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#let me know if you want more
darthxdaddi · 8 months
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Male entertainer | Anakin Skywalker 18+
This has been on my mind since I rewatched magic mike lmao. Let me know if you would want to see me actually write about this 🤭
Also I feel like this song is definitely playing in the background 👇🤸‍♀️
I like to imagine that Anakin is a male stripper in his spare time. Like he goes to the lower levels and dances to get some extra credits. I like to imagine that he has rip-away pants that exposes him in his g-string that he performs in, but doesn't wear them regularly. He's a boxer breifs kinda guy. Damn does his body look amazing, probably oiled up to show off his glorious abs. Maybe he should get a size up in his thong though, his bulge looks like it might explode the fabric.
Anakin dances to some cheesy strip club song like, "Take You Down" or "Candy Shop", but looks damn sexy preforming to them. He puts on a hell of a show for those fucking credits that he's desperate to get his hands on, hoping he can buy some more parts for the speeder he's been working on lately. Anakin's muscles ripple and flex as he works his way around the stage, grinding and gyrating his hips. The crowd is eating it up, loving the way he looks on stage.
Anakin kinda chuckles to himself when he sees you from the stage. What the hell are you doing at a male strip show in the lower levels, seeing your best friend practically shake his ass for some credits? Anakin thought this was the best thing ever, dragging you on stage and giving you a lap dance. He would make intense eye contact with you as he sat you on the chair, towering over your frame as he grinded almost sensually on you.
Anakin would whisper things like, "Im going to touch you here, okay?" Making sure you knew his next move in the performance and weren't uncomfortable with his touching. He would pick you up with one arm, showing his strength off to the crowd while he basically humps you in the air. Anakin was having a blast while you on the other hand, were as red as a tomato. Anakin sat you back down on the chair and smirked as he spread your legs open and turn around so his muscular back was facing you, grinding on your lap so close to your most sensitive area. This probably wasn't aloud at the club, but he didn't care because he was racking up the credits.
He knew that this was probably embarrassing the hell out of you, your fellow Jedi friend grinding on you for hundreds of spectators watching, throwing credit chips on stage which clanked againt the flooring. But this is what you get for sneaking around the lower levels, a face full of your friend's abs and ass.
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nostalgic-shamefest · 9 months
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What your favourite Better Call Saul character says about you according to me:
[hyper specific]
Jimmy: people didn't come to your childhood parties and even though you got really popular in college that feeling never left you
Kim: you thought I was gonna say over achiever? nope. But your older sibling is
Lalo: horny get help. / Incel to phonk edit to gay pipeline
Nacho: you're silly but you wish you were serious. You think a lot about how you would die easily in the apocalypse.
Gus: you go on webmd for fun and say slay when you're sad
Chuck: you suck ass and you're the grammar police
Rebecca: you go on incognito mode and search "how to be the cool aunt"
Howard: you've got the kind of daddy issues where your dad was too good of a person
Mike: you've got regular daddy issues and you say "don't talk to me until I've had my coffee" unironically
Tuco: you'd like to top a butch cis man so bad it makes you look stupid
Marco: you always wanted a pet lizard
Leonel: but parents bought you a goldfish instead
Manuel Varga: you want to volunteer at the community center but you keep making up excuses and you don't
Francesca: you like being told what to do. You had a crush on your principal growing up
Huel: cracking jokes is your coping mechanism but you carry a deep sadness within you
Bill Oakley: you're getting too old to call yourself a twink and that's giving you a mid life crisis / you're a mom of three
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fauxdette · 3 months
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A Court of Truth and Light Pt.5
Summary: Elain tracks Azriel down at his private residence to get answers about the night of Winter Solstice
Warning: Mild smut
•••
Azriel had convinced himself that Elain wasn’t made for the Night Court like her sisters. That she belonged in a court with expansive gardens and perpetual sunshine; Spring with Lucien or even Dawn.
But her kiss tasted like fresh snow. Like the first powder in the Illyrian Mountains. Like something wholly familiar and yet a pleasure Azriel had never experienced. She tasted like she was made for him.
Time itself stood still.
She pulled away, touching her hand to her mouth as if to keep the sensation of him there.
He couldn’t think, couldn’t even stand straight. His forehead pressed against her shoulder and he lifted his chin to kiss the skin there. She ran her fingers through the back of his hair in response.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Two thoughts hit him simultaneously; that he should stop and that he would never be able to stop. Not now. Not when she stood before him like this, nipples peaked against her silk dress. Her arousal like honey to his senses. He would die before he stopped and even then they would have to pry him out from between her legs.
She looked at him and smiled.
Azriel kissed her this time. Hungrily. All his restraint, unleashed.
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thenightcallsme · 7 months
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Dove | Simon "Ghost" Riley
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A/N: Hello lovely people, I have a backlog of short stories written for things like Avatar: The Way of Water, MWII, Stranger Things, The Arcana, Outer Banks, and many more that I have never posted and keep to myself. I'm talking hundreds of pages worth of fluff, angst and eventual smut - you've got to get through some plot first, though. HOWEVER, if anyone likes my writing and wants to task me with stuff to write, like straight smut, I'm all ears. Anyway, if anyone is interested in reading stuff I could potentially post, here is a snippet for a little Call of Duty fic.
Synopsis: You're to play the materialistic wife of a rich, well-connected husband during an undercover mission. You're to-be husband is a temporary recruit of the 141, who is to supervise your every move. While getting ready, you have a surprising interaction with your Lieutenant, Ghost, who you swear has made it his mission to treat you like a stranger day after day. Until now.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
Contains: pretty much nothing of importance, just Ghost being as unreadable as ever, causing reader to have their mind blown by the smallest of crumbs
• • • • •
I look in the mirror at the woman who is supposed to be Lyanna Winstead. She’s the partner of Dario Winstead, son of a wealthy businessman. Everything about Lyanna is a carbon copy of myself. Her smile, her hair, her figure, her voice. Only, she presents herself in a way I haven’t in a long time.
