#2 down. thousands to go

[panspy]

correcting inappropriate uses of "trauma bond" one podcast at a time

[krysmcscience]

Call this the Whoopsie AU (it's barely an AU)

I mean. Narinder never explicitly SAID the Lamb would stay dead... :3c He probably should have been more specific. >:3c

Part Two:

Well. The Lamb tried, but...sorry, Nari, the crown hates you now. Shouldn't have been so quick to lend it out, I guess. :D

Aaaand Part Three:

'Isn't he just adorable?' -The Lamb, probably, while their followers smile and nod and internally scream at the brand new hellcat they now have to share living space with...

Anyway, nothing says 'Dead To Me' like following a person around to loudly remind them of how dead they are to you. Right? Right. Narinder's got this all figured out. <:]

[puppet-limbo]

Hi it's like 11:30pm and I accidentally made myself emotional over the thought of PNF-404 mourning and grieving and missing a time when humans still lived on it, even if not all of those times were amazing. And when Olimar and everyone else starts crashing on it throughout the series (it tries to guide them down but when people resist and fight it then all goes terribly wrong despite it trying to lead them down relatively safely) it's delighted to see people again and while it won't hand them a super easy time, it knows they're capable of overcoming anything and is genuinely proud to see how they've all come along after all this time by the time of Pikmin 4

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

Clicking on a M.oshi Monsters iceberg video that I didn't care much for but decided to click on the person's channel to see if they uploaded a video afterwards cause at the end of the video they jokingly said "100 likes and I'll buy my weight in merch" and haha that's funny, just to see five days ago they posted a teaser about whether M.oshi Monsters was up to something or not because apperently they released Moshi Play on the app store(which as far as I'm aware is just the same minigames in Moshi Sleep) and got a Tiktok account that they started putting videos on and rereleased the music Rox album on their socials and are making a bunch of teasing comment replies about being up to making something wasnt. I wasnt ready for that. Where did that come from. Hm. They. They even commented on said video taht i just watched. Which was released like five days ago and only has like 500 views.

[jentlemahae]

some people care more about getting a hit tweet than about respecting victims

[cerealmonster15]

Hi Cereal! Hope

Your day is going well so far! 9 and 15 for the fic asks? :)

HI ISA THANK YOU!!! i was waiting til i got home to answer!

9: How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I can't really remember EXACTLY, but back when i was a child in the early 2000s days of internet and on neoseeker forums, i liked seeing stories people would write in the forums dedicated to more creative things, be it fanfic or original stories. i read fics on ffnet, and my cousin even wrote some harvest moon fics that my other cousin and i would read and talk about lol. honestly it always comes back to harvest moon; i liked reading and posting in the threads/forums for harvest moon fics/roleplays [they were BAD bc i was like. 10 years old more or less lol, but i had fun and no concept of what good writing meant]

i don't really remember what got me into writing fics again more """seriously"""" when i got a little older. i never made a ffnet account despite reading and commenting anonymously for a good few years, and i dont remember how or why i made an ao3.

i was under the impression that rvb was what started it, but i remembered recently that like. i KNOW i wrote some homestuck oneshots back in the day. i very specifically can recall a silly croxy oneshot i wrote, but it's nowhere to be found on my ao3.... and there's even evidence of me having done a homestuck secret santa fic swap bc i have one in my gifts from someone and im p sure thats what it was from. so like, i THINK i mustve made ao3 during my homestuck era [bc that came before rvb; i got into homestuck in high school and i didnt know rvb until i started college] but i guess at some point i got embarrassed about my old homestuck fics and deleted them? which i dont really remember doing, so i have no idea when that happened lol. that or i only ever posted them on tumblr.... if i even posted them here? idr!

anyway. tldr: it always comes back to harvest moon / video game forum neoseeker / in general i just get possessed by The Madness and have to write it down. thats what drives me more recently lol.

