#and the digit in the ones place and the digit in the tens place will add up to nine

[tk-o]

join Squids For Palestinian Kids and donate today!

[image id: a digitally drawn poster about a splatoon tournament and side events called Squids For Palestinian Kids happening on sunday, 2nd of june beginning at 6pm BST, 7pm CEST, 1pm EDT, and 10am PDT. all donations support the Palestine Children's Relief Fund. the tournament is round robin to single elimination, and everyone makes a bracket. art raffle prizes are offered to those who donate ten dollars or more and art prizes are offered to the top three alpha and first place beta winners of the tournament. the poster's design is a background of a blue sky with the flag of Palestine, which has a red triangle on the left overlaid on three horizontal stripes of black, white, and green. an inkling on the left is wearing an n95 mask and various pins with the Palestinian flag, the neurodivergent rainbow infinity flag, and the progress rainbow pride flag, and an octoling on the right with curly tentacle hair in the colors of the Palestinian flag wears a black and white keffiyeh and a p100 mask. end image id]

(if there's any improvements i can make to this image id please let me know i've never written one before 👍)

i got the chance to be an artist for Squids For Palestinian Kids this time around and i designed and drew this poster!!! last time, this event raised over 6,500 dollars for the Palestine Children's Relief Fund, so we're hoping to raise even more this time around!! spread this info far and wide, repost this poster in your discords (i dont really need to say this but you don't need to credit me), print it out and put it on your work and school's bulletin board, tell your younger sibling or cousins about this cool charity tournament they can join with you, even just leaving up our twitch stream in the background can help us get more exposure!!

here is the tiltify link for information https://tiltify.com/@hollowermoon/sfpk2 , and here is the direct tiltify donation link https://donate.tiltify.com/8ce25edd-f8cf-47ce-85fb-f66b40101d5d

here is the link to watch the official stream on twitch https://www.twitch.tv/SFPKsplatoon

here is the sendou.ink link to register for the tournament https://sendou.ink/to/124/register

here is the link to join the discord, feel free to ask questions on how to register and find a team if this is your first tournament!! https://discord.com/invite/n2XAbBcUjr

here's the announcement on twitter/x made by the organizer of the event, @/hollowermoon ! be sure to retweet/repost this on there if you have a twitter since twitter's generally more active and seen by more people https://x.com/hollowermoon/status/1794783586241138787

[tyrantisterror]

Who are your top ten favorite sympathetic villains in fiction?

See, that's the kind of question you just can't answer on this site in normal conditions. This is tumblr, the place where if you think a villain from any media that people have heard of is sympathetic, there will be an incredibly vocal contingent of moral puritans who will flock to your proverbial door to scream at you for being a fascist and threaten you with torches, pitchfork, and a good ol' stake to burn you on. Doesn't matter what media the villain is from or how fantastical or mundane their crimes are - if you try to argue someone deemed bad by the mob is actually morally complex, they will force you to walk the scaffold of the gallows so they can plunder your real estate when you're buried in the unmarked grave reserved for heathens and heretics.

Hell, it's not just strangers on here you have to worry about this with, either. When I first read this question a few characters who affected me deeply came to mind immediately, and for each one I could pinpoint at least one person who follows my blog that would not hesitate for a moment to post a several paragraph screed in a reblog of this ask telling me why that character is actually Objectively Worse Than Hitler, and that I'm a fascist if I continue to like them. This is not a safe space to sympathize with villains. Lust after them, sure, but not to sympathize with them.

But! I have thought of a work around. Obviously, any media with a fandom isn't safe - unless that media is so obscure, so barely known, that its fandom can probably be counted on two hands. Something where the fan count can't reach above the double digits, and in all likelyhood is less than fifty at the most generous estimation. And it just so happens I can think of AT LEAST ten sympathetic villains from works of media I dearly, genuinely love - love them so much it's as if they were my own children, even - that are at this level of obscurity, and likely to remain so for as long as I live. So here are my

TEN FAVORITE SYMPATHETIC VILLAINS FROM WORKS OF MEDIA SO OBSCURE THAT I CAN GUARANTEE NOBODY ON EARTH WILL EVER SEARCH FOR THEM ON TUMBLR AND PROCEED TO SCREAM AT ME FOR LIKING THEM!

10. MechaTyrantis from The Atomic Time of Monsters by William Cope

Appearing in William Cope's stunning kaiju period piece novel series The Atomic Time of Monsters, MechaTyrantis takes the genre trope of a mechanical doppelganger kaiju and gives it a few new twists. We actually meet MechaTyrantis as a purely flesh and blood creature first, where he is presented as a natural rival for the main kaiju character, Tyrantis, because they are both males of the same species vying for the attention of the sole female of their kind that they've found. MT loses the courtship fight to Tyrantis, and nurses a grudge about it, eventually luring Tyrantis into a trap to try and kill him. In the grand tradition of villains, his evil plot backfires and hurts him more than his intended victim, leaving him crippled and comatose in a rock slide.

This is where the pathos comes in, for as nasty as MT is, the human villains who excavate his unconscious form from the rocks are a lot worse, harvesting him for parts to make a cyborg war machine. Intended to be nothing more than a wetware PC, MechaTyrantis's animal brain lies dormant for much of the time he's being piloted, but sporadically awakens when given proper stimuli - at which point we get treated to the horror of what was done to him, and how his animal mind struggles to understand the surge of inputs from both his machine body parts and the human trying to pilot them. His existence is, bluntly, a nightmare, and one that makes MechaTyrantis continue to lash out at the world with horrifying results.

Yet as nasty as he was before and after his alteration, it's clear he doesn't deserve a fate this wretched, and author William Cope obviously agrees with me, as MechaTyrantis does stumble his way into a redemption of sorts, albeit by suffering a great deal of pain and humiliation before he can reach the epiphany he needs.

9. Promythigor from The Atomic Time of Monsters by William Cope

One of the last villains introduced in The Atomic Time of Monsters Series (at least so far - while there are only two volumes at the time of this writing, esteemed author William Cope has noted several times on social media that he intends to write more someday down the line), Promythigor has less screentime than most of his fellow bad guys, but he makes it count. Essentially King Kong if he both had firebending powers and a dangerous case of pyromania, Promythigor isn't outright malicious so much as lethally foolhardy and careless with his fire powers, which brings him into conflict with pretty much ever living being he encounters.

Yet, like MechaTyrantis, there's pathos to him, as he too is a horrible science experiment created by humans who neither thought of nor cared about the psychological state of the supernatural animals they were exploiting. There's almost an innocence to Promythigor as he lashes out, and for all the trouble he causes with his mischief it's clear he doesn't really understand how much harm he's doing. One thinks he could sort himself out if given a few good influences and a lot of firm boundaries, which volume two seems to set him up for. At the very least, he got one of the best action scenes in the books.

8. Ahuul from The Atomic Time of Monsters by William Cope

Ok, last kaiju on this list, I promise! Or at least the last one from ATOM. Ahuul is the first villainous kaiju we meet in William Cope's groundbreaking series, and he does a good job of setting up the stakes - before we properly meet him, the story is relatively light-hearted, especially with the big, lovable friendly kaiju Tyrantis forming an unlikely friendship with human paleontologist Dr. Lerna. But then Ahuul flies out and begins eating people to reminds us that these monsters can be quite deadly indeed. Things get particularly dire when he leaves the countryside and lands in the nearby town, at which point we see how helpless the local law enforcement of this rural community are in the face of a kaiju threat - and that makes it all the more cathartic a release when Tyrantis arrives to kick his ass.

Ahuul doesn't have a redemption arc so much as what tumblr has called a "Vegeta arc" - which is to say, he never really stops being a nasty, vicious bastard, he just ends up surrounded by enough morally inclined badasses that he stops being able to get away with doing much evil anymore. By the end of volume one, he becomes something of a joke, easily trounced by all the other monsters around him, as by that point the world of ATOM has expanded enough to show that a monster as deadly to humans as Ahuul is still ultimately kind of a small fish in a big pond.

Which does lead to some character development, in a roundabout way. Ahuul may be awful, but he doesn't like to be beaten up all the time, and so he starts making efforts to tone down his worse impulses and gain the tolerance of his neighbors. Seeking redemption out of pragmatism instead of remorse may not be super moral, but it does shed an interesting light on the nasty bastard, and allows us to enjoy him as a character without worrying that his comedically awful personality will cause real problems.

7. The Jester's Jape from No Small Feat and Wake of the Red Death, a pair of Fabula Ultima TTRPG Liveplay Shows GM'ed by William Cope

(inking for these sprites done by the illustrious @dragonzzilla)

I suppose I'm cheating by putting four characters in one spot, but you kind of have to take these ladies together. A quartet of goofy villainous henchmen in the vein of the Turks from Final Fantasy 7 and Ozzy, Flea, and Slash from Chrono Trigger, the Jester's Jape are a quartet of trouble-makers who routinely find themselves working for arch-villains and megalomaniacs because hey, it pays the bills. Though the bosses they work for tend to be bastards (or at least majorly conceited), they themselves are firmly in the "punch clock villain" mold, only doing what they need to to get paid, and more than happy to betray the evil bastards they were working for if things go South. I also like the fact that they establish clowns are explicitly a variety of half-demon in the setting of these stories, because it's fun to think of clowns as a variety of monster rather than just an occupation.

6. The Ravening Beast from No Small Feat, a Fabula Ultima TTRPG Liveplay GM'ed by William Cope

(Inking for these pieces done by the magnanimous @scatha5 and the splendiferous @dinosaurana, respectively)

Ok one more kaiju I suppose, technically, if we really stretch the definition of the word a bit. In a campaign full of fairy tale pastiches, The Ravening Beast fulfills the archetype of The Big Predator That Wants to Eat You - not just your Big Bad Wolves, but your bridge trolls, your manticores, and all other large hairy things dwelling in wild places and waiting for innocent passersby to cobble up. And for most of the campaign that seems to be all there is to the monster - just a big, nasty, hungry thing that wants to eat and eat and eat, a primal fear that torments the player characters at every turn.

Until, of course, the heroes track it to its den, and we discover the Beast's history - how its father particularly aimed to sire a monster, creating a creatures whose hormones were so imbalanced that it had to eat its siblings at birth just to quell the churning emptiness in its guts. How it was specifically groomed to be a maneater, and how it was fed a corpse with one of the magic jewels that serve as the campaign's primary mcguffins, which turned it into an even worse monster.

At the end of the story, the Ravening Beast wasn't a figure to be afraid of, but one to be pitied - a poor, mistreated creature who was never given a chance to be happy, and like the real life man-eaters that inspired it, sadly had to be put down for its own sake.

5. Prince Lucifer of Cocytus from No Sympathies by William Cope

Yep, that's right, it's the goddamn devil. William Cope's magnificent first novel, No Sympathies, gives us a taste of its take on Lucifer at the start by showing us his rousing speech during the War in Heaven before The Fall, but after that it waits a long time to show us the demon of demons when he's fully crowned in his sinful glory as Hell's prince of princes, content to build his reputation in whispers before we see him in action. Once Lucifer is fully unveiled, though, he is every bit the cunning and cruel bastard you'd expect, castrating his daughter's would-be suitor and generally coming off as in control of every situation we see him in.

At least, until the halfway point of the book, where shit truly hits the fan and Lucifer's dominion of Hell is threatened in way he's never had to face before. Lucifer, the ultimate bad boy, is forced into having to fight to save his people, and as expected, he's pretty fucking bad at it because, well, he's a self-centered douche - but one with enough charm and enough love in his heart to still be likable, making us root for him to get his shit together despite it all and finally be the hero he's always claimed to be.

4. Prince Beelzebub of Scathatch from No Sympathies by William Cope

While Lucifer is arguably more important to the plot of No Sympathies, I think anyone who's read William Cope's brilliant debut effort would agree that Beelzebub is his favorite of the princes. Hell, the lord of flies even gets to do the novel's title drop as part of his starring role in the chapter that really underlies the book's major point - namely, how can we judge the damned so harshly when we too are capable of sin, and isn't viewing some as sinners and some as saved a sin of hubris in itself?

Beelzebub gets some slick one-liners and produces one of the most horrifying images in the book, but more than that, he shows the pathos inherent to being a devil, as he's smart enough to realize that landing himself in Hell was a dumb move that's only brought him misery, but is too proud to fully accept his culpability in it, which makes his struggle to rationalize why he's suffering so much kind of tragic. Like Lucifer, you find yourself rooting for him to get his shit together despite his MANY rough edges, especially when the plot hits its big turn and he's forced into an unlikely hero role.

3. Marquise Alichino from No Sympathies by William Cope

It's a novel entirely focused on demons that almost no one's read, of course I'm going to mine it for characters! Alichino is, on the surface, a simpler villain than Lucifer or Beelzebub, in that her flaws are exaggerated to comedic extremes and mostly played for laughs. Hell, she's literally a demonic harlequin, isn't that appropriate? But her silliness contributes to her sympathetic nature, as you quickly get the sense that Alichino isn't fully aware of how nasty she's being, in part because the nature of Hell has divorced her from understanding the scope of suffering her actions inflict on those she's sent to punish. Alichino is further softened by the affection and loyalty she shows for those she's deemed worthy of her protection, proving to be a reliable ally despite her violent nature.

2. Matilda from No Sympathies by William Cope

This is the last No Sympathies character, I promise - and yes, that means I won't be including the book's protagonist, Pug, since you can't really argue he's a villain. He's a henchmen at best. Matilda, though, was a full on temptress in her heyday, in that it was literally her job to tempt people to sin. We even get to see her on the job, where she acts with all the sleaze of a used car salesmen while trying to convince a mortal man to sin. Of course, it backfires on her when she proves to have too big of a heart to stick to landing, and ends up demoted to a lowly position in Hell for it. The Matilda we first meet in the novel is broken by that experience, and much of the book is built on her discovering and embracing the goodness within herself despite the misery it brought her in the past - while Pug may be the main character of No Sympathies, Matilda is arguably the novel's heart.

1. Lord Dhenregirr from the Wizard School Mysteries series by William Cope

We're ending with a character from William Cope's exceptional and utterly unique novel series that is certainly not similar to any popular fantasy fiction franchise that was published within the last three decades, Wizard School Mysteries. While only two of the promised eight novels in the series have been published so far, I think it's safe to say that Lord Dhenregirr is a scene-stealing standout among the supporting cast. In the first book, The Meddlesome Youths, he plays a primarily comedic role, a bumbling minor villain with delusions of competence and a tendency to make grandiose speeches about his wicked plans that are undercut by how quickly he's defeated, like an even more pathetic one-man version of Team Rocket.

