#Little moist criminals

[quohotos]

I really miss Adobe illustrator Draw. It was a free vector based app for android that could make some really cool images. The interface was limited, like you couldn't actually pick what resolution and canvas location it exported, but I still miss it. They shut it down a few years back, and the paid app they replaced it with isn't available on android. I have this cool phone with a pen and literally no software to use it with.

(oh yeah, and it's cloud based so even though I still have the app it's not usable)

[wanatasha]

˗ˏˋgetting closer to you ´ˎ˗

                                            chapter two

⤑ bounty hunter!natasha x fem!reader

she caught you, finally. but now you have to be dragged alongside her as she treks back to the city. turns out all of your bickering and teasing comes to light when you’re stuck in a tight space with her

summary ༯ not proofread, SMUT (MDNI), space/star wars!au, top!N/bottom!R, handcuff sex, rubbing over clothes, reader is a brat, enemies(?) to lovers, bounty hunter!natasha, criminal!reader, cat/mouse dynamics, hurt/comfort, ambush, injuries (n and r sustaining), alcohol mentions, blood mentions, r doesn’t have a family, weapon discussion/mentions (knives & blasters), sensual dynamics, N is stronger than R

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Her small smile felt genuine as she twirled the knife around in her hand, eyes focused and settled in on you–only you.

“So essentially I’m dancing with death?”

      “It’s a way out,” your friend whispers back, tone sounding not so sure. 

Species of all kinds dance around, moving about but neither of you take your eyes off of each other. Your friend’s leg shakes from beside you, eyes darting around. You watch as she takes a sip of her drink, eyes never leaving yours.

“Take the basement, it has an exit. The darkness will most likely throw her off.”

You pass the ships’ remote to him from under the table, “bring the ship north of where we are, I’ll just do what I always do. I’ll meet you there.”

You felt so sure that time–when you left the counter and sprinted down the stairs–you felt so sure that it would be like old times and she’d let you off after a quick fight. You were wrong. 

You got down to the bottom of the stars and were plunged into darkness. With sight out of the way you focused on hearing her steps come down the staircase in a tantalizing manner. You felt for the wall, tracing your fingertips until you felt for the door. With a quick shove you slam it open and let it close, but your body stays inside just to the left of the door. Her steps get closer and your heart races faster. There’s no light to see where she is, but you feel it’s just to the left of you in front of the door. Turns out you’re wrong when you feel her breathe in front of you. 

You’re both breathing heavily, the sound loud and clear in the cold, moist air down here. You’re backed up against boxes, hands reaching behind you to stop yourself against them. She steps closer and you’re sure she can hear your heart beating in your chest. 

“Miss me,” you ask, voice soft and out of breath. 

She doesn’t say anything, but her body slides on yours–her hands come to gently guide yours in front of your body. Blue light shines and the feeling of something pulling your wrists down comes right after. The feeling turned out to be blue shining handcuffs wrapped around your wrists. 

You jokingly laugh three times, “funny, take them off so we can continue?”

Instead she whips you around and walks with you right outside. The bright light glared into your eyes, making you squint and stumble with how fast she’s charging through the city. The main entrance to the city shows in front of you two and your heart skips a beat. You shove your feet into the dirt, and it jerks her back just slightly. 

“Get up.”

      “No,” you look up at her, “take me back.”

She shakes her head and doesn't let your little bratty act slow her down. She pushes forward with you dragging and squirming behind her. Your act kicks up dirt and it attracts the attention of others. One of them being another holding a fob pointed at you with a blinking red light. Natasha notices and sighs. She stops momentarily to pick you up, holding you princess style as she tracks through a side way out of the town. 

“Aw, you’re sweet,” you say, dragging your tied hands down her cheek, “put me down please.”

It’s funny how calm you feel in her hold when instead you should feel fear, she’s taking you–alive or dead–to your demise. Her hands are warm on your already warm skin from the sun. She’s pointedly avoiding you now, each touch and spoken flirty saying goes over her head. 

“When we get to your ship, I’ll let you have me,” you attempt, saying so with your head on her shoulder, “I’m a good time, I’ll let you know.” 

      “Stop talking,” she says, adjusting her hold on you. 

“She’s taking me back to her place,” you shout to passersby and she immediately drops you. With a grip on your arm she drags you again and you’re back to stumbling on your feet. You’re laughing and you really shouldn't, you’re facing death and you’re feeling as if you’re on cloud nine. 

The trek is long and your feet grow sore after a while. The sand kicks up around you, blowing wildly. You look behind you, watching as the town goes from tall buildings to a small toy town with each step. Black widow hasn’t said a single thing to you since, staying silent despite your attempts at conversation. 

“How far away is your ship? My feet are getting sore.” 

“Why do you park so far away from towns and such, it’s so much effort.”

“Do you think you’re some like the main character, I mean your life sounds pretty interesting.”

“Why the black widow for your title? Like what’s your lore?”

All of it went unanswered and it most likely annoyed her, but it absolutely entertained you. To watch your captors’ mood drain with each question. Her face grows steely as the sun sets. You’re climbing up some desert mountain, the climb making it harder to catch your breath. Fortunately for Natasha it means you shut up. There’s an open area on the top of the mountain, the sandstone making it easier to walk. She leahses the handcuffs, tying you to a rock. 

Her feet shuffle in the sand, “I have to check you for weapons.”

       “Sure, just say you want to touch me.” 

She feels down your body, patting and pressing as she makes her way down south. The only weapon she found was the knife settled in your shoe. Every other weapon you held she threw out earlier, and it’s out laying in the sand. A backpack rested behind one of the many rocks and she reached into it to pull out firewood and a lighter. 

“Got any food in there, I’m starving.”

She sets the fire, eyes a glow from the fire reflecting in her eyes. With an exhausted sigh, she heaves back and leans herself against the rock. She really is so pretty, her beauty easy to look at.

You smile at her, “you’re pretty.” 

         She looks over to you from the fire, darting from your face down to your calf, “how’d you cut yourself?” 

“Oh,” you look down and sure enough there’s a steady stream of already dried blood covering your calf and clothing that’s settled there, “well shit.”

       She reaches into her bag and tosses you something akin to a bandage, “wrap that around it.”

You open your mouth to ask for her to unlock the handcuffs, but she snaps and tells you, “I know you can do it with your hands tied.” And you do, it just proved to be more difficult than you assumed. After eight tries you finally wrap it tight enough around your leg. The fire flickers in front of you, sparks flying when the wood falls a little as it turns black. You find that your eyes stay settled looking at it when the next question forms.

“What made you change your mind about capturing me?”

         “People change,” was her response, “now go to sleep.”

The night grew cold and you were unable to sleep out on the strict rock and blistering breeze. Natasha seemed to. You found her in the same position, chest rising and falling on even times. The sun was barely rising on the horizon, the sight just in front of you. As you waited for her to wake up you watched the sun. When it reached about forty-five degrees in the sky she began to stir. 

“Morning,” you chipped, feeling a dog when its owner awakens, “you’re finally awake. I’ve been up for hours.” 

She groaned, rolling her backpack on and untying you from the rock. You found she hates mornings. She’s usually her quiet self, but for some reason she’s more brooding when it’s earlier. Down the hill the two of you wonder, and again you start your questions. 

Why do you seem so angry in the morning?

What’s your favorite food out of the whole galaxy?

Have you ever kissed anyone? I don’t know you don’t seem like you could pull anyone. 

Half of a day later and you’re walking up to her ship. The mental tank showing itself in the distance. You fall into her, meaning you end up falling onto the ground because she moves at any attempt to touch her. 

“There it is! Oh wow we’ve made it! Does your ship have cold air? I hope it does.”

You clamber back onto your feet, a pep in your step as you wonder towards it–but it's all an act. You fear she can see through it. At this moment your heart has dropped out of you and you feel like your world is slowing as you replay all your favorite moments in your life. The second you get on that plane, you have zero chances of freeing yourself–each step you’re getting closer and closer to death.

You’re now only ten more steps away. You hold onto your breath, hands squeezing tightly together as the metal door lowers–the wind from the action blowing onto your face. She pulls you behind her in a rough manner, dragging you along and shoving you into a seat as she presses a button that closes the door. Out of the blue, you stretch your foot out and press at the entire panel, the action hitting some red button and it shuts the entire ship in darkness. 

You exhale in the dark, cool air. A tink sounds out to the left of you before her hands are holding tightly onto your biceps. Her grip this time definitely is giving you bruises. 

“Why the hell are you so difficult?”

    “I’m going to my deathbed,” you rush out, “you expect me to be willing?”

You feel her breath come in closer to your face and you lean back, “you should be. Nobody who’s on the final three lasts has ever lasted more than a few days.”

