#EVERYBODY GETS A LICENSE!

[justaweirdonothingtoseehere]

Me, in a baby voice, gesturing to a picture of Wilson: Does this one deserve a medical license? Does he deserve a medical license? I love him, but probably not!

Idk I made myself laugh maybe my humor is broken idk

[pollyna]

Maverick let's people organise for him birthday parties without sayin' much even if he hates every bit of the event. For his sixty they all are at the O-Club, Rooster is smiling and all the alcohol he wants appears in front of him. He can't say he liked it but he can't say he's sorry to have been there. The next two years are almost the same, it changes the location, Rooster isn't there for is sixty-second because he's away on mission but he receives presents from all his students. Penny is still around, still kissing him slowly and softly, still making him use the window to leave the house because he doesn't want to settle down and she doesn't want to settle for his idea of what they are. Some day it works some other they end up asking eachother what, why, are they doing themselves.

Then April comes around again and Penny is thinking of something special, not as big as for his sixtieth, and maybe just the two of them? But when the 12th actually comes around Maverick is nowhere to be found. Rooster is around, Mav's favourite cake is in the fridge, Penny's picnic spot is reserved. Maverick's phone is turned off and his bike is parked in front of his house.

The call comes around four, when everyone is a second away from loosing their collective minds, and Sarah's voice is as gentle and firm as possibile when she explains that Maverick is at her house and he needs a little more time to process. She doesn't say he spent all day in Tom's bedroom or he called out for him and Goose at some point, after the seventh or eighth beer. She let's them know he is safe and probably going to crush there, no need to come and pick him up. He will find his way back, she concludes before she hang ups the call.

Maverick comes back, the next day, smelling like a distillery and misery, if misery had a smell. He doesn't offer explanation nor touches a piece of his cake before disappearing again, this time in his own bedroom. It takes a week, of erratic behaviour and having to fight him on every single little thing, before he can find the strength to say I don't want to do anything for my birthday, next year.

And so it is, for a lot of the years that follows his sixty-third birthday Penny doesn't organise anything, his classes are still sending him little presents and Maverick just disappears in the Kazansky's house for a day and then come back. Sarah never say what they do when Maverick's around and Penny is almost terrifyed of the answer, even when she can't tell herself why.

The answer comes a couple of days after his sixty-eighth birthday, when they're all sitting around a restaurant table for Rooster's promotion, that Maverick spills it out and probably only his godson was suppose to hear about that but Penny is just too curious: Tom ha-had a pile of VHD, almost twenty of them, with long videos of our year at TOPGUN and a lot of other random moments in life. They're there, frozen in time, Ice and your dad and so many others, and I'm there with them. I'm with them there, back when we were young and I wasn't alone. I know is selfish but they give me the best birthdays, even without the cake and the alcohol. I miss them a year, every day, and it's already been so hard being older than your dad but the day I turned sixty-three I realised Ice wasn't never going to be sixty-four and it kinda shuttered me? I miss them more than anything Bradley, more than even flying.

Rooster is crying, Penny is crying too, and Maverick isn't looking at them but at the sky probably dreaming of planes, family bonds and love that has never really faded away. The only thing Penny can actually do is to hug Pete a little longer and a little tighter than usual, the cold of the metal of his, their, dogtags against her chest and the sound of a single beating heart that follows a complete different rhythm than hers.

[montydrawsstuff]

Sneak peek of page one of chapter 9… freaking FINALLY right?

[pepprs]

discovered miah_pie on t*ktok (<- i don’t have one btw i just stumbled upon her bc someone i follow on ig talked abt her) and her videos make me want to cry so bad. 24 year old dependent moment

[loveletterworm]

at least  can you try to not literally be wrong about things csp isn’t “introducing subscriptions” they have literally had subscriptions forever. they’ve always been there you would know this if you ever went through the process of buying the software.  they are simply pioneering a brand new payment model that’s the most confusing thing on earth that nobody could possibly hope to understand

[a1sh1teruu]

i need someone to kick my ass and tell me to get that license bc what the actual fuck

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

They will warn you about how much harder it is to keep friendships going after you graduate, but you will get cocky about it because “now we have the internet so that’s not a problem” that is your brain’s hubris. It’s is still hard to keep friendships alive as adults even with the help of the internet. Everybody has jobs or kids or school or medical problems and people move farther away and if you can’t drive it’s even harder. Then someone dies and it gets really complicated. You can make internet friends and that’s great but you probably won’t ever meet in person and so you will just be stuck with social media and maybe the phone as your tethers to friendships. It sucks and probably wasn’t an issue when everyone lived in villages and met up at church or the town grocery store but we don’t anymore, even IN small towns, and many young people just want to get away from those places for a variety of reasons. Sometimes even just moving to a slightly bigger town with TWO grocery stores. Everyone moving makes it even harder to meet up and if you don’t have a car and or can’t drive then fuck you I guess. I’m sure that friendships made in big cities come with their own extra/different problems. But everything is so hard so much

[slut4jeon]

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer (jjk)

Officer!Jk x fem reader

Summary: Tiredly calling it a night after attending your workplaces celebration New Year's Eve party. You may have or not ran through a stop sign foolishly thinking no one would have been around to witness it…oh how wrong you were

Warnings: mature (18+), smut, degradation, unprotected sex, Voyeurism, don't read this if this does not interest you!! You have been warned!