15: Does anyone you know in real life know you write fanfiction?

jdkfhsklg. there's a small handful of people from irl that follow me here and i do cross post my fics to tumblr so i'd imagine yes, but none of them are into twst which is currently the only thing ive really been writing fics for these days. i also get too embarrassed if i think about it too long so i like to pretend no one knows LOL please dont perceive my antics....

but also when i got BACK into writing fics after like a year or two of not writing anything, when i started writing twst fics, i was just writing them in word docs and sending them to my friend over discord based on our inside jokes and au brainstorming we used to do in the dms bc we got into twst together and there wasnt really much of an eng fanbase back in the early days. and i still send her the google doc links when i write them even tho we dont really talk twst aus like we used to lol. ill just be like "i had an idea / ive been writing this a few weeks here" and then i go put it on ao3 lol jsdklhgksjd shes an irl buddy, so not on tumblr or ao3.

and then my partner. he knows. and he also knows everything i do in life makes me feel irrationally embarrassed so we often joke that my doodles and fanfiction are like, the biggest sin in the entire world. he'll jumpscare me in my room and i slam my laptop shut and hes like 🧍 what are you doing. you better not have been in the google docs. what da hell were you writing 🧍 but he also doesnt know twst outside of what ive told him / random stuff he makes up to try and get a rise out of me lmao so he's never read them. but he knows i write them.

aside from that. NO. and i would like to keep it that way fjksldjfklsjg only people that i think will be cool about it can maybe know and even then im. shy. fjsdklfjskldhlksdjkfl like it's hard enough posting my fics HERE!!!!! the second i hit post i get anxiety jitters and need to go walk around to distract myself from the everything.

i love talking for 900 years to answer 2 questions LOL

[question post🧡]

[no-brand-gays]

it is always a good day to find out that the character you’ve liked the most so far in your watch of love live superstar is a descendent of the samurai who founded the city you live in

[halikyon]

5 Hours of trying to clear m3s tonight, second week of trying.

I'm going to explode.

He was down to .2% not once,

but 5 times.

I am cursed. I am losing my mind.

This can't possibly still be happening.

No matter how much I try I'm at the whims of seven other people.

For a brief moment I considered uninstalling the game and never touching it again.

I'm so tired.

Its been like this the entire raid series so far.

I just want the stupid bike.

[agentark]

"we overcame a once in a century pandemic"

Which one? Surely you don't mean covid-19, the thing you're sick with RIGHT NOW that continues to kill and disable your fellow Americans by the thousands every week

[nomaishuttle]

basicallyheres the thing. i dont rly want to be immortal like me currently i probably wouldnt rly enjoy that. howeverrr if i got time travelled back to like the beginning of life on earth and was immortal i think i would have a good time bc im a curious girl. even just back to the birth of humanity or civilization... i just wannasee i wouldnt even do anything crazy with my immortality id just like. take a lot of notes abt everything

[planetvries]

Wow, that full moon really knocked him out, huh? 🌕🐺

[specialagentartemis]

łééchąą'í

Map of Native American etymologies for “horse”. There were no horses in the Americas before the colonists arrived. Native Americans quickly developed new words for this strange animal, often associating them with dogs, their one other domestic animal before contact with Europe.

[keypostos]

caleb is 10 when he realizes that he's a physical touch fiend. the rush he gets when his hand lingers on top of your skin after playing with you is like no other. when he presses into your side while you're reading, his thoughts always circle around one topic: you, you, you. when you would run into his room after a nightmare, caleb was ready to swoop you in his arms and hold you until you fell asleep. every response towards you was involuntary.

caleb is 15 when he realizes that teasing 13-year-old you becomes irresistible. when he holds up your book, pencil, or some other item in the air, he watches as you jump up and down to try and grab it back. he's grown a lot in three years; if he had to estimate, he's a whole head taller than you now—20cm at least.

when you throw yourself onto him in an attempt to get your stuff back, he falters. you're laying against him on the couch, shuffling and moving up and down over his body, and caleb's breath hitches. you're so close and right there.

he's going insane. you can't even stand up for five seconds before caleb pulls you down against him once more, saying something about retaliation or revenge while tickling you to death.

caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.

"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."

"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.

when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.

two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.

but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.

"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.

"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.

he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.

it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.

he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.

all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.

caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.

he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.

even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.

when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).

but he stays. because it's you.

you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.

he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.

caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.

you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.

how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.

you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.

whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.

he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.

the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.

he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.

