#Gob Summer

[anju45]

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐱 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞••━━━ TCW ━━••𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲

[fullcravings]

Gobs (aka Whoopie Pies)

[orcbardneeul]

And closing out Hot Gob Summer, we have Roth showing off a…oh my. Roth, I think you're supposed to wear more than that on a public beach. But I suppose they'll make an exception for you.

(🎨 @syrupmandraws )

[gensokyogarden]

How well do each of your muses handle spicy foods?

Oh boy! given the fairies were discussing it I'll start with my canons/ocs at the SDM and then include some others that are interesting.

My take on Remilia comes from France so to answer this I decided to research a bit on French cooking. While there do seem to be a few spices used in traditional French meals they seem to have very few with hot spices. Remilia was born in 1491 and became a vampire in 1511. In the time that she lived foreign cuisines were not too readily apparent and I head canon she began eating a lot less upon going vamp so modern time hasn't given her much opportunity to adapt to spice. With that in mind, Remilia doesn't handle spice well at all.

A lot of the factors for Flan are pretty much the same with just slight variance. Frenchish (except technically her home is now in Belgium) born in 1496 became a vampire in 1515. The difference is that Flandre did not have a break with eating as Remi did. Since Flandre doesn't control her strength she can't effectively feed on blood so she has to eat actual meals. FDS reveals the fairy mades do a lot of the cooking but personally I headcanon that Meiling had been with the manor long before the fae staff (Sakuya may well have too). That means Meiling probably did a fair bit of the cooking in the past. Chinese food has a lot of spicy dishes. Meiling probably knew better than to just feed Flandre super spicy food but she can at least handle a bit of kick. Not Mapo Tofu but some other curries she can manage.

My Patchy was raised in China by Italian merchants. Both cultures have a good amount of spicy food in their cooking. However the issue is that Patchouli has several health problems (Anemia, asthma, etc). Personally, as someone without any of that, I am not sure what impact spicy food can have on that. For that reason I'm tentatively going to say that Patchouli handles spice okay but that they irritate her throat in large qualities. So only small doses of spice please.

Chimata is a Japanese market god. Don't know much about Japanese food but from what I can find they don't have many national spicy foods but that Chinese and Indian spicy foods have always been popular there, also some regional spicy foods. Spice itself has always been a big part of merchantry, which gives Chim-chim a good reason to have pretty big stockpiles. I think Chimata actually has the best spice tolerance of all my SDM muses. Spicy food is probably her preferred meal. Lots of Mapo Tofu for this lady.

For my rarely appearing Sakuya muse, she was raised in Mexico. Ate a lot of hot spices before being recruited by her vampire boss. Unfortunately, Remilia's distaste for spices means that since coming to the mansion she hasn't ate anything spicy. After all, the meals prepared are for Remilia (even if she often does not feel like eating). For that reason her spice tolerance has sagged with time.

Now for my SDM ocs.

Mizu is basically a water bucket brought to life. Capsaicin is an oil and her body is even more water than a human's is. Do not give her spice. It will just cause her entire body to feel like it were burning.

Fairies are nature spirits and Summer is one for the hottest season of the year. I don't think she'd have any problem with spice. In fact she enjoys some of the spicier peppers quite a lot.

Don't give the goblins spice. They're English house spirits, the hottest thing they've had is horse radish.

Lavender is not prepared for spice. She does not have Patchouli's background but does have her poor constitution so spicy food will wipe the floor with her.

Now a few other characters:

Reimu does not even seem to process that she's eaten something spicy when given it. Unphased.

Eirin will, similarly, eat some of the hottest peppers and spices known to man and look totally unphased afterwards.

Yuuka very specifically likes Mapo Tofu. Nobody has seen her eat any other spicy foods.

Byakuren can scarf down spices with no problem. Seems to really like it.

Reisen ate a bell pepper and became horrible pained. No spice for her please.

[fabulous-gabulous-theartist]

That moment when you realize your recent intense hyper fixation with O.K. K.O. is a symptom of your seasonal depression.