However, in the second book, Tournament of Death, we get to see more dimensions of him, ad this is where Lord Dhenregirr shows signs of being more than just a gag character. Facing the protagonist of the series, James Chaucer, in a one-on-one battle in the titular tournament, Dhenregirr proves to be a far more competent fighter than previously shown, as for once he's neither outnumbered nor caught by surprise. No-selling most of James's spells and summoning a legion of skeleton soldiers to fight alongside himself, the goofy ineffectual villain ends up becoming a serious threat.

That is, until James threatens those skeleton minions with harm, which is when Dhenregirr exposes a truly sympathetic side of himself, as it turns out he's the rare villain who actually cares about the well-being of his cronies. Add to this the fact that some of his dialogue in the fight seems more like that of a mentor than an adversary to James, and you start to see how there could be more to Dhenregirr's motives than the simple cartoon villainy they first appeared to be. With six books left in the series, there's plenty of room for Dhenregirr to grow into a truly complex characters, and I for one cannot wait to see what William Cope does with him.

[regicidal-defenestration]

The language part (ie the Main Actual Game) of Chants of Sennaar is very fun don't get me wrong - figuring out when a radical means person, or signifies a verb, etc etc - but the number system is absolutely fascinating

[tincel-cat]

To the person who said that he was going to kill my cats as a ‘joke’ and sent me home crying;

[keeps-ache]

here have some art before i get knocked off the face of the earth again!

[just the background below because i like how it turned out]

ignore the watermark my brother thought it was funny so i kept it lol

[uglyshirtsinc]

i havent posted art in awhile but thought i'd post this one since Knox (@knox-enden) posted their art of Hira from this au :D that and i love Hiro and Kaede, so I needed to finally post art of them

and please ignore the odd cropping, i made it my phone wallpaper thats why its weird

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

making art truly is just hating making art but hating not making art more.

catch me spending the past hour saying "i hate this pen. why did i choose to use this pen?" every other minute whilst also forcing myself to acknowledge that ive chosen a pen that will look really cool but oh my god i hate the pen

[odinsblog]

🗣️THIS IS WHAT INCLUSIVE, COMPASSIONATE DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE

Minnesota Dems enacted a raft of laws to make the state a trans refuge, and ensure people receiving trans care here can't be reached by far-right governments in places like Florida and Texas. (link)

Minnesota Dems ensured that everyone, including undocumented immigrants, can get drivers' licenses. (link)

They made public college free for the majority of Minnesota families. (link)

Minnesota Dems dropped a billion dollars into a bevy of affordable housing programs, including by creating a new state housing voucher program. (link)

Minnesota Dems massively increased funding for the state's perpetually-underfunded public defenders, which lets more public defenders be hired and existing public defenders get a salary increase. (link)

Dems raised Minnesota education spending by 10%, or about 2.3 billion. (link)

Minnesota Dems created an energy standard for 100% carbon-free electricity by 2040. (link)

Minnesota already has some of the strongest election infrastructure (and highest voter participation) in the country, but the legislature just made it stronger, with automatic registration, preregistration for minors, and easier access to absentee ballots. (link)

Minnesota Dems expanded the publicly subsidized health insurance program to undocumented immigrants. This one's interesting because it's the sort of things Dems often balk at. The governor opposed it! The legislature rolled over him and passed it anyway. (link)

Minnesota Dems expanded background checks and enacted red-flag laws, passing gun safety measures that the GOP has thwarted for years. (link)

Minnesota Dems gave the state AG the power to block the huge healthcare mergers that have slowly gobbled up the state's medical system. (link)

Minnesota Dems restored voting rights to convicted felons as soon as they leave prison. (link)

Minnesota Dems made prison phone calls free. (link)

Minnesota Dems passed new wage protection rules for the construction industry, against industry resistance. (link)

Minnesota Dems created a new sales tax to fund bus and train lines, an enormous victory for the sustainability and quality of public transit. Transit be more pleasant to ride, more frequent, and have better shelters, along more lines. (link)

They passed strict new regulations on PFAS ("forever chemicals"). (link)

Minnesota Dems passed the largest bonding bill in state history! Funding improvements to parks, colleges, water infrastructure, bridges, etc. etc. etc. (link)

They're going to build a passenger train from the Twin Cities to Duluth. (link)

I can't even find a news story about it but there's tens of millions in funding for new BRT lines, too. (link)

A wonky-but-important change: Minnesota Dems indexed the state gas tax to inflation, effectively increasing the gas tax. (link)

They actually indexed a bunch of stuff to inflation, including the state's education funding formula, which helps ensure that school spending doesn't decline over time. (link)

Minnesota Dems made hourly school workers (e.g., bus drivers and paraprofessionals) eligible for unemployment during summer break, when they're not working or getting paid. (link)

Minnesota Dems passed a bunch of labor protections for teachers, including requiring school districts to negotiate class sizes as part of union contracts. (Yet another @SydneyJordanMN special here. (link)

Minnesota Dems created a state board to govern labor standards at nursing homes. (link)

Minnesota Dems created a Prescription Drug Affordability Board, which would set price caps for high-cost pharmaceuticals. (link)

Minnesota Dems created new worker protections for Amazon warehouse workers and refinery workers. (link)

Minnesota Dems passed a digital fair repair law, which requires electronics manufacturers to make tools and parts available so that consumers can repair their electronics rather than purchase new items. (link)

Minnesota Dems made Juneteenth a state holiday. (link)

Minnesota Dems banned conversion therapy. (link)

They spent nearly a billion dollars on a variety of environmental programs, from heat pumps to reforestation. (link)

Minnesota Dems expanded protections for pregnant and nursing workers - already in place for larger employers - to almost everyone in the state. (link)

Minnesota Dems created a new child tax credit that will cut child poverty by about a quarter. (link)

Minnesota Democrats dropped a quick $50 million into homelessness prevention programs. (link)

And because the small stuff didn't get lost in the big stuff, they passed a law to prevent catalytic converter thefts. (link)

Minnesota Dems increased child care assistance. (link)

Minnesota Dems banned "captive audience meetings," where employers force employees to watch anti-union presentations. (link)

No news story yet, but Minnesota Dems forced signal priority changes to Twin Cities transit. Right now the trains have to wait at intersections for cars, which, I can say from experience, is terrible. Soon that will change.

Minnesota Dems provided the largest increase to nursing home funding in state history. (link)

They also bumped up salaries for home health workers, to help address the shortage of in-home nurses. (link)

Minnesota Dems legalized drug paraphernalia, which allows social service providers to conduct needle exchanges and address substance abuse with reduced fear of incurring legal action. (link)

Minnesota Dems banned white supremacists and extremists from police forces, capped probation at 5 years for most crimes, improved clemency, and mostly banned no-knock warrants. (link)

Minnesota Dems also laid the groundwork for a public health insurance option. (link)

I’m happy for the people of Minnesota, but as a Floridian living under Ron DeSantis & hateful Republicans, I’m also very envious tbh. We know that democracy can work, and this is a shining example of what government could be like in the hands of legislators who actually care about helping people in need, and not pursuing the GOP’s “culture wars” and suppressing the votes of BIPOC, and inflicting maximum harm on those who aren’t cis/het, white, wealthy, Christian males. BRAVO MINNESOTA. This is how you do it! And the Minnesota Dems did it with a one seat majority, so no excuses. Forget about the next election and focus on doing as much good as you can, while you still can. 👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿

👉🏿 https://threadreaderapp.com/thread/1660846689450688514.html

[mortalityplays]

You need more free art.

I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.

You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.

We all need more free art.

So what am I going to do about it?

This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.

I'm going to do this:

1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.

This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.

Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.

2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.

Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.

Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.

I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.

2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY

To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.

On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.

You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.

3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS

Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).

The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.

4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE

I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.

tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!

[gutsby]

Trigger Tease(r)

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Before his morning briefing, your mob boss husband decides to take a pit stop in the sauna with you.

Warnings: 18+. Oral (f!receiving). Gentle fingerfucking. Praise and degradation. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Bucky talking you through it. Bimbofication if you squint.

Notes: @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast - you inspired me 🪽 I just had to crank out a little teaser for the third installment of Wedded Bliss. I hope y’all like it 💓

Full version here

In between breakfast and the start of your husband’s early briefing, you found yourself situated in much the same way you’d been spending a lot of time these days: pinned up against the wall of a wood-paneled sauna, Bucky’s broad shoulders supporting both of your legs as he buried his face deep between your thighs. You sighed.

“Hold still,” Bucky grunted, voice muffled as he tried to keep your slick, squirming body in place above him.

You yelped and seized a fistful of his hair when he wedged his tongue even further inside you, nudging your clit with his nose almost too teasingly and deliberate.

“I can’t…help it,” you bit back, ignoring the brief glare you earned from your husband as soon as you said it, “Your tongue’s just so— s— James!”

This time, Bucky let out a full-throated groan when you yanked on those poor wet locks of his—‘Gonna make me bald by next Christmas if you keep doin’ that, honey’—and he pried his head from your legs just long enough to knock you flat on the sauna bench close by.

The western red cedar seared hot on your skin, already flushed from the exhaustion wrought by Bucky’s tongue; you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up when he pushed you onto your back and crawled over your body.

“How ‘bout my fingers, doll? Can you take a couple’a those for me?” Bucky crooned above you as he stroked your hair, bathed in pure sunlight pouring in from the windows. His voice was a touch more sympathetic now.

After all, this was your third orgasm of the morning. It really wasn’t fair for him to use that biological weapon of mass destruction he liked to call his tongue when he knew how sensitive your clit would get from just one ‘O’. Even his hands might be too much in your current state.

Bucky was busy peppering your skin with kisses, working his way from the base of your neck to the crown of your head, when you whimpered and tried to fight a smile.

“Finger,” you corrected him, “Just one finger, Barnes.”

You would’ve thought you’d just thrown your wedding ring in his face and told him to eat shit. Just one?

“How’s one finger s’posed to stretch you out for my cock, huh? Practically had you screamin’ when I stuck it in last night,” Bucky wasn’t one to hide his amusement, grinning even bigger when you swatted him on the arm.

“Who said anything about your cock?” You tried to keep cool as Bucky’s fingers trailed right back down to the place you felt yourself throbbing, aching for his touch, “You have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Meeting doesn’t start until I say so, my love,” Bucky reminded you just as his index ghosted over your folds.

In truth, he was willing to play this game any way, and for however long, you wanted it done, so long as he was the one bringing you pleasure. Be that his cock, his finger, or all fucking five on one hand, Bucky just wanted to get you off. It was better sustenance to him than the whole damn meal the two of you had eaten that morning.

Bucky kept it down to one digit and lightly circled your bundle of nerves when he sensed you were ready.

You gripped his forearm and shot a quick look between your legs, still in disbelief as to how he could make you feel this good so soon after you’d cum twice before. You felt his lips drift over to yours and steal a few kisses.

“Always doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praised, moving his finger in circles. When you whined against his mouth, he pressed it even harder, “Such a good girl for daddy.”

“James,” you breathed, clenching your legs together.

“Everything OK?”

“Uh-huh.”

More than OK, in fact. That delectable coil of sweet, euphoric release was already swelling gently in your tummy. Bucky moved his finger even faster.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured low in your ear.

Bucky loved seeing you try to articulate your feelings—relatively fresh and new to your world, still—while he was giving you pleasure. Adored the way you winced and whined and arched your back into his touch as a whole blustering hailstorm of sensations crashed over you.

He sank his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you, as if trying to extract the words from between your lips. Your response, in consequence, came somewhat stifled.

“Mm— feels so, oh—” Your voice broke off in a moan when Bucky tightened his circles, “—so good, daddy.”

“Wanna show daddy how good and cum for me?”

Bucky knew by the way you were whimpering under his hand that the tendril in your stomach had almost tripled in size. It wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge.

“My sweet girl,” he said, rubbing your cunt at the same time he was stroking the back of your head, gently, “Feels so nice down there, doesn’t it?”

You rolled your hips against the bench and nodded. Your breaths were short and ragged, panting helplessly into Bucky’s mouth when he adjusted his hand just a little: pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit, with his index moving down to your entrance. Pushing inside you.

“Another,” you choked, not thinking.

Bucky met your desperate gaze and nodded, knowing this was exactly what you needed to make it over the precipice.

Still, he wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t tease just a bit.

“I thought my wife wanted one finger,” he hummed, brow pinching inward.

“No, no.” You could’ve shrieked when he curled the digit, “Want more— Bucky, please, please, I need more.”

Again, your husband appeared to nod in understanding, but his fingers didn’t budge. He worked his thumb a little faster and watched you writhe on the seat beneath him.

“How many, honey? Don’t wanna hurt my baby.” His words were all kindness, it seemed, but his tone laced with shameless condescension—the kind that said, yes, I know you need this, and no, I won’t indulge you just yet. Bucky was the worst when he wanted to prove a point. You could’ve ripped at his clothes and torn them in two if you weren’t both stark naked and shrouded in steam.

You opted to pull at his hair instead.

Bucky winced, but the smirk never left.

“I said how many?” he pressed again.

“Three. Four.” Fuck if you knew.

Your husband raised both eyebrows and hummed, a single finger still plunging in and out of your cunt in quick succession. He teased the tip of another at your entrance and smiled even more when you whined.

“Needy little thing, isn’t she?”

“Bucky—”

“Just wants to fuck daddy’s hand to get herself off, hm?”

Bucky didn’t bother to mask his sweet, degrading tone any longer as he talked down and teased you to no end. It drove him half-insane to see you squirm around, rut your hips, let him say the filthiest fucking words he could conjure up, and just bob your head to whatever he said. His impeccant wife and her insatiable needs—Bucky couldn’t even begin to express how turned on the sheer dichotomy got him. He stared in your eyes, all glossy and soft, and felt his cock stand even more rigid on his belly.

He didn’t give a shit if he’d taunted you enough or not; he just shoved his middle and ring fingers alongside the first and clenched his jaw to start fucking you hard with all three.

Your whole face contorted with pleasure, tinged with the faintest shade of discomfort at the tail end of it. You’d forgotten how big his fingers felt all together.

“Bucky,” you whined, mindlessly clawing at the wrist that was moving back and forth, fast, between your legs, “B-Baby, slow— slow down a little.”

But Bucky was deep in the zone. He knew you wanted it too—sensed that you liked to play it safe when it came to your pleasure and grew a little timid at times it got to feel too much—and he needed to talk you through it.

Rather than turn his head and keep to himself as he got you up to your peak, Bucky pressed his face down to yours and nodded again—this time with a tender sincerity.

“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”

You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Bucky kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his fingers wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,

“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”

“My perfect fucking wife, so good at taking my fingers.”