"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."

caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?

slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.

you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.

caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.

wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???

i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.

also sorry the ending was rushed i wanted to get this over with bc i intented this to be like 500 words but obviously it got way longer than that. what can i say... this freak has dug into my brain.

[weeeyotch]

eager to please ღ r.r.

robert reynolds x f!reader

pt.2

synposis: aside from a couple sexual interactions, bob has never really learned how to eat someone out. but he's eager to learn for you.

warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), oral (fem receiving), messy pussy eating, sub/dom dynamics, praise kink, dacryphilia

word count: 1.7k

a/n: bob my beloved

For being the strongest man on Earth, he looks downright nervous.

He can take the force of a thousand bullets without a single scratch and fly at the speed of sound. Shit, he even brought Manhattan to its knees in a matter of minutes.

But here, in front of you? With his large, calloused hands gently resting on your parted thighs like they're sacred?

He's trembling.

"I just. . ." Bob swallowed, a loose curl falling onto his flushed forehead, slick with sweat and nerves. "I watched some videos online and—and I just want to do this right."

You ran a soothing hand through his hair. "You will, baby. I'll teach you how. Just listen to me."

He pouts and nods furiously. It makes your heart ache a little bit. This man could fly you to the next galaxy and pluck the stars out of the sky for you, and he would still believe that he isn't good enough.

Lying half-naked on the bed with your thighs spread comfortably around his warm body, you lean back on your elbows. Bob is still dressed in his cozy forest-green crewneck sweater and cream-colored corduroy pants. You feel rather vulnerable being more exposed than him, but the thought of soaking his clothes with your juices and leaving your mark made you absolutely drip.

There is no doubting he could see how wet your pussy is. He seems too anxious to look directly at it, still wanting to play the perfect gentleman. Instead, he opts to take quick glances and then dart his eyes away before you can catch him staring.

You reach down and intertwine your fingers with his, trying to ground him. He offers you a shy, crooked smile that makes your heart leap. Every instinct in your body is screaming at you to absolutely ruin this man; to make him cry, to make him scream, to turn him into your pliant little play-thing.

But that was for another time.

Tonight, you were teaching him how to worship you like a devoted acolyte at the altar.

"Okay," you murmur, "start with some kisses."

Bob leans down, practically folding himself over you. One of his massive hands snakes around your outer thigh, anchoring him in place as he turns his head inwards. He begins by nuzzling his nose against your inner thigh, breathing in the intoxicating scent of your soft skin. Then, he places a single, hesitant kiss.

And another. And another. And another, until he's trailing soft and reverent kisses all the way up to your core.

Just when he's hovering where you need him the most, mere centimeters away from your dripping cunt, he shifts to the other thigh to continue the exact same ritual. The way he's taking his time, so gentle and focused on doting on you, makes your head spin.

With each kiss, he starts to gain more courage. He brushes higher and higher until—

A sharp gasp escapes you as he finally kisses your center. There was no tongue yet. It was just sweet and tentative, like he was afraid to break you.

"That's good," you breathe. "Keep going. Don't be afraid to get a little messy, baby."

Bob's eyes flick up to you, tears already threatening to spill out while silently begging for permission. You nod.

That's all he needs.

He shifts in closer, parting your puffy lips with two thick fingers. Then, in a sudden burst of courage, he leans in and drags his tongue through you in one long, slow, mind-numbing stroke.

"Ohh—fuck."

He dives back in, repeating the motion. His head moves with growing enthusiasm, curls splaying against your tummy as he buries himself deeper within your thighs. It's sloppy. Unpracticed. But fuck, it feels so unbelievably good.

The way he groans against you is almost animalistic, like your taste shattered something in him and is currently rewiring his brain chemistry.

"Holy shit," he pants, pulling back just enough for air, his chin glistening with your slick. "You taste—fuck. Fuck you taste so good."

Before you can respond, he's back on you, devouring you like a starving man. He experiments with every flick and stroke of his tongue, eyes intently watching you—watching, listening, learning. He hones in on the spots that make your hips jerk or thighs clamp around his head.

