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#Night Of The Endless Beyond
zattirizat · 2 years
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Lord of the Isles, Night Of The Endless Beyond albümünü ESP Institute etiketi ile yayınladı
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Neil McDonald’ın projesi olan Lord of the Isles ambient, hiptonik ve tekno tınılarının bulunduğu yeni albümü Night of the Endless Beyond’u ESP Institute etiketi ile yayınladı. 2021 yılında biten ancak plak basım sürecinde bazı sorunlardan dolayı devamlı ertelenen albüm nihayet dijital ve plak formatında yayınlandı.  Aşağıdan dinleyebileceğiniz albümü bandcamp üzerinden edinebilirsiniz. Lord of The Isles - Night of the Endless Beyond 
Night Of The Endless Beyond by Lord Of The Isles
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cosmictapestry · 2 months
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currently consumed by thoughts of dreamswap aus. like. morpheus lucienne corinthian switching places. every single iteration is so mmmmnjuicyweird. the power dynamics. the Implications. the trying to figure out who the fuck lucienne would be as a nightmare.
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bookgeekgrrl · 2 months
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My media this week (31 Mar-6 Apr 2024)
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lady constance is a seven foot tall badger and knows acab
📚 STUFF I READ 📚
pretty much nothing! It was a rough reading week! The first part of the week I was fairly consumed with the D20 I was watching & not reading much. Then I spent FIVE DAYS reading a little over half of a 258K fic before finally accepting that though it was pretty well written and not bad, I just wasn't into it and the thought of fighting thru another 120K was appalling, so I bailed.
and I did read about 20K of shorter stuff but nothing I want to shout out so.
📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺
This Is Going To Hurt - s1, e1
QI - series S, ep 10-12
Death In Paradise - s11, e2-3
D20: Mice & Murder - "The Stabber of the Evening" (s9, e4)
D20: Mice & Murder - "The Eye of the Storm" (s9, e5)
D20: Mice & Murder - "Busted" (s9, e6)
D20: Mice & Murder - " I've Been Here the Whole Time" (s9, e7)
D20: Mice & Murder - "Outfoxed" (s9, e8)
D20: Mice & Murder - "The Belly of the Beast" (s9, e9)
D20: Mice & Murder - "Unfinished Business" (s9, e10)
D20: Adventuring Party - s4, e4-10 [Mice & Murder]
D20: Fantasy High: Junior Year - "Infernal Conflict" (s21, e13)
D20: Adventuring Party - "All Pulp, No Juice" (s16, e13)
🎧 PODCASTS 🎧
What Next: TBD - The Psychological Toll of Mars
Working - How a Magician Designs Original, Mind-Blowing Tricks
Hit Parade - The Bridge: Like a Revamped Stone
Worlds Beyond Number - WWW #7: Kahuna
WikiHole - Greek Easter (with Ellie Kemper, Josh Sharp and Aaron Jackson!)
Welcome to Night Vale #245 - Fridge-worthy
Worlds Beyond Number: Fireside - Fireside Chat for WWW ep7 "Kahuna"
Today, Explained - Making taxes less taxing
I Said No Gifts! - Tig Notaro Disobeys Bridger
⭐ Switched on Pop - Cowboy Carter: This Ain't Country
Consider This from NPR - Measuring The Economic Impact Of Baltimore's Port Closure
Pop Culture Happy Hour - Beyoncé's Cowboy Carter
⭐ Vibe Check - This Ain't Texas, This Is Vibe Check
Better Offline - Wikipedia Is All The Web Has Left ft. Molly White
Wiser Than Me - Julia Gets Wise with Bonnie Raitt
Short Wave - How To Make The Most Of Next Week's Solar Eclipse
Ologies with Alie Ward - Heliology (THE SUN/ECLIPSES) with India Jackson and Michael Kirk
99% Invisible #576 - Chambre de Bonne
Worlds Beyond Number - WWW #8: The Catch
Twenty Thousand Hertz+ - Untranslatable Words
Pop Culture Happy Hour - Ripley
Song Exploder - Shania Twain - You're Still The One
Off Menu - Ep 238: Katy Wix
Worlds Beyond Number: Fireside - Fireside Chat for WWW ep8 "The Catch"
Choice Words - Live in Fear or Love? (with Karamo)
What Next: TBD - Truth Social’s Rocky Week
Short Wave - The "Barcodes" Powering These Tiny Songbirds' Memories May Also Help Human Memory
⭐ Pop Culture Happy Hour - Monkey Man And What's Making Us Happy
The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Nevada Week: The Martin
Endless Thread - Nerd Fight
Strong Songs - "The Way" by Meshell Ndegeocello
Today, Explained - The Sephora kids
It's Been a Minute - Is DEI a slur now? Plus, control & basketball
Radiolab - The Moon Itself
Choice Words - Choices We Made: Stay Silent or Sue the Cops? (with Eric André)
Wait Wait… Don't Tell Me! - Chris Pine
Worlds Beyond Number - WWW #9: The King of Cups
Worlds Beyond Number: Fireside - Fireside Chat for WWW ep9 "The King of Cups"
Under the Influence - Cheeky Advertising
In Defense of Fandom - Season 2 Episode 1: What makes a TV ending?
Dinner’s on Me - Kristen Bell
Dinner’s on Me - Dax Shepard
🎶 MUSIC 🎶
Louis Jordan
Ozzy Osbourne
Meshell Ndegeocello
Cowboys + Queens
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Vast domain: at the end of your street is a stand of trees, and one day you duck beneath them for shade. The trees go on further than you thought, and you have a few minutes to kill, so you step closer, looking at the bark and the branches. It’s beautiful, so you stroll further into the trees, and the trunks grow wider, and the trees grow taller. You wonder at the difference in the light, before realizing there is no direct sunlight. You turn around to walk out, but there are still so many trees. It’s getting later and you’re beginning to be worried, so you climb one tree, hoping to see your street, your house. You finally find sunlight, but looking around you, all you see is a sea of leaves, rustling in the pale autumn wind. Climbing down the tree takes so much longer than climbing up, and as you drop to the fallen leaves beneath you, you feel the age of the forest on every side. It has lived so much longer than you have. It spreads further than you can walk. You can pick any direction you like, but it won’t matter. Leaving is no longer an option. The forest is endless. Are you?
Ohh damn I love the idea of the Vast as an endless forest. Y'all are so good at this I love your actually well written mini statements they fucking rock.
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groupalpha · 1 year
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[LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Endless Beyond, Ruby Skies by Sapphire Shores, Last String of Life
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vaamins · 21 days
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LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who just couldn’t stop turning his eyes towards you during class. watching your furrowed bros in thought of something Yaga said. he couldn’t care less though. he thinks you look beautiful deep in thought.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who constantly yaps about you to suguru and shoko who tell him to shut up whenever ( he never listens though ) but he continues to go on a rant about how your the most perfect person he’s ever seen, he’s ever known.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who is somehow stuttering mess whenever you speak to him. finding himself tripping over his words like a lovesick Highschool girl. his mind races in thought of trying to impress you with witty jokes.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who later regrets ever saying anything when he revisits your conversations. groaning into his pillow as a light blush dusts his cheeks at the image of you laughing at his joke.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who personally helps you in mastering your CT. who can’t bare to watch suguru try help you. ever since he found you training with suguru, he finds himself annoyed at the very thought of someone else touching you. his fists clenching as he sees suguru swiftly save you from falling, a dashing smile on his face.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who subtly tries to show you his feelings through heartfelt gifts. an expensive bouquet of pink roses ( your favourite, though you never told him, he found out through shoko but insisted he just guessed correctly to further impress you ) or even small treats after a mission.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who loves seeing you happy after beating him in a game at the arcade you and your friends usually go to after school ( even though your horrible bad at the game, he doesn’t ever want to see you sad over losing )
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who only ever realises he likes you when Yaga brings it up. his teacher commenting that he bets you’ve taken up satoru’s mind from the amount of times he’s caught him staring at you.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who rushes out the class at his newfound discovery, his heart beating aggressively against the cage of bones in his chest.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who promises to tell you the next day. planning a great confession. he has what he says noted down on pen and paper, perfecting it so he won’t mess up ( but he has a slight inking he will. you’ve only ever been the one person to make satoru stumble over his words and forget them mid sentence )
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who stays up that night. unable to find respite in sleep, he stares at the ceiling mulling over thoughts of what may happen tomorrow after he does what he plans.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who prays that you feel the same for him all throughout the night and through the morning classes. so much so that suguru is cackling in laughter after satoru tells him what he’s been doing for the last few hours.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who waits for you after your mission at the steps to the school his feet aimlessly kicking at stray rocks on the ground, his white hair flying in the breeze.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who finally lets out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding in when he sees you emerge from the many steps, your feet light on the ground so much so that if anyone were not blessed with the six eyes like him, they wouldn’t have even heard you.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who is silent for s long time, studying the face he’s come to adore and love so much. you stare up at him, confused and waiting, a stray hair lies on your cheek and he thinks he’s never seen you more beautiful looking than now.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who blurts out his feelings in one go, blushing red by the end of it, his eyes burning behind his black sunglasses.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who waits for what you say, only to be taken aback when he finds you laughing at him. endless amount of giggles escaping your pretty lips, hes beyond confused ( he didn’t expect you to start laughing )
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who turns away, slightly saddened that you didn’t return his feelings before you pull him into you, leaning up to kiss him lightly on the lips. your soft lips slightly grazing his cheek as you pulls away, he sees the blush rising from your neck to your face.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who is shocked when you admit to liking him back before you run away, further into the school and to the dorms he presumes.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who’s feet are stuck to ground. he is in shock, he thinks. beyond bewildered and oh so so ecstatic.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who’s fingers lightly graze his keeps, wishing he could stand in this moment forever. to forever ingrain the feeling of the almost bursting of his heart and the rush through his veins.