Gone is the tactical gear and camouflage colours. Instead, she wears the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen. The outline of the dress is simple yet captivating to suits the old Hollywood theme. Silver cascades down her body, creating the illusion of a mercury waterfall. The sweetheart neckline and thin straps compliment her full breasts and soft arms. Adorning the bodice are glistening silver designs that remind me of old, swirling boarders on French mirrors. The designs fall away, melting into plain silver threads that fall to the floor and pool at her feet. The dress hugs her body like a second skin, only melting away at her knees. The silhouette fit her hourglass figure well.
The silver jewellery she wears is modest so as not to take away from the dress’s magnificence. On her neck is a dainty Vivienne Westwood necklace, the inner planet of the pendant a pearl. Matching dangling earrings hang from her lower lobe piercing. The rest of her ear piercings are small diamond studs and silver hoops. One wrist displays a thin diamond tennis bracelet and a Van Cleef one with emerald clovers. On the other is the only ode to myself: the evil eye bracelet I never take off. The thin silver chain and bejewelled eye thankfully blend into the rest of the accessories. Small rings cover her fingers, few in number and easily ignorable. The bands are thin and any jewels are small and clear. However, one stands out; a breathtaking sight on her left index finger.
Glittery diamonds cover the band, giving way to a large, circular moonstone. Rainbow shimmer comes to life in the milky stone when the light hits it just right. Separating the band and the centrepiece are two small flowers with diamond centres. Two separate rings sit beneath and below the main one, shaped in V’s to follow the curve. At each point are flowers similar the the others, with curved leaves flowing from the petals. All three are gold, contrasting against the silver to make a statement.
I’m not just looking back at Dario’s partner. I’m looking at his wife.
I’m Will’s wife. 
Fake wife, really. I nearly shake my head in wonder. I still look like myself, but everything about this makes me feel like I’m wearing a second skin. Lyanna’s skin. Every so often I stare at the ring in amazement. If anyone ever proposes to me, I would hope for nothing less than the magnificent that is this ring. All that adorns my body is courtesy of Will. Unbeknownst to me before this mission, he’s filthy rich, and a filthy rich man needs a filthy rich wife. All the designer jewellery, the dress, the shoes, and the engagement ring are authentic and top dollar.
After the last touch-ups of make-up, fragrances, and hair, I’m making my way to the courtyard. I’m to have one last briefing and run over of the plan before getting in Will’s blacked-out Corvette. I have to give it to him: he really knows how to pull off a lavish life with style.
Already am I wishing to rip off the damn stilettos on my feet. While I could live in the dress and jewellery, this is the one day a year I’m willing to wear heels.
The air is cool, the last golden light of day painting the courtyard and walls of Alejandro’s HQ in a luminescent glow. A low rumble fills the air from my 'husband’s car. Will leans against it, speaking with the 141. Ghost lingers back by the front door, arms folded and back leaning against a pillar. Weaving between his fingers with precision is a small dagger. His head turns at the sound of approaching heels.
“Was starting to think you were a no show,” he says gruffly.
I stop beside him to adjust my dress. It doesn’t really need adjust, but suddenly being subjected to his gaze makes me anxious. “Told you it would take a while. Gotta look the part.”
The way his eyes travel over my body almost makes me shrink away. Every curve is on full display. The tight bodice holds up my already full breasts, and somehow my waist-to-hip ratio is even more accentuated. Wearing my uniform doesn’t exactly hide my figure thanks to the tight shirts and cargo pants that aren’t exactly loose from my mid-thigh up. However, a lot of me is lost beneath the vests and belts.
“Stop...inspecting me, or whatever you're doing,” I mumble. “Makes me think I need to fix something.”
I begin taking the skirts in my hand as I survey my descent. It’s not too much, but the steps are steep enough to be an issue. The heels on my feet are no help.
Ghost shakes his head. “Don’t. You look…”
“Important?”
“Pretty.”
I stop in my tracks to look back at him, unsure if I heard him correctly. He doesn’t look away or seem embarrassed to have said so. Then again, when does he ever. No-nonsense and prideful in his emotionless character, Ghost is not one to regret his words. Everything he says is a calculated move. Compliments are certainly something to be calculated in a sense, but I don't think of it to be a compliment, even when a small part of me screams for more. I'm playing my part well; there'd be a problem if I wasn't looking pretty. A slow smile quirks at my lips, teasing in nature as I raise my brows. The teasing turns to surprise, however, when he offers me his arm.
“How chivalrous,” I quip as I lightly take his offered arm. Even the slightest contact sends thrills beneath my skin. “Careful, Lieutenant. I might start to think you actually like me.”
Ghost’s eyes train on the ground. At first, I wonder if he doesn’t want to meet my eyes, only then to realise he’s watching my footing. I barely catch a glimpse of his squint.
“I like you in one piece,” he corrects. “This job will be over the second you sprain your ankle on a flight of stairs.”
I hum. “Ahh, there it is.”
He looks up at me then. “There’s what?”
“Thinking about the job, as always.”
As always, I keep my tone light and teasing, but there's an accusing hint. A subtle jab I let slip that I pray goes unnoticed.
There's no room for emotions in this job, and though I've compromised that with the rest of the 141, Ghost is a difficult case. An impossible riddle, a mind-numbing equation with no real answer. Nothing about him should be likeable. He's painfully honest and dismissive when he bothers to speak, he's angry half the time, his attention is never lingering and his mind is an impenetrable fortress. It would make more sense to give in to Alejandro's shameless flirting or Gaz's sleazy grins. Only, it's Ghost that keeps me up at night. It's Ghost, who sends a pang through my chest when he reminds me any care is from pure investment in performance. I'm useful, nothing more.
I can count on one hand the number of times he's thrown me small morsels of care as if I were a stray dog whining and begging for food. Even then, I wouldn't have made it past three fingers. A greedy piece of me spins those memories into something that serves my desire. See, he's returning your interest, that hopeful voice purrs in my ear while feeding me botched versions of what really happened. I know better than to give in to the delusions. The ending of those memories is what sobers me, and it's no different now. I need you in shape for tomorrow. Keep your head in the game. I'm just making sure this isn't interrupting the job. He's always quick to redirect any concern from me to the job.
Maybe, just maybe...what if he was trying to save face? Does he not want to care?
Ghost remains silent for a moment. In consideration or because he doesn’t care to answer, I can’t tell. But when he does answer, his voice has my full attention. It’s low and rough, each syllable laced with something intoxicating. Something I've never heard before and never thought I would hear. Something I want to hear again and again.
