ahhh!!!
ur little post abt father!remus hasnt left my mind like at all ughh
honestly, I can't handle the trope of innocent!girl + big-tough-corrupting!man (neg) BUT SEEING THE ART OF FATHER!REM
It made me think of knockout!reader who moved away after finishing their catholic highschool and when they visit the church Remus works at and he's just 😧😯🫢🤭 and they start becoming friends again, remus's unshakable infatuation w reader (which never rlly went away) just got a hundred times stronger and he's literally struggling to form a coherent thought and get it out his mouth.
I feel like r even plays into it a little, not any further than they think is fair to Remus, but just enough to enjoy the flushed cheeks and very unbecoming snorts. n then after a deep convo when Rem mentions his strained beliefs, to lighten the mood, reader jokingly (NOT) says "well, if you'd like a career change, I'd be more than happy to break your celibacy streak." or something bold like that and dhsuskakiejf
This isn't coherent at ALL
Ah babe! You got me all wrong, my Priest Remus is not going to be the innocent!girl + big-tough-corrupting!man trope, is actually the other way around.
Reader is going to be the one corrupting Priest!Rem.
I love the more innocent turn you've given to the story, and I might write something like this later but I've got this idea of reader using the confessionary" to say some pretty lewd stuff to the Priest that I cannot shake out of my head.
She's going to quite literally seduce him into breaking that celibacy streak.
So yeah, when I said corruption arc, I meant reader is the one going to be corrupting...
(But also I AM thinking of writing another one with Priest!Sirius corrupting a innocent!reader cause I feel like it SOOO would be his thing)
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The Roach: Princeling looks very sick. How hard were you tortured?
Cardan: *has covering his blushing face with his hands for the last fifteen minutes* Very, very hard
The Bomb: *giggling* Oh yes, hard indeed
The Ghost: *whispering* We're placing bets
The Roach: *whispering* Of course we are
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I’M BACK BITCHES! I was out of state for the weekend visiting my husbands aunt and uncle. Had a blast. Got a break from the kids since Aunt and Uncle basically stole the kids as soon as we got there, spoiling them relentlessly. Pretty sure our Uncle would have kept the kids if we let him haha (They have 3 kids, all boys, all GROWN, so they were enjoying having our 5 year old daughter and 2 year old son around)
And now I’m back to writing! That Peter/001 x Innocent!Nurse!Reader smut is being worked on as we speak!
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succession has always been genre-defying and convention breaking, but killing the main character 15 minutes into only the 3rd episode of the season throws all television convention out the window
which is not only a bold choice, but it’s what makes the episode so effective. almost everyone watching has said they experienced a prolonged disbelief. there’s no way. no way. and it’s not just the denial that comes with loss and death, but denial because this isn’t when you kill a character, this isn’t how you kill a character. it flies in the face of everything we know about storytelling convention. we don’t believe it. is tom joking. is logan manipulating them. where’s the body, we need to see the body. is he going to make a miraculous recovery at the end of the episode?
and like the denial and the slow-dawning horror of realization that the kids are experiencing, we the audience experience it too. not as spectators, but as participants. because we had the rug pulled out from our Audience Expectations, just as the kids had the rug pulled out from them by The Random Suddenness of Tragedy.
if this had been the cliffhanger at the end of an episode or a season finale—the times when you’re Allowed to kill a main character—we would have only been spectators. but by tipping storytelling convention on its head and breaking all the rules, they brought us along on that same journey of denial and disbelief. the same impossibility of it. the same confused “wait, like this?”
it took logan’s death outside the bounds of storytelling and the safety of well-known plot beats. instead, it made us sit with the uncertainty and denial and confusion and raw grief of the random mundanity of death.
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today I woke up at five in the morning
my alarm clock is russian ballistic missiles
and then more missiles. and more. and shahed drones after that.
I know you most likely won't see it on the news in your country. But despite the low media coverage, Ukraine needs you now more than ever. Now that we receive no military aid from the US. Every penny counts. Please, if you have any funds to spare, consider donating to one of the Ukrainian non-profits listed here.
Thank you.
The attacks continues still, but we're alive so everything will be alright.
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|| i have nothing to say for myself other than toei has a thing for Law's hands and so do I
[!]: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.
[Heads up!: fingering (reader recieving), edging, overstim, afab/fem aligned reader, termed genitals]
"Like my hands that much, do you?" Law's voice is low in your ear, as sultry as you've ever heard it and more than a little cocky. As he should be, given that the fingers you'd been eyeing not so subtly earlier are currently between your legs.
Thumb at your clit, e and a sink into your slick warmth, making you whine as he works them within you. Sharp gold eyes remain trained on your facial expressions, studying what makes your face contort with pleasure and the prettiest noises slip from your lips.
The noise of his fingers pumping in and out of you is enough to make your face burn, much less the intensity to this act as a whole ㅡ Law intends to take you apart to the very core of your being, and you'll let him.
The press of his thumb to the swollen bundle of nerves rips a stuttered cry from your lips as he works it in tight circles, coupling it with the slow scissor of his fingers.
"Is that all it takes?" Even your ears burn at his teasing, the slowing of his ministrations making you whine. It's like a game to him, the seesaw taunt of your orgasm so close, yet so far away as he makes you toe that razor thin line.
Your breathing is shallow as he almost stills his hand, lets the heat lower to a simmer before he picks his rhythm back up, watches as pleasure ignites in your veins once more.
Your thighs tremble around his hand, and you're sure you've already soaked it for how badly you ache with want ㅡ and he still won't give it to you. Or perhaps he will this time as you edge further and further, and this time, he doesn't stop when you start tensing around his fingers.
Law watches you cum around his fingers with an almost clinical contemplation, ruined for the blown quality of his pupils as he follows the jerk of your hips, the incomprehensible babble that tumbles from your lips.
He kisses your temple as he lets you come down, and you expect him to pull his fingers from you and move to clean you up, or continue this another way ㅡ but he doesn't. His eyes gleam as he begins moving his fingers again, and you whimper at his touch.
"Come on," he soothes softly, voice silky against your frazzled nerves, "you can give me another, can't you?"
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