#DON'T FUCK WITH ME I HAVE THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE RAAAAAHHHH

[taylorswiftstylequestions]

omfg i'm sorry to rant but i NEED a sympathetic person to hear this. i like the every single album podcast more than most swifties, but today's ep -- and the last few -- are driving me insane. i am so fucking sick of hearing nathan and nora wring their hands over what joe might deal with. all harassment is bad, but i am done pretending that jake g and john mayer went through….any kind of wringer? they had like...a semi-awkward couple of weeks? jake is still a mega a-lister and john mayer is widely considered to be one of the greatest living guitarists. fuck, what mayer did was outright predatory -- and he's done it to multiple women -- and lbr, he lives 99% of his life totally unperturbed by it. he's not losing gigs or status in the places that matter to him; i suspect a lot of swifties aren't aware of this but i'm a guitar nerd, and uh, yeah, he's considered a living god and no one gives a shit what he did to taylor. and literally everyone woman in the public eye, including taylor, goes through worse every single fucking day, even at their heights of popularity. i don't know how to deal with hearing nathan and nora worry about :(((( omg what will joe go through :((((( when he's never going to have disgusting ai porn of himself explode across twitter on a random weekday. maybe i feel this strongly b/c i work in games, where hordes of male fans regularly ruin random women's lives because they animated a female character wearing a t-shirt instead of a string bikini, but i can't deal with this anymore. these men are fine. lots of people get mad at them, but it's because they did truly shitty things to her and she refused to absorb it silently. then it breaks, and their lives go on.

---

I feel like Nora really articulated what Anon was trying to say the other day about along the gist of "I hope something really bad happened to justify all of this." Interesting perspectives! Btw I just want to be super clear that I don't think Taylor or anyone has to justify anything like that! Just thought it was interesting how Nora put it in the latest episode and T's power is the unusual part of this equation.

---

In a very classic "I thought the two of you should meet!" re: today's The Ringer / Every Single Album pod episode.

I will say I read both of these messages before listening to the episode myself and tbh I think Nora ultimately landed in a pretty middle and reasonable place (it started out pretty rocky though) by the end of the episode. My understanding is she ultimately felt like Taylor has every right to tell the story that she wants / needs to tell and the work will speak for itself. That this is Taylor going face to face with the elephant in the room and (probably - we don't know obviously) not obfuscating the reality that we all saw play out in real time behind 'fictionalized' half truths roleplayed by semi-imaginary characters. And at the end of the day the (likely - AGAIN WE DON'T KNOW) reality is that she's prepared to walk through the narrative that is this pressure cooker storyline many are waiting with baited breath for which is the deterioration of her most significant relationship to date.

All that to say is that I think both of these points are incredibly valid. I personally have a lot of feelings wrapped up in it that do tend to come down more on the side of it's strange that the default position is this desire to sign up as first in line defence attorney for a man when the crime as we know it is 'woman writes her life into art'.

Nora interestingly noted that there's a "pressure for this album to come with receipts" (paraphrase) based on this (fan) hyped up narrative of something sinister having gone awry that this album will pull the curtain back on. And if it fails to do that, enter said self-appointed attorneys.

[navi-squad]

i had to

(new favorite shitpost unlocked)

[originalribbing]

@micsmasmuses | | | Continued

"NO. Don't let it win. . .WAIT, IT'S NOT THAT BAD--"

Nothing like tasting the most plain, bland, unexciting food in existence.

Never let Adam cook again.

[fourteenthz]

Going insane just thinking about tlovm animating the scene of percy kissing vex right in the day before he pulls the whole "no more tricks" scene with raishan in whitestone. Just. Insane.

[shinidamachu]

I also noticed in my reread of the manga that the anime made Kikyo seem more powerful. In the manga Inuyasha easily parried Kikyo’s attack when she was first resurrected and chose to throw aside the sword to reason with her, and even got ready to strike her down and cracked his knuckles in order to bring Kagome back. In the anime he was easily overwhelmed by Kikyo and was only saved by Kagome waking up. I’m seeing Sunrise’s bias 🙄

And there's nothing wrong with making Kikyo seem more powerful. Inuyasha was constantly getting upgrades for Tessaiga without us as much as batting an eye over it.

The difference is that we were there when he found and got Tessaiga. We were there to see him struggle to master it. We were there for each and every single breakthrough. We know the how and we know the why.

Kikyo's power-ups, on the other hand, seem to come out of thin air most of the time. I'm sure she must have worked for it, but it wasn't shown, so there's a bit of a disconect between her journey getting there and the audience, which makes her achievements turn out to be not as satisfying as they could have been.

It's like, we know what the stabilished powers of a pristess are and so we think we know what Kikyo's powers are limited to, but then she does something new that doesn't fit that criteria and our only explanation is that she was the most powerful priestess of her time. Which makes sense, but also tells us that it's not important how she came to be so powerful, only that she is.

So why should we care when she uses a new trick? It's probably something she has known how to do for a while, anyway. We weren't rooting for her to get it right. We weren't anticipating it. We just roll with it.

The problem is that, in order to make Kikyo seem more powerful, Sunrise often gave her scenes where Kagome was originally the one kicking ass and taking names. And that's what I have issues with. Take this scene for instance:

Kikyo is the kind of character who doesn't do anything without a reason, so why would she interfere? She doesn't really knows Koga. She has probably no idea of his connection to Inuyasha — and even if she had, I don't peg her for comeone who'd care, considering how she treated Kagome most of the time. Koga is a demon with two jewel shards. Why help him out instead of taking them from him herself or waiting Naraku's incarnation finish the job to sweep in and do it? Because in the manga, Kagome is the one who saves Koga:

Which makes infinitely more sense and proves that there was no actual reason behind this "creative" change other than making Kikyo look cooler. The entirety of Sunrise's adaptation is full of these little shenanigans. Do you want to see a practical example of how this affects the general perception of the audience regarding the characters?

Here's Kagome diligently destroying a Naraku puppet to save an unconscious Kikyo. She actively uses the bow and arrow she didn't know how to shoot in the beginning of her journey to save someone she judges to be her love rival. And she suceeds without overthinking it or breaking a sweat.

But Sunrise thought it would be better to just do this instead:

The result? People naturally praise Kikyo for being the biggest girl boss in Inuyasha for stuff that was originally done by Kagome:

Don't get me wrong, it's great that people will appreciate Kikyo — this was exactly what Sunrise was going for, anyway — but it rubs me the wrong way that it came with the price of Kagome getting constantly criticized for being a "damsel in distress" who never does anything.

When your adaptation changes the story so much that people wrongfully perceives your female lead as useless despite the many, many scenes you still animated of her saving the day — and specifically saving the life of her supposed rival, who they judge to be much stronger and independent than her — that's when you know you fucked up.

And the worst part is that people are either blissfully unaware of this irony — because they haven't read the manga — or straight up dishonest about it.

The funny thing is: Kikyo didn't need any of that. What Sunrise did was the equivalent of taking original scenes of her being kind or compassionate and giving it to Kagome instead. It wasn't necessary. Kikyo was stabilished as a powerful woman from her very first appearance:

Kagome was the one who needed to prove herself in battle because she was the 15 year modern girl who was tossed untrained in the middle of a feudal era "life or death" situation. She was the one I wanted to see exploring and using her spiritual powers, because that's what her character needed to grow.

What Kikyo needed was humanization, glimpses of the ordinary woman she has always wanted to be. Empowerment is important, but it's also multifaceted and it falls flat when it focuses on power for the sake of power.

I'd gladly exchange any of those changes for scenes of Kikyo coping with taking a human life or using women's souls to stay on the world of the living. Scenes of Kikyo realizing she has become the very thing she used to fight against and how seeking for revenge affected the people she loves.

Scenes of Kikyo regretting decisions she can't take back, scenes of Kikyo bonding with Kaede both before and after her death, scenes of Kikyo acknowledging the part she played on the way her relationship with Inuyasha ended and apologizing for the hell she put him through over it.

