#and my immediate thought was ah shit i fucked up i should post it on tumblr dot com forreal. bro is chronically online even in dreams ☠️

[kisiselintihar]

Had a dream i got a bad ending while playing bustafe which is insane bcoz i have never number one played the game number two seen any bad endings. ?

[tossawary]

I think it would be fun to do a "character swaps with older version of themselves" fic with Moshang. A post-canon Mobei-Jun who has been happily married for a while (probably at least 50 years old) accidentally touches some plot device artifact and time travels, swapping places with his 20ish-year-old self. Older MBJ wakes up in head disciple Shang Qinghua's bed where his younger self had been napping.

Younger MBJ lands in his own palace, where he is quickly found and fawned over by Older SQH, who can't help but think this MBJ is so cute. The System quickly confirms for Shang Qinghua that this situation has been sorted into a "multiple timelines" thing, so SQH doesn't have to worry about "protecting the timeline" by doing anything like hiding the fact that he's MBJ's husband. (So, there's an alternate timeline younger version of Airplane Bro now? He's just going to... ignore having an existential crisis about it. Yeah.)

Which is great because Older MBJ would not have thought about this at all as a potential issue. Older MBJ also thinks Younger SQH (Younger Airplane Bro) is incredibly cute and has no problem informing him that they're married in the future. Younger Airplane Bro is trying to figure what the fuck is happening, but he's having trouble thinking over the sound of how MBJ only became hotter: MBJ didn't get much taller, but he did get wider, heavier, more muscular, and hairier. Holy shit. Older MBJ doesn't even have any problems passionately kissing Younger SQH just to prove that they're married. And he smiles! He's so gentle and communicative! Comparatively!

("Luo Binghe is the Demon Emperor in my time," Older MBJ says. "Ah? Who's Luo Binghe?" Younger Airplane Bro lies very badly. "Hmmm, so you did know," Older MBJ says, and then makes some comment about LBH's husband that makes Younger SQH go, "HIS WHAT NOW?!")

Younger MBJ is trying to be cool, not really confused or scared, and Older SQH spoils him rotten by showing off the home that they're made together and how well the palace works to serve and defend MBJ. Linguang-Jun can't show up here because SQH will light him on fire if he shows his face. Younger MBJ doesn't even really like his SQH yet and is also struggling with how good Older SQH looks: a little taller, broader, relaxed and easygoing, answering all of his questions and explaining important things to him, dressed like a beloved demon lord's spouse, efficiently ordering everyone around. "Call me Gege," Older Shang Qinghua said with a wink, and it went straight to Younger MBJ's defenseless heart; he is developing new kinks immediately. Help him.

In the end, after a few days at most, they manage to switch Older and Younger MBJ back without too much issue. Older SQH is a little annoyed that his husband kissed an alternate timeline version of himself, but mostly because he sure would have liked that experience when he was only a disciple! Okay, SQH may have pet Younger MBJ's head and pinched his cheeks and hugged him and brushed his hair a little and shamelessly lavished him with good examples of human affection, but it's not the same!!!

Younger MBJ and Younger SQH in the alternate timeline are left in SQH's tiny head disciple house, completely flustered, sitting next to each other and barely able to look at each other. What. The. Fuck. Eventually, Shang Qinghua manages to say, "Uh, do you want to make out?" at the same time that Mobei-Jun says, "We should get married as soon as possible. Tomorrow."

[aajxs]

DRESSED FOR REVENGE OSAMU MIYA !

🍙 : ̗̀➛ when you find out your boyfriend of three years cheated on you for months before finally breaking up with you, payback is the only thing on your mind. what more are you to do other than get with his twin brother as a form of revenge, and maybe something a bit more.

CONTENTS // mentions of cheating / atsumu slander (still my husband don't get it twisted) / reader getting her get back / NSFW! / fingering / oral (f! receiving) / biting / praise kink / hair pulling / mentions of alcohol + alcohol consumption / pussydrunk osamu / cum eating..? / vulgar language / pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, good girl (is that even a pet name??? girl idk), sweet girl) / unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it) / the d was fireeeeee ( unedited; 4.5k. )

PAIRINGS // osamu miya x fem!reader

A/N // where my fellow osamu girlies at 😓???

I RECOMMEND LISTENING TO. . . ESCAPISM. BY RAYE . . .WHILE READING.

// MASTERLIST .

OSAMU MIYA thinks his brother might be the biggest idiot he's ever met.

You and Atsumu have been dating for three years, and he's thrown it all down the drain simply because you'd been too busy to have sex. It's almost hypocritical. He's just as busy as you, and yet he broke up with you over something so simple. What ever happened to communication is key?

Atsumu has always been the friendly type, and honestly you think you're too numb to care when his brother texts you to tell you that he moved on pretty quick. Too quick, if you're being honest.

You decide that, in your horrendous post breakup state, you should go to a club. Seeing as the entire fucking world knows that you're the girl famous volleyball player Atsumu Miya fumbled horrendously, (at least according to the thousands of comments on his Instagram telling him he downgraded) you think it'll be pretty easy to find a guy to fuck and post on your own Instagram.

A halter top hugs your figure, cropped just above your bellybutton piercing. The black miniskirt you're wearing doesn't leave much to the imagination. The golden bracelets on your wrists create a satisfying jangle with each movement, and a golden necklace is paired to match. Your makeup is simple yet flattering, and it's obvious you're here for straight business as you strut inside the massive club.

Although, you don't even get the chance to find a seat at the bar when you find a familiar face. At first you think it's Atsumu, but you're quickly proved wrong.

Osamu didn't always have slightly softer features than his brother, they used to be identical. But, after highschool, you think he got tired of being the other Miya and decided to look striking in his own way.

You're met with dull and dark blue-grey eyes when your gaze locks with his. His hair is a bit more brown nowadays, but it still has that unmistakable shade of grey box dye mixed in. You don't miss the way he lights up at the sight of you before waving you over with a smile. You pause in thought for a few moments.

Is Atsumu here with him? What if him and his new girlfriend are here? If so, you're probably cooked. Although, when it comes down to it, you have no reason to be so intimidated. You're here for yourself, aren't you? So with that, you return Osamu's charming smile and walk over to him.

He gets up to greet you with a hug, and you happily accept it. "What's got you all dolled up?" He smiles playfully.

"I finally decided to get out after being cooped up for so long after the breakup. Think it's about time I get back out there, don't you?" You tilt your head as you sit down on the cushioned stool next to his.

He hums, "Ah shit, almost forgot about that." He says a bit nervously. A large hand meets the back of his neck as he sends you a closed eyed smile. Your eyes land on his bicep almost immediately, but you're quick to avert your gaze as to not get caught staring.

"It's alright. He's moved on hasn't he? I need to catch up." You sigh as you order a drink. Osamu, with a few protests from you, puts it on his tab.

"Oh yeah, how long have they been datin'? Four months now, if I recall." He says casually, watching as the bartender places the cold drink in front of you.

You thank the bartender before pausing. Four months? You and Atsumu only broke up two months ago. Osamu must notice the way you freeze because he tilts his head curiously.

"You alright?" He asks, blinking. The first thought that comes to his mind was that maybe it was a little too soon to mention how long they've been dating.

You don't answer the question, but quickly ask another. "When did Atsumu tell you we broke up?" You ask, your perfect brows creasing together slightly. Osamu narrows his eyes in thought.

"Uh.. around the time him and the new girl started dating." He answers. You pause again.

"We broke up two months ago." You say, rubbing your brow. Osamu stares at you in shock for a few moments. He's no longer leaning into his hand, now staring at you as if you'll break down at any second.

Honestly, if it were up to Osamu you would've never gotten with his brother in the first place.

You met Osamu during your first year of highschool and only when you became the manager for their volleyball team did you meet Atsumu. You hit it off instantly and started dating a few months before your second year.

Osamu was bummed because he obviously wanted you first and his brother knew that yet still got with you because the majority of the time Atsumu only cares about himself. You were basically the only person who liked him in highschool aside from girls who'd never met him and only chased after his looks.

He watched from afar as his brother treated you like shit and talked about other girls behind your back. Atsumu never acted on them (at least as far as Osamu knows), so there was never really any reason to tell you unless he wanted to sabotage your entire relationship for his own gain. Back then? He would've never done that because as long as you're happy, right? But now.. Osamu has waited too long to be this close to you without his brother at your side.

And right now, Osamu thinks that he could still have a chance. You're obviously still upset about Atsumu, but you wouldn't have come to this specific club if you didn't think you'd find a one night stand.

"You good?" He asks. Osamu has never been good at reading feelings (he's much better at expressing them, you know because you've watched him and Atsumu go at it multiple times over the smallest things. Maybe it's just a twin thing, but they always fought more than most siblings), so he isn't exactly sure what to say as you disassociate for a few moments.

Your nose scrunches slightly, "I'm alright. I guess I just didn't expect him to cheat after all we went through together." You respond belatedly.

Osamu let's out a small oh as he continues gazing at you.

Atsumu didn't just fumble you, he had the bag and watched as every single item fell out of it. How he could ever cheat on you, Osamu will never know. His brother has always been the more idiotic of the two.

"Anyways," You speak up a bit hesitantly, obviously still stuck on the unbearably recent new that your boyfriend of three years cheated on you, "What're you doing here, 'samu?" You ask, blinking away your thoughts as you tilt your head.

You take another sip of your drink, swirling the ice for a moment before you down the alcohol. Your eyes are still locked with his as you do so, awaiting a response to your question.

He stutters for a few moments, averting his gaze before answering. "I jus' needed to get out. Onigiri Miya has been pretty busy lately 'nd I think I deserve a break." Osamu responds, quickly chugging the rest of his drink.

You have to hold back a gasp as you watch some of the liquid drip from his plump lips and down his neck. The bead trails down his adams apple and he quickly wipes the liquid before it can disappear under the white button down shirt he's wearing.

The top few buttons are undone, giving you a peek of his chest. There's a necklace around his neck that you don't recognize, but the way the tiny chain falls on his tanned chest catches your eye.

He's always been attractive, but he just looks so painfully good under the strobing lights inside this crowded club. The multicolored lights ignite his features in ways you've never exactly paid attention to, and you can't help but trace each and every detail of his face with your eyes.

Osamu eyes you for a moment before they trail over to your empty drink. "D'ya want another?" He asks, snatching you away from your lewd thoughts about what you might do with his mouth.

"I don't think you want to know what I want." The words fly out of your mouth before you can think, and you quickly regret them as his wide eyes lock with yours.

You're stammering to find an excuse, but when a cheeky smirk appears on his face, you pause.

"I think I do." He tilts his head playfully, and you can't conceal the intake of breath those words cause.

A sudden confidence spikes through you, "I want you to take me back to yours." Your lips twitch up, and his smile grows.

"Careful. I might take you seriously if you keep lookin' at me like that." He clicks his tongue in response.

You trace the brim of your glass with your fresh set of nails, a low clink sounding out when you tap it a few times. "And who said I wasn't serious?" You flirt shamelessly, not shying away from his strong gaze.

And that's how you got to his house, your lips smashed against his as he guides the two of you through the front door. He uses his foot to kick the door shut before pinning you to the nearest thing possible.

He can taste your flavored lipgloss as your lips move in perfect synchrony, a sweet mix of strawberry and the slightest bit of bourbon. Your tongues are intertwined and you're basically eating each other's faces.

Osamu's strong hands are on the exposed skin of your waist, tightly gripping your sides as he pulls away from the sloppy kiss. A curse leaves your lips as his lips meet your jaw, then begin moving down your neck. He nips and sucks at your supple skin as he lifts you into his arms effortlessly.

Gasps leave your swollen lips as he carries you to his bedroom. If not for you, he would've hit the wall on his way. As soon as he reaches his room, he closes the door with his foot once again and lays you down on his King bed.

He skillfully pulls off your strapped heels, softly putting them on the floor near his bed as he climbs on top of you. "Take off your shirt, 'samu." You order breathlessly, and he hazily smirks.

"Of course." He says playfully as he tugs the black shirt off his body. Your eyes are met with thick muscle, something you should've expected but didn't. Your nails run down his abs, tickling his skin. Your fingers trace every indention of his toned chest his his lips meet with your neck again.

The softest moans leave your mouth as he suckles on your skin, focused solely on leaving marks. He only pulls away to take your top off before he gets straight back to work. Crisp air hits your once covered skin, sending a subtle shiver down your spine. His thumbs run over your hardened nipples, a shaky gasp leaving your lips when he pinches them.

You don't think you've been this wet in your life. Your arousal is painfully obvious as your legs squeeze together, a lousy attempt at taming the waterfall between your thighs.

Osamu suddenly swirls his tongue around one of your sensitive nipples, making you moan out loud. You bite your lip to conceal anymore noises.

"Don't get all shy now, pretty." He hoaresly mutters into your breast, his voice sending vibrations through your body. Your lips part at the statement, and you can feel him smirk into your skin as he licks and sucks and nips at your sensitive nipple.

Your hands make their way to his toned back, trailing over taut muscle as you reach into his hair. Your tight grip and occasional pulls have Osamu going crazy.

Honestly, he could care less if he's just a rebound. You're the most beautiful woman alive and he gets to feel you. You might consider yourself his brother's leftovers, but he considers you as a full course meal.

Your entire being is encased in warmth, and every time his lips touch your body you only get hotter. Every single touch and lick and bite only grows everlasting fire in the depths of your weak soul.

You're so fucking pretty under him, making the sweetest noises he's waited years to hear. It's not long until he's finally pulling your skirt and lacy panties down to your ankles, basking in the mess between your legs.

"All this for me?" He says playfully, glancing up at you. You tug his hair out of annoyance and he groans. You must've liked that sound because he doesn't miss the way your pussy clenches around nothing.

"What do you want me to do?" He asks, gazing up at you with sincere eyes. The deepness in his look ignites things that you've never experienced before. He's driving you mad.

You gasp, "Just fuck me, Osamu." He smirks at your bluntness.

The whimper of his name has him tugging his pants off in mere seconds. He licks his lips as he swipes two fingers along your wetness, eliciting a moan from you.

You look so good from this angle.

He inserts two fingers without any trouble, your pretty cunt sucking his fingers in as they graze your gummy walls. He pumps thick fingers in and out of you for a moment before pulling them out and placing them in his mouth. You taste like heaven, and he hopes you miss the way his eyes roll back.

"Holy shit," He groans as he licks his fingers clean, "'m sorry, I gotta taste you first." He apologizes for no reason in particular. It's not like you don't enjoy the way his mouth latches on your cunt.

He's taking his sweet time, and it seems to you like he's afraid of what might happen if he goes all out.

You grab his hair and pull him from between your legs, leaning forward to cup his jaw a bit roughly. "If you're scared to do it right, Osamu, you don't have to eat me out at all." You say breathlessly and demandingly. You could probably cum just by the look on his face right now. His mouth and chin is dribbling with a mix of your slick and his own saliva, and his dark eyes are half lidded in a haze of pleasure. He's staring up at you like he's never seen anything greater (he hasn't).

He nods, but you're not quite satisfied with the curt movement. "Use your words, baby." You order as you angle his head up a bit more. A small gasp leaves your lips when his grip on your thighs tightens.

"Yes ma'am." He responds, a slight attitude in his hoarse voice. You're so hot when you order him around.