“Gonna be nice and stretched out for my cock, hm?”

Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Bucky wanted you. Exactly how you needed to be, bucking your hips in time with the cadence of his fingers fucking inside you, and soon, those whimpers were turning to moans as that soft little helix inside you reached its breaking point.

Bucky brushed once or twice more against your sensitive spot, and suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his wrist you feared you might snap it in two, and then getting kissed again, over and over while Bucky drank in your every sound, and the few tears that sprung to your eyes as they always did, like sweet nectar.

You were still moaning, curling your tongue feebly against his own and leaning into him as far as you could, when your husband slipped three fingers up between your mouths and pushed them past your parted lips.

“Suck,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he watched you, “C’mere, honey, taste your cunt on my fingers.”

You took him in and sucked your arousal off his fingers just like he asked. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his hand, where your juices had no doubt collected too.

That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Bucky could’ve wanted.

He climbed on top of you and took the base of his cock, rock-hard and weeping tears of precum from the tip, almost drunk from the feeling himself. His mouth hung open as he dragged himself over the seam of your cunt.

“I need to fuck you.”

Taglist (STILL HAVE TO UPDATE THIS I'M DUMB AS SHIT): @vicmc624, @she-could-never, @mcira, @kentokaze, @identity2212, @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx, @stinkerbelle007, @opibarnes, @wilsons-striped-ties, @desigirlxx, @pono-pura-vida, @geminiflanagansblog, @fandomsfeminismandme, @buggy14, @sky-full-0f-fl0wers, @buckysdoll1520, @armystay89, @minimarvelingmarvel, @kunakizen, @ghostiebby06, @blackhawkfanatic, @dameron-grant-spector, @sushiseoks, @deansapplepie, @mrsjoequinn, @lunaroserites, @first-edition, @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi, @excusememrbarnes, @daisychainsoflove, @mostlymarvelgirl, @diannana, @shawnberry, @yujyujj, @urmomsalex, @mrs-bucky-barnes-73, @athenabarnes, @christinabae, @wintrsoldrluvr, @bethbunnyy, @i-heart-smut @dixsond

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

déjà vu

déjà vu : a french term that translates to "already seen." It is a phenomenon where an individual feels a strong sense of familiarity or recognition with a current situation.

bnha chap. 362 n 403 spoilers ! childhood friends to lovers can you tell i'm inlove with this trope oooorrr…, angsty?? bittersweet hurt/comfort ?? fem reader, reader's height isn't specified but is shorter than katsuki's, reader gets a bit insecure but katsuki fixes that up rq, reader is very mushy n inlove with katsuki, (but aren't we all) katsuki loves reader very much in return

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks about primary school. you’re both ten, double digits. foolishly believing you were all grown up. katsuki’s fingers are white and dry from cleaning up the chalkboard, since you guys were tasked for clean up duty today.

or at least, you were. but your classmate suddenly vanished without a word and katsuki, as nice and helpful as he was (to you, at least) decided to stay behind to help you, don’t ask him where your cleaning buddy went, he has absolutely no idea and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

“ y’know—” he starts, soaking the soggy sponge into the water bucket next to him, then squeezing it out. “when we’re done with this stupid school stuff, i’ll go pro.” he states, slapping the sponge onto the board, creating a loud splat noise.

you, having heard this time and time before, simply look at him and smile, placing your classmates chairs on top of their desks row by row “mhm, i know !” you grin “ 'n you’ll be number one, right ?” you’re standing in between two desks, hands playing with your uniform skirt behind your back.

“hell yeah i will !” katsuki boasts, smirking. he scrubs at the board a little more vigorously.

“bad word !” you tease, giggling as you point at him “ 'm gonna tell miss you said a cuss word again !”

he huffs, turning around to scrunch his nose up and stick his tongue out at you, you stick yours out back playfully. “as if i care ! yer too much of a wuss to snitch on me anyways.”

“no I’m not, i’ll do it right now !” katsuki rolls his red eyes at you, returning to his task and wiping the board down in a zig zag motion. “ i don’t care” he reiterates.

you pout at his back and just then get an idea you’re sure will piss him off, a cat like grin pulls at your lips.

“okaaayy … then i’ll just tell your mom !” you sing, bursting into giggles when he swiftly turns around and waves the wet sponge in your direction. he’s too far to reach you but you dodge anyway, just to mess with him.

“no you won’t.”

“yeah, i will !” you counter, blowing a raspberry at him. you both break out into a fit of giggles when he aggressively dips the sponge into the water and flicks the droplets at you once more, before he decides to close the distance and chase you around your cramped little classroom growling and screaming, threatening you with the dirty sponge.

you’re squealing and giggling and laughing, trying to fend him off with a broom and even then, at ten. then when the concept of cherishing memories of the time you spend together wasn’t even an afterthought in his mind, katsuki remembers wishing he could stay with you like this forever.

when you’re both out of breath the classroom is just as messy—if not messier than it usually is. you give eachother a look then belly laugh some more.

you’re picking up chairs again and katsuki’s helping you, so it goes even faster. you don’t wanna go home because you won’t be seeing him anymore, but you have to admit your eager to finish and leave school.

katsuki’s back is to you on the second row and he can’t see you looking at him from the back row, he decides it’s time he says what he wanted to say before you got distracted. he clutches the legs of the chair he’s holding a little tighter.

“hey,” his voice comes suddenly in the quiet, it surprises you a little, you hum in response “ 'm really gonna go pro when we’re done with school, y’know.” he insisted.

you tilt your head wearily, looking at him with his back still turned to you. “yeah, i know.” you respond “you said that already.” you’re confused, he can’t hear the scrapping noise of the wooden chairs anymore, it’s annoyingly too quiet now.

“ you’re coming with me” he pauses, turning to you a little so you catch a peak of his quickly reddening face. it sounds like a statement but even then you know better. you don’t miss a beat, nodding furiously “uhuh, always !” his cheeks flare up more as he turns fully towards you. he walks over until the only thing separating you is the desk in between. he turns his back to you again to lean against the desk seperating you both.

“you’ll be with me, and we’ll be pro's together” he maintained. he feels his chest tighten when you offer him more of your pretty bright smiles and nods, you smile at him the way he knows you don’t with the other boys in class who are stupid enough to think they deserve even a second of your time and it makes him feel a little bit more confident as he speaks more clearly “a-and I’ll be number one, and you’ll be number two. but not behind me, with me, yknow ?” he feels stupid for having to explain himself but you don’t mind, as long as you can stay with katsuki you don’t mind which number you are. you move across the table so you can stand next to him. you nod and he let's out a little huff and a smile starts pulling at his mouth.

"a-and" he gulps " 'n then—i'll marry you."

it's quiet for just moment.

and then you register what he said and feel your entire body heat up.

"w-wha ?! " you sputter "marry me ?!" your wide eyes startle him as he glances at you but refuses to look over again. he's red to the tips of his ears, pulling at the bottom of his now longer tucked in shirt. despite the growing lump in his throat, he nods.

"mhm," he kicks at an eraser laying on the floor, the only noise heard coming from it hitting a wall a little further. you don't see where, you're still looking at him. " my ma says i can't do it now, since it's...illegal, or something." he scoffs dissaprovingly "b-but..when 'm older," he sucks in a breath, then suddenly turns to you causing you to sit up straighter in suprise, you feel your hands gripping the desk tighter and tighter as your face feels more and more on fire. "when i'm older—i'll do it. that way, none of those other losers will look at you."

he looks way more flustered than you but he's sitting up straight still, eyes determined and unwavering and it knocks the wind out of you, because for as long as you can remember katsuki's been the coolest.

there's absolutely no doubt in your mind he's embarrassed. if his face wasn't a dead give away, his posture and demeanor give it away just as much. you've known him for a long time now, since you were 6 years old and he had walked up to you. little newbie you, who had transferred in the middle of the school year and with nobody to play with. he was there, head held high with his friends in tow behind him, demanding to know what your quirk was and the rest was history.

katsuki persists even when he knows the odds are low, he perseveres and keeps kicking and punching and blowing up everything in his path where anyone else would've given up while they had the chance. like when he fought against those 4th graders while you were all still only in 2nd grade. his face was all messed up and he had a nosebleed, but he ended up winning. because he swore he would keep winning.

'cus that's what heroes do.'

katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'd win. even here, when he isn't fighting, instead confessing to you. he's red-faced, embarrassed out of his mind and nervous, but his shoulders are squared and there's no doubt in his eyes after he had just told you he would marry you. when he thought about being older, he thought about you being there with him.

and even after what you'd heard all you can think is that your katsuki is so cool.

so with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty little cramped classroom, you give him your response.

"mhm ! "

katsuki thinks about his last year of middle school.

today's the last day of your middle school life before you go off to high school and katsuki couldn't be happier to leave this shitty school. he's 15 now. older, but besides his features, remained the same (to you, at least) .

it's your last day and you finish it off with cleaning duty, ironically, and he remembers that day back in elementary. then proceeds to shake it off, hoping to shake off the embarrassing memories. but it doesn't seem to work because it feels like the universe is seriously fucking with him.

you're the one tasked with cleaning duty again and with your cleaning buddy, yet again, being nowhere to be found. katsuki yet again staying behind to help you out. and again, katsuki has absolutely no idea where your buddy went and has absolutely nothing to do with it. at all.

it shouldn't be anything new, he stays and helps, albeit begrudingly, every time you have cleaning duty. but it feels different somehow. katsuki chalks it up to it being the end of the year.

the only difference from last time is you actually finish in record time. usually, that would've been great news, less time at school and even more free time katsuki can spend with you.

but you're quiet today.

you usually chat his ear off, and just because it's you, he chat's right back. wether you're messing around teasing each other or just talking about your day at school or who's house you're staying over at for the afternoon and which movie you're watching, you're always talking about something. it's comforting where he'd usually think it to be annoying with anyone else. but they aren't you.

and he doesn't like it.

when you finish you reach for your bag sitting neatly on top of your desk but katsuki stops you, grabbing your wrist. the feel of your soft skin has him involentarily flushing lightly, he ignores it in favor of squeezing your wrist when you don't immediately look back at him.

"what's up with you ?" he questioned gruffly. it comes out harsh, but that's not what you hear. you've known katsuki for a long time, after all. he's worried, you can tell. his words are rough around the edges but his eyes are soft, filled with care and the soft stroke of his thumb against you skin sends slight shivers down your spine when you turn to look at him shyly.

you open your mouth to deny him, but he can practically read your mind "don't give me that 'nothinngg' bullshit" your nose scrunches at the way his voice raises in pitch as he crudely mimicks you and a little smirk pulls at his face for only a moment before it falls again " don't go lyin' to me. know i hate that shit" he rasped.

you sigh, he's known you just as long as you'd known him after all.

you lean against your desk and he copies you, your shoulders brushing as he scoots himself a little closer to you. you jump up a little to sit on your desk, you're the same height as him like this. he scoots a little closer and turns to look at you, placing his hands on your desk to lean on it, fingers inches away from yours.

"i just—" you faltered "this our last day of school. when the day is over we'll be high schoolers." you stated. katsuki scoffs jokingly and leans a bit closer to you "what ? you tellin' me youre gonna miss this dump ? last i heard, you were the first one who wanted to leave so you wouldn't have to deal with mr. nakamura anymore." he jests, trying to lighten the mood as best he could, the worry in his eyes still shining bright. a smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you huff out a little giggle.

"yeah well, i won't be missing mr. nakamura. or his stupid tests" you pretend to shiver as you cringe "at all." katsuki let's out a cute chuckle. he's like a magnet, you feel yourself scooting closer to where he's leaning next to you, like you're being pulled closer to him, you don't mind. you never mind being close to katsuki.

"but..?" he coaxed, knowing that wasn't all you wanted to say.

"but.." you continue "but i'll miss this, yknow ? like—the school itself wasn't..the best" katsuki scoffs in response but doesn't interrupt "the teachers weren't either. but—i dunno—this. being here." you confess, you stare down at your shoes as you kicks your legs aimlessly into the air " we've spent such a long time here, and now we're leaving. we went from being the youngest—to the oldest, to going back to being the youngest again, and that in itself isn't the problem.."

"then what is ?" he raises a brow.

"we're gonna be in a completely different school, with completely different people—"

"but we'll be together." he interrupts "you said you wanted to go to ua too" you said you were gonna stay with me is what he wants to say, but it's childish and that wouldn't be fair to you.

"of course, i still do !" you reassure "but—there'll be tons of new, strong, cool people at ua.."

"maybe even stronger and cooler than me.." you trail off. you don't need to say more for katsuki to understand what you mean and it pissed him off.

"shut up." he growls.

"katsuki—"

"no. shut the fuck up." he's right in front of you before you can blink. you reflexively part your legs and he takes the opportunity to stand even closer to you, right in your space. you feel your cheeks warm at the proximity, you’re close enough to see it's apparently affecting him too, his cheeks turning a cute pink but as stubborn as your katsuki is he doesn't budge. as usual.

you don't exactly know what you and katsuki are. you know you like him, you know you have for a long time. and you'd like to believe he likes you too. he doesn't act the way he does with you the way he does with his other friends (or his lackeys as he calls them, you're the only one he openly calls his friend) but he doesn't really have anyone close to him besides you, so you don't know if he'd act this way with someone else.

the thought leaves a nasty taste in your mouth, so you decide to focus on something else. something else being katsuki, of course, he's all up in your space. his gaze not allowing you to look or even think about anything else but him.

"who i meet at ua doesn't fuckin' matter, they'll all be weaksauce compared to me anyway" he states smugly, causing you to huff out a laugh again " i don't care if theyre cool, or strong" his nose scrunches up in disgust as he quips venomously "i don't care about any of that—and i don't hang out with you because of that either—i fuckin' care about you because you're you."

your heart stutters.

" what, you think i hang out witcha because of superficial shit like that ? you mockin' me or something ?"

"no, no course not !" you insist, shaking your head.

" exactly, so don't..." he huffs, looking away from you towards the ground, there's a random eraser lying on the ground and he kicks it "don't go saying dumb shit like that."

"i don't waste my time with just anyone, 's why i'm wastin' it with your ass" he jokes, chuckling when you squeeze his nose in response. supressing a smile you whine at him when he leans forward to bite yours.

"katsuki, you're gross !" you giggle as you push at his face, he smiles lightly at the sound of your laughter, one of his favorite sounds. "ya started it." he disputes weakly, his smile turning into a smirk when you groan and then it falls again as he looks at you seriously.

" but seriously" he starts "i mean it, y'know. don't just say shit to say it"

"i know" you smile. he grunts in acknowledgement then continues.