That's how you make her character relatable and empathetic. That's how you highlight her complexities and makes her interesting. Kikyo being pretty while shooting arrows is absolutely stunning on screen, but it does little to create a truly emotional attachment to her character, at least for me.

As for the particular scene you brought up, Inuyasha was, in fact, easily overwhelmed by Kikyo in the anime. When she first attacks him, he just... lets her.

While in the manga, Inuyasha is quick to dodge it.

He does try to defend himself in the anime. However, Kikyo's arrow manages to stop Tessaiga's transormation and almost hits his heart.

None of which happens in the anime, where Inuyasha not only defends himself but also actively pushes back.

Sure, Kikyo still succeeds in zapping the hell out of him, but only because Inuyasha threw Tessaiga aside to reason with her, like you pointed out. When that didn't work, he cracked his knuckles in order to strike her down, before realizing he couldn't do it and then Kagome comes in with the save. In the anime, he didn't even try.

And the hug I mentioned, when he's attempting to appease Kikyo and she cries on his arms for a moment? Completely erased in favor of making her push her elderly sister aside twice and hurting Inuyasha more than originally intended while also referring to him as "beast", "monster" and "half breed."

I understand why Sunrise wanted to give Kikyo more screen time – she's a key character and people seem to have a good time drawing and animating her – but they focused mostly on making her look "cool" by kicking up a notch on the whole "vengeful spirit" thing and ended up shooting themselves on the foot by going too far.

They really thought the nonsense added scenes, like Inuyasha watching her bath or telling the audience they were always by each other's side – while actually showing them sitting far apart, Inuyasha being left to chase after the carriage she was in instead of being there with her, etc – would make up for the hug they cut out in order to give Kikyo more "badass" moments.

That's because they realized the couple had no substancy whatsoever and to remedy that, prioritized telling us that they were together for at least a couple of seasons instead of making the effort to show us this so called deep love. The hug was meaningful and made sense. Inuyasha dramatically laying on the ground while mentally screaming her name after telling her she needed to return the last piece of Kagome's soul – which is how Sunrise decided to end the episode – did not.

Especially because in the manga, he checked on Kagome before...

And after he left to try and get the remaining piece of her soul back – knowing what it would mean to Kikyo.

Plus, while obviously sad about Kikyo's "death", he also seems to accept this was for the best and acts like he is pretty much ready to move on.

Not to mention how he panicked when Shippo brought up the possibility of Kagome not being Kagome anymore and how absolutely relieved he was when he realized it wasn't the case.

And if this wasn't enough, he spent a good three panels blushing over Kagome right after the whole ordeal.

Those scenes had two purposes. One was to solidify, once more, Kagome as her own person to the audience and to Inuyasha, as well as a love interest. He had the opportunity to get Kikyo back and still wanted her to return the soul – even if it meant Kikyo would cease to exist – because he didn't want to risk Kagome not waking up or not being herself anymore, since he was already falling in love with her. Kikyo herself guilt trips him about it when he tries to convince her.

The other was to contrast Inuyasha's first reaction to Kikyo's ressurection and the information that they were both set up with his reaction after he was told that Kikyo died for him and therefore he owes her his life. The former consists on him standing up for himself and rightfully seeing himself as a victim, the latter consists on him blaming himself out of proportion based on a blalant lie. That's why in the manga he takes her "second" death so well, while the others really take a toll on him. In the anime, however, it's like he is already blaming himself when she falls off that cliff.

I attribute this change of attitude to another scene Sunrise thought fit to delete:

Of course the anime also has Inuyasha denying Kikyo's accusations, but he is way less effusive about it in there. Originally, when he realizes they were fooled into thinking they betrayed each other, he acts like they were both at fault for distrusting each other and are, therefore, even. So when she "dies" there's nothing he can do but wish for her to rest in peace and move on despite how sad it makes him.

All of this really sucks, because as you can see, the changes they did in favor of Kikyo either didn't work on her favor at all or heavily impacted the characterization of others – Inuyasha and Kagome especially – in a negative way, in addition to creating huge inconsistencies plot and narrative wise.

TLDR: yes, Sunrise's bias is obvious. And ironically, I think if they had liked Kikyo less, she would have been a much better written character because they wouldn't be afraid to give her the development she needed.

[crow-the-unknown]

part of me is glad i skipped the pens game today lmao (partially cos my avs won)

i hate rangers fans and if i had been there when they were chanting "crosby sucks" i would have personally fought each and every one of those bastards because they have absolutely no clue at all

try winning a cup this century and then we'll talk about him "sucking" huh? or maybe three-

or maybe try becoming one of the top 100 players ever, or try staying as good as you were at the start of your career for 15+ years, try being a genuinely great human and player in general, or-

[msboutofcontext]

[coren-art]

click for better quality!

Some sketches I made thinking about a character for a (possible) superhero webcomic.

(the reference to the vine was unintentional but too funny to ignore)

[manicpixiefelix]

baby, put your back into it {Farleigh Start/Reader/Oliver Quick}

1/2: i'm gonna talk you through it [SMUT]

Summary: You're the daughter of one of Henrys, and known to be a snobby, entitled Princess of a woman; neither Venetia nor Felix seems to like you. Farleigh, however, claims that you and he have an ongoing arrangement. Felix says that arrangement is that you and Farleigh bitch together, then fuck like wild animals every time you hang out. Turns out you're even bitchier in person, and after a cruel joke played on Oliver by you and Farleigh at the Henrys dinner, he decides to take a bit of power back. Not that it goes as intended... nor that it goes completely wrong.

Need to Know: She/Her. AFAB!Reader. Established FWB Brat!Reader/Brat Tamer!Farleigh

Warnings: PWP!! smut; fingering, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, lots of arguing, reader is very very bratty, demeaning talk, bondage & restraints, explicit discussions around safewords (it does happen a little bit into the action but before anything major), pet name used for the reader "princess"

A/N: 4730 words. okay turns out i can write pwp. i cut out like 1.5k of background and you get the gist of it in the summary. there will be a part 2 thats heavy on the smut, but this trio takes a while to set anything up because they can't stop arguing. hints of farleigh/oliver. this was a lot of fun but again i can't stress how long its been since ive written full, proper smut, so id really appreciate feedback. <3 unedited, i love you.

{ masterpost : 1/2 }

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Fucking Farleigh Start. Oliver feels the fury as it burns and bubbles inside of him, stalking quietly through the halls of Saltburn. There, at the end of the hall, Farleigh's bedroom door, quiet and unassuming, and right next to it, Oliver's target; your door. Farleigh isn't the only one in the house who can wrap people around his little finger; he isn't the only one in the house who can get the Princess to kneel.

Trying the handle, he finds it unlocked, and eases the old, wooden door open.

"Farleigh was right," upon hearing your voice, bright, amused, and very much awake in the dark, Oliver jumps, "you're an A-plus lurker, I didn't even hear you come in."

"Was a nasty thing you did to me tonight," Oliver tries to regain some of his composure, some of the ire he'd built up on the way here.

"So you've snuck into my room, I assume you assumed I was asleep, to- what, wake me up and berate me?" There's something smug and biting in your voice, something that fuels the fury coiling deep in his gut, "that doesn't sound like enough for someone like you, tricksie, little, pauper boy." When you start to move from where you've been sitting up in bed, crawling to the end to sit on your knees as the moonlight streaks through your window and finally paints you in sharp relief, he sees you're already nude.

But even your stunning body in the moonlight cannot compare to the look on your face, the sharp, hungry, mean amusement he's never seen a person wear so well.

"Go on then, shout," your eyes shine dangerously in the moonlight; "don't you want Farleigh to hear?" They might have been right. You might be the devil. Your smile gets wider, and Oliver can only watch, rather transfixed, as you start rolling your hips with purpose, "or do you want him to hear something else?" He hears, quietly at first, a soft tap, getting louder as you keep insistently thrusting against the air, against the mattress, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall behind it, the wall that you shared with Farleigh on the other side.

