#feeling good as shit in this chilis tonight

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot #25

Masterpost

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Warnings: torture, murder

He sent Elliot to sleep in his bedroom. The poor thing was exhausted, and he needed a nap somewhere safe. 

After a bit of prodding, Elliot had told him he couldn’t remember anything prior to ‘his old master’ and Horneswood might have some information.

Ambrose couldn’t imagine just… forgetting everything. They had to have done something to his mind. He wracked his brain as he prepped, but he couldn’t think of any natural substance that could erase twenty-odd years of memories.

Surely Elliot had a life before his captors. There was no way he would have run if there wasn’t something in his mind that knew the abuse wasn’t normal. Even if it was subconscious. 

They’d find out soon enough. Elliot wanted to ask the bastard questions, and Ambrose would make sure he got truthful answers. He fished around in his jewelry box for the proper amulet.

He didn’t like using magic much; it felt like cheating. And after so many decades of shortcuts, it was nice to slow down and do things the long way.

This was not the time to do things the long way. Thank goodness he had kept all the magic trinkets and jewelry his husband had given him. 

The amulet was buried under some rings, and it took him a moment to untangle the gold chain from the gemstones. It was an inconspicuous thing, a simple teardrop ruby framed in gold, but the unnatural weight gave it away.

The cold metal immediately warmed in his palm; it recognized him. He clasped the chain around his neck, slipping it under his shirt. 

He couldn't remember what the enchantment was called, but it would let him know when someone was lying or not. A useful thing in an interrogation.

The rest of the preparations were easy. Ambrose rolled up his rugs and put them in the closet. He grabbed some rags and put them down before placing a worn chair in the middle of the room. He took old sheets and draped them over the furniture in case there was any blood spray.

He kept Elliot close by after his nap, occupying him with chores they could do side-by-side.

Until nightfall came.

He sent Elliot up to his room, and chatted nonchalantly with Mr. Horneswood- first name Sebastian (ew). He gently maneuvered the conversation, and found out that Horneswood was far from home, headed back after visiting relatives. 

His disappearance wouldn’t be noticed for months, and like most missing persons, would be assumed dead by exposure or bandits.

Good.

He went ‘to bed’ after filing the information away in his mind.

Elliot had left the door unlocked for him, as planned, and he slipped inside.

“It’s just me,” he whispered to Elliot in the dark. He took his place by the door, hidden in the shadows. He unsheathed Janus’s dagger and waited.

It wasn’t long before he heard Sebastian whistling, the cocky shitbag.

The handle turned, and Ambrose kept still.

Horneswood entered the room, and in the dim light he saw him grin. Just a step further-

Ambrose lunged, clapping his hand over Sebastian’s mouth, the dagger to his neck.

“We need to have a chat.”

___________________

Ambrose pulled off his jacket and tossed it aside. He didn’t want any blood on it.

“I- What are you going to do to me?” whimpered Sebastian. He was tied down on the chair, rope securing his wrists to the armrests and his ankles to the wooden legs. Elliot sat on the sheet-covered couch, watching.

“I’m going to kill you, of course.” Ambrose traced the edge of his dagger. 

“Please- please don’t- I haven’t done any-”

“Bullshit you haven’t,” he snarled. He swung the blade forward, stopping a scant half inch before his throat.

“Elliot has told me enough to know you deserve to die. How that happens depends on you.”

“Wha-”

“You’re going to answer Elliot’s questions. If you tell him the truth, I’ll be nice and make it quick,” he lied. 

“And if you don’t… well. I’m sure you can guess.”

Sebastian’s eyes went wide, and he glanced at Elliot. Ambrose savored his ashen face, the shake in his hands, the quiver of his lip.

How Poetic.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Horneswood’s eyes snapped to his, and they were filled with terror.

“Go ahead, Ellie.”

Elliot looked unsure, but Ambrose gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, love, he can’t hurt you.”

“You- you said Elliot was my new name. What was it before?” He asked quietly. 

“I don’t- what do you mean?” Horneswood looked between them, tears in his eyes.

“Did- I mean. I had a name, didn’t I? Like real people.” Elliot wrung his hands, staring at the floor.

“Answer the question.” He pressed the blade to one of Sebastian’s thumbs, threatening it.

“I don’t remember- I’m sorry!” sobbed Sebastian. “Don’t!”

The amulet tingled and the air tasted sweet. It was the truth- he didn’t know.

“See?” teased Ambrose. “Not so hard.” He let up on the finger.

“How long was I with my old master?” asked Elliot, bolder than before.

“I- um- four years.”

Ambrose inhaled, tasting the air. Bitter. A lie. Too bad.

He dug the tip of the blade into Sebastian's forearm. The man screamed, and Ambrose twisted the dagger. He waited a moment.

“Try again.”

“Six!” he cried. “Please, stop!” Ambrose flicked the pommel, and Hornesood squealed like a stuck pig.

Six years. Elliot couldn’t have been more than sixteen, maybe eighteen. Sebastian was only covering his ass because sixteen was barely legal. Not that it mattered anymore; there were worse crimes afoot.

But even six years of torture surely couldn’t reduce his memory to ash.

No one forgot their own name in six years without help.

He looked over to Elliot, and clearly he hadn’t expected that. 

“Is he lying?” he whispered, and Ambrose shook his head. Elliot looked away.

“I’m sorry,” whimpered Horneswood.

“Shut up,” snapped Ambrose. He grabbed Sebastian’s hair, yanking his head backwards. “What did you do to make him forget? What did you do?”