"i don't care about how cool those future ua asshats are gonna be. you're different, you're not like that—i mean—that's not what i look at—what i see with you" he fumbles around for his words and groans, slamming his forehead against your shoulder. you're used to katsuki being physical, but that was usually when he was being annoying, pinching and prodding and biting at you. he's rarely ever this affectionate. it's different, but nice..really nice, so you savor it while you can. your fingers twitch a little closer to his and you decide to take a leap of faith, placing your hands ontop of his. he flinches and you're about to pull back when he grips your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. you feel him huff into your uniform. his hair tickles as he shuffles his head deeper inside your shoulder.

"you're not like those other losers, y'not like anyone" he explains "you're—when you're around it's like you're glowing. you're bright and when you talk, everyone sorta—gets pulled towards you like you're some typa magnet" his hands get warmer against yours as he speaks. you're surprised that he sees you this way, when that's practically the same way you see him.

" you pull people in so easily, and it pisses me off that you don't realise it. you are strong, and cool and everything else but that's not all you are. s'not all i care about."

"you're annoying. and whiney. extremely annoying, actually" he chuckles, and you pull at his ear "but—" he continues "but you're..fun to be around or whatever, wouldn't be around you otherwise. you're too fuckin' nice and your taste in music isn't bad" katsuki grumbles.

he wants to say more, so much more. he wants to say he thinks the way you immerse yourself when you're watching a movie together is adorable. the way you hold yourself back from commenting during the movie so as not to be annoying, even thought he could listen to you naming street signs and never get bored. the way your eyes light up when you get your grade back for a test you had studied your ass off for, when you come to him showing off your hard work it makes him want to hold you and never let go. he wants to say the way you're not scared to banter and bicker with him, the way your nose scrunches up when you try to hold in your laughter when he passes you a crudely drawn picture of your homeroom teacher, the way you smile at him whenever you see him, whenever he shares his umbrella or your lunches even though you have your own and he has his, makes him want to kiss you silly.

he wants to say all this and more, but he knows the words won't come out right, they never do. but somehow you understand and it's another thing he admires—that he loves about you.

"i...didn't know you felt that way" is all you can quietly muster up. you're cute, he feels you squeezing his hands a little tighter " yeah you didn't, cus i didn't tell you" he ribbed. you huff out a 'dont be annoying" gruffly and he chuckles. the asshole.

your asshole, though, your heart decides.

you're both quiet, everything is quiet and you're happy, reassured. you'd be happy if this is where the conversation ended but katsuki never fails to surprise you today it seemed.

" 'sides" he squeezes your hands tighter "i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ? how can i do that if i'm not around you, hah ?"

you're heart skips approximately three beats at the memory of his promise and you lean back to look at his fully red cheeks and his fleeing eyes.

"you still remember that ?" you ask incredulously. he rolls his eyes but you can tell it's simply to save face as he responds " of course i do. wasn't that long ago."

"but—we were like—ten when that happened. "

"so ?" he responds simply "doesn't change nothin'. i told you, i don't say shit to just say it."

you're flustered and so utterly confused, but there's a happy feeling bubbling in your stomach at his words " but we're not even dating !"

"we're not ?" of course not , he knows he hadn't properly asked you to be his girlfriend. but he figured if he talked about the memory that seemed to refuse being pushed aside, he could casually sneak by what he was too embarrassed to ask. but of course, you never make it easy for him.

"no, we aren't" you pout, crossing your arms at him. he grumbles, reaching to pull your arms away from your chest but you're stubborn, he was right about you being extremely annoying. "cut that out," he hissed.

"mm-mm ! " you shake your head "you can't just decide we're together. i didn't even know you liked me like that.." you trail off shyly. katsuki looks utterly baffled "hah?! whaddya mean you didn't know ? you don't see me actin' like this with anyone else do you ?"

"that's cus you're mean to everyone else !" you choked out, puffing your cheeks out at him.

"well yeah ! but—that's the thing, i'm not mean to you !" he defends, faltering when you raise a brow at him "fuck off, m'not that mean ! i'm just messing with you !" he rebutted. you simply roll your eyes at him and after a moment he sighs.

"fine" he concedes "i should've told you i liked you, i don't just decide that i want you to be my girlfriend when it's convenient for me or something" he keeps quiet about how you could of also told him you liked him as well for now, for fear of you getting moody at him again.

you still look away from him and he groans "hey c'mon, look at me." he utters sincerely. after a minute, you offer him a glance and he takes his opportunity, turning your face towards him, holding back a grin when he feels how warm your cheeks are.

"do you...wanna be my girlfriend ?" he stammers, looking at you with his red cheeks and bashful red eyes, and yet his gaze doesn't falter.

so cool.

it's your last day of middle school, your last day before you go off to a different school with different people. but with your katsuki by your side, and that's all that matters to you.

and with a bright smile, bright eyes and the summer sun slowly setting in your empty classroom, you give him your response by pressing your lips to his softly.

katsuki thinks about the night before today, when you'd knocked at his door in the dead of night.

usually, on any other day, he'd have scolded you for being up so late but would've ended up letting you in anyway. but lately, things hadn't been as they had been before..everything happened. and he could tell you were upset, so he simply let you in without a word.

you take the liberty of laying down in his bed like you used to back at his house and back at the dorms. he doesn't mind. it feels familiar, comforting.

he lies down next to you and you immediately latch onto him, seeking his warmth. with your head in his chest, you hold onto him tightly, like he'll dissapear if you don't. he clings to you just as tightly.

"what's up with you ?" he mumbles sleepily, softer than when he would've if he were more awake, but still focusing all of his attention onto you.

he feels you shake against his chest "jus' wanted to be wif you" he hears you mumbles. he presses his lips to the top of your head, pressing a sweet little kiss onto it as you breathe "you know that's bullshit." he reprimands, he feels you squeeze him tighter. he squeezes your waist twice, his warm hands running up and down your sides "c'mon, talk to me" he prodded

you look up at him and he looks down at you. your eyes are glossy, he can tell even in the dark and he's sure you were crying a little. his theory is confirmed when he hears you let out a little sniffle, his heart breaks at the sound. his heart breaks even more when you squeeze your eyes shut, gripping at the front of his shirt.

"baby," he pleads softly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, mouth and cheeks when you whine. "tell me what's bothering you, yeah ?"

"m'just—you're gonna be fighting tomorrow, and we all are and i know you're strong but you'll be in the front lines against him" you blubbered, you hiccup as tears roll down your cheeks " and i know you're strong. but katsu, i can't—" you gasp. he shushes you softly, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips. he knows what you're gonna say, he knows you're worried. he's known you for so long after all.

he hated himself the day he woke up after the first war. when he woke up to you crying at his side, with you yourself still being injured. he hates how much he worried you that day and he knows that the fleeting glances you give him whenever you have a briefing with the pro's, the way you stare off at nothing whenever you catch a glimpse of his scars, are all out of worry for him. he did the same after he had found out you had also been heavily injured during the brawl, so he can't say he wouldn't do the same way.

"baby, babe—look at me" he intones softly, grabbing onto your tear stained cheeks to get you to look at him, he's close so he's sure you can see him despite the darkness. he can't help pressing another kiss to your lips " nothing's gonna happen, okay ?" he reassures, rubbing your cheek softly.

"i can't see you like that again, katsuki. i just can't" you whimper, leaning into his hand.

"you won't, promise you won't." he vows. he knows you're even more worried because you'll both be in different areas and he hates he won't be able to keep his eye on you. but you're strong and cool and everything else, so he trusts you'll be okay "i need you to trust me"

"i do" you sniffle, taking a deep breath "i do trust you, but i just—don't wanna see you get hurt, kacchan"

he sighs softly, staring at you lovingly as he pulls you towards his chest. you nuzzle against him and he presses his mouth to the side of your head. "i can't promise i won't be gettin' hurt, s'gonna happen on the job" he says carefully, rubbing your back "but i promise i'll always come back to you. no matter how fucked up i get, i'll win. for you." he declares, feeling you shove your head deeper against his shoulder.

you remember how despite getting extremely injured by shigaraki, he recovered in record time. it seemed nothing could stop your boyfriend from proving to the world he was the best. because katsuki fights and keeps fighting even if you think the odds are low, because he doesn't. because to him, there's absolutely no doubt in his mind he'll win.

and despite the worry and the fear gnawing at you, you can't help but think your katsuki is so fucking cool.

so you nod against his shoulder and he feels the collar of his shirt grow wet, but he doesn't mind as your grip on him loosens lightly until you can feel yourself falling asleep.

before you fall though, you hear katsuki speak.

"besides, i promised you i'd marry you didn't i ?"

he feels you smile into his neck, and you give him your response by happily nodding into his shoulder with a hum.

in his final moments, katsuki thinks of you.

he thinks of the promises he's made. he thinks of the promise he made to his old hag to not cause you, such a sweet girl, too much trouble. he remembers the promise he made to his old man to stay safe while he went out on patrol and when he'd fight against shigaraki for the second time. he remembers the promise he made to himself to get his limited edition all might card signed one day. and he remembers the promise he'd made when he said he'd always, always come back to you.

and he remembers the promise he'd made to marry you. the promise that you both would be together and none of the other losers would look at you.

so when he awakens, katsuki doesn't bother to ask why or how.

he simply fights and keeps fighting, so he can win, no matter how fucked up he gets.

and always, always come back to you.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Google is (still) losing the spam wars to zombie news-brands

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT (May 3) in CALGARY, then TOMORROW (May 4) in VANCOUVER, then onto Tartu, Estonia, and beyond!

Even Google admits – grudgingly – that it is losing the spam wars. The explosive proliferation of botshit has supercharged the sleazy "search engine optimization" business, such that results to common queries are 50% Google ads to spam sites, and 50% links to spam sites that tricked Google into a high rank (without paying for an ad):

https://developers.google.com/search/blog/2024/03/core-update-spam-policies#site-reputation

It's nice that Google has finally stopped gaslighting the rest of us with claims that its search was still the same bedrock utility that so many of us relied upon as a key piece of internet infrastructure. This not only feels wildly wrong, it is empirically, provably false:

https://downloads.webis.de/publications/papers/bevendorff_2024a.pdf

Not only that, but we know why Google search sucks. Memos released as part of the DOJ's antitrust case against Google reveal that the company deliberately chose to worsen search quality to increase the number of queries you'd have to make (and the number of ads you'd have to see) to find a decent result:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

Google's antitrust case turns on the idea that the company bought its way to dominance, spending the some of the billions it extracted from advertisers and publishers to buy the default position on every platform, so that no one ever tried another search engine, which meant that no one would invest in another search engine, either.

Google's tacit defense is that its monopoly billions only incidentally fund these kind of anticompetitive deals. Mostly, Google says, it uses its billions to build the greatest search engine, ad platform, mobile OS, etc that the public could dream of. Only a company as big as Google (says Google) can afford to fund the R&D and security to keep its platform useful for the rest of us.

That's the "monopolistic bargain" – let the monopolist become a dictator, and they will be a benevolent dictator. Shriven of "wasteful competition," the monopolist can split their profits with the public by funding public goods and the public interest.

Google has clearly reneged on that bargain. A company experiencing the dramatic security failures and declining quality should be pouring everything it has to righting the ship. Instead, Google repeatedly blew tens of billions of dollars on stock buybacks while doing mass layoffs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Those layoffs have now reached the company's "core" teams, even as its core services continue to decay:

https://qz.com/google-is-laying-off-hundreds-as-it-moves-core-jobs-abr-1851449528

(Google's antitrust trial was shrouded in secrecy, thanks to the judge's deference to the company's insistence on confidentiality. The case is moving along though, and warrants your continued attention:)

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/the-2-trillion-secret-trial-against

Google wormed its way into so many corners of our lives that its enshittification keeps erupting in odd places, like ordering takeout food:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Back in February, Housefresh – a rigorous review site for home air purifiers – published a viral, damning account of how Google had allowed itself to be overrun by spammers who purport to provide reviews of air purifiers, but who do little to no testing and often employ AI chatbots to write automated garbage:

https://housefresh.com/david-vs-digital-goliaths/

In the months since, Housefresh's Gisele Navarro has continued to fight for the survival of her high-quality air purifier review site, and has received many tips from insiders at the spam-farms and Google, all of which she recounts in a followup essay:

https://housefresh.com/how-google-decimated-housefresh/

One of the worst offenders in spam wars is Dotdash Meredith, a content-farm that "publishes" multiple websites that recycle parts of each others' content in order to climb to the top search slots for lucrative product review spots, which can be monetized via affiliate links.

A Dotdash Meredith insider told Navarro that the company uses a tactic called "keyword swarming" to push high-quality independent sites off the top of Google and replace them with its own garbage reviews. When Dotdash Meredith finds an independent site that occupies the top results for a lucrative Google result, they "swarm a smaller site’s foothold on one or two articles by essentially publishing 10 articles [on the topic] and beefing up [Dotdash Meredith sites’] authority."

Dotdash Meredith has keyword swarmed a large number of topics. from air purifiers to slow cookers to posture correctors for back-pain:

https://housefresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/keyword-swarming-dotdash.jpg

The company isn't shy about this. Its own shareholder communications boast about it. What's more, it has competition.

Take Forbes, an actual news-site, which has a whole shadow-empire of web-pages reviewing products for puppies, dogs, kittens and cats, all of which link to high affiliate-fee-generating pet insurance products. These reviews are not good, but they are treasured by Google's algorithm, which views them as a part of Forbes's legitimate news-publishing operation and lets them draft on Forbes's authority.

This side-hustle for Forbes comes at a cost for the rest of us, though. The reviewers who actually put in the hard work to figure out which pet products are worth your money (and which ones are bad, defective or dangerous) are crowded off the front page of Google and eventually disappear, leaving behind nothing but semi-automated SEO garbage from Forbes:

https://twitter.com/ichbinGisele/status/1642481590524583936

There's a name for this: "site reputation abuse." That's when a site perverts its current – or past – practice of publishing high-quality materials to trick Google into giving the site a high ranking. Think of how Deadspin's private equity grifter owners turned it into a site full of casino affiliate spam:

https://www.404media.co/who-owns-deadspin-now-lineup-publishing/

The same thing happened to the venerable Money magazine:

https://moneygroup.pr/

Money is one of the many sites whose air purifier reviews Google gives preference to, despite the fact that they do no testing. According to Google, Money is also a reliable source of information on reprogramming your garage-door opener, buying a paint-sprayer, etc:

https://money.com/best-paint-sprayer/

All of this is made ten million times worse by AI, which can spray out superficially plausible botshit in superhuman quantities, letting spammers produce thousands of variations on their shitty reviews, flooding the zone with bullshit in classic Steve Bannon style:

https://escapecollective.com/commerce-content-is-breaking-product-reviews/

As Gizmodo, Sports Illustrated and USA Today have learned the hard way, AI can't write factual news pieces. But it can pump out bullshit written for the express purpose of drafting on the good work human journalists have done and tricking Google – the search engine 90% of us rely on – into upranking bullshit at the expense of high-quality information.

