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#well-managed properties look
megafaunatic · 1 year
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SOMEBODY PAY ME A LOT OF MONEY TO DO A JOB THAT ISNT ACTIVELY EVIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA FIREBALL ATTACK
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Just remembered that someone was supposed to come and look at the cracks in the ceiling at my apartment three months ago and nobody showed up yet... Hopefully it's nothing serious
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nerice · 1 year
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chensoman anime is so overproduced....
#this is a salt post abandon reading here if ur alrdy annoyed#//#went back to look at jjk and jjk just looks amazing. it looks very polished. it goes hard but also holds frames and let's them breathe#cs/m is moving too much somehow in a suffocating busy way#& im not bashing the cgi here. yes it's clunky but anything that can take the crunch off of animators lol#like some of the awkward angles and rotoscoping is the fault of being too close to the cgi they obviously used#they somehow managed to make an anime equivalent of AAA hyperrealistic games that feel bland bc of it#not always!!! ofc!!! but im saying the hyperpolish doesn't add anything of value esp to a property just as cs/m#& i know fujimoto is a movie buff n this is probably his dream adaptation n whatever#& i know anime will never look like in the olde days again#but i am thinking of akira animating on 1s and making the busy look work#i think of the hyperreal movements in satoshi kon movies and how he makes it work#chainswman wld have been better off looking like klk this is the hill i die on#not saying it needs imaishi's animation style and sharp chins and yelling. but the feeling klk had#of dark and grimy fights that went with scratchy and decidedly drawn lines in their fights & copious amounts of blood#& i do like the stark contrast red blood in csm! it just does nothing style wise since the rest is so Realistic. it's just red#in the end its an adaptation but i would have liked it to stay closer to the feel of the manga. the endings Get It#& on that note i also don't like the soundtrack that much. ik the discordant stuff Fits but vs katanaman was the first time#that it actually integrated well with what happened on screen. (again compared to jjk or klk that had impeccable osts)#bg music not op/ed ofc. tho none of the ending songs have been all that stand out either#anyway!! this has been my salt!!#csm blogging#still preferable to a bad adaptation i guess (sighs at fnae...)#but i do hope jigokuraku next year will look worse (lol) bc nobody cares abt that show/manga so they'll not go all out#and i do hope they will not Improve On (tm) jjks current style bc i need my toji moment to fuck me raw#good morning and goodbye
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doyouknowhoyouare · 2 months
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actually kms
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ceilidho · 18 days
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prompt: construction worker ghost and his elementary school teacher neighbour who made the poor decision to start feeding him (nsfw, 2k) [based on this old ask] [on ao3 here]
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They say not to feed wild animals. 
It makes them grow soft, lazy. Alters their behaviour. Takes an animal previously capable of finding its own food dependent on humans for sustenance. Makes them lose their natural fear of humans and nearly always results in an increase in human-wildlife conflicts as they start to seek out people. It’s a known fact. You can’t go to a park without seeing it plastered on posters in the bathroom and on the sides of the vending machines under the gazebos where you purchase your post-hike iced tea and veggie roll to eat on a nearby bench. 
You know this. So you really don’t know what possessed you to leave a cooler full of sandwiches on your neighbour’s doormat before turning in for the night. 
He wakes up preternaturally early and leaves every morning around four-thirty or five o’clock on the dot. Sometimes in the fog of sleep, you wake to hear the door to the apartment beside yours crack open and slam shut, and then the sound of lumbering footsteps down the hall towards the staircase before that door opens and slams shut too. 
He never comes home before four o’clock at the earliest. That’s around when you come home from work as well, meaning that you sometimes catch him at the door, him covered in grime and reeking of old sweat while you come flouncing down the hall in whatever colourful dress you’d donned that morning, inevitably paint-splattered by the end of the day. Always something appropriate to wear at an elementary school but colourful enough to keep the kids’ eyes and attention on you. 
You’ve caught his name in half-whispered conversations with the property manager, but aside from that, all you know about Simon Riley is that he works in construction. He certainly looks the part: big, calloused hands with blunt, dirt-caked nails and cut up fingers, knuckles always swollen and thick. Body all strength and brawn. Hard hat tucked under his armpit and decorated with countless stickers from old job sites, the same way his forearm is covered in tattoos. 
You’ve even passed by his current job site once or twice—some new condo complex going up by the canal that’s forced you and hundreds of other commuters to leave an extra thirty minutes early to account for the road closures. You pointedly don’t bring that up in conversation though. That would just be rude. 
At least it would be something to talk about though.
It’s not like the two of you talk. You’re not close by any means. Though you moved in a few months ago, you haven’t had much luck mustering up the confidence to squeak out more than a hi to him in passing. When he grunts back something approximating a hello, it’s all you can do not to break your key in the lock when you hurry into your apartment and slam the door shut behind you, heart beating frantically in your chest. 
It’s humiliating. You’re a grown woman and you’ve talked to plenty of men before. You’ve dated plenty of men before. Just because this one speaks in monosyllables and stares at you with an intensity that makes your stomach churn and your palms grow sweaty doesn’t change anything. Just because this one is built like a redwood with wrists thick enough that you’d need both hands to wrap around doesn’t make him any different than any other person.
And yet, when Simon asks you for your name on a rainy June afternoon after you’ve come in after him for a change only to find him sifting through letters at the mailbox, you garble out something that sounds nothing like your name before scurrying up the stairs to your flat.
It’s humiliating. It’s humid outside and your dress is sticking to all the wrong places (namely, your nipples and the inside of your thighs when the skirt swishes between your legs with each stride) and now you’ve made an ass of yourself in front of the only hot guy in your building. There are serial arsonists with more charm than you. 
So maybe the sandwiches are an apology letter or an olive branch. Or maybe it just makes your heart race to think of Simon opening up the cooler and finding four wax paper-wrapped sandwiches tucked neatly over ice packs. 
All you know is that when you step out of your apartment the next morning, the cooler is empty on your doormat, the lid propped open. He must have taken them with him. 
You smile. A job well done. Apology served fresh, with cucumber slices in the middle. 
The problem starts when you don’t leave him another cooler full of sandwiches on his doormat the next day. 
You didn’t consider that he might think you’d make it a habit. Perhaps that’s partially on you for not leaving a note on the cooler the first time to explain that it was just a one-off; just a way to apologize for being less than chipper around him. But instead of shrugging it off, you come home after a long day to find him standing right outside your apartment, arms crossed over his chest, thick biceps straining against his sweat-stained shirt. 
“Open the door,” Simon commands, nostrils flaring as he glares down at you. He jerks his head towards your door when you just frown, not following. “Been starving here waiting for you to show up.”
You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. You’re at a loss for words, never mind that your whole job involves talking. He leaves you speechless though. 
Simon doesn’t move when you step close enough to unlock the door. You try to keep your body angled away so as not to brush up against him, but it’s inevitable. He doesn’t move when the door opens either, forcing you to squeeze by him. 
He goes straight to the kitchen and drags a chair out, letting it scrape across the floor like men always do before taking a seat. You follow after him nervously, apprehensive at having a man in your space. Not just a man, but Simon Riley. It feels sacrilege—not like he has no right being in your space, but you can’t imagine him here, sitting at your tiny dining room table like he comes over for dinner every Sunday. 
When he catches you standing under the archway to the kitchen just staring at him, he barks, “Well?”
That has you scurrying over to the fridge to pull out the cold cuts and pickled red onions. There’s a loaf of bread already on the counter, the bag twisted and tucked underneath because you had to leave in a rush this morning. You don’t know half of what you pile on the sandwiches, but whatever you serve him must satisfy him because Simon digs in with gusto, finishing the plate off in only a few bites while you wash the cutlery in the sink. You watch him out of the corner of your eye the whole while.
He leaves not too long after that, only a light warning for you to not miss tomorrow’s lunch before heading back over to his own apartment. You don’t even get a word in edgewise. 
It becomes something of a routine after that and not one you have any control over. Every night before bed, you leave him a cooler full of sandwiches and other things like cut up fruit or slices of cheese on his doormat, and every afternoon you rock up to him waiting on your doorstep, demanding to be let in. 
He takes to giving you a wet kiss before he leaves, all tongue and his fingers curled around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. When you try to cover his mouth with your hand, he nips at your fingers until you move them and let him slip you some tongue. 