I had this prepared early Jan but tumblr didn’t save my writing :(( so I gave up on it lmao. I also really wanted to write smth w tsx jungkook. The police trend w the Lana song gave me inspo for this although the actual trend isn’t in the fic.

-

You were calling it a night, exiting the noisy building that is your workplace. There was a currently a party in the building where your coworkers were celebrating the New Year's.

You were tired. The loud music and chatters annoying you. You chose a safer route tonight, sticking to sparkling cider since you were driving yourselves home tonight.

The cold air hitting your bare skin leaving goosebumps over your entire figure as youstep out into the windy area heading towardsyour parked car.

That's the consequence of wanting to look good and presentable for a celebration, you of course always look stunning. It doesn't hurt to get ready. You were currently sporting a black ysl mini along with a deep v neckline and a pair of matching black pumps. The shoes, also annoying by how sore they left your feet.

Black heels clicking onto the floor as you begin entering your car as you drove into the pitch black night. Admiring the way the twinkling city lights look, along with the lit up buildings and lampposts. You got a little too carried away when you were oblivious to the stop sign you foolishly didn't stop and passed by.

Regret lingered in your chest as you panicked over your foolish action. Perhaps you'd be fine as it is the late night and no cars were present, oh how wrong you were.

The sound of a police siren began ringing as the bright red and blue lights gaining up on the tail of your car. You pulled onto the side of the road swiftly and put your car in park. Your trembly hands gripping both hands onto the steering wheels most definitely leaving your palms and knuckles white. That's when you heard 3 knocks on your left side window.

"Shit" you muttered. Feeling a rise of mixed movement in your lower belly as you begin lowering your window. There you met the gaze of a handsome officer.

"Driving late on New Years Day? When everybody's drinking and celebrating tonight. License and registration." He spewed with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yes, of course." Your hand quickly traveled to your glove compartment pulling out the documents. Then, pulled your license from your clutch.

As he inspected you couldn't help but gaze at him. His raven black sleek parted hair showing off a bit of forehead. His black button up dress shirt that was tucked in the matching black jeans, and rolled up from the sleeves stopping before the elbows to show off his meaty arms that were covered in artworks of tattoos.

The stern look he holds as looking at your documents. The burrowed brow and line wrinkles in between the brows. He was attractive, godly attractive.

"Step out the vehicle for me" he said. You did as told

You couldn't help but gaze at him. He was an attractive specimen. But soon you were ripped out of your thoughts.

"Walk along that yellow line"

"Officer I'm not drunk or anything of the sor-" you were interrupted

"You were given instructions. I expect you to follow them." he bluntly said

Obeying his words you stepped foot onto the yellow line. The cold air doing you no justice as you were trembling from it.

What you weren't aware of was how he stared at your ass that was threatening to spill out of the little piece of flimsy material you call a dress.

Turning around, his gaze caught you off guard at how he stared at you as a helpless little fawn about to be hunt down by a hungry wolf.

"I'm gonna pat you down. Step right by the car for me, palms flat onto the vehicle", he demanded.

Swiftly obeying, you got into position. Beginning his pat down inspection from head to toe. His muscular hands roamed over your body. You wondered whether your goosebumps was from the cold wind or his slithering fingers tracing over your open skin.

As he got lower and lower, padding the waist and soon hips he made sure to grope onto your flesh just in case of any dangerous possessions.

You were a whimpering mess, biting into your bottom lip to suppress any noise coming out of your mouth. The attractive officer had an effect on you. Especially when passing your thighs and ankles, rising back to the top his movement slowed as he reached back to your thighs.

You let out suppressed mewls as his fingers inched towards your inner thighs. Your legs were gonna give up at any threatening moment. You questioned whether he caught onto your reaction to his touch.

His fingers were dangerous close to your soaking cunt. You were took aback at his touch you could not longer suppress the noises that urged to come pass your lips. Your heat was aching for his touch.

He took notice to your glistening folds in with your juices threatening to spill out of your wine red lace panties. The officer could no longer resist the temptation of the sweet treat in front of him.

Riding your dress a bit up his face inched closer to your cunt, nose and all. Hooking his fingers onto your panties and pushing them aside, he ate you out from behind. Your knees about to give in as he ate your pussy like a starved man. His tongue lapped over your clit playing with the cute bud left you a whiny mess.

"Please” you voiced out quietly

How cute, the officer thought. His fingers lathered your juices, leaving them coated and dripping. The sudden intrusion of his long fingers intruding into the tight ring of your hole.