A variety of AI service bureaux have popped up to provide AI botshit as a service to news brands. While Navarro doesn't say so, I'm willing to bet that for news bosses, outsourcing your botshit scams to a third party is considered an excellent way of avoiding your journalists' wrath. The biggest botshit-as-a-service company is ASR Group (which also uses the alias Advon Commerce).

Advon claims that its botshit is, in fact, written by humans. But Advon's employees' Linkedin profiles tell a different story, boasting of their mastery of AI tools in the industrial-scale production of botshit:

https://housefresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Advon-AI-LinkedIn.jpg

Now, none of this is particularly sophisticated. It doesn't take much discernment to spot when a site is engaged in "site reputation abuse." Presumably, the 12,000 googlers the company fired last year could have been employed to check the top review keyword results manually every couple of days and permaban any site caught cheating this way.

Instead, Google is has announced a change in policy: starting May 5, the company will downrank any site caught engaged in site reputation abuse. However, the company takes a very narrow view of site reputation abuse, limiting punishments to sites that employ third parties to generate or uprank their botshit. Companies that produce their botshit in-house are seemingly not covered by this policy.

As Navarro writes, some sites – like Forbes – have prepared for May 5 by blocking their botshit sections from Google's crawler. This can't be their permanent strategy, though – either they'll have to kill the section or bring it in-house to comply with Google's rules. Bringing things in house isn't that hard: US News and World Report is advertising for an SEO editor who will publish 70-80 posts per month, doubtless each one a masterpiece of high-quality, carefully researched material of great value to Google's users:

https://twitter.com/dannyashton/status/1777408051357585425

As Navarro points out, Google is palpably reluctant to target the largest, best-funded spammers. Its March 2024 update kicked many garbage AI sites out of the index – but only small bottom-feeders, not large, once-respected publications that have been colonized by private equity spam-farmers.

All of this comes at a price, and it's only incidentally paid by legitimate sites like Housefresh. The real price is borne by all of us, who are funneled by the 90%-market-share search engine into "review" sites that push low quality, high-price products. Housefresh's top budget air purifier costs $79. That's hundreds of dollars cheaper than the "budget" pick at other sites, who largely perform no original research.

Google search has a problem. AI botshit is dominating Google's search results, and it's not just in product reviews. Searches for infrastructure code samples are dominated by botshit code generated by Pulumi AI, whose chatbot hallucinates nonexistence AWS features:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/05/01/pulumi_ai_pollution_of_search/

This is hugely consequential: when these "hallucinations" slip through into production code, they create huge vulnerabilities for widespread malicious exploitation:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/28/ai_bots_hallucinate_software_packages/

We've put all our eggs in Google's basket, and Google's dropped the basket – but it doesn't matter because they can spend $20b/year bribing Apple to make sure no one ever tries a rival search engine on Ios or Safari:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/google-payments-apple-reached-20-220947331.html

Google's response – laying off core developers, outsourcing to low-waged territories with weak labor protections and spending billions on stock buybacks – presents a picture of a company that is too big to care:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Google promised us a quid-pro-quo: let them be the single, authoritative portal ("organize the world’s information and make it universally accessible and useful"), and they will earn that spot by being the best search there is:

https://www.ft.com/content/b9eb3180-2a6e-41eb-91fe-2ab5942d4150

But – like the spammers at the top of its search result pages – Google didn't earn its spot at the center of our digital lives.

It cheated.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

Image: freezelight (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Spam_wall_-_Flickr_-_freezelight.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

[izurou]

“kats, you’re worse than i thought.”

this is the third weekend in a row that katsuki has gotten stuck with an overnight patrol—a gruelling twelve hours that starts friday evening at seven, and ends the following morning, at seven.

but, it’s just past five am—the sun is desperately trying to rise somewhere off in the distance, and you’re sitting beside your boyfriend, who is face down in bed—a little out of it, and in a lot of pain.

“how bad?” he mumbles, referring to his back—the spot that clearly took the brunt of whatever, or whoever it was that cut his night short.

you don’t ask for details. it doesn’t matter how he got here, just that he is here—that he would come back home after presumably being relieved of his duties by another hero from the agency, choosing to skip proper medical care altogether.

he’s earned himself a scolding for that little stunt, but it’ll have to wait. for now, your job is simple—do what you can to take his mind off of the ache pulsing up his spine.

“like, borderline slut, i would say.”

do whatever you can, to take his mind off of it.

“huh?” he cranes his neck to look at you, wincing as he moves, and through the dull orange hue of the candle sitting on your bedside table, you see his brows furrow, and his nose scrunch up.

he hit his head too hard, he must’ve.

“i’m serious, baby. you have one, two, three,” you start gently placing your finger over various spots on his back—stifling a laugh when you catch him staring at you, dumbfounded. “nine, ten, eleven.”

he tries to peer over his shoulder, but is quickly humbled by the persistent throb radiating from just above the waistband of his boxers.

“fuck,” he mutters, shoving his face back into his pillow with a groan. carefully, you run your fingers through his hair, and he turns his head to the side—peering up at you through tired eyes. “eleven?”

“eleven! and that’s just on your back,” you smile, and he knows you a little too well—he recognizes the glint of mischief behind your eyes too easily.

“the hell are you talking about?” he asks.

“look, you have one,” you pause and place your finger on his forearm, right next to a pigmented little circle—a beauty mark. “here, too.”

his gaze shifts back and forth between you and where you’re pointing, but he just can’t seem to connect his own dots.

“they’re places where your lover used to kiss you most often,” you explain as you lay down beside him. “you know, in all your past lives.”

oh, and because he has eleven on his back, he’s teetering on the edge of promiscuity? that has to be one of the single most ridiculous things he’s ever heard—and he spent three years at ua with kirishima and kaminari. but, it’s coming from you—so he finds it endearing all the same.

what a sweet way of seeing things, how very you.

“you made that up,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering shut momentarily as sleep threatens to swallow him whole.

“did not,” you insist, “i mean, look at izuku.”

katsuki simply snorts in response before shuffling around—bearing the intense pain as he rolls onto his back and motions for you to snuggle into him, because it’d hurt more to not have you close.

at least, that’s what he’d say if he was a romantic—someone who’s beauty mark numbers are in the single digits.

“how many lovers do you think he’s had?” you hum, running a hand across katsuki’s chest in a soothing motion.

“none.”

“oh? two hundred you say?”

he sighs this time, muttering a shaddup under his breath as he allows his eyes to close once more. he’d like to leave it at that and drift off into dream world, but you follow up with a sentence that makes his heart flutter.

“don’t worry kats, none of them were me,” you laugh, like music to his ears—his favourite song. he can’t help the boyish grin that creeps onto his lips, and he thanks his lucky stars that you aren’t looking.

though your words make him wonder, if you were ever his in a past life—maybe you’ve always been his. yeah, he likes the sound of that, even if it is the single most ridiculous thought he’s ever had—it’s you, so he’ll think of it forever.

“good,” he says—feeling your weight shift a little, and when he opens his eyes, you’re there.

you’re close, inches away from his face, and you get even closer—pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, one that seemingly numbs him from the inside out, taking away his pain for that brief moment.

and as you both settle back down—snug in each other’s arms, he thinks he can finally fall victim to his drowsiness.

but you have one last burning question.

“baby, do i have permission to count izuku’s?”

“not even in your next fuckin’ life.”

[samkerrworshipper]

initiation | barca femeni x reader

part 2 -> part 1

warnings: pure smut and filth

this is not made for anybody under the age of 18, you are responsible for your own digital consumption.

Lucy opens the door without any hesitation, and almost as soon as she does the silence is broken by the sounds of a series of gasps and moans.

It bounces off of the walls surrounding you, and you jolt a little bit when it finally makes it to your eardrums.

“Lucia, te tomaste tu tiempo.” Lucy, took your time

Lucy steps into the room, and it gives you your first view of what’s happening.

“Buenos Noches.”

Keira’s hand grabs onto your own, pulling you into the room with her.

Your eyes flash around at a hundred miles an hour, taking in all of your surroundings.

It’s a oddly set up space, which makes you think that it’s been preorganised specifically for this. It’s a overly open living space, a kitchen to the left as you walk in, but the rest of the living room is completely empty besides massive couches that really are the size of beds.

The lounge room is massive, but the big couches and seats surround the space.

It’s not the couches that actually capture your attention though, it’s all of the women on them.

Everybody is in different stages of undress, and doing different things, it takes a few seconds for you to absorb.

Then, you spot an actual bed sitting about ten metres in front of the couch, pushed up against a wall.

It’s a big bed, but the size of the bed definitely isn’t what captures your attention.

It’s whats happening on it, which is enough to make your eyes almost fall out of their sockets.

There are three people on it, people you quickly recognise as Mapi, Aitana and Ingrid.

Aitana is crammed between the two women, Ingrid’s behind her and Mapi in front.

Mapi’s mouth is directly on her clit, whilst Ingrid is fucking her soundly and roughly from behind.

You feel rude for staring but you also can’t manage to tear your eyes away from the view directly in front of you.

It’s the definition of erotic, watching as Aitana’s mouth goldfishes open and closed as the two women work away at her happily.

“Hola carino, come over here.”

It takes you a nudge from Keira to realise that Alexia is talking to you.

The captain is sitting on a couch, alone besides the fact that Jenni is on her knees in front of her licking gently at her.

Besides from that Alexia still has a bra on, a fairly simple but beautiful black lace piece that looks perfect against her tanned skin.

With a push from Keira you walk over to her, unsure how to approach.

She opens up her arms to you though, and you carefully, without disrupting Jenni climb into her lap, resting on top of one of her ridiculously muscular thighs.

It gives you a perfect view at what is happening below you, but you can’t help but let your eyes wander.

Keira and Lucy have already joined Pina and Patri in the corner of one of the couches, the two had been lazily making out but upon the appearance of the other couple they’ve now begun to kiss each other, with pina now grinding down on Lucy’s lap and Keira below a Patri who has straddled her and has her mouth on her neck and chest.

On the other side of the couch, Ona, the other newbie who you know from Man U is in the arms of Caro, Marta and Frido, who are all touching her in different places. Ona looks completely blissed out, something you hope to feel soon.

After you are done observing everybody else, your eyes naturally fall back to the bed, where Ingrid and Mapi are still going at it with Aitana, who looks like she’s on a completely different planet to everybody else.

“You like what you see, bebita?”

You absentmindedly nod at Alexia, your lip between your teeth as you continue to keep your eyes on the two women.

“Y’know, I’m sure Ingrid and Mapi would be happy to give you the same treatment, they like to reward pretty girls like yourself for being so good.”

The praise has you weak from below the knees, your tense body slowly relaxing against Alexia’s.

“Really?”

You’re well aware that you’ve been told multiple times that people are interested in having fun with you, but that doesn’t mean you find it easy to accept.

“Oh si, ellas están muy desesperadas por ti.” oh yes, they are very desperate for you

You understand that Spanish well enough, even if you don’t know the words. The way it falls from Alexia’s tongue is enough of an indicator.

“How about Jenni and I get you nice and ready for them then?”

You look down at jenni, she’s taken a break from Alexia to look up at you, a big smile on her face, which is glistening with what you assume to be Alexia’s juices.

“O-Okay.”

Alexia beams at you, her smile big and bright as she fiddles with the material of your sweater in between her fingers.

“Let’s take this off, hmm?”

You nod shyly at Alexia, everything about this whole situation is completely different to your previous experiences, and it’s not that you don’t like it but you can’t deny the fact that it’s making you feel a little bit anxious.

Alexia begins to tug the jumper up, over your stomach and then over your head.

You feel exposed, and your hands gravitate up to cover the skin almost immediately, but Alexia’s own hands grab at your wrists, pulling them down to rest at your waist, before you can protest Alexia’s lips are on your neck, biting at the exposed skin around your bra.

“So pretty carino, red is definitely your colour.”

Her praise makes your hands relax, allowing her to manhandle you on her lap so you are resting directly on her hips, your legs parted on top of hers.

“Is it okay if Jenni takes off your pants, carino?”

You nod your head, looking down at Jenni as her hands hook into the waistband of your sweats and begging to gently tug them down your legs, you lift your hips up for her, allowing her to slip them off with ease and reveal the matching lace panties underneath.

Jenni groans, and it makes you feel a little bit more confident, as the Spaniard looks at you like you are a meal to be eaten.

Once your pants are off and resting on the floor somewhere, she parts your legs properly, so they are hanging off of Alexia’s, leaving you exposed to the room.

Subconsciously, you are aware that there are eyes on you, but it doesn’t really set in for you because all of your attention is on Jenni, watching as she gently begins to litter kisses up the insides of your thighs.

It elicits a series of dirty noises to fall from your mouth, breathy groans as Alexia continues to nip at your neck and collar bone whilst Jenni worships the skin between your thighs.

“P-please.”

Your voice is quiet, quiet enough amongst all of the noise in the room that you aren’t sure whether you’re heard.

“What do you want carino?”

You groan as Alexia’s lips move further up your neck, somehow, even from behind you she manages to get the perfect angle, her neck craning around your own to peck at the sensitive skin.

“P-please.”

You’re brain is short circuiting, all you can do is look down at Jenni with complete disbelief as her lips nibble at the edges of your panties.

“You’re going to have to use your words carino, otherwise how are we supposed to know what you want?”

Alexia’s voice is teasing, a little bit mocking as her hands work their way up and down your hips, scratching up and down the skin, over and over again, every once and a while randomly they will stray up to your bra, drawing little circles around the underwire and lace trim.

“Jenni, please, more.”

Your words are murmured, your confidence still low as you work up the courage to ask for exactly what you want.

“More of this?”

Jenni moves her lips further down your legs, closer to your knee, earning her a sigh of annoyance from you and a big shake of your head.

“I’m going to need you to be more specific then, bebita.”

Jenni is quite frankly, in your opinion, the picture of desire.

Resting on her knees, her feet tucked underneath her thighs, legs spread, juices dripping down her chin and a big wolfish smile on her face.

It’s an out of body experience in itself just to look at her, but to feel her own desire to please you, it’s something else completely.

“Jenni, please, anything just touch my pussy.”

You don’t like top use vulgar language, but you know that there isn’t going to be any way to get her to do what you want without asking for it directly, so you do.

