get some more clues as to Norton's overall timeline in this one, and I have a feeling that even if there's nothing as direct as dates given, the events of a plot like this one are going to heavily influence my personal interpretation of it.
To say that life & death are major themes for the soho crew feels wildly reductive, but even by Torchwood's standards and taking into account its origins as a piece of media with Jack Harkness & his newfound immortality at the heart of it, the living/dead status of this bunch has always been fantastically up in the air to me. Obviously Ghost Mission introduced Norton as kind of a ghost before revealing more obvious ghostly characters later on to which the title might have been referring, but his being from the past did beg the question of his survival into Torchwood's present era all the same, which Outbreak later alludes to much more directly, and his habit of showing up via hologram in multiple stories only further obfuscates any certainty we might have about where & when he definitely can be said to be alive and well. Then you've got Lizbeth and Gideon both being effectively 'brought back to life' via paradoxes that prevented them ever having died in the first place. Again, they are very very far from being the only Torcwhood characters this happens to (for a sprawling EU, it's really rather impressive how often & in how many different ways Torchwood as a whole manages to circle back to being about like. chaotic undead queers at the end of every day. though I suppose that consistency is part of why I keep falling in love with its different iterations again and again). That's without even getting into the question of Norton's dubious fate in God Among Us - and I say dubious because I know some people take that to be his ultimate death, but I personally think that reading something as vague as that as having any kind of finality rather goes against the spirit of this whole world/series, not just because I want him to live. (There are obviously other ways to make him survive/reappear, but I don't see this as a River Song scenario where we can safely assume one of his earlier-released adventures had to happen at the end of his personal timeline). But wherever God Among Us falls for him, he does very much meet God in it - or at least, a god, since the sentinel in Unbegotten is also described as a god of sorts, and even if he doesn't ultimately have the status of the god Jacqueline King is playing there, Unbegotten is still full to bursting with ghosts/undead/came back wrong/echo characters to continue underscoring that life/afterlife theme.
So all things considered, even allowing for the fact that we know Norton's twin hobbies are lying about himself and abusing time travel to suit his own ends/ever-shifting alliances, I find it difficult to believe we could get through a whole 6-part boxset about religion & death without something providing some kind of compelling evidence about where this adventure fits in among his other run-ins with apocalypses and gods and ghosts and dead-but-still-here characters/creatures, so I'm very much looking forward to any further exploration on that front.
And lastly, and least intellectually, I really want to know what the hell 20th-century Torchwood's obsession with Reginalds is. Reading through the cast list, I had to do two separate doubletakes over the character 'Sir Reginald Peebles' - firstly, because I had Reginald Rigsby on the brain, this being Soho (and the other Troughton brother being so active on BF's releases for this same month) - and secondly, because reading this in conjunction with the announcement for the July monthly adventure in which the new main Torchwood guy of the 20s is apparently called Sir Reginald Dellafield, there was a brief moment where I took that monthly release to be a tie-in with Ascension. I don't expect it to be, but damn. was it really so popular a name?
anyways, catch me thinking about those stained glass windows for the next couple months I guess (and knowing Torchwood Soho, for a long long time after it comes out as well lol)
#torchwood soho: ascension#let's start with the most obvious shall we? behind norton - hellfire or divine radiance? whadda we think?#i know one's much more likely for him but also consider: he's been a fairly good boy by norton standards anyway lately#well i say 'lately' like i know when this takes place#idk why but i kinda feel like this starts very soon after unbegotten#comedy is probably why honestly. since that ends with them being like hey! something went right!#i think ever since i first heard that i was like ok cool so the next installment's gonna be something earth shatteringly bad#& it's gonna kick off dramatically literally one second after this scene ends right?#not that it wouldnt be nice to have some (clearly-defined) timeskip there#tbh i feel like that's the one thing that's missing with soho sometimes - those little medium-sized gaps in continuity#where either speculation or even a missing scenes style fic would go#between parasite & ashenden lizbeth was dead and andy wasnt in the right era for soho shenanigans#and norton and gideon went through SO much offscreen (offmic?)#rebuilding torchwood and starting a relationship and breaking up and getting possessed by space eels and destroying torchwood again#that's like... Too Much to analyze/meaningfully discuss without a few more details from canon#and between Ashenden & Unbegotten it's very unclear how much time has passed#norton certainly seems affected when he sees gideon again for the first time but we also know he went there for him so how long was it?#that and we have literally zero explanation for what andy's doing in the 50s in that one to begin with. has he been there continuously?#or did he leave and come back? if so did norton even have to try justifying it to him?#or does andy just accept at this point that he'll be summoned for anything norton feels is noteworthy? honestly either's plausible w him#but also we have so little confirmed about what torchwood looks like at this point in time!#maybe andy gets summoned for all missions bc he norton and lizbeth are virtually the only agents left after gideon quits#there's just a few too many things unexplained/alluded to for me to go total total fandom mode on this#speculating & theorizing about everything that happens off-audio#doubtless this is mainly bc of norton's general untrustworthiness#like im sure a different main character would've left the audience with fewer uncertainties after this many hours of storytelling#but with soho im still left needing just a tiiiiiny bit more before i feel im knowledgeable enough about the situation to expand upon it#in the traditional fandomy 'transformative' way#right now most of my fanning over it is just speculation about what precisely we can be confident in from the dialogue we do have#but i'd like to go further than that truly. these characters captivate me. obviously.
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