LOVESICK SATORU GOJO! who finally realises how lovesick he is for you.
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© VAAMINS 24  .ᐟ  do not copy, repost or plagiarise my works.
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jamesgalgano · 1 year
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BEYOND ENDLESS NIGHT (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1340800217-beyond-endless-night?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=semajrah&wp_originator=YAeQLEvyNLLgR%2F4Ovbpzrtuaogl%2F5FPKgvLTIx5VCUc205CB7zFQYLUQ9HOU%2BJkY6r5qB43fOO8Rz8g7F5F%2FdSXx5SYQ3PC0hlTICElEShUF%2FptQZ6r%2Bh%2Fp9LLDNW4vl Beyond endless night By james a. galgano Who would whenever scream and shout beyond all undeniable doubt? Where endlessly these anxious lips long to quiver and taste divine Once upon some distant shore your love is forever mine insecure. How can this be my desire and devotion surrender to you mine? There once upon a time so distant from here where I long you to be. If not now, then one day soon for all eternity where my devotion describes My heart my love my desire eternally between your spread legs Where I forever long to be if not now for all eternity upon distant light Here is where my love desire and devotion clings to you beyond endless night.
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shiny-jr · 2 months
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I’ve just had a vision, what if a yan (e.g riddle or vil because they are most princess-ish) was a trapped in a castle away like in one of those stereotypical fairy tales and the reader decides to save them because they are a ‘damsel in distress’ and reader is like a hero… only to realise there is a reason why they were locked away (because they were batshit crazy)
Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.
Characters: Vil Schoenheit.
Summary: You are a thief with freshly stolen goods. Chased and hunted down, you avoid capture by finding a castle hidden in gloom and fog. Locals told legends of this place, saying a royal had been trapped within. Of course, you don't quite believe such tall tales. That is, until you discover the royal and learned that they were purposefully sealed inside...
Note: I think I'll call this one, not your valiant savior. It's just a placeholder name for now. Just a quick post, so sorry if it's bad.
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It was too easy. What did they expect when they left out a priceless object owned by the royal family and estimated to be worth a fortune? Of course a famed thief on the loose such as yourself, would just be itching to snatch the relic. And snatch you did, living up to your reputation of thief. Each member having unique abilities to assist in stealing. Your mother had speed to outrun anyone in a chase, your grandfather had the talent of picking any locks, your great-grandmother could sweet-talk anyone then rob them blind. And so on and so forth.
And of course, you had your own talent. As quiet as a mouse and with fingers that stuck to valuables like glue, stealing became like second nature. Literally. However, it wasn't exactly a talent valued by the wider community, and if you stole enough you could end up on terribly drawn wanted posters. Which is why staying in one place wasn't wise.
From place to place, you went taking and claiming anything of worth. When you got very low on cash, you set your sights high: on the vault that stored the royal's priceless treasures. There was bound to be endless riches stored within, if only you could get your grubby hands on them. Well, after careful planning, you had. It wasn't a giant gem or sack full of gold.
Time was short, so you had grabbed the closest thing you could before guards could find you. A golden box encrusted with jewels. Who knew what was inside? Maybe some family heirloom, a magical artifact, or something else of high value. And with the box, you bolted, and the chase had begun out of the city and through the woods.
As fast as you could, you ran through the mystic woods, a forrest travelers and locals alike were all wary of. It was the safest place you could go when chased by frightening palace guards on horseback that would do anything to take back what you stole and drag you back to the gallows. Even the woods heavy with fog and dark from the clouds overhead, had deterred your pursuers enough for you to slip out of their reach and deeper into the forrest where there was no way they would be able to track you. Here, you would have to wait until tomorrow and depart early. Then, you'd be home free and rich beyond your wildest dreams.
After what felt like hours of walking, you stumbled upon a bridge over a gloomy lake. In the middle, sat an old castle of gray stone and dark windows. A castle once said to hold a royal captive, but of course, you didn't believe such stories that were so old they were told to your own grandparents. This castle would be your sanctuary for the night. And maybe, just maybe, you'd clutch the jeweled box and dream of simpler times when you were told fairytales of locked away royals waiting for a savior.
The castle was exactly like those set in spooky tales, haunted by vengeful spirits and claimed by ghosts. It appeared abandoned, that much was obvious by the crumbling stone bridge and the battered old wooden doors that once protected the inhabitants.
Cautiously stepping over the splintered debris of the front door, you didn’t bother boarding it up since no one would be stupid enough to follow you inside.
There was wreckage and ruin everywhere. If you had to guess, whatever happened here, whether the people were driven away by conflict or time, it was followed by the destruction of time. Time with weather were likely all factors that led to the disarray of what was probably once a grand estate. Strangely enough, there was furniture and decor. Everything coated in dust and grime, but still here. Had people been too afraid to enter the grounds? There were so many valuables that could've been looted!
"I'll definitely have to come back here later." You scoff, turning over a few clothes or broken furniture with your foot to uncover possible hidden goodies. Maybe something as small but valuable as a ring was lost somewhere on the ground.
Proceeding to carry the golden box under your arm, you decide to search for the cleaniest, not-so-moldy room where you could spend the night. On the third floor halls, you see ripped curtains and frames where portraits loosely hung. Every rug was brown with dirt and dust.
There were items left behind, which showcased the life one led here. A piano too big to steal, the skeleton of a chandelier and broken gems hanging from its limbs, empty glass perfume bottles now filled with dust. The place must've been wondrous once, but now it was like a tomb. A setting frozen in time.
When you found moonlight filtering through the open balcony of what looked to be the master bedroom, you paused to see the space wrecked more than the others. As if more than just weather and time had affected this place. The owner of this castle likely slept in this very room, on that very bed where the sheets were ruffled and unkempt.
"I wonder who used to live here..." You murmur to no one in particular, as you approach the balcony looking over the bridge and woods. This would be a good vantage point.
A heavy fog settled over the woods, extending over the bridge like water. Good, an extra layer for cover. You stepped back into the room, analyzing every carved piece of wooden furniture, makeup and brushes stored on tabletops, a separate room as long as a hallway and filled with all types of articles of clothing.
If all this was still here, then was it possible some jewelry was left behind? You scoured the room, looking for hidden compartments while murmuring to yourself to fill the ominous silence. As you pulled back a curtain against a wall, you furrowed your eyebrows when you saw an uneven lump underneath the wallpaper.
Could this be handle leading to a vault of treasures? With that in mind, you ripped off the old wallpaper. A glimmer of gold made your heart soar with hope, but when you caught sight of your reflection, you stopped and stared. A mirror. It was a large mirror, oval shaped, with golden borders so intricately decorated. However, when a hand suddenly appeared on the other side of the mirror, like a ghostly apparition, you screamed and stumbled back.
A hand– there was a hand in the mirror! You stared with widened eyes full of shock, as the hand pressed its palm against the surface of the glass. You couldn't see anything else, no one behind the hand. After a second, the slim pale hand delicately pointed a long dainty finger at the box you were holding in a vice grip.
