#/ this was... gonna be shorter... but I think

[pork-pop]

DON’T MAKE ME BEG FOR YOU!

✧ the girl of his dreams is throwing him a bone…is he feigning nonchalance or acting a fool?!

contains: gojo, geto, nanami || cw: p in v sex (unprotected), oral (f. receiving), like a hint of hair pulling for suguru, mentions of masturbation || wc: 1.7k~

✧ a/n: i am half asleep right now if there’s a typo just come to my home and take me out before i wake up! cheers. srry nanami’s ended up kinda shorter than the others oopsie daisy.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!

SATORU GOJO

acting a fool is an understatement

Satoru is terrible at the art of subtlety, and to most, making one’s intentions blatantly clear to the person they’re interested in might seem mortifying. But that’s been Satoru’s goal since the start. Those lingering touches, the flirtatious glances and suggestive comments were all done in stride, after all, he takes pride in the fact that he’s getting what he wants. You, however, have been the hardest shell to crack. So, naturally, he’s utterly whipped. 

He can hardly believe his luck when you choose to reciprocate after months of cat and mouse, and he has no choice but to lay out all of his chips and double down. 

For someone who was raised to be a gentleman, he sure does know how to get your clothes on the floor without any manners at all. As soon as you’re blessing him, deepening the kiss, his wandering hands are tugging at your blouse for permission to show you how much he’ll work for it. 

“Isn’t this a treat?” He pants humorously between thrusts, fucking into you like he’ll know he’ll find the answers to all of his intrusive questions regarding you if he just gets an inch or two deeper. Satoru hisses as you tighten around him, “You gonna keep talking or are you gonna fuck me harder?” you snicker. And you should know that there’s nothing Satoru loves more than a good challenge; getting you like this wasn’t the challenge he’d most anticipated, no, it was making you crave it just as much as he did. 

“Is that an invitation?” He asks, a big grin twisting at the corners of his lips while he inches a hand down to thumb teasingly at your clit, “You know, I’ve been thinking about you saying that for a while now, don’t you?” In spite of his stamina, Satoru’s breath is ragged and shaky, could it be that he was even a bit…nervous? You didn’t have the time to put much thought into it before his hips speed up, knocking every one of those pretty suspicions out of your head for the time being. Your eyes roll back and you swear you can hear a triumphant little huff of a laugh from him as he takes that as inspiration to roughen the circles he’s drawing against your clit. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you’d sound like when you cum, too,” he admits without a shred of shame, nosing into the tender column of your throat so you can hear him better, “Can I hear?” “Fuck!” Is all you can manage through a strangled cry, clawing at the shifting muscles of his back in a futile attempt to ground yourself. “C’mon, I can tell you’re getting close,” he rasps madly, “I wanna hear you.” He begs, suddenly licking a greedy stripe along the dampened skin of your neck. 

And who are you to deny him? You cry out a declaration of your sudden orgasm, features squeezed and mouth parted as you struggle to catch your breath. Satoru stares at you with widened eyes, and a stuttered breath, “Hah-...” He hadn’t even realized how close he’d been getting to spilling inside you, but welcomed the overwhelming feeling with open arms. He could go for five more rounds if you’d let him, anyways. 

God, this must be what it’s like to hit the jackpot. 

SUGURU GETO

nonchalant (acting a fool)

Suguru can’t lie to himself and pretend like he hadn’t imagined this scenario too many times to count before, usually as a desperate last resort when he’d found he can’t imagine getting off to anything other than the thought of you at a certain point. He’s sure that he’s a better man than this, and he’d certainly tried to be courteous and discrete about the way you make him feel, shying away from the line he’s been dreaming to cross. 

But now, sitting up on the mattress and unable to tear his eyes away from your tits, he realizes that he’d been overshooting the strength of his own resolve. Suguru surges forward, taking one in his mouth as he guides you up and down his length, doing anything he can to prove he’s still being normal about this. Fuck it. 

“Fuck,”  he moans against your chest, “wait a minute-...” You still your movements, tilting your head curiously at him as he swallows breathlessly, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” He quickly reassures with a shake of his head, gently squeezing at your hips to punctuate the promise, “God, nothing’s wrong at all, I just need-...let me eat you out. Please?” You blink at him in surprise, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Huh?” 

“Seriously, I-...” He shakes his head, gazing up at you like you’re the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen, “it’s all I’ve been thinking about.” 

During those moments in the past in which he found himself fucking his fist to the thought of you, he only ever found himself relishing in the idea of burying himself between your legs and making careful sure that the only thing you’d be capable of saying was his name. The both of you had been too hasty in the wake of realizing your feelings were reciprocated, too desperate to give each other everything you’d been dreaming of. It feels like the heavens have opened up before him as you slip off of his lap, letting him situate you against the pillows. 

Suguru’s methodic in the way he trails warm kisses down your body, stopping to suck a mark into your hip, but he can’t tease for too long, not when he probably wants to get you off on his tongue more than you want it (which is saying a lot). 

He kisses your bare cunt gratefully, before dragging his tongue against your entrance, eyelids already going heavy as he slips into a euphoric trance. Suguru tries his very hardest to keen on every noise you make, every cry of his name, but it’s hard to do that when he’s getting so drunk off the flavor of you. He’s suddenly starved, devouring you completely, too far gone to be embarrassed of the way he shakes his head against your pussy or moans just as loud as you do. 

Geto’s suspicions had been utterly correct. While he’s been eager to have you like he did moments before, to feel you wrap around him and to fuck up into you with calculated thrusts, this definitely takes the cake. He grows dizzy off your scent, grinding against the mattress to prevent himself from further losing his mind over the prospect of what he’s doing right now. 

You lace your hands through his hair, pulling at it as he brings you closer to the edge. This is all he needs, he thinks, he can easily be fine spending the rest of his life like this. Suguru wants to prove that much over and over again to you, and he won’t hesitate if you’ll let him. “You’re perfect.” He mumbles against your cunt, and he’s partially glad you’re too far gone to hear some of the pathetic remarks he’s uttering, “Need this so bad.”

Yeah, good luck hopping back on his dick anytime soon now that he knows he was right about how addicting you’d be. 

KENTO NANAMI

nonchalant by a thread

It’s easy for Kento to have steel-grade self control when you’re fully clothed and the conversation is tame. But when clothes are taken out of the equation, well, that’s a different story. That being said, he won’t forget his manners. 

You’re in a tender mating press, smiling softly at the sweet kisses Nanami keeps peppering across your face, and occasionally one to your lips. He briefly wonders why he ever thought it was a good idea to hesitate in taking the initiative to have you laid out against his pillows like this, moaning his name almost as if you knew how much that chipped away at his own self-preservation. You’re dangerously close to getting him to embarrass himself. 

“Do you like this?” He breathes against the shell of your ear as his pace speeds up a bit, knocking the wind out of you. Regardless, you nod, hardly able to wrap your lips around anything other than the shape of his name. Kento bites his lip, fighting the urge to go even faster. This was your first time together, after all, he’d be mad not to cherish it like something fleeting and sacred. He wants more, he wants this all the time, and he’s so close to begging you for it. In some last attempt of self-preservation, he utters, “You feel amazing,” almost choking on his breath after the fact. 

“Fuck, keep doing that.” You cry out, throwing your head back to give him a clear view of your throat that he so desperately wishes to mark up. He almost asked what you meant, before he peers down, realizing he’d mindlessly begun rubbing circles into your clit. Kento feels like he’s getting ahead of himself, yet not doing enough at the same time; this feeling is so foreign and overwhelming, but he’s falling in love with it. 