You are granted immediate validation, Jenni’s hands reaching up from her sides to the waistband of your panties, tugging them down at a speed that even you don’t even realise that they are off until Jenni’s lips are pressed directly against your heat.

The feeling ignites something in you, Jenni, doesn’t miss a beat, her mouth applying a pressure to you clit that in your opinion is absolutely perfect.

She knows what she’s doing, she reads your body like it’s an open book, parting your lips and folds apart with her tongue.

You’re a moaning mess, your hips thrusting on top of Alexia’s as Jenni eats you out like you are her last meal, savouring every single part of you, parts you weren’t even sure existed being worshipped.

You’re to much of a mess to even realise Alexia’s unclipped your bra, until her lips are on your nipples, her two hands resting on your belly, just above Jenni’s head.

It’s so amny sensations, so many fireworks bursting all over your body with every touch, nip and lick. You understand now what Alexia had said, about all of this being an atmospheric experience, about the magic of being in a room full of women who are experiencing just as much pleasure as you are, it’s a whole other energy you’ve ever experienced.

You’ve played at a a Euro’s, you’ve played at a full Wembley, and yet it wouldn’t come anywhere near this, in any form of excitement or pleasure.

Jenni is a expert with her mouth, alternating between sucking at your clit with so much pressure that your eyes roll into the back of your head, and flicking her tongue in and out of your hole, slurping up any new juices that are coming from it.

“G-god feels so good.”

Jenni seems to take the praise as even more of an incentive, the pressure applied to your clit somehow increasing, making you thrust directly into her. Alexia’s grip on your stomach and hips is strong, holding you down directly against her but you can’t stop the movements.

“How good does she feel carino? Is she getting you all ready for Ingrid’s cock?”

Your eyes stray from Jenni, up to the bed, where Ingrid is still pounding into an almost lifeless Aitana, who looks so blissed out that you wonder if she’s even remotely on the same planet as any of you anymore.

“S-so good.”

Your words are stuttered out between moans, your mouth hanging wide open as you continue to watch Ingrid, Aitana is bobbing up and down with every single thrust, her body almost ragdolling, the only thing holding her up behind Mapi, who has her hands securely on her hips, her fingers rubbing big circles over Aitana’s clit.

Ingrid looks wild, her hair all splayed out and sweaty, sticking to her face and neck, not that she seems to mind, all of her focus is on Aitana and the dildo that is connecting their two bodies.

“Are you going to cum for us carino? Going to cum all over Jenni’s face? Be a good girl and cum for me.”

You don’t even really notice that you are on the edge until Alexia’s reminding you, and suddenly you feel it all wash over you, the coil in your stomach snug and tight as Jenni focuses on your clit, applying pressure with her tongue and moving it in deep, tight circles.

“G-gonna cum, please can I cum?”

Alexia’s lips focus on your nipples, one of her hands reaching up from your hips to pinch the other one.

“Such good manners, go ahead carino.”

In synchronisation, Alexia pinches your nipple just hard enough for the pain to turn into pure pleasure and Jenni sucks down on your clit so hard that you see stars.

The mixed sensations have your body thrashing, Alexia’s hands being the only thing to stop you from falling off of her lap.

It’s unlike any other orgasm you’ve ever experienced, everything heightens for a few seconds, and then it all comes crashing down, your body going limp and shaking, your toes curling and feet arching as Jenni pulls all of the aftershocks from your body with her mouth.

Her focused sucking turns into big licks, from your clit down to your hole, parting everything as she runs over and over the same stripe.

It doesn’t take you long to recover, your body slowly becoming more aware of its surroundings as Alexia’s lips and Jenni’s mouth slowly bring you back down to earth.

You’re over sensitive, so you begin to tug your hands from Alexia, reaching down to gently push Jenni’s face away from you, well aware that if she keeps going you’ll be forced into a premature orgasm that will be nowhere near as pleasurable as one that’s properly built up.

Jenni coos at you from down below, if you weren’t floating on a happy cloud then you’d probably find it a little bit condescending, which is a big juxtaposition considering that she’s on her knees below you.

“How was that, carino? Jenni is quite skilled with her mouth, if she could she’d spend every day of her life on her knees for a pretty girl like you.”

You want to say that Jenni most likely does spend a lot of her time on her knees for a pretty girl like Alexia, but the compliment is lost on your tongue.

“So good, thank you Jenni, I’m here any time you want.”

Everything is back into focus, and suddenly you feel overly shy, but also with all the endorphins rushing through you it’s hard to control your words until they are spilling out of your lips.

Alexia chuckles and Jenni just grins up at you, her hands resting on either side of your thighs whilst her mouth is blowing hot air directly onto you, it’s a nice sensation, less stimulating but still something.

“You are very welcome, bebita, I’ll definitely take you up on that in the future some time.”

You look over your shoulder at Alexia, who is just grinning at you.

“I don’t mind sharing, carino.”

You suddenly feel extremely shy, your head tucking itself into Alexia’s neck as you feel both the couples eyes on you.

“Is that not something that you’d want bebita, you don’t want to have some more fun with Jenni or I in the future?”

You shake your head into Alexia’s skin, it’s certainly something that you want, but it feels awkward asking for it, especially with the both of them staring intently at you.

“I need a verbal answer, carino.”

Alexia’s voice is a little bit taunting, she knows what she’s doing, trying to get a reaction out of you, and you play directly into it.

“If you guys wanted it, I’d be happy too.”

Alexia tugs your head out of her shoulder, just for her lips to hit yours as soon as they meet daylight. It’s a dominating kiss, Alexia taking over without any fight from you, it’s less sweet and soft to Keira and Lucy’s kiss, but the intention is all the same.

“Now, how about you go and put on a show for me, Ingrid, Mapi and Aitana are ready for you.”

You pull your lips from Alexia’s looking back over to the bed.

It’s a different scene to previously, Aitana is sat up the very top of the bed, pressed up against the headboards and pillows, her legs spread eagle whilst Ingrid and Mapi are sitting at the bottom of the bed, lazily making out. Aitana’s eyes are starry and glazed, she looks orgasm drunk, completely inebriated with whatever pleasure she’s experiencing.

“María, I have a present for you.”

Alexia gently pushes you out of her lap, your body stumbling towards the other couple as you adjust to the different sensation of walking. Your legs are wobbly per say, more so that your head feels a lot heavier on top of your body.

Mapi and Ingrid break apart, just in time for you to stagger your way in front of the mattress.

“Hola.”

You nod your head meekly at Mapi, it’s your first time meeting her, and the both of you are butt ass naked in a room full of women fucking.

Lucy has Pina bouncing up and down on her lap, whilst Patri has Keira sitting on the couch, one of her knees strung over Patri’s shoulder as she slowly but deeply fucks her, the couples are making out with each other diagonally across each others body. It’s something that you’d see in a porno, not in real life, and yet there they are, a couple of metres to the side of you. Whereas Ona is being stuffed to the brim, her pussy filled with a vibrator, ass stuffed with Caros fingers and mouth filled with Marta’s strap whilst Frido is softly grinding herself up and down Onas toned stomach. You can’t see her face, but you can picture it in your head, her face titled to a side, mouth filled with dick, her eyes full of ecstasy as she experiences all the different sensations, her own slobber dripping down her chin.

Mapi reaches out for you, guiding your eyes to her own.

“Tan bonita, did Jenni treat you well?”

You nod your head, unsure how to put what you just felt into words.

“She’s good with her mouth, the best way to shut that one up is to put her on her knees.”

You gulp, definitely unsure what to say to that, Mapi is smirking cavalierly, like she’s somehow getting off on your awkwardness.

“María, play nice, or else you won’t be getting your reward.”

Mapi almost immediately shrinks backwards, suddenly your attention is captured by Ingrid, the Norwegian woman’s voice is commanding and you can’t for the life of you ignore it.

“You’re quite a cute little thing aren’t you?”

Ingrid’s voice towards you is very different to how she’d been talking to Mapi, it’s gone up a few octaves, much softer, like she’s talking to a stray cat or a little kid.

“Mm not cute.”

Your words are gruff, more like you are trying to convince yourself not Ingrid, she breaks out into a big smile.

“Oh of course not, you’ve just got a cute little face and a cute little frown and cute little shaky legs.”

You feel your skin flush red, you feel like you’re under a microscope in front of her.

“Oh honey, don’t take it so seriously, I'm just teasing you, take it as a compliment, I find you very cute.”

You bite down on your lip, shivering when Ingrid’s hand comes up to your shoulder resting gently on it.

“Look at Tana, isn’t she so pretty all fucked out? You’d look so pretty like that, your body all spent from being stuffed full, do you want that? Want me and Mapi to fill you up all nice and full?”

You nod your head eagerly, Ingrid is still strapped up and fuck is it the most bewildering sight you’ve ever seen, she towers over you, literally looking like a goddess.

“Yes, please.”

Ingrid smiles at you, a big toothy smile, her thumb rubbing skilled circles into your shoulder muscles as she looks down at you.

“Such good manners, Lucia and Keira must have taught you so well. How about you hop up on the bed and show Tana what your mouth can do?”

You practically jump onto the bed, crawling your way up to the top, slowly clawing your way closer to the naked body in front of you.

Aitana is quite literally dripping, her thighs and the sheets below her soaked in what must be the multiple orgasms she’s already had.

Her body is completely limp, the only proof that she's alive is her chest rising up and down slowly. Little puffs of breath that leave her mouth every few seconds, like she’s trying to regain her composure but it’s a losing battle.

“Go ahead, amor.”

You look over your shoulder to Ingrid, who is nodding encouragingly at you.

You don’t want to disappoint her, so you swiftly turn your head back around, gazing down at the pussy sitting right in front of you.

Aitana’s clit is puffy and sticking out of its hood, a clear sign that she must be pretty sensitive, so to

begin with you sticking to the edges of her folds, gently running your flattened out tongue along the sides.

Her cum and arousal is a salty sweet taste, one that’s addicting and tastes exceptional on your tongue. When she moans, you jolt a little bit, surprised by the evidence that she is in fact alive and not completely passed out on the bed.

It eggs you on a bit, enough for you to move your tongue down to her hole and lick up the pool of arousal and cum from her previous orgasms.

Aitana’s arm's reach down to your scalp tugging at your hair gently, pulling you further into her and you let her.

It’s just as you begin to nudge your nose against her clit and probe her hole with your tongue that you feel a finger enter your own pussy.

Your back arches almost immediately, you’d felt the want in your stomach but having it finally be catered to is exceptional.

Ingrid’s finger is long and slender, and after a few slow strokes you are desperate for more.

You know they are Ingrid’s fingers, because in the very short amount of time that you’ve spent with your head in between Aitana’s legs, Mapi has managed to make her way up to the bed and straddle Aitana’s face, the Spaniard already rocking up and down the Ballon D’or winners face.

“More, please.”

Your words are hushed and mellowed out against Aitana’s sex, but Ingrid must hear them because on the next thrust she adds another finger.

It’s a little bit more of a stretch, but your body accommodates it with ease, Ingrid’s fingers slowly opening you up with every thrust of her fingers.

Aitana’s hands stay laced in your hair, tugging you up to her clit.

Her moans are now silenced by Mapi’s pussy, but the way her legs tremble on either side of your head and the way her hips cant up randomly every once in a while.

When ingrid leans over, breathing hot air directly into your ear, it makes your spine shiver.

“You want my cock baby girl? Want me to fuck you hard from behind? Make you scream my name into Tana’s pussy?”

You nod your head vigorously, your head nudging Aitana’s clit making her hips thrust up into your face.

“You make her cum and I’ll fuck you, how does that sound?”

It sounds like music to your ears, and as soon as the words have left Ingrid’s mouth you are diving into Aitana’s sex, sucking down on her clit.

She screams out, loud enough that it’s heard underneath Mapi’s pussy, chances are that she is very overstimulated and over sensitive and the sudden pressure is probably sending shock waves up and across her body.

You don’t give up though, to focused on your own impending pleasure, which is practically at a stand still with Ingrid’s fingers leisurely thrusting short and shallow into you.

It doesn’t take long for Aitana to get to the edge, you can tell because the shaking in her legs turns to spasms and they clench down on the sheets, as soon as this happens you bite down on her clit, not hard, but enough for it to be enough pressure for her legs to completely seize up.

As soon as it happens, Ingrid’s fingers disappear from your cunt and are replaced by the silicone cock slowly beginning to slide into you.

If you were a religious woman, you’d call whatever it was you were experiencing a godly encounter.

Ingrid didn’t waste any time, once she’d bottomed out in you with out any protests from you, she started to slowly fuck in and out of you.

You busied yourself with licking up the aftermath of Aitana’s orgasm, she was on a whole other level of over stimulation though, and you didn’t push it when she forced your head away from her thighs.

Instead Ingrid took a hold of your hair, pulling you up onto all fours as she began to thrust in and out of you at a faster pace.

“How does it feel being filled up with my cock amorcito? How does it feel to be my little cock slut, just another hole for me to use?”

Ingrid’s words are feral, and they only spur you on no further, your hips pushing back to meet her at every single thrust.

It’s inexplicably the most intense but perfect thing you’ve experienced in a while. Ingrid's hands on your waist are soft, but her words and thrusts are so rough, it’s a perfect balance between the two.

“I-Ingrid, please, faster.”

Your words are forced out between thrusts and moans, your mouth trying to articulate your desperation without it turning into a mess of sounds.

“Does my little cock slut want it harder? María, do you think she deserves it harder?”

You look up at Mapi, the Spaniard is lent up against the headboard, but she turns around to take a good look at you.

“I don’t know, is she being a good girl, or a bad girl like Onita over there?”

Your eyebrows raise up your forehead, and before you can even ask Ingrid is swivelling your body around, so you are met face to face with the sight of Ona, who is bent over the sofa, still stuffed with toys, whilst Alexia is spanking her with what looks to be a riding crop of some sort.

“This is what happens when you cum without permission, maldita puta.”

You cringe into yourself when the sound of the whip connecting with Ona’s skin rings out, the sound is almost immediately followed up with a moan, you aren’t sure whether it’s one of pain or pleasure, but the way that Ona’s hips push back to meet the leather tells you that she definitely doesn’t hate it.

“You’re good right bebita? You wouldn’t disobey me would you?”

You shake your head vigorously, the last thing on your mind right now is disobeying. You can be a brat, in certain circumstances, but in a room full of people who literally bleed confidence you're a little bit more cautious of your actions.

“She’s too much of a people pleaser to disobey, isn’t that right little one?”

It’s Lucy’s cocky voice from the couch that pulls Ingrid’s and your attention.