Each moan you give him is answered by a deep, guttural sound from his throat, like he's getting off just from pleasing you. It's raw, unfiltered, and so undeniably desperate.

Then he pauses, breath warm and heavy against your skin. Slowly, carefully, he adjusts his position. His thumbs come up to gently pull back your hood, revealing the sensitive bundle of nerves underneath.

And then, ever so lightly, he starts to kitten-lick your clit.

He definitely learned that trick from the dozen of videos he watched for 'educational purposes'.

"Oh god, right there," you gasp, throwing your head back. "Right there. Just like that."

A high-pitched whine escapes him, almost as if he has been waiting his whole life to hear that he's doing a good job. His grip on your thighs tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer. He buries his face even deeper in your pussy, dragging slow and reverent strokes over your clit.

Wet clicking noises fill the air, mixing in with the grunts, pants, and your ragged cries.

You start to grind against his face, chasing that sweet, mounting pleasure in your abdomen. "A-ah—you're so good. Bob, you're doing so good."

He groans again, much louder this time. The vibration against your core makes your legs twitch.

His mouth is eager and deliciously sloppy, tongue flicking experimentally then circling with new precision when he hears your broken moans.

He's learning you inside and out—hungrily, obsessively. Every whimper and desperate cry to God you give him is fuel.

Then, his lips close around your clit and suck.

Your back arches. The sensation is pure electricity; it is magical yet almost painfully overwhelming.

"Fuck! Right there. Don't stop, don't stop."

He would rather die.

His fingers flex on the plush of your thighs to ground himself. This is the tightest he has ever held onto you. He's always worried about hurting you with his strength, opting for feather-light touches that never leave you feeling quite satisfied.

But now?

Now he's undeniably pussy-drunk, and the fear has vanished entirely.

"You're so pretty," he pants in between strokes, his words muffled against your cunt. "I want—to do this—forever. I'll—get better. Let me—make you come. Please."

You're already right there.

With your hips jerking, thighs trembling uncontrollably, and his name spilling out of your mouth like a prayer, you are coming undone. It's the worship in his voice, the way he presses adoring kisses to your clit between licks, and the primal desire he has to be good for you that sends you over the edge.

You wail, clutching his hair as your orgasm crashes over you. Your thighs clamp around him, your juices spilling out all over his lips and chin. He licks it up, greedy and reverent, not daring to waste a single drop.

But he doesn't stop.

Being as inexperienced as he is, he keeps going with the same eagerness and fervor. It helps you to ride out your high, but quickly leaves you feeling overstimulated. A part of you wanted to push through the pain and get lost in the pleasure again. However, that familiar sharp ache in your clit makes you flinch.

You squirm and push his head back. Only then does he finally pull away, eyes glazed over, like he just tasted heaven.

You're still catching your breath, thighs twitching as your body tries to recover from the storm he just dragged you through.

His voice cracks through the silence. Soft. Unsure. Raw.

"Did I do okay?" Bob asks, slowly rising.

You blink, trying to focus your vision on him once again. And fuck, he looks absolutely ruined.

His lips are pink and puffy. Your slick coats his chin and cheeks. His lashes are clumped with moisture, like he cried from overstimulation. Maybe he did.

Your chest aches again with that same devious desire to wreck him. The way he looks at you—like a sinner pleading for salvation—makes you feel like a goddess; divine and beautiful, with his animalistic devotion dripping from every glance.

You sit up on trembling elbows. "You did so good, baby. You were so perfect."

Relief washes over him. That same crooked little smile appears and his shoulders sag with solace.

"I wanna get better," he whispers, eyes flicking down to the damp spot on your bedsheets. "Wanna learn everything you like. Wanna be good for you every time."

That sends a pulse of heat straight through you. You reach out your arms in silent invitation.

He climbs up your body and you grab his jaw to kiss him, tasting yourself on his mouth. You cradle his face as he hovers there. It is sticky and messy, but so painfully intimate.

"My good boy," you whisper against his lips, rubbing your thumbs just underneath his eyes where the tears escaped. "I adore you."

A blush spreads across his cheeks.