    “Oh,” you laugh, a twinge of fear laced in your sarcastic laugh, “so scary! I’m so intimidated! What a cheesy ass line.”

“I can’t wait to turn you in,” she whisper-yells, letting you go with a shove and reaching behind her to turn the lights back on. 

     “You don’t mean that,” you drag the last word with a whine. 

“You think I don’t,” she twists toward you, getting close, “do you think I fucking like you?”

Your eyes twinkle up at hers and it's the last straw. 

“I don’t like you,” she says inconveniently as she leans closer and closer to you. 

You nod, a funny smirk playing on your face as you angle your face for her to kiss you. Hands, still tied together, lay in your lap while her lips passionately and aggressively come back onto yours–taking your breath away. You gasp when she bites your bottom lip.

“I can’t stand you,” she whispers aggressively, leaving kisses down your neck. 

You hum–head falling back onto the wall and your eyes shutting at the feeling. Her lips are rough, but the added texture makes you lose your mind. Everything about this is wrong, but that’s what makes it fun. And if you’re going to die in the next few days, least you can do is have one last good memory. Her hand slides down, feeling your cunt through your clothing. You moan at her ministrations, sounds hitting her ear and filling the entirety of the ship. It’s just as intoxicating for her as it is for you. 

“Oh shit–!”

You cry when her fingers press just right against your clit, the pressure building the feeling in your core. She finds what works and continues to press there while her lips work on top of yours. The cold in the air and the warmth in her body makes you shiver, leaning further into her hold. A few minutes later and you’re coming with a shrill gasp. Your body shutters under hers, lips dropped open against her kiss as you come down from your high.

“Natasha–”

     “What?”

“Natasha, it’s my name.”

You breathe heavily, resting your head onto the wall beside you. Tied hands reach up to cup her face, “It’s a beautiful name, matches you.” 

Just like she had in the pub earlier, a small genuine small seeped out. With the little sleep you got, plus the added extra miles of walking and hiking, plus the added stress from the past few days–your eyes grow heavy and you’ve fallen asleep in a few minutes. While you thought you sat there and continued to talk with her, Natasha watched the energy in you drain in a few minutes once you sat down in a chair with cushioning. As you’re deep in sleep, she lifts your body and brings you to lay down on the cot in her ship. 

She wondered back up front, angling herself to hit through to sit down on the captain’s chair to set the ship to fly. The ship jutted from beneath you, but you never stirred. You were fast asleep until the ship landed on some other planet. You looked up at the helm, and your heart shook. There was a bunch of greenery, and instantly you recognized it as your home planet. You can’t go back, if you go back they’ll be no reward for you as there will be for Natasha. 

You can’t go back. That phrase repeated in your mind as it turned into a broken record. You can’t go back, you can’t go back, you can’t go back, you can't-

Natasha was aware of you being awake when she first heard the sheets rustle, but she stayed looking forward until she heard your feet touch the floor. 

“Natasha, I–”

     “Don’t call me that.” 

You blink, putting your hands out, “well I’m sorry. Let me just forget that we had a whole bonding moment just the other day.” 

     “What?”

“Oh,” your heart falls, “please don’t be like this.”

      “I don’t recall anything happening,” she presses a button to open the hatch, “come on, im bringing you in.” 

Tears pool in your eyes. A combination of hatred and hurt built in you. Sure, there’s not been anything there, you only found out about her name just the other day–but you felt like there might’ve been something. She’s been chasing you around, ending up with you in questionable positions, sending smiles your way, caring for you when she doesn't have to. 

“You don’t have to turn me in,” you plead, voice wavering, “come on, Natasha. You can’t deny that we’ve had something going for the past two weeks. We could turn around, start something new. Just last nigh–”

      She reaches out, “come on.” 

“I hate you,” you snap, swatting her hand with the both of yours, “is this really all you do? Turn people in for the buck and turn around to do another?”

       “Okay be real. I’ve only known you for barely over a week you’re acting like we love each other. I don’t even know you!”

“You haven’t even tried to,” you yell, standing and getting in her face, “you keep going back and forth. Letting me in and then you shut me out. I bet you’re just scared.” 

       “I don’t even know why I’m arguing with you, I don’t care in the slightest,” she grabs a hold of you, dragging you beside her. The entirety of your walk is spent with a blurry vision, chest heaving as you cry. Each time you sniffled it broke Natasha’s heart just a bit more.

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[k-4-ni]

GOLDEN RETRIEVER! DICK GRAYSON X FEM! READER

WARNINGS: NSFW, MATURE THEMES, DON'T BE READING THIS IF YOUR UNDER 18 TF, P IN V, CONSENTED BEFORE, CREAMPIE, NIPPLE PLAY, GRINDING (OR CALL IT DRY-HUMPING WHATEVER TICKLES YOUR PICKLE).

This man is the most golden retriever boyfriend found in all the 50 States of America.

You think all the villains and ruthless criminals of Gotham would stop him from spoiling his precious little baby? He's been through worse.

Kisses, Kisses, Kisses, this man is all about kisses and hugs, cuddling you from dusk until dawn if he could, if he could.

Sure, his work might delay a few steamy make-out sessions or heart-warming snuggles for a few hours but nothing beats coming back home, shoulders slumped and bone-deep exhaustion seeping through him, only to find the love of his life curled up, thick and fluffy blankets hugging their tiny form, Waiting to be caressed and cradled, just begging to be touched.

Who can resist such a cute little kitten? He'd be snarky about it, maybe even daring to be taunting as he curled up against your form, fitting together so perfectly like he was the missing piece to your puzzle, the way his prominent and firm bulge would snuggle up from between your bubbly ass cheeks made his heart leap out of his tightened chest.

He had to dig his bleached teeth into the soft flesh of his bottom lip, biting back a breathy groan as his fingers would press into the fats of your hips, Thank god you were wearing such tight fucking shorts.

His brain would be foggy, thoughts of just being buried into your moist and silky walls filled his senses, mindlessly trailing his fingers lower between you and reaching out for his throbbing cock, nose scrunching with slight irritation before he could make out the reddened and swollen tip of his cock peeking out from his latex shorts —which he wore underneath his costume—.

Oh god, how much he missed you, If only you knew how many times the thought of you being curled up alone, bitter and cold air seeping into your bones and peeling away at the blissful warmth that one radiated off of you, oh how he'd wrap you up in his strong and beefy arms, heating and warming you up as he wished he could shove the tip of his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing and smelling in your refreshing lavender scent.

This man would make HIS pockets hurt, He doesn't care if you think it's daddy's money or his, he's buying you that diamond necklace you were ogling at the jewellery shop —even if it was just a simple glance—, This 200+ Ibs of a man would buy you every scent of Italian and Morrocan perfume he could find because he just loves it when he's pounding you from behind, his thick and calloused fingers digging into the fat and juicy flesh of those thick thighs of yours, watching as your pussy sucked all his meaty and girthy length in, He could feel his already throbbing mushroom tip kissing at that gooey and silky spot deep inside of you, And he could just pin your body up against his, shoving his nose deep into the crook of your neck as he smelt that earthy and tangy scent of the perfume that HE bought you.

All the sexy and small lingeries he thinks will curve and hug at you bubbly ass better, just so he could rip it off later when you two got home, occasionally squeezing the silky fat of your thighs or glancing down at you with those 'I'm going to fuck you balls-deep when we get home' eyes.

Ever seen those lingerie with the bows placed against your nipples? He goes fucking feral for them, He made you laugh once when saying you're like a kinder surprise, removing this sticky and unwanted piece of plastic, only to find your plump and hardened nipples from beneath, practically begging him to suck on them and ravish them until they were swollen and puffy just like his cock.

[captain-mj]

Pray tell us those streamer au thoughts?

I realized in retrospect that the word I was looking for was youtuber, not necessarily streamer... oops? I hope this is still fine! I explained what I think they'd cover and how they meet

Ghost: He's a cryptid/urban legend youtuber. He often goes to these places and take the most ominous videos known to man. Often includes him perching in places he shouldn't be while in full tac gear. He openly talks about being in the military but is super cagey about further details. Plays some horror games and he starts talking to Soap and Roach through Dead By Daylight

Soap: A gaming youtuber. Actually does stream. Mostly does super long games in one go because he knows if he sets it down he'll never pick it back up. Plays a ton of multiplayer with friends which is how he started talking to Ghost. Openly thirsts after him but in a fun way for the audience. Ghost can't tell if it's real or not.

Roach: Silent youtuber. Mostly posts his own bugs and stays in his lane. Speed runs Terraria whenever his views drop. Has a running bit about having an onlyfans.

Price: Teaches basic self defense. Is the chilliest of all of them. Since he's canonically a stoner now, he's stoned in half of them. Will occasionally join Ghost on his adventures cause they knew each other in the military. Is Simply Built Better.