Then, all at once, you stopped. A loud, mean laugh is pulled from you as you pitch yourself back on the bed, kicking your legs out in front of you to hang off the edge, completely relaxed, completely exposed. You give a loud, amused sigh, looking up at the canopy of the four poster bed.

"God, you're such a little bitch, Oliver, Farleigh was so right," you snorted, "I was the one who actually saw you eating Venetia like your life depended on it, on the lawn of all places," you shook your head, "I don't know what you told Felix to get out of that one but I know what I saw," clicking your tongue, you raised your leg, pointing a foot at him, not even bothering to look at him, "now you won't even touch me in my own bedroom when I'm practically begging for it. I'm choosing to be offended about that; you've offended me, Oliver."

Slowly, your leg lowers, and you kick your heels idly against the end of the bed in the silence.

"Where do you get all your attitude from?" Oliver finally speaks, tone turning scornful as he approached you.

"The money," you fire back with ease, "which is why you always seem to have none." Then, in the furious silence that followed, you grinned sharply at the roof, still not bothering to look at him, "try harder."

When he touches your knee, his fingers gentle against your skin, you kick him hard in the thigh with your other foot -

"The fuck? Did you just kick me?"

"Yeah, and?" He can almost hear you rolling your eyes, "what did you think it was, the wind? Ghost of Grandma Catton?"

"Do you fuckin' want me or not?" He's still standing within kicking range, he learns too late. All the while you've never even looked at him, always looking at the ceiling, hands comfortably, casually behind your head. There's a smug grin on your lips now, something teasing and once more mean.

"Do you want me?" You respond, legs gliding open, an open invitation to your slick, moon-drenched cunt, "I thought you wanted to use me to get back at Farleigh," you said mockingly, finally looking up and meeting his deep, furious gaze. Propped up on your elbows, you give a grin that's all teeth, "wanted to show us who has the real power, that you can get us back for the stunt we pulled after dinner," you sat up further, intense, hungry amusement in your eyes that drew Oliver in to you, leaning in, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as you were almost nose to nose. Your voice lowers, gaze on his lips as your voice turns to almost a moan, "wanted to show Farleigh that you could take anything he thought was his; even me," and you start fake moaning, softly at first, but getting exponentially louder as you leaned back again, against the bed, arching and writhing from nothing, putting on a show that ended with you shouting - "Oliver's a fucking bitch!" At the top of your lungs, and cackling with glee.

Rage exploded within Oliver, and for a moment, overcome with a strange sense of betrayal at your demonstration, he smacks at your inner thigh with all the might he can muster. He can tell it stings, your laughter stops for just a moment, leg flinching up for just a second, but then you're laughing harder if possible.

"Your first mistake - of many - was letting her talk at all," Farleigh's voice from the door is frankly annoyed. You, however, gasp with delight, sitting directly up and looking at Farleigh with absolute glee.

"That's not his fault, I wasn't going to tell him," you pointed out, before looking down at your thighs, and Oliver's hands still on them, and the part of you that must have still stung from the slap, "why is your grip so soft?" You looked up at him with a derisive expression, and immediately Oliver's grip on you goes tight, nails digging into your skin; you're fucking laughing at him again, still, "awe, you're getting there -"

"Could you stop that already?" Oliver leans in, scowling at you. Eyebrows raising in mock surprise, you grinned with devilish intent.

"Stop what?"

"All that fuckin' talking you're doing."

"I don't know, can I -?" But then out of seemingly nowhere, Farleigh sits himself down at the end of the bed next to you, flush against your side. He's still in his crisp, white shirt, and black slacks, looking so put together next to your brash nudity. When his hand comes up to your jaw, barely two fingers beneath your chin to guide you, to have you looking him in the eyes, you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. Both he and Oliver can see how badly you want to laugh, to make any kind of sound, but you hold yourself back.

"Okay, your fucking highness," Farleigh's voice is low and dangerous, full of warning, and Oliver sees you take a sharp breath in, gaze fixed on Farleigh's, "you don't get shit from either of us if you can't keep your dirty mouth closed." Though you nod adamantly, you puff out your cheeks, amusement in your eyes as you're clearly desperate to say something; "what?" Farleigh frowns.

"I have really bad news for you about what I have to do to suck dick," you point out, trying to keep your composure. It's not working, giggles are escaping you at a rapid rate.

"You are testing nerves I didn't even know I had," Oliver admits, desperately trying to sink his nails into you as hard as he could. If he could draw blood, perhaps that would be enough penance for having to endure your infuriating company.

However, it's Farleigh who speaks, lip curling with frustration as he smacks Oliver's hand away from the thigh closest to him. With a solid grip on that thigh, he pulls you leg close to him, forcing your legs wider, exposing you further.

"Then do something about it," he practically orders, and something about the tone sparks a kind of indignation in his chest, "you need me to talk you through it?" He snaps. This, however, quickly turns smug and mean as Farleigh leans in, nose to nose with Oliver and his building frustration with them both; "you know how to eat pussy, right?"

"You should both be very careful what you wish for," Oliver's eyes flash with a dangerous confidence as he sank down on his knees between your legs. You, thrilled and delighted by how the situation was no unfolding, lay yourself back on the bed with contented laughter, hands coming to rest confidently behind your head once more.

Farleigh watches Oliver with intense scrutiny, and for reasons he's not quite sure of, Oliver meets his gaze, refuses to break eye contact. His hand moves first, no longer holding your left thigh, he digs his elbow into your soft inner thigh, bracing his arm against you, forcing your leg further open and keeping it that way, letting him comfortably rest his hand with his thumb on your clit.

"Smart boy," you hum appreciatively, shifting your hips back and forth a little as his thumb is rubbing circles against your clit, "knows where the start button is." He takes his thumb off of you, much to your confusion. His gaze is still locked with Farleigh's. "Fucking hell, are you tired already -?" You sat up on your elbows, scowling at him, but Oliver looks sharply to you.

"Weren't you listening to Farleigh, princess?" Oliver asks, and there's something so deliciously satisfying about the look of flustered surprise on your face in this moment. Beside you, Farleigh huffs a laugh to himself and stands, pulling off his tie. Oliver's full attention, however, is still trained on your. Slowly, as he speaks, he again begins to rub circles against your clit, teasing, never enough proper pressure to be satisfying.

"I -" you started, but he immediately stopped again; out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver sees Farleigh's approving nod. Something about this all has his blood rushing in his fucking ears. You press your lips together, giving him a now expectant look, as if here, I've done what you've asked.

You're so wet, so wanting, ready and waiting, right thigh inching closer, leg curling around him, heel pressing insistently into his back. God you look so fucking good, he wants nothing more than to eat you like a man starving, tasting every inch of you -

"Give me your belt," Farleigh interrupts, and Oliver pauses, mouth literally an inch from your cunt, looking up at Farleigh like he can't quite believe him right now.

"Farleigh!" You exclaim with utter frustration, right leg lashing out to kick him, but he grabs your ankle and holds it tightly. With his free hand he makes an expectant, grabby hand at Oliver.

"Belt, now please." He practically orders.

"Use your own belt, Farleigh," Oliver nods to the belt Farleigh had just tossed to the side of the room, and Farleigh gives him a thin, unamused smile.

"Mine's nicer, and I don't want your cum on it," he explained with a mean, humourless smile. Oliver sat back for a long, furious moment, undoing his belt. The minute his hands were off of you, you tried to whine, but Farleigh, now just in his boxers, sat further up the bed beside you.

"This is overkill, I'll be good," you pouted, twisting to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him with as pleading eyes as you could manage.

"You're not even being good right now," he pointed out; "both your thighs are over Oliver's fucking shoulders, and you haven't gone thirty seconds without saying something," but clearly you're pleased and flustered at being called out. Farleigh says your name more insistently, and you try and play innocent before he practically orders, "get your fucking legs off of him!" Like he can't quite believe you're still trying these tricks, even though you both seem comfortable in this dynamic.

"Oliver~" Farleigh then practically sings like a warning, gaze turning much colder as it falls back on Oliver himself, "where are we with that belt?"