With your mouth agape, your mind was left into a frenzy at how good the officer worked his fingers into your soaking cunt.

"Clenching onto my fingers, aren't you a little eager thing?", he said

You looked back to him to see his pretty pouty lips all swollen and tinted from eating you out. Your juices trailing down his chin and neck. He looked too edible.

He sensed you were near as your gummy walls clamped onto his fingers. Quickly pulling them out and robbing you of your release you mewled at the empty feeling.

You were a minx he thought. His cock hardening and imprinting his jeans. The feeling got only tighter as his fingers savored the taste of your pussy juices that coated his index and middle.

He needed more. Turning your body swiftly around the officer face to face with you connected both mouths together. His hands sneaked onto your hips and lower onto your ass making sure to grip the plumpy flesh.

You couldn't help out moan into his mouth as you both were in ecstasy. You needed more.

"Need to fuck that pussy, will you let me pretty thing?", who were you to deny him?

Eagerly nodding your head in confirmation. "Words, pretty", the officer said

"Please fuck me", you said in a desperate manner. That's all it took for him to roughly turn you around and begin grinding his hard length into your ass.

Desperate for friction you pushed out for him, like a bitch in heat. Your dress being a nuisance for him he unzipped you, freeing your bare body to be in display of his hungry eyes.

You wore no bra as the dress had padding, all you were left in was your wine lace panties. His lips traveled from your neck to breasts. Scattering marks as if he were leaving burns.

The way his teeth clamped onto your bud, sucking and pulling. Something about the way you were fully bare at his mercy as he remained fully clothed while he played with your pussy had you rubbing your thighs together.

"Officer please, fuck me!", you could no longer take it.

He smirked at your eagerness. Finding it humorously cute at how much of a cock hungry whore you are.

Your ears perked at the noise of him fumbling with his belt. His cock sprung free fully erect as he began aligning it to your entrance.

"O-oh! Fuck.., officer!", you blabbered incoherently as the intrusion of his length stretched your hole.

"-shit, such a tight little pussy", his pace greedily fastened.

You were a mess. All that was heard in the quiet night was the way he rammed his cock into your pussy. Balls slapping against your clit.

"Such a whore you are, aren't you? You like getting rammed from behind by an officer out in the outdoors?" he said as he continued abusing your cunt.

"Who would've thought a pretty thing like you was such a dirty slut, huh?" Your walls clenched by each word coming out of his filthy mouth.

"yes!yes!yes!", he fucked you deliciously good, your orgasm threatening to approach with his current pace.

You were cock drunk. Barely paying any kind of attention to the fact you were getting rammed out in public. Any person or car could pass by but your mind would only be focused on the way his dick drilled at a relentless speed.

His fingers sinked to your clit, rubbing your bud provoking your body to tremble in ecstasy of how he worked wonders on your body.

"Sir, i-it's too much!"

"You can take it ,baby. Milk my cock, make a mess.”

His words were perfectly on cue. Creaming his cock in your release. Falling limp into his arms. His release wasn't too far off yours. Head leaning into your neck as both of your panted. Silence went on for a few minutes before he helped with re-dressing you.

The officer broke the silence, "So, the names Jungkook. Could we perhaps exchange numbers, I'd like to take you out sometime soon.”

- end

[scientia-rex]

Seems unfair that I’ve been telling Machiavelli Dad stories for literal years and people still accused me of making him up. I ASSURE you I could not possibly create this man in fiction. He has an IQ in the 150s. He cares about IQ, so you know he’s a dick. He grew up in abject rural poverty and clawed his way through an associate’s degree in electrical engineering that no one wanted him to or thought he could get. He showed up to the final of one class drunk off his ass because his professor had said at the beginning, jokingly, that if anyone got their electrician’s license before the end of the class, they would have an automatic A, and of course he did. He met my mom when he parked in her spot at their apartment complex that did not, let me assure you, have assigned spots and she yelled at him. He read bedtime stories (mostly about trains and how electronics work) to me every night until I was at least like 8. His friend and roommate in that first apartment building tried to kill my mother’s Siamese cat (they owned at least like 6 over time) in a rage by shutting it in a cooler; it was freed in time. He got so mean by the time I was 12 that I remember one day he came home from work when me, my mom, and my sister were standing around the top of the stairs and without saying a word to each other we just scattered; he said, like he was angry-joking, “why is everybody running away?” And I said to him, “we’re scared of you.” I don’t remember what happened next. Dad didn’t beat us, but he’d threaten. He’d take off his belt and snap it as a threat. He once lived with a guy who made his own nitroglycerin as a hobby and threatened to detonate an entire dorm when his girlfriend left him. That friend once accidentally bought two boa constrictors. The reason Dad and I stopped talking was when I texted them that I had cancer and they left me on read. The reason I stopped talking to Dad was that I finally realized the word for what he did to all of us was abuse. He built a swing set in our back yard using two retired telephone poles he got from work. The ropes were so tall you could spin the swing up enough to unwind for like 4 straight minutes with zero effort. He thought about becoming a lineman once and practiced climbing on those swing set telephone poles. Hornets nested in there afterwards.