He smirks and when you let go of his face he gets straight to work. He's slurping up your juices and shoving his tongue inside your sopping pussy like a man starved. Osamu has never been one for messes, but he can't help but be sloppy as he eats you.

Osamu has never been anything less than diligent when it comes to things that he deems important, so he's making sure to put his full focus into devouring you whole.

A chainlink of moans exit your mouth as he rubs your clit in circles while practically drinking your insides. With every buck of your hips and mewl from your plump lips, Osamu groans ever so slightly into your tight hole. They send shockwaves through your body, that familiar knot slowly tying itself in your stomach with every grunt.

The chants of his name rolling off your tongue are like music to his deprived ears. You sound like an angel to him, and all he wants to do is keep eliciting lewd sounds from you. Your tight grip on his hair is making him even more aroused.

Salty tears are starting to run down your face, staining your face with your mascara. Osamu feels like an asshole for enjoying your cries and pleas for more.

"F-f-uhh-ck, 'samu!" You manage, loud moans leaving your throat. You don't remember the last time you felt this good. The knot in your abdomen grows tighter by the second and your moans grow louder with each particular flick of his tongue. You're seeing actual stars at this point.

"Ah, shit- G'na cum, Osamu!" You moan just as your high hits. The earth seems to stutter on its axis as you release on his face, your vision fading into a blinding white and your legs shaking profusely. He laps it up like a dog in heat, aiming to drink your cum like water. He doesn't even pull away once your plethora of moans is over, his tongue still licking stripes down your folds.

It's only when you reach into his hair and pull him away from your sensitive hole that he realizes you came. A string of saliva goes with him as he detaches from you. He almost looks intoxicated as he gazes up at you, licking his lips and wiping his cum covered face with the of back his hand. Osamu rests his head on your thigh, looking up at you hazily.

It's near silent as you calm down from your high, the only sound being your uneven pants and his deep breaths.

Osamu sucks on your skin as he kisses up your torso. His grip on your hips is tight and he whispers words of praise as his lips attach to supple skin.

"Y're so fuckin' beautiful." He sighs into your neck. All he wants to do right now is give you backshots into oblivion, but he has a bit of self control.

You hum, "Keep talking like that and I might fall in love." You murmur sarcastically in response. He hopes you miss the way he tenses up.

"Can I fuck you?" He asks bluntly. His dick is almost painfully hard right now and he doesn't think jerking off will do much knowing that he just ate you out.

You smirk, "Be my guest, 'samu." You lick your lips and tilt your head at him. He exhales shakily before leaning forward to kiss you sloppily. You can still subtly taste yourself on his lips as his tongue re-explores your mouth.

Osamu's hands trail from your hips and towards your legs, tightly gripping the fat and muscle of your thighs. You sigh slowly, your eyelids fluttering closed as you anticipate the actions to come.

He positions himself above you, dark greyish-brown hair falling towards your face along with the small chain. His hands reach towards his boxers, pulling them down. You try not to watch as he pulls his thick cock out but it's honestly hard not to.

A few protruding veins catch your eye, pre cum glistens over his slightly red tip, and you can't help but feel like he might just have the prettiest dick you've ever seen.. For an identical twin, Osamu seems to be bigger than his blond counterpart.

He wastes no time lining himself up with your entrance, dragging his dick between your folds. You let out a shaky breath as he smears around your wetness, an airy laugh leaving his swollen lips.

You have absolutely no idea how long he's been wishing for this exact moment. How many times he dreamed of having you in positions much more explicit than this.

He doesn't think you ever will know. He'll save himself the embarrassment.

"You asked to fuck me, now you won't put it in?" Your hips jut forward with your words. Osamu smiles at the action. He hooks an arm around one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder, your calf resting on his muscular shoulder.

He locks eyes with you as he finally begins slipping himself inside you. Your gummy walls hug his shaft tightly. A chainlink of his grunts and your moans bounce off the walls.

"Why're you so tight.." Osamu mutters. It's mostly to himself, but you can't help but hum at his words.

He curses lowly before pushing the rest of his length into you with a strong thrust. You moan loudly, whether in pain or pleasure neither of you can tell.

A deep breath leaves his lips, "R'ya alright, sweetheart?" Osamu asks, his tone concerning.

"Fuck, y-yes." You breathe, eyelids fluttering shut in ecstasy. You're inadvertently clenching around him, attempting to get used to his length.

He's placing gentle kisses along your collarbone, awaiting your permission to move. You take a good twenty seconds, basking in the silence as he leaves small marks along your neck and chest.

"Please, 'samu." You mutter, and he hums into your chest as his hips begin moving and the quiet noise of skin against skin sounds in his room.

You're whimpering, and little do you know he hasn't even begun yet. His strokes are soft and slow and he's barely moving, but the way your gummy walls clench around him have him itching to fuck the soul out of you.

Shaky breaths leave his plump lips, and your gasps match his. "Fuck, baby, 've gotta move." He grunts as his pace quickens and his thrusts harden.

It doesn't take long for the skin to skin action to get louder, plap plap plaps bouncing off the walls as he thrusts his cock in and out of you.

"Y're fuckin' made for me, aren't ya?" Osamu moans, and your noises grow louder by the second.

You've had sex, made love, been fucked, and everything in-between. But the way Osamu thrusts inside of you with such precision and bottled need has you going fucking crazy.

Your bodies are intertwined so tightly that you can barely tell where you begin and he ends. It's hot and sticky and disgusting but it's so fucking good the way he doesn't hold back.

That tight knot in your abdomen is coming back and the gasps you let out grow louder as he fucks into you, raw and unadulterated.

"Fuuuck- 'samu 'm gonna come soon—" You stammer, your hips grinding helplessly into him. When he pulls out you buck forward and it's like he never even leaves.

(You aren't sure how long he's been rutting into you, but you're sure you'll be sore in places you didn't even know you could be sore by the time he's done.)

Osamu's lips latch onto yours and it contrasts the way he's fucking into you at first. His kiss is sloppy and open mouthed yet just as slow and calculated as always, but he's growing hungry as he reaches his own high.

He's desperate, more desperate for you than he's ever been for anything else in his entire life. It's pathetic, he thinks, but you taste so fucking good and the way you clench around his cock makes him think you want him to cum inside.

"Keep fuckin' grippin' me like that 'nd I'll have no choice but to cum inside, princess." Osamu groans into your lips, and you swear to god if he keeps hitting that extra raw and gummy spot inside you you'll have his fucking kids.

Your nails are digging into his shoulders, but he doesn't seem to care. "Never been fucked like this, have ya?" He smugly questions. You decide not to answer because no, you haven't been fucked like this but you don't think you'll ever want it any other way after you're done.

And then, in one swift motion, he pulls out and flips you on your stomach before pounding into from the back. With your face squished uncomfortably into the pillow and drool pooling from your swollen lips, his hand practically gripping your scalp as he pulls on your tussled hair, you don't think you'd have this night any other way.

Osamu's other calloused hand latches to your hip with a bruising grip, and suddenly his pace quickens and hardens and you're everywhere and nowhere all at once. He leans forward, a breath trailing up the deep arch of your back as he thrusts into you with no remorse. He's waited too long to hold back, and now that he's got you he doesn't think he's ready to let you go quite yet.

"Such a good fuckin' girl f'me," Osamu moans. If it weren't for him being so close to you, you might've missed it in such a fucked state.

A gasp leaves your lips, "All yours, 'samu!"

"Yeah, all mine," A vibration trails down your back, and you're hit with the realization that he is just as much yours as you are his in this painfully blissful moment when your moans sync up.

The room is stuffy and reeks of sex and neither of you would have it either way. "C'mon sweet girl, come with me?" Osamu asks deeply in your ear, and you bite your lip so hard you think you might taste metallic.

A loud moan, "Fuck- yes, Osamu, please!" You practically scream, pleas leaving your wet lips. He can't quite see the way your eyes roll into the back of your head as he continues grinding so deeply into you, but he knows you look so fucking good from this angle.

"Inside, f-fuck, do it inside Osamu!" You gasp, and he doesn't sense even a tinge of regret in your demeanor once the words leave your pretty mouth, so that's exactly what he does.

Just as a deep groan leaves his mouth and his hot seed plants itself inside you, you're seeing galaxies as your reach your peak. That tightly knitted rope snaps in half and you're cumming all over his cock at the same time he coats your insides with his own white juices.

He pulls out and nearly collapses on you. Thankfully he doesn't rest his full weight on you, shifting slightly to the side so he can, not only rest his head on the pillow next to yours, but lean in to give you a gentle kiss.

You kiss him back, half-lidded and tired eyes slowly falling closed as you rest next to one another. A strong arm pulls you into him, and you wrap a leg around his own. Neither of you can ignore the way a lewd mix of each other's cum thickly drips down your thigh.

"Quick power nap, then another round. How 'bout it, sweetheart?" He asks, voice raspy and deep in your ear.

"You just fucked the life out of me, 'samu. Give it a minute," Your throat is raw, but your words come out clearly. He chuckles softly, lightly muttering a 'yes ma'am' into your ear.

You'll have to remind him to thank his dear brother for keeping it tight.

© AAJXS !

[ghulehunknown]

And He Sees Nothing Wrong With That

Terzo x F Reader

“You know you need to be punished for being too seducente”

Flashback Friday! Bringing back one of my first ever fics from AO3 and posting it here

Summary: Jealousy plagues Terzo’s mind after an unproductive and frustrating clergy meeting, and he sets out to prove you are his.

CW/Tags: sexual innuendo and humor, dry humping, oral sex (F receiving), public oral sex, vaginal fingering, light dom/sub, light degradation, light possessive behavior, spanking, established relationship, porn with plot

Word Count: 2.5K

On Saturday you headed into the chapel for a large meeting with Papa and several members of the clergy. You would finally be discussing the details of the next ritual installments.

During the first meeting of the day, Copia and one of the bishops kept staring at you and whispering to each other. Copia stole quick glances in your direction over and over. You quickly straightened the veil of your habit, feeling self conscious. Maybe they weren’t talking about you? You weren’t wearing anything revealing that day, your veil wasn’t out of place…So what could it be? You never had much interaction with the Cardinal before. You didn’t intend to return the looks but you couldn’t help your eyes darting back and forth through the pews to make sure if he was actually looking or not.

Terzo noticed this right away, and looked between you two while he was at the pulpit speaking. He paused momentarily, as he caught Copia’s eyes, then resumed speaking. “Ah sì, the fucking tour…” he trailed off, flipping through pages. “It’s going to be called the…” he traced his fingers along the paper and tapped it once he found the words. “Ah dio mio who wrote this shit?!”

You saw Copia frown a little and cross his arms. Slightly disgruntled, Terzo continued. “It’s the fucking Popestar Tour.” He gestured to himself, almost sarcastically showing off his full Papal regalia, and giving a little curtsy.

“I’m sorry, the Fucking Popestar Tour - are we fucking the audience now?” one of the other cardinals called out, garnering a few snickers from the clergy.

“What?” said Terzo.

Omega crumpled up his papers into a ball from the back pew and threw it at that cardinal’s head, nailing his target perfectly. The cardinal turned around to the ghoul, making foul gestures with his hands and cursing Satan’s name at him.

“Actually that’s a good idea!” piped up Copia for the first time in an hour, leaning forward in the front pew. That smart fucker, you thought. Pretend to sing praises of your Papa in front of the whole clergy while tearing him apart. He continued to glance towards you. You instinctively looked in his direction, now trying to warn him off from going any further, but he continued. “Papa Emeritus, we can barely afford these garments,” he said gesturing to Terzo’s robes. “Accounting is stretched thin, so we really should be thinking of ways to generate profit.”

Terzo shot a dark look in Copia’s direction, quickly shutting the Cardinal up. “Sì sì, like we have the time to line them up outside in the parking lot,” Terzo mused sarcastically. “You know,” he quipped, pointing his finger at Copia, boasting, “the shows have gotten bigger since I became Papa.” He glanced back at you and then to the audience.

“That’s perfect!” exclaimed one of the bishops. “Take a ride on the Pope - we’ll add it to the meet and greet experience!” (“Cazzo, that’s not what I meant,” said Terzo, though it fell on deaf ears.) The bishop clasped his hands together. “Hey, get HR on this immediately. Tack on an extra fifty euros to the regular meet and greet,” he murmured to the sister sitting next to him, who began scribbling on her clipboard. The rest of the audience murmured in agreement.

“Fifty…?” you could see Terzo mouth the words incredulously.

“Yes but how do we implement the fucking?” the sister asked. “Imperator will want to know the details.”

“Do we provide the condoms or does the audience?” someone else asked.

“Who said we’re using condoms?” shouted Rain, who sat in the back pews with the other ghouls. The younger ghouls whispered excitedly to each other and laughed boisterously. Alpha and Omega each took a turn to smack the younger ghouls on the back of the head, nearly knocking their masks off.

“We should definitely provide them,” said Copia. “You can’t trust any of these motherfuckers nowadays.”

“Who’s in charge of branding?” asked one of the cardinals. “They’ll be able to come up with something clever to put on the wrappers.”

“Cum Together!” said the sister, wagging her pen in the air, and continued writing furiously on her clipboard. Several clergy members nodded in agreement.

“Sì, just make it one big orgy,” added Copia, smiling sneakily, looking at you again. He chuckled. “You know, one time I went to an orgy - ”

“You shut up,” Terzo said, pointing a finger at Copia. Copia looked back at him offended but immediately snapped his mouth shut.

“Yes but HR will want to know the details - we need waivers a-and STD screenings - ” chimed in the sister, worriedly counting on her fingers before Terzo cut her off.

“No, no one is fucking me!” Terzo shouted. The room fell silent and he paused for a moment. “Not that cheaply anyway,” he added dryly, looking back through his notes to get back to the topic at hand. He scoffed and muttered under his breath, “Not since college…incredible.” He rolled his eyes and continued.

He finally calmed the audience down and finished speaking, then dismissed the clergy in a hurry to reconvene in fifteen minutes.

Copia leaned across the aisle to your pew before he left. “It was a good idea, no?” He shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the back pews to strike up conversation with the others.

Feeling annoyed, you turned back to him and started to say something but thought better of yourself and turned to face Terzo. Your eyes met his, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Oh shit, you thought, knowing just how this looked to him. You gathered your belongings and headed to the altar to start setting up the communion for mass later in the evening.

Terzo remained where he stood, gripping the sides of the pulpit as the clergy milled out of the front doors, tapping his fingers on the sleek mahogany. You could hear the gold nails on his leather black gloves click rhythmically against the wood. You gazed along his profile; he wore a frown and raised an eyebrow, looking straight ahead.

Once most of the clergy left, he walked over to the altar where you stood. “Come here, Sorella!” You tried to look busy to avoid the intensity of his gaze. His papal face paint looked even more menacing in the light of the chandelier, the light only picking up the white paint and his white eye. He seemed taller when he wore his mitre and full papal robes.

He grabbed the large silver Grucifix next to you and clutched your hair, forcing you face down and bending you over the altar. “We talked about this, Sorella. You understand the consequences, sì?”

You yelped. “Papa wait - ”

“Silence,” he commanded, pushing up your skirt and paddling you square on the ass with the metal cross. You let out a small moan. Fuck, why did that feel good? Your skin stung, mostly from the cold of the metal, as he wasn’t intending to mark you - only making a metaphorical point of who you belonged to.