"What's it for anyways?" Oliver finally pulls his belt free, awkwardly half throwing it to Farleigh, who does actually thank him, before his attention is back on you, bare and warm and wet and - "princess," he says suddenly before Farleigh can even answer his initial question, looking up, and you make a noise of acknowledgement, "you want me to touch you like I mean it, then keep your legs spread like you actually fucking want it," voice going low and sharp, immediately you widen your legs as best you can.

"Oh, he's good," Farleigh says, surprisingly appreciatively, watching as Oliver makes a meal of you.

Finally, finally, Oliver's mouth is on you, tongue gliding playfully along your slit, his nose continually bumping his thumb as it continues to work your clit, firmer this time. You hips wriggle and roll with him, desperate for more, growing frustrated with his teasing lightness.

"The belt can be for several things," Farleigh began, matter-of-factly as he began to loop the belt through itself, focusing on his task at hand, "if she insists on closing her legs, I'm not above using both belts to make sure she keeps them open - this bedframe's especially good for that -" a hot spike of desire passes through Oliver all at once, picturing you bound and open and begging -

"Oh, don't joke about that Farleigh, come on, you know I love that -" you actually whimpered, but Oliver, still keeping in mind the earlier warning, once more stops entirely. You gasp, as if betrayed, before remembering for yourself, actually whining, "you guys fucking suck," you whimper petulantly. For a moment, Oliver wonders if he really aught to be here, if this strange, psychosexual encounter was really worth it.

"You're fucking loving this," Farleigh countered without a moment of hesitation, saying it with such confidence that it almost surprised Oliver, "you just hate that you can't shut the fuck up for any amount of time, and that Oliver isn't actually as much of a little bitch as you thought," clearing his throat, Farleigh cast an evaluative look, before trying to shrug it off nonchalantly, "as either of us thought, I guess."

A moment of quiet stillness passes, and Oliver looks to you, face scrunched up with embarrassment, as all of Farleigh's words apparently rang true.

"Are you hourly, Oliver?" Farleigh then scowls, much to Oliver's confusion. Farleigh looks at him like he's a downright idiot, "the princess is actually being quiet, which means..." he trailed off pointedly. Oliver sat back on his heels, frowning at Farleigh for a long moment, his hands coming to rest on your knees. You, yet again growing incredibly unsatisfied, groaned into your hands.

"Not if you're gonna talk to me like that," Oliver takes a deep breath, sitting tall, gaze unflinching as he meets Farleigh's sneering gaze.

"Then fuck off, Little Orphan Ollie, we don't need you," he spits, "you should really feel lucky that you even got this far -"

"You're all talk, Farleigh," Oliver, with a newfound confidence, and his hands on you, rubbing small, gentle circles against your inner thighs with his thumbs. Farleigh's eyes narrow, but Oliver's smile turns knowing, "I know you can throw her around, and tie her up, and give her orders, clearly," he tips his head ever so slightly to the side, gaze slipping to you, to where you've still got your face covered by your hands, "but we both know no-one can speak for her, but her."

The faint, frustrated whimpering that had been escaping you this entire time goes dead silent. Oliver feels the way you go very still. Farleigh, realising what Oliver meant, also turned to look at you properly.

"'s your bedroom, princess," Oliver leans in, presses a kiss to your inner thigh, murmuring softly against your skin, "what do you think?"

"I think you're edging each other with psychosexual, power-play, bullshit-banter that's doing fucking nothing for me," you snap behind your hands, "and I'm gonna start kicking people again very soon," you warned. Farleigh rolled his eyes.

"Sit up," he sighed.

"No."

"Make a choice," Oliver told you, tone firmer this time.

"Also no." Your voice was sounding particularly petulant, and you even brought your knees together, closing yourself off in front of Oliver. After a long, vaguely irate silence, Farleigh takes a deep breath.

"Is something wrong? Are we at a yellow light? Red light?" He asks, tone far gentler, he leans over, fingers gentle against your hairline by your fingertips.

"Light... colours?" Oliver asks with genuine confusion. Farleigh is far less patient when he turns on Oliver, like he's frustrated to even be explaining this.

"Like a traffic light; instead of a safety word like pineapple, we have green - go, yellow - slow down, red - stop," said like he wanted to include duh, obviously on the end, but refrained, turning back to you.

"And... they're for her?" Intrigued and surprisingly endeared by the concept, Oliver leans forward with a little smile, resting his chin on one of your knees, looking between yourself and Farleigh. He watches you sigh, even with your hands over your face.

"How do you not know how safe words work? What kind of sex have you been having?" Farleigh's judgemental tone hits Oliver square in the chest, but before he can even answer, you finally sit up, expression wide and overwhelmed with frustration.

"Farleigh look at him; he's like if they made repression a person! He's been having the most boring, vanilla sex known to man - if any - and getting off in his spare time to things that would make God cry. Look him in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong -" Farleigh's gaze flicked to Oliver, who suddenly felt himself begin to flush scarlet, and had to sit back again, frowning at his hands. There was something about the shame at being so concisely called out that was... thrilling. Something about how clearly you could see through him, through his persona to the raw want at his very core, it was freeing. You sat up further, with purpose, grabbing Oliver's chin so roughly it shocked him, forcing him to look in your eyes for a long moment.

"You came in here with purpose thinking I was asleep; creepy, hot, deranged; I'm into it," you told him sternly, "I literally could not care less about you otherwise, you're nothing to me the rest of the time. You came here to put me in my place, I don't want you here if you can't do that." Fucking hell, Oliver can feel his heartbeat racing as you shove his face away, your expression almost bordering on disgust.

"So you're..." Farleigh, as if frustrated by this little tirade you saw fit to go on, was unimpressed as he once more checked in.

"Green light, obviously," you threw your hands into the air in exasperation, "it's like you've never met me before -" but before you can slump back against the bed like you so clearly wanted to, Farleigh catches you, shifts behind you to prop you up.

"You're a brat," Oliver says, finally finding the words for the dynamic, and rather charmed by it all. Still, Farleigh has to get a word in edgewise.

"How long 'd it take you to figure that out?" He muttered sarcastically, doing something behind your back while you made a show of struggling and wiggling, refusing to keep your left arm with whatever he was doing.

"So," Oliver clarified, testing out the code, "green light?" You grinned at him, giving a pleased nod. Farleigh, finally having caught your left hand seemingly for good, reiterates the statement distractedly. Then, with a sense of triumph and relief, he pulls the belt, and his makeshift handcuffs, tight.

"Why are you still dressed?" You ask Oliver sharply. You may have had a point, but the game was back on. With your hands secured, Farleigh sat back behind you on the bed, pulling you flush to him, arms secured and pressed between the two of you that was just edging on uncomfortable.

"Why are you still talking?" He mutters into your ear, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand coming to wrap over your mouth, while his other curled around your middle, pulling your legs apart, wasting no time in dipping two long, elegant fingers into you. Your eyes light up, gasping against his hand as the two of you watch with lust in your eyes as Oliver begins to undress.

"The belt," Farleigh's voice has that lazy kind of smugness that Oliver usually hated, but now kind of makes his head fuzzy and kind of like he wants to sink his teeth into him, "is to keep the princess in her place, because someone," he says pointedly, not that you seem to notice; your eyes are closed, and Farleigh's thumb is on your clit while the fingers he has inside of you curl lovingly into your sweet spot, "manages to escape every pair of padded handcuffs either of us have ever bought," he explains, turning his attention back to Oliver, "and she complains about metal handcuffs, and zip ties, has undone every rope knot I've ever tied, and ruined every single tie I've ever tried to tie her up with."

"I bought you new ones," your voice is faint, half a moan muffled behind Farleigh's hand, and Oliver, still unsure of how to respond to any of that, finally turns back to the two of you on the bed. There's something desperate about the way you're arching against Farleigh's firm hold on you, legs having fallen open as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, lewd and needy. But Farleigh's eyes are only on Oliver, watching him with hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide, gaze roaming over Oliver's physique.