If I were going to create a fictional father, I would either love him more or love him less.

[dunne-ias]

The Barkley Marathons just had its first female finisher ever.

If you do not know what the Barkley Marathons is, then it is time you learn, because it is not just an ultra running race, it is INSANE.

But I'm so happy. They said it was getting less and less likely any woman would ever finish it (it gets harder each year), but now Jasmin Paris has done it.

Here are some things that make the Barkley Marathons unique:

The length is unknown. It's at least 100 miles, but who knows? Not even the participants, because they're not allowed GPS-trackers. There are five loops in total.

They're allowed map and compass. That's it. No GPS watches.

On every loop, they have to find about a dozen books, tear out a page that matches their bib number and bring them all back, or they don't get to continue onto the next loop.

There are only 40 people participating every year.

How to apply? I don't know. Most people don't. It's a secret to everybody actually.

The race fee is super low, but you have to bring a license plate and give to the race director as part of your registration

They don't get to know exactly when the race starts. The race director will blow a conch during a 12h window and then it's an hour until the start. Instead of a starting gun, he'll light his cigarette, and then the race is off.

The max amount of time is 60h, which doesn't give you time to complete the five loops and also catch some sleep in between loops.

It's been going for almost 40 years, and up until the 2024 edition, ONLY 17 people had finished EVER. That's how hard it is. Most years, no one finishes at all.

This year, there were five finishers, and like I said, for the first time, a woman finished. It's really impressive.

[ms-demeanor]

Hi there! Firstly, wanna say a huge thank you: your blog has inspired me to become more educated about cybersecurity and nutrition, and it’s the reason my brother and I now use Firefox! I came across this article and… it seemed to raise a lot of valid points about Mozilla, but I have no idea if they are true or not since I’m not that knowledgeable about tech, and they go against everything I’ve ever heard about Firefox. Wanted to ask if you wouldn’t mind giving it a quick read, if that’s not too much trouble, and explaining why it’s false/true? If you can, ofc, I realise that is a weird request, and I promise it&: not something I’d usually ask someone. I just thought I’d ask since you’re the only sort of ‘tech’ person I can think of whom I’d trust to know stuff about this. https://digdeeper.neocities.org/articles/mozilla

So this is a great example of someone reading a ToS uncharitably and extracting the most paranoid bullshit possible.

Aside from the absolute classic "oh noes they are storing info about what devices you use" (if you use firefox logged in mozilla will collect information about what device and OS you use to connect; they do this for a lot of reasons like figuring out what stuff the bulk of their users are using but also because *they can't display on your device without that data*) I want to zoom in on this as an example:

BTW, there is one really funny thing inside the account ToS (MozArchive) that I just have to mention: "We may suspend or terminate your access to the Services at any time for any reason, including [...] our provision of the Services to you is no longer commercially viable." The fuck? If you stop bringing them profit, you're gone. They really said that! To me, this is a roundabout admission that your data is being sold. And if it's not worth much (for whatever reason), then you get kicked out.

This person is highlighting the idea that they may cut you off from services if the provision of those services is no longer commercially viable. This author is saying "FIREFOX WILL BOOT YOU WHEN YOU STOP BEING A PROFITABLE LITTLE PAYPIG FOR THEM"

But. Okay. Let's go look at that section of the ToS:

These Terms will continue to apply until ended by either you or Mozilla. You can choose to end them at any time for any reason by deleting your Mozilla account, discontinuing your use of the Services, and if applicable, unsubscribing from our emails. We may suspend or terminate your access to the Services at any time for any reason, including, but not limited to, if we reasonably believe: (i) you have violated these Terms, (ii) you create risk or possible legal exposure for us; or (iii) our provision of the Services to you is no longer commercially viable. We will make reasonable efforts to notify you by the email address associated with your Mozilla account or the next time you attempt to access the Services. In all such cases, these Terms shall terminate, including, without limitation, your license to use the Services, except that the following sections shall continue to apply: Indemnification, Disclaimer; Limitation of Liability, Miscellaneous.

Bud. This says "we are not obligated to provide services to you and we may stop providing services that cost us more money to maintain than is viable." This isn't about selling your data, this is about backwards compatibility and sunsetting projects. They don't have to keep providing access to services they're no longer developing nor bend over backwards to make sure that you can keep running a version of the browser that uses the extensions they dropped support for ten years ago.

Ugh. I got to the section where they talk about cucking for manifest3 and jesus this asshole. Manifest 3 is a defacto set of web standards that are changing because google has so much market share as a browser that if they do something everybody else has to follow or they're going to break basic functionality; if they don't make these changes eventually a shitload of websites just will not work on firefox. WAY more than currently experience this problem. Nobody is happy about manifest 3 and the fact that mozilla put out a press release about coming manifest 3 changes (that was not positive!) doesn't mean they're happy about getting dragged along by the nose; this blogger would prefer something like them refusing to adopt those standards, but all that would happen is that they'd lose more users because less shit would work on firefox browsers since people write their sites for chrome first and anything else second if at all.