Following your orders, he continues his steady pace on your clit, mouth going dry as you tell him how close you are. Yes, please, that’s all I want to hear. 

“Please,” he murmurs in a gravelly voice, not realizing he’d started voicing his own thoughts, “cum for me.” Nanami is certain he’s going to lose control any moment, and he’s sure that you cumming around his cock is not going to help him at all in his hope to still be a gentleman to you. It’s alright, though, he thinks. If he’s going to embarrass himself, lose all resolve and allow himself to drown in this simple pleasure, Kento doesn’t think he’d want to do it with anyone else but you.

[teambyler]

Teambyler: I'm gonna disappear when Season 5 comes out

I will avoid the internet like the plague.

I will stop posting on Tumblr, or anywhere. I won't respond to messages.

People are already talking about how if there's a Byler kiss they'll change their PFPs to show it. I love us Bylers, you're all crazy in a good way, but I can't see any of that shit.

I HATE SPOILERS. Plus, as I promised in my big Byler video, I need to film my GENUINE FIRST reaction to each episode. PLUS, I need to give commentary to each episode and edit those reaction videos for YouTube. I won't be able to quickly do all that.

This is my plan:

Nov. 26: I watch the first episode. Over the next couple days I edit my reaction and post it on my Patreon. They'll be edited... I think a pure unedited reaction from ME will be too boring, as I pause frequently and double-back a lot. My Patreon videos will still have me react to the whole episode though. My public video will be substantially shorter than that. (You can't post a complete reaction on YT.) I'll do these as quickly as possible for each episode.

Dec. 1, 8, 15, 22: VOLUME ONE REACTIONS go up on YouTube.

Dec. 29, Jan. 5, 12: VOLUME TWO REACTIONS go up on YouTube.

Jan. 19: FINALE REACTION goes up on YouTube.

Also, because people will want to know specifically how *I* react to things and what I think about XYZ, I'll withhold from engaging with the fandom between November 26 and when that LAST reaction goes up on January 18. (I MIGHT share my thoughts on things that I already I publicly react to, though.)

So prepare for a "drought" from me!

I REALLY need to cut myself off for this to happen. If for some reason the media wants to talk to "that lawyer who made a Byler video" that in itself tells me too much! So I'll make sure to avoid being reached by them as well.

I can't even look at the dashboard of my own channel for a while. For example, if my Byler video suddenly gets a million views that tells me more than I want to know! =D Actually, I can't see ANY Byler video for a while because if any of them are hugely popular that tells me too much. Aaaaugh!

-teambyler

[smashwolfen]

~Pōkami Brush Gods~

This took both longer and shorter to do than I thought it would take BUT YEAH IT THEM!! EVERYONE IS HERE!!!

I've been wanting to do this piece ever since I began thinking up who was gonna be who for the brush gods, but also knew it was gonna be really hard to do at the same time, the final layer count came to 73 layers its insane how many I used! I'm very very happy how it came out in the end, especially when I remembered I could texture layers on Sai again to make the piece a bit more weathered and papery like the OG image this is based off of!

Best I could do but still very proud of how it came together in the end!

Zoomed in shots of everyone for easier viewing under the cut!

Original Pokami post that also links the individual brush gods posts

Look at all of them guys!

And! A teeny tiny wandering surveyor Rei!!

With this being under the cut PLEASE tumblr do not eat this version Ive tried everything and the tags for searching up the other ones get ruined!!! I WANT THE WORLD TO SEE POKAMI MY DUMB PASSION AND I WORK SO HARD ON THIS ONEEEEE!!! ;W;

[fictionadventurer]

Cranford is just so sad. This was supposed to be my light fluffy palate cleanser! Now it might be too sad to handle.

[gunstellations]

Magnus Institue Employees (s1)

[seven-supernovas]

𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝?

maintnencewoman!Ellie x fem!reader

slightly bound inspired

CW: dom!ellie, brattysub!r, fem!reader, men being idiots for a second, cunilingus both r and Ellie receiving, face riding r! receiving, slight cocky!Ellie

︶⠀୨୧⠀︶⊹︶⠀୨୧⠀︶⊹︶⠀୨୧⠀︶⊹︶⠀୨୧⠀︶⊹︶⠀୨୧⠀︶⊹︶⠀୨୧⠀︶

It kept you up at night. The dripping of your kitchen pipe. Over and over again you asked your landlord Mr.Santiago to fix it.

"We're backed up, next week" or "I'll send someone tomorrow", those are his famous lines he loves so much. But shocker no one ever comes. So you decided first thing in the morning you'd go up to the office and drag a maintenance man by the ear to your apartment if you needed to.

The next morning as intended you got ready. Putting on your nicest and shorter "conservative" dress. A black dress with pink polka dots. Accompanied by neat hair and cute shoes. All in the hopes of wooing someone, anyone to fix your freaking pipes.

Shoes clicking on the floor as you walked into your apartment complex's easing office. You heard laughs in a nearby room and followed, only to find a bunch of idiots doing a ton of laughing and not one bit of work.

Your POV

"Mr.Santiago, nice to see you again. Can we speak?", I said through gritted teeth.

"Yes Ms.L/N what is it that I can help you with?" All I could think was this fucking chump.

"I need someone that can fix my kitchen pipe. It's been leaking for three weeks and it's keeping me up at night! and don't send one of these lazy chumps they never do anything right.", I know I came off a little angry but come on.

"I understand Ms.L/N but we..." "No, no there isn't a line, or a wait or whatever the hell, I need the pipe to get fixed so get someone to do it right now."I don't mean to come off bratty but it's getting to a point.

He seemed to accept some level of defeat. "Williams go with her, apartment 3005"

"Yes sir", she said standing up. She was new, that's for sure new. No handyman of Mr.Santiago is ever happy to work.

The sound of the wrench would normally be annoying but right now it was music to my ears.

"Um Williams? would you like to something to drink?" she was hot that for sure. I'd break my wall if meant she was fixing it.

"It's Ellie and, no thank you love", she said with a grunt. So hot.

She finally finished and looked somehow hotter than before.

"I would like to thank you for helping me out. I know earlier I was being bossy but I'm not like that, I was only frustrated."

She smirked slightly. "Trust me I understand, if I didn't know how to fix things like this I'd go crazy too."

"There are other things I can do but yeah handy work isn't on the list. Well-uh thank you again"

"You gonna keep thanking me over and over?" she's smug and I'm being embarrassing.

"Do you not like being thanked or something?" if she's going to be smug so am I.

I don't have any problems with it, it's just funny" she said as she leaned against my countertop.

I rolled my eyes and that seemed to tick her off a bit.

"Well uh I guess there's no more work needed to be done so I'll just let myself out." she grabbed her bag getting ready to be on her way.

"Thanks again, are you sure I can't get you a drink or something on your way out". it's borderline desperate. She chuckles and so do I.

She walks towards me making me take a breath.

"Is there anything else you need fixing?", she looks at me with sure eyes.

"No, I don't think so..everything else is fine it was just my uh pipe that needed to be fixed."

"I'm not talking about your apartment." she was now close enough to whisper. Looking at me straight on.

"I'll only ask once again. Is there something you need?"

I broke. Grabbing her by the shirt and kissing her. She wrapped her hands around my waist finding both hands on my ass. It was a rough moment as she tried to as gently as possible push me onto the counter top.

