#I was participating without even realizing

[anon-sect]

Can you do one where I piss off a fraternity/sports team so they transform me into a toilet bowl in the frat house/locker room?

Tim was hoping to join fraternity on campus, but since it was his first year, he couldn't join. But he would be allowed during his sophomore year. Just as promised, he was able to pledge during his second year of college. He was so glad to be pledging. During one of the rituals, all the new pledges had to get really plastered at one of the frat parties. He didn't like getting that drunk, so he refused to participate in the ritual with the others. The frat brothers picked on him for not participating.

Tim got so upset over how much they bullied him for not getting plasteredly drunk that he complained about it to one of the professors. As a result of the complaint, the frat was investigated and found in violation. Their activities were suspended for two years on campus.

The frat brothers were highly pissed off at Tim for snitching on them. They wanted to punish Tim for his actions in ruining their fun on campus. They came up with the perfect punishment.

Tim was invited by one of the frat brothers to come into the restroom. He had wanted to show him something. When he got there he found a stall in the bathroom with no toilet or urinal. He was curious as to why he was being shown this. He was suddenly shoved into the empty stall. He saw the frat brother holding up his phone. There was a quick flash.

Things suddenly felt weird for him. Tim found himself unable to move or speak. He began to panic as his mouth felt wide open. He saw the frat brother standing before him laughing. He wanted to protest but couldn't even speak a single thought he was thinking.

"You ruined our good fun, so we all decided to punish you for that. I turned you into a toilet. For the next two years, at least, this will be your purpose." The frat brother paused, with a smirk on his face. "If anyone asked about your whereabouts, we all decided we would deny knowing where you had gone. Yet secretly, we all know you are this toilet. And I promise you, no one will breathe a single word, text, or call about what you are on, punish of suffering the same fate." He paused again as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick. "Let my piss be the first you drink up." He laughed as he pissed in the new toilet. He flushed it and walked out, still laughing at his fate without a single care on who came next to use him.

Tim was mortified at his fate. He tried to scream for help, but his thoughts couldn't escape his mind or be vocalize. This was a horrible fate, one he would never want. The guy's piss tasted nasty as he was forced to swallow all of it. He thought it couldn't get worse. Tim soon found that to be wrong.

Tim saw one of the pledges approach him. He seemed to be smiling at him as though he knew what he was. "Sorry, but not sorry about this." He said as he sat down on his mouth. At first, he pissed, but then came the rest. Plop after plop fell into his mouth from the guy's naked butt. Tim mentally pleaded for him not to flush, but he was too late as it was pushed down. He was forced to swallow all of it. He also tasted all of it as well. He wanted to gag from the taste and foul odor as the guy left him there, just laughing at him. He realized this was his fate. He just hoped they would turn him back to normal after two years.

FIVE YEARS LATER......

Tim's mind was completely gone. They had forgotten that he was a toilet after one year. He had swallowed so much that all he was now was a dumb submissive toilet whose only purpose is to serve the frat house in getting rid of waste.

[sparklesdogs]

A Drabble for TF: One

First off: A warning.

This drabble WILL contain spoilers from TF: One. Everything that is a spoiler will be under the -keep reading- line. This, unfortunately, includes the summary because I couldn't think of any other way to describe what I'll be writing about.

And hey, if people enjoy this, maybe I'll write more? Can't help it, I love this type of AU and it was the first thing that popped in my head. Starscream's appearance SLIGHTLY made that AU-itch happy.

Summary: Something that D-16, Elita One, and Bumblebee didn't realize when they encountered the mecha-deer herd on the surface was that they had a care-taker.

Characters: D-16, Bumblebee, Elita One, Orion Pax

Background: In this AU, D-16 was more rebellious and participated in the race himself. Orion Pax does not exist in the mines. More will be explained in the drabble.

Without further adeu:

Cybertron's surface was truly beautiful. Despite the fear they initially felt from the unknown and the constantly shifting surface, when you took a moment to just look, you could see why everyone used to live there.

Mountains grew and disappeared in a blink. Old structures were hidden and unveiled in moments.

Wild turbo-foxes and mecha-deer hunted and grazed in the rolling fields. Cyber-wolves prowled along ridges, seemingly able to tell how the terrain would shift before it even began.

This was the surface that greeted D-16, Elita One, and Bumblebee after their train crashed.

Despite their initial crash from the unexpected tsunami of metal, it was stunning.

D-16 idly recalled the ancient texts that had been smuggled to him during his few breaks or right before recharge. He knew that, once, Cybertronians didn't need to hide underground. Back in the times of the original thirteen Primes, Cybertronians had been divided into tribes.

The ever-graceful Seekers. The quick and musical Polyhexians. The stern and no-nonsense Praxians. The violent, but mostly misunderstood Warframes. The Pullers who relished in hauling large objects long distances. And so on and so forth. All nomadic, following the mechanimals that drove their way of life. All avoiding each other. All destroyed in the original Quintesson War.

It was assumed that large cities like Iacon and Kaon arose when the thirteen joined together and ushered the remnants of their tribes underground. They each recognized that their own tribe would only be able to survive through co-operation. And so, the surface of Cybertron was abandoned.

But as the small trio stared out over the vast open spaces, D-16 couldn't help but wonder why nobody had ever bothered trying to return. Yes, Sentinel Prime had said that the surface was uninhabitable and it was too dangerous, but had no one ever actually tried to return?

Maybe it was because mechs started emerging cog-less. It was dangerous enough for mechs to survive WITH their cogs. What chance did a cog-less mech have? If they couldn't transform to speed away from danger or to evade a rapidly-changing landscape? Somberly, D-16 brushed a servo over the empty hole in his chest. Right where a cog would be in a mech that had one.

"They're so.. elegant." Elita One suddenly whispered, yanking D-16 out of his thoughts.

"And friendly too!" Bumblebee chuckled, somehow having gotten close enough to one of them to swipe a servo over it's flank. Even more surprisingly, the mecha-deer didn't move away or even seem startled by the action. In fact, it turned to nuzzle it's face into Bumblebee's servo and started snuffling around, as if looking for a treat. They reminded D-16 of the cyber-hounds that only the most elite of the elite owned in Iacon.