Gaz: A commentary youtuber, but the kind that is mostly just explaining what's going on, not the kind to fill it with his own opinions. Occasionally features Alex for the ones over the CIA.

Graves: Is a commentary youtuber that does fill it with his own opinions. Has pulled a gun out on screen before Moist Critical style.

Alex: Critics and debunks conspiracy theories. Especially one's connected with certain pipelines. Ghost and him have worked together multiple times and there is ship content of both of them.

Laswell: Doesn't have a youtube channel.

Alejandro: Plays horror games and dating sims. Has a super long series over boyfriend dungeon. Openly talks about his husband constantly.

Rodolfo: Cozy video games. Is stupidly organized about everything. Will not mention he's married.

Valeria: True Crime. She talks about certain female criminals with a little too much love.

Núñez: Valeria's Ryan.

Farah: The obvious answer is over her cause but I never want to go with the obvious answer. She's a ghost hunter. Get fucked.

Oz: Posts coding videos and is very funny. Lowkey like code bullet (god I hope he never sees this)

Velikan: Long think pieces that leave viewers and fundamentally changed.

Mila: Parkour and sight seeing. Breaks into abandoned places. No one knows her, Graves and Oz are friends until they found out they're platonically all living together.

Reyes: Work out youtuber. Shamelessly posts thirst traps.

Chuy: Another cryptid/urban legend youtuber. He focuses more on Mexican culture than Ghost. Refuses to play video games on stream.

[doodle-pops]

Sunshine and Peaches

Elladan x reader

Kinktober 2023: Somnophilia

Warnings: fem!reader, somnophilia (consensual), groping, spooning sex, a little cockwarming

Words: 1.8k

Synopsis: Returning from a hunt, Elladan stumbles upon his loving spouse, garmented in nothing but the unconditional desire for him to devour you on such a beautiful morning.

List of Requests

A sensual moan escaped your lips the moment you felt the tingle of pleasure growing in your abdomen, leaving butterflies floating around in your cunt. Your walls naturally clenched around the length that was traversing your moist passageway like a smooth criminal. Deep in your dream and yearning for his touch, his presence, just him, you couldn’t distinguish between illusion and reality. But your body knew it was Elladan; it was being pleasured by a familiar touch, his hips gently rolling against your backside. Hot breath, raspy and desperate, washed over your neck from behind, and an iron grip encircled your waist, holding you securely. Your body trembled under the recognizable sensation.

The sensual rolls of his hips, bumping gently against your ass, and the barely audible sounds they produced were eclipsed by his passionate whimpers. He whispers your name, a mix of cries and praise for the wonder of your body and how much he had missed your warmth. In response, your body instinctively adjusts to heighten the moment's pleasure. You nestled your head deeper into the pillow and rested it on his shoulder, letting out a breathless sigh and a soft hum. This dream felt more vivid than you had experienced in the past week.

The weight and warmth, the texture and vibration, the scent and sound—they all felt remarkably real. No mirage could conjure such an intense and pleasurable experience that exceeded the limits of the mind, body, and soul. Yet, you allowed yourself to be drawn deeper into the dream, unwilling to walk away from the boundless pleasure enveloping you. Somewhere in the midst of it all, your right leg was lifted into the air, bent at an angle that allowed him greater access to your heat. It was then that the rhythmic sound of his hips meeting your ass reverberated through the open expanse of your chambers.

The slight increase in his panting shifted from being moaned into your neck to your ear. With each change in pitch and the passionate words he uttered, you found yourself growing wetter, drowning in your own arousal, with squelches that echoed in harmony with the increasing tempo. While his right hand was gripped your right leg, his left shifted to your waist to grope your breast, while his mouth found the junction of your neck and nibbled. The sweet scent of peaches from your skin, a reminder of your nightly bath, lingered, driving him wild with the knowledge that you had prepared yourself using his favourite fragrances. Just how much had you been thinking of him during his absence?

The rhythmic sound of his hips thrusting and the soft slap of his balls against your skin echoed in your ears. After weeks of being out in the cold, this sensation felt remarkably real, unlike any dream you’d ever had. As you sank deeper into Elladan’s embrace, your hand instinctively reached for his wavy hair, giving it a gentle tug. “Hmm...feels so good,” you whispered as his pace quickened.

Grinning against the curve of your neck, he found your drowsy state utterly endearing, especially when you mumbled without awareness. His fingers squeezed your breast, teasing and tweaking each nipple. You arched into his touch, allowing the tip of his cock to brush against your most sensitive spot. A gasp and a groan escaped your lips as pleasure surged through you. In your semi–conscious state, he found it impossible to be gentle, interpreting your eager responses as an invitation to heighten the intensity.

Moving his hands from your breast, he ventured lower to your clit, where your arousal had already coated your folds. It was effortless for him to trace circles around your sensitive nub. Despite the temptation to take you roughly in the morning light, he continued to tenderly play with your clit while intensifying his thrusts. The bed frame shook, emitting squeaks and groans in response to the force of his movements. Your grip on each other tightened, eliminating any space between you. Your sweaty bodies rocked against each other, slipping and sliding beneath the morning sun’s gentle rays. Your hands clung to each other both consciously and unconsciously, desperately trying to stay close. Breathless moans and whimpers escaped your lips, intermingled with words of praise and affection.

At this point, it was impossible to remain in slumber, given the mounting pressure and heat welling up in the pit of your stomach. Even the vigour of his thrusts as his cock slid in and out, fitting perfectly into your cunt, eventually roused you. Twisting in his arms with a groggy expression and sleep still lingering in your eyes, you gazed at the familiar face whose eyes were closed, his head buried in your neck. The mop of inky hair in your peripheral vision and the rhythmic motion of his length caressing your sweet spot repeatedly confirmed that your dreams were indeed real. “E–Elladan?” you attempted to greet, but it escaped as a questioning moan that caught his attention.

He bit your shoulder and then leaned in to bequeathed a messy kiss. Your heads bumped against each other, causing you to laugh and fully wake from your slumber. While your lips reconnected in a passionate kiss, his hips fervently pumped, bringing you both to your morning climax. Your other hand reached down to join his, which was already drawing circles on your sensitive nub. The shiver that coursed through your body as your fingers joined his made him smile into the kiss. He always appreciated it when you helped or joined him in pleasuring each other; it added an extra layer of intimacy.

“Are you close, dearest?” he panted against your lips, breaking into a whine as his hips stuttered from the sudden squeeze of your inner muscles. “Finish with me this morning.”

“Uh–huh.” You nodded your head, and as he whispered his request, you pulled his head closer to meet your lips once more, ignoring the occasional clash of teeth. On the other end, his hand slipped from its grip on your leg, quickly readjusting to rest in the crook of his elbow. A flick of his tongue past your lips stole your breath, and the combination of his kiss and the rapid rhythm of his thrusts left you breathless. You could attest that he was more eager during this encounter than the last. Whimpering into his mouth was all you could do as the kiss grew increasingly passionate, and he took control of the rhythm.

As you gasped for air and pressed your face into the pillow, his relentless thrusts persisted, each one sending ripples of pleasure coursing through your body. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and you found yourself surrendering completely to the sensations that engulfed you. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest like a drum, synchronized with the rhythm of his passionate lovemaking. Your fingers dug into the sheets, clutching them tightly as you writhed beneath him. The world outside faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of you in this electric, intimate connection.

His primal desire and your unbridled arousal mingled in the room, creating an intoxicating atmosphere. Beads of sweat glistened on your skin, a testament to the fervour of your shared passion. The room seemed to grow warmer with each thrust as if the very air around you crackled with desire. With every powerful push, he took you to the edge and then pulled you back, expertly teasing your senses. Your moans and gasps were a symphony of desire, echoing through the room as your bodies moved together in perfect harmony.

The pillow muffled your cries, but they were a indication to the ecstasy that consumed you. This was a moment where words failed, where the language of the body spoke volumes, expressing a depth of connection that words could never convey.

“Ah! Feels so...good. Ngghh!” Your words were cut short as your whimpering escalated into a loud moan, your orgasm suddenly washing over you, spreading its cool flames throughout your body. You clung tightly to him, fingers gripping his hair strands and tugging sharply as you arched into his slower thrusts, guiding his tip against your already sensitive sweet spot. As intense as the sensation was, coursing through your body and reducing you to a quivering puddle of pleasure, the gentle rocking of his hips was surprisingly soothing now that his fingers had left your clit.

You both ground against each other slowly, holding each other close as the waves of your orgasms flooded your bodies with bliss. You took a moment to revel in his warmth and presence. His scent filled your nostrils, a mixture of your passionate encounter, the warmth of the morning sun, and his own natural fragrance. He nuzzled his cheek against yours and peppered your shoulder with wet kisses, although it was mostly you spooning him rather than the other way around. You giggled at the ticklish sensation, and slight shivers and goosebumps still adorned some parts of your arms and legs from his relentless gyrations.