She took off her gloves and tied up her short hair. She started with my neck slowly making way down to my boobs. She was gentle and soft, different to the way she'd been before, with a more hardened exterior.

Both sets of hands roaming the others' body. Hers on my boobs and my own deep within her hair. There was an even exchange of moans and groans to accompany the moment.

Soon enough her head was buried between my thighs as a let out moans with no shame. "Ellie fuck, don't stop"

"You want me to stop", I could feel the smirk while she was down on me. In retaliation I squeezed my thighs a little harder. "Stay still"

Her hand found its place, rubbing my clit as she dug her tongue deeper into me. Smooth rubs, almost hypnotizing.

"You can't come yet", she said stopping completely. "Why not ... can't handle it?" She scoffs as she climbed on top of the countertop to join me. "I can clearly handle you, case and point," she said scanning my body.

"Take off your clothes Ellie," it was a commanding tone one I rarely use. "I like my women bossy ya know", finally removing her pants and tank. "You didn't strike me as the type" "What do I seem like?" "I'm not entirely sure I guess we'll just have to see."

Eventually we ended up with Ellie riding my face. my arm hooking her muscular legs in an effort for her not to move. eventually she succumbed to the feeling. "don't move Ellie, please." "shhh just take it mama ... if you make me cum I'll make you scream, I can guarantee it."

︶⠀୨୧⠀︶⊹︶⠀୨୧⠀︶⊹︶⠀୨୧⠀︶⊹︶⠀୨୧⠀︶⊹︶⠀୨୧⠀︶⊹︶⠀୨୧⠀︶

well that was fun

pt.2 will be coming soon

original masterlist

tlou masterlist

more ellie oneshots

[shaunasrabbit]

Eyes on the Prize | QZ!Joel x F!Reader

Explicit. Minors DNI. Part V.

Summary: You play a road trip game with Joel.

Tags: No use of y/n, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, some physical descriptions (has a bush because #bushnation, has hair that can be pulled, and is curvy if you squint), age gap (reader is in her late 20s, Joel is in his 50s), bratty reader and mean!Joel, dom!Joel, verbal degradation, some pussy smacking, spit, dirty talk, pussy pronouns, use of good girl and other pet names, fingering, m!masturbation (Joel jerkin' it), spit, finger sucking, hair pulling, cum eating, like sort of edging but not really, distracted driving (drive safe, y'all). If I missed any tags, please let me know!

Word count: ~4.2K

Read on AO3

A/N: I'll be traveling for work this next week, but I wanted to get something out before I'm super busy. This chapter is on the shorter side and mainly smut, so it kind of feels like filler, but I hope you enjoy! Lightly proofread this myself, so my apologies for any typos. All on me. As always, likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated and feedback is welcome. Thank you for reading! Divider by @/saradika-graphics

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

“Jesus, where d’ya learn to drive?” Joel mumbles, gripping the grab handle like he’ll somehow fly out of the car if he lets go.

“I didn’t really learn how to drive,” you snap, “and it’s not my fucking fault that no one’s filling in the potholes during the apocalypse.” 

You roll your eyes and try to ignore the way your face feels hot under Joel’s gaze, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel. In the last hour and a half, you’ve only hit two potholes and considering the state of the roads, that’s a feat.

It’s surprising that Joel is even letting you drive. When he said you’d be borrowing a truck from Bill and Frank, you were sure that he’d be the one behind the wheel the entire time, but after a solid two hours on the road, he let you take over, still exhausted from fucking you last night. You’re tired too, obviously, blinking away any exhaustion that tries to settle within you, but you’re not going to complain. Knowing Joel, he’d say something like I guess I won’t fuck you anymore ‘cause ya clearly can’t handle it. 

Thinking about Joel fucking you is a mistake. Distracted from your daydreaming, you hit another pothole and your heads nearly smack into the ceiling. 

“Don’t even—”

“Are you even paying attention?” Joel cuts you off with his question. It’s rhetorical, but you start thinking of a snarky comment. “Gonna pop a fucking tire.”

“Joel,” you begin, tone venomous. When he shoots you a sharp look that you catch from your periphery, you bite your tongue. With an annoyed huff, you ask, “How much longer?” 

“Couple’a hours,” he responds, pulling out the map and tracing a line from Lincoln to Lake George. “D’ya think you can manage not to kill us?”

“Stop talking to me.” 

“Gladly,” he murmurs, turning his head to look out the window. He reminds you of an angsty teen and you bite back a smile.

Over breakfast, Joel informed you of your plan. The two of you would head up to Lake George, a roughly a three hour drive if you were able to take the highways, but it would take you longer if you were avoiding infected, raiders, or other smugglers. You’d be trading with some people that Joel met when they were still in the QZ. He said he trusts them enough and if Joel trusts them, so do you. 

Bill and Frank need welded cage wire to secure the perimeter of their safe haven and a few other things, so they’re sending you with a hand crank radio, ammunition, and guns. Joel hasn’t told you what you’re getting out of it, but again, you trust him. At this point, the two of you are hours from the QZ and have to rely on each other for survival, so you don’t really have a choice. If Joel says it’s a good deal, then it’s a good deal. You’ll have to take his word for it.

Are you nervous about the journey? Of course. It’s indubitably dangerous and honestly, a little stupid, but again, what else are you to do?

The silence feels oppressive as Joel stares straight ahead, eyes glued to the busted concrete terrain in front of you. Reaching over, you grab a cassette from the holder in the center console. You’re trying not to hit potholes, so you don’t really look at your selection before popping it in the tape deck. Turning up the volume, you feel your breath catch in your throat when Johnny Cash starts to play.

“Good pick,” Joel mumbles.

“Sure is, cowboy,” you say teasingly, glancing at Joel as he shoots you a dirty look, eyes narrowed. His lips twitch into what resembles a smile.

Then it’s just you two and the music.

I hear the train a-comin’, it’s rolling ‘round the bend.

And I ain’t seen the sunshine since I don’t know when.

You can practically hear your father’s voice from afar, like he’s still in the kitchen singing and making breakfast. You can almost smell the bacon and taste the eggs, your dad appearing in the doorway, juggling plates. Sunny side up, he’d say.  Just how you like ‘em, so you can dip your toast in the yolks. The music drags you back in time.

The tapping of Joel’s foot from the passenger side snatches you from your memory and you feel grateful for the interruption. You let the whole tape play before pulling it out. As you’re retrieving from the deck, ready to toss it back in the console, your hand on the steering wheel follows your turned head and you nearly drive off of the road. 

“I know,” you blurt out before Joel gets the chance to speak. “I’m a shit driver.”

“Not necessarily a bad driver, just a distracted one,” he says. 

“That was almost a compliment, so thanks, but also, I’m not…that easily distracted,” you defend yourself, eyes trained on the open road. 

Joel lifts a brow, looking at you with amusement etched on his face. Glancing over at him quickly before looking at the road again, you furrow your brows. Whatever’s going on in his head makes you uneasy. You think about saying something, breaking the silence, but a firm, heavy hand lands on your thigh. His thumb traces lazily circles over your jeans. You sigh softly, quietly hating yourself for the way your clit is already throbbing.

“Not that easily distracted, huh?” he teases, voice low and dark. You recognize the tone well. You heard it last night when he snuck into your room.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the p. 