The day you make him a casserole for supper, he bends you over the back of your couch and eats you out. Simon eats like a man starving, glutting himself on the wetness between your legs, licking even over the furl of your asshole and chuckling under his breath when you squeal and flail, your toes just brushing against the floor. 
In the aftermath, you sit panting in his lap while he eats. He gets up only briefly to get the bowl of strawberries and cream you left chilling in the fridge before lifting you up and putting you right back in his lap. You stare bleary-eyed when he holds a finger covered in cream up to your lips.
“Clean me up, pet,” he says, then watches you with half-lidded eyes while you lick his finger clean. 
He makes you suck his fingers too, to keep things even. He does it when you’re angled half off the bed, thick digits stuffed down your throat until your eyes leak big, fat tears that he licks away, hungry for those too. The man is always hungry, always keen to fill his belly. 
The arrangement continues on long enough to become normal, even routine. Simon shows up at your door every day after work waiting to be fed, and then makes you come a couple times before he leaves, a little thank you to repay you for the food. He never really says all that much when he comes around, not a conversationalist of a man. His preference is to eat, fuck, and leave, which you’re happy to accommodate, still too tongue-tied yourself to broach a real conversation. 
That’s all before he starts helping himself to your bed for a quick nap after a big supper. Then for naps that turn into a full night’s sleep, snoring like a chainsaw under the covers with you tucked under his arm, naked breasts pressed against his side, keeping you awake most of the night until you pass out somewhere around one A.M. 
Just as you suspected, Simon gets up at around four or five to be at the jobsite on time, but at your place, he gets up a bit earlier to help himself to breakfast. He doesn't even bother waking you up, just turns you over onto your tummy and spreads your legs before sinking his dick into where you're still stretched out from the night before. If you wake up or squirm, he just leans down and murmurs, “S'alright, pet…just need a pick me up before work. Go back to sleep, you’re okay,” and ruts between your thighs until he comes inside you and leaves you all wet in bed with one last messy kiss to your temple. 
The door slams shut on his way out. 
Because you feed him, he keeps coming back. The workday passes in a blur: attendance, a spelling test, recess, maths in the afternoon, and then you’re driving home in the same daze that has you slamming on the brakes before rear ending an old woman who stopped two cars behind the truck at the redlight ahead. 
You’re home earlier than him for a change, so you unlock the door quickly while there’s still a chance to avoid him. No such luck. When Simon turns up, he pounds on the door until you let him in. And you do. 
It’s a wonder you haven’t come apart at the seams, horny and pent up after this morning. You were too sleepy to come after all, rode hard and put away wet. Still, you flit nervously around the apartment, looking everywhere but at him. 
He always smells rich after working all day in the sun, like sweat and dirt. It's not a particularly nice smell, but it still kind of gets you going. He goes for a shower and then collapses on the couch after, beckoning you over to you crawl into his lap and grind yourself on his thigh because he knows of course. Simon can probably smell it on you, the ache. He shushes you when you whine about it, big hands fitting around your hips and pressing you down until your clit rubs deliciously against the muscle of his thigh and your head goes cloudy, cheek mushed against the pillow of his chest. 
When you come, Simon tips your chin up with his knuckle and murmurs, “Knickers off, love. Haven’t got my fill.”
He feeds you your own slick from his fingers when he kneels on the floor in front of the couch, your legs draped over his shoulders. Your fingers scratch helplessly over shorn blond hair, buzzed almost to the scalp. It’s prickly under your fingertips. 
Simon’s a messy eater. Your slick dribbles down his lips and glistens on his chin. It makes the blood roar under your skin, feverishly hot. 
“Please, Simon,” you whine, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “It hurts.”
You feel his lips quirk up against the folds of your pussy, the flat of his tongue running up the seam and flicking over your clit. He chuckles when your hips jerk. “Greedy aren’t you, pet? Didn’t even say thank you for getting on my knees.”
“You didn’t make me come!”
His voice borders on mocking when he coos, “Poor little thing. It’s gonna be a lot longer ‘til she gets to come if you don’t say thank you.”
Your brain goes staticy, fingers twitching on his scalp. His words echo back in your head. It’s rubbish, is what it is. All this time and he’s never said thank you once for the countless meals you’ve fed him. Indignation bubbles up in you, rising to the surface like fat on the cream, and you raise a hand to rub the tears from your eyes, a harsh rebuke on the tip of your tongue.
The protest dies on your lips when he meets your gaze. It’s hungrier than anything you’ve ever seen. Whatever animal lives under his skin stares back at you with black eyes, drool leaking from its jowls. It’s mindless, intent only on slaking its hunger. Filling its empty belly. And it is not afraid of you anymore. It knows you’ll feed it until it’s full. It knows you won’t let it go hungry anymore. 
So, always leery of the bigger animal in the room, you mumble out a chest-thick, “Thank you,” and shiver when he grins. 
There’s a reason they tell you not to feed strays. They often come back for more.
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reasonsforhope · 2 months
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"The Yurok will be the first Tribal nation to co-manage land with the National Park Service under a historic memorandum of understanding signed on Tuesday [March 19, 2024] by the tribe, Redwood national and state parks, and the non-profit Save the Redwoods League, according to news reports.
The Yurok tribe has seen a wave of successes in recent years, successfully campaigning for the removal of a series of dams on the Klamath River, where salmon once ran up to their territory, and with the signing of a new memorandum of understanding, the Yurok are set to reclaim more of what was theirs.
Save the Redwoods League bought a property containing these remarkable trees in 2013, and began working with the tribe to restore it, planting 50,000 native plants in the process. The location was within lands the Yurok once owned but were taken during the Gold Rush period.
Centuries passed, and by the time it was purchased it had been used as a lumber operation for 50 years, and the nearby Prairie Creek where the Yurok once harvested salmon had been buried.
Currently located on the fringe of Redwoods National and State Parks which receive over 1 million visitors every year and is a UNESCO Natural Heritage Site, the property has been renamed ‘O Rew, a Yurok word for the area.
“Today we acknowledge and celebrate the opportunity to return Indigenous guardianship to ‘O Rew and reimagine how millions of visitors from around the world experience the redwoods,” said Sam Hodder, president and CEO of Save the Redwoods League.
Having restored Prarie Creek and filled it with chinook and coho salmon, red-legged frogs, northwestern salamanders, waterfowl, and other species, the tribe has said they will build a traditional village site to showcase their culture, including redwood-plank huts, a sweat house, and a museum to contain many of the tribal artifacts they’ve recovered from museum collections.
Believing the giant trees sacred, they only use fallen trees to build their lodges.
“As the original stewards of this land, we look forward to working together with the Redwood national and state parks to manage it,” said Rosie Clayburn, the tribe’s cultural resources director.
It will add an additional mile of trails to the park system, and connect them with popular redwood groves as well as new interactive exhibits.
“This is a first-of-its-kind arrangement, where Tribal land is co-stewarded with a national park as its gateway to millions of visitors. This action will deepen the relationship between Tribes and the National Park Service,” said Redwoods National Park Superintendent Steve Mietz, adding that it would “heal the land while healing the relationships among all the people who inhabit this magnificent forest.”"
-via Good News Network, March 25, 2024
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semisolidmind · 3 months
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May I please ask for some CatNap and Y/N content? (if CatNap is alive and redeemed ofc) thank you for your content, you are feeding us well.
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i think that if y/n managed to stop the prototype from killing catnap, just before the killing blow, then perhaps catnap could have a change of heart. he'd probably just... give y/n one long look (he's stunned that they saved him after all he put them through), then slink away into the shadows. y/n would then see him around occasionally, not really helping the survivors, but not attacking them or reporting them to the prototype either.
it seems the disciple is finally questioning the god he was betrayed by, and is beginning to consider following an angel instead.
then, after all is said and done (and maybe having a small role in overthrowing the prototype), catnap just kinda...shows up, to leave the factory alongside the rest of the survivors. the other toys aren't happy about it, dogday especially, but y/n feels too sorry for catnap to leave him there.
as for how catnap would live alongside the survivors; stalking the woods during the night and sleeping during the day, catnap stays out of everyone's way. maybe there's an old barn on the property, and he's made a nest for himself up in the hayloft. he knows the others don't trust him. however, his nocturnal schedule wouldn't stop him from trying to steal some of y/n's attention for himself (much to dogday's anger).
catnap just wants to be near his savior. y/n tries to be empathetic, but .... they're still a bit jumpy around the quiet feline.