He was quite fond of the intimate closeness that followed their passionate sessions. “You’re back earlier than I expected, El,” you giggled as his hair tickled your skin while he nestled his head further into your neck, showering you with a cascade of affectionate kisses.

His hands, filled with playful intent, roamed up your body, pausing to gently cup your breast, eliciting delighted laughter from you. “Hmm, I am,” he replied, “I missed you dearly, hence my returned before the moon reached its peak.” He continued to squeeze your breasts while sensually moving his hips against yours, enticingly teasing you. His expert touch and movements left you momentarily speechless, and a soft sigh escaped your lips. Your hands reached around to interlace with his, aiding him in massaging your breasts. As you did so, his lips trailed along your earlobe, nibbling and kissing the delicate flesh, intending to share his pleasure–filled moans with you. He knew how much you enjoyed his whispered affections.

“You should wake me up like this more often...”

His right hand ventured downward, tracing ticklish paths along your abdomen before cupping your pussy. His middle finger delicately slipped between your folds, caressing your clit. Your body responded with a gentle shiver, encouraging him to apply more pressure, watching as you slowly surrendered to his touch. As your hips began to sway against his finger, causing his length, still nestled within you, to stir, you panted with growing desire.

“Then another round it is.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @batsyforyou

[strawberry-lemonade-kisses]

Happy Fathers Day

The day your daughter was born was the day you were convinced you could never love anymore. You had immediately given all of your love to her, crying as she was finally placed into your arms, still discolored and unhappy. She was perfect though, even her cries. Your body was tired, there was sweat matting your body but you didn’t want to move away from this moment. Your husband stood at your side, watching with awe as your little girl silenced her cries, the only sound in the room being the nurses shuffling about and the doctor making sure all was good. “She looks like you” The baritone of your husband's voice pulled you out of your stupor, and finally looked up. “I was thinking she looked more like you, look at this full head of hair” You giggled, brushing back the still moist strands covering most of her head the same stark black as your husband's. Your husband chuckled leaning over your shoulder to get closer. Her eyes were squeezed shut, already worn out from the outside world. “I hope her eyes match yours, Obanai.” He looked at you in shock, stepping so you could see all of him. “Why?” He was panicked at the thought of his child bearing too much of a resemblance to him, looking like the person who destroyed his entire family because he wanted to live because he didn’t want to be a sacrifice for criminals. You placed a soft hand on his, squeezing in hopes to pull him back to earth and out of his head. “Because I love looking at you. My beautiful husband who works so hard and does all he can to keep me happy and healthy, The same husband who has done so much during my hormonal outbursts and still is married to me” You laughed “I love you so much and I think your eyes are so unique and breathtaking that I would love our little girl to have them” You beamed at the thought of her having the same heterochromatic eyes as the man next to you. Obanai was silent behind his face mask but you could see the blush blossoming behind the white material. “Here you go Dad” Scooting a chair next to your bedside a nurse motioned for Obanai to sit. “And for Mom, I brought apple juice and some ice chips for you” She placed the cups down next to you. “So we do have to finish off this little girl's birth certificate, did you guys have a name in mind?” Obanai looked at you nodding in confirmation before you spoke. “Kiomi, Iguro Kiomi. Our little beauty” The nurse nodded, writing the names down. We do need signatures but we can do that when you guys discharge tomorrow. I’ll let you rest and spend some time together, if you need anything please call. I will be at my station right outside!” Her enthusiasm was equally matched as you thanked her for her help before crowding back into your family. “Here, you need to hold her too, I can’t hog her” Obanai didn’t waste a second in scooping the bundle from your arms, watching her squirm a bit before settling back into her slumber. You were blessed, truly. You had never felt so lucky t have what you had in front of you. A loving and doting husband, someone you could grow alongside and overcome odds you didn’t think were possible to accomplish, and now this. A beautiful baby girl who was brought to this world by the love you two shared, encompassed and enveloped in the utter devotion you had to one another. She was everything you could have asked for and more. Her tufts of black hair, to her dainty little nose and cherub-like cheeks you just wanted to kiss. You couldn’t wait to watch her grow, to hear her try to speak, you even couldn’t wait to change dirty diapers and clean up crayons smeared into your walls. It was riveting thinking of the future. “beautiful, she’s waking” Obanai moved to the edge of your bed, sitting next to you so you could watch as she let out a large yawn that made your eyes water at the beauty of it. As she blinked awake, eyes adjusting to the still-rising sun. You gasped as her wide eyes finally looked at you. Obanai’s eyes were watery as he looked at you, sniffling softly as he brushed her head. Like father, like daughter. Matching eyes watched your reaction. “Kiomi you are so beautiful!” you cried, leaning your head on Obanai as he lay next to you, cuddling into your space with your baby. “Just like her daddy, so beautiful” Her heterochromatic eyes were taking in the surroundings, as much as she could see as much as she could learn. She was perfect and you were so grateful.

[mimisempai]

Just a little longer

Summary

Greg is having trouble waking up this morning and even Mycroft's coaxing isn't working.

Notes

Mystrade Monday  3.0  #49 - Character A is trying to get Character B up and out of bed, and Character B is trying very hard to ignore Character A.

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

On AO3

568 words - Rating G

Greg moaned.

It wasn't the sound of Greg's alarm clock that woke Mycroft, but his moan.

He turned to see his lover reaching out to try to silence the clock.

When he was sure the alarm was off, Greg rolled onto his back and put an arm over his eyes, moaning, "...I don't want to.... "

Mycroft turned fully towards him, leaning on his elbow, an amused smile on his lips, then after a few seconds put his hand on his lover's shoulder and shook him gently, saying, "Greg, you've got to wake up.

Greg groaned again before rolling over and burying his head in his pillow, eliciting a slight chuckle from Mycroft.

Mycroft reached up and gently stroked the tousled hair at the nape of Greg's neck. His lover grunted once more before pulling the comforter over him.

"Greg..."

No answer.

"If you don't wake up, I'll have to take more drastic measures."

Mycroft lifted the comforter and brought his lips close to Greg's ear, blowing on it before trailing light butterfly kisses from his lover's ear to his neck.

He smiled against his skin as he felt Greg move against him.

"Mycroft..."

"Hm..."

Greg turned and cupped Mycroft's chin, continuing in a sleepy voice, "When you do something, do it right."

Then he pulled Mycroft's face to his and his lips captured his lover's, drawing him into a lazy, gentle kiss.

When they parted, Mycroft breathed, "Greg..."

"Hm...?" 

Greg raised an eyebrow.

Mycroft ran his thumb over the slightly moist lips, "Shouldn't you be getting up?

Greg bit Mycroft's thumb and replied sulkily, "I'd rather stay a little longer."

Mycroft smiled with a mischievous gleam in his eye before he said dramatically, "What decadence. What a complete lack of discipline. Where is your sense of responsibility? What an immense disappointment! What..."

Greg put his hand over his lover's mouth and said, "Shut up."

Feeling Mycroft smile under his hand, Greg withdrew it and replaced it with his lips to silence his teasing lover.

When they parted to catch their breath, Greg muttered, "I'd rather you used your mouth like that than talk nonsense."

"Really? Then I wouldn't want to disappoint you, my love."

Mycroft leaned over Greg and kissed him tenderly, taking his time as Greg seemed to be in no hurry to get up and start his day.

When Mycroft pulled away again, Greg let out a little moan of need that made Mycroft want to go back and drink the sweet nectar from his lips, but instead he rested his forehead against Greg's and murmured with what little restraint he possessed, "And just how long is 'a little longer'? "

He saw Greg turn and pick up his phone to type something, then turned back to Mycroft and replied, "The morning. I sent a message to say I would take it. After all, there will always be criminals, they'll call me if it's urgent and I'm owed enough days off."

The answer was enough for Mycroft, who picked up where he'd left off.

He knew full well that Greg was a very responsible person. But if his lover felt like being a little selfish today and doing something just for him, Mycroft wouldn't stop him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

As far as Mycroft was concerned, Greg's happiness was all that mattered, and the rest of the world could go to hell for a few hours. 

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade mondays 3.0 : here

Mystrade masterlist here

[chiyuumiii]

NIGHTFALL || PART 2

Earth-42 Miles Morales/F!Reader

[TAGS: Prowler Miles Morales, Miles Morales, Miles G. Morales, Female Reader, Fluff, Just Pure Fluff, Cuddles and Love, Morning Kisses, Sleepy Kisses, Forehead Kisses, Prowler Miles sneaks in through your bedroom window and cuddles with you hehe, Vigilante, Miles saves you from a bunch of ew creepy men, Secret Relationship, Secret Love]

Note: TW: Mentions of harassment, slight drugs, Google Translated Spanish, Bad/Decent Writing, Typos, Grammatical Errors!