Eyes glued to the road, you control your breathing as Joel’s hand snakes up your leg. Nearly brushing your clothed center with his thumb, he moves his hand to the valley where your thighs meet. Unconsciously, you part your legs for him and he chuckles.

“Y’wanna test it? Play a little game to see if you’re right?” Joel asks, giving your thigh a tight squeeze.

You run your tongue along your top teeth, sucking them and shaking your head. Whatever he has in mind is a bad idea, you know that, but he has a way of making you think with your pussy and not your head. The weight of his hand on your thigh alone feels intoxicating and each time he strokes your plush skin with his thumb, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to giving in.

When Joel’s fingers make light contact with your clit through your jeans, you shudder slightly and your breath hitches. Joel hums next to you, satisfied with himself, and cups your mound before smacking your pussy. You hold in a whimper, biting your bottom lip. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. I think she wants to play with me.” Joel’s voice is syrupy, dripping with lust. It shoots right to your core. “Bet she’s already real wet for me.”

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You glance over at Joel and his eyes look impossibly dark. He rubs your clit through your jeans and you know it’s over. You’re going to give in. “What do I get when I win?” 

“Don’t go gettin’ ahead of yourself. Let’s just see if you can be a good girl for me.”

“Joel, I’m not doing shit for you unless you tell me what I’m getting out of it.”

A sharp blow lands on your pussy and you yelp, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that it makes your palms ache. 

“Not off to a good start,” he says, moving his hand away from your pussy. He fumbles with the button of your jeans and the zipper; the angle is awkward and you get a kick out of watching Joel struggle. He’s usually so smooth. Once he gets it, he taps your leg and instructs, “Lift.”

You shoot him a sideways glance, trying not to take your eyes off the road for too long, but you do it, lifting your hips so Joel can slide your jeans down. Almost immediately, you fuck up and press the gas way too hard, the truck jolting forward. Joel puts a hand on your lower belly as if he were your seatbelt.

Much to your surprise, he doesn’t say anything, but you’re still holding your breath. Heat creeps across your face as you think about how ridiculous you must look sitting in the driver’s seat with your jeans down just past your knees, soaked underwear still on. Joel’s gaze weighs on you, his eyes dragging up and down your body, taking all of you in. He unbuckles his seatbelt to move closer to you. Brave move all things considered, you think. 

“Knew she’d be fuckin’ soaked,” Joel growls, running two thick fingers up and down the center of your panties. He leans forward to get a better look at the wet spot that’s formed. “Look how bad she wants me.”

You inhale sharply, knowing damn well that if you were to look down at the mess between your legs, you’d swerve off the road. Instead, you focus on what’s in front of you. Your hand gripping the wheel, the sun tucking itself behind the trees, the broken concrete. 

“I have to focus, remember?” you lilt.

Joel doesn’t respond with words, no. He just shoves two fingers inside of you without moving your panties, pushing the fabric into your leaking slit. With the barrier preventing him from going deep, it’s not enough to make you feel satisfied, but you let out a whimper as if you’re telling him more, more, more. You fight the urge to close your eyes, something you normally would do to focus on the feeling of Joel. If there’s anything that rivals Joel’s touch, it’s the satisfaction of winning. 

When he pulls his fingers out of you, he moves to your clit, rubbing precise circles on your swollen bud. The pressure is perfect and you whine, pushing your hips into Joel’s touch while also doing your best to stay in line. Although it’s not like it matters. No one else is, thankfully, on the road. You’d have bigger problems than your bad driving.

Joel picks up the pace, massaging your clit and rolling it between his fingers. You’re nearly panting at this point and very much struggling to drive well, but you manage to focus on avoiding potholes and debris. 

“Doin’ so well for me. I’m sorta surprised,” he rasps. Joel hits your cunt once—hard—and you whine. “Usually so fuckin’ brainless when I’m touchin’ you.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you mumble under your breath between moans. “Maybe I should drive us off the road.”

“But then you wouldn’t be able to come and this whore of a cunt is makin’ a mess of your pretty panties,” he says, his voice drenched in condescension as he pulls the waistband of your underwear, letting it go and snap back into place. “I think ya need it.”

You hold back a strangled whine at his filthy words and you catch a glimpse of a smug smirk on his face, knowing damn well what he’s doing to you. 

“Say it,” he demands. “Tell me how bad you wanna come.”

Shaking your head, you clench your jaw and clutch the steering wheel like it’s the last thing tethering you to earth. You do want to come. You want to completely ruin your panties. You want to moan and whine so Joel tells you how pretty you sound. You want him to call you a good girl. Every time you give in, you think you might hate him, but you love it. You can’t get enough of Joel Miller and his stupid, dirty mouth. 

Joel pulls his hand off of your pussy and leans back in his seat. Your eyes go wide as you turn your head to look at him, abandoning the road in front of you.

“What are you doing?” you ask, hoping that your voice doesn’t sound as desperate as you feel.

He shrugs and stares straight ahead. “Not going to touch you ‘til you say it.”

You look out the windshield once again, reminding yourself that you are, in fact, in control of a vehicle that weighs a few thousand pounds. Plus, you want to win. You want to come, badly, but you also want to win. You can do both, right? It’ll mean admitting it, saying what he wants to hear. What he already knows.

“I want to come,” you mutter and it’s barely audible. 

“What was that, sweetheart? Couldn’t hear you.”

“Joel,” you say with a groan and an eye roll, “I want to come. Okay? I want to come, so make me come.”

“D’you think you’re in charge?” he snaps, turning to look at you again. You, sitting there exposed, with your pants down and wet underwear. “Think you can make demands? I don’t have to make you come.”

“I know, but you want to and fuck, I did what you asked.”

“So damn bratty when you’re not getting what you want,” he grumbles. 

You do your best to bite back a smile, noticing that he didn’t deny that he wants to make you come. Knowing Joel Miller wants you as bad as you want him makes you shift in your seat in an attempt to quell the ache between your legs. 

“Please, Joel,” you say softly. “I want you to make me come.”

Joel sighs, like it’s an inconvenience to touch you, but he leans over, spreading your thighs further apart with force; the movement nearly makes your foot slide off the gas pedal. With two fingers, he moves your panties to the side and holds them open, finally making contact with your bare cunt as he dips a finger inside of you. It’s shallow and quick, but enough to make you sigh in pleasure. Now that he’s gathered your slick, he circles your pulsing clit. 

“Oh my god,” you whine as he speeds up. Joel knows your body so well, knows exactly what to do to make your legs tremble. “F-Fuck, thank you.”

Humming in response, he keeps the pressure and pace steady. You can feel your orgasm building low in your belly, your legs shaking as you try to maintain a consistent speed while also avoiding potholes. Driving has never been harder and you sort of hate him for this, but you really can’t when he’s making you feel so damn good.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joel’s free hand move and you turn your head fully to look over. Joel’s palming his hard cock through his jeans, the fabric straining against his bulge. His eyes are fixed on your pussy, wet and wanting, and all he can hear is your panting that’s interrupted by moans. He doesn’t even notice that you’re staring at him, eyes completely neglecting the road, until you mumble a holy shit under your breath. 

“Don’t fuckin’ look at me,” he practically barks, slapping your clit which only heightens your pleasure. “Eyes on the damn road.”

The gruffness of his voice spurs you on and you’re about to tumble over the edge. Your orgasm is so close that your breathing is uneven. Still, you manage to goad him on with your eyes trained on his hand that gropes his own cock.

“Or what?” you ask, your voice sing-songy and dripping with lust.