This writer also gripes a lot about things like "mozilla took away this functionality for the sake of security and SURE you can change that by going into the configurations but it should be an option right in the first panel of the settings what are they really trying to hide???" and they're not trying to hide anything bud they're trying to make a functional browser with intuitive menus for people who aren't power users.

Like they want to be able to do everything they want and they want to be able to see the option in front of them at all times. It's a weird combination of "I know how to configure everything about this browser" and "if a setting is ever hidden behind a readmore it's a dark pattern and is an attack on user privacy." Like they gripe a lot about privacy and then link to a bunch of pages on mozilla where they explain their privacy settings and link to tutorials on how to hide the data that they just explained they collect.

Yeah this is someone I would walk away from in order to avoid getting into a fistfight.

"FOSS licenses are nice but they don't ensure quality" nobody said they did.

"FOSS licensed softwares don't always accept user participation in development" nobody said they did

"I can't change the actual code of firefox to remove things that I don't like don't tell me to fork it it has to be all or nothing mozilla specifically has to do what I want or it's user hostile" I can see why it would be hostile to you as a user fuck you dude this is why forks *exist* (also the "spyware" discussed is basic browser tracking stuff, the realistic necessities of how email work that make it not private by default like the PROTOCOLS are not private you can't get around that, and a lot of the stuff is opt out but improves functionality for day to day users, AND a lot of the tracking is specifically for people with logged-in accounts which are not necessary to use firefox like if you hate pocket don't use it my friend! I also hate pocket it is quite simple to never use it thanks)

"There's no justification for making the source code unavailable" my dude. https://hg.mozilla.org/mozilla-central/

"If they really cared about an open internet they'd work toward killing capitalism." Friend. I think there's very little more that a web browser could do to undermine the capitalist nature of huge chunks of the web and maintain a broad userbase than what firefox is doing.

I'm reminded of the time that I saw someone losing their shit about a linux distro that included chrome as *a* browser - not the default browser, but *a* browser.

It is an unpleasant fact that a lot of firefox's funding comes from google. That's part of why google is still the default search engine in Firefox and I read some similar articles decrying mozilla's residence firmly in Google's pocket a few years ago. I don't think there's anyone at mozilla who is genuinely pleased that their cheques are signed by google, but there are a ton of people at mozilla who are happy they can keep the lights on because getting paid by google means that they can do as much as they possibly can to create a functional browser that has a significant interest in privacy by default and that can be made *VERY* private by a dedicated user.

Anyway a lot of the stuff on this post is things like "a certificate expired five years ago and broke extensions and that means that mozilla is incompetent and hates users" or "eleven years ago there was a slapfight in the bug reporting forums between a user and a mod and the fact that the user was kicked after repeatedly being told his fix wasn't going to get made is censorship."

The big beefs at the center of this post are:

Mozilla collects data on users

Mozilla limits functionality that should be up to the users

Mozilla takes money from google

and my refutations are:

it does, and it is less than any other mainstream browser and is much much more transparent about what data is collected and how to prevent that data from being collected

A lot of the functionality they're discussing is still there and the stuff that isn't is allowing unsigned extensions which, dude, put a fork in it. They're not going to budge on unsigned extensions but the bar you have to clear to get signed is really really low; like this guy is LITERALLY saying "allow the installation of malicious extensions."

Yep. They do. This point reminds me of a lot of the people on tumblr who hate ads but also hate it when people pay for tumblr. As it turns out making things costs money, and making things used by millions of people costs *A LOT* of money.

I mean FFS one of the things this writer complains about is that Mozilla has a YouTube page.

This isn't just letting perfect be the enemy of good, it's letting perfect be the enemy of *functionally existing as a large organization in the modern world.*

Anyway, I'm glad you enjoy my blog, thank you for letting me know!

[idesofrevolution]

The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

[irisintheafterglow]

volleyball player bf!suguru never lets you drive anywhere. ever.

the silver volleyball charm clinks against the rest of the items swinging tauntingly above your head. it was the charm you bought him while your family was off on vacation, and now you were silently cursing the recipient's stubbornness.

"give me the fucking- what the hell are you doing?" curse him and his unnaturally long limbs. you jab a finger at his torso, colliding with immovable ab muscle; he doesn't even flinch, continuing to hold the keys just out of reach. your arm swings hopelessly back and forth, trying to hook a finger onto the keyring. it'd been about six minutes, you guessed, since you were supposed to leave with suguru to meet satoru and shoko at the restaurant. you could already imagine the melodrama of having satoru be the one to ask for a table for four. "babe, please give me the-"

"nope. get in," he states evenly with the slightest raise of his eyebrows. with one hand, he dangles the keys and opens the passenger side door with the other.