"What...? This? You want this? But..."
You had worked hard to procure this golden box from the royals. Pursing your lips, you contemplated your options, with so many questions running rampant in your mind. What was that thing? A magic mirror? A magic mirror would be priceless, much more valuable than any gold. However, if it was magic, it would be tricky. Possibly even sentient. So you'd have to gain its favor.
"Alright, alright, the box. You know, I went through hell trying to get this."
You informed the mirror, unsure if it even understood you. You carefully set down the heavy box in front of the mirror, and watch as the hand made a motion with its fingers.
Click!
It had unlocked the box, without even a key or tool. A grin broke out on your face. Had it done it for you? Apparently not, because the box opened on its own and a heavy thick tome floated out from it and into the air. The hand beckoned the tome closer, and closer it came, until it was literally phasing through the glass.
"Hey! Wait––"
The glass shattered, the sound booming and ringing out in the silence like an explosion. You only had a second to react, instinctually using your arms to shield your face from the glass flying out in every direction. When it stopped, you looked around. The mattress was shredded, the curtains torn to shreds, wooden furniture cut as if done by an axe, but miraculously you were somehow unharmed.
A breath, not of your own, caught your attention. Your eyes darted over to the now broken mirror, awestruck at the vision of a figure stepping over broken glass. They were beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, more than any words could convey. Their hair like gold and eyes an alluring shade of purple like two amethyst stones, soft pink lips, and a tall slim pale figure clothed in odd robes. For a moment, whoever this person was, appeared disoriented for a brief moment, but they clutched the tome like a lifeline. The tome that came from the box you had stolen.
"Thank you––"
He breathed, his voice quiet as he attempted to stand tall and upright. When his legs nearly gave out beneath him, you were there to catch his hand and prevent him from falling as he looked at you with appreciation. You were just stunned, bewildered, in pure disbelief.
"You... You freed me. You returned my stolen tome...!"
He exclaimed in disbelief, as he restored his posture. Somehow, he was able to stand in heels, but heels were currently one of the least important details.
What did he mean freed?
There was no time to ask any questions. The loud sound of the shattering must've alerted any of your pursuers that had followed you thus far, because from the balcony you could make out the torchlights weaving their way directly towards the bridge.
The mysterious man from the mirror took notice of your expression of dismay as he glanced at the distant torchlights. Smoothing out his robes, he looked back at you and took in your expression. "Enemies of yours?"
"Yes..." You nod slowly.
"Now that just won't do. I can't have anyone harming, or even killing my savior. I've yet to even learn your name." Tapping some well-manicured fingers against the spine of the tome, he appeared to contemplate something. When he stopped tapping his fingers, he smiled so sweetly. "I am Vil Schoenheit, prince and prodigy. Here's my proposition to you, my savior: I will destroy your enemies for a small price. You must tell me your name, and I will grant you my protection."
Of course you gave him your name, and almost immediately you saw the fog below turn an odd color. The torchlights flickered out, you no longer heard their encouraged shouts to move forward but instead their screams echoing in the dark woods. All after Vil murmured a few words in a foreign tongue read from his tome, as he continued to gaze at your intently. What exactly was he to cause so much death in a single instant with hardly any effort...? And you were stuck in this abandoned castle with him.
The prince had no plans to abandon you, he's made that much clear when you attempted to casually part ways after thanking him for getting rid of your pursuers. Stay. I can make it worth your while. Once I reach my former glory, you'll be able to bask in it with me. Is what he said as you swore you heard the front of the castle be sealed shut.
The entire time he looked around the castle with disdain, cross as he complained about the state of his home. While helping him clean up some rooms, he told you more about himself. Vil was a prince who once lived in this castle, set to inherent the throne shortly after the death of his father. However, he was widely feared due to being a prodigy in dark magics and genius at brewing concoctions. For attempting to steal the life of a younger kinder foreign prince who specialized in good magic, he was trapped in a mirror with his tome being the only key to grant him freedom.
Vil actually appeared to be much too fond of you, which you attributed to his isolation. If you were imprisoned all alone in a mirror for centuries, you likely would've gone insane. It was a miracle Vil's mind was intact, but maybe he wasn't there entirely. Because what sane person killed people with the snap of their fingers while smiling so kindly at the one who set him free?
Pridefully he listed off his feats and accomplishments. Living prodigy. Most beautiful man in the land. Prince of the land. It felt too much like flaunting, as he wanted you to realize how truly great he was. He replaced your clothes with his own, and while combing your hair he reminded you that what's rightfully his will be returned to him one day, and you would be there beside him that day.
The crown was what he wanted, a crown he believed was stolen from him and passed down to the descendants of the very good prince he attempted to kill. He spoke of a future in the castle restored to its former glory, where citizens would be loyal to him once again, and those that wronged him will receive a fate worse than death. Positions were open for applying once he became king, he told you one day. He was still searching for a vassal, a knight, a jester, or a partner to wear a crown as well.
Was it the isolation that had driven him to become so attached to the one who set him free? It was possible, but you couldn't even be sure. For all you knew, he could've been like this before he became trapped in the mirror. What mattered now was that he did not make any effort to hide his attraction towards you. Vil was offering a thief all the riches he would attain after his plan for vengeance, and his heart in a golden box.
"Keep the knives I gifted you, although I doubt you'll have to resort to lifting a finger. Just allow me to handle it when the time comes. I want to extract vengeance slowly and painfully, make them hurt just as they did to me... And at the end of the day, you will be there, you little thief who stole my affections, to comfort me and drive away those memories of cold lonely centuries in darkness. You'll be there for me, won't you, my valiant savior?"
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yandere-romanticaa · 2 months
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⚘ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.
m. - "forevermore" typically refers to something that lasts for an indefinite amount of time or for eternity. it implies a sense of permanence or lastingness.
You've ran away from your husband, the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia himself. However, have you truly escaped his grasp?
yandere! tartaglia x fem! reader.
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The shimmering rays of bright morning sunlight made the living room come to life as you sat in a classic wooden chair, a steaming cup of tea in your hand. It burned your fingers ever so slightly but you could not be bothered to remove them from the cup.
The pain made you not focus on the massive bouquet of flowers which were placed on your pretty white table.
From the corner of your vision, you could see the card which clung onto the fresh bunch of blooms, the handwriting on it disgustingly elaborate but oh so familiar.
"Blood red roses." The card said.
"I always knew that you fancied roses, and I couldn't resist to get you these specific ones when I saw you looking at them."
Bastard. How he had managed to track you all the way to Mondstatd was beyond your comprehension, but in hindsight, you really should have known better. The Fatui could sneak in anywhere they damn well pleased, be it the hustle and bustle of the city of Mondstatd, to the dirty cracks of the Chasm.
It was only natural that the many agents which were stationed in the city would start to talk upon seeing the wife of a Lord Harbinger so far from home.
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You concealed yourself at first, obviously. Most unfortunately, word started to spread like wildfire that you had fled in the dead of night, never to be seen by anyone. And, due to the fact that your husband did not possess a single shred of decency in his body, he proudly showed you off wherever he could.
Just the mere thought of the memory made you shudder.
Your good husband was - is - a wealthy man. He made sure to spoil you in the finest of silks known to man and the endless sea of jewelry which was sent your way, if it were to be sold, could feed an entire army.
Although, he was always particular about your arms. He didn't like seeing anything on them except for the, surprisingly, simple wedding ring he got you.
It was a promise, he had told you.
His eternal promise to you, until the end of time. He would love you, in sickness and in health, there was no force in the universe that could separate him from you.
In a way, he was keeping his promise. He made the trip from the homeland straight to the City of Freedom all on his own.
... He probably didn't even need to hear the reports from anyone of your whereabouts. Knowing him, he tracked you down all on his own, using nothing but his wit and sharp senses.
He was a terrifying man. A man you ought to stay away from, a man who had the blood of countless innocent people on his hand. And yet, those same hands would keep you warm during the cold winter, his soft and pale lips would pepper your body with gentle kisses, making you feel as if you were the most beautiful woman in the universe.
Archons, he'd whisper to himself, his breath hot on your neck, making you blush. He would just say whatever came to mind, completely lost in his blind passion.