“Yes, Papa,” you said, resigning while feeling your heart beat with excitement.

He tore down your panties to your ankles, spat into his hand, and shoved two clawed, gloved fingers into your pussy, unrelentingly moving them in and out. You moaned louder this time.

The two cardinals who were still in the back of the hall murmured and quickly shuffled out the front door.

“Sei mia,” he whispered menacingly quiet in your ear. He groped your left breast as he dry humped your thigh from behind, his golden nails still gripping you inside. “You know you need to be punished for being too seducente, si?”

You whined, the pain from his slap still stinging and his gold nails prodding your soft interior flesh. “Yes Papa I was so stupid,” you choked out, clinging to the cold marble altar for support. You could feel his rock hard erection prod into your thigh through his robes. He lifted up your leg to go deeper inside your cunt, now raw from his claws pounding into you feverishly.

He sighed contentedly. “You’re so tight, Sorella. I can feel you getting wetter with every touch, these gloves are sliding in so easily now. Cazzo!” he exclaimed, rubbing his clothed erection on your thigh in fervent passion. “You’re going to be moaning when the next session begins - just like my goddess should. Sei così futto bellissima. You are mine, and I am yours. I want the whole fucking clergy to see you’re mine, and show that idiota Copia his place. He thinks I’m some joke? I’ll show him.” He grabbed your jaw with his free hand. “You hear me?”

You nodded in his hand. “Terzo, my beloved, there’s nothing going on there! Please, believe me - ”

He pulled your hair back so you could see into his eyes. “I know bella mia, he’s just a prick. And he’s been making eyes at you. And how could he not - sei la più bella qui.” He relinquished the grasp on your hair, your hairline aching from his tight grip, and he swung your head back down to the marble. He continued fingering you from behind, pinning you down with his other arm to keep you from moving wildly by his frenzied, almost desperate touch. He kept looking towards the door. “Where’s your phone?” he asked.

You whined, barely able to utter another word.

“Your phone, your phone, principessa!” he urged.

You wanted to ask where his was but could only manage a few guttural moans and pointed to the floor, where your phone flew out of your habit moments earlier.

He bent down and picked it up to look at the lock screen, never breaking his rhythmic thrusts with his hand. He grunted and mumbled, “He knows better than to text you when I’m right here.” You leaned over to see 12:53 - seven more minutes until the next meeting was supposed to reconvene. “We can figure out how to kill time,” he said, finally easing up on you, now slowly entering you with just his index finger. “That’ll teach that stupido uomo ossessionato dai ratti not to covet what does not belong to him. Voglio assaporarti.”

Fuck, he really was going to one-up Copia.

He flipped you over so your back laid against the cool marble. He hovered over you and stared deep into your eyes as he slipped his gloved fingers out of you and into his mouth, moaning, tasting you. “Deliziosa,” he said. He slid two fingers back inside your dripping wet pussy, rolling his thumb over your clit. You grinded your hips against his hand, clutching the edge of the altar, hoping to hurry up your encounter before anyone else came back in. Small, wet sounds echoed along the stone walls.

You both glanced back at your phone - 12:55. The Cardinal was usually annoyingly early.

“Who makes you feel good?” he asked loudly.

“You do, Papa!” you screamed.

“Who do you belong to?” he demanded.

“You, Papa!”

“You would never leave me, not for him?” This last question sounded wounded, not a command. He broke your gaze briefly, looking at the floor, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He quickly flicked his eyes back to yours.

Why would he ask these questions? “Never my love,” you whispered, whimpering at his touch. Your clit quivered under his thumb, and your wet cunt contracted around his digits.

“Good girl.” He spread your legs apart, and ravished you with his tongue, flicking wildly around your clit and motioning a come-hither inside you with his index finger. You grabbed the sides of the altar in euphoria. Your body convulsed around him, your thighs wrapping around his neck. You lost control as your body tensed and released, Terzo moving expertly in rhythm with your hips, and you cried out in ecstasy, your ardent moans for your lover echoing through the chapel walls. Your arousal came flooding out of you, and Terzo latched his lips around your labia and sucked deeply, drinking you.

He gulped and chuckled, as he continued to finger you while he looked up. You followed his gaze to the front of the chapel, where Copia and several cardinals and bishops stood, mouths agape at the sight before them.

You quickly shoved him off you and pulled down your habit to cover yourself, but it was too late as they likely walked in just as you were wailing like an animal for your Papa.

“Are you quite finished?” one of the bishops asked, annoyed.

Copia was red in the face and glanced away as Terzo stared at him. He brought his arousal soaked fingers to his mouth again, exaggeratedly sucking them clean. “Oh sì, ho concluso il mio lavoro,” he said, answering the bishop but grinning at Copia, his face paint smeared around his mouth and chin.

You blushed, embarrassed; yet you tried to hide a grin yourself, because that was one of the most thrilling experiences of your life. You slid off the altar and stood beside Terzo, trying to conceal putting your underwear back on by standing behind his vestments. You held onto his shoulder for support, your legs shaking like mad.

Copia slowly made his way up the steps, papers and Unholy Book in hand, eyeing the altar where you just laid. You had left behind a small pool of your arousal - and probably some of Terzo’s saliva as well. “I see,” he muttered, a disgusted look on his face as he tried to find a clean surface to place his things. The remaining cardinals and bishops took their seats, eyeing Terzo with trepidation. It looked like everyone - Copia especially - had several words to say, but their place was beneath Papa.

Terzo grabbed you by the shoulders to whisk you away, and you both broke out into laughter as you made your way to the pews. As it was the Cardinal’s turn to lead this meeting, Terzo happily took his place in the second row pew, propping up his feet up on the back of the first row and leaning back contentedly with his hands behind his head. He proudly wore his smudged paint and the scent of you like a badge of honor. You took your place beside him, still stifling laughter.

Copia flipped through his Unholy Book, trying not to look at the two of you entwined in an embrace. Terzo kissed you on the temple, looking at Copia. “Cardinal, I know it must be hard for you to imagine such a passionate embrace, seeing as you’ve never pleased a woman…but this is how it’s done.”

Copia slammed his book shut and started to speak but suddenly fell silent. “Sister Imperator,” Copia said, bowing his head slightly in respect.

Imperator came entering the chapel and took her place a few rows behind you, on the opposite side of the aisle - almost as if to keep a close watch on you.

Terzo sank down into the pew, pulling up his robes to cover his face, as if that would make him invisible. You looked behind your shoulder, and caught a glimpse of her stern face.

What trouble would you be in now?

Italian to English Translations

- dio mio (my god)

- Cazzo (fuck)

- Sei mia (you’re mine)

- seducente (seductive)

- Sorella (Sister/Nun)

- Sei così futto bellissima (You are so fucking beautiful)

- Idiota (idiot)

- bella mia (my beauty)

- sei la più bella qui (you’re the prettiest here)

- principessa (princess)

- stupido uomo ossessionato dai ratti (stupid rat-obsessed man)

- Voglio assaporarti (I want to savor you)

- Deliziosa (delicious)

- Ho concluso il mio lavoro (I’ve finished my job)

[ourestcape]

hello first, this is inheet (my other account name) I can't post there anymore so I'll use this account from now on.

this is a short smut since I'm back again.

[TEASE]

WARN: Jay × fem reader. kinda messy lol. lots of error [since English is not my language] | smut, unprotected sex. Jay wants to be fuck by the reader, eating ***** and more😉

You only came to study with him for the impending test, but you couldn't help but look at him as he bit his lips.

he's handsome

In his condo, you two were. he's thinking the same thing

either he's fucking you or you fucking him.

you both take a seat on his bed. you only accept his invitation to visit his condo also you purposefully act in this way inviting him to fuck you

he continued to stare at you as his face drew nearer to try to touch your lips with his he softly kissed you, nibbling your neck, and yawning for more.

while he was licking your neck, leaving marks, you asked him, "Jay, what's your fantasy?"

"I want you to fuck me"

"really"

"You could say that," He said

"That's my fantasy."

"Have you relived that fantasy of yours?" His voice was full of curiosity. Shit. Why did he seem to be turned on at the thought of you doing that to him?

It shook its head. "nah. no girl has ever asked me what my fantasy is" He grinned wickedly. "It's you, so I should do the same to you."

his lips parted at the same time his cheeks warmed. But he immediately erased the embarrassment he felt

he would have all of you tonight

"I want to try it"

He froze and stared dumbfoundedly at you

He looked up into the air and took off all the remaining coverings. you're now naked you felt no shame

"Kneel in front of me" you whispered to jay before lying on the bed

"Okay." It was a short response before following your order

his face settled between your parted legs. his mouth was just a breath away from your mound. you could feel his hot breath hitting her womanhood

"My pleasure," he replied.

he opened your thigh even more at the same time he kissed your womanhood. when his tongue touched your clit, it felt so fucking good it felt so hot and sexy!

jay lapped your mound

"Ohhh, jay ah ah..." He tugged at you with one hand and buried his head further into your womanhood.

you were almost going crazy with the pleasure of him licking it

It felt so fucking good!

The feeling was inexplicably delicious. you craved more! and he was very grateful to go even faster

his tongue mixed with your juice. "Ahhh Oh, god...faster! More! Lick me more! Make it fast-Ohhh, shit."

His grunts almost filled the entire room he his moans became even louder

you felt as if something was going to explode inside. you meet every movement of his tongue. The taste of you is addictive

jay doesn't want to stop. he wants to eat you all day, non-stop

"Uhhhh... Uhm. Ahh, I'm about to cum" he buried his head into your womanhood. immediately sucked your p'ssy at the same time as your juice came out. "Oh god! heaven"

The shock on his face was obvious as he stood up he grabbed his manhood

"suck it," he said

"Gladly." you took his length inside your warm mouth

he moaned loudly as he thrust his manhood into your hot mouth. Then, as if teasing, you slowly took his length out in your mouth.

"Ohh! Fuck!"

you twirled your tongue around his stiff cock as you sucked it again

"Uhm." he groaned when you sucked his balls in your mouth. "Ohh, holy sweet hell! Ahh! Ahh! Suck my cock more"

It's like he's going crazy because he feels so good because of what you're doing. he was clinging to the bed sheet while one of his hands was tightly clinging to your hair

you feel that jay is close because his hips are moving that's why he quickly stopped what he was doing

"oh fuck, w-why did you stop"

you didn't answer. Instead, you quickly sat on his lap. you touched his c'ck and slowly guided it inside your core

his grunts mingled as you began to move you pumped in and out. slowly at first then your pace became fast. Hard. Fast. Rough. you could hear the sound of private parts lapping at each other which adds to the warmth you both feel

your movement is getting faster and faster. With each stroke, his length was full and he almost lost his breath from the sensation he was feeling

"Ohh! jay! I'm coming!"

He held both of your waists and guided her to speed up each in and out

"Ahh! Ahh! Ohh! I'm cumming" Loud moans and groans filled the room

and when you cum, jay came after you

still slowly trusting and moaning until he feels emptied inside you.

———

He is comfortably sleeping next to you when you wake up, hugging you

you gradually free yourself from his grip

you collected your clothes and put them on.

Before leaving his condo, you give him a forehead kiss.

[lambden]

2.9K words, explicit, geraskier/competence kink, no warnings. originally posted (anonymously) to ao3 here

Something pulls Geralt from his meditation early. He has no clue what it might have been; when he opens his eyes, the forest is pristine. Picturesque, even. He and Jaskier had set up camp along the actual path of the Path. Fearing that the cold mountains would greet them with a blizzard, Geralt had suggested last night that they might seek refuge in a narrow but deep canyon for safety.

Jaskier had pointed out that a blizzard was about as likely to happen as an avalanche, and that if the goddesses decided to bestow the latter disaster upon them, they’d be absolutely fucked between the high rock walls on either side of them.

The petty bickering of last night seems so trivial in the brisk morning air. The thin tarpaulin Geralt strung up over their bedrolls to shield them from snow was fine yesterday. Functional, if ugly. But now, dappled light from above makes the fabric glow, and the sparse patches of new snow beyond their camp sparkle like glitter. Everything looks beautiful in the dawn— or, not dawn, technically, since he slept in. 

Geralt strains his senses for threats and finds no distant monsters to flee; he only hears birdsong. He only sees beautiful nature. He inhales deeply, and the sharp scent of spilled blood hits him immediately before Jaskier stumbles back under the tarpaulin.

“Ah, joy, you’re finally up,” says Jaskier cheerfully. There are no obvious wounds on him and no blood visible on his clothing. If Geralt hadn’t been made to spot irregularities, perhaps he would have missed the sweat at Jaskier’s hairline. Melodious and irritating as ever, the man continues, “Can we pack up camp and start moving now? I’m beginning to understand why you always gripe when I sleep in.”

Geralt doesn’t mince words. “What happened?”

“No clue what you mean,” Jaskier sings. He scooches over to come and sit beside Geralt, resting his back against the mossy wall covered in small icicles of frozen dew. Geralt, unconvinced, leans over the bard’s lap to try to get a look at the side he’s hiding, and Jaskier sighs. “Shit. Alright, you— alright! It’s fine, Geralt, really! Just a spot of bother, nothing to write home about.”

Geralt’s glare makes it clear that he isn’t going to repeat his question.

“It’s not my blood,” tries Jaskier, which does come as a small relief, although it hardly puts Geralt’s panic to rest. “It… I had to piss, alright? So I climbed up out of the canyon, and, you know—” he does some truly reprehensible miming— “I was right in the middle when I heard this awful caterwauling coming from somewhere. I thought it was a dying bobcat or something, but… it was actually a few of them, you know. Shrieking and grunting back and forth.”

A chill runs down Geralt’s spine. He leans in slightly, nostrils flaring as he breathes the blood in once more. He should have clocked the scent for what it was: “Nekkers.”

“Yeah, a whole happy family.” Jaskier, sighing again, finally relents and shows Geralt the spray of blood along his side. True to his word, it isn’t human. It still makes the witcher unhappy. He settles back down into his own seat as his friend continues, “There must have been about eight of them.”

Suddenly the amount of blood seems like far, far too little. Geralt stares, and demands, “How are you not dead?”

“It’s a funny story, actually,” says Jaskier, sounding sheepish, of all things. “I’ve seen you fight those little shits before, so I sort of… I dunno, copied what you do. Minus the swordsmanship, and magic fire, and all that, of course.”

If his eyes were bulging out of his skull before, Geralt is sure he looks positively ridiculous now. He can’t rein in his expression or regulate his emotions, too shocked by Jaskier’s story. “You killed them?”

“What was I supposed to do, give them all names?”

“You killed eight nekkers?”

“It was a little hard to tell from the mangled bodies, but yes, I believe so.” Jaskier awkwardly clears his throat. His pulse races. “Geralt, you’re staring at me like you want to bite my head off.”

The witcher doesn’t blink. “I’ve never even seen you kill a fly.”

“Well, why would I kill a fly,” Jaskier is beginning to sound a little exasperated— then before either of them know it, Geralt is swinging a leg over his lap and straddling his thighs and pressing in close, and Jaskier’s voice rises at least an octave. “I— I have no intention of taking on contracts! It was just a minor inconvenience; I didn’t want to wake you from your meditation! You can be quite a cranky prick sometimes, you know. Are you going to teach me some demented lesson about safety by bashing my head in?”