"we're gonna be late."

"you better get your sexy ass in the car, then, my distinguished president." he tries to keep his voice stoic and fails miserably, a smirk sneaking its way onto his face. "i'm driving."

"i said i would drive."

"and who's holding the keys?" you roll your eyes and poke his side again, but his resolve is unwavering. his head tilts toward the open side door again. "c'mon, we gotta go."

"you really don't need to do all of this anymore," you concede before stepping into the vehicle.

"yeah, but i still want to," he replies before shutting the door. his pretty mouth quirks in satisfaction and he arrogantly spins the keys on his finger while he walks around the front of the car, sliding into the driver's seat next to you. his bicep flexes next to your ear as he backs out of the driveway of your apartment complex. when he's on the road, his hand finds your thigh and unconsciously rubs circles on your skin with his thumb. despite the affection, your irritation is obvious.

"you mad at me?"

"not mad," you mutter, "just annoyed."

"that i'm driving?"

"that you insist on driving even though i got my license months ago. it's like... you don't trust me." you shrug and stare back out at the blurry cityscape passing by. he exhales deeply and you hear the tiniest "shit" from beside you. his hand leaves your thigh to drag it over his face guiltily before returning to the wheel.

"you know why i insist on driving you everywhere, right?" you nod. even before he officially became your boyfriend, suguru was asking if you needed a ride to a conference or event after just knowing you for a few weeks. he's always on time, always meets you at the door, always waits on your bedroom floor if you're still getting ready. watching you prepare for a date, he said, was one of his favorite things in the world.

"because you're used to it." your face starts to burn in shame, embarrassment rising at the memory of everyone around you having their license while you just kept failing over and over and over. it was even harder and took much longer to explain why you didn't like driving in the first place, how being behind the wheel was a level of responsibility you still weren't sure how to handle. how pathetic, being the administrative head of all the student activities in your school and yet you still needed your parents to give you a ride. it was the biggest weight on your shoulders, feeling like a burden to everybody else, but suguru was adamant that he didn't mind.

"because i want to do it. i never wanna have you worrying about needing a ride or driving somewhere ever again." his eyes shine in the fading afternoon sun, soft and tender as his voice. "you're too incredible to be worrying about shit like that, so let me take care of it. let me take care of you."

"i love you...more than anything."

"i love you too, babe."

"even though you cart me around everywhere?"

"especially because you let me cart you around everywhere," he winks. i'm gonna marry you someday, geto suguru. "can you let satoru know we're almost there and for him to grab a table if he hasn't already?" you chuckle at his earnestness and he raises an eyebrow in question.

"you have too much faith in him, su." his mouth falls open in exasperation and you have to push his face back to focus on the road.

"he hasn't left yet? we said 6:00!" he huffs, blowing a strand of hair from his forehead only for it to fall back into place. your fingers gently brush it away and tuck it behind his ear.

"he runs on satoru time, what do you expect?"

"whoever let him get behind a wheel needs their sanity checked," he concludes as he pulls into a spot and you're trying to stifle your giggles. "whatever," he sighs in defeat.

"it's okay. just gives you more time to keep showing how much you love me."

driving people is a love language, argue with the wall but anyway hope you enjoyed

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

[whowantslovergirl]

Spoiling you

JJ Maybank x kardashian rich! reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: jj being made fun of (jokingly),cursing, established relationship, kissing, Y/N being a triggering type of rich LIKE WHAT YOU MEAN 500,000 DOLLARS IS CHEAP, just cute fluff

outer banks masterlist

Summary: Y/N loves spoiling JJ

posted: January 9,2024

When Y/n the richest girl on the island and JJ the poorest guy on the island got together everybody thought they were doing some big dumb joke. But it was definitely real.

JJ’s friends always make fun of him for it of course jokes only. Y/n’s friends always say she can find better but she is never budging.

Only downside for JJ is that Y/n’s love language is giving gifts and she loves spoiling him. He always says how it’s not needed but she doesn’t care. One time he came to hang out with the newest phone, even Kie didn’t have it yet.

“Woahhh new phone Jay?” John b says seeing the phone. “Fuck off alright yes I have a new phone.”

“Y/n got it for you?” Pope asked. “Of course she got it for me. I told her I didn’t need this but she got it anyway.”

“I think it’s sweet that she gives you stuff for no reason.” Kie said playing with the phone.

Of course JJ loved the phone but he just likes earning things instead of it being handed to him.

______

“Ok close your eyes!” Y/n said while looking for his gift. “Y/n I swear if it’s something big-.”

“Shut up! Ok hold out your hands.” He did and he felt a box in his hand. “Ok open!” And he did.

It was a watch and not any watch,

a fucking Rolex. The newest model at that.

“Y/n what the fuck! This is like a 500,000 dollar watch!”