Point it out if I missed something <3 Thank you!

This is part 2 of a fic! Check my blog to read the first part if you haven't &lt;3

He begrudgingly climbed up on your roof, lifting himself up by your windowsill. Though, it was difficult to see you from the moist coating of the panes. He sighed softly, he held onto the heel of the roof and sat, glancing over at the sky as he took sight of its beautiful dark hues. He silently took a break from his vigilante duties, with only the wind howling in his ears soothing all his injuries.

He left after a short while as he noticed the sky getting brighter by the minute, returning back to his own room, slipping through the window and putting his gear back in secure places.

You were completely oblivious of his visit to your place.

Honestly, he just wanted to make sure you got home safe and sound. But it might've been more than that, y'know?

The Prowler has a heart, too.

♡♡♡

You yawned sleepily, rubbing your eyes and blinking rapidly, glancing over at your plugged phone, only to realize, the cord came off, yay!

“I'm such a fucking dumbass..” You groaned, you checked its battery percentage, 42 percent.

“That can do, I guess.” You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed and scrolling through your phone like you always do. 

You noticed a news article on a website, discussing The Prowler, the image on the thumbnail showed the vigilante that rescued you the night before. You never knew that was his alias, since he didn't bother to tell you last night.

You clicked on the link, intrigued by it. Scrolling through, you found out more about him, I guess he wasn't much of a vigilante, seeing as his criminal records involved…some things. But he still cares about citizen safety. Looks like his mom raised him well.

You plugged your phone, getting up and walking over to the bathroom to wash your face, gently applying some skincare products on it and rinsing it, then wiping your face.

“Hey.” A voice rumbled behind you, you flinched, looking at the mirror and turning around, it was The Prowler.

“What- How did you get in?! HOW DID YOU EVEN FIND MY HOUSE?!” You leaned up against your sink, a little frightened. You were befuddled by him.

“You don’t need to know,” He sighed, trying to sound heedless. “I just wanted to say I’m glad you got home safely last night.” He uttered inside of his mask, arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah- Thanks…” You smiled sheepishly, though still in confusion and curiosity. “So…Are you gonna do anything else besides just stand there menacingly?” You chuckled nervously, raising your head slightly upward to see his mask.

You heard a soft sigh escape his lips, shaking his head before turning back to you. “I’ll leave now.” He exited your bathroom, slipping out through the window.

You watched him leave, curious about his identity and his true behaviour, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it, staring at the window he left through.

You walked over to that window, gazing over at the morning sky above.

“That was…something.” You felt a smile paint onto your face involuntarily, a soft hue of pink visible on your cheeks. You then mentally shook it off and closed the window, locking it up securely and proceeding with your morning routine.

After that incident last night, you had to stay home. You couldn't bear going through that again, even if Prowler will be there, there's also a high chance he wouldn't.

You crawled up to your bed, scrolling at endless, repetitive posts on social media, it was boring…You had wished that vigilante would've stayed here much longer…

PART 3 SOON WAAAAH

[transgenderer]

The Cult of Twins

Twins (marassa), living and dead, are endowed with supernatural power which makes them exceptional being. In the voodoo pantheon they hold a privileged position besides the grand mysteres. Some people would even claim that they are more powerful than the loa. They are invoked and saluted at the beginning of a ceremony immediately after Lega; in some regions, notably Leoagne, they even come before him.

Any family which includes twins, either among its living members, or in one of its ancestral lines must, under pain of 'chastisement', serve them with offerings and sacrifice. Sometimes a family reeling under a series of misfortunes learns form a hungan (voodoo practitioner) that it has been neglecting twins far back in its ancestry 'at the time of Guinea'. A child counts as a twin when it is born with webbed feet, for this is a sign that it has 'eaten' its brother in the womb...

The child who follows twins immediately in order of birth (the dosu if itis a boy, dosa if it is a girl) unites in its person the power of both twins and there can dispose of greater powers than they. 'The dosu is stronger than the marassa and stronger than the loa.' Hence he is treated with the greatest respect and in the event of offerings being made, he as the precedence over the twins, On the other hand, the child born before twins = the chuket or dosu avant - has no great standing, though it is said of him that he 'dragged the twins after him'

The presence of twins in a family involves its members in constant attentions and thousand precautions. It takes very little to make a twin turn against his parents and, as is his wont, 'grip' them in the stomach - that is to say inflict serious trouble upon their intestines. It is true that twins are to prepared to be punished for some fault which they have really committed, but they take cruel revenge if they think they have been unjustly treated...

A worker employed at Marbial told us that he and his twin sister almost killed their mother for refusing them a dish of crabs and gomboes which their father, out of concern for their health, had advised her not to give them. The boy placed a stick in the moist earth beside a tree and each day he went and pushed it in a little farther. His mother fell dangerously ill and would have died if the twins, as the result of family entreaties, had not acknowledges the wrong they were doing. They were offered a feast and a pig was killed...

It is normal for twins to hate each other: 'Marassa yo raisab' (twins dont get on) is a proverbial saying. At marbial I knew a boy Andreno and a little girl Andreni, who were twins in a large and poor family. Each of them grew with difficulty for want of adequate food; but the little girl was bigger and stronger than he Brohter. The parents said she was 'eating' her brother and explained that the two children had dedicated themselves to mutual hatred before they even saw the light of day. The moment she war born Andreni had tries to strangle Andreno by looping the umbilical cord around his neck - to such good effect that as he came into the world Andreno found himself 'hanged like a young goat'. Usually when twins are of different sex it is the boy who prospers, at the expense of the girl.

Twins can hardly be too carefully supervised if they are to be precented from harming each other. As soon as one of them shows signs of failing, the other is implored to give up his criminal intention. At meals, when they are not looking, parents seize the opportunity of switching round their plates so that each ears the food of the other - which has the effect of restoring a good relationship.. They also get given a dose which has the power of changing the hated they feel for each other into affection. Such is the power of twins that no one will make take any steps against one twin who causes the death of the other; indeed, people will even take care not to show him the slightest resentment.

Twins must be treated exactly alike if jealousy is to be avoided. Their clothes must be identical, their share of food equal and any praise exactly divided between them. As to twin sisters, they must be married as far as possible at the same time. if a woman with a twin brother marries, she and her husband will load him with presents to obliterate any possible resentment he may secretly feel. Even death does not break the ties which links twins together. The survivor puts to one side, for the deceased, a symbolic portion of whatever he eats or receives by way of presents. Herakovitz traced these practices to that belief, so widespread in West Africa, which attributes but one shared soul to twins.

The power of marassa is not entirely negative. Certainly their ill-will i all the more to be dreaded for being sometimes involuntary. But provided they are happy and satisfied, they turn the strength which is in them to good account. Their intervention is often sought on behalf of the sick; in serious cases recourse may be had to ancestral marassa who, either by dreams or by medium, will prescribe appropriate remedies

-Voodoo, Metraux

Thoughts:

ive never heard of anything like this! i might read a book i found about twins. very interesting and strnage. this sort of "born shaman" feature is odd. the whole thing is odd, and interesting. also the parent/child power inversion is something i havent seen before

i know the igbo are veyr anti twin, so its interesting that partially-igbo-descended haitian culture is so pro-twin

[heliossecretdeskdrawer]

Off The Clock

Continuity: IDW1

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Megatron/Rodimus

Characters: Rodimus & Megatron

Warnings: Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Porn Without Plot, Masturbation, Voyeurism

Summary: In which Rodimus tries to ask Megatron something while he's off-shift.

Crossposting: AO3 | Dreamwidth Fic under cut. See AO3 for complete notes.

One of these days, Rodimus would learn to knock.

Unfortunately—or maybe it was fortunate, from a certain perspective—today was not the hypothetical day in question.

It seemed a little stupid, however, to be standing just past the threshold of his co-captain’s quarters with a datapad in hand while said co-captain was seated on the edge of his berth with a finger resting on his glowing anterior node.

Rodimus had been planning to ask him why Ultra Magnus had denied a line item on Brainstorm’s expense report for a recent project … uncharacteristically without comment. Usually any denials would be accompanied by several paragraphs of explanation, with relevant policies cited down to the specific relevant clause. The only possible explanation for this change in behavior must have been that Mags was suffering from some illness without telling anyone… anyone except his war criminal confidant.

Who was presently, uh, occupied.

And glaring right at him, finger frozen in place. Much like the icy bloom of embarrassment in Rodimus’s spark.