“Is that right? So how would you feel then if I switched to fucking Tana?”

Subconsciously, you know that if Aitana is far to gone for Ingrid to even try to fuck, but your dicked up brain does not know that and it is completely terrified of Ingrid pulling through with what she’s just said to you.

“Please no, please i’ll be good, please keep fucking me.”

You hear Ingrid snicker from behind you, all you can do is watch on as Ona continues to be brutally spanked by Alexia, Ona being a more than content participant.

“Ingrid, be nice, she’s so young and new, we need to test out her stamina.”

You pivot your head to look at Mapi, who is no longer sitting on Aitana’s face, instead, she is sucking marks into Ingrid’s neck whilst the Norwegian continues to fuck you at a slow but steady pace.

“Mm, she has been good so far, how about we see just how much you can take?”

Your brain doesn’t fully articulate what Ingrid is saying, until a wet solid comes up against your asshole.

It takes you a few seconds to realise that there is a finger, pressed straight up against it.

You flinch away from the contact, but Ingrid’s hands hold you still and keep you from moving away from it.

“Has anyone fucked you back here before, hermosa?”

You shake your head deftly at Mapi’s voice, gulping as she gently begins to push her finger inside.

“Joder, a little virgin? It’s going to be so fun opening you up, I’ll be nice and gentle, just focus on Ingrid.”

You nod your head, taking a deep breath and focusing on the feeling of Ingrid’s hips slamming up against your ass cheeks with every single thrust of her hips.

As Ingrid thrusts, Mapi slowly begins to work a finger into you.

It’s a weird kind of stretch, but it doesn’t hurt, and you are so focused on pleasing the couple that you hardly notice it. To caught up in the sight of Onas fate and desperately trying to avoid it. Punishment, can be fun, but tonight you want pleasure, you crave it with every single cell in your body and your positive that if you don’t achieve it then you’ll be broken.

Before you even realise, Mapi is easily slipping one of her fingers into you, and once she’s certain that there is no longer a stretch, she begins to work a second finger in.

This definitely gets your attention, having two different people penetrating you is something you’ve never experienced before, at first it hurts and is weirdly tender, but as time goes on, you slowly begin to fade into a mellow state of pleasure, a cloud of happiness and ecstasy.

The duo of the two forms is fantastic, and you find yourself in the edge once Mapi is easily sliding her two fingers in and out of you.

“I-Ingrid please, I’ll be good, let me cum, please.”

Your almost whining, the sight of Ona, being held open, her pussy and ass both stuffed with vibrators whilst Alexia spanks her clit, is something else entirely and it’s making you even more aroused.

“How do María’s fingers feeling bonita? How does it feel to be stretched out around two people?”

Your answer is strung together quickly, the desperation for your release only heightening.

“So fucking good, please, let me cum for both of you.”

Ingrid’s thrust suddenly become far more frantic, her hips canting upwards, the strap rubbing directly against your g-spot.

“Cum for us bebita.”

As soon as the words leave Ingrid’s mouth you are coming undone.

Your whole body goes limp, your body completely inebriated with pleasure as Ingrid continues to fuck you through the after shocks.

Mapi pulls out, instead moving to begin gently rubbing at your back and whispering reassurances in your ear.

“Such a good girl, so perfect for us.”

When you start to come down, Ingrid slowly slips out, leaving you legless and boneless in front of them on the bed.

Before you can say anything, Mapi is turning you over and cleaning you up with her mouth.

After the two orgasms everything is far more sensitive, but you’re still recovering and don’t have the energy to stop her even if you wanted to.

You lie on the bed, Mapi eating you out, Ingrid gently massaging the inside of your thighs until from somewhere across the room, a voice tells out to them.

“Maria, bring her over here.”

Mapi’s mouth leaves your sex and much to your displeasure, she lifts you up and sits you down on the edge of the bed.

Your head is still spinning a little bit, but after a few seconds in the vertical position you manage to stop your surroundings from doing somersaults in your head.

“Carino, come over here.”

Alexia is sat on the couch, legs wide open, Ona sitting on her knees in front of one of her legs.

Mapi helps you to hoist yourself up off the bed, your legs are definitely shaky but you manage to make your way over to the captain without any major struggle.

When you do, she gently direct you to her thigh, helping you to straddle the muscular skin.

“See Ona, this is what good girls get, good girls get to get themselves off on me, whereas bad girls just have to sit and watch.”

You look down at Ona, shocked by the little red lashes across her ass and how willing she is to partake in whatever this is.

“You can move carino, be a good girl and get off on my thigh.”

Before you can do anything, Alexia’s hands are at your hips, gently helping you to begin rocking against her.

It’s a completely different sensation, and it takes you a few seconds to figure out the exact way to run up against the flexed muscles to hit your clit in the right place, but once you do it feels impeccable.

“Such a good girl, not like our Ona who just can’t seem to behave, you would never disobey, would you?”

You shake your head at Alexia, your mouth wide open as you moan happily on her thigh, rutting up and down it with absolutely no care for your partner on the floor.

“Alexia?”

Alexia’s eyes are on Ona, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, her attention falls back to you, her eyes wide in question.

“Yes carino?”

You continue to rub yourself up and down, chasing another high like the two previous.

“Can I please cum?”

Your not quite on the edge, but a few more hits of Alexia’s quads flexing up against your clit and you might very well be.

“Of course carino, you’re our good girl, such a perfect girl, go ahead. Ona, watch as our good carino gets exactly what she wants because she’s been a good girl.”

Suddenly Alexia completely flexes her muscles, and as you’d predicted after a few good thrusts into her thigh, your coming undone, your body collapsing into Alexia’s chest as you moan happily and cum all over her thigh.

Alexia lifts you up, gently placing you down on the couch beside her before ordering Ona to clean up her thigh and then refocusing back onto you.

Alexia waits until your just about to come down, before she pulls out a little bullet vibe and presses it directly to you clit.

The sound of you screaming out is music to her ears, and she doesn’t let up on the pressure at all, watching as your legs spasm and thrash from the overstimulation.

Before you can say anything, you’re being forced into another orgasm. It’s not as good as the other ones, less satisfaction over the work that you’d done to get to it, and it hurts like a bitch, but it’s the final straw for your body.

Your whole body completely goes limp, similar to Aitana on the bed who is now being cleaned up by the couple and force fed a protein bar and water.

Alexia brings you to her side, letting you rest in the cranny in her neck.

You’re happy there, her skin is warm and familiar and you feel more protected with your head in her shoulder then you do with it exposed to the outside world, so you stay there until Lucy and Keira come over to collect you.

Lucy manhandles you to somewhere, a bedroom maybe but your head is so high up in the clouds you aren’t sure of anything.

You just know that you are comfy and very happy in the arms of Keira on the bed.

“You did so good honey, so proud of you, so very perfect you were.”

Keira’s praise doesn’t really register in your mind, but the kindness behind her words does and that’s enough to put your mind to rest.

Lucy takes her time in cleaning you up, running a washcloth between your thighs and gently massaging at any cramps or locked muscles in your body.

Once she’s done, she joins you and Keira in bed, the two cradling you between them.

In the morning, or whenever you wake up, they’ll tell you how proud they are, how brilliant you were and how next time they’ll just keep you all for themselves instead of sharing you around. Alexia will try and claim you as her own, her love for you stemming a lot deeper now at the connection that’s been formed.

One things for sure, this will definitely not be your last escapade with the barca girls.

[blindmagdalena]

Guilty Pleasures

18+ 3.3k homelander x plus size f!reader. workplace harassment, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, lite humiliation kink, sublander flavored. nebulously takes place post s1. part 1/4. AO3 link. | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4

Homelander is on top of the world. He can say or do whatever the fuck he wants, and the sycophants around him will bend over backwards to make his word law, with few notable exceptions.

He never expected you to be one of them. When you put him in his place after a workplace incident, he becomes fixated on the promise of a firm hand alongside a soft body.

It’s Thursday, which means Homelander is currently bored to tears less than ten minutes into Vought’s weekly digital marketing meeting. These monotonous discussions of percentages and trending graphics gradually begin to feel like a drill pushing slowly into each of his ears, but they’re a necessary evil if he wants to have input when it comes to his image.

He taps his fingers impatiently on the armrest of his chair. The tapping pauses, however, at the appearance of a new presenter.

You.

You’re a far cry from the dime a dozen jackass in a suit that had been presenting before you. He’s sure he hasn’t seen you before, which means you’re new. His gaze drifts from your round face to the sensible cut of your blouse, the garment buttoned nearly to your throat. Anything less would be considered lewd given the size of your breasts. He wets his lips absently, adjusting himself to sit a little straighter.

He’s completely lost track of what you’re talking about in favor of watching the way your hips sway each time you walk from one end of the board to the other, tactfully engaging each observer. You have a resonant voice, commanding attention without sounding harsh. With a rack like that, you must have to fight to have a word you say heard by anyone with even a passing interest in a good pair of tits.

Not that the cheap fabric of your bra is doing them any favors. Silk would be better. He’s always liked the shine of it. Softer, too. It wouldn’t scrape against your shirt the way he can hear that cotton blend you’re wearing is doing. 

Curious, he focuses his vision to peer through your blouse. Your undergarments are plain and sensible. Boring. Still, it elicits a distinct pang between his legs. His mouth waters slightly. Even from where he is, he can smell you, fresh and clean, slightly sweet smelling–like vanilla. Your clothes may be pedestrian but at least your perfume is nice.

Letting his gaze slide lower, he admires how the curves of your body flow into one another. He can tell just by looking at you how soft you would feel against him, under him. How good you would feel to grip and hold in place, sink into and lose himself in. Your voice has a soothing quality to it that lets him easily imagine you’re breathlessly singing his praises instead of rattling off bullet points in a presentation.

Fuck, he’s getting hard, his cock throbbing lightly against the cup of his suit. It’s the only thing that allows him to fantasize as freely as he does. The best part of it is that he’s fairly certain he can sense something warm and wet throbbing between your thick thighs.

He suspects he’s not the only one fantasizing.

The room is quiet for a second too long, and Homelander abruptly tunes back in to realize you’re staring directly at him, expectancy in your gaze. He pulls a blank, realizing he hasn’t processed anything you’ve said. “Say again?”

There’s a flicker of irritation in your eyes before you tightly school your expression back into polite professionalism. His lips slowly split into a devious smile that he consciously fine-tunes to be more neutral. How close you came to some sort of heated response was kind of… cute. It makes him want to give your proverbial pigtails another tug just to see what else he can evoke.

The thought of pulling your hair is good. The thought of you pulling his hair is better, though.

“I asked if you have any feedback for our campaign leading up to the premiere,” you say, though Homelander finds himself more interested in the flash of your tongue he gets as you run it along your teeth afterwards. Your temperature is up a notch, too. You must not be used to such direct attention from someone like him.

“Nope,” he says glibly, turning on one of his patented knock-out smiles. “Looks good to me.” At that, he pointedly looks you up and down, meeting your gaze with a quick wink. 

Judging by the slight tic at the corner of your mouth, you aren’t charmed by his response. Still, he waits in preemptive satisfaction for you to appease him by returning his smile.

You don’t.

Instead, you say nothing more than a terse “Wonderful,” the singular word barely passing for civil, let alone professional. You move on, and Homelander finds himself taken aback. You don’t meet his eye for the remainder of the presentation, and while that gives him plenty of opportunity to ogle you, it bothers him.

Towards the end of your time, he clears his throat. Everyone looks at him.

Everyone but you.

“Thanks so much for your time,” you say to the committee, smiling, finishing your piece with a small incline of your head. You go sit, and there’s a slightly awkward pause before the next presenter takes center stage.

Homelander sits in stunned silence. The idea that you, some fresh faced nobody, think you’re in any position to blow him off is laughable at best. Who cares if he didn’t pay attention to your little presentation? That’s not his job. You’re lucky he’s even here, lucky that someone like him would think to give you time out of his day.

By the time the meeting concludes, you haven’t spared him so much as a glance. Indignation builds hotly in his chest. He’s had more than enough of being snubbed lately. He’s not going to tolerate it from the likes of you.

You should be on your hands and knees begging for his attention.

He watches a handful of your peers congratulate you on your first presentation, though plenty of others cast him wary glances and decide not to approach you. They know better. They know who’s really in charge around here. Naturally, they all skitter away like roaches when he strides towards you.

“Not bad for your first presentation,” he tells you, his smile toned down into a thin, lopsided smirk.

You look around yourself, no doubt taking note of how the other little insects around you have scattered. Maybe now you’ll realize your mistake.

“Thank you, sir,” you say, your body angled slightly away from him, as if you’re ready to bolt at any second.

“Got a lot on my mind, though, so I don’t think I absorbed as much as I could have,” he says, laying on that boyish charm a little thicker than usual. “Would really appreciate it if you could stick around and run that by me one more time.”

Your gaze flickers away from him–he wishes you would stop doing that–to the others who’re filtering out of the room, slowly leaving the two of you behind. “As I said during the presentation, all the documents will be available online,” you say, finally looking back at him. You actually have the audacity to look annoyed that he’s talking to you.

“I don’t have a computer,” he replies, his own voice beginning to flatten.

“I’m sure someone in IT can help you with that,” you say, undeterred by his attempts to corner you. 

His smile tightens minutely. “Do you have some kind of problem with me?”

Your heart jumps. He finds satisfaction in that, at least.

“No, sir,” you say sharply, a barely discernible hitch in your voice. “What I have are deadlines. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to meet them.” With that, you manage to squeeze by him. Despite the steady confident tap of your shoes against the floor, your heart races rabbit-like in his ears.

He contemplates you as you go, momentarily stupefied by your flagrant disregard for him. You weren’t entirely unaffected by his presence, though. If you’d had less of an avenue for escape, would you have been so flippant? He continues to focus on the beat of your heart as your steps carry you further from him. It doesn’t slow. You’re still full of adrenaline, the scent of it lingering alongside your perfume. He inhales a slow, deep breath, the leather of his gloves creaking as he curls and uncurls his fist.

Homelander finds himself wondering what your agenda is, what makes you so desperate to break from the norm and catch his attention. It’s clear to him that’s what you want. Why else would you be so stubborn where anyone else would yield? He scoffs to himself. 

God, it’s so obvious in hindsight.

He has no doubt that your brazen attitude would shatter if he pressed in closer, if you felt the heat of his breath on your lips. He could part your soft thighs and paint the face of God on the ceiling above you with his tongue inside you. You couldn’t dismiss him so easily then, could you?

You’re so determined to be noticed that it’s almost pathetic. He shouldn’t reward this kind of behavior, and yet he feels strangely inclined to commend it. What you’ve done is brave in a way. Insolence and sycophants he can’t abide, but a touch of bravery? Well… That can be rewarded.