At the sound of your voice, Farleigh's gaze meets Oliver's his smile widening just a touch before he stops entirely. A desperate keening is pulled from you, hips shifting for friction, for anything, as Farleigh rests his hand on your thigh, fingers slick, practically dripping with you.

"No, I'll be good," you whimper, eyes fluttering, half closed, "I'll be -" you were already breathing heavy, "so so good."

"Hear that?" Farleigh murmurs with a vindictive little smile, hand uncovering your mouth, moving to hold your chin, your mouth falling open in a moan as his nails scratch up your thighs. Oliver advances on you both, entranced by the sight of you both, desperate to have a taste, to play along.

"Think she even knows how to be good?" Oliver teases, once more between your thighs. Still, instead of giving you the same kind of proper relief that Farleigh had been offering, he starts out gentle once more.

"Oliver, you're so cruel," you whimper. Farleigh's hand moves from your jaw to wrap around your middle, holding you secure, while the hand that had sat on your thigh moves to your open mouth, Oliver watches, rapt, as he slides both slick digits past your lips, but it shuts you up well enough, lips closing on his fingers as you diligently lap up your own taste from him.

"See, can't trust a word she says," Farleigh purrs. You bite gently on his fingers as you moan, Oliver finally deciding to do more than just tease you. Oliver's fingers are shorter than Farleigh's, but damn if they can't still hit the same high notes. Curling and pressing in a steady rhythm, he alternates dipping his tongue in as much as he can, and circling your clit. Farleigh's hand has moved from your mouth, spit slicked fingers pinching at your nipples, lightly dragging his nails across your skin, while he's started rolling his hips against your back, cock unbearably hard and still confined to his boxers, pressed against you.

You're whimpering and moaning in his ear, straining against your handcuffs, arching, writhing, but Oliver's holding your thighs still and secure and Farleigh is captivated by how enthusiastically he's going down on you, how its shining on his cheeks, his nose - he reaches out, cards his fingers through Oliver's hair. Oliver looks up through his lashes, a fucking gorgeous sight that you're too lost to appreciate. Just for Farleigh.

God he could say something snide, something about sloppy seconds or something about this being the most expensive meal he'll ever have, but he doesn't. He gives a sly, approving smile, and his grip on Oliver's hair tightens.

"Teeth and tongue," he tells Oliver quietly. Oliver doesn't seem to get it at first, but you choke out a whine, arching further into Farleigh, tipping your head against his.

"That's cheating," you gasped, but Farleigh kept running his fingers through Oliver's hair, whose mouth had never left your cunt, nor his eyes Farleigh's face, "you're helping him cheat; you want me to cum this early?"

"You know what's cheating?" Farleigh once more grabbed your chin, angling your head so you could watch Oliver working hard to get you off, "look at him," Farleigh murmurs in your ear, "eyes open, on his," the commanding tone was hard to refuse, and your eyes fluttered open; the fucking sight of him, a mess between your legs, Farleigh's hand in his hair, was almost enough to send you over the edge, "tell him what I mean."

"Gentle- uh, gentle teeth on me- on my-" you desperately tried to string two words together as Oliver began to get more of an idea. Farleigh's hand on his head becoming more insistent, firmer, nose pressed firm against your skin when he finally took the hint, focusing on your clit, sucking and lapping at it, teeth gently teasing as you completely lost the ability to speak. The rhythm of his fingers was consistent and firm throughout it all, pressing just right -

"Keep your fucking eyes on him," Farleigh ordered, almost snarling it into your ear, "I want you to watch Oliver Quick make you cum." But Oliver had eyes only for him, feeling you clench around his fingers, thighs pressing desperately against his shoulder and the hand that had kept them apart, he could feel Farleigh's nails on his scalp and see the heady, smug pride in his eyes.

As you start to come down, breathing hard and heavy and leaning all your weight against Farleigh, you giggle with out of breath contentment.

"Princess's got not manners," Oliver shook his head with an air of disappointment, and Farleigh smirked, brushing some hair from Oliver's forehead before he reached up and tapped your cheek gently.

"Say thank you, Oliver."

"Thank you, Oliver," you grinned, tone surprisingly sincere, as Oliver crawled up onto the bed beside you both. But there's something dark and hungry in his eyes as he watched you both; reaching out, he presses the fingers against Farleigh's lips, your cum coating them like syrup. Farleigh is more than happy to lick them clean, tongue dancing lewdly around Oliver's digits, all kinds of inuendo and promise in his eyes.

Then, Oliver's attention turns on you something dark, hungry, almost deranged in his eyes. He takes your face in hand.

"And you, princess," he says derisively, not even respecting you enough to look you in the eyes in this moment, "this is not your place that I am putting you in," god it almost sounds like a threat, but you're already squirming with want and anticipation, "but we'll get there," he squeezes your cheeks and your mouth opens on command, tongue as pink and wet and desperate as your cunt had been. He spits in your mouth, sudden sneer curling his lip, blue eyes ice cold and demeaning; "and it's thank you, Oliver Quick."

You feel fucking filthy, can taste yourself in his spit.

You want him to do it again.

"Thank you, Oliver Quick."

{ part two here }

[yeetus-feetus]

Batfam incorrect quotes (vines)

Dick: everyone's been asking about you Damian

Damian: then keep asking! That whole family cast me out Dick!

Dick: only because you think you're straight

Damian: I am straight!

Dick: well you can tell that to mom, and mom, and your sperm doner dad, and dad's boyfriends, and-

•

Tim: so I'm sitting there, barbecue sauce on my titties-

Steph: *falls to the ground and dies in a fit of laughter*

•

Kon: Don't tell your father

Tim: kiss one another

Kon: die for each other

Tim:❗❗❗

•

Dick: *throws Jason's gun away*

Jason: what the fUck RicHaRd

•

Jason: hello Tim.

Tim: hi, Jason.

Jason: That outfit looks familiar...

•

Duke: toss me my keys

Duke: ... I said my keys!

Steph: I thought you said printer

Duke: now why the fuck would I say-

•

Cass: what did you get for question 12?

Barbara: I got 18

Steph: I got 9.5 ???

Dick: I got Abraham Lincoln ... for some reason. I don't-

•

Damian: Don't fuck with me! I have the power of God and anime my side! HYAAAAA!!

•

Jason: iis there anything better than pussy?

Jason: yes! A really good book!

•

Reporter: where do you keep all your gadgets while fighting? It's incredible!

Cass: Belt.

•

Damian with his new hairstyle: stop saying I look like Tim! He's dumb and he's a coward!

Damian: AND I'M NOT A COWARD!

•

Kori: hey babe, happy one year! <3

Dick: ??? I'm 27

(they're idiots your honour)

•

Jason, about Bruce: his hair, wack. His gear, wack. His car, wack. His footsteps, wack. The way that he talks, wack. The way that he doesn't even like to smile, wack.

Jason: me? I'm tight as fuck!

•

Duke: WAKE UP SLEEPYHEAD!!

Tim: what? What's going on!?

Bernard: what the fuck man?

Duke: 😱🤭!!

•

Jason: hey everybody, today Tim replaced me so I'm starting a Kickstarter to put him down. The benefits of killing him would be-

•

Duke: hey how y'all-

Titus: *growling and snarling*

Duke: AH! get your fuckin dog bitch!

Damian: it don't bite

Duke: YES IT DO!

•

Barbara, watching Dick and Wally through the cameras: two bros chillin in a hottub 5 feet apart coz they're not gay

•

Jason: in the League of Assassins, we got-

Damian: 👶

Jason: whose baby is you??

•

Dick: this chicken is almost as juicy as my ass

Cass: 🤨?

Bruce: 🤦

Alfred: 😐

Everyone else: 🙄

•

Tim: you wouldn't like me before my coffee

Damian: that's so weird because I fucking hate you all- Everytime.

•

Jason: HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR ME!!

Bruce: THAT'S MY OPINION!!