You’re about to come when Joel snatches his hand away and grabs your jaw, ripping your eyes away from him and forcing you to look forward. He completely ruins your orgasm.

“Or I won’t fuckin’ touch you. Use your damn head,” he growls.

“I was so close, Joel,” you complain, shifting in your seat like it’ll give you any sort of relief. You realize you sound like a petulant child as you whine, but you can’t seem to give a fuck, so desperate to come.

“Whose fault is that?” 

“Mine,” you mumble, knowing that if you don’t take the blame he’ll let you sit in your frustration. 

Joel nods and hums in acknowledgement. You’re staring straight ahead, not daring to look at him, when you hear him unbutton and unzip his jeans. Flicking your eyes over ever so slightly so he doesn’t see, you catch a glimpse at his hard dick that’s been freed from his boxers. He begins stroking himself and your chest tightens with desire, your lips parting instinctively. You could drool just thinking about the weight of his cock on your tongue.

“Now I wanna hear you beg for it, baby. Tell me you’re sorry. Tell me how bad ya want it,” he rasps.

Part of you wants to fight him on it, but you need to come so bad you can’t even bring yourself to argue. 

“Please, Joel,” you say, wiggling in your seat, “I’m sorry. I-I was…I was a bad girl.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to call yourself a bad girl because you know Joel is never going to let it go, but you try not to kick yourself for it. 

“Shit,” he grumbles, low and gravelly. Joel’s strokes himself faster. “Say it again.”

“I’m sorry for being a bad girl. Touch me, please,” you beg. “I swear I’ll be good for you.”

The groan he lets out is from somewhere deep inside his chest and in your periphery, you notice that he’s still jerking himself off. For a moment, you thought he had come by the sound that came out of him. Joel obliges and reaches over to shove two of his thick fingers into your cunt. With his palm against your clit, you begin rutting into his hand, desperate to chase your lost orgasm again. 

Joel leans over, lets go of his cock, and sticks his free hand toward you. 

“Spit,” he commands with an open hand. 

You glance at him for a second to see if he’s serious. With a furrowed brow, parted lips, and eyes so dark you feel like you could get sucked into them like a black hole, you know he’s serious. Dead serious. Spit pools in your mouth before you let it fall into his hand, doing your best to keep your eyes on the road even though you want to look at his fucked out face so badly. 

Joel says something under his breath, but it’s hard to decipher what over the sound of his fingers fucking your cunt and the wet glide of his hand on his cock. You think it sounded like a thank you, but there’s no way you heard him correctly. 

“Bein’ a good girl now, huh?” That sounds more like Joel. “You’ll do whatever I say when you’re needy like this. My pretty, desperate whore.”

Even though it was followed by desperate and whore, he still called you pretty. Better yet, he called you his. Your face and neck get hot from the compliment and your impending orgasm. 

“Uh-huh,” you whimper, grinding into his palm. The pressure that was snatched from you before quickly returns. “Joel, I’m going to—”

“Alright now, fuck yourself on my fingers. Come f’me, sugar,” he encourages, plunging himself deeper into you. 

You unravel as your orgasm hits you like a freight train and high-pitched moans claw their way out of you. Clenching around Joel’s fingers and slamming on the brakes, your trembling legs close around Joel’s hand, trapping him between your thighs. It takes everything in you not to close your eyes.

“‘Atta girl. S’good, sweetheart,” Joel says through grit teeth as he massages his shaft.

Abruptly, you pull over on the shoulder, all gravel and debris. If you could think straight, you’d be worried about popping a tire. You put the car into park and throw your head back on the headrest. Letting your head loll to the side, you finally get a good look at Joel. His cheeks are flushed and mouth is slightly agape as he continues to stroke his dick. When he notices you staring at him, he pulls his fingers out of you. 

“Open,” he commands. His voice is low and firm in the most delicious way.

Once you part your lips and stick your tongue out, Joel puts one of his digits, coated in your juices, in your mouth. You wrap your lips around his finger and close your eyes, humming as you taste yourself. He pulls his finger out of your mouth with an obscene pop. The other finger that was buried in you goes into his mouth as he plays with himself. He sucks it clean and you feel your juices leak out of you at the sight.

You have to have him. You have to.

Leaning over the middle console, you go to wrap your lips around the red, leaking tip of his cock when he grabs you by the hair. 

“No.”

“No?” you ask, slowly and obviously confused. 

“No,” he repeats. “Ya don’t get my cock, baby.” 

“No?” Furrowing your eyebrows, you sit up and stare at him incredulously. “Well, why the fuck not?”

“‘Cause you slammed on the brakes. Y’were distracted,” he states matter-of-factly like you’re an idiot for even asking.

You let out a dry laugh and lean back into your seat, pulling up your pants. The whole time you’re doing this, Joel continues to chase his own release. 

“You’re un-fucking-believable. I was coming. I was doing what you said to do,” you defend yourself.

“Wasn’t the point of the game. Point of the game was to not be distracted.”

You shake your head and turn away from him, crossing your arms. You realize you look childish, but that doesn’t stop you from staring out the front windshield, ignoring the man next to you who sounds closer to his orgasm every second.

“No, c’mon. Look at me,” he demands between ragged breaths. “Couldn’t keep your damn eyes off of me earlier. So right here, look right here.”

Joel grabs your jaw and makes you look at him, your eyes locked on his blown out pupils. 

“Eyes on me, baby.” 

You listen. You always do. Joel’s chest heaves up and down as he gets closer to coming and he looks beautiful like that, with his brows drawn tightly together and a sheen of sweat on his forehead. His hand cradles your face as he pries your jaw open with his thumb, sticking it in your hot, wet mouth. You clasp around him and suck. This does him in, and he spills all over his hand as he groans. You can’t look away, completely mesmerized by the mess dripping down his shaft and rough hands. 

“Fuck,” he says with a sharp exhale. 

He pulls his thumb out from your mouth and gathers some of his cum on his index finger. Before he even lifts his hand to you, you open your mouth expectantly. Joel smirks at you as he pushes his finger into your mouth. Joel always knows what you want and to some extent, you always know what he wants. You suck until there’s nothing left.

“Fuck,” you repeat back to him, nodding and wiping some spit off of your lower lip with the back of your hand.

Joel’s hand drops and he tenderly rubs circles on your thigh, letting his hand rest there. Your breath hitches at the contact. It’s soft, sweet, and surprising. Both of you sit in silence for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath and come down from your highs. Eventually, Joel squeezes your thigh before pulling away and reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out napkins to clean himself up. Once he tucks himself back into his boxers and buttons his jeans, you slide closer to him and shove his arm.

“What?”

“Move,” you reply. “I don’t want to drive anymore. Someone tired me out.”

Joel rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Never afraid to show his annoyance with you. Even so, he gets out of the car and you slide into the passenger seat. 

Back on the road, Joel’s dead silent, staring ahead and acting like nothing happened. Maybe it’s the nature of the situation, of fooling around in the car, but you feel like you’re missing something. There’s not the weight of Joel’s body on yours, no comforting touch, no kisses on your neck. 

“Do you even like me?” you ask suddenly. Goddamn it, you think to yourself. Why the fuck would you ask that?

Joel glances over at you with one eyebrow raised, looking surprised by your question. One of his arms is perched on the side of the door, his hand resting on his cheek, while the other hand grasps the steering wheel tightly. His knuckles are almost white from the grip.