I want no one else but you - You are my everything - I will make you mine -
Frankly, you did not know how to feel. In those private moments he was less a man and more a lovesick little fool. He could not keep his paws off you, even if he wanted to. As the evening would go on the kisses would evolve into something more, something primal, carnal even. Tongue and teeth would mesh together, leaving a thick string of saliva between him and you, to which he would always let out that darling boyish laugh of his.
You loathed the fact that in those moments, he truly was ethereal, no different than a star.
What made your skin crawl was the effect his touch had on your mind and body. He became something akin to a drug, even now as you felt the sweetness of freedom with your own two hands you still felt the urge to hold something tight at night because your husband had spoiled you rotten with his presence.
Finally, you turned to look at the flowers as the horrible realization dawned on you - you loved him. You loved that man and it was putrid.
You cannot go back. You would not go back to him.
Jumping off a building would be a smarter thing to do.
As you pondered on and on about your predicament, you failed to notice the lingering shadow in your hallway. Deep blue eyes monitored you like a hawk as he toyed with a switchblade he had in his pocket. What should he do with you? He was furious, naturally. You were the last person in the world he wanted discord with. You broke his heart a little when you left and the fact that you didn't even care about his feelings only added insult to injury.
Even so, he could not help but to feel overjoyed by the fact that you hadn't thrown out his gift. He was half expecting you to burn whatever he sent you to the ground, not to mournfully contemplate in deep thought like this.
That was how he knew you loved him. It was crooked and wrong, but he had you. He had you and you didn't even know it. He'd bring down the heavens themselves if it meant that you could feel a fraction of the love he held for you. His lips curled into a sly grin but his heart pounded like clockwork in his chest. This waiting game was so horrible.
But the hunter in him couldn't resist, cornering you like this was just in his nature.
Victory was so close, he could practically taste it. Soon enough, his wife would be in his arms, weeping and apologizing and he would soothe her, like a good husband ought to. Yes, that was how this scenario would play out.
He was too clever to let it happen any other way.
It would be just him and you, perhaps even with a bundle of joy if the Tsaritsa blessed him. Even so, with you here, he had everything he could ever dream of.
Him and you, against the world, standing by each other's side, forevermore.
💋 TAGLIST: @genshinarchives, @saturnalya @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @alatusprinz @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @lakxcpsta @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149
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This fic was born out of my own pure passion and love for Tartaglia, apologies for the Cringe™ I put you all through.
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
Text
Title: Monster Mania.
Pairing: Yandere!Vampire!Neuvillette x Reader x Yandere!Werewolf!Wriothesley (Genshin).
Word Count: 3.0k.
TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Oral Sex, Mentions of Blood, Non-Human Anatomy, Possessive Behavior, Prolonged Imprprisoment, and Slight Dehumanization.
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“Pouting won’t get you out of this.”
“I’m not—” You paused, gritting your teeth as his shoulder pressed uncomfortably into your stomach. In retribution, you did your best to drive your knee into his chest, to let him know he was hurting you without admitting that you were even more fragile than he’d assumed, but if he cared about your attempts at resistance, if he so much as noticed that you’d moved at all, Wriothesley didn’t waver. “I’m not pouting, I’m trying to get away from my fucking stalker and his—” Another fit of thrashing. This time, Wriothesley was kind enough to tighten his hold on your legs. “—fucking dog. Why is that so hard for you two to get that through your heads?”
He hummed, drumming his fingers against your thigh. “Might be how often call us… what was it, again? A stalker and a dog?”
You scowled, crossing your arms. From your current position, slung over his shoulder, the remnants of one of his rope snares still wrapped around your left ankle, you could only see the thin footpath he was following and the dense forest that laid beyond it. The tree canopy was too thick to let you see the sky (something you mourned and Neuvillette adored, considering his fondness for early evening walks), but rays of golden sunlight still managed to pierce the endless sprawl of branches and leaves, marking the first signs of dusk. Neuvillette had still been asleep when you slipped through the door Wriothesley had forgotten to lock when he left for his daily hunting trip, but he’d be waking up soon; you could already imagine him rising from his canopied bed, picture the diluted shock he’d wear as he stepped into your bedroom for his first meal of the night only to find it empty. You weren’t surprised Wriothesley was so eager to get you home. Neuvillette was stoic at the worst of times, but the thought of letting his pet blood-bag get away was one of the few things that could get a reaction out of him.
Not that Wriothesley was much better. He was more level-headed, sure, more likely to let you wear something aside from ivory nightgowns and untangle you from Neuvillette’s arms when his hunger left him in a blood-thirsty daze, but that never stopped him from taking Neuvillette’s side when you found yourself in another petty argument, from standing in the doorway with a smile and a dreamy look in his eyes as Neuvillette fastened a lace collar around your neck, a collar just a touch too small to cover the twin puncture marks at the base of your throat and just a touch too similar to the steel choker that sat at the base of Wriothesley’s throat more often than not. He might’ve been human, something as mortal and as delicate as you were, but he was still a monster. He’d be crushed under Neuvillette’s heel a thousand times before he ever considered showing you mercy.
The shadow of their mansion was coming into view, now – the lonely building just as dark and just as intimidating as it’d been the first time Wriothesley lured inside. It stretched on as far as the eye could see in either direction and towered above you like some awful, looming thing; thick curtains constantly drawn over its many windows and every surface of its exterior constantly covered in a thick layer of creeping ivy. The rotting boards of the front porch groaned under his weight as he approached the front door, and you braced yourself as he cursed under his breath, patting down the pockets of his heavy flannel. You weren’t sure why they bothered keeping the door locked at all – aside from what it took to keep you trapped inside, at least. Neuvillette was the most dangerous thing for the next hundred miles, and Wriothesley was a close second.
The inside of the mansion was just as ominous; any light from the outside world captured and suffocated before it could penetrate Neuvillette’s endless abyss. You squirmed, hoping Wriothesley would at least let you cross the threshold on your own, but he wasn’t so kind, only responding to your silent plea with a playful squeeze to your calf as he made his way past the entryway and down an unlit hall, passing several torn paintings and overturned tables before finally shrugging open the door to Neuvillette’s study. A bottle of red wine sat open and half-drained on his mahogany desk, a small fire smoldering in the stone hearth he only rarely used. Neuvillette sat beside it, dressed in a simple black robe, his eyes blearily focused on the low-burning flames. He looked concerned, but his apprehension faded as Wriothesley carried you into his line of sigh, disappearing completely as you were hauled off of Wriothesley’s shoulder and dropped into Neuvillette’s lap. One of his hands found its way to your waist, its twin cupping your cheek, tilting your head back and allowing him to press a lingering kiss into the top of your head. “Beloved,” he muttered, practically breathing out his pet name for you before turning to Wriothesley. “Thank you, duke. I’m sorry you’ve had to inconvenience yourself for the sake of what should be my responsibility again.”
With a groan, Wriothesley fell onto the foot of the fireplace, shrugging off his coat. Where Neuvillette chose to hide his bloodlust behind a thick veil of unwavering niceties and delicate elegance, Wriothesley leaned into his brutality; broad muscle straining at the confines of his black undershirt, scruff cropping up faster than he could clear it away, his hair an untamable mess of black and grey and his clothes caked in an ever constant layer of mud and wear (save for his metal choker, of course, which was always polished to conspicuous shine). His eyes lit up when he heard Neuvillette ask after him, posture straightening like that of a soldier called to attention. You’d been too generous when you called him a dog. He was a mutt, too mindlessly obedient to ever question his master’s orders. “How many centuries has it been since you’ve had a reason to call me that?”
“It should be four this year.” Another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. You could feel the points of his fangs, still tucked behind his lips but no less dangerous for their momentary concealment. “Don’t you have something to say to him, as well?”
It took a moment to register he was talking to you, another to recognize the hypocrisy of what he was asking you. Your pressed frown fell into an open-mouthed balk. “Absolutely not.” And then, when Neuvillette held strong, “You can’t expect me to thank him for keeping me trapped here—”
“Silence.” He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t bear his fangs or dig his pointed nails into your thigh – he didn’t have to. All it took was that tone. Assertive, but not quite forceful. Lulling, but no softer than the wood and stone of his hellish mansion. Immediately, you shut your mouth. Neuvillette closed his eyes, letting out a raspy sigh before taking you by the hips and turning you in his lap, so that you faced outward rather than into his chest. That was enough to earn Wriothesley’s full attention, perking up as you were perched on the edge of Neuvillette’s lap. “Why don’t we try that again. Do you have anything to say to Wriothesley?”
