#stories Tumblr posts

  • La paciencia es una de las formas más nobles que tiene el amor.

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  • I’ve got too many stories. I don’t have the brain space for all of it anymore.

    Anyone want to talk me through stuff/help me character build?

    It’s SPN stories

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  • Part one

    click for part 2 (coming soon)

    She was sitting on the couch, looking like a normal mortal, but something about her, maybe the way she looked at me with the knowledge of thousands and thousand years, made it simple to understand that she was anything but human.

    Mortals called her lot of names, but the two that remained popular until these days were Venus and Aphrodite. Venus and Aphrodite, two powerful names for the Goddess who was sitting on my couch, who was looking at me with a knowing yet gentle smile. How did I know it was her? I don’t know, it just felt it right to assume it was her.

    I couldn’t remember why she was there, did I call her? Was there anything she knew that I didn’t? Of course there was, and maybe, it was the reason behind her being there.

    But I didn’t have the time to think of more questions because she spoke to me: “Don’t you remember? You called me, quite persistently. I don’t usually come down here, for a simple mortal, but there is something familiar about you…”

    Something familiar? Weird, very weird. I spent my whole life reading myths, yes, but being familiar to a Goddess? That wasn’t something I expected from myself, of course. I didn’t even write poetry about her, the closest thing that I could think of was me reading Sappho poem but that didn’t explain her being here, or me calling her and not remembering it.

    “I am sorry, my Lady, there must be some mistake…” I gulped, taking a deep breath and trying to formulate a sentence that wouldn’t offend her. “I don’t remember calling you and I quite certainly don’t know how I can be familiar to you.”

    She chuckled, as if I told her some mildly funny joke, and then patted the spot near her, making me realize that I was still standing there. “Take a sit, don’t be shy.” I followed her ‘order’ and sat next to her, wanting to know what she was going to tell me next. “We don’t make mistakes about such things, but if you don’t remember calling me, then I shall refresh your memory. We will understand why you are familiar to me later; I think that the reason why you called me is more important than that one.”

    I nodded, trying to not make a sound; it seemed something rather important if she decided to answer to my call. “For you humans it had passed three days since you called me. You were quite drunk, maybe this is why you don’t remember, and you started calling me and just crying about how the love of your life left you, quite miserable. And how you don’t want to end up like your father, loving a woman that treats you like shit, only because you are human and you need love. You wanted me to help you, to make her realize that she loved you but you also…”

    “Didn’t want to force her” I continued with a sad smile. I still didn’t remember the episode but they were feelings I had for so long and I knew that even if I did ask Aphrodite to do all that stuff, there would’ve still been a part of me that didn’t want to force her.

    “So you remember?” Aphrodite asked me, I shook my head and sighed, trying to understand what I was supposed to do now that she was there.

    “So, now you are here, even though I did tell you that I didn’t want to force her…”

    “You are right. But I am not here to make your wish come true, you need to understand that a part of you will be satisfied though. I won’t force her.”

    “Then why are you here, my Lady?” I asked her, obviously confused. If she wasn’t here to make it come true, to make my ex come back to me, then why was she here? It made no sense.

    “Because I can’t let you suffer, not after what I discovered about you. You will forget her, sooner or later, you humans tend to do that, and one day, when you will least expect it, you will find her again. Both will be changed, of course. Probably you won’t understand it is her, until she introduces herself, again. So have no fear, my child, you will be freed from the pain soon enough and all that would only seem like a bad dream.”

    I tried to focus on what she was saying; it made no sense, meeting her again? How was I supposed to forget her now that I knew that? It was like promising chocolate to a child and then telling them to forget about it until it was their birthday… It made no sense. Plus, what she meant with ‘not after what I discovered about you’? What did she know? What did she find out about me? “What? What did you find out about me?” I couldn’t help but ask, this whole thing didn’t even try to have any sense anymore.