"Yeah. How.. strange." D-16 said, shifting forward to hesitantly pet the mecha-deer himself. Despite being made of metal, they were surprisingly soft on the head and wiry on the rest of the body.

Unbeknownst to the trio that was now excitedly petting the mecha-deer (who was greedily lapping up the attention), they were being watched by someone far less friendly.

A pair of light blue optics glared at the group from where they were hidden in a nearby uncovered set of ruins. The figure that belonged to the pair of optics had darted into the ruins to observe the group as they got closer. Their eyes darted between the herd and the group, clearly wanting to keep an eye on both.

Suddenly, the mecha-deer jerked their head into the air, no longer responding to the petting. The other deer and the hidden figure shortly followed. One after another, the lights on the mecha-deer's antlers started flashing red and they bolted. They scattered in many directions, much to the frustration of the hidden figure. If only he still had his cyber-hound. Now, it'll take forever to round them back up himself.

His optics snapped to the trio who was just staring after the herd. It was only when they finally turned around did they finally see the danger looming above the clouds. Poor mechs seemed confused and startled. They began to run towards the ruins.

How ineffective, the figure thought. Why not just transform and speed away?

As the group raced by, the figure reached out and grasped one of them (the small, yellow one he silently noted) and pressed him up against the wall. The other two (the pink one and the gray one) quickly took note and, even though they glared at him in suspicion, followed his action.

D-16 observed this new figure with suspicion and surprise. The figure was primarily red and blue with silver accents. The most startling part of him were his light blue optics and splatters of.. paint? that stood out against his primary colors. He had seen blue optics before, yes, but none as bright and light as these. The strange paint was mainly splatters of purple, green, and white. They marked the mech in elegant (but messy) swirls and symbols he had never seen before.

The mech put a digit up to his intake, indicating that the group should remain quiet. Since this new mech seemed to know more about what was going on than they did, they listened. Even though they didn't need to breathe, every bot present held their breath.

Suddenly, one of the mecha-deer darted into the ruins. Almost immediately, a red light beam from above began to track the deer. The new mech's engine started to quietly growl before he quickly cut it off. After a few seconds of tracking the deer, the small red beam burst into a blinding light. Each mech was briefly blinded. When they looked back where the deer had been, the deer was gone. What looked like bits of metal and energon were sucked into the sky and the air returned to silence.

A small distance from the ruins, a red grid emerged from the sky. The red and blue figure's optics widened and he began to usher the group towards one of the buildings that still had enough of a roof to cover them. The trio saw where he was shoving them and nodded, quickly and quietly starting to run. They had to avoid stray red beams occasionally, but Elita and D-16 made it over quickly.

Bumblebee, on the other hand, was slower and more clumsy. The red and blue figure clearly slowed themselves to keep pace with the ex-trash-sorter, but was looking more and more nervous as the grid grew closer.

Finally, clearly fed up with the slow pace, the figure swooped up Bumblebee into a bridal carry. Both Elita and D-16 were shocked that the small, lithe figure was able to lift Bumblebee, let alone without slowing his pace!

Right before the grid reached them, the figure lunged towards a narrow beam that covered a small patch of ruins. The figure clutched Bumblebee as close to himself as possible and both they and Bumblebee closed their optics as the grid slowly passed over them.

When nothing immediately happened, they cracked their optics open just to see as the grid completely passed over the beam. The figure kept Bumblebee clutched to their chest until the beam finally disappeared. Even after that, they continued to hold Bumblebee for a few kliks before letting the small yellow bot drop to the ground with a yelp.

The figure then turned very angry optics onto the entire trio.

"Who are you?! Why are you here? Do you have any idea what you just caused?! Now I have to move the herd again!" The figure started shouting, pointing his index digit at the group angrily.

Unfortunately for him, the trio did not understand his language at all and only heard what sounded like rather irate clicks, whistles, and beeps. When he realized that the group was just staring dumbly at him, his irritation turned to confusion.

"Um, hello? Do you understand me?" He asked, optical ridges furrowed.

"Uh, hello!" Elita, ever the go-getter, responded first with a wave. The figure simply tilted his head and managed to look more confused.

"Great. Cybertronians who don't speak basic." He mumbled to himself.

"Do you speak Iaconian?" Elita asked.

"I-uh-cone-ee-an?" The figure asked, testing out the word in his intake.

"Yeah, Iaconian. You know? What everyone in Iacon speaks." D-16 piped up. The figure's gaze turned to him.

"I-uh-con?" The figure asked, olfactory sensor scrunching as if the words had a nasty smell.

"Yup! That's where we're from! Iacon!" Bumblebee cheerfully added.

"So I'll take it that you don't speak it based on your reaction to words most mechs know." D-16 stated gruffly. The figure may not have known what he was saying, but he could certainly understand the tone. His gaze turned to a glare again. As he opened his intake and raised his index digit again to likely start lecturing the other, Elita piped up.

"Ok! How about introductions? I'm Elita One." She said, pointing to herself with a smile. "Elita One!" She repeated.

"I'm B-127 or Bumblebee, but I'm trying to make Badassatron a thing!" Bumblebee said. When the figure only looked at him more confused, he chuckled and rubbed the back of his helm. "Bumblebee." He said simply.

"D-16." D-16 said simply. When three sets of optics turned to him, the figure responded.

"I'm named after the constellation Orion, but sometimes the others call me Pax because they say I'm generally one of the peaceful ones." The figure chuckled to himself.

"So.. Orion Pax?" D-16 asked. The figure- newly dubbed Orion Pax- shrugged.

"Close enough."

Ending note: Whew! That's all I've got. Let me know if this sounds interesting. I welcome all critiques and comments. Will probably post this on my AO3 in the morning too. Probably.

[liminalpsych]

A very, very roughly sketched, unedited scene that wouldn't leave me alone this morning and demanded to be written (....oh hey @queer-ragnelle! I accidentally made a Lusty Month of May / May Day Parade contribution!):

The week they arrive at Sorelois. Perhaps even the day. Guinevere is half-mad with rage and grief, reeling from Arthur's betrayal, the loss of her marriage, of her court. It's the usurping of her entire life.