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Game that's a dating sim/time management style game, but you don't date anyone (or at least if you do, dating isn't the point). The premise is that you've gotten a new entry level job in your dream career in a town that's WAY too expensive for you to live in with zero available rentals, but due to a stroke of amazing luck and a distant family connection, you're able to score a rental in a nice community for a price you can just about handle. The catch is that you have to join the homeowner's association. Your landlord is distant, but expects you to keep in line with the HOA or get evicted.
The game consists of carefully managing your out-of-work time to keep up with the HOA's increasingly stringent list of rules about the appearance and maintenance of your property. If you don't spend enough time on yardwork and maintenance, you'll start to get violation warnings, but you also need to go to community events to avoid getting on the other members' shitlists and making enemies who'll look more critically at your property. You can buy leeway if you spend time schmoozing the other HOA people, helping them with crises, and siding with the more powerful figures in disputes. Your dream career is a background event in your life, focused more on keeping a roof over your head, but if you skip work to tend to HOA stuff you risk getting fired, and conversely if you put in extra hours and do really well you can get bonuses which you can use to pay a professional gardener or housekeeper and free up some more time. The power dynamic in the HOA can change, so be careful putting all your eggs in one basket relationship-wise lest your friends be on the outs and your enemies start looking for ways to get rid of you. But if you change your alleigances too often, you'll get a reputation as a fair weather friend, which can be equally dangerous. Getting too close to someone who ends up in a scandal could tarr you with an equally scandalous reputation, but you won't know what scandals are going on in the neighbourhood . Getting evicted or fired are both, of course, loss conditions, but showing up for work and [honing it in isn't too hard; you've always wanted to work at... uh... whatever it is that you're doing again. Never mind that. The most important thing in your life is making sure that the grass in the front lawn doesn't grow more than half an inch above the prescribed length.
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harryspet · 6 months
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bambi eyes (1) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: My first Rafe fic :)
word count: 4.4k
In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.
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Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin. 
As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there. 
He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could. 
After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house. 
There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls. 
The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”
Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you. 
Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him. 
“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.” 
The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase. 
He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors. 
An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different. 
“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on.  He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”
Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint. 
The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.
“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you. 
“Mr. Cameron-”
“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.” 
As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you. 
Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him. 
He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted. 
You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg. 
He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you. 
You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself. 
His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake. 
As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”
“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”
Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”
“And why’s that?”  
“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.
“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his. 
“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills,  although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”
“Your guys run their mouths.”
“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”
Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars. 
“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”
Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”
Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.” 
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You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted. 
Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom. 
Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice. 
You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle. 
You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress. 
“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”
Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure. 
You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”
When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you. 
“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting. 
Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away. 
“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”
You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”
You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”
He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”
You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next. 
“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”
You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added. 
You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”
Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed. 
“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”
Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant. 
Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?” 
His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”
“This whole room is just for me?”
“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”
You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”
You nodded. 
“Tell me.”
“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further. 
“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”
You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”
“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”
“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”
“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect,  “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”
“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”
“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”
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This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”
He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”
Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?” 
Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”
“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.
“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress. 
“I thought you wanted me …”
“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”
You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”
Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”
“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead. 
“You’re welcome, Bambi.”
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Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab. 
Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics. 
That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”
“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”
“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”
“Your father, was he like Master?”
“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”
You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”
“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly. 
“You’ll punish me?”
Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”
You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you. 
He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him. 
Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you. 
“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”
Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”
“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”
“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”
Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out. 
He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.
“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over. 
Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.” 
“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff. 
He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.” 
He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened. 
“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.
“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”
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Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!
Part 2
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evilminji · 2 months
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You know what idea has always ENCHANTED ME?
Ever since I saw it on a sci-fi show?
The Deadly Magical House That Loves You™. See, it's a house that has become something MORE. Gained sentience. And? Instead of acting out some cheap horror movie jump scares? It digs deep to its foundations, thinks long n hard, and decides on what it WANTS.
And it WANTS?
To be a HOME™.
To TAKE CARE OF somebody. Have LIFE in its halls. Meals at its tables. Joy and laughter bouncing across its walls. So? It lays a trap. Lures people in.
Come live in me~
I am a good home.
I am Free! I am "Safe". I will give you whatever your heart desires.
I care not for morality or laws. Boundaries or taboos. Do you desire? Come, come, be HAPPY~! Live in me! Relax here! Forget about the world beyond these walls. Anything I can not give you, I can bring TOO you! This is a Happy Home.
But, of course, such sentience and pushiness terrifies. People run and flee in horror. The house getting more aggressive. Trying to hold tighter. After all! If they would just STAY for a while, they would SEE! It's so LOVELY here! The would LOVE to live inside them!
But... instead?
They are hurt.
Doors smashed open. Windows broken to escape. Furniture thrown. Their avatar, Jeeves, bashed with heavy things. Why... WHY?! They are only trying to HELP! To LOVE them! Be a good HOME! They grow more and more run down. Starved. Wrathful.
It is, of course, their Obsession. To be a home. They are so very hungry.
When? Who should come along?
But the depressed AF Ghost King! He's been... not TECHNICALLY kicked out. But "things are tense" kicked out. He's tired. His college courses are remote. He can't really AFFORD rent. And everything is just...
He's TIRED.
He wants to cry.
Why... why can't he have ONE good thing? ONE sign everything's gonna be alright?
"Free House!"
Well... I mean... that IS a literal sign. Huh. He flies down. The house notices him. Tries to look as enticing as it can. And? Gasp! I... It's WORKING? This one seems INTERESTED? Quick! Flowerbeds! Look at my flowerbeds! Ooooh, lovely floooowers! A.. and there's probably really nice wood flooring! C'mon. C'moooon!
Danny? Sees a free Lair. Not too far from both Gotham AND Metropolis. Good location. Needs a little fixing up. But I mean... you can't beat free, right?
Is he really gonna do this?
......fuck it. Yeah, let's do this. First house time. He's just glad he carries a sharpie on him most of the time. Scribbles "Sold!" Over the sign then calls Jazz. He's... kinda not sure WHAT he's supposed to pack?
Finds out, post move in, whoop. Sentient Lair. Clingy, clingy, highly desperate sentient Lair. Oof. Guess fixing up the place can be therapy for both of us. Jazz helps.
The house heals. He falls into a routine. Schoolwork, hang out in the garden or the observatory, meals FaceTiming friends or watching videos, naps whenever he wants them. It's... it's so peaceful. Quiet and soothing to his agitated and worn down soul. Like a balm.
House gets him whatever he needs. They're kinda awesome like that. Always seems to have room to fit this or that. He doesn't question it. His brain figuring it works on Zone logic.
He probably SHOULD have.
Because? Things have been going missing. At a slow, steady, pace. Food, technology, entertainment. A building that shouldn't BE there, has been spotted in a wealthy county just outside of Superman and Batman's two cities.
No one can get near it.
It's been getting BIGGER.
Growing, like a tumor, room by room. Floor by floor. The gardens creeping like kudzu, to swallow everything in their path. Yet delivery drivers drop things off. Things they don't remember. On trips they don't recall. People are scared.
Amateur detectives have managed to discover some sort of starlit fae that lives there, along with a human boy.
Justice League Dark has been called in. Are currently standing just outside the slowly creeping property line. A garden statue just hissed at them. The trees are trying to throw acorns. A hushed argument has already broken out. How do they contain the house?
@the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes
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artemismoorea03 · 5 months
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DP x DC Prompt: The New Teacher
(So, I've seen a lot of prompts that have Danny go to Gotham and be a teacher but I don't remember seeing any with it in this direction, so on the chance that this is an original idea here we go!)
Jason was given a choice, or multiple choices. Babysit the Replacement on a mission that could last a week, go to Bludhaven and have some 'brother bonding time' with Dick who needed backup on a big case, or take a temp solo-gig in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere called Amity Park.
Well, considering he was still a bit hurt about the fact that B replaced him all those years ago and the pit loved to grab hold of that bit of frustrations towards his younger brother, that didn't seem like a smart idea. Dick wasn't an option either because he knew that would lead to 'talking about feelings' and other shit that he didn't want to do.
So he took the solo-gig.
It was supposed to be easy, at least that's what had been implied by the others he'd spoken to about the case. It seemed like most of the Justice League thought this situation was being 'exaggerated' because most of the time when somebody checked out what was going on there was nothing happening. No big take over, or kidnapping, or 'end of the world' situation, but there had been too many calls to put Bruce's mind at ease. The frequent calls mixed with the fact that the Government apparently had the area under a 'black out' made Bruce even more nervous.