He gently lowers his full weight against you and shyly nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You stroke his hair, over and over, slow and calming. Every pass of your hand helps him relax, to feel safe and appreciated.

"You okay?" you ask softly, careful not to disturb his peace.

Bob nods into your skin. "Never been better."

You press a kiss to the crown of his head. "You're trembling."

"Only a little," he admits, arms wrapping around your waist. "Just can't believe I did that."

You lay there for awhile in the quiet afterglow. His breathing eventually evens out but your fingers never stop moving; they stroke his back, lightly scratch at his neck and scalp, and trace soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

Eventually, his voice breaks through the stillness again. It is low and timid.

"When you're ready. . ." he begins.

You hum, eyes still closed. "Yeah?"

There's a pause. Then, you can feel a bashful grin growing against your neck.

"Could you try sitting on my face?"

[blindtaleteller]

Tags.

Trying to figure out how stopping for a little treat at Target added up to $200...

[asce-of-hearts]

milf reader and barely legal gojo blehhhhh, not proofread!!!!!!!!

part 2, part 1.5, part 1.6

Barely Legal!Gojo who uses his first day as an adult going bar hopping, getting so drunk he's kissing everything and everyone.

Barely Legal!Gojo who gets dared by Suguru to go and talk to the gorgeous, curvy and very obviously older woman who is dancing with her friends, a fucking MILF. Who is so drunk he doesn't hesitate as he stumbles your way.

Barely Legal!Gojo who can't lie when asked about his age. Who feels disappointed when the only thing you allow him to do is buy you a drink, or two, or twelve.

Barely Legal!Gojo who feels himself getting hard when you cling to his arm and whisper to him sweetly: "I wish you were like eight years older so I could flirt with you properly."

Barely Legal!Gojo who lets all coherent thoughts leave his mind as he turns to kiss you, not caring if the bar is full, he will be groping you over your dress.

Barely Legal!Gojo who fucks your throat in the bars bathroom. Stuffing your throat full of his fat cock like you're a college whore who has done too much coke.

Barely Legal!Gojo who fucks you like he has had a thousand years of experience. Who folds you in half, spanks your ass, manhandles you with ease.

Barely Legal!Gojo who makes you cum at least three times every time you two fuck. Who can go hour after hour after tortuous hour fucking your gorgeous womanly body.

Barely Legal!Gojo who flashes a shit eating grin at the black haired boy you introduce as your son when you tell him he's your boyfriend.

Barely Legal!Gojo who makes you scream in your bed, where you surely slept with your ex-husband before. Who is sure he's just so much better than him in every way by what you've told him. Your ex husband was a loser who was addicted to gambling, in debt and submerged in alcoholism. Nothing like him, the thriving jujutsu student in the prime of life.

Barely Legal!Gojo who has to resist the urge of poking holes in his condoms, because he just has to claim your body like that other loser did. He has to have you round and glowing with his little bastard.

Barely Legal!Gojo who loves to suck at your tits. Who goes almost catatonic as soon as he gets to latch to your nipple and suck as if you could give him milk. Who can't get enough of those beautiful breasts of yours, of groping them, of slobbering over them like a dog.

Barely Legal!Gojo who loves your curves, your cellulite, your stretch marks, your dimples and freckles and crevices. Who loves to have a MILF on his bed.

Barely Legal!Gojo who shows you off to all his friends. Who shows them your pictures fucked out over his bed, bouncing your ass on his cock and moving your hips in enticing 8-shaped motions, who relishes on the jealousy they feel at him getting to fuck every young and dumb fuckers wet dream.

Barely Legal!Gojo who feels heartbroken when you tell him you can't see him anymore. Because your ex-husband promised to work things out with you, and you don't want to break his heart. You promise him someone else will come, someone prettier and younger, but no, he wants you. And he will have you.

Barely Legal!Gojo who realizes he fucked up when he decided that he was going to beat up your looser, gambling addicted ex husband.

Barely Legal!Gojo who swallows down hard when he realizes that your ex-husband, the gambling addiction, irresponsible, in debt, is nothing more than the Toji Fushiguro, who will make sure nobody but him gets to have your pretty pussy.

this is a mess idk idk idk

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