It makes her bold. It makes her want to be cruel. It makes her want to strike back or to take what she wants or to rebel in some small or large way. It makes her want to hurt Arthur in turn, or transgress since she has already been spurned from society and convicted for something for which she's innocent.

"There is something I wish to see," Guinevere says, there in the somber quiet of the receiving room with Lancelot, Galehaut, and Lady Bloie of Malehaut. An announcement to the air, undirected.

Lancelot responds first, of course, as expected. He kneels before her, the picture of earnest devotion. "Whatever you wish, my queen, I will strive my utmost to bring it to you."

Across the room, towering nigh to the ceiling even leaned against the wall as he is, Galehaut watches her with a carefully neutral expression. Unblinking, unsmiling, and there's the barest tightening around his eyes. He is wary of her still, and senses her mood.

The Lady of Malehaut is a different kind of unreadable entirely, lounging next to her with a spot of embroidery to keep her clever hands busy. Her full mouth is always a breath away from smiling, like she carries with her a trove of private amusements at all times. She observes from beneath half-lidded eyes, her needle flashing through cloth more by touch than sight.

Guinevere lifts her loyal knight's chin with a touch of her finger. His lips part, eyes wide and wondering. She smiles. "I want to you to give Galehaut a kiss."

Ah, if only she dared to watch Galehaut's expression in that moment! Yet she must keep her focus on Lancelot. His face pales. His breath catches in his throat. His pulse thrums against her finger like a trapped and frantic bird. "M-my queen?" he stammers, gaze darting side to side as if for an escape.

Her smile sharpens, serpentine. "Do you not wish to?"

"I— I am not—" He's breathing rapid and shallow now, on the edge of panic. It's a pretty quandary she's put him in, one with no known safe answer, and he's reeling under it.

(She feels more steady by the moment, her control re-establishing in the small sphere she still possesses.)

Galehaut steps forward. There's the edge of fury in his warning, in the creak of leather and the rattle of maille. "My lady," he rumbles.

Now Guinevere looks his way, and she lifts a graceful eyebrow at the storm in his countenance. Lancelot quivers beneath her touch, unmoored by the loss of her pinning gaze. "Will you tell me truly that you don't want this, Galehaut?"

He halts. His jaw works; the stormclouds thicken. He glares, proud and silent.

Guinevere laughs. It's a free, bell-like sound—as playful as a day a-Maying. Lancelot stills and his breathing steadies, soothed by her apparent merriment. She makes a show of taking pity on him, releasing his chin to stroke his cheek. "Do you wish to kiss me?" she murmurs, leaning closer.

His breath catches again, no different than before. He nods.

She kisses him, sweet and soft; he returns it with a small desperate sound against her lips. (It tastes like power.) He's breathless when she pulls away, and she smiles down at him, indulgent. "I know Galehaut desires a kiss from you as well," she says, "and he is the one who brought us together, yes?"

Another nod, and Lancelot seems more dazed than panicked now. Swaying towards her, and glancing shyly towards his boon companion, who draws a sharp bracing breath.

"It is not as if he's a lady," she says with a wink. "So it is not being untrue to me. And it is my request, is it not?"

"Y—yes, my lady...?"

"Do you not want to kiss him?"

"I..." Those expressive eyes flicker from her lips to Galehaut's and back again. His breath quickens again, but this time it is a little less panicked. "My lady, you ask hard questions," he says at last, helplessly.

She laughs again, darkened with satisfaction. "Kiss him, then," she commands, "and then tell me if you want to do it again."

"My lady," protests Galehaut, strained—oh, and there is longing so sharp that it is agonized, bare and naked in every rigid muscle and the aching furrow of his brow. He looks at Lancelot like a man starving. He looks at Guinevere like a man betrayed.

To give Galehaut what he so desperately desires, when he knows it is something she can take away at any moment? To receive a kiss from his Lancelot, but only on the order of Lancelot's lover-queen? For Galehaut to touch his companion in the way he desires, but only so long as Guinevere allows it, never knowing truly if Lancelot would have initiated on his own, never being certain of Lancelot's desire?

It's a power like none she's ever wielded before.

Lancelot stumbles to Galehaut on unsteady legs with a last hesitant glance over his shoulder. Guinevere smiles encouragingly and nods her approval. One last nudge—and still, Galehaut could refuse Lancelot. Galehaut is sworn to neither Guinevere nor Arthur; he needs not obey her. Galehaut could save the last unconquered edges of his heart and maintain this last barrier of distance. He could still refuse himself what he wants so badly.

Galehaut tenses, and Galehaut wavers, and Galehaut's heaves great draughts of air as if he's in the thick of a melee.

Lancelot reaches out, and Galehaut surrenders.

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[pumpkinnby]

.

[eorzeashan]

Jadus in Eight's story becomes one with the Force voluntarily; on the night he realizes the future is cataclysmic and his answers lie off the mortal plane, he steps into the nothingness and departs, losing his physical form, free to contemplate and be greater than the sum of his whole.

Eight sees him off without much ceremony. It's part of his boundless affection for Jadus that spurs him to keep seeking out greater experiences and journeys to bring back to his lord who can no longer partake of these activities himself, formless as he is, and together they unravel the meaning of the universe in every gifted memory and experience gleaned from Eight's mind, whether torn from or offered freely.

Jadus weighs his suffering and his joy, his fear and his courage--and continues to covet the insignificance of a life born as a speck amongst countless stars.

He is endless, his dear companion finite. He expands as far as fear can be carried. There remains no corner of space untouched by the tapestry of his power. Yet it is gently cupped like a sieve of water in the palm of his Hand where his heart lies, a once-great devourer brought low by the simple care of a man who loved him.