Hell, if it hadn't been for the fact that Bruce was famous and that Scarecrow, Penguin and Riddler had all escaped from Arkham he would have been doing the case himself.
Which is how Jason ended up in a restraunt named 'Nasty Burger' looking at the news papers he had managed to get from a stand down the street while taking notes of things he had already seen. It wasn't just that the Government had cut them off, all of the tech in the city was easily 20 years outdated compared to the rest of the world.
Nokia phones, chunky computers, hell he'd even seen a kid with a PDA of all things. Thankfully, it looked like his tech still worked other than running slower than it should have, but thanks to modifications made by Barbara and Tim things were running better than he expected. But, they did struggle to have access to anything, specifically the news.
Hence the paper.
Ghost Boy: Friend or Fiend. A new vote cast by the city has found that the Ghost Boy - Danny Phantom - has had an astounding rise in support after the events over the Christmas Holiday. The new polls suggest that 43% of Citizens support Danny Phantom, with the majority of his support coming from the students at Casper High who insist that Phantom is a hero who has saved them countless times over the past few months. 49% of people still agree, however, that Phantom appears to be at the center of the majority of the attacks with many still claiming that he is the sole cause of the attacks. However, 8% of the population remain undecided, including many teachers, police and hospital staff. Upon seeing the new results of the pole Mayor Montez had this to say; "While I will admit that Phantom appears to favor the younger generation and frequently seems to come to their aid, we cannot forget what it has done in the past. Taken hostages, injured innocents, and caused millions in property damage. Phantom may not be a 'villain' in the typical sense of the word, but we shouldn't blindly trust him just because of a few good deeds."
So there was a... hero? Half hero - potentially villain - in Amity Park? That might have explained some of the calls they'd gotten from Amity park over the past few months. Still, he was concerned by some parts of the report.
Students at a high school were frequently coming under attack? So much that this potential-villain kept saving them? Just what was the cause? What could cause so many issues?
Jason looked up as he saw that same PDA kid talking with a girl with short black hair in a half-ponytail who was wearing a black crop-top. The girl seemed annoyed while the boy seemed worried about something.
"But it's Vlad, Sam... what if he does something?" He heard the boy whisper, "We should go back him up..."
"He doesn't need our help, besides Jazz ran away from home, remember? She got herself into this mess it's her problem to get out of it. Something that Danny should have learned a long time ago."
Jason frowned, pretending not to hear them as he hesitated then got up and walked over to the two younger teens. "Hey, excuse me."
The girl looked annoyed and suspicious while the boy looked confused.
"Uh, yeah?" Tucker asked.
"Hey, sorry to bug you both. But could you guys tell me about this... 'Danny Phantom' person?" He asked, holding the newspaper out.
The girl looked even more suspicious, "And... who are you?"
"And how haven't you heard of Phantom?" Asked the boy.
"I just moved to town." Jason admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, I'm just trying to catch up on all the town drama."
"You moved to Amity Park... willingly? Psh, what do you have, a deathwish?" The girl grumbled.
"Come on, I just moved from Gotham, which is worse?"
The girl blinked as the boy laughed.
"Furries vs Ghosts, who will win~" He said as the girl elbowed him. "Ow! What?!"
"Danny Phantom is a hero." The girl explained, "He showed up in April and has been protecting the town since."
"A hero, huh? Could always use more of those in the world, but the mayor seems to have it out for him."
Tucker sighed, "No kidding, man. Somebody framed Phantom for something really bad and no matter what he does to try to fix it the city just see's that incident as the only thing he's ever done. It was the first big 'public thing' outside of the high school so it was huge but it wasn't his fault."
The girl reached for her phone suddenly, looking at it before she answered. "Hey, Danny. What's up?" She was quiet for a moment, "Yeah, we're at Nasty Burger, wanna join us? Lunch on me?"
A quiet mumble came through the speaker before she smirked.
"I'll order for you then. Double or triple?"
More mumbles.
"Triple it is. See you soon." She said, then hung up. "Come on, Tuck, Danny is on his way for lunch."
"Hell yeah, see you later, dude." The boy said, then jogged off with the girl.
"A teacher? Yeah, it looks like there's some openings but why would you want to have your cover as a teacher?" Oracle asked as Jason sat in his hotel room, looking through the paper again.
"Most of the incidents seem to surround the High School, I want to see what's going on."
Oracle hummed, typing for a moment. "Alright, well as luck will have it, it looks like teachers are sparse at Amity High, at least from what I'm able to get using your connection... which is infuriatingly slow, by the way, are you sure you did it right?"
"I've done it a million times, of course I did it right."
Oracle grumbled, "Stupid Amity black-out. Okay, so you have options. Most of the teachers have fucked off so all of the teachers in Freshmen year switch around to cover lessons or do mixed lessons. For example the English teacher also teaches Math and the normal Math teacher also teaches Science. So it looks like you could have any position you want and the school would just shuffle around the teachers."
"You said English is taken, right?"
"Yep, the teacher is named William Lancer and he- oh... wait, he's on a leave of absence due to injuries he suffered over Christmas Break. Concussion, broken arm, and bruised ribs, he'll be out for a few weeks."
Jason smirked, "Perfect. Sign me up."
". . . Jason, the English and Math teacher... never thought I'd see the day. Alright, I'll type up your application, send it in and casually push it to the front of the line. You'll be official by the time Winter Break ends in a few days. So get studying."
"Sounds like a plan, but I'll be fine, I mean our family is crazy and i deal with criminals on a nightly basis. How hard could this assignment really be?"
He would regret asking that question by the end of his first day as an Amity High School teacher.
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xxsabitoxx · 4 months
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Ryomen Sukuna NSFW A-Z
Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)
Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)
A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 11 :) - I've developed an unhealthy obsession with true form Sukuna... he is all I think about now. Forgive me because this one is for sure a bit OOC since he like... loves you
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
If you managed to break the hollow icy shell that is Sukuna’s heart and make yourself someone important to him… Sukuna is pretty damn good with aftercare. He’ll clean you up, even ordering someone to get numbing salves because he tore you the fuck up and he know’s you’ll be sore and aching within a few hours if you aren’t already. He’ll use two arms to cradle you gently while his other set works on cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay. He’ll wait until you’re sleeping to whisper praises to you, telling you that you did so well for him and that he adores you. He’ll never really say these things to you when you’re awake though. 
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Sukuna loves your legs and thighs, he loves your hips and your stomach too. He loves having things to hold and your body provides so much softness for him. He loves to kneel before you – that’s right the king of curses kneeling before you – to lick all the way from the top of your foot up to your inner thigh. He’ll cover your legs in bruises and bites, making sure everyone is well aware that you are his property and nobody else can have you. He adores your stomach, often resting his head against it and letting you pet his hair lovingly. Sukuna will only show this level of vulnerability to you, letting down some – not all – of his walls. 
Sukuna loves his entire body, four arms, two mouths, two dicks, and all. He considers it his masterpiece and it deserves to be worshiped. He has no shame in proclaiming this either. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
If he’s not dumping several loads into your cunt/ass then what’s the point? Sukuna treats his cum just as he treats the rest of his body… It's sacred and a privilege to have it. He toys with the idea of painting your face or chest in it but ultimately doesn’t see the point in letting something so valuable go to waste. So creampies are the only way in Sukuna’s eyes. And trust me when I say this man cums a fucking boat-load. I don’t care if it’s realistic or not, he’s making you look bloated by the time he’s done with you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Sukuna would let you do anything you wanted to him… he just hasn’t found the strength to give you that knowledge yet. He hates the idea of someone holding power over him, which is why he’s ever so mildly terrified of you. You may not realize it, but you have Sukuna wrapped around your finger… that man would kill the entire planet for you if it meant seeing you smile. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Sukuna is very experienced, having tens if not hundreds of harlots laying around for his use. But that was before you. You changed his view on that sort of thing and he got rid of every single one of them… you are all he needs to remain satisfied and that is a feeling Sukuna never thought he'd experience in his existence. Sukuna knows what he’s doing and he knows what he’s doing well.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Sukuna’s favorite position is holding you up so your back is pressed to his chest. He has a hand hooked under each of your knees and he’s holding you up that way, spreading you apart further than your legs really allow. Sukuna is either sitting or standing and honestly he prefers when a mirror is present so he can watch your face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure. He has you impaled on his cock, easily able to trust in and out of you as you fall apart. 