“Nothing!” protested Sebastian. Lie.

“You did more than nothing.” He pried a finger loose from Horneswood’s clenched fist, and severed it from his hand in one clean cut. 

Sebastian screamed again, high and piercing.

“What did you do?”

Horneswood panted. “It wasn’t me! A mage- owed Ed a favor- some spell- so he’d obey-” he gasped, “Just stop! Please!”

Ambrose glanced at Elliot, who had tears running down his face.

Memory erasure. Elliot’s whole identity, his past, gone in a flash. Irreversible. 

Fuck.

“I- I really was a person-” Elliot looked down at his hands. He covered his face, weeping.

Ambrose put down the knife. 

“Ellie,” he wrapped his arms around him, “you’re still a person.” 

Elliot tucked his head under his chin, pressing his face into his chest, clutching his shirt.

“I’m not,” he sobbed, “Not anymore.” Tears soaked his shirt, but he paid them no heed. “I just th-thought I was a-always this way. Meant to be- to serve. I- I didn’t know- he lied to me-”

Ambrose had already decided earlier that Horneswood wasn’t going to die easily, but now the idea of prolonging even further-

He couldn’t pass that up.

He rubbed Elliot’s back. “Do you want to ask him anything more, sweetheart?” Elliot shook his head. “Alright.”

“Can I sleep in your room?”

“Of course, love.” Ambrose looked over to see Sebastian. “But there might be some noise.” Horneswood’s head snapped up, and Ambrose grinned at him.

“I don’t mind, sir.”

Ambrose kissed Ellie’s forehead. “I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

Ambrose watched him go, the door clicking behind him.

“So,” he turned to Horneswood, “where do you want to start?”

___________________

“How do you feel about castration?”

“Fu’ you,” moaned Horneswood. It had become difficult for him to talk since Ambrose had pulled out a few of his teeth.

Blood dripped from the wounds on Sebastian's chest, and Ambrose considered the scars he’d seen on Elliot. He didn’t have a whip, but there were other ways. He grabbed the iron poker from the stand. Might as well finish him off. It was getting late. 

“Unlikely. But I suppose you make a point. Once I cauterize it, you won’t feel the pain anyway.”

He untied Horneswood’s writs and shoved him forward onto the floor. He straddled his back, forcing his hands behind him. Once he was secured and tied, he cut away the ankle bindings.

Sebastian didn’t have the strength to move away, the blood loss weakening him.

Ambrose put the chair aside. He tapped the ground with the poker, right by his head, and Horneswood flinched.

“I’m going to beat you to death,” he announced. “Sound fair?”

“ ‘illing is a th’in.” panted Sebastian. “Your ‘od will ha’e you.”

A spark of anger flared in Ambrose’s chest. How dare he? “You know, I don’t think he’ll mind.” He clutched the poker, his knuckles turning white.

He brought the poker down on his ankles. Horneswood howled, his bones likely shattering.

Good. 

The cracking of bones was sharp and loud, but it was nothing compared to the sounds of Sebastian’s wailing and piercing shrieks.

Ambrose made his way up Hornewood’s body, his feet, shins, thighs, pelvis (that got special attention), until finally his ribs. 

He wheezed when Ambrose struck his lower chest, and he began to cough blood. It splattered on the floor, tiny droplets of scarlet.

Ambrose paused. He’d perforated his lung, a deadly wound, but if he stopped now it would be hours before Horneswood died. Hours of excruciating pain.

He wiped the poker down with a spare rag. He put it back on its stand.

He cleaned his dagger as Sebastian choked and coughed.

He put another log on the fire. 

Ambrose went into the bathroom to wash up. He scrubbed his hands, washed his face, brushed his teeth as Horneswood sputtered on the floor.

He wasn’t going anywhere, and would be dead by morning.

___________________

Master Ambrose slipped into bed beside him, smelling faintly of blood. Elliot rolled over, burrowing into him. Ambrose was warm, and protective, and Elliot could finally relax.

“Is he dead?”

Ambrose wrapped an arm around him, a hand coming to pet his hair.

“Dying,” he said. “He won’t hurt you anymore.”

“’Kay. Thank you.” Ambrose pulled him close, humming, and the comfortable sound lulled him into a deep sleep.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone @snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @magdalena-writes @latenightcupsofcoffee @tobiaslut

#screaming cheering applauding #feeling good as shit in this chilis tonight #my writing #whump #ambrose and elliot #slavery whump #whumper turned whumpee

[knowlesian]

not to be annoyingly optimistic once again but i had one of those Rare Positive Disagreements online where we found common ground despite an overall different view on an adjacent relatively unimportant issue we still disagreed about by the end of it, and it reminded me there is genuine value to assuming good faith in initial interactions with people

you can always go “ah, i see i was mistaken! you are indeed the worst version of what i might have taken from your words and i can now react accordingly” after you clarify what they meant but what if they aren’t actually saying that worst thing??? miracles can happen

#feeling the love for humanity in this chili’s tonight #we can suck sometimes but also we can be cool #and it’s always good to remind myself online silos made me worse at not finding uniform agreement all the time #v on the shit that actually matters to me

[icannotgetoverbirds]

the model and the letter

a piece written by a friend of mine, who goes by Kea, about growing up as a little mormon girl.

A little girl does her best to sit quietly, her arms folded, her eyes closed, in the tiny plastic chair. She wears a dress that is too warm and a little itchy. Somebody is praying at the front of the room. Her eyes open accidentally, and her heart rate speeds up before she squeezes them shut, admonishing herself for making a mistake.