    She looked at me like she was looking at a child, and maybe, in comparison to her I was really a child. “There are rules that must be followed even by Gods. The fate for example, we can’t change that, I tried, few times, but even Gods have little to no power with the fate, the life and death of a person. Yes, there are things we can change in someone life, if granted to us, but there many things that we can’t change and you mustn’t know the whole truth about it. Yet, one thing I can tell you, yes, this wasn’t the first time we talked. Centuries ago you called me for the same woman, I was something else for you at the time, not only a Goddess. History tends to repeat itself in ways we don’t always understand…” And with that, she disappeared, leaving me with more questions than answers.

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  • writing a sapphic story rn !!

    #sapphic#lesbian#bisexual#stories #i cant write for shit but oh well
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  • Take a look at the octopus hunters of Mozambique who wear Mussiro face masks to protect their skin from the sun. Similar to clay masks, Mussiro serves as a means for beautification and helps to keep the skin smooth.

    “Hunter” (2019) by Bruno Pedro
    Ibo Island (of the Quirimbas Islands), Mozambique

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  • like if you save/use, please ♡

    #madelaine petsch #icons madelaine petsch #madelaine petsch icons #icons #icon madelaine petsch #madelaine petsch icon #stories#personal#raissa
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  • It was a photo that HE sent me. I’ve just realised how many things have changed ever since and the first one is WE DON’T TEXT ANYMORE

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  • to preface this, i have a stuffed animal named Sparkie that i used to carry EVERYWHERE, and she’s big, and fairly heavy.

    okay, so this was back in elementary school. it was recess, and instead of running around, i was laid on my stomach on a bench drawing, with Sparkie next to me. suddenly there was this huge gust of wind that was kicking sand around, so i closed my eyes to keep sand out of them, and pinned my drawing to the bench so it wouldn’t blow away (this was before i had a sketchbook, so i just used printer paper). eventually the wind died down, and I was about to get back to drawing when i heard one of my classmates scream


    I looked up, and Sparkie was in mid air, in the middle of a tiny tornado. i jumped up and started chasing the twister, along with a few of my classmates. we made it most of the way across the field before one of my classmates finally caught up to the tornado and jumped up to grab Sparkie (the tornado wasn’t strong enough to pick up kids).

    i slowed down to a walk, completely out of breath, and my classmate handed Sparkie back to me. we watched as the tornado went over the fence, and out of school grounds.

    i ended up forgetting my pencils and paper in all the excitement, and had to leave class to go get them before they got stolen.

    and that was the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me

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  • Hot day, hot room, air con on the fritz, no HVAC guys on callout, statewide lockdown, nothing open. Too hot to work, too hot to sleep, the only thing you could do was wait until the sun dropped far enough to let the bricks and asphalt start cooling. Ash was on her belly, sprawled on her bed, sweating through her sheets.

    It didn’t matter that the windows open, the air was syrup and no breeze stirred it. It couldn’t even air out the room’s musty smell: stale sweat, fresh sweat, beer, anal sex, unwashed socks and fried pork. Ash stared at the TV without watching it.

    The sound of sloshing and clinking coming up the stairs was music to her. Charlie walked into the bedroom lugging a galvanized steel bucket filled to the brim with ice and bottles. His boxer briefs clung to his slim hips, translucent white from sweat. The briefs were the only clothes he wore, though he was still dressed modestly compared to Ash, who was entirely nude.

    He set down the bucket in front of her, wiped a sweaty lock of hair off his forehead. “Took a while, to,” he gesticulated, “Bucket. Sorry. To get the, uh, drinks.” His speech was disjointed, almost slurring his words.

    “Shush kiddo, you’re one in a million.” She pulled two bottles from the bucket, a beer for her, and a frou-frou hard cider for Charlie. They both took a long drink. Cold, refreshing, it blunted the heat in the same way that a bulletproof vest blunts a 9mm round: it doesn’t go through you, but it still knocks you down.

    It was still too hot to think. Ash grabbed an ice cube from the bucket and rubbed it on her forehead, cold water dripping down her face. She took another one and stuffed it under her armpit, sighing blissfully. It melted to nothing in seconds, but it cooled her down.