“Enough to deal with your ass for a week,” he says, looking back at the road. It’s Joel, so he sounds grumpy, but there’s also some lightness to his tone and you don’t know what to make of it.

“I’ll take it,” you reply, “but for the record, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

No. You don’t.

You shake your head and lean against the window, closing your eyes while a smile creeps on your face against your will. 

Joel’s looking at you. You can feel it.

[this-acuteneurosis]

So from a pacing standpoint, I’m estimating WWNWC to be around 150 chapters. It feels like there’s too much to wrap up at the narrative pace you tend to keep. Do you think that estimate is high or low?

*sobs softly into hands*

Once upon a time, I was like, "this fic won't be too long," and my friend was like, "You're gonna cross 1 million words," and in my hubris I was like, "no, never, surely no more than 800k, tops."

*glances at current word count*

Well, we're gonna hit at least 900k before this story ends. That said, this arc should, should be shorter than Duty Bound. Please. Please...

(set me free...)

[zyart-jpg]

“404: Not Just a Gremlin”

Pairing: Wooin Yoo x Reader

Summary: He thought you were just a dude that supplies him drugs.

Tags: Genderbender, Suggestive, Drugs mentioned, Clubbing, Alcohol usage, Reader is a storefront runner, COMEDY I SWEAR I TRIED

A/N: im unemployed, yall!!!!!!!!! finally have freedom ;D

It wasn’t clean work, never claimed it was.

But it paid well—and you were damn good at it.

You weren’t out pushing pills or mixing chemicals in some underground lab. You were behind the screen. Rerouting transactions, scrubbing trails, keeping the network alive. Fake storefronts, crypto wallets, ghost accounts—you knew the supply, the runners, the paths.

Call it what you want. You called it business.

Tucked behind flickering monitors in your busted old PC bang, you ran a quiet little empire. To outsiders, it was just a gaming café—cheap rates, sticky keyboards, and the constant drone of teens yelling over gunfire and lag.

But to those in the know? It was the pickup point. Dealers came in, grabbed their box, left. No names, no faces. Easy.

You? Just the owner. Quiet, forgettable. Exactly how you liked it.

Well—almost.

“Heya~”

There it was—the downside.

“How’s my favorite manager doing, huh?”

You didn’t even look up. Hoodie low, fingers typing. Just sighed loud enough for the dramatics to hear.

The duo was already leaning over the counter like they paid rent. The shorter one—trademark smug grin, lollipop in mouth—popped it out just to talk more shit.

“Still giving me the cold shoulder? You’re breaking my heart, manager,” Wooin whined like a brat who didn’t get his candy.

You stood, grabbed the box from the back shelf, dropped it on the counter without a word.

Wooin Yoo: Club rat. Dealer. Professional pain in your ass. Somehow turned pestering you into a nightly routine.

He picked up the box with a grin. “Thanks, bro. You’re the real MVP.”

“Shut your ass up and scram,” you muttered, sliding back into your chair.

“Cold as ever.” He clicked his tongue. “Seriously, what do you even do in here all day? Jerk off to code?”

You didn’t look up. “Yeah. And you just ruined the climax. Thanks.”

He laughed, slapping the counter. “You’re such a freak. I like that about you.”

“Overdose already,” you mumbled.

“See? This is why we vibe,” he said, tapping the lollipop against your monitor. “Mysterious, hostile, probably sleep-deprived—you’re just my type, bro.”

You finally glanced up, just enough for your eyes to meet his.

Flat. Bored. Unbothered.

“Flirting’s not gonna get you a discount.”

Wooin grinned. “Didn’t say it was. Just sayin’—if I swung that way...”

You raised a brow. “If?”

He blinked. “Wait, are you flirting back now?”

You leaned in slightly, deadpan. “Do you want me to?”

He blinked again. Laughed nervously. “Okay, kinda scared. Kinda intrigued. Can’t tell if you’d punch me or kiss me.”

“Flip a coin,” you said, already turning back to your screen.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, staring a little too long. “I swear, you’re the hottest gamer goblin I’ve ever met.”

You didn’t correct him.

Let him think what he wants. It's easier that way.

–

Clubs were a balm for his messed-up soul—no doubt about it.

Let the bass rattle his bones, let the lights blur his thoughts. Scope the room for someone pretty, slip a tab or two, maybe end the night tangled with a stranger. That was the rhythm of nightlife—the kind he lived for.

Morality? Please.

He was never gunning for sainthood—where’s the thrill in playing it safe?

If he wanted a quiet life, he wouldn’t be out here pushing pills for fast cash. Hell, he wouldn’t have split his tongue, pierced half his damn face, or carved himself into someone society couldn’t swallow.

So yeah—look him in the eye and see if he gives a damn.

And speaking of things he does give a damn about—

There she was.

Perched at the bar, legs crossed, skin glowing under the wash of neon. Pretty. Effortless. Bored enough to be dangerous. Just the kind of trouble he liked to chase.

Wooin slid in beside you with the ease of someone who’s never been told no in a way that stuck. Elbow on the counter, lollipop tucked between his teeth like punctuation. Confident. Lazy. Dangerous.

“Hey,” he said, voice dipped in syrup and sin. “You look like you need something sweeter than whatever’s in that glass.”

He caught the sideways glance you gave him—sharp, bored, and unimpressed. Your lashes barely lifted, and yet that one look rolled straight through him like you’d already read the script and hated the ending.

He smirked, unbothered.

“Damn, rolling your eyes when I haven’t even misbehaved yet?” he chuckled, teeth flashing as he leaned a little closer. “That’s cold, ma.”

The bartender slid over a glass of whatever he always got—he didn’t look, didn’t need to. His focus was locked. There was something about the curve of your jaw, the way you leaned against the counter like you owned the night. 

Familiar. Too familiar.

His smile twitched, just slightly.

He took a sip, studying you from the rim of his glass.

“Have we met?” he asked, tone still smooth but a shade more cautious now.

You turned to him slowly, all deliberate grace—like you had no reason to rush, like time moved for you. Hair slid off your shoulder as you tucked it behind your ear, revealing a discreet earpiece that gleamed under the bar’s chaotic lights.

Wooin’s gaze dragged over you, and yeah—he’d smash. Obviously. Silk slipping over skin like a whisper? lips painted that deep, cruel red? You looked like trouble in the prettiest packaging, the kind of girl who walked away with a guy’s pride in her purse. 

But something tugged at the edges of his mind.

The way your eyes narrpwed. The tiny sigh that escaped you. That look of exasperation like you’d known him all your life and were already tired of his shit.

His smile faltered. Just a flicker.

He squinted at you, the light shifting overhead. Shadows rolled across your face and for half a second—something clicked.

His stomach dropped.

No way.

It couldn’t—

“Shut your ass up and scram, Wooin,” you muttered, not even sparing him a full glance.

His jaw practically hit the floor.

“Manager?!” he half-shouted, then slapped a hand over his mouth as a couple at the end of the bar turned to look.

He leaned in closer, eyes bugging out, voice dropping to a frantic whisper like it was state secrets he’d just uncovered.

“No fucking way—you’re a chick?!”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle you didn’t pull something.

“Wow,” you muttered, flat and unimpressed. “Sexist and stupid. What a combo.”

“Holy shit,” he exhaled, practically vibrating as he stared at you like you’d just sprouted a second head—one he was weirdly into. “You’ve been hot this whole time? And you never said anything?!”