[mis-calculated]

It has been day one of my fourth summer at my job and jesus christ why are neurotypical people obsessed with doing multiple, very uncomfortable, mandatory ice breaker activities as part of "work"

[afniel]

One of those moments where I once again find myself dearly missing 2015-era pagan and magic(k)al Tumblr while also realizing it can basically never be that way again and maybe shouldn't be, because it was the wild fucking West of drama and wacky shit happening, but it sure did have non-stop entertainment value too.

[spurgie-cousin]

sometimes it feels like a lot of snark communities just like to hate people for the sake of hating people, and not just criticizing for them for doing wrong. in one community, a family is handling a child's grief fairly well, but they are making memes about the parents being messy at the funeral.

Oh 100%, a lot of people use it as an excuse to just be cruel for the sake of it, whether it's bc they're insecure or angry or whatever, I definitely think more people than not use it as a way to vent. It's a fine line obviously because there are a lot of perfectly valid criticisms about fundamental Christianity in particular, but I also think we need to check ourselves every once in a while to make sure we're not just using the label 'fundie' as a license to treat someone like they're not a real person.

I think if you're finding yourself at the point of calling grieving parents messy though (and making MEMES about grieving parents, jfc) you're probably in too deep and need to reevaluate your choices.

[c0rpsedemon]

ok next time i talk about jaubrey as if it's a real thing that's out there with multiple acts and is about to start wrapping up it's final arc when i haven't even started to write tiffany yet and also only know what half it's characters look like, take me out back and shoot me like a lame horse, that being said, nonzero chance that (at least) years after jaubrey is over and done with i'll make a jehanne spinoff

[blackbeardsemophase]

.

[hovkinnie]

pro tip do not look at shit ur parents share on social media. try smoking a pack of cigarettes instead

[ambros1an]

sunday x reader - halovian courtship

warning: no spoilers, gn! reader, pining/soft sunday, Sunday info dumping as usual

summary: where Sunday will do everything except confess, and you just think he’s emotionally stunted.

a/n: i read about birds for this

halovian courting rituals

1. Gift giving. Like their close bird companions, Halovians participate in 'nuptial gifts,' a form of gift giving to a potential partner.

You were walking into the Oak Family Headquarters, Dewlight Pavilion, sent to deliver some letters. Although, you’ve been here before, it was still a bit nerve wracking to be in such a place, undetached from your usual position as a lower end employee.

The entrance to Oak Family Head’s office was right in front of you. You bite your lip, shifting the documents to your other arm and knock.

“Nightingale Famil-“

The door swings open. The family head holding the door stands to the side.

“Ah,” Sunday says your name, “it’s you.”

Your eyes widen, blinking a couple times. He remembers me?

“Yes, it’s nice to see you again Mr. Sunday. I’ve come with documents from the Nightingale family detailing a new plan for the dreamscape.”

He looks a bit disappointed?

He chuckles, then calls out to a lone employee, “you’re dismissed for today, I’ll take care of the rest.”

The Oak employee dips his head and leaves. Watching him leave fills a pit in your stomach.

“Mr. Sunday, is something wrong?”

Sunday sits up suddenly, “Oh, no. Not at all.” It’s that movement that makes you realize that he’s been fidgeting with something in his lap…Is he always like this?

“I guess I was just a bit surprised,” he smiles, looking down to the side. You caught him.

“Surprised? To see me?” Although Sunday and you have met a few times. It was always business, just like now—well maybe he did stare a bit intently at you before, but something really was different this time!

He looks up and sheepishly slides a box across the table. “Take it as…being a good part of The Family.”

For a few moments, your eyes set upon him. What is he planning? It’s a small box. Almost nothing could fit in there. You lift the top up.

You gasp. Earrings worth more than your entire life’s salary. You slam it shut.

“M-Mr. Sunday. This really isn’t necessary. I just—“ you ramble on. Sunday places his gloved hand on yours.

“Please, take it.”

Looking into his eyes, you realize that putting up a fight with the Oak Head won’t get you anywhere. You reluctantly take the box.

2. Preening. Similar to nature, touching a Halovian's wings is an intimate gesture to show one's interest in a romantic partner. Someone should never touch a Halovian's wings without asking!

Soon after, you come across Sunday again. This time at the Nightingale Family’s institution. You were putting away blueprints, plans and documents your coworkers left laying around haphazardly. When a familiar voice calls out to you.

“Good evening. Working hard, I see.”

“Mr. Sunday?”

He approached you, then looked around the room. He seemed to realize the situation you were in and scorned your coworkers. He mumbled something about you and moving to the “Oak Family.” As he spoke his wings were fluttering. They looked smooth and soft.

“You’ve been staring at my wings. Do they interest you that much?” He chuckles.

“Well, they are very pretty but—“

“Would you like to touch them?” A light blush spreads across his face. Despite that, he seemed perfectly poised. His hands clasped behind his back, standing straight and looking right at you.

“I-is that alright?” tumbles from your lips. You hesitantly reach out.

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

Upon touching them, Sunday’s wings twitched away from you before settling down. The feathers are soft and plush. Some are darker in color while others are more pale. They’re surprisingly fluffy. A bit like fur but more delicate.

The blush darkened, his gaze shifted off to the wall. His composure utterly broken, his hands fidgeted behind his back.

“Did you know that birds groom each other as a social activity? It occurs between…ma-members of a flock.” He sputters. What is he saying?

Your fingers stroking his feathers create a flutter within his stomach. He leans into the touch. Taking that as a sign to continue, you reach farther up, a light brush into the coverts of his feathers. Sunday gasps and pulls away.

“…You must take good care of them. Are all Halovian wings soft like yours?”

He wishes that moment would never end.

3. Song. During courtship rituals many birds of different species tend to sing and dance. While that is popular among Halovian people, some may chose show affection through instruments instead.

One day, a notice appears at your door. Upon examining it you realize it’s an invitation from Sunday, instructing you to his office within the Dewlight Pavilion.

Could it be about the documents you sent him last time? You wrack your brain for any possible explanation. He had been acting weirder than usual.

Heat build up in your face upon recalling Sunday’s recent appreciation for you. The earrings that are far too expensive to wear anywhere, and even worse—you bury your face into your hands. In a profound display of unprofessionalism, he let you touch his wings.