    Charlie sat down on the bed. “It’s hot, huh?”

    “Eat my ass.”

    He flinched, looking hurt. “I was just making conversation, you don’t need to be rude.”

    “Huh? No, that was a request: please can you get behind me and eat my ass.”

    “Oh! Sure.” He paused. “Won’t that like, just make everything hotter though?”

    She grinned. “I got an idea. C'mere, open your mouth.”

    “Why? What—glhmph!

    She stuffed a handful of ice cubes into his mouth. "Ith cowb!” he cried.

    “I know. So go eat my ass.”

    He pouted—though that may have just been the ice cubes—and got into position, laying on his belly between her legs. She stuffed two pillows under her hips, raising her ass in the air so that Charlie could watch the TV while he worked. He spread her cheeks and dug in.

    His tongue felt delightfully cool on her hole, water trickling out of his mouth, running down onto her balls. Ash loved having her ass eaten, so he’d been getting a lot of practice at her request, though her “request” usually took the form of pushing him to his knees, grabbing his hair, and forcing his face between her cheeks. It had been a wise investment of effort in her mind, and Charlie hadn’t complained too much.

    Ash groaned softly and took another pull of beer, losing herself in the sensation. Usually Charlie would dig in and tongue fuck her like he was trying to stretch her out, but the mouthful of ice forced a slower pace, cautious, kissing it, making out with her hole.

    He’s such a good little ass licker, Ash thought. One day she might return the favor.


    Charlie set his dusting cloth aside and stretched his arms. A taped-up cardboard box caught his attention. “Hey, what’s in here?”

    “Where now?”

    “The big cardboard box in the closet.”

    “That thing? That’s from the move, I haven’t unpacked it yet.”

    “Ah, okay.” He looked back at the box. Then, he turned around. “Ash, you’ve lived here for five years.


    Physical security was a strange industry to work in during the pandemic. A lot of old jobs fell through with the lockdown, and a lot of new jobs cropped up. Some empty buildings no longer needed securing, others suddenly needed to be secured, and there were profits in unsecuring a certain few of them. On balance though it left Ash with more spare time than usual, and spare time meant practice time.

    She worked through the Master loop: twenty cheap padlocks clasped onto a bicycle U-lock. She picked by feel with her eyes closed, in with the rake and wrench, snapping all but a few open in a matter of seconds, bypassing the few that weren’t so easily raked. 

    She grinned as the last lock clicked open, and opened her eyes to see Charlie standing next to her, a cup of coffee in his hand. He set it down on the workbench in front of her.

    “How long have you been standing there?”

    “Forty seconds.” He shrugged. “Give or take.”

    “Jesus. Now you see why I keep getting you to tag along as a lookout, huh?”

    “You just like the company.”

    She looked at the coffee. “That for me?”

    “Of course.” He smiled.

    She took a sip. Good French press stuff. He’d figured out pretty quickly how she liked her coffee, and was happy to wait on her while she practiced picking.

    She grinned at him. “Got anything else for me, kiddo?”

    He blushed. Oh, how he blushed. “Of course.”

    It hadn’t been her intent for him to wait on her; she’d intended to pimp him out. Lockdown nixed those plans, at least for the time being, and in the meantime he’d appointed himself as her live-in maid. The house was the cleanest it had been since she’d moved in. He cleaned, he cooked, he waited, he served.

    She put an arm around his waist, pulled him close, and kissed him. He was a meek kisser, when he was sober at least. Ash found it cute. She broke the kiss, placed her hand atop his head and pressed down with light force, like depressing the filter on a French press, until he was on his hands and knees. He crawled under the workbench, on all fours on the foam yoga mat she’d glued into place shortly after he’d arrived.

    Ash felt slender hands on her belt and zipper, spreading her thighs to allow him access. It was a warm day, and her half-hard cock was sticky with sweat. She could hear Charlie licking his lips as he took it into his hands. She relaxed, stretched her neck, and picked up another padlock as he sucked on the tip of her cock like a pacifier.