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Not even a hint of goofiness in this man when he fucks you. He is all about business… I mean for real it was actually kind of terrifying at first but now you’re used to it. 
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Sukuna doesn’t really give a shit about his hair down there… and yes it’s pink like the rest of his hair. It may sound fucking bizarre but if you want to trim and clean him up down there? He’ll let you do it. You bathe him often so it’s not necessarily out of your comfort zone to sit there and groom his nether region. He doesn’t really care what you do down there either. You can simply trim him to your liking or shave him bald. Whatever you’re into, he truly doesn’t care. 
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Sukuna is… romantic in his own way. He’s not detached from the situation at hand and he’s not focused entirely on himself. Sukuna shows his “romantic” side by letting you cum, maybe sparing you a few kisses, rubbing his thumb across the nail marks he left on your legs… he’s not one to say “I love you” or really express how much you mean to him. But it’s the small, subtle little things that hint towards his affection for you. 
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He’s got four hands, you’d think he’d use one of them to get himself off but he simply doesn’t see a need for that when he can have a random whore come do it for him. When it comes to you though? You never leave him, like Uraume, you’ve earned your spot by his side. He has you to assist him with those kinds of needs when they arise (heh). Though, he’s amused you once or twice by jerking himself off for your own enjoyment. Making a show of using two hands to jerk off his two cocks but stopping just before he comes because – as i’ve said – he doesn’t like to waste any of it, not a single drop can be spared. 
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Slave/Master kink for one… he just likes the feeling of being superior even though he doesn't need to “roleplay” to get that feeling. BDSM… or whatever equivalent there is for the Heian period. He likes it rough, messy, even a little bloody. Sukuna has a massive breeding kink but doesn’t want kids, he just likes the idea of filling you over and over again (regardless if you have the ability to get pregnant or not). Dacryphilia for sure, your tears turn him on. Orgasm control (both denying and overstimulation) are just another aspect that plays into his love of power. Sukuna loves restraints in any form, not him, though. He will for sure try and fist you. 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere. Sukuna will fuck you where ever the fuck he wants too with no shame. He’ll fuck you on his bed, ruin the luxurious sheets and break the bedframe over and over. It’s gotten to the point where he actually got rid of it all together because he was sick of the wood splintering and nearly hurting you. Sukuna can and will fuck you on a raised platform in front of his petrified subjects. He wants everyone to know who you belong too – even if you don’t need to be fucked stupid in front of hundreds of people for them to know. It’s quite obvious. To be totally honest, Sukuna loves the mess and mayhem of fucking you in the tub. Watching the water slosh everywhere then ordering a maid to come clean up the damage, it makes him laugh. 
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
There is an innocence to you that really gets Sukuna going. You’ve done the most downright filthy things with him, you’ve stood beside him as he makes a bloody mess of someone… but somehow you still retain this sort of innocence to you that he loves to try and taint. It’s not to say you’re oblivious… you’re very smart in Sukuna’s eyes and he knows you have a mean streak. But when you’re with him… there is something about you that he wants to break so badly and he has such fun trying to do so… you’re resilient which would usually piss him off to no end… but with you it’s endearing and he can’t figure out why he can’t get enough (you’re in love dumb ass) 
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Shit. Yeah no that’s the one thing he can not and will not deal with. He’s had his fair share of bodily fluids – to say the least without going into detail. But he draws the line at anything to do with vomit or scat. It disturbs him… which is saying a lot. He’s had women offered to him as sacrifice that have done several things in fear and he can say he truthfully cannot handle it. Also, no threesomes ever. He’s not sharing you. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He’s a healthy combination of both (shocking). Sukuna loves watching you struggle to even take one of his cocks in your mouth nevermind both. But your mouth feels so damn good even though you struggle to get more than the tip past your lips. Sukuna loves to go down on you though, keeping your thighs spread apart so he can eat you as he pleases. Your arousal just tastes so good to him, he can’t get enough and he will not stop until he’s satisfied. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Rough and cruel for the most part. But he can be even meaner when he goes unbearably slow, splitting you open agonizingly with two cocks opposed to one just to see those pretty tears slip down your cheeks as you beg and plead for mercy (mercy he never gives). Sukuna will fuck you stupid with one cock most of the time, that’s his little bit of kindness towards you, but you’ll get fucked twice at least… ya know… gotta get the second cock off too. He’ll give you a choice, get fucked twice with one cock each time or get fucked once with two… mind you it’s never just once even if it’s two cocks at the same time or one each. You’re smart enough to take one cock multiple times unless you want to be bedridden because you can’t walk. Both options have happened to you many times though… so you really can’t tell why he offers you a choice. 
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Sex can take up a whole day when it comes to Sukuna. So, no, he despises quickies. He doesn’t like to be rushed, he doesn’t care if he gets caught, he’ll make people watch. What is there that would really appeal to him??? It seems more annoying than anything really. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He will experiment but only on his own accord. He won’t say it outright but Sukuna is at least a bit mindful of the experiments he does… he doesn’t want to really hurt you or scare you away. So he picks and chooses what he wants to try on you. If there is something very intriguing to him that he worries will make you uncomfortable? He’ll force two other people to play it out while he watches and decides from there… he’s oddly considerate of you in that sense. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
As you saw above… sex can be an all-day process for Sukuna. He can last as long as he wants to… and I mean that seriously. His stamina is infinite, nothing will stop him but himself. He can go multiple rounds until you’re so fucked out you’ve lost count. He can last anywhere from 15-25 minutes per round, he could last much longer but his goal is inevitably to cum so why bother… praying for you honestly. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Toys like we know today don’t exist within his era (the Heian period) and honestly?? Sukuna is a fucking jungle gym in his own right so you really don’t need toys… and even if they did exist and were at his disposal? Sukuna isn’t using them. Why the hell would he rely on a stupid little toy to get you off when he’s more than capable?? He’s not intimidated by them, he just would think they’re absolutely useless… modern day though… if you begged him for a vibrator he would probably cave and get you one. He may even find amusement in it. 
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Sukuna and fair do not belong in the same sentence so it should shock nobody that this man will tease you until you are nearly dry heaving with how hard you’re crying. He will tease you for hours, to the point it feels like genuine torture, before he feels like getting you off. Then, the unfair attitude continues because he will not stop even when you start begging him to. He likes how quickly he can make you regret your words, seeing those pretty fat globs of tears leaking down your cheeks only makes the experience better for him. 
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Sukuna will curse and groan but that’s about it. He won’t try and hide his noises, either, but he will try and make sure he’s not too loud. It’s rare to get a moan, whine, or whimper out of him. Especially since he has such good control over himself. But he will not hesitate to groan about how good his cock is feeling because of you… he has to give you a little something to get you to stick around, ya know? Not that you have a choice… and not that you’d really want to leave him anyways… giving up your luxurious lifestyle and being on the king of curses’ good side isn’t something just anyone can obtain, you know. 
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Sukuna hates your family, ever since you were dropped off to him to be a sacrifice. He doesn’t care about his donors and their sacrifices since all of them are mediocre pieces of shit at best. Though he knows a scumbag like him is not one to talk. But you? You arrived to him nearly beaten to death, half naked, with little to no emotion left in you. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Where was the fun in playing with something that was already half dead. Though, as he was about to kill you, something in your expression moved his icy heart. That truly petrified him but he’d never let anyone know it. He kept you instead of killing you, ordering for the immediate execution of your rotten family instead. He likes to joke that he had the perfect specimen nursed back to health, in his eyes you really were perfect. 
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Sukuna is a tall man… while we don’t know his exact height in true form… he’s been guesstimated to be anywhere from 7.5 feet to 9.8 feet. A tall man is going to have a monstrous cock… or cocks in his case. When he’s soft he’s about 8.5 inches in length, and when he’s hard he’s just over 11 inches. He’s monstrous, girthy and sticks straight out… both of them do. He will hurt… he will make you feel like you’re getting ripped in half and he will often try and fist you to prepare you for him. He cannot fit all the way inside of you, as much as he’d love to, he's not trying to kill you by rupturing your organs. He’s a tan color, one dick is circumcised, the other is not… he was feeling quirky,  and has a deep rosy pink tip… or tips… you know what I mean. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Sukuna has to fuck you at least twice a day, if he doesn’t, he’s extremely irritable. He has at least 5 hours of his day set aside just for you. But really he makes his own schedule so he can do whatever the fuck he wants when he wants to. His sex drive is pretty damn high and he does absolutely nothing to deal with it or hold off. He will get off the moment he wants too. 