Still, every muscle in your body jittered with excitement, even though it shouldn’t.

♫ ♬ ♩

Suddenly, the closer you got, the more the hallway echoed with the sound of a violin. Slowly, you carefully stepped towards the sound, till you found its source.

Sunday was playing the violin. You couldn’t help but freeze where you were and watch him. He truly did look like angel. As he drew his bow across the strings, the light from the window shined down on him. His hair reflected the light appearing almost white. Was he always this beautiful?

Abruptly, he stands up, “You’re early. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” you closed the door behind you, “I didn’t know you could play. What song was it?”

He places the violin down on his table and approached you, “It’s ‘Salut d’amor,’ one of the first pieces I learned how to play,” Sunday put his hand behind his back, “the dream master was the one that taught me.”

“It was very pretty, I can tell you’ve been playing for a long time.”

“Thank you.” A light blush spreads onto his cheeks, but it’s gone before you can realize it.

A loud silence sweeps the room. The two of you avert your eyes. This side of Sunday feels so different from what you’ve been told. He always maintains a professional barrier. But if so, what was this?

Sunday calls your name, “how do you feel about me?”

“What?” The question is so out of the blue, you must’ve heard wrong, “I think you’re a nice guy—“

“I meant as a partner, I thought you knew. Was I not obvious enough?” He mumbles over the last sentence.

“I—well—“ you stumble over your words. He was serious. The earrings, the wing touching, the invitation. You dismissed it as him buttering you up. The ‘most handsome man in Penacony’ as delegated by the latest magazines, had feelings for you?

Your face felt so hot, you felt as if you could combust into flames at any moment, “I feel the same.”

His expression softened. “That’s a relief, I don’t have to cancel those reservations then.”

“Reservations?! Mr. Sunday-“

“Just Sunday. I’ll pick you up later then,” he smiled, then placed his hand near your ear, as if looking for something, “Oh, but this time remember to wear those earrings.”

a/n #2: soft Sunday is real, did u see how protective he was of Robin in the quest? i need more hoyo. feed my delusion

[screampied]

NO NUT NOVEMBER ☆ JJK MEN

gojo, nanami, toji, getō, choso, jujutsu kaisen men & how long can they last during nnn

2.7k+ ☆ total wc ☆

☆ tags ☆ afab!reader. overstim , edging , dry humping , unprotected sex , oral [f] , orgasm-denial , semi-public sex , dirty talk , choking , dumbification kink, brat taming.

FAILED NOV. 1 ☆ GOJO SATORU

poor gojo fails on the first day immediately. he's so cocky once you suggest you two should try it—see which one breaks first and it's obviously gojo. you walking around in a sundress was just about enough for him to forget about the entire challenge.

“you really don’t think i’ll last for the entire month?” gojo says, and he’s just following you around. it’s november first and he’s already losing it. the pretty sundress that hung down you, practically and barely reaching your ass made him ten times hornier. “pft. please. i can last the whole month without—” and then he stops mid-sentence at the realization, and his lip quivers a bit whilst he’s rubbing himself against you from behind. “…can't i at least.. touch you, baby?”

“no,” you spoke, letting off a gasp once he bends you straight over the kitchen counter. all it took was for gojo to pull up your sundress a few inches towards your waist, and he nearly lets off a needy moan once he sees you’re wearing no panties. “you can last a month satoru. it's not that long.”

“hey ‘s not fuckin' fair,” he groans, and he’s so close propped up against you. his bulge hardens against you, he’s only wearing simple grey sweats and he slides his hands against your waist. “planned this all out, d-didn’t you,” and he lets off a low breathy sigh. “there's no rule sayin' i can’t bend ya over like this,” he speaks, his voice sounding whiner by the second—you gasp once he squeezes your ass, feeling his thumb brush against your slit. “is there, baby?”

gojo couldn't help himself. once he had you bent over, you now found yourself in mating press with him being pumped full over and over again. a day hasn’t even passed and he already lost—to be fair, in his defense it was your fault for walking around in a pretty short sundress that nearly showed the bottom parts of your ass.

“s-so nice ‘n warm f’me.” he’d pant again and again, having you in quite the position to where you’re laid flat on your back, his own cum is so much it’s oozing out of your pussy. your grip onto his wrist tightens as he dips his hips in and out, you’re moaning from his thrusts—already forgetting about the stupid dumb challenge you suggested for you and your boyfriend to participate in.

to think of going one month without being intimate with gojo.

“s-satoru,” you moaned, and his base just smacks just smacks and smacks against you. you're so dizzy, craving more of his sticky load by the second, desperately wanting to be even more full. it was such a mess between your legs. he’s panting and staring at you with that same hungry feral gaze, swiping a tongue across his sheeny lips—gojo leans in to kiss you hard, yet more so passionate. he’s moaning and whining into your mouth while preparing to cum again and he’s so sensitive. he can barely think straight. “m-mhm.”

your body is basically being fucked dumb into the fats of the silkened mattress. gojo’s weight hovers against yours as his cock thrusts in and out, giving you whiplash so good to where it has you digging your pretty nails into the pale roots of his arm.

“not finished with you,” he pants, his eye-lids were low, and he was still panting up a storm once he pulls out for a brief moment. gojo stares down at the mess he create—licking his lips once more before leaning down to briefly lick a little of his own cum from your thighs before letting off a sigh. “we… can try again next year, y-yeah?”

FAILED NOV. 3 ☆ CHOSO KAMO

choso would have honestly failed on the first day too, but he has a bit more self control which is surprising. he's a very needy man not to mention quite clingy too. three days felt so long for the poor guy though. three days without cumming inside—he'd go mad. so he had to improvise.

“just a taste princess, just a…taste,” he’d pant, staring at you with such intent. you’re just lying down on the bed, glancing back up at him while rubbing a hand over your tummy before smiling. “don’t look at me like that.”