“No,” he informs Jaskier plainly. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s a little difficult to think while I’ve got a lapful of witcher!”

Geralt reaches between them to untie the complicated drawstrings of Jaskier’s trousers. His fingers only still when he’s got the cords loose from their knots; he glances up to check in, his gaze meeting the bard’s. Jaskier’s pupils are blown wide and dark, and how his heartbeat raced before is nothing compared to now. The silence is live, the air simmering like a place of power, and Geralt’s question goes unspoken but is understood perfectly by both men.

Jaskier nods, a small, overwhelmed motion— his chin tips forward and his head bobs with it, his lovely hair falling in front of his pretty eyes. Geralt gently pushes the errant strands of hair back, and before Jaskier can properly recuperate from that first delicate touch, the witcher inelegantly and bluntly reaches to free the bard’s cock from his pants.

“Holy ploughing mother of cunt,” Jaskier breathes.

“Tell me what happened,” repeats Geralt, “in detail.”

“Right. Yes. The nekkers.” His fist closes around Jaskier’s length just under the thick flushed head; they watch together as liquid wells up at the tip. The broad pad of Geralt’s thumb brushes over the wetness and a new drop of pre-cum rises to take its place immediately. 

Sounding more winded than Geralt has ever heard him, Jaskier manages, “They weren’t trying to sneak up on me, actually, so I had an extra minute to prepare. If they got the jump on me I would have been fucked, but as it was I had the time to rifle through Roach’s saddlebags. And, by the way, Roach was massively unhelpful during the fight. Loyal companion, my arse. I suppose I should stop talking about your horse while you’ve got your hand round my cock!”

“Focus,” says Geralt, stroking Jaskier with firmer, slower motions. “How could you have known what to use?”

That question nets him a very unimpressed look, the effect of which is only slightly dampened by Jaskier’s obvious arousal. “I’ve been your local companion for quite a while now,” huffs the bard. “I do actually pay attention, some of the time. And it’s easy enough to tell Grapeshot apart from the other explosives!”

Geralt adjusts his position atop Jaskier’s lap, fist still moving slowly around his prick. “I only had two Grapeshots made,” he mutters. “And I’ve never taught you the recipe.”

“Two was all I needed.” More turned on than he’s ever been in his life, Geralt keeps his gaze pinned to Jaskier as he tells the story— and his hand firmly in place. “You— You kept a trophy from that nekker infestation a few contracts back, and I figured, you know, they follow some kind of h-hierarchy. So I held the nasty thing up right in front of my head, and I shrunk my shoulders down and hunched my back, and… well, I’m not going to do my impression of a monster growling right now, but needless to say they fell for it.”

“Hard to mistake you for a nekker.”

“They aren’t the brightest,” admits Jaskier. His heart beats faster from the compliment regardless; Geralt feels a thick vein pulsing under the soft side of his knuckles. He chases the feeling, dragging his fingers up and down the bard’s length curiously. “It wasn’t a long ruse, anyway— I just had to get them to follow my orders. Once they’d all lined up in a group, it was easy enough to sling the Grapeshots their way; like one of those prize games from a festival, you know? But right as I threw the bombs—”

Geralt’s prick strains against the codpiece in his armour. Unable to hide the raw edge of desperation in his hoarse voice, he demands, “You threw two bombs at once?”

“Yes,” Jaskier mumbles, a bit pink. “What, is that against the rules?”

Instead of offering his immediate response, which is that Geralt is damn lucky he ran into Jaskier before Lambert ever did because if his little brother heard a story like that then he would have married the bard long before the fall of Cintra, Geralt shakes his head dumbly, and gestures with his free hand for Jaskier to continue.

“Well, one of the buggers noticed what I was doing right before the bombs exploded— or maybe he noticed that his newly beloved queen bee was actually a beheaded, reanimated corpse— and, in any case, he wasn’t too happy. While I was shielding my eyes and ears from the explosions he ran right up to me, and tore the trophy out of my hands.” Jaskier mimes this part of the fight, too caught up in his own story to even pay proper attention to Geralt jerking him off. His passion is beyond endearing. “But unfortunately for him, I had my trusty dagger.”

Geralt can’t help it— before he can restrain the sound, he snorts. “The paring knife you use to cut up Roach’s apples?”

“Yes,” huffs Jaskier. “I made do with what I had, alright? Time moves at a normal speed for us humans, you know, even during battle, so I didn’t have a moment to prepare. I just—” he thrusts his hand forward, miming gutting— “in and out, boom, done. Before I knew it, I had stabbed him in the eye. And he let out the most horrible sound, really, I’m surprised it didn’t wake you up!”

“You stabbed it in the eye,” Geralt repeats, dizzy.

“Yes…?”

“Right.” He finally lets go of the bard’s prick, rolling off his thighs. Jaskier watches with hooded, puzzled eyes that quickly widen as Geralt removes the lower half of his armour as quickly as he can. When he reaches back between his legs to shove two blunt, dry fingers into himself, the bard lets out a squeak not unlike a lutestring snapping. Geralt pants, “Tell me again.”

“Tell— tell you— wh-what exactly,” stammers the professional wordsmith. It only gets worse as Geralt takes hold of his prick once more. Jaskier’s cock is hard, standing at attention, and leaking everywhere; Geralt smears the pre-cum over its flushed, angry head. “Gods, fuck, Geralt—”

“Tell me the story again,” Geralt demands. “While I ride you.”

“I’m afraid I won’t last past the inciting incident— oh,” cries Jaskier. Geralt slides down onto him slowly, letting them both feel the tightness, and the lack of proper preparation. Geralt doesn’t care if the stretch is bordering on the edge of pain; he likes the weight inside him. It grounds him. Jaskier’s breath comes in quick, shallow puffs while Geralt inhales and exhales deeply through his nose, the same way he would after taking Killer Whale to dive to the bottom of the ocean. This isn’t too dissimilar from that— except that Killer Whale doesn’t usually make his prick hard as a whetstone.

Geralt sinks down to the very bottom of the sea. Once he’s fully seated on Jaskier’s cock, he can feel the length of it inside his arse, filling him completely. He can even feel Jaskier’s thudding heart under his hands, and echoing through the air, and pulsing deep inside him— almost in the right spot, but not quite.

The witcher places a broad hand on each of Jaskier’s shaking shoulders and uses them as leverage to pull himself up, slowly but firmly gripping onto the cock inside him as he does. Then, right as Jaskier’s cockhead is about to breach him once more, Geralt slides back down in one fluid motion. And rises to do it again. And again.

Jaskier’s grip on his hips is viselike; if Geralt was human, he might bruise. The thought allures him so he encourages the touch, tightening his own grip on the man’s shoulders as he fucks himself on Jaskier’s cock. Every time the bard opens his mouth to undoubtedly let out some irreverent prayer or curse or expression of disbelief, an incomprehensible litany of moans and other dirty sounds escapes him instead. He practically sobs when Geralt adjusts their position, bending his knees on either side of Jaskier so as to ride his cock more efficiently. With each new roll of their hips it seems to strike deeper and deeper inside Geralt. Then one of Jaskier’s hands quests around his backside to press them into a new, closer position, and the new angle has Geralt seeing stars, and suddenly he’s the one making all sorts of embarrassing noises.

“Good, that’s perfect, darling,” Jaskier, though breathless, takes the time to praise him carefully. This almost makes Geralt groan deeper than the pressure inside him. “You’re doing so good for me. Had I known this was my reward coming back from the hunt, I wouldn’t’ve wasted any time with those ugly monsters.”

“How did you know about the— the hierarchies, the family structures— that they follow a chieftain,” pants Geralt, his sweaty hair falling forward in front of his eyes. “You’re not even a witcher.” Jaskier quickly reaches up to brush it back, then holds it in a loose fist, which is, as it turns out, perfect. The hand on his scalp is just enough to ground him, and when Jaskier uses his grip to pull Geralt in closer, he doesn’t resist at all.

“Well,” Jaskier practically purrs against his lips, somehow managing to be smug even as he bounces Geralt on his cock. “It wasn’t that hard.”

Geralt surprises them both by coming all over Jaskier’s abdomen, and as his body tenses the bard follows him over the edge a moment later, arching up into him and filling him with his release. The two eruptions happen in such quick succession that they feed into each other, and it’s all Geralt can do to avoid clinging to Jaskier hard enough to hurt him. Jaskier presses against Geralt with the same fervour, kissing him almost violently; Geralt gives as good as he gets, sinking into the sensation.

When they pull away from each other’s mouths, Jaskier’s lips are bitten red and wet with spit. Geralt moves slightly and feels the odd but familiar heat shift inside him; judging from how Jaskier’s mouth falls open, he feels it too. Even after the aftershocks fade, Geralt doesn’t pull off just yet, enjoying the fullness and closeness. He bends down to kiss Jaskier again, and the bard reciprocates easily and readily. 

All those years bickering over petty, pointless nothings, when they could have been doing this instead.

“The next time there’s a monster, wake me up,” Geralt finally reproaches, punctuating the order by nipping Jaskier’s lip.

Jaskier nods, sluggish and satiated; then, because it’s Jaskier, he tacks on, “I handled it, though.”

“You got away with it this time, but you could have been in danger.”

“You like that I handled it,” accuses the bard. Geralt kisses the smirk off his face but can’t kiss away that smug edge in his voice. “You like that I can handle myself… and handle you, too.”

“As I recall, I handled you,” Geralt says. Jaskier laughs; it still sounds smug. The witcher hums thoughtfully.

He then rolls them over without warning, and ignores the resulting cry from his bard. He lowers his back onto Jaskier’s bedroll— like hell he’s staining his own bedroll with cum— and hooks his ankles around the man’s back, pushing Jaskier deeper inside. They both groan at that, and Jaskier lowers himself down without hesitation to loom over Geralt. “Shit,” he whines, bottomed out entirely inside the witcher again. “Fuck, how are you hard again?!”

“Takes a lot to tire me out,” grins Geralt. Truth be told, he doesn’t usually want this much— but Jaskier is having an unexpected effect on him. “You said you could handle me.”

“Might be the death of me, but I’ll certainly try,” huffs Jaskier. He holds Geralt up by his thighs and slowly pistons back and forth into him, pushing the load of cum already inside him even deeper. But he pauses as an idea strikes. Divine inspiration, or a gift from the muses; Jaskier talks about the concepts all the time, but Geralt hasn’t seen them really occur before. It is like glancing at the night sky and catching a comet. The man’s entire face lights up, and his tone is new as he says, “You know, I never told you about the one winter we had a pest infestation at Oxenfurt.”

Suddenly, Geralt knows precisely what he means. Trying to sit up, he protests, “You swore to me you won those extra vials of arachas venom in a game of Gwent!”

“I’m shit at Gwent, you should have seen right through that,” Jaskier laughs. He leans down, pressing Geralt back down against the mat and rocking his hips to push his length in deeper. “But the good part is that now I can tell you the whole story. In painstaking detail.”

“Oh,” breathes Geralt, quickly surrendering his anger and spreading his legs. His cock dribbles pre-cum between them. “... Yes, alright. Tell me the tale, Jaskier.”

[clonebrainrot]

Aftermath Season 1 episode 1 rewatch

A live reaction

The bad batch aftermath

So we begin

I completely forgot that they had a clone wars intro for this

Ah Kanan sounding like a 40 year old man

And here they come!

Ah POV shot my beloved

God they are so badass

God I am already getting emotional over fucking nothing lol

Tech no you can’t say the C-word

You gotta appreciate all these battles where they are working together it only happens like 3 times in the entire show

God captain grey sucks

lol Tech doesn’t even look up from his data pad when he is introduced by Kanan. He is literally me.

Any orders or shall we do what we do? God what a great line

Oh yay! Order 66!

And everything continued to go down hill from this point onward

smh rebels was contradicted in rebels he said her last words were run not Caleb! I can’t believe they would get this wrong. My day is ruined

Also I am literally just writing all my thoughts out as they happen I’ll have a lot more succinct post later.

Even this early I cannot get over how good the animation looks

You have orders from the chancellor? Wrecker doesn’t give a shit lol

Hunter saw Kanan and he wanted to adopt him immediately

Crosshair is an amazing shot anytime he isn’t shooting a good guy. Then he misses a lot. Although you can argue that he is subconsciously resisting the order if you want

Poor Hunter he is trying his best to

God I am so tempted to writer a the bad batch protests Kanan fic. I think Omega and Kanan would have such a fun dynamic.

God the scenery shots all look gorgeous I wish I knew how to take screenshots of Disney plus or else I would show you

I forgot how often Tech talked. I don’t know why

Remember when people said the dead Jedi here was shaak ti? Cause that made no sense. She literally has a green hand.

Also every line of dialogue between Tech and Wrecker is just hilarious

“Oh they seem the same to me” I love you tech

My exceptional mind! Another great line

Info dump more Tech I will enjoy every piece of dialogue you give me

First appearance of Omega!

Interestingly Omega notices when Hunter looks up at her. Hmm makes one think doesn’t it. Tap this one down as the first of “omega is force sensitive” (I won’t let this theory die”

There she is. She is just the best.

Also Omega has the worst haircut ever.

I love all of Omega’s weird little waves. She’s so socially awkward sometimes I love that about her.

Oh boy. Tarkin here he comes to ruin the day

lol the Kaminoasn really are like “bitch what are you talking about”

Oh my man soup clone is gonna steal the scene

I like to blow things up because I like to blow things up. You always know your ways with words tech

I can’t get over how horrible omega’s haircut looks it is so bad

Soup clone or should I say CX2!

I love that this food fight is a regular occurrence

Regular clone coming in With a metal tray!

I wish they had done more with Echo’s PTSD

I will leave you to process the shock of this revelation

Maybe this empire thing isn’t so bad after all (it was)

I just realized what happened to Lama Su? He just dipped out of the shows lol

And wrecker is shot for the first time. First of many. I think it might be four total. Wrecker takes an absolute beating throughout the show

What we did on Felucia. Well now I need a whole show about that

Tech riding the proto dark troopers is such a video game moment

I completely forgot how little Omega is in this first episode until like well over half way through

Crosshair’s knife shot may be my favorite of the entire show.

Ah the fetus room my favorite one on Kamino

I completely forgot Tarkin has met Omega.

Squad does not make a squadron. I thought squadron was just for aircraft and naval vessels? I know this is a nitpick and doesn’t really matter but it stood out

I love how Hunter always goes to Omega’s eye level. I love that about him.

Oh oh! Oh no! Kid you aren’t a soldier. Damnit I am crying now. She grew up to be a soldier! Ah I hate it I am going to bawl my eyes out for the rest of the episode

Saw you complicated man. I don’t hate you like some, but you always go about it the wrong way you drove so many people away you indirectly killed one of the brightest minds on Star Wars, but your heart was in the right place. It’s just how you fight. That’s what is important

I love how Tech knows who Saw is on sight. He knows literally everything I love that about him

Saw also does it. He gets to eye level when talking to children. I love this detail. Not talking down always talking directly.

Crosshair always the contrarian with “not that you know of”

Wait how did Tech know about the conversation with Tarkin where he talks about the five clones. He wasn’t there. There are a few instances throughout the show where characters know things they really shouldn’t

Someone is coming we need to go. That’s two strikes for force sensitive omega (again not letting this die)

God the wide shots on this show are stunning

Do you think it’s a problem that I can recognize all the trailer shots as they appear? lol

Strike 3 for Omega being force sensitive. Although this one you can excuse as just her knowing about the inhibitor chip. There is one that will be coming up that you can’t read as anything other than force sensitive IMO

Oh did I ever tell you how when I first saw Omega in the trailer I thought she was a boy lol.