The sacrament is in a few minutes. She can repent of her sins then - though she reminds herself that she’s too young to need this: her sins are not her own until she turns eight. Her sins belong to her parents, and she feels a twinge of guilt for burdening them with her mistakes. Still, it’s such a small thing, which she recognizes, and it was an honest mistake that was immediately corrected.

When the sacrament is passed, she eyes the young men bringing around the bread and water. They look awfully nice in their suits. I bet I’d look nice in a suit, she thinks. I bet they’re more comfortable than this dress.

She does not realize that, despite what everyone tells her, she will grow up to be a man with a severe appreciation for button-downs and ties.

At eight, the little girl has spent much of her time wanting to tuck her hair into a baseball cap, to be the girl that everyone assumes is a boy. She doesn’t really want to pull the cap off to let her hair fall out, though. She’s not really sure what’s so exciting about that.

She wears a white dress as an older man conducts an interview for her baptism. He asks her questions. He asks her if she has what she needs.

She lies.

She does not have what she needs. She believes that being baptized will bring it to her. She believes that this lie is okay, because he does not catch it, and if she needs the baptism to gain what she does not have, surely it must be acceptable to say what is necessary to be baptized.

She changes into a white jumpsuit, and her father chants a predetermined prayer before pushing her under the water. When she comes back up, she feels… something. 

If nothing else, she has completed the ritual that will allow her to be accepted by her family and the people around her. The water is warm, and she takes great pleasure in swimming away from her father with movements she categorizes as frog-like.

After she dries off and changes back into her ceremonial white dress, several men put their hands on her head, one chanting a different predetermined prayer to confirm the baptism.

She never truly receives what she was looking for.

At fourteen, she is confused, worried, and unsure. She is anxious, and she has realized that she is queer. She thinks she belongs, anyway. After all, her sexuality is the single most acceptable within her community: asexuality makes abstinence incredibly easy.

Her next ritual is with a prophesier of sorts, called the patriarch. Again, a man lays his hands on her head, and speaks her future. She hoped he would have answers for her.

He does not.

She leaves deflated but with a smile anyways - his words still meant something, right?

At seventeen, she begins to question things. After all, she wants to date eventually, but dating a man seems to not be in the cards. She wants to try and date women, but it’s forbidden by God Himself.

She tries to think her way out of it - if God loves humanity, how can He hate love? If He asked us to love one another, how can He accept the hatred His people have for those that love differently?

She can no longer think her way out of it. She shelves the issue, files it away neatly in her brain under conundrums she may never understand.

At nineteen, it hits him. First, that he refuses to be a part of an organization that treats queer people as less than human, as less worthy of glory in God, and secondly, that he is, in fact, a trans man.

Of all the things he is excited to do now that his community no longer restricts him, by far the most thrilling concept is being himself.

He finds a new community with others like him, and learns from the people within that there is more to his old community than he realized.

He learns of an evaluation first. The BITE model, which damns the organization he grew up in entirely, labeling it a cult.

He wants to think his way out of it, but he knows that he simply can’t do that anymore. His filing system has to be recategorized entirely. It’s time to relabel many of the things he learned as belonging to a cult.

On the bright side, he can now remove several concepts from the conundrums he may never understand and sort them into proper categories.

Suddenly, he is no longer an inactive or former member. He is a cult survivor, and he sees startling connections between the actions of the cult and the actions of abusers.

He tries to make a molehill out of a mountain, to level his cult with religions that have similar traits.

Then he hears about the CES letter. He reads it, and suddenly there is more recategorization to be done. An uncomfortably significant amount of fog clears from his thoughts. Things have never been right here. 

He had seen the cult’s sharp teeth, just as he had seen his father’s sharp teeth. He understands that he cannot stand by and say, “this is not right for me”. He realizes that he must stand up and say, “this is not right at all.”

He cannot bring himself to tell his family that they are living a lie. He cannot bring himself to dismantle the beliefs that comfort his relatives. He cannot bring himself to quietly say to any member’s face what he should be shouting from the rooftops.

He does not say nothing, however.

He simply writes it down. Types it out on a school laptop, prints it on someone else’s machine, binds it with his mother’s scrapbook cardstock.

He is not sure what to do with the small book. He knows he cannot distribute it anywhere near home. He knows that if his family found it, they might never forgive him, or they might never stop trying to convince him of their truth.

It’s a little funny, actually. It reminds him of a story he has heard many, many times.

#THE PRONOUN CHANGE THO #also #tw misgendering #kinda #not really #it might b triggering as that 4 some ppl tho #but i feel like girl and woman are different genders #yknow? #also also #THAT LAST LINE #exmo #exmormon #apostake #apostate #deconvert #exvangelical #ex christian #deconstruction #im feeling very exmo in this chilis tonight #like holy shit dude it's so good??? #i got permission to post this #he told me he wants this to be distributed to as many people as possible #basically like #as long as you don't change it. claim it as your own. or charge for it #feel free to distribute it wherever and whenever the fuck you want #that last line im sorry i cannot get over it #like that hits extra hard for exmos #im trying to see about printing it and sending it to a friend for distribution #i checked and the friend im sending it to doesn't live anywhere near kea so it's all good #he's got quite a few of these

[emmett-mchearty]

Me currently:

#i am feeling Not Good in this chilis tonight #tfw your last irl 'friend' ghosts you the day you planned to hang out and hasnt said shit in 48 hrs #not like i planned a bunch of shit for their bday or anything #tired of them only coming around to get cheap weed #tired of being ghosted and ignored and unappreciated #honestly glad im moving states now i need adult friends that know how to actually Be Adults #just sucks that now i have literally no one irl at the moment #anyway dont mind me i just needed to vent to something #if you see this and wanna send me a little love id really appreciate it #this whole situation has my rsd and bpd acting up like a rabid dog and i feel really shitty #thats also why i havent been posting much my mental health is in the shitter and circling the drain #personal posts #delete later

[the-moogle-of-your-nightmares]

god it was a good idea to restock myself on this high-caf tea. it is a godsend to have a proper source of caffeine that doesn't make me jittery, nor would i have to drink two or three times as much for my proper dose, nor is it a roll of the dice whether it'll make me gag so hard i have to add ice cream and tons of creamer to cover up the taste.

finally having some disposable fuckin income to last me a while has been one of the few bright spots in this awful, awful goddamn year, and it legit makes me emotional to be able to afford--and stock up on--some things that are a bit on the expensive side but will improve my quality of life immensely.

[parent death talk under the cut cw]

it especially makes me emotional because i first discovered this tea when i was out of caffeine supplies in the weeks after my mom's death, living alone in the house where it happened--a few dozen yards from the room itself at most, 95% of the time, and that far only when holed up in my room. i get the impression it was a treat she had stashed away and never got the chance to have most of; and it made me feel closer to her to have it as medicine and comfort on those long, dark nights with my sleep schedule turned around and the footsteps of ghosts in my house, with jenny nicholson videos running in the background through to the sunrise.

among the many deep, dark lows of this year, those weeks were one of the worst and best parts of it, all at the same time, and it's a relief to be able to have this again. it makes me feel that little bit better about... everything. it's what she would have wanted.

#moogletalks #a pocketful of good things #courage dear heart #parent death cw #death cw #having just. emotions about fancy tea in this chili's tonight. #i have the feeling the vampire diaries video will probably become a yearly watch #just. yeah. #also finally fucking getting my replacement headphones in the mail after losing one of them for two months #christ has that shit tanked my mental and sensory health so hard and there's a bunch of stuff i've wanted to watch/play/listen to #and have been saving for when they won't be ruined by only having one headphone #or my shitty phone speaker #thank god

[voxbrini]

thought i woke up from a fever dream this morning but no this actually happened???

#thank you so much i feel good vibes in this chilis tonight #sickest shit ever #still screaming #didn't even know he had a tumblr anymore

[oysters-aint-for-me]

look im not that into my chemical romance. it’s good music don’t get me wrong i get it, i just never got into it or the band members or anything. but that doesn’t stop me from smiling whenever that one singer y’all love (i’m not going to embarrass myself by trying to guess his name) comes onstage for what seems to be an encore and they are wearing a skirt of some kind and y’all flood my dash with grainy photos and videos of them twirling around in the skirt with captions like I AM GOING TO EAT GLASS AND SHIT ON THE WALLS. I AM GOING TO REND MY SHIRT AND TEAR MY HAIR. I FEEL GENDER IN THIS CHILI’S TONIGHT. it’s like. every time they show up in a skirt y’all celebrate with the same intensity as though it’s never happened before even though it’s happened so many times by now. i just. there’s so much palpable and fervent gender euphoria whenever it happens, not just for the mcr person but for everyone who is a fan and for everyone who is friends with fans. maybe gender euphoria is a little bit contagious. not contagious like a virus, but like laughter. idk. it’s just nice to see trans and nb people trip the light fantastic over our collective weird genders!

#mcr

[kissitbttr]

I saw this one TikTok where the girl likes to send her boyfriend selfies of her throughout the day and she would get upset if he doesn’t hype her up enough, you think that’s a frat!miguel thing or the married!miguel thing??

i would say both!!! they are all down bad for their women🤭

but this could lean more towards frat!miguel’s girl!!

—

her: *sends a pic of her selfie* dolled up for girls dinner tonight<3

miguel: oh my god babyyyy😍😍😍

her: did you moan when you see it?

miguel: came in my pants even

you: good

-

or that one time when miguel had a football practice and would be coming back late to the frat house where she had been waiting too long for him in his room,

she decided to send 5+ pics of her on his bed, wearing his shirt and panties, and it’s not because she was actually horny but mainly trying to fishing out compliments from him lmao

her: i miss yewww *pics sent*

her: tell the coach to wrap it the fuck up

miguel: you look good

miguel: i will xx

she frowned. where were the heart eyes?? the eggplant emoji?? the muñeca calling??

her: that’s it??!

she waited for good ten minutes, huffing and puffing at his slow response. then she heard a ding

miguel: 🍆🍆🍆🐱🐱🐱💦💦💦

miguel: ^that’s on the agenda today once i get back

miguel: i’m fucking the shit out of my girl

giggling, she typed back

her: sounds fun xx

her: got you some chili oil noodles and dumplings

her: I know you’re always hungry after sex

miguel: you know me so well, baby

-

miguel: send me a titty pic

her: ?????

miguel: please, muñeca?

miguel: i’m bored. the guys are fucking annoying

miguel: drinking doesn’t feel fun without you:(((

her: fine

her: *sent*

her: happy?!

miguel: MY GIRLSSSSS

miguel: MY BOOBIESSSS

miguel: MY HONKERSSSS

miguel: 😍😍😍😍

miguel: DADDY MISS YOU BOTHHH!!!

her: any more of that, you’ll lose titty privilege

miguel: got it

#frat!miguel

[textpostsfromthevoid]

can I just throw out a plug for vegan chili?