Dick: 👁️👄👁️

[originalribbing]

@bittcnneck | | | continued

"YOU AGREED TO THE EXTERMINATIONS!! YOU!! AGREED!! Can't act above it all when you welcomed me in the first place. Jackass."

Points to wings squeezed tightly to his body; one was fairing fine while the other held close and weak with breaks. Struck hard with offence of the others lack of attention to their shared violence.

"I can't go ANYWHERE like this. Well. Actually."

Now he's thinking...perhaps he could try his luck with those drenched in resentment for the angel.

[underdark-dreams]

Zero people asked for this but BG3 characters as vines

Gale:

"Honey we did it, you're going to be a father" "Babe I'm reading Prisoner of Azkaban what do you want"

Shadowheart:

We all die you either kill yourself or you get killed [dances] what you gonna do

Halsin:

That's what good pussy sounds like

Tav:

Welcome to bible study we're all children of Jesus [Gale snorting an amulet in the background]

Astarion:

"There's only one thing worse than a rapist" "A child" "No"

Wyll:

Don't fuck with me, I have the power of God AND anime on my side

Lae'zel:

"Let me see what you have" "A KNIFE"

Karlach:

69 cents eyyy know what that means. I don't have enough money for chicken nuggets :(

Raphael:

LIPSTICK in my Valentino white bag?

[intoanotherworld23]

Stairs Are Better Anyway

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, this whole thing is pure smut and sex, there’s filthy language, unprotected sex, sex on stairs

Summary: Chris was always a fan of taking the stairs especially with you on it

Hearts, reblogs, and comments are greatly encouraged and appreciated! I love to hear back from everyone on my works!! If you wish to be added to my Chris Evans tag list please do not hesitate to ask I would be more than happy to add more people! Thank you guys so much and enjoy! XOXO

"You just don't know when to stop do you?" Chris grumbled as you laid across the stairs knees bent with your legs spread enticing him even more.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Acting completely innocent in this current situation.

"Oh sweetheart you never learn do you?" Watching as Chris crawled up the stairs until he was hovering above you lips pressed against yours. "Teasing me like that at the party."

His hands were all over you as you wrapped yours around his neck. Gripping onto him when you felt him push his body tightly against you. Feeling how hard he was for you and wiggling your hips just to push him a little bit further.

Chris growling into your mouth as you grinned knowing you got him. Not wasting any time in lifting up the bottom of your dress revealing your laced panties that already had a wet spot forming. Helping Chris unbuckle his pants and push them down his legs to the edge of his ankles.

"This what you wanted?" Mumbling against your lips. "To be fucked like the good little whore that you are."

"Yes." Your panties being pulled to the side a cold breeze hitting your core a shiver running up your spine.

"Tell me how badly you need it Y/N?" He teased as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your now soaked folds. "I want to hear those pretty lips beg for me."

"Chris I need you badly it hurts." Biting your bottom lip as he watched you with hungry eyes. "I want you inside me so badly."

"I don't know sweetheart I'm not believing you." Sighing loudly in frustration as he played his own game with you.

"God Chris please fuck me so hard on these stairs that I can't walk for a week." Pleading up at him as you tried moving your hips hoping you could slip him inside of you.

"That's my good girl."Leaning forward pressing his entire cock inside of you a gasp slipping past your lips. "Holy fuck you are so wet baby."

Lifting his hips back up only to slam down into you. Whimpers and grunts filling the air as he quickly picked up his pace and found a steady rhythm. His head remained pressed into your neck as he nibbled on your skin. His arms enclosed around your head to feel even more close to you.

Moaning loudly into his ear every time he sharply thrusted into your body. Your back pressing into the edge of the stairs, but you pushed through the discomfort, and focused on Chris. Moving your arms so they wrapped around his back. Putting some slight pressure on his lower back to feel more of his movements.

"That's it baby your doing so good for me." Words of praise echoed in your ear when you whined and whimpered for him. "Look at you stuffed full of my cock."

Chris leaned himself up only to watch as his cock would disappear inside of you. Drenched in your arousal making this squishing sound that had him really to start howling like some wild animal. He loved to watch as you would take him so deeply, and was always amazed you took him well every time.

"You want harder baby?" He teased his thrusts becoming slow and sensual. "Does my girl want me to fuck her harder?"

"Please Chris fuck me harder." Gritting through your teeth the frustration you felt never receding.

Rocking himself into your whole body to the point you were afraid you two would break the stairs. Feeling as he unleashed all his energy and power into you both of you in a state of euphoria. Seems like you weren't the only one who needed this either.

"God you look so good getting fucked on the stairs like this." Your left hand gripping the railing of the stairs.

Cheeks felt like they were on fire like someone was sticking a hot poker in front of your face. A drop of sweat descending down Chris's face and onto your chest. Rolling down your chest and in between your breasts. It felt cool for a brief second but then soon evaporated from the heat.

"Just like that." Crying out as your legs wrapped around him like a vine.

"This is all you needed didn't you baby?" His tone mocking as he looked at the pleasure on your face.

The new angle had your toes curling so hard you were afraid they would sprain. You were getting so close you could feel it in the pit of your stomach. Chris didn't once slow down as he pounding into you so deeply he could see a bulge in your stomach.

"That's my good girl so good for me." Pressing his forehead against yours feeling you squeeze around him.

"Oh god Chris I'm gonna cum." Your legs were starting to tremble as your release was vastly approaching.

"Cum hard for me sweetheart." That was the final click in your brain covering him in your arousal.

"Oh fuck baby I'm right there." Groaning with a strained voice as he panted heavily above you his cock twitching violently inside you pumping you full of his warm seed.

Leaning his head back down on your heaving chest as both of you tried to catch your breath. Your legs shaking from your intense orgasm as Chris laid slump on top of your body. Leaving tender kisses on your chest as he helped you come down from your high.

"That's why I love taking the stairs." He joked making you both burst into a fit of laughter.

——————————————

Tag list for Chris Evans: @denisemarieangelina @kimberlydyan @patzammit @tinawritesstuff @princess-evans-addict @cevanstan29 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @inmoix @evansgirl7 @nina-sj @chris-butt @a-moment-captured @suchababie @colinbridgertonisbebe @d3vil-is-my-sugg4rd4ddy @sesamepancakes @justjulie1105 @r2gers @sweetllamaparadise @coldmuffinpartycloud @foxchild-v @evansphnx12 @breezykpop @sunwardsss @nathalienightmare @franfineashell @snowy992 @chrisgirl4 @rainbowkisses31 @mrspeacem1nusone @mayisdelanoche @fantastickoya @seaweedthewhale @eliluv1626 @ccmarvelxx @chelricki96 @justile @maceymae2704 @ysmmsy @cheerup-loki @nostxlgia18 @nicolarobertson89 @evansxchalamet @freerose11 @ace-of-spaids2 @gitasor @december16-1991 @allthingschrisevans @melissad1974 @starry-night-20 @maryann8913 @gh0stgurl @vaseoftulips @danireal17 @seattlexgirl @noplacelikehome77 @evansgal @sherlockzss @deandreamernp @chrisevans-4ever @rookiemartin @lowkeysebby @compulsiveshit @janaev4ns @justreadingficsdontmindme @elrw24 @ccrobbs @fangirl125reader @iminluvwthme @alexxavicry @ttomholland1996 @loumaaria-blog @ilybbg @rogersbarber

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21

[fayes-fics]

Accurate

2k Celebration Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: An argument in a pub garden take an interesting turn...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI. PWP. Alfresco, slightly exhibitionist, oral sex (m to f), vaginal fingering, gagging. Arguing as foreplay. Frenemies to sudden lovers.

Word Count: 1.5k (this is so far from 250 words max its LAUGHABLE)

Authors Note: This is filth. I'm not even sorry. The third of my 2k follower celebration drabble request fills (ask here). prompts: “You heard me. Take. It. Off.” And “I fucking hate you”. Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

He is making you so angry your blood feels like it is boiling in your veins.  He also turns you on so much you feel weak in your knees, which somehow makes you even angrier.

“Fuck off, Bridgerton!” you grouse, stalking away, down the side of the country pub wall, back to the now almost pitch-black pub garden.