You glared pointedly at the floor. “Thank you. For bringing me back?”
“And?”
“And...” This was the part you hated the most. If there’d been an alternative – a dungeon they could’ve thrown you into, a brand they could sear into your skin – you would’ve embraced it with open arms. But, that was the worst part about dealing with an captor. He had all the time in the world to make you bask in your own humiliation, and he never seemed to tire of the pasttime. “And, thank you for making sure I didn’t get hurt in the forest.”
As if there was anything out there that could’ve hurt you more than they did. Still, it seemed to appease Neuvillette, who let out an approving hum as he turned to Wriothesley. “What do you think? Be honest, this time. No lesson was ever taught with a gentle hand.”
He took a long moment to look over you, another to wet his lips. Wordlessly, dependent on the pure desperation in your eyes, you begged him not to listen to Neuvillette, to take your side just this once, but your improvised attempts at telepathic communication proved unsuccessful. “It could’ve been more genuine,” he admitted, with a slight shrug. “Didn’t have much nice to say on the way back, either.”
“Is that so?” His fingertips drummed against your side. “Why don’t you join us?”
Wriothesley didn’t hesitate, practically stumbling over himself as he crawled to Neuvillette’s feet. He came to rest on his knees, hand braced against the rug between his thighs and his cheek only a hair’s width from Neuvillette’s leg, as if waiting for permission to press against him. He always looked at his most relaxed there, on the floor, patiently waiting for an order from his master. It was hard to tell whether it was a skill learned through time, or if subservience was just in his nature.
His obedience was rewarded with a breathy chuckle, a hand run through his unruly hair. Wriothesley was more lax with himself than he usually was, letting his eyes fall shut as he melted into Neuvillette’s touch. “Since your tongue is so uncooperative today,” Neuvillette started, leaning forward just far enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “How do you think you can show our dear helper how grateful you are?”
A bolt of cold dread shot down your spine. You moved to stand, to get away, but Neuvillette’s arm wrapped tight around your midriff, keeping you pinned against him despite your resistance. “Neuvi’,” you mumbled, squirming against him. “Please, Neuvi’, I don’t want to—”
“Now you’re going to play nice?” His hand fell to your knee, drawing your legs apart. Wriothesley filled the space before you could clench them shut again, his mouth immediately latching onto the inside of your thigh, his dull teeth burying themselves in the plush of your exposed skin. You cursed under your breath, trying to shake him off, but he held tight, fists curling around your ankles to keep you spread and exposed as Neuvillette watched on, his grin pressing into the crook of your throat. “That’s a little cruel, beloved. Can’t you see how excited he is?”
You could. There was a glassy sheen over his half-lidded eyes, a hunch to his posture that meant he was too distracted with you to care about how he held himself. You’d slipped out in a rush, eager to get as far as you could before Neuvillette woke up. In your haste, you hadn’t bothered to change out of the simple, silken frock you were wearing; a choice you only came to regret as Neuvillette dragged the tattered hem to your waist, as Wriothesley’s attention drifted from your thighs to your panties, the lacey fabric torn away with little more than a curl of his fingers and a throaty growl. That, more than anything, caught you off-guard. It wasn’t a threat, but it was more hostile than anything he’d ever directed towards you before. It wasn’t a sound someone like him, someone like you, should’ve been capable of making.
Neuvillette must’ve felt the way you stiffened against him. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the curve of your throat, just a touch too close to the vein he preferred to drink from, then another into the dip of your shoulder. “Surely, you must’ve noticed how scarce Wriothesley makes himself around this time of the month.” He paused, laughing airily. “He’d already be safely locked away in the cellar, if you hadn’t made him run out and fetch you. I suppose it must’ve slipped his mind while he was looking for you.”
“I don’t—” A tongue, broader than it should’ve been, hotter than it should’ve been, ran over your slit. “But, he’s supposed to be—”
“Human?” You refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge what he was doing to you, but you could feel his teeth ghosting over your skin, their usually dull tips beginning to sharpen into something more pointed, more animalistic. His tongue slipped into your entrance, thick enough to stretch you open with little more than its curling tip, and Neuvillette’s focus fell to your clit, left neglected by Wriothesley’s unwavering concentration on lapping up as much of your (humiliatingly, quickly accumulating) slick as he could. His thumb toyed with the sensitive bundle of nerves as he went on. “He is rather young, as far as immortal beings are concerned. He made an adorable puppy, back when creatures of the night were free to roam as they pleased, but he’s matured since his days of village razing and cattle slaughtering. I think you’ll find he’s learned how to keep his fangs to himself.” Wriothesley nipped gently at the junction of your thigh. You winced and Neuvillette added, “More or less.”
You could only bring yourself to half-listen to what he was saying. Wriothesley was growing more wild by the second, his formerly languid movements now hasty and agitated, little groans and growls joining the wet, disgusting sounds quickly filling the study. You felt claws that hadn’t been there a moment ago dig into your ankles, his already impressive build taking on bulk that would’ve been possible for anything natural, anything human. It wasn’t enough to just look away, anymore – you shut your eyes completely, bowing your head and curling into yourself as Wriothesley ate you out like a man— no, not a man, a beast starved. The cool marble of Neuvillette’s chest was almost a comfort when compared to the raw heat of Wriothesley’s mouth. It might’ve been more soothing, had he not been taking so much joy in your suffering.
“He’s always been prone to getting carried away. I used to have to fetch him at dawn – he could never seem to make it home before the moon set and he was left bare and unconscious in the vineyard of some poor nobleman.” He pulled back, letting Wriothesley’s cold nose grind against your clit in his place. You weren’t free from his touch for very long, though. The array of ribbons that kept the bodice of your frock drawn tight were undone, the neckline loosened and allowed to fall to your shoulders. “I’ve always preferred a more direct approach. The occasional drunkard taken off the street and drained was always enough to keep me sated.” He paused, cupped the curves of your chest. “Until I came across you, of course.”
You felt his fangs scrape over your neck, but he didn’t have time to bite down before you lurched forward, the sporadic movements of Wriothesley’s tongue bringing you to a sudden, unsteady climax. It was abrupt enough, violent enough to make tears swell in the corners of your eyes, to steal a ragged gasp from your lungs despite your attempts to swallow back any pathetic sound your weak-willed body might’ve wanted to make. For the first time, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, letting your gaze fall onto the black-furred, oversized thing between your legs. He was unrecognizable, black fur and a wolf-like muzzle swallowing any familiar trait you might’ve latched onto. Pointed ears laid flat against his scalp, a grey-tipped tail brushed over the floor lazily behind him as he moved to keep going, to milk every last drop out of you, but Neuvillette reached down and took him by the metal collar now pressing flush against his throat. There was a low, drawn-out whine as he was dragged up and away from your pussy, but Neuvillette’s cruelty was limited to you.
“We spent hours talking about what to do with you, when he first brought you home.” He spoke absent-mindedly, muttering against your throat as he guided Wriothesley onto his knees. Even at only a fraction of his full height, he was tall enough to loom over you, to replace your limited world with a towering shadow of black fur and white teeth. He was panting, his chin glistening with slick and drool, what was left of his tattered clothes torn away in a few aggerated swipes of his claws. You’d been wrong, again – not every part of him was unfamiliar. His eyes were still there, the grey clouded and his pupils blown out but still undeniably his. Still fixed entirely on you.
“I thought he should turn you as soon as possible, but he protested, claimed the transformation would be too much for you.” He bowed his head, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Between you and I, there might be a chance he’s hoping I’ll give in first. He does his best to hide it, but he tends to sulk whenever I choose to feed from you. I think he’s hoping we might both have to rely on him.”
Clawed hands curled around the arms of his chair, the wood creaking under Wriothesley’s weight. For the first time, you let your eyes drift lower, let yourself take in the massive, pulsing cock standing erect against his lower stomach. It looked too big; like a prop, made to only vaguely resemble the real thing. It looked like it could tear you in half.
“Then again, he might’ve grown fond of the idea of adding another wolf to his pack,” Neuvillette added, as you went limp against him. “We’ll have to see how human you feel when the sun rises.”
It was an awkward position, Wriothesley too tall and Neuvillette too unyielding. He kept one arm wrapped tightly around your midriff as his other hand drifted into the limited space between your body and Wriothesley’s, his pale hand curling around Wriothesley’s thick shaft and carefully lining it up with your dripping cunt. Wriothesley bucked into the stimulation, his body lurching forward and his head nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. You felt his breath, warm and humid, fan over your chest, then the rough reverberation of his voice against your skin. “Mate.” It was more of a groan than anything, one long breath that seemed to escape from some unseen vault. It was his voice, but there was something underneath it, too – something more guttural than you would ever want on top of you. “Mine.”