“You have no idea what I think about, dove.”
Dove.
The response catches me so off guard I almost forget to take another step. We’ve reached the bottom of the steps, now. The second both my feet are on the flat expanse of the concrete driveway, he breaks away from our linked arms. There is no follow-up, no hint of a miscommunication, not even a look in my direction before he's gone from my side. All I can do is hesitantly trail behind him, lost in my thoughts.
Ghost has never given me a nickname before. Hell, he barely refers to me as anything other than my callsign. When I do hear my real name, it's never for good reasons.
The nickname that pours from his lips comes in a deep voice curled into a sensual tone, sounding like silk-covered marble, low and intended for my ears only. It's strangely intimate—something a lover would purr with lustful eyes and a seeking touch. Somehow it seems to invoke a phantom touch that glides across my skin. Gooseflesh puckers in its chilling wake. In the span of only a few seconds, I seem to experience every emotion humanly possible. Shock, surprise, a sickening, perverse enjoyment...and irritation that I must now join the rest of the team as if a mind-numbing heat was not boiling in the pits of my stomach
• • • • •
I'll get the formatting of posting these to be prettier btw I promise 🙏🙏 But anyway just interact with this or tell me directly if you want more.
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digenerate-trash · 5 months
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pls…how will yan avery react if you do something to embarrass him in public like at one of those parties….im so thirsty…….
You and me both brother.
(Gonna do some high rage Avery)
You could see Avery's face burn red across the room. You've been such a terror this evening. Making crude jokes. Being less than polite to the host, even at one point refusing to indulge Avery with a dance. He was paying you after all. Any request he made of you should be accepted and carried out with enthusiasm. But this was the last straw. 
Seeing you across the room flirting with another guest. They offered you a drink and you accepted it readily. You continued to laugh along with the other guests and you seemed... happy, Genuinely. You looked so relaxed.
This must be some kind of slight against him. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Why were you being so difficult today? He's done nothing but indulge you. He knows that without him you'd be doing far worse things for a dollar. 
Avery can't bear to make a scene. He can't let anyone here know that some small part of him breaks in two whenever he sees you happy with someone else. So he makes his excuses to the host before going to grab you. 
His touch is gentle at first as he leads you away. But as you get farther and farther away from the party Avery's grip tightens around your wrist and his polite smile morphs into a scowl.
Avery's mind is poisoned with thoughts of you. You've consumed the better parts of his rational thought and the only parts that remain are the ones that need you to only have eyes for him. 
he slams your body against the side of his car and grips your chin forcing you to meet his gaze.
You're not sure what he's searching for as he silently glares through you. Every time you shift or squirm his nails dig in more and he growls a bit.
When his little inspection is done he opens up the back of the car and shoves you inside. You're a bit worried about the silent treatment he's giving you but hopefully, this is just your average tantrum. He'll call you a worthless whore. And besides some bruises, you'll be fine tonight when he drops you off. 
But when Avery starts to drive off it's getting more and more clear that he's not heading back to the orphanage. 
You start to worry a bit. Hands shaking as you drive in silence. Every once and a while your eyes meet in the review mirror. He's still pissed. You barely even know what you did wrong.
Avery pulls into some kind of vacant lot. The car parks and your breath hitches a bit before Avery gets out of the car. Opening up the back door and yanking out out by your hair. 
It hurts- but Avery has been rough before. 
He shoves you to the ground the pavement scrapes your knees and the cool night air sobers you up a bit. 
"Apologize," Avery demands. 
You know it doesn't matter if you've done anything wrong or not. Avery doesn't care about reason. He just wants you to whimper out something to make him feel better. 
"I'm sorry-" you say. The words are quick. Usually, just an apology is enough to calm him. 
"Again," Avery says. He's still angry.
"I'm really sorry." You spit this one out. Like it tastes bad. 
Avery still isn't satisfied. He glares before kicking you sharply in the stomach causing you to cough and lean forward a bit holding a fast-forming bruise 
"I want you to mean it this time. Say sorry like you mean it!" 
"S-sorry-" you stutter a bit your stomach hurts, and tears prick at your eyes from the pain. 
"Better," Avery says before kneeling and lifting your face gingerly. His expression has softened a bit but he still isn't done. 
"Now say "I love you"." He whispers his thumb stroking your cheek
This is new... he's never demanded this before... he's never wanted anything more than polite arm candy and sexual favors... but this is worse somehow. 
Your hesitation seems to bother Avery and he pinches your cheek a bit. 
"Say it." Avery spits. "Say it like you really mean it as well or this night only going to get worse."
"... I love you..."
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teecupangel · 8 months
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Hello. I wanted to ask for some thing soft and heart warming for assassins. These guys rarely get enough kindness. The life of an assassin is just too dark and full of violence for a human. They can hardly trust, hardly love, hardly enjoy the moment and worse ot all "They didn't even choose to live like that." They were just humans wanted to live but turned into killing machines is just... not fair. These guys(Altair, Ezio, Desmond) really need some one to take care of them after hard missions, heal their wounds, hear their words and help them get through all rough things ahead of them.
If you don't mind it would be perfect if you use the wild assassins that were some times behaving like animals. Use girlfriends, friends and boy friends or whatever that is better. And I think it would be much more exiting if Altair had joined Maria during her journey. That during a fight Altair lost his controll and even hurt Maria but she just calmed him down so he wouldn't get afraid to get close to people he loves.
Anyway I love you. I love your blog. Take care of yourself angle.
I know you wanted a Maria calming Altaïr version for this one but this idea just wanted to be written. I hope you still enjoy this:
.
Altaïr
The first time he held his son in his arms, he didn’t know what to do. He had never held a baby before and he looked so… fragile.
Altaïr had been afraid.
Afraid that he would hurt such an innocent small child.
Yet, Maria was patient with him, whispering softly to not wake the child.
Although Altaïr couldn’t help but think she was trying not to spook him instead.
He was warm.
And so small in his arms.
Altaïr couldn’t believe it, couldn’t even fathom the very idea that this was his son.
That this child was a gift, created with love that Altaïr never dreamed of ever having himself.