���No! How about you listen to me for once, gods sake!!” Benefict gruffs, following you.

It’s so uncharacteristic of him to raise his voice, but he seems just as overwrought as you right now. He screws his eyes shut and throws back his head in frustration, and you can't help but stare at the profile of his prominent Adam’s apple as he swallows heavily, framed as it is by the string of outdoor lights on the fence nearby.

“Listen,” he says, calmer, eyes still shut. “Let’s agree to disagree on this.” 

“Don't do that,” your anger flaring again. “Don’t back down in a fight.”

He tilts his head back down and looks at you incredulously. “You actually want a fight?” He fixes you with a blistering stare and cocks his head to the side, studying you intently as you stand there, hands on hips, breathing heavily, flushed, and irritated. Then something akin to a lightbulb goes off behind his eyes, and butterflies roar to life in your stomach.

“You are aroused by this, aren't you?” it's in a register you've never heard from him before.

You splutter in indignation and flex your hands, not knowing how to answer that very truthful statement. You hate that he's right.

“I fucking hate you,” you spit. An evasion.

He takes a step towards you, and a predatory grin begins to take shape.

“No, you don't,” he challenges.

Another step.

You glance around the deserted pub garden, suddenly cornered, akin to a wild animal trapped by a poacher. And so very, very overheated. 

“Take off your skirt,” he orders apropos of nothing. You stumble on your sandal.

“What??”

“You heard me,” he growls, his voice dropping an octave as he takes another step closer. “Take. It. Off.”

“We are in a bloody pub garden!” you exclaim, but you can't conceal the panting breath it takes to say it.

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snarls, and something floods through your system at how wild his expression is. It's a wash of chemicals, unlike anything you’ve experienced in years. Whoever the fuck this Benedict is, you need him like you need air. 

You back up as he takes another step, and your calves hit the wooden edge of a picnic bench; you have to reach back to stop yourself from toppling over. And yet still, he is advancing on you.

“Sit. Down,” he commands through gritted teeth, right in front of you now.

You have lost all power of speech except the squeak as he grabs your hips and roughly plants you on the tabletop—the lichen cool of the wood slats seeping through the thin cotton of your skirt.

“You need to calm the fuck down,” he opines, pulling your legs open roughly, and you squeak again as air swirls around your soaked underwear. “Cat got your tongue suddenly?” he preens; you can't even look away from his triumphant smirk.

A warm hand encircles your entire kneecap, and you gasp as he runs it up your leg, pushing your skirt up as he goes, his grip encompassing the entire width of your thigh.

“I am going to eat you out; maybe then you will be in a better mood,” he offers casually as your mouth drops open.

“What if I don’t want that?” you counter weakly. A total lie too.

He leans in, his lips brushing your ear. “I can smell that's a lie,” he rumbles.

You make a little noise, halfway between a sigh and a moan; you feel his victorious smile against your cheek as a long finger unfurls its grip around your thigh and brushes featherlight over the gusset of your knickers. You inhale sharply, time standing still for a moment.

Then there is a frenzy of movement as he pushes you down on the tabletop and drops to the bench seat, pushing aside your underwear and driving his face right between your legs, instant heat and suction.

“Holy sh…..” you cry, grasping the wood by your head, needing something to ground you.

He is not even polite about it. Nor is he remotely hesitant, driving his tongue deep into your fleshy folds and groaning as he does so, the vibration shaking your throbbing clit.

“Fuck Ben….” you gasp, your legs falling open wider at the press of his hands on your inner thighs.

His mouth opens wide, and he sucks on your clit so hard you have to swivel and bite your own wrist to stop from yelling. It's all heat and sensation, and it’s dizzyingly fast. But not in a bad way. Just in the sense of sheer intensity.

Then two long fingers plunge into your pussy. You squeal at the shock and then groan at the feel of his wide knuckles pushing you open. 

“Shut up,” he chides, pulling back a fraction, but there is no malice in it; in fact, it sounds bemused and a touch boastful.

For once, you do as you are told. Possibly the first time ever. Folding your lips under your teeth and staring up at the stars, still not certain this isn't some kind of fevered dream.

You are mildly ashamed of the squelching sounds he is wringing from your body, but then he flattens his tongue out wide and pulses it over your nub… and you really don't give a shit anymore. Just so fucking gone on the feeling. Fuck, a group of people could walk out of the pub, and you'd plead with him to just keep going.

He redoubles his efforts, making filthy sodden noises as he pulls your swollen bud hard into his mouth, those sinful fingers hooking deep. You can feel a pull inside, a tense feeling that signals you are so close to coming.

You reach down and grab his hair, which spurs on him, wrapping his hands around your hips and bodily heaving you closer, the wood abrading your bum cheeks.

“I can tell you're teetering now; I can feel those ripples right….” His fingers spear against your g-spot, “...there!” 

You cant help the loud cry that rips from your lungs. Benedict rears back, his fingers withdrawing and leaving you wanting, roughly pulling off the underwear he had merely pushed aside until now. You startle as he looms over you, pulling your jaw down, your mouth dropping open. He shoves your own pants into your mouth, tart and damp.

“I said shut up, didn't I?” he glowers.

You are utterly, utterly gone. This isn't anything like you expected Benedict to be. And fuck, if it isn't so hot, you can't do anything but stare wide-eyed and nod your assent, your clit distended and throbbing painfully in the cold night air. 

“Good,” he nods, then drops out of your eye line.

The ferocity with which he buries his face into you, his nose pressing deep into your flesh, stubble on his chin itching your labia, his tongue swirling, his fingers plunging back into you. It’s a blindingly intense, almost violent, deluge of sensation.

Your yell is muffled by the material in your mouth, and you take deep, snuffled breaths through your nose, throwing your head side to side and digging your fingernails hard into the table as he spirals you higher and higher and higher. Every ounce of your body is held in tension, as if you are fighting your orgasm, not wanting this to end.

With a flick of his fingers and a spear of his tongue, the tide breaks inside; you convulse so hard his fingers are repelled from your body, utterly soaked. Behind your gag, you are screaming nonsense as he has to fight your body, engaging his upper body strength to hold you down and open, his mouth never stopping its assault, dragging it out into something that makes your whole body quiver, teeth grinding on cotton, your vision whiting out.

Then slowly, you are coming back into your own body. He is hovering over you and gently removing your underwear from your mouth, an entirely smug look on his face that gleams with your juices.

“Please, please tell me you are in a better mood now,” he sighs, but he can't help but break into a boyish grin that seems entirely at odds with what he was just doing.

And you are unable to stop the giggle that erupts from inside. “I might be,” you smile back.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, watching your eyes dilate even further. “Oh would you look at that?” he chuckles darkly, “I think I finally know how to get you to behave.”

“Wouldnt you like to try Mr Bridgerton?” you flirt outrageously, your tone intentionally pitched to tease.

“Yes, I fucking would,” he answers, pulling you up and wrapping you into his arms, “you are coming home with me.” 

It's not even a question. It's a statement. And it's wholly accurate.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms

[ghouljams]

HI i need to know what happens to Love after Ghost drags her out of the store please and thank you whehrhw 🥹👉👈

PS IM LOVE U !!!! TQSM FOR ALL THE THINGS YOU WRITE

Uh, they're animals your honor. Something possessed me when i wrote this at like 1am last night... Lets have Ghost do a fun magic trick to make up for my brain rot.

Simon drags you out of Liebling's store with very little convincing. Hardly letting you loose before you're turning to kiss him. Pressing the length of your body against his as you grab his face and pull him down, all tongue and teeth and desperation. His hands grope over your ass, under your thighs, you hop to help him lift you and wrap your legs around him. The jingle of your keys just barely reaches you over the slide of his tongue against yours. You're pressed back against a wall as Simon does... something with your keys.

A lock clicks and the wall behind you swings open, letting you both tumble to the floor. Simon kicks the door shut behind him, his fingers trying to work around yours to get your fly open. Good, you'd hate to be the only one who needs this right now.