“Do you like it? I even got it customized for you. It has P4L in the band. And don’t worry about the price, pretty cheap for Rolex.

Only Y/n would think half a million is cheap.

“Yea I love it but I can’t accept this. I just know this was lot of money.”

“Yes you can and you will! Ok? I love you.”

“I love you too Y/n” and they shared a kiss.

“And you better wear this all the time it was such a pain to get this.”

_____

“A Rolex?!” Kie exclaimed.

“JJ do you know how much these are?” Pope asked and JJ nodded.

“She spent half a mil on me.”

“What the fuck?!” They all exclaimed.

______

JJ and Y/n were walking around with their hands intertwined.

“Wanna play 21 questions Jay?” He just nodded.

“What’s your dream car?”

His eyes widened. “Y/n you’re not getting me a car are you? I don’t even have a license!”

“No of course not! Just asking?” He didn’t believe you but after a lot of convincing, he gave in.

“Fine a nice starter car would probably be a dodge challenger.”

He’s so gullible.

“Alright cool I will be right back ok?”

He nodded and knew something was up.

_____

All the pogues were chilling around the front by the lake and they hear music blasting. They all turn and see a black car with a red bow on it.

Y/n stepped out of the car.

“Surprise Jay!”

They all just stood there.

“A fucking car!” Pope yelled.

“Oh my god I might get it with Y/n.” John B said.

“Y/n what is this!” JJ said walking up to her.

“It’s your car and I’m paying for your license and anything you need so you can actually drive it. Do you not like it?”

“I love it! It’s just a car?!”

“Look at the interior!”

He did and he can’t lie the inside is pretty sick. The drivers seat has his initials in it and the passenger seat has yours in it.

He fucking loves it.

He ran up to you and gave you a big hug and you giggled. “I’m taking it that you love it?” He just nodded enthusiastically. You hand him the keys and he instantly gets in with you and take it for a test drive.

You love spoiling JJ.

THREE MONTH BREAK IS CRAZY but im backkkkkkkk 👅👅👅👅

[thatdeadaquarius]

Okay so-- i was reading some sagau posts and came across this one where the reader was an army vet and my brain just Did Its Thing--

So now I'm here to inflict this on to you--

Would guns be considered as catalysts. And would they only do Phys Damage.

Me reading this ask:

😶 😐 🤨 🧐 🧐 😰 🥲 😭😭😭 💀

STOP YOU'VE INFLICTED ME WITH PSYCHOLOGICAL DMG FROM THIS ASK 😭

(Also srry took so long to respond, when i didnt realize how short this was/was just sitting over here 😓)

^ For the sake of gun imagery being a lot/maybe staff might hate me for it,

we'll put this gay shit instead (i almost mispelled to "gay shot" lmao)

☆

Sun: Army Veteran Reader, Gender neutral Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: SHORT Headcanons

Stars: everybody bc i think itd be funny

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: gun stuff, mild violence, mild cursing & Trigger Warnings: Gun fun everywhere

THIS ASK HAS ME GIGGLING TO MYSELF LIKE A MANIAC

You're out here having a whole gun they let you take for off-base

And u ofc have a license so u can conceal carry

(idk how non-american gun laws work, but tbh ours are so fucked idk how they work here either, just that an army guy i knew once could have his gun when he got back home)

And ofc ur just paranoid enough (more like it just makes u feel safe)

That when u get yoinked into a portal to a silly little brightly colored gacha game fantasy world, the gun comes with 💀

Id like to add in my silly little "ur in a video game, so video game rules" AU version of genshin so:

The only other gun (ish) wielder (Mika) has unlimited bolts

Sooo I'd think your gun would be the same jfc lol

NO BC YOUD SCARE THE ACTUAL SHIT OUT OF EVERYONE IN UR VICINITY IN A BATTLE

BC GUNSHOTS ARE A DIFFERENT TYPE OF LOUD

When u first stumble into abyss monsters/hostile creatures of the realm, u nearly scare off a Lawlachurl bc every shot's like thunder to these bitches😭

So not only the monsters but the vision holders think u fucking summoned lightning

OMG THE BULLETS ARE SO FAST THEYD PROBABLY NOT SEE IT

ESP BC DISTRACTED BY GUNSHOT LOUDNESS

SO U AIM THIS LITTLE BLACK CROSSBOW (???) AND THINGS JUST DIE (OR GET RIDDLED WITH HOLES) WITH NO CLEAR ARROW STICKING OUT

STOPP- you're becoming a witchy god or smth to all of Teyvat bc it just looks like hella high level magic atp to them LMAOOO

Rumors of you get out of hand and say u just point or snap ur fingers and things get wounded/just die on the spot 💀

Oh another difference between Teyvatians seeing ur gun vs. crossbow (what they know)

Is that guns are wayyyy more destructive

Like an arrow would get shot but it'd bounce off of things like rock or wood or metal, maybe dent a little depending on how close

But a bullet goes thru that shit so easy, and leaves a whole little explosion behind, once again depending on range

(I once saw a Mythbusters episode? of them proving bullets would definitely go thru car doors, like movies lied to u, this is why drive-bys acc work like for gangs)

Lmao, the image of you in like full armor with a Teyvat made automatic gun after showing it to blacksmiths

Makes u just more convincing as a god, esp bc military training

(Ppl like Gorou and Kokomi begging for military tactics/training ur world has done)

...