“Ours,” Neuvillette corrected, tightening his hold and drawing you close. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel it, pressing against your throat as his fangs reclaimed lost territory. “Our precious, misguided little pet.”
Wriothesley thrust into you as Neuvillette drove his teeth into your skin, both men piercing you simultaneously. Too stunned to scream, you could only silently wonder who would end you first.
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Se filtra otra supuesta lista del nuevo album de Miley Cyrus, Endless Summer Vacation:
Welcome (Beyond the Palm Trees)
Blossom (feat. Harry Styles)
Flowers
Taste of my Own
Gossip (feat. Selena Gomez)
Endless Summer Vacation
Best Night
Body Cheater (feat. Rae Sremmurd)
Venus
What It Seems (feat. Kylie Minogue)
You
Skydive and Freefall
¿Crees que tenga una versión de lujo?
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bookgeekgrrl · 3 months
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My media this week (10-16 Mar 2024)
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📚 STUFF I READ 📚
🥰 Art Thief, Heart Thief (odetteandodile) - 58K, stucky white collar inspired AU - enjoyed how author took the WC set up (fbi art agent, criminal consultant) and made it theirs & perfect for stucky
💖💖 +195K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖
Midlife Crisis (profoundalpacakitten) - MCU: stucky, 7K - reread, forever fave - the quiet, piercing, understated tenderness in this fic is unmatched
Progredi (justanotherStonyfan) - MCU: shrunkyclunks, 37K - the next installment in the fabulous Honey Honey series
Pistachios and Rose Water (goldsaffron) - The Old Guard: kaysanova, 15K - J&N spend 10 years putting down roots, building a home & collecting a found family as Nicky learns to express his love through food
Consensual Catfishing (foresthearts) - Stranger Things: steddie, 32K - modern AU, told via social media - delightful story! adored these characters & their voices and using all different sorts of SM to tell it. brilliant idea, adeptly executed. the art is also pretty great
they're going to send us to prison for jerks (greatunironic) - Stranger Things: steddie, 16K - another really fun modern steddie with a strong social media AU premise
Os Impurum (the_deep_magic) - The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth: Marcus Flavius Aquila/Esca Mac CunovalMarcus/Esca, 18K - solidly good fic about marcus/esca post canon, esp marcus discovering some new things about himself 😉
📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺
Ghosts (US) - s3, e5
Game Changer - s6, e3
D20: The Unsleeping City: Chapter II - "For the Hoard!" (s7, e15)
D20: The Unsleeping City: Chapter II - "Treachery at Gramercy" (s7, e16)
D20: The Unsleeping City: Chapter II - "Two Sides of the Same Coin (Part 1)" (s7, e17)
D20: The Unsleeping City: Chapter II - "Two Sides of the Same Coin (Part 2)" (s7, e18)
D20: Adventuring Party - s3, e12-16
Um, Actually - s9, e2
D20: Fantasy High: Junior Year - "Cursed Out" (s21, e10)
D20: Adventuring Party - "Cool Ranch Communion" (s16, e10)
D20: Tiny Heist - "Big Little Crimes" (s4, e1)
D20: Tiny Heist - "Chicanery at Shoeby's Casino" (s4, e2)
D20: Tiny Heist - "Scheming and Scoring Fairy Dust" (s4, e3)
Agatha Christie's Marple - "The Secret of Chimneys" (s5, e2) [shout out to @leupagus for this rec; they were not wrong about the acting choices made here 🤩]
🎧 PODCASTS 🎧
Worlds Beyond Number: Fireside - Fireside Chat for WWW ep001 The Open Door
What Next: TBD - Instagram’s Pedophile Problem
Desert Island Discs - Cillian Murphy, actor
WikiHole - Lenny Kravitz (with Paul F. Tompkins, Drew Tarver, and Heléne Yorke)
This Cultural Life - Andrew Scott
Pop Culture Happy Hour - Our 2024 Oscars Recap
The Atlas Obscura Podcast - The Grave of XYZ
Vibe Check - Hey, Sis: featuring Morgan Parker
WikiHole with D'Arcy Carden - Fear of Dolphins (with Kumail Nanjiani, Emily Gordon, and Jonah Ray)
The Allusionist - 190. Craters
WikiHole with D'Arcy Carden - Tetris (with Adam Pally, Jon Gabrus and Blair Socci)
The Atlas Obscura Podcast - The Lighthouse Keeper
⭐ Vibe Check - A Special Conversation with Afeef Nessouli
Short Wave - What We Know About Long COVID, From Brain Fog to Fatigue
⭐ Decoder Ring - Why Stylists Rule the Red Carpet
⭐ 99% Invisible #573 - Toyetic
You Are Good - My Best Friend's Wedding w. Sam Sanders
If Books Could Kill - Lean In
The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Law of the Tongue
Imaginary Worlds - The Nine Lives of Red Dwarf
Today, Explained - Lip gloss, gum, and the Pill
Dear Prudence - My Ex Had Sex With My Brother. Help!
What Next: TBD - Is TikTok Cooked This Time?
Short Wave - Are We On The Brink Of A Nuclear Fusion Breakthrough?
Pop Culture Happy Hour - Love Lies Bleeding And What's Making Us Happy
Endless Thread - The Music Man, Part 1
Welcome to Night Vale #244 - A Multiplicity of Kevin
Today, Explained - Hollywood’s still not back
99% Invisible - The Power Broker #03: David Sims
Off Menu - Ep 233: Frankie Boyle (Live in Glasgow)
⭐ Hit Parade - Gotcha Covered Edition
🎶 MUSIC 🎶
The Donnas
Smooth Rockabilly
Respect: '60s Iconic Women
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sukunasweetheart · 4 months
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fem!reader, heaps of cum, somnophilia, handjob, blowjob, lots of masturbation, its just mindless smut so um... yea.... i need to go to horny jail fr for this one.
word count: 1k
I just need more perv!sukuna man.... fucking pathetic and desperate and horny, i want him with that degenerate behaviour. hes alr a horny ass mf but ohhh my goodness do YOU light a fire in him that nobody else can... You make him question his fucking dignity bc he gets a raging boner every time you do the bare minimum...
Perv!sukuna who needs to take a bathroom break every now and then around you bc his dick just wont stay down - fucking his fist desperately in a toilet stall being as quiet as possible because this is so out of character for his image, he's supposed to be the nonchalant, mean, coldhearted guy!!
Perv!sukuna who shudders from how turned on he is at the simplest things you might do, like when you bump into him on accident and the scent of your perfume hits his nose like an aphrodisiac, he wants to bury his face against the crook of your neck and inhale deeply - let the smell of you reach deep into his lungs. he wants to run his tongue across your skin so he can check if you taste as good as you smell.
Perv!sukuna who eventually makes his moves on you slowly... but its really difficult when every little kiss makes all the blood rush to his cock. He drops you off to your house after a date, and he makes out with you a little bit in his car before you have to leave, and there, he's sitting in the driver's seat with a tent in his pants. He waits until the window to your room lights up, and begins to stroke himself while thinking about how're you're probably stripping in your bedroom right now, to change your clothes. and speaking of clothes....
Perv!sukuna who likes to bring any of your scented clothes against his nose and jack off vigorously, unable to get enough of it. eyes rolling back when that orgasm hits him while every breath he takes in has your smell embedded in it.
Perv!sukuna who somehow manages to snatch up one of your panties one day and jerks himself off with it... he didn't want to cum directly on it yet, but he couldn't help himself and soiled it so quickly. he'll need to wash it now, and your scent's gonna be lost. if that's the case, he'll just use it a few more times to get himself off. (by the end of it, he's ruined it beyond washing with his seed by going a bit overboard...)
Perv!sukuna who starts nosebleeding the first time he actually gets to wet his dick with your pussy. You were mortified when drops of blood started running down from his nose once his cock was inside you. He wipes it away with tissues from your bedside and insists hes fine with a wolfish grin... he's just overtly aroused. that night, he wound up using a whole box of condoms from just your cunt alone. milked completely. so satiated. at one point, he had forgotten to change condoms after cumming once and blew a couple of loads into the same one, making you balloon up a bit.