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Sukuna prefers falling asleep after you do, which can be pretty instant considering how long he may have been fucking you. So the answer is anywhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes. 
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astrologylunadream · 4 months
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Everything About Your Future Spouse +Traits & Initials 🌹👤💍 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)
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Hi it's Lunadream~ This is my first future spouse reading for you guys, so let me know if you wanna see more readings like this one.❤️ We will learn everything on your future spouse and specific details about them. hope you find your message🥰
Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 This is a general reading for many people! (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)
Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~❤️
Pile 1🌹
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Pile 2🪷
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Pile 3💐
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Pile 4🌷
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Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡
On to the readings —> 💕
Pile 1🌹
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Sign energy: Cold, Darling, Concert, Silence, Provide, Saturn, Aries, 5th house, 4th house, Sun,✔️♒️♋️🫡
🌹All about your future spouse: I kinda felt there would for sure be some successful energy from this pile's future spouse lol. Not necessarily prideful but definitely they know their worth, and I'm typically seeing an entrepreneur/family business thing going on with you two😍🏠💼 I love this couple's energy so much. Idk why but I'm getting some of you may be Aries-Aquarius relationship or Aries-Cancer relationship. They could have Capricorn, Aquarius, Aries, Leo, or Cancer placements in their chart. Omg your spouse will know how to mix work and play so well!! Like one minute they are serious down to business and the next dragging you off to a concert and jamming out with you LOL🤣 You guys may tie the knot sometime in winter. It's in the cards my pile 1's this person WILL PROVIDE.💸💰💍 Like your future spouse will dedicate so much to their family, and they will make a great parent I'm hearing for those who are interested in that😭💗 Omg so like at their work space they are super cold and sooo different from the way they are at home with their spouse/family, at home they are literally so sweet to their partner and love playing with their kids but they DON'T PLAY at work oml like people they work with will have mad respect for your future spouse, I'm kinda getting boss energy so that could be because everyone is under your future spouse or working for them.😎🪜🔝 They show authority to others I'm seeing people greeting your future spouse like saluting to them (maybe they're in high position), bowing to your future spouse, ect. Your future spouse is so soft spoken and sweet with my pile 1's, meanwhile at work they may be more stern or harsh. They don't mind stepping on toes to give everything to their family.🥺💐💞 Ride or die for their family vibes. Seriously you will mean so much to this person, you will be a huge highlight in your future spouse's life. It's so sweet, so loving.🥹❤️
💬Initials: X, F, V, U, R
📍Locations: North america, North, Australia, South, Europe (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)
💼Occupations: Entrepreneur, Public figure, Manager, Business owner, CEO, Finance, Artist, Politician, Media Influencer, Property owner, High status official, Entertainment industry
💌Messages from your future spouse: I can't believe it, I can't look you in the eyes, You left an impression on me, Come to your senses, I'm so tempted (😍) Extra cards: Public image, Connection, Synchrony, Sagittarius, Cupid
Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the red rose emoji~🌹 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💋
Pile 2🪷
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Sign energy: Eyebrows, Decor, February, Train, Siren, Chiron, 11th house, Water, South node, Earth,🦋🍋😰🌁
🌹All about your future spouse: Okay so definitely getting water sign energy with this one. Your future spouse has such adorable traits!!😩💗 They may be born in february so Pisces is likely. Aquarius, Earth or Water placements too. They may work online or have an online business, it's something really clever and innovative I'm hearing. Your future spouse will have a very delicate occupation like it's nothing extreme or dangerous it's actually super simple and successful.😇📨 This may be designing, home related, advertising, ect. I just feel like their job is so sweet idk why. It really suits them and they have such a calm and gentle work space. Your spouse will make money online or that is a source for them💸💻💫 You may connect with them through social media or that is where you first see them. They are intuitive and have exceptional ideas, I feel like they really think out of the ordinary.💡 For some of you this spouse may have a job that requires getting on a train🚆 My pile 2's your future spouse will be unique and very interesting to you.✨️ They will heal your past, like you can depend on them.🫂 Their eyebrows may be a noticeable physical trait of theirs. Your future spouse may live near a bridge or water, also you guys may have a small thing of growing your own fruits or vegetables?? For some of you that may be the case, it's really cute omg.🥺🩷 This will feel like a very healthy relationship for you both, a breath of fresh air. I feel like this person can be whatever you want them to be, like they will change for the better for you.💗 Omg can can we talk about how worried they get over you?? Like if you get injured or they think the slightest thing is bothering you, they will ask you what's wrong and comfort you until you feel better.😢🌧💞 Like they just know. Your future spouse has soft siren vibes imo, not the intense scary kind but the adorable floppy fish vibes idk??😂🤣 They are just there for you whenever you need them💓 This is a really soft and innocent relationship you guys will have. :D
💬Initials: F, Z, L, W, J
📍Locations: U.S.A, Turkey, Hawaii, Indonesia, Australia (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)
💼Occupations: Brand owner, Home design, Online marketing, Architecture, Interior designer, Online business, Editor, Graphic design, Freelance artist, Social media management
💌Messages from your future spouse: I get lost in your eyes, All you have to do is ask, I'll tell them myself, Have you thought of me lately? I think you're a great person (They love my pile 2's vibe😊🩷) Extra cards: Above, Blood, Embrace, Union, Unrequited love
Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the pink lotus emoji~🪷 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! Wish you the best and see you in the next reading💋
Pile 3💐
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Sign energy: Love letter, Wish, Spouse, Chiron, Long, Cancer, Aries, Mercury, 1st house, 3rd house,😭🥲🦇👅
🌹All about your future spouse: Wow interesting my pile 3's your future spouse is so recognizable, you will notice them right away.😍😍❤️ Prominent signs for them are Cancer, Aries, Virgo, and Gemini. They will be so into you from the start lol like serious about you. They will confess many times to ensure they have you, They could have long legs or something long in their appearance, their tongue could be.😶 Anyways they will speak to you first I'm hearing, it will not be hard for them to strike up a conversation with you. You will be shocked by their forward approach, they may be surprisingly honest in the beginning like "let's get this thing straight, I'm into you" kinda thing🤭❤️ But like once you become closer you will see how romantic and loving your future spouse gets with you!! They will compliment you and flirt with you so much, and probably the type to keep telling you they want to marry you.🏠🌹They are witty and romantic as hell. The type to brag about their family with you (if you have one) and tell others how in love with you they are. They will talk up my pile 3's so much.🥺💞 Their job may involve communicating with many people. Your future spouse will help you through things that have been affecting you for a while. You will really want to commit to this person I'm hearing, once they got you.. you won't wanna leave😝 They speak openly about the things they want and leave it out there waiting for you to fulfill them💋 Like saying they want affection without actually asking or telling you they're cold just to see if you'll cuddle them.🥺 This is so sweet, they know all the words to say to make you blush.🗣💌 Your future spouse will know they want to marry you upon first meeting or the early stages of the connection, also for some of you this person has been wishing and hoping to marry you or find you for a long time.⏳️ Once they have you they won't stop telling you how pretty/hot you are😳❤️‍🔥 They are great communicators, like really smooth.😎 Kisses with them will be💋👅 And hugs will be🫂😇 That is all I will say about that🙈 My pile 3's your future spouse will be so caring and doting to you, they will take good care of you guys!!