"Wicked, devious little thing," he murmurs between kisses, his teeth catch your lip and you taste blood. You haul him closer so he can run his tongue along the split and he groans against your lips. He hardly waits for you to squirm your pants down before his hand is sliding between your legs, fingers rubbing you through the fabric of your panties. "Fuck you are soaked," he really shouldn't sound so pleased with you, it might encourage you to do something like this again, "What are you thinking?"

"Want it to hurt," You mumble, grinding down against his fingers.

"Sweet girl," Simon warns, his fingers hook into your panties, claws slicing the fabric apart as his other hand slides his belt free and his pants down, "always know just what to say."

His thick cock splits you open in one maddeningly deep thrust. The drag of his veins against your tight gummy walls makes you arch into him, clenching against the intrusion. Simon swears and you whine. God he stretches you so good, shapes you to fit him and only him. The roll of his hips is fluid, shallow, keeping you full as you get used to the movement, to the burn.

You don't want to get used to it, you want that hungry power that Liebling had pulled, that desperate clawing aggression. You thread you fingers through Simon's hair, feel your heart flutter at his absolute trust when you pull his head to the side, and you bite him as hard as you can. His hips still, pressed flush against you, its your last warning before his hand closes around your throat and you're yanked off of him. He pins you down to the floor, his claws gouging the wood on either side of your neck. Eyes black, muscles trembling, you feel a very pleased rumbling in your chest at the red mark you've left on him, at the raw aggression in his gaze.

"You're forgetting your place, Love," Simon pulls nearly all the way out of you, and your brain reminds you in a panic that there's always a very real possibility he doesn't fuck you at all. He grabs your legs with his arm and pulls them to the side as he slams back into you so hard it almost hurts, the slap of his skin against yours sure to leave a mark.

God this is what you wanted, what you needed, he's been too gentle with you recently. Not now, now he fucks you without a thought for your comfort, keeping you pinned and twisted how he needs as you dig your fingers into the hand at your throat. He whispers absolute filth to you, "Such a greedy little slut, were you hoping for a show in the shop? Thinking about how badly you wanted my cock while you played your little trick?"

You nod and whine and beg for him. Barely able to think as he pounds that spongey sweet spot in your gushing cunt over and over again. Your skin prickles with sweat and your core burns hot from friction and need. Simon's palm presses against your throat, a solid physical connection, your tethers light up and he shudders pressing deep into you as he cums, dragging you down with him.

His thick seed fills you and you spasm on his cock, gasping his name as you arch your back. You can feel yourself clench around him, feel the way his shoulders tighten and his hips shudder. It might not be fair but you didn't want fair, you wanted this: rough and all magically natural. Your chest heaves as Simon releases his grip on your neck and all but collapses on top of you. Now that your head is clear, you recognize that light.

"Is this our flat?" You ask, staring at the ceiling, Simon presses his face more firmly against your throat, "How'd you do that?"

"Easy magic: you had a key, I made a door. Now shh, trying to forget seeing König hard."

[piracytheorist]

Episode 33 reaction!

*incoherent screaming*

WHY DID THEY MAKE THIS CUTE. WHY DOES IT WORK. I LOVE IT.

Yor talks about how they'll just put them in that inflatable boat and then go to the other ship, but would that really work with the amount of assassins on board? All they'd need to do would be fire with a sniper while the trio were boarding.

Anyway. Caught by the smell, after all. And indeed Yor doesn't seem to have a scent that super-smeller Turtleneck Guy can pick up. Interesting!

I love how Anya didn't even have to negotiate this. She wasn't even direct about it.

Also, it looks like Anya got a little more comfortable hearing a myriad of passionate thoughts around her? Like, remember episode three, where she passed out from the amount of thoughts around her. Here she didn't seem bothered at all and thought she could "look around" for Yor's thoughts. Is that a sign that she's getting stronger and gaining more control of her power?

I love how Yor saw the two guys standing by the hallway and went like "These are probably assassins" and they were indeed assassins.

Okay. This spread is hilarious, with all the different expressions side by side, and I'm glad I had the manga in a physical copy and could see it in all its glory XD

It was so sweet, how Olka tried to calm down Gram 🥺 the voice actress did such a great work there!

They actually fit three full chapters and one short chapter in one episode, and it still didn't feel rushed, what the hell! Like they took their time showing everything. This is amazing.

I love how Gram got excited over jumping around in Yor's arms XD

The sniper got an order to kill the baby too, if possible! The fuck!

Setting a fight between assassins - which includes a lot of shooting - amidst a firework show is brilliant. The plain guests had no idea what was happening just a few meters away from them.

AND YOR GOT HURT!

The difference between their reactions at the other dodging was hilarious. The sniper went like "She dodged that???!?!" and Yor was like "Aw shucks, he dodged it."

Then. Yor. Fucking. DESTROYED. A DAGGER WITH HER BARE FINGERNAILS. What the actual fuck! (I accidentally typo-ed "bear fingernails" there but was it actually incorrect? This woman is a beast!)

And Gram is still having fun! Fireworks? Time to cry. People trying to kill them? Laughing his heart out :D

My god! The assassins coming out, and Yor doing her tricks with her stilettos before preparing her stance? The animators really understand the assignment!

Some good quick action there, McMahon coming to their help and I THINK I MIGHT HAVE SCREAMED WHEN ZEB GOT HIT.

Like they were actually falling and I was like. Please tell me he wore a bulletproof vest. Please tell me he won't die. PLEASE DON'T DIE ;_;

So yeah. I was so relieved to see he had a vest. And it's also funny that they took a humorous tone with that. A bit of an emotional whiplash was expected there XD

There's so much good animation there I can't even begin to comment on it. I'll have to gif a lot tomorrow :D Probably :D

Anyway. THEY MESSED WITH THE WRONG BITCH

Glorious.

McMahon cleaning up! Both preparing to fuck shit up!

I love how Yor apologized for using a guy's dead body as a shield from bullets. Kindness over all!

And then Loid wondering why Anya is still so excited after a long show of fireworks. He would lose his mind as a modern parent whose child could listen to Baby Shark a million times in a row.

A literal bloodshow ensues! Yor killing guy after guy and McMahon cleaning up after her!

Meanwhile, Anya and Loid enjoy the fireworks, and the office dudes win a fortune. Wins all around!

Though shit! The mace guy broke one of Yor's stilettos! Sacrilege!

They didn't pull back. With the soft song accompanying the action, we then get a hilarious (!!) montage of Yor taking out the assassins one by one and HOW DO THEY DO THAT. How is the humor in this show so effective I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. Like, Endo's writing is funny in and of itself, but then the anime manages to pick up from that and use make it over the top! I love it.

Turtleneck guy thinks he's in the position to judge Yor??? Shut up my dude.

So McMahon is a pretty traditional dude, huh. Interesting. And did Turtleneck Guy really go like, "No, YOU will be eaten by sharks!" Like was that the best you could do XD

But then! Things get deeply serious! McMahon isn't dead, is he? O_O (don't answer)

Oh my god there's so much more I can barely comment! The katana guy being over the top! Yor worrying over breaking Loid and Anya's hearts! BECAUSE SHE'LL DIE. The haircut moment XD

But then Yor had her moment of wondering and then got her ass kicked and shit.

It is not clear in the anime, but it looks like in the manga Yor ripped the earring off her earlobe to stop Turtleneck Guy from moving on.

It's kind of tragic, how the Briar siblings ended up. Yor got into a dangerous, soul-eating job to protect Yuri's carefree life, and Yuri, seeing the sacrifices she made for him, did the same for her. They're so desperate to protect each other from the evils of the world, because they're all they have...

But now she's got even more of a motive...

So what if I cry? What if I dissolve into a puddle of tears and feels? So what? T_T

WHAT IF I LOSE MY MIND. BECAUSE HE DOES UNDERSTAND. IT'S THE VERY SAME THING HE DOES.

One last moment of logic that yes, she did rip her earlobe.

And now I continue screaming. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.