I love Omega copying her brothers it’s so cute

I can’t get over how bad her hair is. I hate her original hair style. It’s just so bad lol

God even in this episode so early the music is absolutely banging.

Omega knows crosshair is coming before he actually comes. And then she’ll make this amazing shot. Omega is force sensitive. Nothing says she isn’t in the show. And so I will go to my grave believing it. Canon be damned

Also why is the Coruscant guard on Kamino? What happened to the gray colored Kamino police clones?

That’s a second shot for wrecker. Dude just keeps getting beaten the shit out of. Already planting the seeds for that inhibitor chip activating later

And there is the shot. Followed by shots that go completely off the mark. Makes one think doesn’t it…

Also Nala Se you sneaky sneaky. I hate you for fives and also love you for helping Omega in the end.

So begins Omega’s adventure. And so begins the beginning of the end for theirs

Next stop Cut Lawquane

God I am excited to go through these episodes. It’s like it’s starting all over again even If I have watched this show a collective 4 times lol.

[bunglegaydogs]

bsd ep 61 spoilers fr xoxo

so uh

that was a fucking wild ride

and it was only 30 seconds long

i have a couple of things to say on this subject

i also cant feel my hands from the cold so im dreading how long its actually gonna take me to write this post

ANYWAYS

Obvious spoilers for episode 61 preview!!!

~~~

So, my first thing was that Aya looks much happier in the anime than the manga lol. I don't know why this is important to me but I felt as if I should say it, because I don't know what exactly her plan is? But it's almost as if there's not a chance of her falling to her death involved in this little stunt that she's pulling.

Anyways.

Next thing to note is that she's clearly intending to land on something - and I saw a post just before that said maybe she misses the table and lands on Atsushi and Aku instead and in turn saves Atsushi from becoming a vampire. Which I do think is plausible - because if I've learned anything from this fucking series it's that if you expect something to happen after a certain thing happens, don't, you're wrong. Don't expect what you're expecting. It will be something completely out of left field that you get slapped across the fucking face with like a chilled fish bro that shit stings from the iciness.

Next, of course, Atsushi and Aku. Now, I don't think that Atsushi's going to become a vampire - it seems pretty long-winded now, plus where would the story go after that? Him and Aku just sit there and stare lifelessly at each other whilst Aya falls from the building? I think, maybe, Aku will see Aya falling, and his instinct will be to save her, because he's been keeping his promise to Atsushi, and maybe he recognises that if she falls and dies, it's "his fault" (it obviously won't be, but by means of association, the fact that he put her up there, he's like damn my bad fr) and go to save her, dropping Atsushi and obviously going to her, but I don't know, maybe that's not plausible at all.

Also, Atsushi is awake here??? Hello? Atsushi wasn't originally awake. Plus, Aku has that bitch hanging by Rashoumon - how has he gotten him awake and why's he pulled him closer? Anyways lol.

Next, FUCKING FYODOR AND NIKOLAI.

So, when I saw the split second of Fyodor, I actually almost did scream this time. Because I immediately recognised that he was in a vehicle of some kind. I, at first, thought that it was a van or a car, but someone else pointed out that it could have been a helicopter.

Ah, okay, looking back on the scene, that lowkey seems plausible.

For Nikolai.

Nikolai's hair is blowing in the wind. So either he's outside and it's windy, or he's in a helicopter or something. But Fyodor's scene looks pretty still. His hair isn't moving, the scenery outside is staying the same. It looks like a sky.

Behind Nikolai, it actually looks like a wall of some kind. Maybe a gate pillar thing. What if he's waiting outside Meursault, and sees Dazai and Chuuya coming out? I don't know.

Disregarding that theory, my guess is they're just trying to trick us into thinking that Nikolai is reacting that way because of Fyodor, or something he said, or him escaping, but I think that they're just two completely different scenes set at the same time maybe? I really don't know. I also don't know what Nikolai could have seen or heard for him to be shocked after smiling, I don't know.

Anyway, Fyodor is looking rather smug. No blood on him. And I don't really know, but we can't see his shoulder properly, but from what we CAN see, there's no wound or blood from where Sigma shot him. BUT that might be unimportant because I don't think Sigma actually shot him in the anime like he did in the manga. Just grazed him. Anyways.

He's looking fantastic for supposedly having just escaped Meursault after nearly drowning, burning his hand, getting shot in the shoulder, AND being covered in blood from where he'd just shot the time manipulator ability user.

He's clearly explaining something.

Also, is it weird if I say that he looks eerily similar to Mori here? Because I can't lie, he's looking an awful lot like him - more than he usually does. Violet eyes, long black hair, manipulative, etc. I don't know. It's also... is it an expression we see on Fyodor a lot? It seems... different. Off. What if this motherfucker's actually just Mori in disguise? LMAO Imagine I'd piss.

See, because, Nikolai isn't a happy surprised, or mildly amused. He just looks... shocked. I don't know.

I'm really looking into this sorry lol.

His hair's a bit messier than usual. Which, you know, valid, considering what's just happened. But... everything else is fine. No blood, no wounds, no anything. He's normal. So why is his hair a bit messier? Is it important or am I just looking too much into it? Maybe he was in a helicopter with Nikolai, or in a windy place. Also, just skimmed through episode 10, ignore me about the blood, he's apparently already wiped it off after he shot the bitch lol okay Mr. fucking hygiene.

Anyways, yeah, his shoulder has a rip in the shirt. I know we can barely see his shoulder in the clip we've been gifted with, but the rip is pretty high up. And, even after having a pretend mental breakdown, being drowned almost, getting shot, etc. Even after all of that, his hair does not look messy. WHY IS THIS SO IMPORTANT TO ME, I DON'T KNOW. I LOOK FOR THE SMALL THINGS I'M SORRY.

There's going to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this and I'm just chatting shit.

Anyways.

I don't actually know what the fuck is happening here. I really don't. I'm just clutching at straws to preserve what little of my sanity Bungou Stray Dogs has left me with. I don't know. The way Fyodor is talking and just his expression doesn't sit right with me. It feels more like the way Dazai and Mori sometimes talk when they like know that they're right or explaining something or predicting or something, do you get what I mean? No? Okay. LMAO.

So, my next thing is of course the two fucking Fuku's because I lowkey wanted to scream when I saw Fukuzawa was not dead. I'm glad we have that confirmation - can I ask where the fuck the 'One Order' has gone though? Because Fukuchi's not holding onto it anymore. His arms bleeding. His neck is pouring with blood (fresh wound), but from what? Fukuzawa hasn't even took the sword out of him yet. How has he gotten sliced up already? He doesn't have any weapons on him. Neither does Fukuzawa. And, to me, it looks like Fukuzawa's just stood up or something.

And Fukuchi's reaching for something.

He's reaching out for something, and Fukuzawa has his back on him. Fukuchi looks enraged before he leaps at Fukuzawa, hand outstretched, maybe to grab Amenogozen, maybe not. But Fukuzawa is alarmed, and turns around, ripping the sword out of his fucking abdomen.

I don't know. The way Fukuchi ran towards him seemed... desperate. He seems like he's losing. His last resort. I don't know. It's just not very Fukuchi to charge towards him so clumsily and try and grab something the way he tries.

And again, why is Fukuchi's arm bleeding, and why is he sporting a rather Aku-type injury on his neck? Because it certainly seems that it wasn't Fukuzawa who caused that - he had his back turned and the only weapon he has is currently wedged deep inside of his stomach. Maybe it was Tecchour from afar. Maybe it was Tachihara manipulating metal. Maybe it was Kyouka. Maybe it was Yosano. Who knows. Maybe it was Fukuzawa.

Right okay so I've just skimmed through the episode again and Fukuzawa doesn't even have the fucking sword inside of him to begin with, so half of my rambling there has been rendered useless lol.

Anyways, and more importantly, where the fuck is 'One Order'?

It's no longer in Fukuchi's hand or ear. What the fuck?

His cape is missing. One Order is missing. Fukuzawa has somehow acquired a sword through his abdomen. Fukuchi is injured from his neck and arm. He's angry. Fukuzawa had his back turned. Fukuchi seems desperate for something.

Man, this is like a fucking riddle.

So, yes. Fukuzawa (quite easily, actually) rips Amenogozen out of himself and makes to swing for Fukuchi, who is without any weapons, injured, angry, and seemingly desperate.

Fuck, the sakura petals and the implication of Fukuzawa using Fukuchi's own sword to kill him, after fighting with him so many times oh my GOD I could get more into this but I won't, I won't. (Maybe later fr)

He seems pretty determined, dead-set on slashing this bitch. However, he becomes shocked at something, and not just a normal shock. That's an "Oh, fuck." shock. Then, it cuts to Fukuchi fucking smiling.

Smiling and reaching a hand out to Fukuzawa. We don't see his eyes. We only see his smile. A portion of his hand. The sakura petals. AAAA I'm so fucking sick.

Then, of course. We get a flashback. They're fighting. And for just a split second, you can see a smile on Fukuzawas face. Literally such a minuscule fucking thing.

And then it cuts to them now. And I don't mean now as in, middle of battle now, nor do I mean prior to their fight now. I mean, now. I don't know where now is or how it came to be, but they're obviously in their current attire. And you can see the wound on Fukuzawa's back. You can literally see it. So, whether they both die and this is some sort of heaven sequence, or something happens and they clash inside Amenogozen, and time is slowed or something, I don't know.

Does a sword count as a subordinate to Fukuzawa? Because if so, he can utilize that sword and manipulate it to his heart's content.

Anyways, it's peaceful. There's two cups of tea on a bench ahead of them. There's a fuzzy sort of outline to everything, maybe trying to make us assume that it's a flashback, when it is, in actuality, not. Unless, they've had a fight very similar to this one, in the same attire, but at a different time (obviously) and it wasn't fatal (again, obviously).

Now, this was honestly just me trying to put the preview in order in my head and I thought other people might like to read my thoughts lol.

Long story short, there was a lot to unpack here, and I think a lot of hidden meanings and misdirections, trying to make us think one thing but in fact it's going another way.

Anyways, have a lovely day/night! Thank you for reading ^^

(Wow, I did not mention Soukoku or Chuuya and Dazai ONCE in this post (shush I mentioned Dazai before that doesn't count) and yes I am hoping that they showed us nothing in this preview because they're fine and safe and going to pull something off and be very surprising but we can only dream and fuck I'm dreaming so hard I'm DELUSIONAL bro)

[detectivecarisi-1]

The Senator’s Daughter: Chapter 1 (BodyGuard! Dave York x Female Reader

AN: AHHHH! It’s finally here! I am so sorry it took as long as it did, and honestly I wanted to make this chapter longer, but it would’ve taken me like... 2 more weeks to get it to the length I wanted it to be. So, I decided I have kept you waiting long enough and to just publish it as it is. Again, if you already read my mini update this is redundant, but if not I will say again; I am a full time teacher, at the middle school level at that, so time is not really on my side with most things haha, so it may take me a while to get these chapters posted, but trust that they will be posted! Thank you all for reading, and thank you for your patience! -M 

Rating: M for language. Future chapters WILL BE EXPLICIT, 18+ ONLY 

Word Count: 1.9K

Series Warnings: Language, Eventual Smut (18+ ONLY FOR THE WHOLE SERIES), AFAB!Reader, No use of Y/N, Divergence from Canon, Mean Dom!Dave York, Bratty!Reader, AGE GAP (reader is of age!), Enemies to Lovers, Mentions of Drug/Alcohol Abuse, Politics lol, Minor violence, mentions of parental abuse. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Jesus Christ.

Whoever’s bright idea it was to make ABBA your godforsaken alarm should be lined up, and swiftly kicked in the shins.

Nothing is more frustrating than being hungover, feeling half dead, honestly waking up still drunk, and then “Man After Midnight” starts blasting these fucking rodeo beats in your ear.

Great song, terrible decision.

Honestly, it probably was your decision. The decision you made when you were trying to turn your life around for the… probably thousandth time. You most likely thought you would hear that song blasting in the morning, and immediately the adrenaline would start pumping, and you’d feel driven to get up and go for a 7 mile jog along the beach, come home make some smoothie that’s more kale than anything else, maybe go get that degree your dad’s always been begging you to do, and be driven to never, ever touch a drop of alcohol ever again. And yet, that plan never worked. And here you are, listening to Swedish Pop icons ABBA, questioning whether or not you had died, and ended up in some weird 8th circle of hell.

Honestly, that’d probably would’ve been better.

Fuck. The sun is too fucking bright, ABBA is too fucking loud, you’re too fucking nauseous, everything is too fucking much. You try to fumble over to your phone, switch that shit off, crawl under the comforter that you know is way too expensive, and sleep until the evening and its time to go back out. You’re halfway through figuring out how to hit the off button on this brand-new iPhone, counting down the moments till you’re finally able to know peace and try to sleep off this massive hangover that’s dragging you through the mud by your big toes. But before you can even start to consider that option, the door to your bedroom slams open.

“Get up. We need to talk.”

Ah, those glorious words no one ever wants to hear. Especially not delivered to you from your father of all people.

Till Leland was a rising star in the world of politics. Hailing from Northern Virginia, Till was destined from public service from the very beginning. His father, a well-known lawyer taught him the importance of argumentation skills and logic. His mother was a 11th grade environmental science teacher known for her work in the community establishing parks, teaching her students oyster shell recycling, and creating a community garden for all those who may need access to fresh fruits and vegetables. To say Till was raised by the best people put on this Earth, would be a huge understatement. Your grandparents are truly, the most incredible human beings around. Passionate about education, well-known philanthropists, and outspoken activists. More importantly, they were loving and devoted parents.

They truly raised an amazing child. Till Leland was everything they were and more. Growing up he was a constant straight A student who stayed after class to help tutor other students in math and science. He loved the environment and would often spend weekends organizing groups to help collect litter on the school campus. One spring break to Virginia Beach, Till spent a full day walking the coastline collecting empty beer cans and half smoked joints and cigarettes. He was always the designated driver, never got in trouble with his teachers, and was active in the school debate team. When it was time for him to choose a college, despite the credentials to get into any Ivy League he could, he chose Virginia Tech. He loved Virginia. Even with all its flaws, he just saw it as an opportunity for him to be the one to fix them. So, he studied political science, got a his master’s, ran for city council got elected. Slowly but surely, he worked his way up to the Senate level. He has done so much good for the state. And the people love him. The only thing that could possibly destroy his political career, is unfortunately the thing he loves most, and the one thing he can’t control.

You.

And yet, even though you had this penchant for living the opposite life your father pursued, he was still an incredible, kind, and loving father. There was not a single event he ever missed of yours, even with his busy schedule as a politician. He attended every ballet recital, every chorus concert, even the tennis games where you were mostly the ball girl. He wanted to see you shine, and he supported you in every role you took on. To this day, he has a box in his office full of shitty art projects, report cards, and handmade birthday cards you gifted him. He takes his role as a father seriously, and you are truly the light of his life. And honestly, you have a shitty way of showing it, that sentiment is mutual.

“Dad, I want nothing more than to get up, but I feel like I’ve been beat with a hammer. I think I’ll just stay here.” Your voice is muffled by the pillow, you still refuse to even lift your head.

“Honey… I really need you to get up”

Oh shit.

You can’t explain it to anyone but yourself… but his tone is off. He’s mad. He’s just short of a boil, he is simmering. He is one wrong move from blowing up. You start trying to replay the past 24 hours in your head. What happened? Why is he so pissed?

Try as you may, you can’t remember a goddamn thing.

How did you even get home? You can tell your still in the dress you went out in last night. Kicking your legs around, you eventually hit the absurdly high heels you went out in that must’ve slipped off in the middle of the night… in your bed. Great. And based on the smudged eyeliner and red lipstick on your white silk pillowcase… You came home and immediately collapsed in bed.

“I’m not repeating myself. Get. Up.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him this mad. Alrighty, you guess now is the time to face the music.

You sit up and see your dad. His face a cracking mask of neutrality, you can see that simmer rapidly approaching a boil. He’s already dressed in a crisp white dress shirt with a blue tie perfectly tied around his neck, his beige pants are steamed so well they barely even look real. And here you are… looking like an extra in an early Ke$ha music video.

You’re doing your best for your eyes to adjust, but honestly the room is spinning way too fast, and your focus is divided between not throwing up on yourself and listening to whatever nuclear bomb your dad is about to drop on you. 

“What’s up, doc?” are… are your words still slurring? You had tried to crack a joke to lighten the very tense mood that is only getting worse and worse in your room… but all that had done was show your dad just how fucked up you really are.

“Honey. Get dressed. Come downstairs. We need to talk.” He turns to leave. No joking, no nonsense, no arguments. 

“Dad, I want nothing more than to join you downstairs… but if I move, even an inch right now, I guarantee you I’m going to vomit all over these new sheets. And I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want to make Ann clean that up.” Its true. The maid is a lovely woman who has put up with your shenanigans long enough. 

“Fine. We’ll talk up here. Embarrass yourself, honestly at this point I don’t give a shit.” He turns quickly on his heels, and before you can even consider changing your mind, he’s yelling down the staircase. “Mr. York, come join us up here. You can get an early firsthand experience on what I mean.”

What? What is that even supposed to mean? Who the fuck is Mr. York, what in the world has your dad so fucking pissed, firsthand experience of what, and again, who the fuck is Mr. York?

You’re going through all these questions and possible answers in your head, making you even dizzier than you were before. The room is spinning faster and faster, your stomach starts to churn, you get that familiar taste in the back of your throat, and of course, right as the mysterious Mr. York is entering your room you’re lunging for the trashcan conveniently placed by your bed and vomiting. 