....Ok.

I'll address it.

But only so u dont think im stupid later.

Yes, the Fatui have guns.

No, this not the same as having a glock LMAO

End of story.

(Also, urs runs on bullets, whereas the Fatui rely on magic/delusions to power theirs, plus they dont seem as fast or destructive as urs, more "explosions aimed at you" than real bullets)

Which,,, u leave the managing of ppl copying ur gun to ppl like the Qixing or smth, but make sure to give them advice on good gun laws if teyvat accidentally revolutionizes bc of ur advanced gun that anybody can wield (non-vision users)

Thats the best ive got abt that

Oh, also enjoy being praised as a War god now.

:)

☆

... dammit i had smth i was gonna tell u guys-

Uh what tf was it, it was important

OH

Next post is the Eldritch God Oneshot! Look out for it :) !!

☆

Safe Travels Kid,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

[blippymilk]

Clay Headcannons (Romantic)

Genre: Fluff, Romantic

Warnings: None

A/N: I love Clay so much so I genuinely enjoyed writing this 🤗

✩ The best boyfriend you could ever ask for hands down

✩There’s quite litteraly no one like Clay

✩ You fell first but he definitely fell harder

✩ Words of affirmation + physical touch kinda guy

✩ In the beginning of your relationship he’s not very touchy especially not in public

✩ But once he gets attached it’s over 🫡

✩ Always has to be touching you in some way

✩ Hand holding, waist hugs, neck kisses, and anything else you can think of

✩ Even when he’s working in his office he doesn’t mind you sitting on his lap as he works

✩ You had to be the one who could convince this man that it’s ok to be serious AND fun sometimes

“But what if people think I’m too silly again? My fun boy Clay days are over.” :((

“But there’s also nothing wrong with having fun from time to time too sweetie.”

✩ Wasn’t very open to expressing his emotions before he met you

✩ You had to let him know that it was ok to rant to you (and he’s still adjusting but he’s way better at it now)

✩ Please join his sad book club ok >:((

✩ Best dancing partner. EVER.

✩ If you’re at a party with Clay and there’s a dance floor

✩ Everybody getting left in the dust. Including you after a period of time 😭

✩ This man has past experiences with his boy band so he never lost his moves. If you can push him out of his comfort zone for the night, he’s gonna end up the center of attention.

✩ Clay’s not no mean troll, but he will got to war for his s/o and that’s a fact

✩ He can be very extra without realizing it, especially with the little details (bcs that’s just who Clay is :D)

✩ Don’t let him catch you singing any of his Brozone songs (especially his part). He will be all over you for the rest of the day, teasing you and kissing every inch of your face until no area goes untouched

✩ Wanna get Clay flustered? Tell him he has a beautiful voice and you love to hear him sing

✩ Will 100% start humming to you before bed

✩ You’re the reason Clay started to let up and not focus on working 24/7, 24 hours a week. And Viva noticed that (and she thanked you for helping him relax bcs she’s tired of seeing him stress)

✩ But also please thank him for working so hard to become a licensed CPA. He loves the sound of his job and loves to hear you say it too.

✩ Definitely the big spoon when it’s time to get comfy at night. Being so much taller than you, he likes to consider himself “the one in control”

✩ Loves when you play in and take care of his hair like your own.

✩ Loves a good relaxing “spa” (self care) day. A day where you two, and ONLY you two get to sit back and treat yourselves. Facials, hair care, bubble bath, back massages, etc.

✩ Viva made you a matching sweater romper and you put it on for Clay. Let’s just say that was the best decision ever.

✩ Just like you do for him, he appreciates everything you do. Like no matter what it is, he supports you and he’ll be there every step of the way.

✩ You never have to worry a day in your life about Clay cheating, or finding “someone better”

✩ One time during whatever the situation was that had you guys dancing, you spun away from Clay and a new girl quickly replaced you for him to dip her. And he let her go as soon as she even slightly tilted.

“Clay, why did you drop her?!”

“She was kinda close to me and I don’t know how you or I feel about that to be honest.”

✩ (dw he apologized after)

✩ Clay can be really serious. Or really, really, really, reallyyy, corny. 😐

“Babe, did you know my favorite word is universe? Because it starts with U-N-I.”

“Are you wifi? Because I’m tryna hook up.”

“I heard kissing is a love language. Tryna start a conversation?”

“Are you my grades as a kid? Cause your bad AF.”

“Oh my gosh- CLAY-!”

✩ Overall Clay is an amazingly sweet well rounded man

✩ Never lose him