Mouth hanging open like a moron, Rodimus rifled through his processor to try and find anything to say, anything that could make up for just thoughtlessly bursting in on what was clearly a… delicate situation for his good buddy.

“Uh.” Not enough. “My bad.”

Nailed it.

Now to just step backward through the open door and not let his optics drift downward—The red glow from the partially obstructed node haloing the black finger, moist with lubricant, that had been caressing it was dangerously attention-grabbing. His feet were frozen to the floor.

The lubricant coating the finger and smearing the partially visible valve folds told him that Megatron had been at this for at least a several minutes… if not longer. It was possible Rodimus had walked in after an overload or two, but certainly not at the very outset.

“You constantly tell me to take time off.” Megatron scoffed, rolling his optics. “And then when I do, you show up to hand off work anyway.”

At least he only seemed to be mildly annoyed. Sometimes the glares were difficult to tell apart; “I’m tired and need a warm beverage” and “I’m listening intently to what you’re saying” and “I’m going to commit unimaginably violent crimes against you personally” all looked very similar. Though, to Megatron’s credit, the last one was more of an unlikely hypothetical these days and Rodimus knew that.

“… You know what, I’ll, uh… I’ll just ask you about this later. I can see that you’re busy.”

The automatic door slid shut behind him with a soft hiss; Rodimus hadn’t beaten the preset close timer. Sure, he could turn around and open it but that would be even more awkward than attempting awesomely moonwalk back into the hall. Which he totally could have done if he had been a nanoklik faster.

And not staring directly at the light under Megatron’s stalled finger.

His face felt warm.

His arms, now aching from being kept in a weird posture, were still held out at his sides from when he had first walked through the door, having stopped mid-stride.

“Do you think this is some kind of show?”

“I—No….” But if it was, he would consider watching.

“Then why are you staring?” That was a great question. “Surely, this is nothing you haven’t seen before; you’ve doubtlessly seen pornographic recordings of people pleasuring themselves. Hardly traumatic. Are you finished here?”

The finger continued to stay right where it was. Not even a twitch. That was some kind of discipline.

And from this angle, Rodimus couldn’t see anything more than the gentle curve of the front side of valve folds.

“If I said ‘no,’ would you be mad?”

The fingertip finally twitched against the smooth surface of the node. The heat from his face went immediately south, certain components throbbing behind their panels with growing interest.

“Not necessarily.”

Rodimus had worked with Megatron long enough to know that meant “no.”

“I’ll… uh… pull up a chair then.”

Rodimus tossed the datapad aside to clatter away on the floor before grabbing a chair from elsewhere in the room. He placed it squarely in front of the corner of the berth where Megatron had perched. A few paces between them to ensure a good view.

He had yet to decide how best to enjoy his good fortune, instead simply opting to let his knees fall widely apart… open to possibilities.

Megatron, however, hadn’t waited for him to get settled. His finger was already hard at work, slowly circling the node and leaving a wet smear in its wake. The light brightened as it was uncovered, now illuminating the soaked berth pad peaking out from underneath the valve folds, confirming Rodimus’s suspicions that he had showed up partway through the session.

“Have you already—“ “Only the once so far.” Then there would probably be a fair amount of show remaining, not that Rodimus knew how many times Megatron tended to overload during a session.

There was a brief, breathy laugh.

“I never took you for a voyeur.”

There was a flash of shame in Rodimus’s spark.

“What are you talking about? Everyone likes—”

Megatron just laughed again, not stopping the slow circling of his middle finger, the motion banishing Rodimus’s shame. The other fingers of his hand held the closest folds away from the node, but with this angle, they revealed nothing of the valve itself. That was still hidden underneath Megatron’s body as he remained sitting upright.

Rodimus pouted, his own hand just waiting on his own panels. He still hadn’t decided.

“I never took you for an exhibitionist.”

“I’m not.”

There probably would have been news reports during the war about it, now that Rodimus thought about it. It would have been hard to hide for someone already in the spotlight.

“Then what?”

“You’ll see.”

Rodimus hummed in doubt.

His own middle finger started mirroring the motion he was watching against the closed paneling of his array. That made it easy to make a decision.

He would choose solidarity then.

The panel retracted with a soft click and he let his hand slip down to pick up lubricant. It was tempting to lean over steal some of Megatron’s more than ample supply—and maybe give his node a flew playful flicks—but that seemed a little too forward.

Unlike Megatron, he also leaned back in the chair, leaving the entirety of his valve’s exterior on display. Modesty had already been thrown out the window.

With a grin, he started circling his own node, glowing orange in contrast to the red of his companion. A pleasant tingle began to build in his circuits, just beginning to soothe over the ache of arousal.

The speed of Megatron’s hand suddenly picked up, switching from circling to a simple up and down rub of the swollen end of the node with the slippery fingertip. The wet noise of the lubricant as it was pushed around echoed in the otherwise quiet room.

“Oh, now I see.” His own node throbbed under his hand at the sight.

“You yourself said ‘everyone.’” Megatron was interrupted by a soft, choked moan, like he had tried to hold it in. “This should hardly come as a surprise.”

More lubricant seeped out onto the berth pad, saturating it. His legs tensed and puffed out of his vents.

Rodimus could feel his gaze locked hungrily on the clumsy motion of Rodimus’s hand awkwardly trying to catch up. Megatron had had a significant head start.

Megatron shouted as his finger stopped rubbing, the node underneath pulsing against its captor.

For a few moments, Rodimus paused his own circling, watching Megatron’s hulking frame heave forward to ventilate as he remained precariously in place on the corner of the berth. What if it was over already? He certainly hoped not.

“Are you—“

With a shake of his head, Megatron thrust his middle finger downward, underneath to relubricate. The loud squelch and the slight lift of hips told Rodimus that he had gone directly to the source. While nothing was visible beyond the flex of Megatron’s wrist and the jump of his knuckle as the finger was repeatedly pumped in and out of soft silicone, Rodimus got the picture.

He opened his mouth to ask if he could see, but before any words could come out, Megatron’s hand retreated from its foxhole to once more massage his node.

It appeared they would, thankfully, be busy for awhile.

--

A hand gently grabbed Rodimus’s shoulder before he could pass through the doorway.

He paused and a scuffed up datapad appeared in front of him.

“You almost left this behind.”

“What is it—Oh.”

That was right; the datapad with the denied expense report and Brainstorm’s complaint. Rodimus had entirely forgotten about it. He also didn’t recall it looking so banged up, but then again… he had tossed it aside with reckless abandon in favor of… other, far more interesting things.

He took it from Megatron’s grasp, turning around to face him.

“I’ll have you look at it later.” If he didn’t forget to ask, though he could count on Brainstorm to follow up regularly when it was his grant money on the line. “When you’re not, uh, taking a break.”

“What is it anyway?”

A dangerous question that could very well lead into working off the clock and they both knew that. But, at that point, that would be Megatron’s problem. Rodimus had already acknowledged that this was supposed to be a “work free” time. If Megatron pursued official tasks anyway, well, that was on him now.

Now it was an opportunity for Rodimus to offload this task.

“Oh, this? Nothing much, just an expense report.” A bright, eager grin stretched across his face. “Mags denied it without any comments—“

“Again?” Megatron cut him off, scoffing like he’d been told a joke beneath his dignity. Did Megatron still have any dignity? “The software update last week rearranged the menu; Ultra Magnus must have hit the wrong button without realizing. It’s happened a couple of times—simple mistake, but, regrettably, the whole thing will have to be reentered fresh. A tedious reduplication of work. Have it resubmitted.”

Rodimus stood there with his mouth still hanging open but the sentence he had been in the middle of.

That certainly wasn’t the explanation he had been expecting, but he also hadn’t experienced any issues with the rearranged menu. It hadn’t even occurred to him that it could have been a problem. At least that was easily solved.

“Uh, great. Thanks.”

Megatron continued, changing topics.

“Shall I see you again at same time in, say, three days?”

[i-didnt-hate-it]

I didn't hate The Fall Guy, I absolutely loved it!

There's nothing that makes me want to make movies more than watching movies about making movies.

Inside me there are two wolves. One loves watching serious, "important" ✨️cinema✨️, and the other one loves watching fun, over the top action movies. Because both of them are cinema, matter what anyone says. Movies are a way to escape. To have some fun when you aren't feeling too great. To have a laugh when you've been crying too much. To have a cry when you've been holding it in too long. To get angry in a way that inspires you to make a change. To get scared enough to feel something when you think you've gone numb.

If Nicole Kidman needs a new AMC commercial, tell her to call me.

Anyway, if you love movies, if you love action, if you love stunts, The Fall Guy is for you. If you love Dune (in a fun way, not a crazy zealot way) you'll love The Fall Guy.