Perv!sukuna who has a libido of an endless pit, he can stay hard and just cum over and over and over again... could stuff you so full you'll be pushing his seed out of yourself for literal days after having sex with him, once you're on the pill. he's just dumped his seed into you but his hips are still thrusting, cock heavy and ready to give you another one without pulling out once.
Perv!sukuna who is obsessed with any and every part of your body. the way he gropes your tits, ass, thighs, hips, etc. resembles a perverted old man - those grabby hands are always finding a way to squish your flesh whatever chance he gets. those large, searing and calloused hands are constantly gliding across your skin, making you wet your panties without failing all the damn time. his arms snake under your clothes very sneakily. you can push him away and verbally chastise him all you want, but you can't hide how much you enjoy all of it...
Perv!sukuna who becomes relentless with somnophilia once you give him the consent-- it starts off with just pathetic and desperate dry humping, but soon you'll be waking up with his dick anywhere on the surface of your skin or inside you, and you're greeted with a 'good morning' that's riddled with a deep groan, followed by ropes of his hot cum spilling in or onto you.
Perv!sukuna who just HAS to drag you to somewhere like the public toilets, in order to get you to suck him off or stroke him or SOMETHING bc his boner is getting too painful (you caressed his thigh). you always opt for jerking him off when you're outside, because things tend to get too messy when you let him in. he has no self control smh... now he's fucking YOUR fist in a stall, panting in your ear and saying things like "fuck, yes, baby... squeeze me more- fuu-ck," before painting the toilet with spurts of his cum. you grip firmly onto the base of his dick and he almost buckles over from the pleasure. you feel his pulsating cock in your hand and bite your lip hard.
Perv!sukuna who gets an oral fixation after you gave him head once. things get difficult for you. those pretty lips wrapped around his erection makes him absolutely feral. now he's thrusting in and out of your throat mumbling "fuck- i can't- help myself-" because you're tightening up on him so nicely and it feels too good. releases straight inside with your nose pressed onto his pubic bone, hips jerking as you feel the spurts hit the back of your throat and seep down to your stomach. his eyes half-lidded, high from the pleasure.
sukuna might be the greatest pervert of all time, but what does it say about you when you stay with him regardless? you enjoy being his live fuck toy. thankfully, he gives you great aftercare and spoils you silly behind the scenes. (i wasnt bothered to write the romance aspects so please imagine it yourselves <3) the way i wanted to add MORE but refrained bc it would get a bit too repetitive :)
Masterlist
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sgrplumditz · 4 months
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You had his baby and he didn't know (Pt. 2)
A/N: Thank you for all the positive feedback! I am so beyond grateful that you guys enjoyed the 1st part. I never fathomed to get this much attention from my first post, which means I didn’t really intend on making a part 2. But with such gratitude and motivation… here it is!
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She had told him everything, and through it all he did nothing but soothe her, keeping her small hands in his as her soft voice filled their ears. It wasn't until now that she had realized how absurd it was to feel nervous to tell him the story of her unaccompanied pregnancy, and her introduction to motherhood.
Like herself, he also held no resentment, or distaste toward the secrecy behind the conception and birth of their beautiful baby girl. Simon's only intention was to understand her and her decision to keep their child a secret from him, but in the midst of her reminiscent disclosure he couldn't help but feel alienated, guilty and a rollercoaster of many other emotions revolving her and his daughter.
His usually hard, and stoic gaze had softened for her -- which wasn't an unusual occurrence for him when it came to her, the mother of his child. "Hey, you're alright" he soothed when he noticed a stray tear race down her soft cheek. His thumb instinctively coming up to stop the salty drop of emotion in its track, and likewise she instinctively leaned into the feeling of his large hand that cupped the side of her face.
The moment was tender, intimate, comforting -- it was everything that she craved from him from the moment she found out she was carrying their child. Their baby girl seemed to be emotionally connected to her mother. The sound of her fuss and whimpering coming from the playpen where she had been placed to rest. Both her and Simon's attention was drawn to the infant the moment her restful cooing was replaced with the sounds of discomfort. Her mother knew that she was most likely hungry, but her father, Simon seemed to only be alarmed by the sudden crying. It was evident that his protective nature had taken over -- a quality of his that could not be tamed or ever be put to rest.
"She's just hungry, Si" she spoke, breaking the silence between the two. The melancholy aura of the room immediately being lifted as she chuckled softly at his high alert behavior as it only reminded her of the first few nights that she was home from the hospital with her daughter.
As she normally would she gently picked up their daughter, making sure to keep a firm hand on the back of her neck to support it. Her maternal nature was in full effect as she spoke sweet and soft words to the baby girl. Her cries being soothed, and her simple mind now distracted at the sight and sound of her mother. Simon watched this all divulge in front of him. He didn't know whether his heart ached because he had missed hundreds of moments like these or if he felt such sorrow because he didn't share the same bond with the tiny being that he helped create.
He let his the thoughts and endless "'what if" possibilities consume his mind while she prepared a bottle with the infant still resting in her arm. She was small, measuring out the length of her mother's forearm. Normally she would make the bottle with ease, but as time went by and the baby girl grew, the process slowed down. She was careful and calculated making sure that the baby was always safe in her arms.
"I can take her if you're alright with it" spoke Simon in a mildly nervous tone. “It’d make it easier for you to prepare her bottle, yeah?” he spoke again, using the feeding time as an excuse to finally hold their daughter. But he was nervous? Simon doesn’t get nervous. He has always been incredibly calm and collected to the point of mastering stoicism. He wasn’t nervous to hold the infant — that was the less of his worries.
There were so many special events that he had missed while he was away. Core memories that he doesn’t have with her or her mother. He missed the pregnancy, the first kicks, the birth, the first powerful cries from her little lungs, the first feed from her mother’s full and lactating breasts, the first skin-to-skin contact —which he read was essential for bonding in newborns, the dad walk out of the hospital after being discharged as a family — the one where he knew his overprotective nature would automatically take over.
So many factors playing into the aggregation of his nerves, but there was a single one that was keeping him on edge the most. Simon was nervous that he wouldn’t be able to bond with the small and fragile being that shared half of his DNA. Being absent for so many critical events made him doubtful in his ability to be and feel like a genuine father. All of his nerves dwindling down and relying on this very moment.
But none of it mattered. The pessimistic thoughts that lingered in his brain practically disintegrating. As if the warmth of his daughter’s small body destroyed every doubtful fiber in his own. She was no longer just his biological daughter, but a part of him. His soul was tied to hers, his emotions was connected to hers, his breath was for her. His entire being was engulfed by her.
The baby adjusted herself in his broad, tattooed and muscular arm by leaning her small face into his chest, as if she sensed some sort of familiarity in him. Like mother like daughter.
She watched their entire interaction curiously. She saw his hardened exterior breakdown at the moment their daughter’s infant body fit into his arm like a puzzle piece. It was obvious. Just like she felt her daughter was made for her, she was just as equally made for him. The instant connection between the father and daughter was electric. This was everything she had wanted and more.
She always knew Simon would be a great father — he was a great guy after all — he was attentive, protective, polite, masculine, and so much more, but she never fathomed that it would have been as magnifying as she felt it to be.
Simon’s gaze turned to her and she swore she saw his eyes glistening, tears threatening to spill. No words were exchanged between the two, but she knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking. As their daughter’s mother, she felt those exact emotions as well.
She was then engulfed by his scent. His arms embracing the two most important girls in his life, but it was not just a typical embrace of joy — it was firm, passionate and filled with urgency. He needed them.
With their daughter still resting in his arm, he used his free hand to remove a stray strand of hair from her face before he firmly cupped it. A soft kiss landing on her forehead.
He pressed his forehead to hers and exhaled softly before breaking the silence, “I am so proud of you” he said — his english accent thick and correlating respectively with how emotional he was.
“I am so proud of you” he repeated again, “but you are never doing anything like this alone. We do it together. As a family”.
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death anxiety is a horrible thing because there is no version of it in my mind that gives me peace. 
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teapartyprincess4two · 3 months
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Parenthood- C. Sturniolo
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pairing: Mom!reader x Dad!Chris
classification: SFW & NSFW head cannons
inspiration: request
warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship, I didn’t name the children but Chris has 2 sons in this 👍🏻
summary: head cannons of Dad!Chris.