So when the child opened his eyes and stared at Altaïr with such curious trusting eyes…
Altaïr couldn’t help the tears that fell from his eyes.
He couldn’t help the way he leaned down, touched the baby’s forehead with his gently…
As he whispered…
“Hello, Darim.” His voice cracked as he continued, “I’m your father…”
And saying those clumsy awkward words…
Made everything feel real.
He was a father.
He had a son.
And, even as tears continued to fall from his eyes…
It was the happiest day of his life.
.
Ezio
Leonardo did not ask any questions, he simply opened the door to his workshop and guided Ezio to the small room with a bathtub with a gentle push. Ezio’s hands were still drenched in the blood of Uberto Alberti.
The rage had come to pass, leaving Ezio feeling… empty.
He needed to return to his mother and sister.
He needed to get them out of Firenze.
But…
His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“It’s alright, Ezio.” Leonardo whispered softly as he took Ezio’s hands, helping him take off…
Clothes that felt so big…
Clothes that didn’t even belong to him.
No.
It belonged to him now because…
Ezio’s breath hitched as Leonardo washed away the blood and sweat with water. Once the water ran clear, Leonardo guided him into the bathtub and Ezio’s muscles relaxed even though his mind stayed in that ever cycling limbo of alertness and numbness.
“Take your time, my friend.” Leonardo whispered as he patted Ezio’s shoulder, “The guards will not come here.”
Ezio nodded and closed his eyes, letting the water warm his body.
Just for a few minutes…
He’d stay here for just a few minutes…
Once the water is cool and the guards have stopped looking for him…
He will do as he must…
As an Auditore.
.
Ratonhnhaké:ton
The homestead was too quiet.
It had always been shrouded in silence but…
Now that Achilles was gone…
It had become too quiet.
“Connor!”
Ratonhnhaké:ton stepped out of the office where he was planning out the next convoys just in time to see the door open.
“Hello, Hunter.” Ratonhnhaké:ton greeted with a nod as the young child grinned at him, holding the door knob with both hands raised above his head.
A few feet outside, he could see Warren waving at him.
Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded at Warren before his attention was caught by Hunter, “Mother’s cooking looots of food for my birthday! You must come!”
Hunter gave him a grin that showed some of his teeth still missing as he asked, “Please? Pllleeeaassseee?”
Ratonhnhaké:ton chuckled as he nodded, “Of course. It would be an honor to celebrate this wonderful day with you.”
Hunter grabbed his hand with both of his hands and Ratonhnhaké:ton let the child drag him out of the silent manor.
A small smile appearing on his face as they walk towards the tavern instead of Warren and Prudence’s home.
The tavern was noisy, filled with the merry voices and music.
And Ratonhnhaké:ton chuckled when Maria, Ellen’s daughter, grabbed his other hand as she began to tell him about the feast everyone was making…
To celebrate Hunter’s birthday.
And when he got inside, Prudence wrapped her arms around him, thanking him once more for being there to help her.
And Ratonhnhaké:ton’s smile grew.
As the noises of merriment warmed his heart.
.
Desmond
“You’re gonna get a cold if you stay out like this.” Rebecca commented as she placed a blanket over Desmond’s shoulders. Desmond simply hummed as he kept his attention on the evening sky, littered with so many stars.
“You okay?” Rebecca asked softly as she sat next to Desmond.
The back garden of Villa Auditore wasn’t as maintained as it used to be but Rebecca couldn’t help but think it was just as beautiful as it was before.
“Yeah. Just…” Desmond looked at his hands, “Had an episode.”
“Oh.” Rebecca hesitated for a moment before she asked, “Want to talk about it?”
“I felt him.” Desmond said quietly, “Altaïr’s son…”
“Eh?”
“He was… so small.” Desmond dropped his hands and sighed as he looked up at the sky once more, “And… I felt Altaïr’s…”
“Happiness.” Desmond said so quietly that Rebecca almost didn’t hear him.
Desmond sighed as he admitted, “Sorry. Just… wanted to get some fresh air after that.”
“Don’t worry about.” Rebecca’s lips curved into a small smile as she said, “I told Lucy and Shaun that the Animus needed some time to update anyway. And…”
Rebecca leaned close as she whispered, “The update won’t finish until I type the code.”
Desmond turned to look at her as she leaned back, blinking with an unsure expression on his face. Rebecca’s smile became gentler and she patted Desmond’s back as she said, “So… take your time, Desmond.”
Desmond’s eyes briefly widened before he looked away.
He kept his eyes on the evening sky as he whispered, “Thanks…”
Rebecca simply patted his back once more and said nothing more.
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more snippets of the neil josten taylor swift au-
dress is the andreil song.
"I don't want you like a best friend"/ "Everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing"/ "You made your mark on me, golden tattoo"/ "Flashback when you met me Your buzzcut and my hair bleached Even in my worst times You could see the best of me Flashback to my mistakes My rebounds, my earthquakes Even in my worst lies You saw the truth in me"
if that's not them i don't know what is.
marjorie was written when mary died, neil didn't want to use her real name so he chose that.
suburban legends is about neil thinking that he and kevin were destined to be the perfect jock/artist couple bc thats what the media said but everything went to hell.
my tears ricochet is about riko moriyama
in king of my heart, the lyrics
"Cause all the boys and their expensive cars With their Range Rovers and their Jaguars Never took me quite where you do"
is a joke w andrew bc he doesn't have a range rover or a jaguar, he has a maserati.
would've could've should've is about growing into the moriyama family.
the story of us is right before kevin leaves and their relationship is deteriorating
wonderland is 100% about kevin
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emptybeb · 26 days
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Arkham Knight au time 
Ok so I’m heavily basing this off of @thesandsofelsweyr Arkham vers (be warned there is a LOT of smut on that blog)
For instance the torture part and his mental state more on that here https://www.tumblr.com/thesandsofelsweyr/740160937663856640/does-ak-jason-got-mindbreak-from-his-torture
Also the dehumanizing stuff like the whole nine yards
But then what if he died during that time…
What if he end up in hell what if he met Alistor
and he just thinks alistor is the joker and starts fallowing him because the joker was the only person who ever wanted him
and alistor looks at this sad little rat boy and goes is anyone going to adopt this pathetic child and does not wait for an answer.