I loved almost everything, if not everything about this movie. I thought the story was a lot of fun, the soundtrack was great, the cinematography was cool, the pacing was consistent, and of course the action, vfx and stunts were awesome!

The performances struck a balance of earnestness and tongue-in-cheek that reminds me of the self-awareness of Barbie or The LEGO Movie. Ryan Gosling is definitely still feeling the Kenergy, and it's nice to see Ken doing well on his own without Barbie. Actually, scratch that, he found a different Barbie in Emily Blunt, who made me wish I was on a film set right now so I could fall in love with a camera operator. I haven't directed a movie (yet), but I could feel her nerves as a first-time director, but her growing confidence also came across beautifully. Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Tom Cruise–sorry, Tom Ryder–made me remember that I love to watch good actors act like bad actors. I feel like Hannah Waddingham can't give a bad performance, 10/10, no notes. I wish Winston Duke had more screentime, but what he had, he absolutely owned. The only other thing I've seen him in was Us, which was fantastic, but I definitely want to see more.

But of course, my standout performance has to be my girl Stephanie Hsu!! It's criminal how little I saw her in the marketing of The Fall Guy, it's almost like she's just a Jobu Tupaki cameo, but she absolutely crushed her scenes. I mean, they gave her a great action scene, thank you EEAAO for showing the world what Stephanie can do.

Slight spoilers in this next paragraph. The Fall Guy isn't overly emotional, but there was one part that got me moist in the eyes. It wasn't the love story, okay it was part of that, or the message about always getting back up, or that nihilism is a viable worldview (I learned that from EEAAO, nothing matters 😁), it was the line that Ryan Gosling says to Emily Blunt's character Jody, about how she has to finish her movie because she might end up inspiring the next generation of Jodys. As soon as he said that, just a wave of emotion. Because that's how movies keep going, because filmmakers inspire filmmakers who inspire filmmakers. It's so simple, yet it is so profound and beautiful. And the fact that a movie has the power to inspire a young woman to make a crazy fun Mad Max/Dune love story with Jason Momoa is so stupidly powerful. But this movie also has the power to inspire the next generation of stunt performers, directors, writers, producers, and all that is just amazing.

If you've read this far, it looks like you're just as crazy as me, the guy who will sit in the front row of as many IMAX viewings of as many movies as he can, because he just loves movies. And like I said, nothing makes me want to make movies more than watching movies about making movies.

[12romy]

Here's a little present for @my-brain-dump for the prompt game!! Sewis with a crossover of Criminal AU and accidental marriage! Thanks for the ask, I promise I'll tru to write the other asks soon ;)

Enjoy~

The plan was simple. Get in, get the goods, get out. Lewis should've known things never went smoothly - but then again, maybe it was on him for trying to rob a priest. A very much not innocent priest, but still.

Sebastian wasn't one to do a sloppy job, but they might have underestimated Padre Fernando. It was really their luck, to enter the church and find themselves in the middle of a meeting of the local mafia instead of finding it empty like planned.

Lewis panicked a little, but Sebastian made his the discreet code gesture of"follow me" and started to talk.

"Padre!" Sebastian cried out dramatically, and took Lewis' hand. "Please, marry us!"

How Lewis managed to keep his pokerface was a miracle.

The priest made a movement and his men sat back down, a frown on their face but no guns out yet.

"You... Want to get married?" the old man said slowly, suspicious.

"I am leaving the country tomorrow," Lewis blurted out, taking over. "I have this job offer and I don't know when I'll come back... We want to get married before this, in front of God. Please, Padre..."

There were some hushed talk between him and his goons, and Lewis was tempted to run away right now. Sebastian's hand was moist, but maybe it was Lewis' own hand.

"Alright, but I'm afraid we will have to do this quickly."

Fuck. Lewis thought he'd refused, and they'd be able to go on their merry way.

"Oh, thank you so much, Padre!" Sebastian exclaimed, with a unnerving enthusiasm, and Lewis forced a smile on his face.

"Thank you," he breathed out, and if he sounded emotional, it was probably because he was just a little upset with this turn of events.

Lewis might be a thief, and a criminal, but he was a fervent catholic. Marrying was no joke, especially marrying in front of an altar, blessed by a priest.

It was done in a ten minutes. Padre Fernando had made a short speech, read a passage of the bible, the usual "until death do you part". Lewis had said the I do, then Sebastian, and it had felt so... Ungodly.

"You may now kiss," the Padre said, with a peaceful and innocent smile on his face that made him look like a nice grandpa and not the mafia boss he was.

The kiss felt... Rather less ungodly - which was a little surprising considering the amount of tongue it involved. Sebastian was a very good kisser, and Lewis would lie if he said he hadn't thought about kissing him a few times before. Just not in this context exactly.

The priest barely had the time to say the last prayer to conclude the wedding when suddenly, the door opened, and a whole squat of policemen entered, heavily armed.

"Hands in the hair, Alonso!" one of them cried, then took in the situation, Lewis and Sebastian in front of the altar. "Civilians? Come here, quickly!"

The priest started to draw his gun and Lewis pushed Sebastian on the ground. It left the line clear for the policemen to disharm him - by shooting a bullet through his arm.

The rest was a bit of a blur. They were interrogated - as witness, of course, and innocent bystander. The police bought their story, and they received several congratulations on the wedding.

They made it out of the station unscathed, and unarrested, which was quite a feat.

"It's only a matter of time before they realise we're not innocent. They might check," Lewis said worriedly.

"I guess now's a good time to leave the country, huh?" Sebastian smiled. "Tell me, what are your thoughts on the Caribbeans? I hear it's lovely at this time of year, and well... We do have a wedding to celebrate."

Lewis groaned in despair. "This is serious, Sebastian. We got married for real!"

"It's fine, we didn't sign any-"

"We married in front of God!" Lewis screamed out, pointing at the sky. "You hardly get a more important witness! Who cares about pieces of paper!"

Sebastian hesitated for a second. "Well... Might as well do it seriously, then, no?" he offered with a smile.

Lewis searched in his eyes, hesitant.

"Okay..."

"Cool!" Sebastian grinned. "I'll get us fake IDs with matching family name!"

"This is not a cover story, Seb, this is serious!"

"I know it's not a cover story," he huffed. "That's why we're going on a honeymoon, and that's why we're wearing the same last name from now on. We should also get rings, I know exactly a nice jewelry store where we can steal them from."

Lewis was just a little bit charmed.

[smalltownfae]

Now that I finished Going Postal I am replying to the questions on this post.

How did you feel about the book?

I will just copy and past what I wrote on goodreads here:

This is one of the funniest books in the series. I did miss the surprise of having an emotional moment that makes me cry this time. I got so used to expecting that. Moist von Lipwig and Adora Belle Dearheart are introduced in this book and they are both fantastic characters. I also liked the post office workers and the golems. It was a joy to see Vetinari and Ridcully again since they are both favourites. There are also some mentions of Watch characters that were delightful. In this entry of the Discworld series Vetinari gives a chance to the main character, Moist, to work at the post office and make it functional again. Mr. Lipwig is a conman and it was really interesting to see his internal conflicts and his interactions with other characters. I especially liked the contrast between him and Mr. Gilt. The commentary about government services and collectors was top notch. Even though this is a very strong book in the series, I expected more from it because it is the favourite Discworld book of so many people. At first it didn't even feel like a Discworld book to me. It was probably because of the addition of chapters and the inclusion of so many new characters, but I quickly got used to that. Still, the book felt a bit too long. I only needed the scenes following the main character since those were the best and all the other inclusions didn't seem extremelly necessary to me. The exception to this is the epilogue, which mirrors the first chapter beautifully.

2. Do you have any favourite characters?

Vetinari and Ridcully are still my favourites here, but I really liked Moist and Adora Belle. Mr. Gilt was a great villain too.

3. Favourite scene?

Probably the fire scene when Moist saves people and (most importantly) a cat.

4. Favourite quotes?

"What kind of man would put a known criminal in charge of a major branch of government? Apart from, say, the average voter."

Mr. Pump's speech to Moist of "When Banks Fail, It Is Seldom Bankers Who Starve".

"Grandad was the tower-master and had been everywhere and knew everything. Everyone called him Grandad. He was twenty-six."

"There was a pregnant pause. It gave birth to a lot of little pauses, each one more deeply embarrassing than its parent." (Abercrombie would have loved this one)

"Moist couldn't have stopped himself now for hard money. This was where his soul lived: dancing on an avalanche, making the world up as he went along, reaching into people's ears and changing their minds."

"Sometimes the truth is arrived at by adding all the little lies together and deducting them from the totality of what is known."

5. Did you gain anything from reading this book?

The knowledge of what GNU and Go postal mean.