even if you're not vegan its just yummy as hell, cheap as hell, so easy my disabled ass can throw it together on a good day, can be made either with a basic ass pot on a stove or in a croc pot if you don't have access to a stove. I just made like a week's worth of dinner for 2 people for like $11

the spices are easy to buy in bulk at a hispanic market or you can get them for cheap at a dollar store and you really only need chili powder, cumin, and paprika but you can spice it up with garlic powder and smoked paprika and whatever else you like

you can make it entirely out of shelf-stable shit and stock up a can at a time over a few weeks or you can keep it all in your pantry for when you feel like chili no meal prep needed

its totally gluten free and can be corn free too and it's great on its own or with corn bread or tortilla chips so you can have a full meal without having to substitute shit

i just love vegan chili so much it's healthy as shit all kinds of veggies and good protien

Anyway my recipe today was 1 onion 1 pepper (sometimes I skip the pepper or use frozen bagged peppers & onions it doesn't matter) 2 cans black beans 2 cans red beans 1 can rotel 1 can diced tomatoes but like any canned tomato product works 1 can tomato paste 1 carton veggie broth 1 can corn 1 c dry lentils spices toss it all in the croc pot (you can sautee the onions first if you want but I was lazy) and just give it a little stir every few hours and top it off with more stock or water until the lentils are totally cooked and then eat it! I splurged on corn bread for tonight but later I'll probably eat it with tortilla chips instead of a spoon

if you wanna put cheese or meat on it that's fine too!

if you can't eat beans I'm sorry you can't have chili that sucks for you

if you make some vegan chili please share it I'd love to see!

#food #recipes #vegan chili #im seriously considering boosting this post #i just love chili #wholesome #swearing

[wildemaven]

Fun. Fresh. Flavorful.

pairing: dieter bravo x poppy f!reader

word count: 514

content warning: 18+ blog; talk of food, feeling full after eating, smut, licking fingers, barbecue sauce

note: sent @gnpwdrnwhiskey this tiktok because it reminded me of Dieter and she gave me this idea, so big thank you to her for beta’ing and encouraging me to whip this up for Dieter and Poppy.

series masterlist

The lock clicks closed as your body slumps against the wooden front door, your tired legs barely able to hold your satiated body upright. Dieter is already removing his shoes and coat, tossing everything in whichever direction his body happens to stumble to.

“Oh my god! I’m so stuffed!” You groaned, your fingers working at the button of your jeans, immediate relief once it’s undone. Your shoulders drop, relaxing further against the door with less pressure against your full stomach. 

“You’re about ready to be stuffed with something else.” Dieter says as he stalks towards you, now in nothing but his black boxers and socks. 

“You are the wor—“ Dieter cuts you off with a kiss, he still tastes of a distinct smoky-tangy-sweetness. His hands work their way under your shirt, you had been craving this since you both had left for your date a few hours ago, anticipating how your husband would be on you the moment you stepped through the door. 

“I'm about to give you the okayest weinerin’ of your life.” Dieter mumbles against your neck, his lips and tongue working together to cover every bit of exposed skin he can reach. 

“Just the okayest? That’s all you got in you tonight?” A moan races from your lips when he hits the sensitive spot right below your ear. 

“Pops, we were at Chili's, did you see how many ribs I ate— l am too full for anything more. Okayest is gonna have to do.” He’s an easy sell, and you’ll gladly take his okayest any day, because even then the sex is still satisfying. 

Dieter delivers more than okay or even okayest, your body buzzing after the two orgasms he pulled from you with his mouth and fingers. He somehow managed to maneuver you both to bed to continue his ‘weinerin’ as he had called it earlier. 

“Shit! Dieter— right there! Don’t— fuckfuckfuck —stop!” You whine to Dieter as he hovers over you, the blissed out look on his face signals he might be as close as you are. 

“I’m not stoppin’— you’re squeezing me so good, Poppy.” 

Your fingers scratching at his scalp, a few tugs of his hair have him groaning, silently begging for more. his curls damp and— sticky? You pull your hand from his hair, it’s covered in a thick red… sauce. 

“Dieter— babe, there’s barbecue sauce in your hair.” Holding your hand in front of him, your fingers cover the goopy liquid, prompting him to stop mid-thrust to inspect. 

Dieter leans his body onto the forearm that’s resting next to your head. He grabs your wrist to take a closer look. His brows furrow up, confused by your finding, trying to replay the evening and pinpoint how the barbecue sauce got in his hair. 

“Hmm. Barbecue sauce?” And without a second thought, his tongue glides up the length of your fingers, taking as much of the sauce as he can. He wraps his lips around the remaining sauce covered fingers, humming as he sucks on your tangy sweet fingers. “Fucking delicious, Poppy. Okay, where were we?”

#Dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #sweet creature series #Dieter x poppy #Wildemaven writes #pedrostories #Pedro pascal

[small-sinclair]

Hey! I saw you posted the A/B/O prompt list, so I bring you

“I got into some trouble today. I sort of punched an Alpha in the face when he touched me. Long story short, there’s a couple of officers at the door who would like to talk to you about getting control of your Omega.”

With Bo Sinclair, he obviously is all like “I’ll teach them a lesson!” To the officers but as soon as that door shuts it’s praise and kisses to the reader (reader can be gn)

Thank you for being my first ask! :D Never wrote for an a/b/o prompt, but I think this turned out well!

Alpha!Bo x gn!y/n

Tw: hints of sexual assault, strong words, mentions of past abuser

Tarts and Swears

"Let me talk to him? Please--"

"Those Sinclair boys should keep you on a leash."