“choso it’s only been three days,” you giggle, reaching for his hand and he was so warm—he lets off a soft moan just from your touch alone, so touch starved and it hasn’t even been that long.

a big baby.

but eventually, he was so cute and you gave in. choso didn’t even want to fuck you. all he wanted to do was please you, more than please himself. but he does end up pleasing himself just a tad bit. you getting off gets him off if that makes sense. the raven-haired man was propped securely between your legs, his tongue latched onto your sweet cunt, lapping it up continuously while his moans fanned against you—making you create out tiny whines and moans yourself.

“s-so good, so hungry,” he whines, and choso can’t help but reach into his black and white boxers, stroking himself. he couldn’t help it, just hearing your sweet noises was enough to make him cum right through his sweatpants. “drivin’ me s-so insane.”

“fuck choso,” you whimper, some long strands of his hair tickles and brushes against your thighs, he’s so sloppy too. making sure to spit on your pussy only to clean it up. choso wasn’t never fond of his pretty baby to be messy. he’s so into it, his lashes remained closed as he ate you out, continuing to stroke his dick—moaning right into your folds, eventually your slick drips down his chin and he’s craving more and more. “don’t stop, your tongue feels so g-good, baby.”

“praise me more,” he whines, giving you a brief stare, his eyes opens for a second and his eyebrows raise down and furrow. a cute saddened expression of how wanting and needy he was. “want you to tell me how good ‘m makin’ you feel, gorgeous.”

you’re panting heavily from his tongue and how deep it reaches, each suck and slurp he creates before you dig your fingers through his hair to make him maintain eye contact. “you’re so good, choso. you’re making me feel so good.”

“….oh, s’ all i want, pretty,” he sighs, giving the front part of your pussy a sweet kiss before dragging a single orgasm out of you.

FAILED NOV. 9 ☆ FUSHIGURO TOJI

you make toji fail because you’re just…horny. toji believe it or not, toji could last a few days of nnn despite being an actual walking sex-machine. it was your idea, but now you regret it. it makes his ego boost tremendously seeing how you couldn’t take it anymore, such a cock hungry girl.

“toji!” you’d pout, desperate for him to at least touch you at least—but no, he was busy occupying himself by working out. raising the hefty bench pressed up and down, he looked so good. and he was just ignoring you. a smirk lightly pressed against his lips as he lifts the gym equipment up and down, counting his sets in his head and you bit your lip.

you had to do something, you couldn’t wait. it’s been nine days, you were sitting on toji’s lap. specifically, his hard bulge that was poking through his grey gym shorts. “yes baby,” he speaks, acting as if you weren’t squirming on his lap, so desperate to get him off.

“i need you,” was the only pathetic words leaving your lips, and he watches as you slide your hands up his white tank tee, brushing your fingertips against his abdomen—his rock hard abs just flexing, a bit sweaty and you nearly moaned. “so bad. sosobad. fuck me please. ‘s was a stupid idea.”

“tch. ‘bout damn time. and ya said i’d break first,” he chuckles, setting the black dumbbells aside to their original position. “mm. at least y’er aware. now now, be a good girl ‘n take those filthy panties off f’me.”

you whined, thankful you wore a skirt so all you had to was really slip your panties off—you stare down at toji as you’re riding him and he’s still laid flat on his back on the gym bench. at least it wasn’t many people around but they’d still probably see you. but from anyone’s perspective, it’d look like a silly girl on her boyfriend’s lap for whatever reason.

“s-shit,” you moaned, feeling his cock expand deep just from his girth alone. it was so good, it nearly had you drooling. toji’s fat dick was something you could never get enough of. it stretched you out so good—it was indescribable to say how great it made you feel, your pussy yearned for more each time, your mouth grows dry as you grind your hips against him. and he’s just staring at you with his toned arms are just smugly pinned behind his back, watching you have the time of your life. “s’big toji. fuck.”

“ya know how to take it every time though, doll,” he grunts, bringing a hand towards your waist to somewhat guide your movements. you whimper once he brings a hard smack to your ass once he feels you start to slow down, he’s so big, his tip kisses against deep inside of your pussy and you’re so dizzy, you can’t even speak words. “fuckin’ whore-” he groans, and you end up making toji cum quicker than he thought he would—it shoots right inside you, his head goes back for about two seconds and it’s sexy, you can see his adams apple just briefly.

“better savor that shit,” he grumbles, watching you catch your breath yourself, and he brings two fingers and dips them inside your pussy before letting off a grunt. “should make ya lick my fingers clean. bet you’d like that, little slutty girl,” and he gives you a brief head pat while you’re pushed into his chest, panting over and over. “yeah ya fuckin’ would.”

FAILED NOV. 18 ☆ SUGURU GETŌ

geto could last long, but everything changed once you decided to tease him a bit too much. sending him videos of you touching yourself while he’s out at work or busy. he comes home to you—and he just can’t take it anymore.

geto’s breath shakes once he holds his phone in one hand, seeing you on the screen—only in your bra and panties, sliding a hand up and down your body. his eyes trail and observe every inch, his mouth dry a bit, wishing you were with him right now. “suguru baby, you miss me?” you’d say in the video recording, dragging your fingertips further and further down until you eventually stopped at the very hem of your panties. “it’s been eighteen days since you last touched me.”

“yeah…” he pants, knowing you obviously can’t hear him, but he wished you could. so bad. “miss you so bad, princess. miss your pussy.”

“remember, you can’t touch yourself to me either. or cum until the month ends, okay? love you.” and the video clip ends. of course, he watches it at least seven more times—nearly cumming his pants just at the sound of your voice alone.

geto groans, feeling the bulge in his pants strain staggeringly get bigger and bigger. once he finally gets home, he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

you were already waiting for him on the bed, with a sly smile—geto's quick to pick you up and kiss you all over, staring with your lips and your neck. “the tip, just the tip. swear. jus’ gotta feel you baby. feel your warmth.”

“fine,” you smile, already making your way onto him. geto tells you at least ten shaky thank you’s once you’re hovering over his cock—geto looks so pretty underneath you, his hair covers his face and he starts whining once you’re doing as promised, just the tip. “what’s wrong, do you want more than that?”