    It was a challenge lock, one that she’d been working on intermittently for a few weeks. Six pins, a narrow and angular keyway, and some unusual-feeling security pins. She set it into the vice, took her thinnest hook and tension wrench, and began to probe. After a few minutes, it felt like she was making progress: no false sets from pin three this time. Charlie worked as she worked, holding onto her thighs, pushing his head forward onto her now-stiff cock, gagging sloppily as he took her into his throat.

    She got closer, it got close, then… nothing. The same reset on pin 5 she’d ran up against last time. She exhaled, set down her tools, and stretched out her wrists and fingers. Charlie was still sucking dutifully, though she’d gone limp in his mouth. It was more from the pressure in her bladder than her frustration with the lock.

    She took another sip of coffee, now lukewarm, and peeked under the desk. “Heads up,” she said.


    She leaned back and relaxed. Piss flowed into Charlie’s mouth, his throat working furiously to swallow it all, hot and musky and salty, in a torrent she’d clearly been holding in for a while. 

    It used to be that she’d need to give it to him in single mouthfuls, give him time to gulp it down, but now it barely fazed him. The flood became a trickle, and then became short, fast spurts, and he sucked the last few sprays out until she was drained dry. She ruffled his hair as he kissed the tip of her cock, and then picked up a different lock. She felt him kissing and licking her balls as she fed her pick into the keyway. 

    It wasn’t half bad, having a maid during quarantine.


    “I get that there’s a pandemic so we’ve gotta wear face masks when we go outside.”


    “Yeah, I get that. And I get that you run into shady characters and you don’t want me saying anything I shouldn’t in front of them.”


    “I understand that. And I understand that just to make completely sure I don’t say anything, you keep me gagged under the mask.”


    “I know that. And I know that you don’t have a real ball gag, so I get that you’d stuff a balled-up sock in my mouth and tape over it with duct tape.”


    “But do you really have to cum into the sock first?”

    “Less talking more stroking, kiddo, I wanna be out of here by ten.”


    “You still awake down there?”

    “Mhm-hmm…” A sleepy, dopey smile crossed his face. He attempted a nod, and gave up halfway through.

    Ash couldn’t blame him. She gave a damned good massage, after all. She switched from running her oiled-up hands over his shoulders to cutting biscuits on his back. He all but melted.

    “You got a sports injury or something?”

    “No,” he said, faintly.

    “How are you always this tense first thing in the morning?”

    His smile faded. For a moment, he said nothing.

    “Bad dreams,” he said.

    “Shit, kiddo. Lemme help you unwind, then,” she said, working her way up to his neck. “Later on I’ll show you the free weights, we’ll see if you can get some muscles worth massaging.”

    Charlie giggled, and relaxed under her ministrations. It wasn’t all bad, living with a big buff locksmith lady.


    “I don’t see the point of this,” Charlie said, though he twirled obligingly in any case. The camera flashed and a staccato cascade of clicks took a picture at every degree of his turn.

    “It’s easier finding clients when you’ve posted some pics to show off what’s for sale.”

    “Yeah I get that. Why am I wearing a tartan miniskirt and tied-up white shirt though? Why not just regular hooking clothes?”

    “Because we don’t know when this pandemic will end, so we might as well get a variety of pictures and drum up some enthusiasm online. Since it’s online I figured I’d dress you up like that meme, Twink Tilted Kilt.”

    “What the hell is Twink Tilted Kilt?” he asked, lifting up his skirt and revealing the heart-dotted white panties underneath. More camera clicks.

    “It’s Tilted Kilt, but all the waitresses are cute twinks instead of busty women.”

    “What the hell is Tilted Kilt?”

    “Huh? It’s the bar.”


    “Loads of places. It’s a chain. You’ve never been to a Tilted Kilt?”

    “I don’t go to bars. I’m nineteen!”

    “Oh yeah. Whatever, I’ll get you a fake ID when lockdown is over, you’ll get a kick out of it. Be a sweetheart and pose with that pitcher of beer, be slutty about it.”