As much as you wanted to snap at the officer, you knew that you were in more trouble than you wanted. It's not your fault that you're in this mess! Clearly, the other Alpha knew you were claimed by the ungodly amount of marks on your neck and shoulders. Shit, everyone could see them when you were in town to get fresh fruits for that fruit tart you promised to make for Bo and Vincent! You always bragged about it, and, because he's such a star, you were able to go to town to get the items for the tart. You made sure to were a cute shoulder flare shirt with strawberries on it (Bo's favorite fruit), and a list with everything you need. Yes, you never leave Ambrose without Lester, but you promised Bo you'll be careful! You promised...

Now, you're coming home in the back of a cop car with your bike tied to the roof, knee scrapped, and your favorite shoulder shirt dirtied and ripped. It'll take more than Dawn soap and a good wash to get the mud stains out. But the worst part? You didn't even get the chance to buy anything for the tarts!

"Just let me talk to him," you said in a sigh. "I think it'll be best if he hears it from me." You felt so defeated as you stepped out of the back of the squad car, the bruised Alpha stepping out of his truck. Gods, what a sleaze ball. He was the one that cornered you and tried to--

Swallowing hard, you raised a hand to the door and opened to go inside, officers following in along with the Alpha.

"Bo?" You called, noticing the T.V. on in the den and the smell of something spicy in the kitchen. Vincent must be cooking chili tonight. "Honeycomb?"

From above, boots patter on the wood and a shadow cast down the steps, getting closer and closer, until your Alpha stopped halfway on the landing. Though you've seen him many time ins his work uniform, seeing the sleeves tied at his hips and white, greased stain shirt underneath made his sweaty curls glow like a halo made from mud and oil. Confused eyes glossed over the two officers then the blue eyes lit in flames when he saw the unknown Alpha in his living room. You thought you heard a low growl coming from him, but it might be the wooden steps as he stomped down, fists falling tightly until his knuckles turned white. You could feel the other Alpha smirk at this, his ego growing bigger by the minute.

You left your spot and stood between the officers and Bo, your hands slipping onto his chest. You could smell the anger boiling over as his eyes snapped down at you then at the officers. Over his shoulder, you saw Vincent stick his head around the corner. He leaned against the doorway to watch the show (or step in if things get out of control).

You cleared your throat and said nervously, “I got into some trouble today."

Bo scuffed. He might've as well punched you. "I can fuckin' see 'at."

"I sort of punched an Alpha in the face when he touched me." You breathed out, touching his arm. You felt his energy shift as when he noticed your hurt knee and torn shirt. Before he could get a word in, you said, "Long story short, there’s a couple of officers at the door who would like to talk to you about getting control of your Omega.”

Vincent stiffened as soon as he smelt the scent of the other Alpha on you, and he could see where his hands were. He clinched his jaw tightly as his lone eyes glared at the man, who was being guarded by the two officers. Bo caught on as if he could read Vincent's thoughts, and, oh, how he hated the smell.

Icy blue eyes look up from you to the officers. "'S true, Andrew?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Andrew (the one on the right, the smaller one with no wedding ring) answered. "Dustin says he got hurt by 'em. Gotta control 'em, Sinclair."

Bo bit his lower lip and looked at his brother, who was gripping his sweatshirt a little too tight. "Yer tellin' me 'at my little darlin'," he pushed you to the side as gently as he could, but he was firm, "hurt him? Are we talkin' 'bout the same Omega, right?" He then gestures to you in disbelief. "I mean, look at 'em! Pool noodles for arms and damn chicken legs. Wha' happened? They barked at ya wrong?" Bo didn't mean to laugh, but it was just so damn funny to him! How could a little thing like you do any harm? He could tell there was a lie somewhere, but this is an Alpha's world, and an Omega's word means nothing.

"Just want an apology, Sinclair," the Alpha--Dustin--said. "'At's all I want."

"Ya ain't getting it," Bo answered, crossing his arms. "I only smell you on 'em." Then he took a deep breath, narrowing your scent in the air. It traveled around the officers to Dustin's bruised cheek. You did a beautiful right hook, but he didn't show his pride for you. "Not the other way around."

Andrew shifted his weight, uncomfortable with all of this. This was wrong, all of it! He's known Bo since kindergarten, and they shared snacks and math test answers throughout high school! Yeah, he and his twin are a bit out there, but who wasn't it? He promised to be lawful and right for all, and here he was. This was eating him from the inside out, and you almost felt sorry for him.

But if he wants to stay in the den, stay in the little pack who took him in no matter the methods, he has to follow the rules like a good dog. A good boy... just like his mother told him when he learned about this world. "You can say it an' not mean it?"

"Andrew--"

"Arron, we're 'n someone else's home askin' fer an apology fer something that-- the Omega had every right to hit 'im! An' ya know 'at!" Look at that... Andrew found his voice for the first time.

You look between him and the others, Bo stepping in front of you as if there was going to be blood shed. You closed your eyes as you gripped the back of Bo's shirt, letting out a low whine just for him to hear. You wanted this to be over and done with. Yo knew you'll be locked forever and never be left free. You'll be chained to the floor as punishment like by the Alpha before. The things your Alpha before did to you was enough to make Bo's stomach flip.

Bo's shoulder straightened. "Andrew," he said firmly. "Don't worry. I'll teach 'em a lesson on manners." Your heart shattered. But... but you were so good. He saw what happened! Shit, he could smell it from two miles away! "As fer you," he nodded at Dustin, "git off my lan' an' never look back."