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Here what his demon form would look like
So just let me know if you guys want more 
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rock-n-macabre · 3 days
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Love's a Burning Fire
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I held onto Severen's arm, begging him he doesn't have to do this and to just let Caleb go so we can leave to the next state like Jesse was saying. "He ain't worth it, Sev! We gotta make tracks before the sun's up again!" I pleaded. It fell upon deaf ears. When Severen wanted something - there was no stopping him.
"Dontcha worry that sweet li'l head of yers, darlin'. Imma get my spur back , then we can mosey along to the next spot. Easy." He gave a reassuring grin before making his way onto the street, preparing to take on Caleb.
It looked like Severen was getting the upper hand of things, which was a relief...that meant we could get back on the road quicker than I expected . But that all changed when an 18 wheeler came down and Caleb went running up to it. I saw Severen pull out his pistol and a grim grin came across my face. Sev had the best shot and guaranteed this would end the showdown.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
I damn near choked on a laugh seeing Caleb get into the driver's seat, which obviously Severen found downright hilarious as he stood smack dab in the middle of the road , taunting the boy. Suddenly the truck came barreling towards Severen...and the damn lunatic still didn't move. I kept shouting for him to get out of the way, while respecting his wishes for my safety to stay out of it while he handled things . It felt like my slow beating heart would drop out of my ass when I saw Severen get creamed by the truck. I've seen him go through worse - this was probably just foreplay to Severen- but it still was brutal to watch.
I watched in anticipation hoping Severen could recoup so we could just leave already.Suddenly his mangled self comes up onto the hood of the truck and goes to dismantle it. This oughta stop Caleb...it must..but once again, wrong. Caleb made the damn thing jack-knife and explode after he ditched it and ran off. I could hear Jesse and Diamondback approach the site after a few moments , while Mae and Homer stayed back. Diamondback told me to come along as Jesse wanted to end Caleb for good despite Mae's protests. I shook my head, claiming to meet up with them... I just needed a moment. They nodded and went off on their hunt for Caleb.I fell onto my knees and sobbed.
My mate was gone.
My lovable, pain in the ass goober that was always wisecracking...gone. I looked on the ground to find one of his trophies off his jacket on the ground, and picked it up. I ran my thumb over the detailing and clutched it close. I wasn't ready to lose Severen. He made it this many years and THIS is how it ends? Life just wasn't fair.
Suddenly a pair of boots with one rowel-less spur stood in front of me.
"Y'gonna sit there and mope all day 'r are ya gonna gimme some sugar, darlin?"
I looked up to see Severen looking beyond worse for wear, completely annihilated. The healing process taking a slower time regenerating himself.
"Sev! I thought I lost you!"
I choke on a sob as I held onto his leg, refusing to let go.I felt his boot nudge itself into my nether regions as his fingers wound themselves into my hair and gently yanked my head back to meet his gaze.
"Ain't nothin like bein close t' death that makes one feel so alive. I reckon yer heart Mus' be doin' flips by now... how 'bout we celebrate before headin off...whattaya say darlin?"
I have no time to respond as he manages to pull me into the alleyway and pushes me onto the ground. He continues as he grabs a hold of me, his strength still strong yet his body slowly stitching itself back.
"Now I need some time to get my britches back in line...how 'bout you en'ertain me some, sugar? Then we can mosey along to Jesse and the gang."
I bite my lip as I gather the hint he is conveying. His smirk becoming more apparent as his body makes its way to becoming itself again.
"Anythin ya have in mind, Sev?" I question as I go to unzip his leather pants, but his hand bats me away.
"I wanna see ya get off on me. Show me how bad ya need me." He smirked coyly as his boot tapped my nether regions again.
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armysonemeu · 5 months
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C1 Ep27 Vexleth moments:
Vex says Keyleth is badass when she casts Faerie Fire and gives them all advantage plus reveals the wraith they were fighting. (Spolier: Vex loves saying Keyleth is a badass throughout the campaign)
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dc-himbo · 7 months
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Jason x Transmasc!Reader - Early Morning Rambles
Don't mind me, I just need to get these thoughts out of my head. Most of these are NSFW. You've been warned. Minors dni, obviously. Just did reader because that's popular here and honestly I'd like to see myself in these anyways. Fair warning, there is use of fem terms to describe specific body parts. It's not that I don't want to use gender neutral or strictly masc terms, it's just a personal preference of mine as a TransMan. Also warning for use of pet names, daddy kink, sleepy morning sex, we gotta fuck now sex, praise....I think that's everything.
Also, I am intentionally using he/him pronouns and not using you/yours. Let's get to it.
Note after writing: Might switch to you/yours. It's not confusing for me, but I can see how it would be for others. Jason's POV. Also I got carried away. Hehehe
Jason loves lazy early mornings. He loves the sunlight streaming in from the curtains. He loves the warmth of it on his skin. He loves the way his boy looks cuddled under warm blankets and pressed close to him.
He gets caught up in it. He gets overwhelmed by the warmth and the way his body fits perfectly against his own. He can't stop touching him. He has to. He has to know he is really there and that this is real and not a dream. His fingers trace over his spine, he gets lost in the feeling of soft warm skin.
It's not enough
Fuck.
It's just...it's not enough.
He's selfish. He needs more. Wants more. He wraps his arms around him and pulls him closer. One arm around his waist, the other around his chest. Jason's lips press soft, slow, lazy open mouth kisses to his neck.
Pretty boy
Sweet boy
My sweet boy.
Jason still can't believe that he's the one who gets to see him like this. Who gets to touch him...kiss him. He should let him sleep, but he can't help it. He just fucking can't help it. He needs to touch you. He needs to have you.
Now
He needs him now
Jason's hands waste no time sliding down down down until he's dipping fingers in to gather wetness so he can slide his fingers over his little cock. He knows how he likes it. He's fucking memorized it. Burned it into his brain so he will never fucking forget. Slow soft steady strokes that have those little noises he loves falling from his lips as he starts to wake up.
"Jay...what are...ah..."
He never gives his boy time to get this thoughts together. To wake up fully. No. He wants him like this. He wants him soft and warm and thoughtless.