“yeah but baby, you’re gonna make me c-cum.” he moans, feeling you start to sink down lower until your hips rocks against him and he lets off a soft whimper by accident. “damn, just like that. ride me baby. make me cummm,” and his voice is so smooth but shaky, his dark pretty eyes nearly rolls back and it’s so sexy, he’s so sensitive he keeps swallowing and bracing himself before within seconds—geto ends up shooting white ropes inside, you feel his dick twitch as he’s still spasming, it’s been so long and his load is so much.

“shit.” he whines, leaning in to kiss you and he ends up moaning in your mouth once you return the kiss. “saved- saved s’much for you, baby,” he moans, grabbing ahold of your hips, making you continue to rock against him—only before he grips your waist, and starts to make you slam onto him and you whined, completely taken aback. “gotta remind this pussy who it really belongs to though.”

FAILED NOV. 30 ☆ NANAMI KENTO

nanami's the only one of the few who can actually go an entire month, although he just about barely makes it. he comes home from a long day at work and he’s just so pent up and stressed. all he can think about is using you as his personal cum dump.

“you don’t know how hard it was to not—” and he pauses, having you lied flat on your back, using a single hand to pry your pretty legs open. you shiver from feeling the cold band of his watch brush against your thighs. “woman, you torture me, you know that?”

you whimper from feeling him slowly sink himself inside—he’s staring down at you and his weight presses against your ass, he groans once he goes in and out, he’s teasing you. his cock was so thick, it stretches you out in every shape or form. your pussy hugs and grips him tightly, and he just can’t help himself. “kento, cum in me p-please,”

“thought you said i couldn’t cum until december first, sweetheart,” he says in a low voice, it’s almost seductive by the sounds of his pronunciation. nanami’s just sliding his tip in and out, it’s leaking with some of his own pre-cum, and he lets off a chuckle once he hears your cute whine of frustration. “this is your little game, i’m just playing by the rules.”

“didn’t mean it,” you cry out, so needy for him to fuck you. he was so warm, so so warm, your eyebrows parted together in annoyance and you bit your lip at him sinking a few inches inside your tight needy cunt before pulling out again. “kento please. fuck me, cum-cum in me, i need it.”

“oh, i know,” he breaths, and you gasp once you feel him spank your ass before rubbing it softly. nanami groans—swiping his fat reddened tip against your throbbing hole, spitting on his hand before rubbing it against your entrance to make you whimper, then spanks your pussy. “to think i haven’t touched this pretty body for a damn near month. you only ended up torturing yourself, sweetheart. can’t last a day without me filling this sloppy cunt up,” and as he’s talking, you’re growing more and more dizzy. you’re practically drooling from how needy you were.

and he dumbs his words down just a tad bit for you, his voice grows low once he leans up close to you purposely, wrapping a hand around your throat as his weight pressed against your ass. “tell me,” he whispers. “say the words and i’ll overflow your pussy with everything i have, pretty girl.”

“please kento, need your cum. need it so bad. fill me up please. breed me.”

“anything for my girl.” he kisses the top of your head, stroking a thumb against the middle part of your neck before stuffing two fingers of his into your mouth—he didn’t expect you to suck on them, but you did, whining and whining over and over again once he starts to thrust inside of you. he’s slow but his strokes are deep, and it’s so romantic. “that’s it, jus’ relax for me. let me claim these walls, then i’ll claim your heart next.”

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ i'll give you the fire i keep inside ❞

up to the challenge : ⌞no nut november⌝ edition [ pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 4 ]

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : gojo satoru + geto suguru

☾₊‧⁺...cw : pussy eating, praise kink, begging, premature ejaculation, clothed sex, whiny reader (gojo), smug reader (geto), satoru overestimating himself, suguru 'just the tip' geto

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : it's nowhere near november, but i need to write this. it's based off an old post of mine from 4 years ago! so, i have no excuse 🖤

✧ g. satoru lasts : 2 days

oh, satoru is so confident that he'll easily make it through the entirety of november. the moment he coos to you about how excited he is to participate in 'no nut november' as a challenge against suguru, he's walking around with his chest puffed out. however, he doesn't take into account that you'd be a little upset after he tells you, thinking you have to go a whole month without sex with your boyfriend. but everyone knows satoru is the best boyfriend, right? he'd neeeever let his pretty lil' mochi feel unsatisfied. so, on the second day of November, he's got you up on the kitchen counter, mouth buried between your thighs as he practically devours your cunt, messily licking and sucking at your clit as his eyes roll back just from the taste of you. after all, there's no way he'd lose this way!

it had only been two days since satoru had fucked you, how were you this wet and needy? you were dripping down his chin, soaking his fucking face, and god, he was in heaven. "c'mon, baby, grind that clit into my mouth," he fucking whines, kissing your pussy between slurps, hands holding you spread open for him to keep testing you. satoru's so hard, it hurts, his cock rubbing and twitching against the rough fabric of his sweatpants, but he couldn't touch, he wouldn't let himself. he'd be fine, all he needed was to make sure he made his baby cum. "hhf, 't-toru, 'toruuuu, i-i miss you, i miss youuu," you pitifully whine, pretty eyes filling with tears as you grew closer and closer to cumming all over his face. but just hearing you say that you miss him when it hasn't even been a fucking week almost makes satoru cum, almost. "baby, babyyy, don't say that shit," satoru whimpers, about to pull away from your dripping slit, dizzy from your words. but you don't let him, no, not when you're this close. with the cutest little huff, you look him right in his pretty blue eyes and grab a fistful of his hair, smashing his mouth right back against your cunt as you cry his name. and oh, the noise he lets out against your pussy feels so gooddd, feeling his tongue desperately licking up your cum. god, you were practically suffocating him. all that Satoru could process was you, you, you. jesus, he didn't think he'd be able to leave you alone the rest of the month, not when just going two days got you this desperate...he really was fucking you that good that you got addicted, huh? it's okay because honestly? he missed your pussy so fucking much. "'toru, satoruuu, p-please, i-i don't like this challenge anymore, miss when you stuff me w-with your cum," you whine as you ride out the last waves of your orgasm, giving him one last tug into your pussy so his mouth was right over your clit. have you always been this fucking whiny and demanding? god, satoru couldn't remember. but, you didn't realize how seriously all the tugging and those filthy, desperate words of yours would affect him. hell, he didn't know how badly it would affect him. once he separates himself from you, he's avoiding eye contact, and he's getting red. embarrassed. flustered. all it took was a quick glance down to see what the issue was. "b-baby, you...i just...how—" "'toru, did you cum in your pants?"