Dustin rolled his eyes. "Then keep that thing on a leash."

Bo bit down hard on his teeth as he watched the officers leave. "Vincent," Bo said, his voice making you jump. "Go get y/n's bike off the car."

As Vincent past him, he stopped and looked between you and Bo, who gave a silent nod on not letting Dustin leave this town. He wanted him alive. Breathing. Just so he could take all of that away.

Andrew was the last to leave, his green eyes cast down at the wooden floors. "'M sorry, Bo."

"It'll be fine," Bo answered. He stayed firm but... "I hope ya fin' yer path, Andy."

Andrew swallowed the lump in his throat. "Thank you, Alpha." he closed the door behind him, leaving you and Bo alone.

The house never felt so silent until now, and you wait for him to start yelling, to call you careless and a disappointment, asking you if you knew better or not. You wait for the sting of a hand to cross your face like the Alpha before him did, and you flinched when he turned to face you. His shadow towered over you like raves over the dead, and you might as well be dead. You had a good run at being alive in this town. You've been running on barrow time in a town known for time limits. As you felt a hand lift your head, you didn't realize you were crying as you looked at your Alpha.

"Y/n?" It was just you and Bo... why do you feel like eyes are watching your next moves. "Sweetie-belle, did he push ya? Hurt ya?"

You found yourself nodding. "I-I was so scared, Bo," you didn't mean to sound so pathetic, cringing at your own voice. "I-I said no but he didn't--" You finally broke as you feel into his chest. His arms wrapped around you protectively, tight and warm. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Bo--!"

"Shh, shh, darlin'," he whispered, rubbing your back in gentle circles. "Ya did good. You stood yer' ground an' fought back jus' how Vince and I taught ya." He kissed the crown of your head. "You did so well."

"But-but the tarts--"

"Those can wait another day, yeah?" He finished. He had you look up at him, a hand brushing the tears away. "Ya did so well with standing your ground." You never seen how warm a smile could be until you met Bo Sinclair. How safe and protected you were when he and Vincent are around. "'M so proud of you, y/n." He lowered his head and stole a gentle kiss from your lips, tasting faint cigarette and mint.

He searched your eyes, his ocean blue eyes mixing with a bright hazel nut and gold. He kissed you again, deepening it this time, holding you as if you were going to fade from his arms like dust if he ever let go. He should've been more careful with you, more protective and went with you. Seeing you hurt, knees scrapped and perfect skin damaged was enough to drive him, but to hear you apologize through tears as if it was your fault? Ambrose has seen blood shed before, but it'll see Hell cracking underneath the church floors after he's done with Dustin. Putting you on a leash? Where does this prick get off?

And I bet he ever ruined your favorite shirt, y/n, he thought bitterly to himself.

He pulls away from your lips and let you nuzzle into his neck. "I swear, darlin', you'll never see him again." His grip tights around you. "I swear to you."

#bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x gender neutral reader #bo sinclair x gn reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x y/n #vincent sinclair x gn reader #vincent sinclair x gender neutral reader #house of wax fanfic #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #house of wax (2005) #house of wax fanfiction #alpha!bo sinclair x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher au

[icannotgetoverbirds]

i can understand that god has a lot of reasons to nerf me but could he at least make it quick instead of dragging this shit out

#like my guy you are not helping to convince me that you're not an asshole #obviously this is a joke i don't think god exists #im not about to blame him for all the bad shit happening and then credit myself for all the good shit #just like i shouldn't credit him for all the good shit and blame myself/humanity for all the bad shit #because that'd be a double standard #but also like it'd be incredibly funny if god was real and he was pulling this shit #like my guy one (1) person gets pissed off at you and so you curse them with Food Bad Disease? fuck off #that's just sad #incredibly immature of him ngl #but also like we been knew #exmo #byrd is an exmo #ex mormon #ex cult #ex religious #tw god #tw god mention #im feeling very exmo in this chilis tonight #exmormon

[majorpepperidge]

finished up the arguably main plot of MTAS.

Which means Pen's gone. I talked to him in prison, I did 'Pen's Last Words' and got The Protector accessory.

idk how much cryin i got left in me dawg. last 3 nights i've been sobbing into the early AM, and waking up in the afternoon feeling like i slept like shit. call me whatever you want, my ass feels like i've gone thru a genuine breakup over this stupid stupid man.

Don't really feel like I won anything in this game. Do I still think it's fun? Sure! I enjoy playing it but I didn't really care abt a good chunk of the cast, and all my investment was in Pen b/c his character archetype is very, uh, Cheri-core. Man I can't really think of how I wanna say things so lemme just crosspost some stuff from a discord convo

and a meme for good measure because we're coping in this chili's tonight (shoutouts to other romance options also getting shafted)

#Shut up Cheri #My Time at Sandrock #Pen #MTAS Pen #MTAS spoilers

[puckrph]

SHIT MY FRIENDS HAVE SAID PART 5

feel free to change pronouns, etc.