Tequila. Its always tequila. 

“Fuck… I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry.” You start crying like a child. Throwing up always does this to you. It’s disgusting, and it’s embarrassing even when you’re on your own, let alone with an audience of your father and some random man standing in your room… offering you a handkerchief?

 You, once again, refuse to even look up. Choosing to keep your head shoved in the trashcan, but out in the peripherals of your vision, you see a hand, reaching out your direction, holding a white piece of cloth. “D.Y” embroidered on the corner”

“No, I can’t take that.. It’ll get ruined.” You sound fucking pathetic. Slurred words made even worse by the tears.

“Miss, just take it.”

Woah. 

If you weren’t so far gone, his voice alone probably could’ve sobered you up in an instant. It was beautiful. Deep, smooth, yet with a slight rasp that was just so… sexy. 

With trembling hands, you reached out, taking the handkerchief, you swear, at one point your fingers touch his, you swear, or maybe, its just wishful thinking. Nonetheless, you finally get a look at this Mr. York. 

You’re not sure what you expected, but Lord knows its not what you got. 

Oh no. 

He’s hot. 

He is composed, perfectly dressed in a suit, now only missing a pocket square. His expression is hardened, bordering on annoyed, but still, you somehow still think he looks soft. It’s the eyes… it’s got to be those perfect, brown eyes. He’s just… perfect? 

As if you weren’t embarrassed enough. Here is this man, the image of calm, put together, and devastatingly handsome, and here you are, laying in bed, still drunk, throwing up in a trashcan. Definitely not your best moment. 

You sit there, for who knows how long, staring at Mr. York. While he returns to his initial spot by the door, and then begins staring at the wall behind you as if you don’t even exist. 

“Sweetheart… are you okay?” 

Oh, right. Your dad is in the room with you. 

Before you can even begin to form some way to avoid saying “Yeah, dad, I’m fine. Just still fucked up from my night out last night that I barely remember, and while dealing with the most horrible hangover I’ve had in years my dad bursts into my room pissed off at me for reasons I don’t even know, before he calls in the most attractive man I’ve seen in my entire fucking life right before I ruin any chance I may have had with him by vomiting into a trashcan right in front of him” or, you know, something along those lines, Mr. York saves your ass for you. 

“Maybe it may be a good idea for Miss Leland to take a moment to clean herself up before we discuss more serious matters?” 

God, there is a lot you’d like to discuss with this man. 

“That would be an incredible idea, Mr. York,” your dad is beaming at the man like he just solved world hunger, he turns to you and that grin falls immediately, “You. Shower. Sober up. Come downstairs. This is serious.” 

“Sir, yes, sir.”

[go-to-the-mirror]

i dont want to talk about scrutiny

WHATEVER, FINE, OKAY, WE'RE DOING SCRUTINY, OR SOMETHING, FINE, WHATEVER, WHAT EVER

i love scrutiny, i do, but in the way that i love threshold, and nothing beside remains, and seeing it through, and a guest for mr spider. meaning I really do, but I also hate it with vitriol. Not really? It's complicated. I have Some Feelings Towards it. Yep. Look this podcast makes me feel happiness and sadness and anger at the same bloody time, but it's all confused because it's overridden by being Very ADHD about it, so like, they're all rattling around in there. I hate it (affectionate), I love it (derogatory), you get it?

Anyway, y'all know how I feel about Jon already, and if you don't, it's love and only love, so uhm, yeah, let's just get on with it already, rambling and mostly rambling, attempts to set aside my undying love for the Jarchivist for like a day, etc.

@a-mag-a-day

Firstly, I'd like to draw attention to the posts I made on my instagram story about this when I was first listening to TMA, because I was Not Alright.

The first was highlighting the description of the episode: "Statement of an unknown bystander, regarding an encounter with The Archivist." "The Archivist." Not "Jonathan Sims," not "Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London," not even "Jonathan Sims, The Archivist."

Just... The Archivist.

The second was regarding the first, saying that I knew it was deserved but he should be allowed to eat a few fears. As a treat.

I didn't say anything to my partner (who you should follow by the way, they're scarandjoelenthusiast), cause I think I was still attempting to be spoiler free for vex at that point, lol. And I had no other... friends. At all. Um. Yeah.

So, onto the relisten! Oh boy.

MARTIN Ah, alright, did he... did he look like he hadn't slept in about a week?

I absolutely love that Jon's descriptors are looking like shit, and looking like Jesus. That's just amazing.

Also uh,,, why did Martin immediately go to Jon? Hm..

Everything, every bit of light or sound or, or anything that changed, that said time was passing. There was nothing. Before that I never really thought about time, you know? But now… Yeah.

that must have been terrifying

So, it, it took a long time to get over that. I mean, that’s not weird, right? I me— It was a bad time. You know, it, it stays with you. Was signed off, what, I think about six months with the injuries. Had pretty bad, uh, nightmares, claustrophobia, I mean, obviously, right? But, uh, but, but I did my physio, and, you know, talked, talked with the counsellor they gave me. Look, I did everything I was supposed to and, and yeah, I… I guess I was fine. You know, once the bruises were gone I— Well, it’s easy to blame memory, right? You know, ha-hallucination, coincidence, all the classic shite you tell yourself. Life went back to normal. I— I was fine. Until about two weeks ago.

Jesus fucking christ, Jon. She was fine, trying to get over it, Floyd was fine and that's just it, because they think they're safe, and-

She was fine, she was okay, and he took that from her, he took that from her, he made it so she couldn't be fine anymore, he made it so every god. damn. night she'd experience that again, the bastard.

There’s this creep in, in the corner. Your guy. He just… keeps staring at me, like, like properly staring. Like, it is super intense and, and real weird. Like he knows me, but I sure as hell do not know him. I— I try to ignore him, look, I just, I just read my book, and every time I look up there he is, watching me.

Girls when they realise oh yes, he's an avatar.

So… Look, I’m packing up, all done and, and I just, I just sorta turn, you know, just, just to check if he’s still there and he is standing right behind— Like, like a few inches from my face. Look, it’s messed up!

That's??? Terrifying?? I mean, look, like, my sisters jump whenever I quietly stand behind them and stare intently, and they're my sisters, they know me, they know I only joke about stabbing them with a knife, Jon, that's freaky, stop being freaky, you have trauma at home. Go eat a stale trauma for gods sake.

Like, okay Mr. "I don't think it's me doing it." Who sat at a bloody coffee shop for an hour.

I. Understand. That there is a certain. Need. To cause and feed on fear. As an Avatar/Monster/Whatever. And I mean like it's pretty hard. To admit you're in the wrong for something. Even if you think you're in the wrong for other things. But like. None of this matters to Jess, to Floyd, to the three other people whose lives he ruined. He can try be better, he can never do it again, but he can't go back and fix it.

And I start to ask him, you know, what the hell, man, you know? Like— But he just starts talking. Slowly. But real intense. He says, he works here, at the, the Magnus Institute, and I say, what even is that and he says, he wants my story. He says he needs to hear what happened to me. And I— I want to tell him to jj-just go away. I want to, to, to kick him and run. But I— (long sigh) I sit down. And I start to tell him everything. About the job, about the collapse, a-about the hand. More than I told you, even, and, and as I do— it’s like I’m there again. Like I can feel it grab my ankle, th-th-that cold, dead hand and I just… I just can’t stop talking. I cannot shut up.

[ID: A blurry photo of CC!GoodTimesWithScar with his head in his hands. /End ID]

And then it was over. And he looked— He looked at me like he’d just eaten, like a perfectly cooked steak. You know what he said? He said, “Thank you.” “Thank you.” Just like that. Like, like reliving the worst parts of my whole life were just a bit of a… a favour that I’d done him. And then he left and I— I just sat there and cried for a while.

i don't know what to say im just sitting here with my head in my hands.

And he’s there the whole time, just… watching me. Watching me scream and thrash and… He’s all eyes. He’s all eyes.

I kinda want to punch him right about now, because how dare he do that to her, how dare he ruin her life just because he wanted to. Whatever, avatar, feed your god or it'll feed on you, I don't care, that's his business, not hers. She wasn't involved, she didn't have to be involved, she was fine and he took that from her, the bastard!

How dare he sit there talking about choice, how dare he feel all guilty for ruining her life, how dare he! He doesn't deserve to feel bad about it. Christ, Jon, what the fuck.

But I feel like I’m seeing him when I’m awake as well. I’ve been… I’ve been having a lot of problems since he talked to me. Since I talked to him. Since I told my... story. The, the claustrophobia, it’s back, worse than it ever was and I can’t do my job. I have these, these screaming panic attacks every time I try and— What am I supposed to do? Like, feels like, like every time I’m even slightly underground I— Can’t even go into a shop basement more without feeling that… (sniffs) hand. Every time I do, every time I get that panic just rising up my throat, I see him. He’s there. Not when I look properly, but just at the edge. The corner of my eye. Then he’s gone.

(MAG 142 - Scrutiny)

Since then, she said she’d been seeing that woman everywhere she went.

(MAG 6 - Worm Sex Episode Squirm)

✨ becoming what you hated ✨

No, but I have a lot of feelings on becoming a fear entity Avatar and the cycle of violence. Of how Avatars often only became Avatars because of previous trauma, because they had no other options. Of how they often don't see themselves as victims, for example Annabelle Cane describing herself as manipulative, even as she was a child trying to cope in an abusive household. And I think that Jon being like Jane Prentiss, following his victims like her, starting to understand her... that ties into those themes. I love this podcast <3.

MARTIN No, no, it’s— Thank you. I just— [Agitated clatter] For god’s sake, can he not just stay safe for like, like ten minutes?! DAISY I don’t think that’s an option for him anymore. MARTIN Yeah, I mean, sure. But he just… he doesn’t think! He always just immediately charges straight off into danger with whatever, whatever half-arsed plan occurs to him at the time! I don’t get it! DAISY What’s to get? MARTIN What? DAISY I, I mean, it’s pretty standard stuff. MARTIN What? DAISY Used to see it all the time back in the force, especially with the sectioned. Not like there’s ‘normal’ trauma, you know, but it’s pretty common. The most important thing becomes control, engaging on your own terms. Even when it’s stupid or dangerous. Anything to not feel helpless. MARTIN Oh god… DAISY And of course for Jon’s there’s survivor’s guilt in there too. He thinks he’s not human. Makes him very… self-destructive.

PODDED CAST!!

Thank you, Jonny.

Like hgnhhrnhhnr <3 yep. mhhnm there's another post that talks about the meaning of putting that in with scrutiny, I'll tag a mag a day in that.

Like! Aa! Thank you. Don't really have much to add, I mean I said a bunch in other episodes rambles, specifically the MAG 131, 132, and 136 ones.

I mean you know, the whole spider thing, a bit of his self-blame about... the end of season 4... could come from... if he's not to blame, then he didn't have any control, then all of this was out of his control. If he couldn't stop it, if Jimmy Magma's plan was that good then... well, then he was helpless, and there's nothing worse than being helpless.

in conclusion, disregard the above Jon did nothing wrong- no, he's... he doesn't get to be forgiven by Jess, by Floyd, by the others, not unless they choose to forgive him. But he can work on doing better, you know? He's allowed to not wallow in guilt the whole time, he's not irredeemable, he just did bad things -- bad things he can't fix -- but he can work on never doing those bad things again, on mitigating the damage as much as he can. He's not a bad person, just a person who did bad things.

I dunno, I'm more interested in the metaphysics side of philosophy. You know there's a branch of philosophy called metametaphysics? I think it's so funny.

[eldritch-spouse]

Can I get uuuuuuh reader who quickly figures out Breg is jackin it over the phone and proceeds to order him around & tease him?

As always, you're a fucking gift to all of your horny fans Pinnie 💕 thank you for being a glorious beacon of debauchery. Rereading your stuff is getting me through my second case of rona. Bless 🫶

--🍆🩲

[Yikes. Hope you're doing well, I only had it once. Fem reader. This a little shorter than usual.]

[Based on this post.]

He looks at the phone in pure agony.

Come on Breg, it's been, what... Half an hour longer than you said you'd be home?

It's natural to be worried, of course, but the breeder knows he could probably just text you to make sure everything's alright. Thing is, he hates texting. It's harder for Breg to read and write than the average person. And how could it not be? He learned those basic skills much later than he should have. It's only natural that he struggles sometimes, that he'd prefer to call you, which doesn't involve spelling- Aka, the bane of his existence.

Plus, he wants to hear your voice. F-For no specific reason...

It's not like he's getting lonely. It's not like he hasn't been thinking of bending you over in his hands and stuffing your holes until- Fuck.

Breathe. Think.

The whole house reeks of you, and he's getting antsy. Breg feels sorry that he's so sexual in nature, that you have to deal with this. That he's not strong enough to just turn away from the phone and jerk off like your run of the mill pervert. Nah, he's done that too much already while he was waiting for you to come back. Now he needs more. Dropping the used shirt the monster was twiddling between his digits, Breg reaches for the device and speed dials basically the only person he bothers to use the thing for, his free hand dropping to his slit in shameless preparation.

Takes a while before you pick up. As if you were debating whether or not to do it in the first place.

" ... Yes? "

Finally! His tail immediately starts wagging.

" Angel! "

There's a pause, then a very tired sigh.

" Breg. "

It's more of a groan than a greeting, something that definitely has the monster biting his lip, purposely misinterpreting the noise. His fingers drift up and down his slightly slick opening.

" Hi. "

It seems he's gone stupid. Or maybe it's just that he's focused on exposing himself.

There's the sound of shuffling from your end. " Uh, yeah- Is something going on? "

Well... That's about as far ahead into this endeavor as Breg thought. Time to toss random shit at the wall and see what sticks. The monster dips a finger into his slit and sighs quietly, the sound easily going unnoticed.

" Uhm no- I mean, yes! A-Aren't you late? You should be home by now. " He stresses.

" Mm? Yeah, I'm just doing some maintenance shopping, I'll be there soon. "

Not soon enough for his tastes.

Two fingers are now dipping into that sheath, rubbing and coiling until they find the tips of his cocks. He shivers a little, jolting at the first real touches to his members. " Do you have to do that now? "

Silence.

" ... Yes? Why? "

The breeder exhales again, this time in frustration, insistently coaxing his lengths out. It's a bit hasty of him, and Breg whines at the stretch of his unprepared slit when the roots of both cocks pop out, then relaxes back onto the couch cushions.

" Breg? You there? "

Shit. What did he say again?

" Uhhm- " Ah! " No, it's just that, I mean, we can do that tomorrow, right? You're not working then, so... Come home? " Very persuasive, that'll work.

There's another long pause of pure silence, one he's not too happy about, since the sound of your voice was helping him feel good just moments ago. The monster lightly strokes his left shaft, waiting, breath picking up slightly.

" Be honest, did something happen? Because it sounds to me like you fucked up again and you don't want to tell me. "

Breg gets a brief flashback of the handful of incidents where he set something in the kitchen on fire and quickly scrambles to soothe you. " No no, I swear! " He stops touching himself for a second. " I- I didn't do anything. "

But what if he had done something?

What if he purposely broke some of your stuff, what if he said he tossed all your plates out the window? Would that make you get home faster? Would you race here just so you could yank the breeder down and put him in his place? Punish him. Hips jut as he resumes pumping, circling the head of his cock with a thumb while he pictures you forcing him to the ground, smothering him for endless time as discipline for being bad. Fuck, he can almost phantom the sensation-

" Breg! "

The monster startles, a whine escaping him at your tone, tough he quickly coughs afterwards. It was far from a smooth maneuver. Never once does he risk stopping the flow of continuous pleasure, switching to his right dick while the left one twitches for more.

" Hhn- Y-Yes? "

" Have I been talking to no one all this time?! "

Not at all. The monster may not have gleamed a single word of your monologue, but he was very attentive to the familiar melody of your voice throughout it. " I'm... " He has to muffle another noise, tail thrashing against the coffee table. " I'm sorry, I got distracted. "

" Doing what? "

Oh, the usual, fucking myself to the thought of you. " N-Nothing. "

Idiot.

This next pregnant pause feels intentional, as if you're pressuring him. " Mhm, yeah. Well, I'm hanging up. "

" NO! " Breg shouts, half in anger half in dread, before he realizes that might have deafened you a good bit. " Please, just don't... "

There's a noise like a snort from your side, then more rustling. " Uhuh, why? "

Well fuck. What can he say now, if not the truth? He's never been good at lying, and you know that as well. He'd rather just tell you the truth and deal with the consequences than try to keep up a ridiculous charade. Breg grips the base of his shaft, pulsing.

" You're jerking off. " It's not even a question.

" I- I just wanna hear your voice... "

Painful quiet.

The breeder flusters, suddenly quiet. " No. N-No, I'm not. " Flawless, you must have been totally convinced by the awful crack in his voice.

" I've been hearing the slick of your hand on your dicks for minutes now. "

Breg halts instantly. Is... Is it really that noticeable? He's not quite sure what to say, maybe apologize? Yes, it feels like you're mad at him.

" Why have you stopped? It's not as if I'm going to ground you for beating off. " A hum, it sounds like you're moving something. " Even if you're a gross degenerate that can't keep it together. "

The insult wounds him a little, though bounces right off when he processes your first words, throbbing against thin air. " You- You want me to keep going? " The disbelief is palpable.

" Do you want to keep going? I didn't start this. "

The ambivalence you're displaying does nothing to calm Breg down. It's as if you expect this from him, which honestly, he can sort of understand when he thinks about all the other less-than-adequate situations you've caught him in. Still, the fact that you'd so nonchalantly let him get away with this is exhilarating.

" I want you here... " The pale monster whines out.

The laugh that rings out is jovial and marvelous, making him shiver and squirm. " Well, I'm not there, so make do. Don't let me stop you. "

Breg's not even sure what he's thanking you for. The fact that you haven't hung up? That you're letting him touch himself to your voice? Who knows... His pace resumes, a little more fevered this time, the breeder makes no effort to muffle his heavy breathing.

" Thank you, angel! "