Your heart thunders in your ears as you make a beeline for your office. You can feel a terrible burn crawling up your chest and into your cheeks, the reality of what just happened finally allowed to sink in. You had spent all morning preparing yourself for presenting your work in front of not only your new peers at Vought, but in front of the world’s most prolific superhero. You were solid, you were ready.

Until you felt the gravity of his gaze on you. The weight of it made you stutter where you shouldn’t have, lose your train of thought mid-sentence. Every time you dared to look at him, he was looking at you like he was going to swallow you whole. Never have you felt more acutely aware of yourself than you did beneath his stare, feeling the way he was picking you apart as keenly as you would feel his hands undressing you.

It left you as furious as you are flustered.

That arrogant bastard!

You close the door behind you with a rough breath, closing your eyes. You can’t even sit, you have to pace your office instead, shaking your hands out as you walk. You know you weren’t imagining it. He confirmed as much for you when it took a solid eight seconds of silence for him to tear his gaze up from your chest, smiling as wickedly as any devil and caught elbow-deep in the cookie jar.

You couldn’t look him in the eye after that. It was humiliating to be reduced so thoroughly and obviously in front of your peers. Worst of all, he seemed damn pleased by it. 

Though that isn’t the only reason your heart is still racing. You’re not quite ready to address that yet. You’re fairly certain if you’d been forced to speak to him any more than you had, you would have said something that would cause you to lose your job. You just need space to breathe, to collect yourself, to–

There’s a brisk knock at your door. Great. What now?

“Just a m–” You’re stopped dead in your tracks by a familiar flash of red, white and blue as Homelander lets himself into your office, closing the door securely behind him. 

“Howdy,” he greets. He looks cartoonishly wide and brightly colored against the neutral colors of your office, even more larger than life than he’d seemed in the conference room. He has a smile that looks like it belongs in the mouth of a shark about to take a bite of you. It sets you off kilter completely–not that you’d been much on it to begin with.

You gawk a moment before managing to close your mouth. “Homelander,” you say, your voice curt in your own ears. You have no idea how to address him, still frazzled from not only the presentation, but your interaction that followed it. You should ask him what he needs. 

“What’re you doing here?” That came out ruder than you meant it to. Not that he doesn’t deserve it. Still, you’re trying to keep this job.

“Are you always this pleasant?” He asks, cocking his head slightly as he comes to a stop in front of you, his arms held behind his back beneath his swaying cape. “Or did I catch you on a bad day?”

Is he serious?

“Your conduct today was inappropriate,” you say flatly, settling your hands on your hips.

Homelander scoffs lightly. “Oh, relax. You gonna ‘#Metoo’ me over a wink? Christ, you’re done up tighter than that blouse of yours,” he says, his gaze dipping. A chill rolls up your spine as you watch his tongue roll along his teeth. He’s like an animal anticipating a meal.

Your jaw drops, cold shock settling in your gut alongside that blistering heat. Of all the things you had prepared yourself for before coming to Vought, Homelander being a misogynistic sex-pest hadn’t been on your list.

Well. Not the sex-pest part, anyways.

You point to your office door. “Get out.”

He blinks, zero comprehension in those deceptively charming baby blues. His smile turns incredulous. “I’m starting to think you don’t understand what’s happening here,” he says, his tone taking on a precarious edge. He lets out a breathy, mirthless laugh. “You know, most people in your position would be begging for my attention.”

There it is.

You suck a noise through your teeth, nodding slowly. "Oh, I understand exactly what’s happening here,” you say, shifting your weight like you’re winding up for a pitch. “I know you think you're special because you're famous, or a supe, or both. I know you think I should be grateful that you’d even look at someone like me, but you’re not special, and I’m not grateful. The reality of the matter is I can get dick whenever I want it–good dick–and I can get it without being humiliated at my job.”

The silence in the room is deafening. Homelander looks stupefied, but you decide that you’re not done.

“You're not blessing me by making entitled passes and crude remarks while I'm trying to work. You’re being a nuisance,” you say, your heart beating in your throat. “So please, would you kindly leave?” You ask, voice firm despite the friendlier nature of your phrasing.

Finally, Homelander is the one left gawking. He looks like a fish with the way his mouth keeps opening and closing, but it’s the dismissive, aborted little scoffs he makes in between that really sell his wounded bewilderment. You can see tension lurking just beneath the surface, an anger that skulks in the creak of his leather gloves.

Fear begins to creep up the back of your throat, burning like bile, but you hold steady as he seems to be deciding what he’s going to do with you. The longer the quiet stretches on, your focus entirely on the subtle spasms in his expression, the more sweat begins to prickle at the back of your neck. You refuse to fill the space, you refuse to back down.

For all his power, he’s still just a man.

Eventually, he swallows. “Okie-dokie,” he says, his tone unlike anything you expected. He sounds confused–a little dazed, even. He walks to the door, and after one hesitant look back at you, he leaves.

The door closes with a soft click that still makes you flinch, the sound of it loud in the silence of the room. You blink several times, the abruptness of his departure making the whole encounter feel like some sort of fever dream. 

What the fuck just happened?

You’re not special.

The impact of those words struck Homelander’s ears like a loud, painful ringing that follows him as he walks out of your office. He feels off balance, each step leaning slightly to the right.

It’s a ludicrous statement. Objectively wrong. Who in the fucking world could be more special than him? He’s a literal god, and you’re no one. A faceless, nameless cog in Vought’s mechanism that hoists him to the top of it all. That’s your job. To elevate him. Worship him.

Instead you spoke to him as if he were nothing. He could have cut you down where you stood for that. He could have put your head through your office window, snapped your neck, held your skull and burned your eyes out of–

He shakes his head sharply, swaying. He all but stumbles into the bathroom, surprising one of the worker drones washing their hands. “Get out,” Homelander says gruffly.

“Uh, sir–”

“Get the fuck out!” He snaps, startling the man so badly he immediately rushes off, fumbling with the door on his way out. Homelander slams it shut and lets out a ragged breath, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, then his temples as he paces the bathroom. His reflection taunts him from his peripheral vision.

He hasn’t been able to look himself in the eye since he snapped his Doppelganger’s neck while he knelt before him.

That’s what he wants from you, isn’t it? Mindless desperate praise and worship. Why, then, does the thought od it make his stomach churn so violently he can taste the burn of bile? He tugs compulsively at his suit collar, the press of it against his skin uncharacteristically hot and itchy.

“I can get dick whenever I want it–good dick.”

He shamefully palms himself through his suit, confusingly hard amidst a swirling turbulence of contradicting thoughts and feelings. He could be good for you, too, if you’d fucking let him. He knows he could make you crumble, take apart that carefully constructed demeanor of professionalism and make you see him for what he is. He can prove himself to you. He will prove that you’re wrong about him, and then you’ll show him the love respect he deserves.

Hurriedly, he unzips his pants. His eyelashes flutter as he shoves his hand into them, roughly grabbing hold of his cock. He braces his forearm against the bathroom door and lets his head drop forward, watching his crimson glove pump the leaking head of his dick. His mind bounces between scenarios. He imagines himself in your place, fully on display for you to ogle. He imagines you’re watching him even now, staring him down with that unaffected look of indifference, of irritation, of disgust.

He bites back a whine, gritting his teeth. He wants so badly to imagine his face buried in your soft tits while he fucks the plush space between your thighs, but he knows you won’t let him. Not right away. You’d make him earn it, wouldn’t you? You’d make him watch you please yourself before he ever got so much as a taste.

The glassiness in his eyes begins to sizzle, the moisture burning away as crimson light flares up in them. Would you laugh if you could see him now, or would you scold him for touching himself without your permission?

Homelander comes hard, tipping his head back with a loud moan as he paints the bathroom door with ribbon after ribbon of come. He barely manages not to blow a hole through the ceiling, the light of his eyes flaring and softening in time with each euphoric wave of release. He pants through it, head falling forward and thunking lightly against the door, resting there while he catches his breath.

“Fuck,” he exhales eventually, sighing. He wipes his hand on the wall and then carefully tucks himself back into his pants, his mind swirling hazily on the best high he’s had since…

Clearing his throat, he puts himself back together before leaving the bathroom. Clearly, the thing that he’s been missing is a challenge. 

Luckily for him, you’ve kindly volunteered yourself.

( chapter two )

[corroded-hellfire]

The Bunny and the Hair - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: All you want is a cute photo of your daughter in her bunny costume and a photo of the whole Munson family together. But nothing is simple when the children of Eddie Munson are involved

Note: Happy Easter! Thank you to my darlings @munson-blurbs and @offensiunculaee for helping me brainstorm ideas when the only thing in my head was Eliza dressed as a bunny 💕

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Aww, come on sweet pea. Give me a smile.”

Your five-month-old daughter does the very opposite of that. It seems that Eliza Munson has somehow perfected the art of giving a piercing glare before mastering sitting up on her own without being a little wobbly. 

The fuzzy white bunny suit she’s in, hood with ears and all, paints the most adorable picture you’ve ever seen. It would be even cuter if she would flash a brief look of glee for a single photo. This Easter is warmer than it’s been in the last few years and it’s easy to understand that she’s getting hot, which is making her cranky. But you just want one good picture. 

“Just one little smile for Mommy? Please?” You raise the small silver camera to your eye before remembering that this new fancy one has a digital screen where you can see what the picture will look like without squinting through a little hole. 

Deciding to start snapping shots and see what happens, your forefinger presses the small shiny button that makes a soft click after click. A giggle bubbles out of you as you notice your baby getting grumpier and grumpier with each shot. A flipbook would be a perfect place to put these photos and flip through them to see Eliza Hulk-out in real time. 

She is getting officially fed up now. 

“Boys?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder to where your husband and sons stand, watching your attempt at an infant photo shoot. “Can you make her smile so I can get one good shot? Then I’ll get her out of that.”

If anything can make Eliza laugh, it’s her brothers. Particularly Luke, he likes to remind people. 

“Sure,” Ryan says, looking around for any prop to assist him. His brown eyes snag on the eggs on the coffee table, the ones you and the boys had been in the middle of preparing to be dyed before Eddie came out with Eliza in all her fluffy glory. “Hey! Liza! Watch this!” He catches the baby’s eye and picks up one of the boiled eggs and jumps up, pretending to crack it over Eddie’s head. It brings a small smile out of your daughter. 

“Hey, hey!” Luke says, waving his arms to attract his little sister’s attention. “Eliza, look!” The younger Munson boy grabs an egg and props one socked foot on the edge of the coffee table to leverage himself up high enough to copy Ryan’s actions.

“Oh, Luke, that one wasn’t–”

Your warning comes too late. The ten-year-old had picked up one of the eggs that had yet to be boiled in preparation for decorating. This comes to light when Luke crushes the egg over his father’s head and runny yolk and gooey egg whites plop down onto Eddie’s hair and drip down his frizzy curls. 

The air feels as if it’s been sucked out of the room. All eyes are on Eddie as his shoulders bunch up towards his ears and his jaw drops open, a small dollop of yellow yolk falling onto his salt-and-pepper scruff. It’s hard to tell how long the room is frozen, silent until—

Furious giggles come from behind you and it breaks the tension that kept the four of you rooted to your spots. You whip your head around to see Eliza laughing so hard that she loses her balance and flops down onto her side, unable to remain sitting up straight on her own. Quickly, you’re able to set her up right again and grab the camera getting a few shots of her, giddy as can be in her bunny suit. 

Relieved that’s taken care of, you now turn back to look back at your husband, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Neither has Luke. 

It’s obvious to you by the look on Eddie’s face that he can tell that it was an accident, but your son is wide-eyed in fear, clearly not getting the same sense. 

“E-Eliza, say bye-bye to Luke cause Dad is gonna kill me,” Luke says softly, never taking his bright blue eyes from his father’s egg-covered form. 

Eddie takes a step towards Luke slowly, clearly wanting to keep Luke in suspense until the last second, before he wipes a large glob of the sticky egg goo from his own hair and rubs it into the little boy’s messy curls. A maniacal laugh erupts from deep within Eddie as he tugs Luke against his chest, not letting his son get away as he squirms and squeals, trying to escape the shared messiness. Despite his protests, when Luke pulls back and looks up at his dad, he’s laughing. 

Watching the two of them in amusement, you put your hands on your hips and shake your head. Never a dull moment with the Munson men. The two of them continue to rub egg on one another as you turn towards the only clean boy in the house.

“Ryan, can you go get Eliza out of her costume? Last thing we need is her overheating.”

“Yeah, you get cranky enough already,” Ryan tells his baby sister as he scoops her up. Eliza gives a little harumph, but you think that’s more from the way the twelve-year-old holds onto her tightly than offense at his words. 

You set the camera down on the coffee table, making sure it isn’t near any of the eggs.

“Damn,” you say. “Forgot to get a family picture.”

“We’ll take one when Ry and Eliza come back out,” Eddie says, dodging Luke’s sticky fingers. 

“That’s gonna look great with you two looking like you fell in a vat of slime,” you say with a laugh. 

Your husband and his mini me only continue to get messier until you hear Ryan’s footsteps coming back down the hall toward the living room. The moment your eyes land on your daughter’s new ensemble, you have to do a double take. Eliza is beaming in her brother’s arms, wearing her bright pink bathing suit covered in large, white polka dots. 

Left speechless, your eyes widen and you’re only able to gesture with your hands towards the swimsuit.

Ryan shrugs as he hefts his sister up on his hip. “She grabbed it when I opened her drawer. And you said you didn't want her overheating.”

Your gaze slides from Eliza, over to Luke and Eddie, then back to Ryan.

“You and I are going to be the ones who stick out in the Easter picture,” you tell your oldest. “We look normal.”

“You mean we don’t look normal?” Luke asks, jumping on his dad’s back and scrunching up the man’s eggy curls. 

Sighing and shaking your head in amusement, you snatch up the camera and fiddle with it until you set the timer for three minutes. The entertainment unit is the perfect height to rest the camera so it can get a good shot of the whole family. You set it on the shelf right above the television and nod your family over toward where the lens is facing.

Eddie, still sporting Luke as a backpack, walks over and stands on your right. Ryan, carrying a still-beaming Eliza tucks into your left side. It’s impossible not to look over the gang around you, letting out a laugh as you take in the chaotic bunch.

“Smile!” Luke instructs everyone.

Eddie slips his hand around your waist and pulls your side flush up against his, squishing some of the egg whites against you, causing you to let out a squeal of laughter just as the flash of the camera goes off. Your husband grins and presses a big wet kiss on your cheek

“Now that picture’s gonna be a keeper,” he says.