    “Sure.” He picked up the glass pitcher and held it lovingly. “Should I spill a little down my top?”

    “That’s the spirit, kiddo,” said Ash, grinning. “Maybe we should set you up with an OnlyFans…”


    Ash got home just after four PM. Groceries went onto the kitchen counter, mask and top into the laundry hamper, twenty-second hand wash, twenty second face wash, same routine she’d kept since the pandemic hit the state. At least hand soap was back on shelves now.

    She found Charlie spread out on the couch, reading, laying on his belly in a tank top and a pleated skirt. The coffee table was unusually clean. The only things on it were two more books, a notepad and pen, and a glass of water with a slice of lemon. 

    “Hey,” he said, not looking away from his book.

    “Hey,” Ash replied, stretching her arms, “I stopped at the Polish grocery on the way back from the job, I got a load of good pickles and some kielbasa for grilling.” She looked around. “You’ve vacuumed.”


    “Thanks, it looks good. Oh yeah, I also grabbed a bulk bottle of moisturizer since we’re going through it so fast—hey, you’ve tidied up in here too.”

    “Yep,” he chirped.

    Ash said nothing for a second, and then said, “The kitchen’s clean, did you mop that too?”


    “Did you wipe down the sides?”


    “Oh, thanks. It’ll be easier cooking tonight…” she trailed off. “It smells kinda—”

    “I used air freshener. You had a can under the sink, still sealed.”

    “Ah, cool. You’ve been busy huh?”

    Charlie shrugged.

    “Hah, I suppose you’ve scrubbed the limescale off the toilet—”

    “Right after you left, the shower too.”

    “Wow, uh, thanks.” Ash looked down at the coffee table. It was uncharacteristically shiny. She wiped it with her finger, walked over to a cabinet, and wiped the top of that too. “Did you fuckin’ dust in here?”

    “I did that last night.”


    “When you were playing Dark Souls for like two hours,” Charlie replied, still buried in the book. “I wasn’t just fetching you beers the whole time.”

    “Jesus kid, anything you haven’t cleaned up?" 

    "Your room." 

    "Hey, it’s our room.”

    “Your room,” Charlie muttered.

    She laughed. “Well aren’t you a good little housewife? I’m impressed. I thought you’d be some kind of dirtbag slob, and you’ve all but ironed my shirts and cooked dinner for me.”

    “You don’t own any shirts and I made you a grilled chicken salad. It’s in the refrigerator, for when you’ve finished working out.”

    Ash blinked. She leaned over and ruffled his hair. “You know you don’t need to do all this, right?” she said. “I know I said you’d have to earn money and do a few tricks, but that was before the pandemic. I’m not going to kick you out for not being my live-in maid. Like, we should probably just set up a chore rota or something…”

    Charlie looked up from his book for the first time. “You’ve told me that, and I’m very grateful for it. I’m lucky that you took me in. But still, I like to feel useful.”

    “Huh.” She looked over the books he was reading. The two on the table were about locks, the one he’s holding was about burglar alarms. “That’s a dry-ass textbook of mine.”


    “You getting a lot out of it?”


    “You’re being pretty curt today. You teasing me?" 

    He blushed. There was a pause before he said, "Nope." 

    "You sure about that?" 


    Ash grinned, leaning down close to him, running her fingers through his hair. “Is the lockdown getting to you?”

    He said nothing, staring at the page.

    “You feeling kinda confined?" 

    He said nothing and blushed even harder. 


    He shook his head, he bit his lip, his eyes unfocused, not even pretending to read his book.

    "Maybe… pent up?”

    Very quietly he said, “A little.”

    Ash reached down and flipped up his skirt. His thighs parted, revealing his ass, his chastity cage, and the puddle of precum underneath it. She touched the puddle, her fingers came up dripping.

    “Look at this,” she said, bringing them round to his face. Before she could continue, he darted forward and took them into his mouth, moaning as he sucked them clean.

    “You’re fucking needy.”


    "Tell me what you need." 