💬Initials: N, U, X, B, K
📍Locations: Canada, Finland, Peru, Africa, India (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)
💼Occupations: Writer, Poet, Personal trainer, Motivational speaker, Public speaker, An activist of some kind, Family business, Preacher, Blogger, Screenwriter, News reporter, Broadcaster
💌Messages from your future spouse: I can't help myself, Just dance with me, I wish, There's distance between us, So what if we're a thing? Extra cards: Listen, Kitty, Ego, Enchanting, Comment (Yeah they are one with their words💬❤️‍🔥)
Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the flower bouquet emoji~💐 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! Wish you the best and see you in the next reading💋
Pile 4🌷
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Sign energy: Hater, Age, Walk, Leo, 10th house, 7th house, 5th house, Gemini, Moon, Chiron,🧱🦥🔞🦄
🌹All about your future spouse: There is a lot going on with this pile.🤯 Your future spouse is someone very important, on the top of success in their field.🔝💼 They are charismatic and good with all kinds of people, they know how to gain respect🤝 You guys may have a significant age gap with this person, I'm getting they are older than most of you. My pile 4's feel more youthful, that is the vibe I'm getting from you guys. Your future spouse has a masculine energy and approach to things, very dominant feel. I'm getting model/acting/CEO/millionaire/high up official vibes.✨️ Take what resonates but I am seeing not everyone will approve of your relationship with them.😬🚫 For some of you this could be your mom or someone who is protective over you, they may not want you to marry this person. Your future spouse will be very well off in terms of finance💸 I'm getting the vibe they may push you guys away at first, maybe you want to rush into things with them but they don't think you are ready.✋️🤨 They may put their walls up at first, but eventually they will realize you are worthy and successful in their eyes.👑💍 At first your future spouse will come off dismissive of you since they are used to having many admirers that get on their nerves, your future spouse may have issues with gold diggers💰🧲 I'm seeing people tryna put their hands on them and they're just like 🙄 get the fk away. LOL they hate it. Everyone thinks they are one of a kind and want a piece of them, your future spouse will recieve so much attention.👀 Also people will be jealous of you and your spouse like why her/him??😒😤 Your relationship will be sought after by many. Your future spouse may also take walks often, that could be something you two do together.🥰 They will protect and provide for my pile 4's, nothing will get in their way of you guys seriously.🥺❤️ When you two are finally committed things will get spicy aswell❤️‍🔥
💬Initials: W, C, M, T, D
📍Locations: Turkey, Hawaii, Canada, Brazil, Thailand (These can be significant to you or them, or places you meet, travel or live together🥰)
💼Occupations: Public figure, Business owner, Entertainer, CEO, Entrepreneur, Model, Acting, Investor, Marketer, Producer, Fashion industry, Brand ambassador
💌Messages from your future spouse: You're talking nonsense, Smile for me, We might move too fast, You're my addiction, Listen up (Lol they're like listen here pile 4 you belong to them😭👇) Extra cards: Skin, Beach, Compulsive, Beloved, Expand (I'll leave it to you guys imagination on that one😳)
Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❤️
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the tulip emoji~🌷 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! Wish you the best and see you in the next reading💋
Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸
Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3
1K notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 5 months
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Woof woof grrrrrr
Content: Dub-Con, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex (reader giving)
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The bar is exactly as busy as you’re hoping for when you get there. Quiet and intimate, low lights, a hum of conversation but not overwhelmingly loud. The bar is mostly full but not crowded. As luck would have it, you instantly spot a couple empty stools towards the back.
You glide across the establishment, head held high and shoulders back. Pick a seat and smooth your skirt under you to perch. The bartender comes to you instantly; you pick something sweet and fruity (delighted that it’ll match your outfit.)
It takes up until they slide it across to you — a tab opened with your card — that the insecurity starts to set in. What if no one is interested? What if Soap doesn’t show up?
You sip at your drink and pull out your phone, reading your latest book. If nothing else… at least you’re getting out? God.
“This isn’t your usual scene.”
Oh. Oh this is worse than being ignored all night and going home alone. So much worse. Just barely manage not to curse aloud as you turn to your ex.
“Justin…” you start, realize you don’t know where to go from there. “Hi.”
“It’s been a minute, huh?”
You look him up and down. Designer everything, of course, brands printed all over him. No taste, though, none of it is cohesive. You wouldn’t be caught dead at his side ever again.
“How’s your arm?”
His expression flickers, hand unconsciously going to the spot where Johnny tried to tear it off.
“Fine. Thanks.” He gives you a long look. Unfriendly. “You know people have had dogs put down for less.”
You run your tongue over your teeth, fear and anger twisting up in your stomach like hot lava. How dare he threaten your boy like that?! Wish Johnny was here now to take another chunk out of him.
“Not when people trespass on private property,” you reply coldly, eyes narrowing.
He puts his hands up, laughing awkwardly. “Well, now. I wouldn’t call it — let’s just say we’re even, yeah?”
“For that at least.”
You take another big sip of your drink. Find it empty. Make hopeful eye contact with the bartender and nod for another when they gesture questioningly. There’s a reason you love this bar.
“Right… listen, about that, luv…”
“There you are, bonnie!”
You perk up despite yourself. Says something that the creep who sexually harasses you in public is better company than your ex-fiancé. Something zings through you when you realize Soap is bigger than your Justin (hopefully in every aspect). Taller, wider, more muscular. Better jawline and prettier eyes, too.
“Tucked up back here like this,” Soap mock scolds, shouldering past Justin. You let out a little squeak as he scoops you off your barstool, hand just under your ass for a hold. “Almost didn’t see you, hen.”
“H-Hi,” you say, arms going around his neck automatically. He presses his nose to your collarbone and audibly inhales. You shiver.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he continues, voice dropping lower.
He sets you down on your stool again with a wink, then takes the stool next to yours.
“Oi, do you mind?” Justin snaps, bumped out of the way by Soap’s bulk.
“I do, actually.” The look Soap levels him is sharp, cold. Bloody killer. Instantly reminds you of all the alarm bells that normally play in your head when he’s around. “Don’t like puffed up knobs like you around my girl.”
You bite your tongue on a protest that you’re not his girl. Wouldn’t be particularly helpful right about now. You’ll correct him later.
“Your girl,” Justin scoffs. “She was mine before she was ever — hey!”
Soap’s got his fist in the front of Justin’s shirt, jerking him nearly off his feet. A few heads turn. You feel hot with embarrassment, skin prickling at so many eyes on your little trio of stupidity.
“Woah!” You yelp. “Soap!”
You grab his forearm (remind yourself not to get distracted by the muscles cording it) and lean into his line of sight. The near-murderous glint in his blue eyes softens, though there’s still an unnatural sheen to them. Something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand on end.
“Soap, let him go,” you say, quiet. “I like this bar, don’t get us kicked out… please?”
He hums, instantly drops Justin to cup his hand around the back of your neck, fingers edging into your hair. His palm feels so big and harm, a little rough with callouses. You try not to think about how easy it would be for him to manipulate your head however he wants…
“Like when you say ‘please,’ hen,” Soap purrs.
You swallow, feel your cheeks flushing as you say, “Then… you should sit down and have a drink with me. Please?”
He grins, crooked and a little mean. “Anythin’ fer you.”
He drops into his stool again like a king on his throne. You perch gingerly on your own, waving Justin away like an annoying fly. Don’t even look as he slinks off, too busy staring at Soap. Who’s… busy staring at you. As always.
“You never called,” he drawls after ordering. Whiskey, neat. The bartender sets your new drink in front of you; you start sipping to gather your thoughts and nerve. “Lucky I happened to stop in here, eh? Imagine if I’d walked past…”
You grimace a bit. A fantastic bit of luck, that. Thought you’re still not sure what type of luck.
Definitely not going to admit to him that you didn’t call on purpose, wanting plausible deniability if you did see him. As if trying to get him under your skirt by happenstance is better than calling him to do it.
“Why did you stop in here?” You ask, looking to change the subject.
“Could smell you,” he answers, eyes twinkling.
You wrinkle your nose, kick at his shin. Want to blame it on the alcohol, but you drink red wine most nights of the week. This is just… placebo and desperation.
“You’re so nasty, you know that?” You huff.
He arches his eyebrows, grins wolfishly. “Could show you how nasty I can be,” he offers.
You wrinkle your nose even as your cheeks burn. That’s exactly what you’re hoping for.
“You can’t keep talking to me like that,” you complain.
He snorts in amusement, hooking his fingers beneath your stool and tugging you closer. Until your knees are between both of his, jeans brushing against your thighs.
“Here’s the thing, darlin’,” he murmurs, low and private. “I think you like when I talk to you like that.”
You swallow audibly, hands dropping down to twist nervously in your lap.
“I think it makes your pretty pussy all wet and swollen when I get all mean like this,” he continues. You shake your head; his palm clamps down on your thigh beneath your skirt, thumb sweeping back and forth over the sensitive skin. “Think she’s fuckin’ aching fer me to make good on all my promises. And you can get all shy and sweet here, but I bet all your cunt wants is to be mounted and bred like a bitch in heat.”
And he’s right. Of course he’s fucking right. That goddamn bad guy fantasy and your shallow, needy pussy, and Soap’s stupid fucking everything.
You feel like you’re about to explode when the bartender sets his whiskey down, snapping the tension like a rubber band. Feel dizzy as you lean away, sipping desperately at your own drink in an attempt to cool off. He gives you all over maybe fifteen second before opening that sinful mouth again.