You cocked a brow, already exasperated. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“I mean, I just—” He gestured vaguely at your face. “I always thought you were, like... some dude...or a gremlin in a hoodie. You always looked like you hated daylight and happiness.”

You sipped your drink. “Still do.”

“Yeah, but now you’re—fuck, you’re, like—dangerously hot.”

You turned fully to him, resting an elbow on the bar as you looked him over with deliberate slowness. “And you’re still wearing that ugly-ass yellow glasses and thinking it’s a personality.”

He clutched his chest. “Oof. Brutal.”

“Accurate.”

He let out a laugh, grinning even wider. 

“I can’t believe this. All this time, I’ve been annoying the hell out of you thinking you were some grumpy little dude with carpal tunnel and a porn addiction—”

“And I let you think that,” you said, tilting your glass toward him in mock cheers, “because you’d never shut up otherwise.”

“I don’t know whether to be offended or turned on,” he muttered.

“Go with turned on,” you said dryly. “You’re easier to handle when you're distracted.”

He snorted into his drink, then leaned in, eyes gleaming now—not with shock, but curiosity. Interest.

“Okay, but, like—real talk. You always this hot under all that fabric? Or did you do this just to mess with me?”

You smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His gaze dipped—subtle, lingering, not even pretending to hide it now.

“Actually,” he said, his voice dropping a touch lower, warmer, “yeah. I really, really would.”

The air between you thickened—less banter now, more charged. More aware.

You raised your brow again, but your smile was slower this time. 

 “Wooin.”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“You’re staring.”

“Yeah,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I am.”

Silence. Or maybe not silence—just that kind of hum that fills the air when things shift. When tension stops being playful and starts becoming something else.

You looked down at your drink, then back up at him, eyelashes brushing your cheeks as you spoke.

“My shift ends in twenty,” you said. Casual. Measured. But not vague.

Wooin’s smile twitched, then grew into something unholy.

“Cool,” he said, leaning back with a lazy stretch. “I was just about to ask if you wanted to keep talking somewhere less... flourescent.”

“Oh?” You sipped, slow. “And where would that be?”

He shrugged, eyes glittering.

“I dunno. My place has softer lighting. Warmer... atmosphere. Fewer strangers.”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. 

“Sounds sketchy.”

“Only mildly,” he grinned. “But I’ll even throw in a second lollipop and let you bully me the entire night.”

You laughed into your glass, shaking your head—but you didn’t say no.

Didn’t have to.

You just said, “Twenty minutes, then.”

And Wooin, already victorious, tapped his glass to yours.

“Worth the wait.”

MASTERLIST

[curioud-epic]

(Continuation) Epic au (crack) where odysseus becomes a tiny man while they are sailing back to ithaca (he probably got cursed by a certain god) and now he has to deal with that while trying to safely get his men back home.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Next (probably)

maybe i should make pov for the other characters while this was happening haha.

- they're finally at the cave. I didnt show it but somehow inanimate objects that tiny ody uses becomes tiny too (for convenience! and also no it does not turn back to normal - or maybe it'll turn back to normal size when he gets back)

- was gonna make a scene where polyphemus sees tiny ody and similar to the lotus eaters reaction is to take him (look at that fluffy hair ;;v;;) thats why he wants him to stay too

- odysseus convinces the cyclops to drink first and maybe hell change his mind or hell consider it.

- of course, he rejects it and asks that they leave. and yeahhh, it doesnt go well.

thats about it ^^;; no idea how im gonna continue this, i mostly just drew snippets of what i think would happen.

fun fact: this wasnt the original idea i had for this au. The original was that, the crew and penelope see him as he was before he changed but for some reason EVERYONE ELSE sees ody as this tiny man.

like this was fueled by the sheer image of circe, after turning back his men, looks at eurylochus with fury and shouts at him for letting a child become their captain.

eurylochus looks at the captain confused and looks back hands raised placatingly and explaining that his captain is the king and is competent enough to be THEIR captain.

and some crew members just shouts back to defend the captain and second in command saying things like "Yeah the captain is just shorter than the rest but he is NOT a child."

"... maybe?"

"i mean lord poseidon did ALSO get angry that were letting a child lead us..."

"...but were not?"

"I meeeeannn--"

and now everyone is starting to make some crazy conspiracy theories.

[mandatory-ftmbreeder]

first time dildo buyer anon again: I am afraid I might be too tight and little for penetration :-( ... followed all suggestions (having an orgasm first, using more than enough lube, etc) but every time I tried using my very new Purchase (W: 1.6 X L: 5) it just wouldn't budge inside without feeling like I was about to tear 😢 I will keep Experimenting but mission failed (also this is not me bragging I am genuinely very crushed OTL)

There are conditions that can cause penetration to be very difficult/impossible, like vaginismus. I'm not a doctor nor do i have any experience with those sorts of things so I can't offer much advice here except suggest you look into it.

From what I've heard, some people use dilators which start extremely small and you slowly work up in size. But again idk that much about it.

You could also just naturally be small. Is the 1.6 width the diameter of the dildo, or the circumference? I'm gonna assume you mean diameter. I think 1.6 is a little thick. The dildo i have is like 1.5-1.7 in diameter and i also have a bit of a hard time taking it unless I'm very wet and relaxed. 1 or 1.25 inches might be better for you. I can take 1.25 pretty easily.

Just like dicks, holes can also come in different sizes. Some can take big girthy long dicks and others can only take shorter thinner dick.

Hopefully this provided some help and gives you some stuff to look into regarding your troubles with penetration!

[batterysoup]

Stex 1988 reactions, but I decided to do this in the middle of watching it so there is no order only chaos.

Thought Belle said "I take their teeth" in her song, and had to look up the lyrics because I lived in a world where she was a possible evil tooth fairy for a moment.

Did not realize that the lyrics for CB changed to the Robinhood verison only 4 years after the show started!

Poppa punched tf out of Bobo he was not playing

The prescence of the narrator for the races implies to me that control watches other sports and decided yeah that's how sports work they all have a commentator

I think normally he makes someone comment for him when he's playing races

Belle you are my favorite coach idc that I thought you were maybe a murderer for a second

Greaseball being mean to Dinah makes me so sad I made an image of him being hit with hammers

Image of hammers and rest of post below the cut

Everytime he's mean to Dinah im gonna add another hammer.

My favorite bit of any starlight show is the part where dustin and rusty team up for racing before dinah absolutely disses Electras lack of dic- i mean whistle.

I love this Dinahs southern accent.

I started this during Dinah dick diss track if you can't tell.

CB laugh in this is delicious.

I know you are not in it "just for me"CB you want Electras nonexistent whistle

DUSTIN I LOVE YOU!!!

The components electronic voices are so jarring in this but also happy pride month to them.

The races are so clear in this compared to anything else

Greaseball keeps fumbling women left and right as always

I love you trucker CB

Dustin and Rusty are literally just doing a good job meanwhile the rest are being so dramatic.

THE ANALOG HORROR OF IT CUTTING OUT SOMETIMES

One rock and roll too many??

no what NO COMEBACK?!?