✧ g. suguru lasts : 2.5 weeks

the only reason suguru decided to participate in this was because satoru roped him into it. not that he didn't think he could do it, but because he knew satoru was going to lose against him. he's so thankful that you're nothing but supportive, eager for him to win this challenge with the promise of a reward of his choosing once he made it to December 1st. it's honestly not that hard. as long as he's able to still be affectionate with you, suguru is content. sure, sometimes he has to stop his imagination, but otherwise, he's fine. at least, that's until he comes home to you wearing the cutest purple thigh highs with little skulls on them. it starts off with suguru pulling you closer, making you stand between his legs as his hands rub up and down your plush thighs...but next thing you know, your legs are over his shoulders as he drags his cock up and down your slit.

"just—just the tip, okay? i can't put anymore in, princess." "suguruuuuu, just! put it in! stop teasing!" those pretty legs of yours would always be his downfall, suguru could never resist them. there wasn't anything even sexual about it, but just seeing how they squeezed your thighs so perfectly...he couldn't help himself. but if he only let himself put the tip of his dick inside that tight little hole of yours, he'd be fine...yeah, he just needed a small feel, and he'd be fine. without any more hesitation, suguru slowly sunk into your puffy pussy, letting out a shaky groan as his head fell down onto your shoulder. shit, shit, shit, it was only the tip, but you felt so good, too fucking good. "g-god, why's this cunt so wet and warm, baby? it's not fair," suguru hissed, lifting his head to look down to where you both were connected. "s'not my fault you wanted to do this dumb challenge," you hummed, a little smug smile on your face. "stop listenin' to satoru, you'll get stupid like him." it made him laugh, you were so amused by him barely holding himself together...and he couldn't blame you, he wasn't the type to break so easily... "s-suguruuu, wait, you said just the tip, that's—suguuuu!" suguru let out the most scandalized gasp when he realized his entire cock was being hugged by your soft, hot walls. it was so cute, though, how you tried to help him, to let him know so he didn't lose. such a sweetheart, weren't you? but, suguru was too far gone. he had slowly begun inching himself inside of you, not even realizing it until it was too late. not being able to stop his hips from moving, thrusting in and out of you, creating a little ring of cream around the base of his cock as his dick dragged against those soft spots inside you that made you keen his name. "oh, princess, angel, you're so sweet, you know that? s-shit, listen to that pussy...she missed this? she missed the feeling of her sugu inside? hm? fuuuck, fuck it, 'm-'m gonna give you what you need, baby, d-don't worry," he says in a needy rasp, pressing his forehead against yours, giving you a delirious little grin. yeah, suguru knew he was going to lose today...he'd be damned if he didn't cum all over this sweet cunt. all because of some stupidly cute socks.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[rinkkuma]

୨୧ FALLING ALSEEP ON JJK BOYS

ft. satoru gojo, yuta okkotsu, suguru geto, yuuji itadori, & megumi fushiguro

tags. gn!reader, all fluff ! / author's note. second thursday without jjk i think im going insane…. leaks are back tomorrow though im so scared.

SATORU giggles and coos in his head because of how cute you look with your head on his shoulder. (a few slip out loud though) pulls you in a little closer by the waist and gently places his head on top of yours. he sighs contently before taking a few photos, and maybe or maybe not setting it as his wallpaper. after a while, he gets worried about the strain on your neck since you'll probably be asleep for the night a while, he carefully moves your head onto his lap. satoru then covers you up with a blanket before running his fingers through your hair as he closes his eyes.

YUTA is terrified to move. (even to breathe, matter of fact) not because he's uncomfortable, but because the poor boy is scared to wake you up on accident. after calming himself down, he then nearly stops breathing again when he realizes you're wearing his hoodie. a few minutes later after he actually calms himself down, he carefully pulls you closer and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. sooner or later, yuta gets sleepy himself and tucks the two of you under the warm covers with the soft patter of the rain in the background. (he takes like a solid 10 minutes to place a pillow under your head because he's doing it so slowly and carefully)

SUGURU presses soft kisses all over your face to further lull you to sleep. he simultaneously rubs circles on your back to further assure that you're comfortable. brushes any stray pieces of hair that go in front of your eyes, (not that you would care or know anyways since you're asleep) and just admires your face. he cups your face with his hands and fights the urge to kiss your face this time to make sure you don't wake up. when it gets late into the night, he ever so carefully carries you into the bedroom. he feels terrible when he has to wake you up to change into your pajamas or to do your skincare. when he has to though, he insists on doing your skincare with gentle care. and hands

YUUJI squeezes you impossibly close to him. your head is rested on his chest, with his steady breath soothing you. you had fallen asleep while you, yuuji, megumi, and nobara were having a movie night in yuuji's dorm. nobara immediately starts wiggling her eyebrows and starts whistling before yuuji decides to kick her and megumi out of his room. (megumi has no clue why he's being kicked out too since he did not participate in nobara's activities, but he's used to it at this point) with you in his arms and head on his chest, and the remote on the opposite side of the bed from him is a recipe for disaster. after multiple attempts of trying to grab the remote to turn off the tv, (he even tries using his foot) he huffs and eventually gives up and closes his eyes, hugging you tight.

MEGUMI is not phased at all. numerous people have told him his shoulder was comfortable to lay on. (those people being yuuji and nobara) the second that you tell him this, he declares to not let anyone lay their head on his shoulder but you. he immediately puts his phone down and slowly pulls you into his arms, and lays you down on the couch since he knows sleeping sitting up isn't the ideal napping position. he is always a little hesitant to stroke your cheek or touch your face whenever you're sleeping, but he always ends up doing it anyways because of how cute you look, and thankfully you never wake up. (at least he thinks and hopes)