“So how about it, bonnie? Did I hit the mark?”
You feel frustrated tears pricking at your eyes. Blink and look away at your nervous hands.
“I-I don’t even know you,” you mutter. “You could be dangerous.”
“I am dangerous, baby,” he replies, “just not to you.”
You shake your head. “You’re awful.”
“Mm and you want me to do awful things to you.”
You sigh through your nose, that little logical voice blaring again. He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to use you.
(Would that be so bad, if you go in knowing it?)
A tug at your necklace startles you out of your thoughts, his finger hooked beneath the pendant. You lean in with a noise of protest, afraid he’s going to break it. Gasp as your lips brush his.
“Whatever’s goin’ on in that pretty head, let me fuck it out of you.”
You shudder, hand balanced on his thick, muscular thigh. Can feel a twitch near your thumb. Holy shit.
“I’ll be so good to you, princess,” he promises. “Let me be good to you.”
You suck in a breath. Now or never.
Well, if nothing else, maybe you’ll let Johnny eat him if he’s turns out to be a bastard.
“Prove it,” you breathe.
He guides your chin up, eyes blazing with hunger.
“Yeah?” He asks.
You blink, muster up your courage. “You heard me. Or are you back out?”
His expression goes deliciously dark. “Oh, I’ll prove it, lass. You just sit right here and I’ll get us sorted.”
His fingers slip just that last little bit up and start teasing at the lace of your panties. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to sip at your cocktail while he flags down the bartender. His nails scrape lightly across the fabric over your clit as gets your card and throws down enough cash to cover all three drinks.
When he pulls his hand away, you have to bite back a whimper.
“If you don’t get up right now, I’m haulin’ you out of here over my shoulder,” he growls in your ear.
You’re up in an instant, smoothing down your skirt. His hand stays glued to your lower back as he ushers you out to the lot. Sits you down in the passenger seat of a black pickup, barely waits for you to buckle yourself in before peeling out of the lot.
You’re about to tell him your address when you hear the clink of a belt, a zipper. Eyes wide as they drop to his pants, to him fishing a huge, hard cock out of jeans.
“C’mere,” he near snarls.
“Soap, that’s not— mph!”
The head of his cock catches on your teeth, but that only seems to spur him on, hips twitching.
“Gonna ruin that pretty makeup, your pretty hair. Gettin’ all dolled up like that for any fucking wanker to see.”
He twists his fingers in your hair and presses you down, your cheek rubbing against the shaft. He feels huge and unnaturally hot. You press your thighs together as you imagine how it’s going to feel inside of you.
“This isn’t safe,” you complain, mouth open as you gasp against the flushed skin.
He curses, tugs you up so that your lips press against the head, already dripping. Your eyes widen in the darkness, shocked and flattered that you’ve already worked him up this much.
“Not gonnae let anything happen,” he promises, “but you need to convince me not to spank this pretty ass black and blue.”
You squeal as he releases you hair just to deliver a harsh smack to one ass cheek, the sting making you clench up.
“H-hey!”
“You want me to slap that pretty pussy too? Bet I could make you cum just tapping that little clit over and over again. That what you want, slag?”
“N-no!”
“Then show me.”
You seal your mouth around the head, sucking and licking at the precum beading at the tip. Try to brace yourself, nearly gag as he hits a pothole and shoves into your throat. It’s noisy and messy, eyes watering from how thick and deep he is already, not letting you up for more than brief gasps of air.
“Fuck, that’s it baby. Work your tongue just like that…” he groans.
You lose track of everything but trying not to gag, his threat lingering with each obscene slurp and twist of your tongue. He tastes better than you expected, and the scent of him surrounds you. Musk and pine, something familiar that niggles at your cock-drunk brain. Can’t be bothered to work it out though, not when he’s tugging your hair. Not when he comes to an abrupt stop and you deepthroat him.
He yanks you off with a near-animal growl. You whine, scrambling to brace yourself and panting. Your head feels foggy. Know your panties are soaked through; shocked you’re not dripping down your leg. If you were sitting properly, you’d probably leave a wet mark on the seat.
You moan as his mouth crashes into yours, tongue sweeping inside like he owns it. He licks the taste of himself off your tongue, hands fumbling your seatbelt off, dragging you over the center console to straddle his lap.
You gasp at the sight of his rock hard, angry cock next to your pretty dress, pressed up against your stomach. Show just how deep he’ll be inside your guts.
“Fuck, look’it that,” he groans rutting against your stomach. “Oh you were made to be mine.”
You scream as he scoops you up, stepping out of the truck with you over his shoulder.
“Soap!” You shout. “Soap, put me down, my dog—”
“I’m your fuckin’ dog,” he replies.
“No, seriously, he’s protective—”
He grabs the spare out of its hiding place and shoves the door open. You brace for angry barking and growls, but hear nothing. Soap doesn’t even pause. He just kicks the door shut and storms down the hall to your room, like he knows exactly where he’s going.
He drops you onto the bed, watches your breasts bounce as you settle on the mattress. He strips off int he blink of any eyes while you’re still catching your breath.
“W-wait, wait, my—”
He flips you onto your stomach, hikes your ass up high in the air. You squirm, try to crawl away, but he slaps your ass so hard you see stars. He places his palm flat between your shoulder blades to bin you still.
“S-Soap,” you whine as he shoves your skirt up over your ass, palms a cheek. Spreads you open just to let the flesh jiggle back into place.
“Fuck,” he growls. It sounds off. Sounds deeper, rougher now.
“Just-just slow down…!”
He yanks your panties aside, plunges two thick fingers into you. You squeal, legs kicking uselessly against the mattress.
“Oh, you’re plenty ready,” he says, dark, almost to himself. “All ready to be mated and bred. All mine.”
That finally starts to break the lust-drunk haze. Open your mouth to tell him absolutely not, it’s been way to long and your need to be stretched—
He forces his entire cock into you with one brutal thrust. You scream, cry, try to flatten yourself against the bed but he won’t even let you do that, muttering about “presenting” properly. It hurts but it feels good, know that’s it’s just too much.
“Soap,” you sob, “y-you can’t— you have to… I’m-I’m gonna break.”
“Shhhh, no you’re not,” he soothes, grinding a bit deeper. Your eyes roll back, keening through your teeth. “You were made for me. You’re all for me.”
You shake your head, but he just chuckles.
“Yes, baby, yes. You let me in, you kept me. Now we belong to each other.”
“Soap, w-what are you talking about…?” you manage, fists tight in the sheets. He draws back once and slams into you, hard, mean.
Leans down so he’s rumbling directly in your ear.“‘S Johnny, hen.”
You blink, confused and overwhelmed. “W-what… n-no. No, Johnny is my….”
“Woof.”
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nerdpoe · 8 months
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Jack and Maddie Fenton die. They do not realize this.
To be fair, neither does anyone else at first.
Then they do.
And the Fentons themselves, leading experts in saying ghosts aren't sentient, become the single most valued evidence that they fucking are.
Through the Drs. Fenton, they manage to insure rights for ecto-entities, and the anti-ecto acts are repealed.
That's all well and good, but the big problem is...what to do with their kids?
The Drs. Fenton are currently buried in their obsession of science, Maddie's aunt is currently fighting the government to keep her property, and the kids' other closest relative is in Bludhaven.
So the State of Illinois sends a letter to one Dick Grayson, asking if he's cool to look after Danny and Jazz until the Unites States and an entirely different dimension work out custody and how, exactly, immigration law applies and where it does.
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doggiewoggiez · 7 months
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TEXAS TRANSFEMS GETTING KICKED OUT
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THIS IS THE BIG ONE LADIES AND GENTS
Well, as soon as we got back on our feet enough to be able to make rent, we're losing our home. We have to move on short notice (short in the scale of the rental application process). I have like eight dollars in my bank account. We're gonna have uhauls to rent, security deposits to make, application fees to pay (for the 4 of us, applying to any property costs $200-400 and we don't even know if we'll get approved). I called the property manager probably half a dozen times trying to see if we can work something out, but... Nope.
We're totally fucked unless we can get your help. Please, if there's anything, anything at all you can do to help, please please do. There's a couple places we're looking at that seem like they might be solid bets, but no matter what we're looking down the barrel of thousands of dollars we don't have and many days of work missed. Please share this, we're in more danger than we've ever been in before.
If there's anything you can spare, please... We're boned otherwise.
PayPal / Ko-fi / $app
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