"Morning Pretty Boy." Jason loves how he moans at the praise. "Tell me what you need." He would give him the world if he asked for it. He would do anything for him. It should scare him. It does most days. But mornings like this he doesn't let that fear distract him.
His boy takes too long to answer, but Jason doesn't care. It gives him time to suck a few hickeys down his throat, to stroke his fingers over his boys cock, to dip his fingers inside his tight hole and stretch him open. Get him ready. He loves this. He loves working his boy up until he's moaning and panting and arching against him. Until he's desperate and needy. Until he's begging for him.
"Jason please. Need you. Fuck...please fuck me."
Finally.
Fucking finally.
It's effortless. Fuck...it's too easy. He wastes no time in pulling his leg up. He wastes no time as he lines up and slides inside him with a groan. Jason is overwhelmed by how good he feels. Overwhelmed by tight walls gripping him and milking him and fuck fuck fuck fuck.
His boy is cumming.
Fuck
"Love my tight little boy's pussy...'m close baby. So good. So good for me." Jason get lost in praise. He can't stop telling him how he feels...how good he is...how much he loves him...how much he loves his body.
Jason feels like he cums against his will. He slams deep, holds himself there as he fills him up. Jason isn't done. No. He can't be done. He doesn't want to be. He needs to feel his boy squeeze him again. He tell him as much as he strokes that little cock until he is cumming hard, arching and gasping and begging and saying his name like it's fucking music to his ears.
Jason loves lazy early mornings. He loves how he looks in the sunlight, all flushed and sweaty and sweet and dazed. He loves seeing his boy fucked out. He loves him. He loves him. He wraps his arms around him and kisses over the marks he left on his neck. He loves him. He hopes that will be enough to keep this for as long as he fucking can.
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sea-owl · 1 year
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The Lily Ball
Inspired by @thekatebriderton post found here:
and my own post about the Bridgertons practicing arranged marriages found here:
For those following into the colinverse, this is baby Colin's universe!
-
Fifteen year old Simon watched as the countryside rolled by the window. Normally when Eton would give a break to their pupils he would stay in his dorm, much preferring that than going back to his father's properties. But when your aunt is Lady Agatha Danbury, and she tells you go somewhere because you were invited as her plus one to a country house party you go. So now Simon found himself sharing a carriage with a fifteen year old Anthony and a thirteen year old Benedict Bridgerton as they made their way to Aubrey Hall.
"Thank you for allowing me to join you," Simon said, slowing his words so his stutter doesn't take over.
"Don't thank us yet," Anthony warned. "Mother and Father are probably trying to see if they can match you to any of my sisters."
"Do you really think Father and Mother will try to find another match during this break?" Benedict asked.
Anthony snorted. "They will not rest until every single one of us is paired off."
Ah yes, the famous Bridgerton arranged love matches. The family practices arranged marriages but every single one ends up turning into a love match. Every matchmaking mama wants their child to be one of the lucky ones, but no one was quite sure what the Bridgertons were looking for when making those matches. They were not afraid to bypass heirs for second or third sons, they did not care if your family was old money or new money. Simon has heard stories of one cousin who was arranged with a privateer, and another a medical doctor.
Of the current Bridgertons though Simon believed he remembered Anthony saying that only two of the six were matched up. Anthony being one of those two, the other was a third daughter?
"Not our third sister," Anthony corrected. "Our brother Colin is matched to a third daughter."
Benedict let out a laugh. "That he matched himself to."
Before Simon could ask what the brothers meant the carriage stopped.
"Well here we are."
The boys were met with two couples and Simon's aunt. The boys greeted the hosts first, Viscount Edmund Bridgerton and Viscountess Violet Bridgerton first, before turning to the second couple. Simon would later learn this is Mr. Miles Sharma and his wife Lady Mary Sharma aka Anthony's future in-laws. Finally Lady Danbury demanded their attention before they were sent off to the playroom where the other children were.
In the playroom was one other boy around eight stuffing biscuits in his mouth and five girls ranging from ages ten to two.
Anthony walked over to the ten year old girl, giving her a mock polite bow, while she rolled her eyes. The little three year old girl next to them laughed.
Benedict leaned closer to Simon. "That's Kate Sharma."
"Anthony's fiancé?" Simon asked.
Benedict nodded. "The only girl I have ever seen out stubborn Anthony. Colin, the one who is currently stuffing his face with biscuits, and I are betting how long until they start arguing. The little girl by them is Edwina, Kate's sister."
"And the rest?" Simon asked. He could guess what their names start with, D, E and F, the Bridgertons famously named their children in alphabetical order, but that was about it.
Benedict pointed to the seven year old, the three year old, and the two year old. "Daphne, Eloise, and Francesca."
Daphne looked excited to see her brothers. "Yay! We were about to play house!"
Benedict and Colin let out a groan, but one look from Anthony had them quiet.
"I will be the Mama." Daphne pointed to Anthony and Kate. "You two will be the aunt and uncle. Edwina will be your child."
Daphne whipped back around to Simon. "You will be my husband, Eloise and Francesca will be our daughters."
Simon nodded, feeling like it was better and safer to play along rather than deny the eldest Bridgerton daughter.
"And Colin will be our son and Benedict will be the butler!"
"What!" Colin exclaimed. "We did not agree to play house!"
"Relax Colin," Benedict said. "We're older than Daphne, we don't have to listen to her."
Daphne huffed but then looked up at Simon. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen?" Simon said, though it sounded more like a question.
Daphne smiled a smug smile. "Ha! Simon is older than both of you! You have to listen to him!"
Benedict and Colin let out another groan.
"Just play for a little bit," Anthony ordered.
Daphne grabbed Simon's hand. "Come husband, we must get our children ready for the ball."
"O-okay," Simon stuttered. He winced. He'll have to be more careful the rest of this trip. Though to be fair he was not prepared for someone like Daphne Bridgerton.
The children spent a good hour "preparing for the ball." This included actually decorating the room to an agreed theme between Kate and Daphne. Simon could't tell you what the theme was but if he had to guess it was something to do with flowers. They kept Benedict busy by having him running around between the two pretend families.
This left Anthony and Simon in charge of their "children." Anthony easily took to it, fixing Edwina's little misplaced hairs. Simon had a little bit more trouble.