    "I need to get fucked.”

    “You’ve been backing your ass up against me three nights running when I’ve been trying to sleep,” she said, grinning down at him. “Is this what that was about?”


    “You could have asked and I’d have given it to you." 

    "That’s slutty!" 

    "That’s slutty? No, this is slutty.” She slapped his ass, ran her fingers between his cheeks, and wormed her middle finger into his hole, eliciting a moan. “Wait, did you already lube up?”


    “That’s real fucking slutty.”

    She made room for herself on the couch by scooping him up in her arms and sitting him down on her lap. By the time he realized which way was up, he was already kissing her. One hand sank into her breast, and his other hand reached between the cushions. He pulled out a bottle and pressed it into Ash’s hand.

    “You had the lube ready and waiting huh?”

    He didn’t respond other than by burying his head in her neck and peppering her with kisses. She unzipped her pants, feeling a little giddy as she lubed herself up. She still felt giddy whenever she fucked him. She’d expected it would fade, but it hadn’t yet.

    He tensed up as her cock pressed into him and went limp in her arms as the head slipped inside. Moments later he was riding her, and it only took a few enthusiastic bounces before she was balls-deep inside him.

    “Oh ffuck, you don’t know how bad I needed this…" 

    She bit his nipple and sucked it, he shuddered and shook, still bouncing up and down like a champion sorority sister, his cock dripping precum over her navel. She fucked him like this until his legs gave out, rolled him over and pinned him to the couch, and fucked him like that for another twenty minutes. By the time he came he was so blissed out that he barely noticed Ash pulling out of him, straddling his chest, and splattering his face with her cum.


    "Quit grimacing you big baby”

    “It hurts.

    “It’s stretching, it’s supposed to hurt.”

    “I’m plenty stretchy already!”

    “I told you, any good hooker needs to be able to get out of handcuffs. That means you might need access to tools you have hidden on your person that aren’t accessible with your hands behind your back, which means you need to be able to bring your hands under your legs and in front of you,” said Ash, a hint of impatience creeping into her voice, “And if you’re flexible enough to suck yourself off, you’re flexible enough to do that.”

    She had Charlie rolled up on a yoga mat with his legs over his head, his ass in the air, his weight on his shoulders and the back of his neck, and his cock pointing down at his face. Her hands were on his butt, cautiously but firmly pushing down, inching his cock ever-closer to his mouth.

    “I’ve been stretchy enough to get my hands out in front of me for two weeks!”

    “It took you three minutes and eighteen teddy-bear rolls around the room to do it, try pulling that shit off in the trunk of a Ford Focus.”

    “You just want to see me suck myself off, you big perv.”

    “Yeah, what of it? I could’ve left you in your chastity cage for this, that’d be a lot harder and a lot less fun.” She took a finger, licked it, and started rubbing it on his asshole. “Besides, I think you’re starting to enjoy this. Look how stiff that little thing is.”

    He whined. He was hard, he had to give her that. 

    She looked sternly at him. “We can do this stretch for ten minutes, or you can lick the tip and end it much sooner.”

    Ahhm tying!” he said, sticking his tongue out. He still couldn’t reach it, half an inch of space between tip and tongue.

    “Lemme help you there,” said Ash, sinking her middle finger knuckle-deep into his asshole.

    A shudder ran through his body, muscles stretched and relaxed in ways he didn’t think possible, and the tip of his cock touched his lips. Everything felt sore, but he’d done it.

    “Hey, impressive! I didn’t think you’d get there for another few days. Give me another few licks just to prove it wasn’t a fluke.”

    He growled, and the growl turned into a whine as she sunk her finger in one knuckle deeper. Ash’s chest swelled with pride as she watched her earnest student meekly lap at the tip of his own cock. She couldn’t wait to make him eat his own cum tomorrow…

    #Stories #Ash & Charlie #seasonal work
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  • #Lori Gottlieb #maybe you should talk to someone #terry real#internalized #family of origin #therapy#psychology #corrective emotional experience #stories
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