" C- Can you keep talking? " He requests, in that voice where you'll be able to tell he's wagging his tail like a pup.

" Ugh, so needy... " You click your tongue. " What do you want to hear? "

" Just say things. "

Once more, very helpful of him. But it's not like the monster can spare much thought to eloquence when he just wants to orgasm.

" You know Breg... " The breaks between each word sound measured, either his mate is making an attempt to listen to him or you're just teasing for the sake of it. " Jerking off on a call, licking my used clothes, fingering me in my sleep- I don't think you deserve anything nice at all. "

" N-... No? " His cocks jump anyway, it's not as if he enjoys getting reprimanded, but the breeder is intrigued nonetheless.

" Nope. " You chirp. " What are you gonna do to make it up to me? "

Ohh fuck, anything! Anything anything anyth-

" W-Whatever you want! " If he wasn't pistoning into his own hand before, he is now, whimpering in the back of his throat. Why can't you be here??

" Yeah? " Breg nods, then belatedly realizes you can't see it. " And what do you think I want? "

A series of images flash through his mind's eye like a reel show of senseless depravity. It stuns him. Breg gives a full body shudder, tail tensing upwards while he immediately starts scrambling for words to describe half of what he sees.

" I- I can- Do you want to f-fuck my face? " He's been plagued with thoughts of it lately. You forcing him to kneel as you grind yourself over his features, spreading your scent and your mark on him. " It- I promise it'll feel good, I'll make you feel so good, I love the taste of your sweet pussy I'll- Ahn! Mmf- " A frustrated little moan derails his speech as the breeder gets too lost in his own fantasies, as usual.

" Just talking about it gets you in that state? " There's a bit of incredulity behind your tone.

" Yes, yes- Can you please come home? Please? Angel, I need you... " Words cease altogether as the monster parts his mouth in mounting pleasure, furiously chasing his climax, beads of drool splattering to his chest while he groans nonsensically, a sort of pathetic displeasure that you're not there to help him along. Or lick his cum off, fuck, you always look so hot when you do that.

" Hey, hey- Hands off your junk. "

Breg almost wants to scream. Instead, he hisses quietly, the noise tapering out into a muffled snarl.

" Don't give me that growling! "

Well, you weren't the one told to stop out of nowhere!

" Buh- But you said I could! "

A huff. " I said you could keep touching yourself, not that you can cum. "

" But I wanna... " He pouts. As if that wasn't obvious enough.

" Oh, so you don't want to cum in me then? " It's like you enjoy twisting words, and frankly, that might just be the case.

" N- Wait-! I want to, I want it, please please I'm sorry- "

" Then stop. "

Another grumble.

" Breg. " You warn. " Plug that sopping slit and don't move a fucking muscle, you hear me? "

" ... Yes. " The monster doesn't want to ruin his high, but he's also very much driven to please, sinking two fingers into the space between his opening and the members that stand tall and swollen with need.

" If you can follow those simple instructions, we'll do what you said when I get home, okay? " Breg picks up on another sound from your end, jingling keys, then the revving of an engine. Your car.

His tail is a swishing blur.

" Okay. " Anyone can tell he sounds miserable about staying still however.

There's a hum of approval. " What do we say? "

His cocks pulse. " T-Thank you. "

" Good boy. "

When you hang up, the breeder almost wants to cry, rutting into his own digits as he waits.

He's a good boy.

[terrahlee-cup]

The finale of the ‘holy shit she has a lot to say about this one fic’ series before I return to my regularly scheduled random bullshit. Enjoy lol @raphaelesbian

Chapter 11

*sees author’s note, immediate fear*

Him thinking they look like they should be scared of him hurts me. The baby is not doing too hot tonight huh? Let them like youuuu 🥹

OUTFIT TIME YES! “We need to match if we’re going to be a team!” I KNOW I KEEP SAYING THIS BUT THEY’RE ADORABLE. 

“He’d gone past that feeling, to the frayed mess that he was now. He… didn’t want her to feel like this.” Buddy you shouldn’t feel like that either??? This child is so sweet with other people when he needs to be but never himself ow ouch.

These two are so excited to dress him up and I am excited to read it.

“Well, I love being difficult. Ask Leo.” And the self-deprecation is back. Ohp.

Love these two being legitimately concerned for him when they find out his family doesn’t know what he’s been doing. As much as everything they’ve been up to has usually been dangerous it’s really good for Raph to have more friends outside of his family.

Also, the actual effort to make him feel like he’s part of their little group is incredible and amazing and adorable and-

Ohp they found a landmine— wonder if that’ll come up again later?

Damn Raph didn’t even hesitate with that one did he. Call him a crybaby and he will have his revenge lol.

Oh yeah they still don’t get the turtle noise thing yet do they? And now the alcohol is really hitting time for the sad.

He’s… not going to be as quiet as usual while drunk. This could go poorly. He is so getting in trouble it is so obvious he’s intoxicated. Multiple people are up he is DOOMED.

Yep. Yeah his dad figured it out immediately. Oh boy. AND CASEY’S THERE TOO THERE GOES HIS EXCUSE FOR BEING OUT. I am. Uncomfortable. Agh, lying to his family is not good but he DOES need to be able to get out of the lair. He’s in a bad spot as it is without being cooped up all the time.

Ah. There’s the blow-up. Yayyyy. Donnie… hun, why in the actual fuck would you think suggesting that would be a good idea after everything that’s happened?

“None of you get to decide what I do!” Annnnd there’s the main problem. Sure, Raph may have been the ‘rebellious one’ before the brain worm, but people trying to control him (even if trying to protect him) is probably way more uncomfortable for him now. He lost all control of his body for what, 3+ months? Yeah can’t expect him to not need some level of freedom right now. Anxiety-inducing as hell for his family (entirely fair), but trying to keep him in the lair is probably going to do more harm than good.

Chapter 12

Oh hey he’s dissociating almost immediately after waking up that’s good! Yay! :D

“Karai would hate him for it.” Hun I very much doubt that. She definitely knows your family would find out eventually.

“If I’m such a disappointment, why do you even care what I’m doing?” Agh stupid dumb child must hug him.

“No wonder Shredder favored robots and mind control.” Oh boy. This can only go well. The self-deprecation is getting worse too lovely! Bud your family’s just really fucking worried damn it. They don’t hate you 😫

Mikeyyyyyy <3 bean. Lol he snuck Raph his phone, nice.

Of course he got caught immediately trying to sneak out. “for a moment he wanted him to give in.” This kid is NOT OKAY. AT ALL. That is NOT GOOD.

“the desperation woven into a noose that tightened with each word that fought its way through his esophagus.” EYYYYY HE SAID THE THING. (Ow.)

“Y’know, he said the same thing.” OW. FUCK. THAT WAS HARSH BUDDY- LIKE WAKE-UP CALL YES BUT ALSO WAY TOO MUCH.

I think I summarized a lot of my thoughts about these two chapters very well here:

But in all seriousness this is very well written and I am very excited for whenever the next chapter is uploaded. Seemingly we’re in for some more angst based on… certain posts *squints*

Love the chaos trio that is Shinigami, Karai, and Raph. They are menaces and will probably give Splinter gray hairs in the very near future lol. I suppose Raph and Karai have probably given him quite a few already on their own, though. Whoopsie.

[purpleandstarlight]

@hateweasel I think I may post a couple a little more quickly bc I have so many and I like sharing this stuff

(On the subject of Preston being hit)

My friend: Hey, better him than my ship at least...

Me: He got hit trying to shield Kris actually, so you should be more grateful

My friend: WELL DONE PRESTON!! DIE FOR THE SHIP!!

Me: NOO 💀 Anyways Cielois is reunited finally

My friend: Finally! Now everyone get out of there, before someone actually important dies!! (Sorry, Preston)

Me: Why this costant bullying towards Preston? 💀

My friend: Poor Preston...its nothing personal, i just have different priorities...

(Also to be fair with my friend...that was like, the first time I ever told her about Preston, since I began the commentary quite late and at that point most of Preston's more centered arcs had gone by..so she didnt know anything about him yet, just that he was one of the 7 and wounded)

-My friend, after i told her about Preston being poisoned by the Black Annis and the fact that he will most likely die much sooner than the others and we talked a bit about his situation: This entire last part of the arc has been SUPER sad tho...

Me:Yeah...at least the Cielois Reunion was wholesome?

My friend: And we also got the KrisDan kiss...And neither Kris nor Dan died, so it's a victory on all fronts!!

Me: I mean the battle is still going on strong 💀

My friend: ...Guess i spoke too soon then

-There was this entire discussion Metus and Alois were having while fighting and they were snapping at eachother while throwing hands and it left me Flabbergasted because it was the weirdest battle trash talk i ever read in my life. It was all about Alois talking about his relationship and Metus suggesting a restaurant for their anniversary (Wich is also the one at the beginning of Devils like to Prove...wich also left me Flabbergasted but in a much less amused way, seeing the shit Metus pulled later on during their fight at the end of DLTD...)

- I stopped with my thoughts on DLTD and just began with the DLTP ones? I probably didnt have too much to say to her considering it was so much action and stuff...

-Began saying that i would have laughed more about Alois actually going to that restaurant if not that remembering the guy made me uncomfortable because of the shit he did.

-Me: So...while reading DLTD, i asked the author a list of spoiler free memes. One of them was a name [for context, it's Baldassere]  and as I began this and heard the name for the first time i was like "Oh he must be a villain that's why he's a meme" but no actually now I met him and it's because he's a fucking idiot

-Mentioned Sister Dorothy to my friend and I was immediately stanning her SO MUCH.

-My friend was asleep when I read like the first 26 chapters or smth of DLTP (it was night) so she caught up with my texts when she woke up. The one i really want to mention first is this scenario she made up when I told her that KrisDan confessed but Kris insisted on Dan breaking up with Anastasia before they got together (She also joked in the past during DLTD that they hadn't been together for a long time or even at all and Dan just didn't get it):

Dan: Ana, i gotta tell you something...

Ana: Shoot, bro.

Dan: We can't be together anymore, because I'm actually gay and like your brother.

Ana: ...bro we haven't been together for MONTHS. I'm about to marry Lawrence, i even sent you an invitation...I also call you bro because I know you're with my brother. Do you mean to tell me you're not actually together yet?!

Dan: ...Ah

[inkedmyths]

S2: E4 "Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things"

Brought to you by I FINISHED THE QUARTER I'M ALIVE THANK GOD

This episode featuring: Don't cry and drive, interrogating the grieving, stupid men making bad decisions, and lessons that I'm SURE will be taken to heart

Ohhh this chick having a breakup or a death or something and this guy gets her alcohol and chocolate and emo rock. Thats so nice

Whshsgsg did she climb out the window

DONT TEXT AND DRIVE

Or call and drive and yeaaaah thats what I thought

[ Kayla inquires about this, and I amend it to being a sobbing mess while at the wheel. Kayla then goes on a continuous tangent about how much she's cried while driving. Friends, if you're reading this, please be aware that Kayla is not a model for any behavior you should be exhibiting. ]

Oh their dad's necklace on their mom's grave. Ah :(

Ohhh its a dead tree so spooky. What are you looking at Dean

Ooookay the dead grass circle is actually spooky. Uh?

Sam neither you or Dean are doing any kind of coping

[ Kayla says that if they were, we wouldn't have a show. ]

NOOOO GOD NOT THE HARASSING PEOPLE WHO JUST HAD SOMEBODY DIE

I get its for the job but :(

GOD THIS POOR DUDE IS LIKE. HES SO SO SAD BC HIS DAUGHTER DIED and then Dean's like "Yeah yeah so do you ever feel like she's still ~present~ orrrr" and Sam's clearly glaring at him to STFU

Traumedy at its finest

[ Theres some discussion now on Dean and how he handles things, due to how he was raised and his position as the Older Brother. Basically, he handles things badly, for a variety of fucked up reasons. This isn't news. ]

Sam is, in this case, right. But Dean is going to continue repressing!

Oh hey is this the best friend guy?

Or the bf?

OH THAT PLANT JUST DIED

Boi you're so dead

Ohhh spooky reflection

Oh he deeaaaad shooocker

Dean. What are you doing.

IDIOT

Dean has now ended up with a sad crying girl and he's sitting there with the clear expression of someone SO not equipped with what's happening

This is why you don't break and enter. You end up being faced with emotions.

Dean being such a brat but when is he not

COLLEGE EMPLOYED GRIEF COUNCILORS

Every new thing they impersonate is funnier than the last

Except maybe the priests. Idk if anything will top that

[ Kayla says it will. I am delighted by this. ]

Ok I was right the guy was her bf and was cheating

Grave digging. Of course. I get it but also Why

[ Kayla says something in spoiler text, and Aspen says to stop posting easy to click spoilers. Kayla says to stop clicking the spoilers. How do you think I feel? You people will have paragraphs of spoiler discussion. Right in front of my salad. ]

EMPTY COFFIN??

Oh shit there she is

Wh

I mean. Ok. Make out with a dead girl. Yeah. I mean I guess I would assume I'm dreaming but also man doesn't that raise any red flags my dude.

Also Sam yelling at Dean so true

Zombie??

Dude? Red flags?

OHHH

OHHHHHH THIS MOTHERFUCKER

I seeeeeeeee I seeeeeeee

He resurrected her bc he wanted her back

[ Kayla and Melon discuss the existence of zombies in SPN. I mostly ignore it. ]

Ohhhh oh the roommate

Uh oh girl!!

UH OH GIIIIRL

Ohhh thats scary as shit but epic

"Damn that dead chick can run"

[ Melon asks if I'm going to watch another episode, even though I'm in the middle of this one. Heathen. ]

[ Mom then interrupts to try and get me to try some foundation. I protest. Kayla says the phrase "dolled up for Dean", and Melon follows it up with "dressed up for daddy", and I immediately begin planning on ways to send them both to an early grave. Why am I friends with these people. ]

WHATS IN THE BAG BITCH

Ooooh bitch you did this you resurrected her

Ohhh you're so dead you're so stupid

OHHH SHE JUST STRAIGHT UP SNAPPED HIS NECK

Luring her in I see

Not a vengeful spirit but something turned angry and dangerous because someone decided to fuck around and find out

WHSHSHS something a little funny about Sam running from some chick in a nightgown

What's dead should stay dead! Correct Dean! Hope you all take that to heart

Don't tell me anything bc I'm already so sure they don't

There's 15 seasons and these guys love to fuck around and find out. What's a little necromancy

Pulling over? Whatcha doing. Getting out to yell at the void

Oh shit is Dean Winchester APOLOGIZING? (gasp)

[ Kayla says he actually does that quite frequently, due to generally being apologetic for committing the crime of existing. This is a fair assessment. ]

Its not your fault buddy... you couldn't have controlled what your dad did. You never could.

Oh my god men crying

---

Dean continues to do bad at feelings. Sam is only marginally better because at least he's addressing that there are feeling being had. Anyways, don't resurrect people, they come back Wrong, and I'm suuuure this is so totally a lesson that the Winchesters are taking to heart and therefore will definitely not be attempting any necromancy at all in the future.

[bengiyo]

Make it Right Rewatch Ep 1 Stray Thoughts

I have to do it, y'all. I've watched this like four or five times, but thinking so hard about My Only 12% and New's feelings about Love of Siam has me thinking about Make It Right and how that fits in. This project is fun because Cheewin is also involved. Yuan also ended up working on What the Duck.

It's really something how long teens have been uploading constant streams of their lives to the internet now.

Thailand has always done a good job with sibling dynamics.

Oh it's the lesbian friend. She ends up so disappointed in this show. I think it's interesting how there were nods to gay girls early in Thai BL before it all vanished.

The intro song for Season 1 is still in my top 3 for Thai BL. This song absolutely fucking SLAPS!

I'm feeling a happy sense of nostalgia watching this. I'm a whole adult now with a mortgage and a fancy TV. Thankful to the fans who saved this in 1080p. It still looks good.

Ah, yes, the beauty product placement.

I was definitely drawn to the casual physical intimacy between friends when I first watched this from jump when Fuse sits on Lukmo at school.

Young Ohm. We called it even then that he was a massive talent. Glad he was able to make something out of acting. Feels like most of this cast fell off.

Oh my god the whole scene of getting Fuse out of school to help Jean is still so surreal. New really understands masculine friendship. Helping your boys and risking getting into trouble to save the girl really does feel like this.

Casual reminder that we had more femmes in early Thai BL.

Yes, play the intro over the handshake with Lukmo. I will associate this with maximum friendship for the rest of my life.

It translates very well that Jean and her friends play the field (no shame), and also that Fuse is clearly younger than the older guys maybe more appropriate for her. Covering Fuse in debris also shows how messy and unready he is.

When I first saw this, I thought we were going to see Lukmo present a crush on Fuse when he suggested Fuse date a boy.

Boys chasing each other around snd threatening to fight is also very much high school.

Baby Plan!

Proximity Alert #1 in the first Rodtang scene. I do think we should get more BLs where a boy has feelings for one of the leads, gets disappointed, and ends up with one of their friends.

New teasing about the regimented existence in school and the ways it creates so many gay situations. This CPR class that requires the boys to take off their shirts?

I was always sad about Nine being recast in season 2. Something similar happened in Lovesick.

Where did Frame even get a bra from to put Nine in?

Hey, proximity alert #2. First teasing of Frame and Book.

It still bothers me that these boys are like 15 and getting wasted.

Oh shit, young Mean! I always forget he has a bit role in this show.

Finally, Tee is here. Oh, Boom, how I hoped to see so much more of you.

Ah, I forgot about the coin as the first sign for Tee that he maybe meant something to Fuse.

Oh the drunk acting isn't great, but I'm riding out the drama of, "Oh no. I don't know where be lives. I guess I'll take him home and watch him."

Tee really fireman carried Fuse to bed.

The Death of Junk Food shirt is sending me.

Tee definitely knew what he was doing when he undressed.

"Have you ever had sex with a guy?" immediately followed by the opening melodies of About Last Night. I have never gotten over this song and how effectively it gets used in this show. "Do you want to?" as the music builds and then pauses. "Yes," into the chorus. So good. They don't do it like this anymore.

Welcome back to Make It Right with me! I think instead of making unique posts for this, I'll just continue this as a thread to refer back to later. Much of this really holds up. It's about as good or better than a lot of the pulps of the last year.

[faustocosgrove]

oh yeah? well psychoanalyze this!

so i forgot to post the night befor last’s weird ass dream so i was just going to post it today and lie to you all about when this happened, but then i had an even weirder dream last night so i’m just going to fess up and nip this in the bud or else i fear i’m going to keep having weirder and weirder dreams as punishment.

so night before last i had two separate dreams where i woke up in the middle but last night’s just had one dream with two acts.