Simon awkwardly shuffled as Colin, Eloise, and Francesca all stared up at him. Finally Eloise broke the silence.
"Papa aren't you going to help us get ready?"
Simon had to stop himself from falling over. Papa!? Where-what?
Edwina's giggle broke Simon out of his thoughts. The little girl was hugging Anthony. "Thank you papa!"
Oh right, they are playing pretend house, and Simon is their pretend papa.
"O-of co-course," Simon said.
He started with Colin and fixing his cravat, wiping off the crumbs. Then Simon straightened out Francesca's leading strings so she would not trip over them. Eloise was the biggest challenge as she had somehow had half her hair out from the ribbon it was previously in two seconds ago.
"Let me help husband," Daphne said, coming back over to their pretend family.
Daphne had taken Eloise's hair completely out of the ribbon, redoing into a braid that is somehow both neat and messy in a way only a child's hands could produce, and then tie it off with Simon's help.
"Thank you Mama, thank you Papa," Eloise said.
The little family of five then began their walk to the ball across the room where Anthony and Kate stood waiting for them.
Anthony and Kate both bowed their heads. "Thank you for coming to the Lily/Tulip Ball."
Kate turned to glare at Anthony. "It is the Lily Ball Anthony!"
Oh so that's what they're supposed to be. Simon would have guessed daffodils.
Anthony looked around at the decorations around the room. "That is not a lily Kate, it's a tulip."
Kate glared, clearly offended. "Anthony Bridgerton! Do you not know your flowers? Do you need spectacles?"
Now Anthony was glaring down at Kate. Which was funny sight since Kate was at least a good foot shorter than him still. He was about to say something else when Daphne interrupted.
"Thank you for inviting us to the ball, Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton. It all looks lovely."
Colin shot Benedict a triumph look. Guess Simon knew who won the bet.
"Enjoy yourself . . . um" Kate paused. Anthony leaned down to whisper something in Kate's ear, who nodded in understanding. "Duke and Duchess Basset."
Well at least they didn't use Hastings.
During their pretend ball somehow more treats appeared for them to snack on, and the nanny that Simon had not noticed before started playing the pianoforte for them so they could dance. Benedict was promoted from butler to suitor so they would have more people to dance with.
At one point Colin looked over at the door and his face lit up. "Pen!"
This caused everyone else to look over. In the doorway was four more children ranging from ages eight, five, and three, and their nannies.
Colin rushed over to greet who Simon thought was his fiancé. Colin surprised him when he scooped up the three year old red head in his arms instead of the blonde five year old.
"She's Pen?" Simon whispered to Anthony.
Anthony nodded. "Penelope Featherington. Colin's been claiming she's his since the girl was practically born, practically matched himself to her."
"Does he know what that means?" Simon asked.
Anthony shrugged. "Not sure, but Mother and Father found it suitable enough to officially match them. They'll have the longest match out of any of us."
Kate and Daphne went to greet the other children in the doorway, and then proceeded to pull them into their game of pretend as other guests to the ball.
Kate announced them in age order. "Arriving is Lord Michael Stirling, Lord Phillip Crane, Lady Sophie Beckett, and Lady Penelope Featherington."
Colin immediately swept Penelope away over to the food. The little girl giggled the way young children do.
Eloise looked ready to follow them when her eyes narrowed in on the book in Phillip's hands. From what Simon could tell it was a children's book to help them start reading.
Eloise pointed at the book. "Can you read?" Eloise questioned.
Phillip nodded, hugging the book closer.
Eloise grabbed one of Phillip's arms, attempting to drag him over to one of the sofas pushed back to make the dance floor. "Read to me!"
Phillip obedintly followed. Opening the book his words were slow, but confident. Eloise followed along by pointing at the words, and sounding a few of the letters with Phillip.
Another song started up and Simon glanced back at the dance floor to see Benedict had offered to dance with Sophie. She looked so excited just by the simple dance, and the steps Benedict was teaching her.
"This is so much fun!" Sophie giggled. "Much more fun than at home!"
"I'm glad you're having fun Lady Beckett," Benedict said, setting Sophie off in another round of giggles.
"Oh my," Daphne gasped, now back at Simon's side.
Simon looked in the same direction as Daphne, and he also watched curious.
Francesca had toddled over to Michael, her eyes wide in wonder. She gripped onto his coat sleeve as Michael got down on his knees to be at eye level with her.
"Hello Princess," Michael said.
Francesca stared at Michael a bit longer before exclaiming, "Mine!"
Simon had to hide laugh at Anthony's jaw drop at his youngest sister's declaration. Daphne was laughing too before dragging Simon to the makeshift dance floor to avoid Anthony's outrage.
Edmund and Violet Bridgerton watched their children from the doorway. The Lily Ball as the children had decided to call it was coming to a close with one final dance.
"I believe we may have found matches for our other children," Violet whispered.
"I believe you are right my dear," Edmund whispered back. "I shall speak to their parents after dinner tonight."
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chemicalcindercat · 1 year
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Guardian Angel I
Read part two here
“Uncle Daryl, are you my guardian Angel?”
The question came late one night, as Daryl was putting the kids to bed.
“What?” Was the best response the man could come up with, taken aback by the suddenness of it. “Where’d ya get that idea?”
“Well,” Judith started, scooting over to make a spot for Daryl on the bed beside her. He sat down and waited. “Some of the girls at school were talking about it today. They said that everyone has a guardian Angel.”
“Oh yeah?” Daryl prompted for her to continue. He was surprised, to say the least; Judith didn’t usually feed into that kind of stuff. He pulled the blankets back for her and she moved herself under them, shifting around until she felt comfortable.
“Yeah. I told them they were full of shit.”
Daryl’s eyebrow lifted a bit in amusement. That sounded more like the kid. He was surprised he hadn’t heard from her teacher about that.
“They said that guardian angels watch over you and keep you safe,” Judith continued. Daryl leaned over her to tuck an already sleeping RJ in. “And as long as they’re around you’ll never get hurt.” 
Daryl grunted in response. He had never believed in angels, or any shit like that. Not in the world they lived in.