[diagonal-queen]

thungo thursday pt2

ep 6 (put it under a cut because this one is LONG)

fukuchi be like 'the agency couldn't possibly be smart enough to- oh wait nvm i forgot ranpo existed lol' like more than once and i think that is testament to the fact that RANPO BEST BOY

'have you forgotten? we're terrorists' ICONIC BEHAVIOUR

man and i complain about doing one 37 hour work week. after this one week the agency needs to take a NAP. AND THE MAFIA TOO. imagine there's like just no criminal activity or anything for like three days and everyone's like ?? but on day 4 atsushi and akutagawa are fighting to the death at the port and everyone is like 'ah. business as usual' lmaoooo

omg every time the hunting dogs song comes on i get so hyped lmao im like yESSS ACTION

'that man, that demon, the evillest most scawy man ever in the world....etc etc' and its just some guy doing the most coy babygirl pose a guy can possibly do

wait DAZAI WHAT DID YOU DO. HOW DID YOU DO IT

taneda btw deserved none of this he was just some nice old dude and then sigma fucking stabbed him lmao

dazai is like the personification of the perjury mechanic in drv3. 'go on lie. you gotta. lie now. cmon pussy you wont'

OH MY GOD CHUUYA

my god fyozai is so fucking babygirl. also wdym dazai?? if the two of you were the last ones on earth you should just have gay sex. its not that hard smh

oh no dazai falled down through the flore

OH MY GOD MYKOLA AND SIGMA

BESTIE??

BESTIE?????

BESTIE????????????????

BESTIE??????????????????????

B

E

S

T

I

E

?

?

?

?

?

?

?

?

dm me if you want to receive a free 2min audio file of me laughing about this (i have a headache from laughing. my throat fucking hurts so bad. i'm pretty sure it's actually bleeding. my eyes are moist with tears. BESTIE???????)

do you even needa ask why i'm here?? ⭐️❤️☺️ *voice drops 6 octaves* i'm here to murder you 👹👹👹

and then after that fyodor was just like 'teehee he's so romantic x' like bro

dazai: *turns to the camera like he's on the office* waow

i love mykola's little laugh it's so silley

omg they're actually animating him so well. bones must've seen the reception from s4 and decided to step it up 💀

dazai and fyodor are simultaneously evil grown men and bimbo highschool girls and it's such a look. 'omg ur friends are so cute <3' 'omg right???' also mykola my beloved i want to be yours forever pls

i love how bram's acting all tough like aya can't just open the casket and leave and render him thoroughly powerless lmao

omg the official anime aya and bram sillies begin. we've been waiting for this for months folks so far so good

it was already pretty funny that aya is carrying bram like a backpack but actually seeing her running with him on her back is like a billion times funnier especially since this shit is life or death. but she just got a whole entire vampire on her back no problem sjhsksjssjhj

sigma: watashi wa shiguma me: fucking superb you funky little toddler

imagine if it was a fucking prank this whole time and mykola just injected them with a slow-working sedative or something that would be so funny. like all of this for nothing sksjksjsjks and then he just stabs fyodor or something the end. boom world save

oh ok nvm the vampires can talk just fine i guess lmao. also i genuinely cant tell if im supposed to be taking this episode seriously or not. one second people are being brutally slaughtered next moment silley little guys??? such is the way of bsd i guess

'you're a failure of a woman' my dude she is literally 10 years old she is nowhere close to being a woman shut your misogynistic ass up lmao

OKAY BECAUSE ok ok listen i was wondering what music they were gonna use for bram and when i heard the ending music i was like 'ok a little anticlimactic but i understand' and then it TRANSITIONED into the ACTUAL ENDING??? 10/10

hehe. bestie

[wellprompted]

shit said, 5th time’s the charm

“if you’d interrogated me a little harder I would’ve confessed.”

“are you moIST?”

“______ fucking shoved her heathen tongue through the back of my hEAD!”

“sex is a contact sport.”

“for context, _______ has some big boobies”

“you are a USELESS waste of oxygen—”

“please, no more penises, guys, please!”

“oop, I slipped and grabbed your throat.”

“just put it in, man.”

“it’s way too late to listen to you scream”

“get out of there, you fucknut”

“this is why i fuck with the lights off.”

“oh I shouldn’t have told you to kill yourself, my bad.”

“I don’t belong in this flesh vessel.”

“there’s no dick on that snowman.”

“dude i wish there was, i’d be riding it.”

“it’s your turn to be in the hentai.”

“my hands are stuck my hands are stuck my hands are stuck!”

“don’t pin me against the wall, ____! that’s not where i should be!”

“can’t be a war criminal if there’s no geneva code.”

“don't kill both of us you stupid bitch”

“you wanna throw me in the fire you're dying with me”

“thanks for the handholding, I’ll paypal you later.”

“aphrodite cursed sappho with simp disease.”

“I forgot that ______ came strapped.”

“oh i was dead during that year.”

“they're slaves to the education system, your honour“

“i felt this deep in my meowmeow”

“unfortunately god has let us live another day so we're here to terrorize you”

“YOU SWING THE DICK?”

“Feast thy eyes on thee buttcheeks”

“THE MOUTH IS WILLING BUT THE FLESH IS WEAK”

“god kinkshamed horny salmons so hard they can only live 2 weeks”

“why did god let the intern code the blood”

“so now i get to objectify men”

“you put your oviposition away”

“IM TRYING TO SOLVE A MYSTERY”

“i am the clown and this is my circus”

“if i wanted to try authentic swedish balls i’d go to a dating app”

Let’s be heroes!

I think I’d rather live.

Shit shit shit shit shit----

Don’t save that bitch; protect the power thingie!

I’m Vader!

Who needs their dreams crushed?

I do---wait…

Has anyone seen that guy; I threw him somewhere

This guy? I executed him; he landed at my feet!

They didn’t get it right the first time!

What do I have to do, blow out the window?

Hopefully you get some more fucking rocket launchers!

[just-1-lonely-person]

Warnings: foot stuck in bear trap, (very minor) mention of death, blood

This day can't possibly get any worse...

Villain could barely walk from the pain, limping from tree to tree and leaning their weight onto them for support. The bark was moist from the night before, and moss stuck to the criminals sides, dirtying their new costume.

Let me summarize, just so I can determine if this is the worst day or not: i lost to hero, i got lost in the woods, i stepped into a bear trap and now my leg is bleeding...

So, worst day? Villain shook their head and sighed. There had been worse, like the day they fell into a river and had made a fool of themselves on live tv, or the day their parents had died.

But losing to hero was embarrassing, at the very least. They hated losing! And they had been so close to robbing that bank...

This day could have been worse if they didn't wear their costume, which protected them ways better than the old one. Only because of the metal plates did they still have their foot. But on the downside, now they had to drag that stupid bear trap around with them.

And that thing was heavy.

They hissed in pain when the trap hit a root. This day was definitely one of the most painful ones.

Villain looked around, half hoping to see a road, or just something that would tell them where they were.

And they indeed see something. A little cabin, a car parked next to it. The lights were on, a silhouette was visible in one of the windows.

Well, asking for help wasn't something they had thought they'd do, but they had no other option, had they?

They circled the cabin to the front door, leaning on the doorframe and knocking as loudly as they could.

Nothing.

Had they been wrong? They could have sworn they had seen someone... Were they already starting to hallucinate from blood loss?

Just to be sure -and because they didn't know what else to do- they knocked again.

After a few seconds, they heard shuffling, heavy footsteps and a groan, and when the door swung open, it creaked and warm light flooded the already darkening forest.

The villain saw the man's side profile first.

Damn.

The guy made them forget their pain for a second, until he turned his head and villain stared into his clear green eyes. As soon as they saw the scar underneath the left eye, they froze.

Okay, this day just won the prize of being the absolute worst.

Hero furrowed a brow, and villain felt the man tense. "Villain."

It was usual for the hero to know their villains identity, and vice versa. But booths sides kept it a secret, because why should you reveal the others identity when they would just reveal yours in return?

"Y-Yeah...", they choked out, only now realizing how dry their throat was. "I kinda...kinda have a...a small problem..." Their words slurred together. They hadn't even lost that much blood, or at least they thought. Maybe it was from the exhaustion.

They looked down at their foot, taking in all the blood around the trap.

"Kinda hurts..." It hurt a lot.

Hero knelt down on the dirt to take a closer look. "Looks like you ran into Jimmy's trap." He glanced up, smirking. "Gonna guess it was your scream i heard when i arrived home?"

Villain felt their face grow hot. "No."

They had screamed. Very loudly, in fact. Out of shock and at the sudden pain. They had cried and sobbed on the forest ground, trying to get the trap off.

But hero didn't need to know that.

"T-Take it off...please?"

The crime-fighter got back up, putting the villains arm over their shoulders. "Let's get inside firs, shall we?"