~~~

night before last nights weird dreams starts off with me trying to color match in the least logical way possible, then i was running from something and the only place that wasn’t out in the open was a military base so i broke into the military base.

now at this point a logical person would probably think that if me, a wee little human can bust into a military base then clearly a big scary monster (which was presumably what i was running from) would also be able to bust into a military base.

this military base looked a little bit like a mayan pyramid and it also had an honest to god forcefield around it, but in stead of solid wall stopping you it just kind of slowed me down as i was swimming toward the base. once inside there was literally nobody home. opening one door revealed that at the base of teh stairs was a pile of styrofoam, drywall, and other bits and bobs that let me know it was still under construction when the project was abandoned. the rooms on the floor i had busted into were finished, furnished, and lived in. also empty. i got to the last room which had a hologram window that played nature scenes. then i heard the tv in an empty room turn on and i was so scared i woke up.

second dream.

presumably i was still in the same universe as the first because the water looked the same except i had a boat this time. the police arrived and asked me… well i can’t remember what the first guy asked me because i shooed him away. then his partner comes out for round two and she’s a short butch lesbian with buzzed and bleached hair and i immediately turned stupid. told her “i don’t know what i’d tell you if we went on a date later tonight” and i kissed the back of her hand. and then the first guy dragged her away from me.

stg i am a menace and i don’t even mean to be i’m just like this. anyway now y’all are warned that when the revolution comes to not tell me shit about anything because all it takes is one sexy lady just kind of standing there not doing anything to make me crack.

so after that i went to the store (??? ah yes, seduce a cop then go to the store. a totally normal couple of errands to run) and after wandering the entire grocery store i found literally nothing i wanted but then while going past the bakery section i found out it was valentines day and all the valentines day cakes for orders were in the display and they were all these fucking huge cakes. there was a tiny display of generic cakes for pick up customers and they were all half the size and like 90 dollars.

i kept walking past the grocery store and found out the other half of the building was a ritzy hotel. i don’t know how to explain the layout, like imagine a spread sheet, and most of the walls had doors but some doors were key access only and some were regular interior doors and each “room” was sectioned off by a series of key access doors. so every “room” had a bedroom but each also might have a kitchen or a massage parlor or a pool. didn’t find a bathroom. one of the “rooms” had a regular interior door where it should have had a keyed door so i broke into this couple’s hotel room by accident. i left their hotel suite and the room i emerged into had a bunch of people in it and they were all staring at me like “oh my god why were you in their room?” and the girl that gave me the stinkiest look turned out to be a hotel staff member even though she was dressed like it was 2005. so she’s showing people a pool room and i thought to my self “that door’s going to close mysteriously behind her” and then the door closed mysteriously behind her and she stopped making noise. i kept saying “someone open that door, she’s dead” and i finally convinced this guy to open teh door. the light was turned off and he turned it on. got closer to the room and yeah, there she was, dead. for some reason, i was tasked with pulling her body out of teh water, which i did. the things that killed her were discovered, they were sentient mannequin limbs. and since i pulled her out of the water they were coming after me so i was like, grabbing an arm and smashing the joints with a brick while a leg flops on me, then moving on to the leg.

anyway the similarities between the breaking into places and the water world universe clearly imply that there is some shared meaning between these dreams but all i got out of it was the fact that i am not immune to sexy lady.

~~~

last night’s dream was taking place in teh 1970s. i know this because everything was slightly sepia toned.

first i was in the woods with this guy and a panther walks by. like a big cat, not like a sexy older lady! the guy asks me what we wold have done if it had attacked us, like how do you survive an attack by a big cat. i said you don’t. this was news to th panther, and it turne back and looked at us while doing the “curiosity” tail wag thing. the guy looked at me and i looked at the guy and i said “i’ll go get some help” and then it turned out we were not in the deep woods but an entire city was literally right behind me. it wasn’t making any noise. the first road i found was a 5 lane very busy road and i stuck out my thumb to hitch hike. i thought to myself “i’m a sexy lady this should take no time!” and literally every car going past merged into the left lane so no one would be parallel to me when they were stopped by the light. so that was a blow to my ego. the guy scurried past me to a guy in a pick up truck stopped in the far lane and explained that there was a panther and we were trying to get away. the trucker told us he would give us a ride but he was disappointed because we gave him this long explaination about the panther first and asked for a ride second.

the radio is playing a single song, well the chorus of a single song on repeat. except it was just teh singer with no band behind him. it was in a voice that wasn’t mine though. after some light googling, i’ve found the song is “Jack and Diane” by John Mellencamp. which came out in 1982. so somehow my brain only remembered the chorus of the song and edited out the band lol. some more light googling, which was just putting “1960s trucks” “1970s trucks” and “1980s trucks” in an image search reveals that the very first result for “1970s trucks” was almost exactly what this guy’s truck looked like, except instead of yellow and white his was light salmon and cream. so i got the truck right for the 1970s but not the music.

then i was at a restaurant and as i’m sitting there shoving food in my face teh waiter keeps quizzing me but it’s the weirdest fucking quiz. the one question i remember clear enough to repeat verbatum was “have you ever performed a live sacrifice of a gar?” and becaue a lot of the rest of the questions wer garbled i sat and thought for a second to make sure i heard “gar” correctly then i said “you mean the fish???? no.” then he asked me why and i answered “well, presumably because i think fish are cute but i’m too busy with this food right now.”

i’m pretty sure during teh interrogation the waiter asked me if i was drunk and i said either “i don’t know” or “i don’t care” or “i don’t give a fuck”

and then this lady i know sat in front of me and just spoke spanish and everyone around me was waiting for me to respond. i was able to pick out a few phrases and they were all like, subtly insulting. mainly commenting on how during this entire interaction i was shoveling food in my face. in hindsight none of the food had any flavor, not the undercooked shrimp with isopods stuck to its tail, not the lobster, and not the extremely cheap chocolate box cake with store bought frosting. then she switched over to english and said something along the lines of “what do you think of gods who do not behave like gods?” and i responded with “oh, you mean like that asshole?” and pointed to teh ceiling. and then i woke up.

now that i’m awake the person i thought was speaking spanish to me was 100% not the same person i know IRL who speaks spanish because the dream lady was about 7 shades lighter and had a different face.

i feel like i just flunked a spontaneous interview for a dietyship. either that or alienes were trying to get the missile defence codes and fucking up their translation software severly.

~~~

upon further reflection i was way more emotionally invested in the food that i was in the previous dream’s sexy lady. so when the revolution comes and the cops come to drag me away make sure to like, cram a granola bar in my mouth as insurance against any potentially sexy ladies they might have on staff.