Parenthood- M. Sturniolo (Matt’s Version)
☆SFW
Fatherhood is something that scared Chris beyond belief, but when you broke the news to him he couldn’t contain his excitement. When your son was born, he fell in love immediately, and you both learned to navigate being parents. Then, when you were blessed with a second son, he was even happier.
☆ Chris cherishes every single memory, he’s really sappy about it all. He has a box full of pictures, baby socks, the wristbands from the hospital, everything.
☆ “Chris, some of this is trash,” you chuckle, filtering through the endless trinkets that all seemed to hold significance to him.
☆ “Our son’s first pair of socks isn’t trash, Y/n!” he snatches the box away from you, carefully placing everything back in.
☆ “Okay, but this dirty napkin?”
☆ “I wiped my tears with that. THANK YOU,” he snatches it from you, his sassy demeanor making you laugh.
☆ Chris loves spoiling his son, whether it be with toys and games, or with summer trips.
☆ He goes all out too, splurging on trips to Disney or to elaborate water parks, making sure to book the hotel and everything.
☆ “Babe, he’s 3. He won’t even remember this,” you chuckle, dragging luggage’s behind you.
☆ “Yes you will. Right, son?” Chris coos, bouncing the baby in his arms and blowing a raspberry into his neck. The baby giggles, the sound being music to Chris’s ears.
☆ The whole week it’s just you and Chris going on all the kiddy rides, snapping pictures of your son, and passing out back at the hotel.
☆ When you find out you’re pregnant with your second son, Chris does everything in his power to make your firstborn’s last months as an only child special.
☆ He takes him to the park, cuddles him to sleep every night, and showers that boy in so much love.
☆ Even though Chris is extremely high energy, being a working dad of two is very tiring.
☆ So, when the kids get older, he starts feeling comfortable taking ‘dad naps’ in random spots around the house.
☆ “Chris, babe, can you help me in here really quick?” you’re balancing a fussy baby on your hip, the other hand stirring whatever’s on the stove.
☆ You peer your head outside to see Chris knocked out on the hanging lounge chair. His chin rests on his chest, mouth open and arms crossed as small snores fall past his lips.
☆ Your oldest son holds a long piece of grass, tickling Chris’s nose with it. Your son whispers eerily,“Wake up daaaad. Wake uppppp.” You can’t help but giggle at the sight.
☆ Chris has successfully managed to cement his legacy as the ‘cool dad,’ or at least he thinks he has.
☆ He loves wearing funky graphic t-shirts when he’s chaperoning the kids, “I was young once too. I was the shit back then, kid.”
☆ Your oldest son just rolls his eyes playfully, but in reality he really looks up to Chris.
☆ Your youngest son loves dressing up like his dad, wearing his oversized t-shirts and beanies so big they fall past his eyes.
☆ “Look mom, I look like daddy!” he exclaims, accidentally tripping on the shirt as he runs towards you.
☆ Other times, Chris will throw on some sunglasses and try acting mysterious.
☆ The mysterious act doesn’t last long though, especially not when your youngest son cuddles up next to him for his afternoon nap or when your oldest starts asking for snack money.
☆ At family parties, Chris goes all out. He’s buying a bouncy house, cooking the burgers, renting an ice cream truck, and inviting all of his family.
☆ He loves playing games with his kids, usually forming teams and challenging them, “Alright me and Matt verses you two. Losers have to jump into the pool with their clothes on.”
☆ “Okay, but uncle Nick has to be on our team,” your oldest replies, fully confident in his ability to win his dad.
☆ Nick is then recruited, and surprisingly isn’t needed because your sons are completely obliterating Chris’s team.
☆ Chris isn’t a sore loser, it’s a trait he never wants to subconsciously pass down to his kids, so he’s jumping into the pool fully clothed as his kids watch in a fit of giggles.
☆ Laundry day is easily Chris’s most hated day, especially with two messy children.
☆ He’ll ‘help’ you fold clothes, which really means that he’s toying with the same shirt and flicking through Netflix.
☆ When the kids are asleep, you and Chris will treat yourself to some takeout because that’s the only time you can order food that the kids don’t usually like.
☆ You two are like little rats, hiding in the pantry munching before the kids hear you and wake up.
☆ One small creak and you’re both frantically hiding the food. “THEY’RE COMING!” he whisper shouts, but when no one opens the door you both fall into a fit of laughter at the dramatics.
☆ As your firstborn son gets older, he starts becoming snappy and somewhat rude, as teenagers often do.
☆ And although Chris doesn’t like reprimanding his kids for the smallest things, he can be stern when it’s necessary.
☆ “Watch your fucking mouth, kid. I don’t want to hear shit like that from you again. Go to bed.” Your son is hanging his head down and trudging to his room.
☆ “Don’t you think you were a little harsh on him?” you whisper, holding onto Chris’s arm gently.
☆ “My kids aren’t gonna be disrespectful, especially not to their momma,” he replies, but when he hears your son sniffling in his room the guilt begins chipping away at him.
☆ It doesn’t take Chris long after that to enter your sons room and engulf him in a hug, scolding him in a much softer manner that informs your son that what he did was still wrong, but also that Chris still loves him.
☆ Baseball, basketball, soccer, lacrosse, hockey, football; your sons are doing it all.
☆ Chris is in the stands, cheering so loud that his voice is hoarse by the end of the game. Even when his kid’s team doesn’t win, he’s still so incredibly proud of their performance.
☆ Chris reps the jerseys, attends the practices, and coaches his sons even when they’re at home, “Widen up your stance then throw!”
☆ Whenever there’s an opportunity to make his boys laugh, Chris is taking it.
☆ He picks them up from school wearing big, fake teeth while playing silly songs on the stereo.
☆ Your sons are never embarrassed, they just hold their sides and laugh uncontrollably, “Dad I’m gonna pee, stop!”
☆ He doesn’t spoil his kids, but he definitely buys them an unnecessary amount of things. It’s mostly harmless stuff like toys, games, and sugary snacks.
☆ “They don’t need any more toys, Chris,” you scold, struggling to make space for all of it.
☆ “We don’t need anything, Y/n,” he replies, his inner child going crazy.
☆NSFW
As parents, it can be hard for you and Chris to make time for each other. Your schedules are packed with school, practices, work, and the few free moments in between are used for household chores. But Chris always makes time for you no matter what.
☆ For the most part, you have to be sneaky. During birthday parties or family events, you take advantage of how distracted your kids are and sneak away into an empty room like teenagers.
☆ Your adrenaline is pumping, clumsy fingers undoing his belt as he kisses you feverishly.
☆ “We have to be quick,” you whisper, watching hungrily as he lines himself up with your entrance.
☆ He doesn’t respond, knees wobbling and his animalistic grunts filling the room as he pumps into you quickly.
☆ Chris doesn’t last long, which is slightly embarrassing, but the times you guys have sex are so few and far between that you can’t blame him.
☆ “Sorry,” he whimpers, pulling out and collapsing next to you. “Don’t be sorry,” you smirk, straddling his hips and getting yourself off as he becomes an overstimulated mess.
☆ On date night Chris books a night at a nearby hotel, dropping the kids off with his parents and telling you to get all dolled up.
☆ He dresses up too, meeting you at the hotel bar and flirting with you like it’s his first time meeting you.
☆ “Hey beautiful, come around here often?”
☆ You play along, the butterflies swarming in your stomach despite sharing an entire life with this man, “I do. Never seen a man as handsome as you here before, though.”
☆ A few champagne glasses later, you’re both giddily walking back to the hotel room and making love under the soft lamp light.
☆ Some random mornings, he wakes up fully bricked and no matter how hard he tries to will the erection away it just won’t subside.
☆ “Y/n, baby, are you awake?” he murmurs, pressing soft, sloppy kisses on your exposed shoulders.
☆ You stir awake, a soft yawn escaping your lips as you reply, “I’m awake.”
☆ He pulls you in closer, his erection pressing against the back of your thigh.
☆ “Need some help there?” you chuckle, immediately understanding his intentions. He hums in response, letting you take over as he watches in a lazy haze.
☆ “So beautiful,” he moans, hands caressing and massaging every inch of your body. You can’t help but blush, hiding yourself in the crook of his neck.
☆ “Look at me,” he instructs, he doesn’t want to miss out on a single thing.
☆ “I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” his lips are latched to yours, an overwhelming feeling of love overtaking him as he blows his load inside of you.
MASTERLIST
A/n: meow 😋 dad Chris anyone? 🎤
- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
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