“i’m serving only the coldest, stalest opinions in this chilis tonight.” “this man is girlbossing WAY too close to the sun right now, which is bad, because he’s a vampire.” “he looks like if they peeled the grinch.” “i wish desolation row gerard way had me by the throat for real” “absolutely insane in shows and movies when people don’t have their window screens down. you’re just raw dogging life like that?” “it’s not sadistic if your players can take it.” “i’m doing this all in the service of the christian god, so it’s fine.” “wine-horny is what the fuck or die trope is about.” “it’s hot gay serial killer vampire summer” “[in a yoda voice] MMM. CUNT, THEY ARE SERVING.” “boytoy, enable kill mode.” “your father eats tomatoes like a beast of a man.” “you fool. my muppet-like behavior has blinded you to my competency.” “you people need to calm down.” “you know it’s a good joke when i start whimpering like a hurt dog.” “i’m insulted to my core. are you questioning my patriotism? my dedication to this country? my belief that the american dream is witnessing two f-150’s making passionate love on 690? i’ll have your badge and your head, [NAME].” “your influence is both vast and perplexing.” “putting your blood through a brita filter is discount dialysis.” “people is like sauce: more is better.” “hell would be more fun than this, i think.” “hard to believe the same studio made two games where you get to run around, steal vehicles, and be an asshole, if you want.” “pda stands for people doing atheism.” “first of all, through the power of keanu reeves all things are possible, so jot that down.” “i don’t feel like his name should be david. i feel like it should be… giancarlo.” “you aren’t laughing or loving this, and soon you won’t be living either!” “did i ever tell you about the dream i had where baljeet from phineas and ferb got lightning powers and fought in the clone wars.” “everyone is bullying so much about cooking meat that i simply must become vegan.” “i’m gonna deep clean you out of my life.” “the only difference between a twink and a frat boy is a limp wrist.” “he’s right, of course, i am going to do that. but still.” “what is a roommate if not blorbo from your house?” “i just realized that i’m going to medieval times for the first time on the destiel putin election anniversary. none of those words are in the king james bible. how am i going to cope.” “body dysmorphia? yes, but you can hang dong like nobody’s business.” “he can’t do anything wrong, he’s too cute.” “so many people eat an orange normally. isn’t it better, really, to do it like a weirdo?” “i’m probably in the top 98th percentile of pez dispenser information knowers by the way. most don’t know that about me.” “there is always further to fall from god’s grace.” “jesus is rizzin’?? amogus???” “you think i could gauge the emotions or feeling of any human beings in high school?” “sorry, the coffee never actually kicked in so i’m stupid now.” “the bar for men is so low. just be fun, slay, and be a little fruity!” “i feel like JC probably has some hilarious lines in the quran.” “side note: does anyone else initially read FMA as ‘fuck my alchemist.’” “astigmatism is when you have an eye issue and stigmata is when you have the wounds of christ, right? because i was at the eye doctor and he said ‘looks like we need to correct a stigmata in your eye’ and i was like come again?” “surely the micro plastics and lead cancel each other out, you’ll be fine.” “schrodinger’s sports call: the call exists in a quantum state of correct and bullshit until i figure out how it affects my guys.” “oh, tom waits makes some good songs. he just sounds like a gravel beach got a wish to become a real boy.”

#sentence starters #rp sentence starters #rp memes #askbox memes

[clatterbane]

Currently in baking: something easy and hopefully decent, adding some defrosted frozen broccoli and cauliflower in with one of the chilled vacuum packs of cheesy potatoes which are pretty popular here. (And also pretty good.) Plus some extra packaged cheese sauce we happened to have, as required. Because that's looking like an awful lot of extra vegetable to that amount of potato stuff.

I have combined cheesy broccoli and/or cauliflower in with scalloped potatoes before, just not like this. Don't see why this approach wouldn't work too.

Assembled and ready to go in! I seasoned the vegetables with that fairly mild herb salt, poured some of the cheese sauce over it because it did look like it would need it, then layered the potato pack over top. Level everything out with a spoon, grind some extra white pepper over the top, and it should be good to go in there with a foil hat for the first part. Going to uncover the pan and top it off with some grated cheese the last 15 minutes or so.

Since I did manage to save the necessary spoons with that dish, we're getting slightly more involved for the rest.

The last grocery delivery, I somehow ended up with 3 big bags of on-sale frozen chicken breasts instead of the one I thought I had ordered. So, tonight it's chicken time! Now that I can actually eat it again.

With a makeshift stuffing that I came up with, based on combining several other recipes that I vaguely recall seeing. We've got some jarred pesto with added chili, a cream cheese, a little lazy pecorino for extra flavor, and a few breadcrumbs just to help keep it all together better--to go into the bowl with a big crushed clove of garlic. The same seasoned salt is on standby, in case it needs some.

About as unphotogenic as you might expect, but it tastes pretty good! I did indeed throw things in to taste, fairly successfully aiming for about enough for four smallish pieces of chicken.

(Which were actually from cutting two gigantic defrosted breasts in half. Same amount of bird per person, but easier to handle later. Plus one piece feels stingy. 🥴)

Which I then proceeded to carefully slit pockets into and stuff. Normally something like toothpicks or skewers is advisable, to help hold the pockets shut. But, we didn't seem to have any. So, it's "wrap that shit up in bacon and hope for the best"!

Which I was planning to do anyway, not least since we had exactly 4 slices of bacon left in a pack. But, some toothpicks would have been nice extra security. These have a little black pepper ground over them, and are ready to wait in the fridge until the potatoes have about 25 minutes left to go.

We can add some of the rest of the pesto on the plate, as desired.

#food #clatterbane's half-assed cooking show #improv #not full on macgyver mode today #we've got plenty to work with #chicken #potatoes au gratin #broccoli #cauliflower #cheese #gluten free

[christmasintheloonybin]

tried making chili tonight never made this shit in my life but it tastes pretty good. I looked at a few recipes but I feel a lot of the time like I just have to figure it out myself.