I did not know there was footage of no comeback omg

"OUGH!" you tell them Electra

Oh this verison of the song is so angry compared to the album ELECTRA IS PISSED good for them

I see where the grunting and moaning in later productions AC/DC came from now

The components slayed that good job, guys

I know what you are Caboose

I know what you are Greaseball

Oh, they already changed it too, "my pants are too tight" instead of shoes too woah

"And you've got no chance!" THEY CHANGED MORE LYRICS I DIDN'T KNOW OOOOOOO

I feel like in one rock and roll too many if I, an asthmatic, can do the long note at the end then it isn't long enough

Not that shorter versions aren't good i just think it's fun when it's ridiculously long how do they do that

GAY GAY GAY GAY USING EACHOTHER AS A SEAT GAY also cool choreography move

Pearl realizes she wants to smooch rusty

I think she's relatable cause yeah decisions hard and it takes forever to figure yourself out. She represents us indecisive people.

I love how happy she is he won! And how worried she was she made him lose breaks my heart. She was in danger but she still wanted him to win so bad! Even when she was racing with someone else!

STOP THEY KISSED AND IT CUTS OUT MORE

there kiss broke the camera

This control voice is good

Does the megamix exist in 1988??

Greaseball is hurt but CB and Electra are fine lmao I love this silly musical

S o r r r y - poor women fumbler 3000 can't even spell he's such a fumbler hes never had to

Poppa preaching

STOP IT CUT OFF LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

Other bits I didn't mention Ashley I love you I am sorry they killed you

Could not tell who but Greaseball and Dinah pushed two people off stage between pumping iron and freight is great ?

Why does Flat-top hate his dad's fuel type i need an explanation

My head canon is it's very much an ugh your so old and im cool and young and know way better and my cool grease goon friends are all diesels

I think they fight at family dinner about Flat-top doing rebellious teen things with the grease gang

Poppa is like you are 30 years old stop-

Okay, reactions over!

[batlcver]

❝'Course I'll read it.❞

Shaking his head as if that was ever gonna be a "no thanks" or a pass. Especially if Strawberry was going to have her little moment. He had to support both of them, and to see how the character she inspired was going to be. Even if he hadn't helped with the bat facts, and they had met some other way, he'd be interested. Vampires were his entire thing.

❝The show was really good, I need to watch the second season, I've been putting it off. I know they already announced the third season, but my brain is like "well, if you wait to watch it then the wait for the third season is shorter", which is true! But it also makes no sense, I'm waiting either way. I need to find some other vampires to fill my time with. There's that game, um, Evil West or something. That's what I've been playing. There's vampires in it, but I haven't gotten very far. A lot of the monsters in it that I've seen are just like weird abominations. Like test subjects almost, kinda like Frankenstein-ed together.❞

It was good! But it wasn't what he had been expecting. He was thinking like Van Helsing, the one Hugh Jackman was in, god what a movie, and it was... close. Kinda. In it's own way.

❝I don't know how I feel about it. I don't get to play it often since I've been working nights at the bar, on top of working at the conservatory, so it's just kinda there. Think today's the first day I've actually had time to do shit in like a week, so doing all this has been really fun.❞

Billie laughs again. "I suppose I can let it slide. A button-down is probably as formal as you'll need to get anyway."

After all, her events weren't big public parties like some of the other authors under her publishing house - due, in large part, to the anonymity she tried to hold so close.

"Mine aren't huge or anything - I think I mentioned that I write under a pseudonym, so I never do like signings or readings or stuff. They're usually just launch parties with my team, and maybe some of the other writers who publish from the same house that can be trusted to keep their mouth shut. You won't be expected to read the book, because only the team will have really. But I'll get you a copy when it's finished if you want one."

Him reading it at all would be super sweet - doesn't matter how long it took. Billie knows that what she writes is not to everyone's tastes, so if he ultimately decided not to, it wouldn't matter.

"That is a surprise. Different strokes, though, isn't that what they say? You're so right though, the Interview With a Vampire show was so good. And such good casting choices." This is paired with a dreamy sigh.

[s0fter-sin]

thinking about the way ghost doesn't hesitate to start killing shadows when graves betrays them but soap only takes one hostage

you can almost hear the voice in his head telling him it doesn't have to be this way; they can still talk it out

"i'm calling shepherd"

his first instinct when confronted with betrayal is to play it by the books: to go up the chain. that goes against everything we've seen him do. he bucks authority at every chance except for the one time he's confronted with the barrels of his allies' guns

he wants a peaceful resolution; for the first time we've ever seen, he doesn't want violence to be the answer. there has to be another fix, a solution that doesn't end with him killing the same men he's been working with; his friends

nothing's happened yet

it doesn't have to go this way

but ghost has been betrayed before. he knows the way this ends; either with him six feet under or his enemy

he doesn't hesitate

it's only when they knock alejandro out that soap shoots; when they spill the first blood and cross a line they can never come back from

only when ghost orders him to run and he has to cover his retreat

and somewhere along the line, between civilians’ screams and taunting voices, between his shaking breath and ghost steady in his ear, that naivety is stripped away; his trust turned to teeth that he uses to sink into throats of men he'd have given his life for

"be careful who you trust, sergeant; people you know can hurt you the most"

he's learned the price of trust

just like ghost did

but unlike ghost, he has someone to guide him through the aftermath

"good advice, It"

[shroomerr]

Finally, my design for Mysterion!! this boy gave me so much heartache in the process of making this but its ok its all worth it for him <3

I also couldn't choose between the version with hair or without hair, so here's the one without under the cut (+ my initial drafts for his design):

[la-principessa-nuova]

L - Lavender ❁ Gemma Laurence

A - Alice ❁ Elle Cordova

­

P - Part of Your World ❁ Jodi Benson

R - Reason for Living ❁ Morgan Page

I - I Am Not a Robot ❁ Marina

N - Numb ❁ Linkin Park

C - Cassiopeia ❁ Elle Cordova

I - I Can’t Stay the Same ❁ Vanessa Carlton

P - Panic Attack ❁ The Chats

E - Emotional ❁ Sarah Barrios

S - Short Skirt/Long Jacket ❁ CAKE

S - Sister, Don’t Cry ❁ Elle Cordova

A - Arsonist’s Lullaby ❁ Hozier

­

N - Naked in Manhattan ❁ Chappell Roan

U - Unwritten ❁ Natasha Bedingfield

O - Omokage ❁ milet, Aimer, and Lilas

V - Venus Fly Trap ❁ Marina

A - Anklebiters ❁ Paramore

Alright and then I’m tagging… 18 people? oh god… i’m just gonna go down my notifications and skip anyone prev tagged….

@tattle-tayler @lost-estradiographer @athena-turns-into-an-eagle @valuepack-catgirl @roman-cup @chubby-elf-hux @bodyhorror-bimbo @sagan42 @cat-tenyx @tuna-core @chipadip @33-3-a @gingertomcat @mangoesandapples @laika-the-church-grim @4-am-in-the-desert @silverofhope @puppydragongirltummynipples

ok… i think that’s 18…. wow

honestly considered changing my url to something shorter during this, lol

Tagged by @maj-spirals to spell out my URL using song titles; then tag as many people as there are letters in my URL (going to fail that)

J - Juna / Clairo

E - Everything Now / Arcade Fire

N - Neat Neat Neat / The Damned

N - No Pussy Blues / Grinderman

Y - You Need Me Now? / girl in red & Sabrina Carpenter

B - Brandy Alexander / Feist

B - Boom Boom / John Lee Hooker

A - Alternative Girlfriend / Barenaked Ladies

C - Can’t Be Still / illuminati hotties

K - Kaleidoscope / Chappell Roan

I’m tagging @sad-butt @lasmokingbunny @tuesy @themiserychic @la-principessa-nuova @lunasgayshit @starfruit-selections