“I thought it was a lie, but then I got to thinking.” Judith yawned and snuggled deeper under her covers. Daryl let himself smile a little at how adorable she looked as she tried not to fall asleep. Those big brown doe eyes of hers bore into his with such trust and love. It amazed him how she was full of so much innocence still, despite the things she had witnessed and lived through. He’d make damn sure she got to stay a kid for as long as possible, apocalypse be damned.
“Your vest has Angel wings on it, and you keep us safe. You’d never let anything hurt us, right?”
Daryl’s heart and face softened in unison, and he brushed her hair away from her eyes “Never,” he promised. It was barely more than a whisper, but she had heard him. She smiled softly and her eyes finally drifted close. She was asleep within seconds, but Daryl didn’t move, taking a moment to think.
He’d do anything for these kids. He’d never, ever, ever let anything happen to them.
Well, shit, by that definition, maybe he was a guardian Angel.
Hell, if that’s what she wanted, so be it. He’d be anything she wanted him to be.
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dalsimoravskyblog · 5 months
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Došlo na to, pustila jsem si Nemocnici na kraji města. Víc než 15 minut nedám, protože jsem mrkev, nicméně report, protože cítím, že to bude divoká jízda:
první scéna se nejdřív jeví akčně, chlap po havárce sedí v autě politý červenou barvou jak ve středoškolské produkci Drákuly, přijde random doktor z ulice, vleze k němu, změří mu tep, nic neřekne, vyjde, přijede sanitka, udělá to samé, doktor z ulice a doktor ze sanitky si vymění ten nejdřevěnější dialog o ničem v historii dialogů, konec scény, znělka – literally nic mě nemohlo navnadit víc
Eliška Balzerová přichází do nemocnice, kde je okamžitě vystavena sexismu, protože si dovolila být ženou, co pracuje v nemocnici, ale není zdravotní sestra
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(A vy jste jako doktorka? Bitch, please.)
doktor z ulice je doktor Sova mladší a jede na oslavu svého desetiletého manželství do domu svého otce, doktora Sovy staršího, okamžitě je established, že je kokot (mladej Sova)
následuje další sexismus, tentokrát vůči studentce medicíny
následuje hate crime vůči internistům, kokot vyslovuje chirurgie supremacy
primář Sova does not approve this message
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(the disrespect)
poprvé potkáváme Kopeckého a jeho chlupy na hrudi, je ikonický od první minuty a zjevně nejlepší herec z celého ansámblu, okamžitě pozuráží zdravotní sestru Ivu Janžurovou (konečně vím, kde vzala moje babička svou oblíbenou hlášku "kdyby hloupost nadnášela, tak se tady budete vznášet jako holubička"), ale nechová se sexisticky k Elišce Balzerové, takže skóre je vyrovnané, tak bych to řekla
Eliška Balzerová hodí vočko po krásné zdravotní sestře, důležité
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(když ty a tvůj šéf koukáte na stejnou ženskou)
střih na oslavu, Sova mladší je ještě větší kokot, Sova starší does not approve, následuje zvláštně sexuálně nabitý přípitek Sovy staršího s Danielou Kolářovou, jeho snachou, která zjevně trpí s tím kokotem, jeho synem
jde se operovat, někteří do toho jdou na prasáka holýma rukama, i když předtím vošahali celou nemocnici, někteří si nasadí rukavice, které předtím vošahali těma holýma rukama, v sedmdesátkách by covid nepřežil nikdo, ty vole
And that's what you missed on Glee! Nemocnici na kraji města, episoda 1/20, prvních patnáct minut
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shadowbrightshine · 15 days
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Mercury Smith, the accountant.
Part of the original story I've been working on for awhile. It doesn't have a real title yet. It's meant to call back to the older British style of narration from the books I grew up on. Set in the Liminal space pools, meet Mercury the accountant who has at least 1 eye and isn't human.
Mercury Smith looked up from his sketchbook, stretching the eye over his head. This wasn’t his office, it wasn’t the accounting building either. He blinked, opening his other eyes and taking a moment to get his bearings.
His chair was sitting at the edge of a concrete tide pool, shoes soaked with salt water and a few tax forms being ruined as they floated away before melting into little wood pulp blobs that sank to the bottom. They looked sad, as if they wasted their lives by becoming paper only to be useless in the end.
Mercury didn’t know how to feel about this. On one hand, this was a nice change of pace. He always wondered what it would be like to leave his office. The hallway looked rather interesting, and he’d heard good things from his coworker who worked there over the phone about it. On the other, he was pretty sure rooms didn’t suddenly decide to stop being rooms.
He couldn’t be certain, being just an accountant, but he was 90 percent sure that rooms couldn’t do this, because rooms couldn’t decide anything. Rooms were not alive, they were designated areas in a spatial context, framed by at least four walls and a door. If there wasn’t a door, it was a box, and if there weren’t four walls, it was a corner. The ceiling and floor were usually a given, but he’d heard of rooms without either of those, though how people got work done in one he couldn’t imagine.
Whether or not a room could choose their existence for themselves was less important than his now wet socks. He frowned, removing his shoe wearing feet and replacing them with his casual feet. Much better. These feet were also ruined, so he tossed them out into the pool of water. They splashed and sank, though unlike the papers they looked rather excited to spend their lives beneath the water.
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I just watched an episode of the Simpson's for awhile it's one of my comfort shows and I saw a scene where ned's son said if you die with I have to live with uncle something and his funny friend and I quote ned replied "I would walk both of you to the bottom of a lake before that happened" and I realized how ned is the perfect example of "but he's not homophobic/rascist/transphobis.ect because hes so nice ned is the perfect neighbor hes supposed to be shown as kind and caring and warm and bubbly....unless your different than him in literally any way like homer treats him like actual horseshit and he doesnt care because hes a white (yellow) straight Christian man but he hates pagans and gay people he literally sent a mob after lisa and her friends after seeing her 'pretend' to be a witch in her room he was willing to kill a bunch of kids bc he saw them being different as evil and I think this speaks volumes about the people of our World like just bc they treat you and see you as a human doesnt mean they wont turn on you in the blink of an eye if they think your queer or that they will treat your queer or poc friend/s ned Flanders is a great guy...unless your different
I really want to write an essay about this so if anybody wants it let me know lol
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