Every. Fucking. Summer.

[sorrellegiance]

THE TECH INTERACTIVE

[pontataroot]

Watch "Gob - Soda [Official Music Video]" on YouTube

Every summer solstice my partner and I listen to this song and crack open a drink☀️

[anonymousewrites]

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance

Saiki Kusuo x Non-Binary! Reader

Book 1

Follows the events of Season One

Prologue: Troublesome "Friends"

Chapter One: Girl Problems and Beach Woes

Chapter Two: Ghosts and Guardians

Chapter Three: Sports Festival

Chapter Four: Safety Drills and Clairvoyants

Chapter Five: Ramen Shops

Chapter Six: Christmas Eve

Chapter Seven: New Year's Day

Chapter Eight: Valentine’s Day Chaos and Movie Night Misunderstandings

Chapter Nine: Mothers and Meetups

Chapter Ten: Traveling to Okinawa

Chapter Eleven: Accidents and Reveals

Chapter Twelve: Insecurities and Sweets

Chapter Thirteen: Punk Transfer

Chapter Fourteen: Festival Display

Chapter Fifteen: Festival Problems

Chapter Sixteen: Taking Teruhashi Out (on a Not-Date)

Chapter Seventeen: Delinquent Run-In and Teruhashi’s Home-Visit

Chapter Eighteen: Karaoke Party

Chapter Nineteen: Toritsuka’s Possessions and Club

Chapter Twenty: Crepes and Breaks

Chapter Twenty-One: Adventures in London

Chapter Twenty-Two: Summer Break Days

Chapter Twenty-Three: Rich Transfer Trouble

Chapter Twenty-Four: Celebrations

Book 2:

Follows the Events of Season Two

Prologue: Relationships

Chapter One: Cafes and Clothes

Chapter Two: Saiko's Mansion

Chapter Three: Cold Days and Warm Hearts

Chapter Four: Cute Girls and Ghost Girls

Chapter Five: Competition and Curses

Chapter Six: Seasick

Chapter Seven: Stranded

Chapter Eight: Raft

Chapter Nine: Misinformation and Memories

Chapter Ten: Fortune-Telling Transfer

Chapter Eleven: Mark of Death

Chapter Twelve: Family

Chapter Thirteen: Festival Competition

Chapter Fourteen: Elderly Project

Chapter Fifteen: Dates and Judo

Chapter Sixteen: Teruhashi's Tears and Rifuta's Crush

Chapter Seventeen: Occult Love versus Sweet Loves

Chapter Eighteen: Evil Spirits and Pranks

Chapter Nineteen: Insecurity and Talkative Transfer

Chapter Twenty: Investigative Transfer

To be continued...

Specials:

Pride Specials: 2024

Halloween Specials: 2024

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

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[fitgirlfemdom]

✧∘* ✧･ﾟbigger guys✧∘* ✧･ﾟ

you meet me at the gym. maybe i caught your eye from the squat rack or maybe you watched as a downed a bottle of water during a break. it doesn't matter--we get to talking. eventually, you realize, i come to that gym everyday, and soon we get to exchanging numbers. i come across as this demure, young cardiobunny with a bit of an obsession for you, and maybe you're just looking to score.

it doesn't matter. i tell you that i like bigger guys. you ask me about my opinion of you, and i suggest that you could eat a few more calories. after all, it's bulking season. you don't really think that your 10% body fat is gonna maintain all the way to summer, do you? i suggest a mass gainer shake brand, and although you forget most of our conversation, on your way home, you couldn't help but stop by a grocery store and pick some up.

that's when i start asking you about it. i recommend, after our respective work-outs when we're downing out protein shakes, you take your mass gainer at the same time. it's efficiency, after all. you say you want to ease into it, but after meeting my eyes as the bottle touches your lips, something changes in you.

i go to the gym everyday, and when i see you enter, i ask about the shakes. you did bring some with you, right? you won't get any gains if you don't eat right after! didn't you know that? and that brand isn't even that good anyway. who told you to get that? let's head to your place after--i'll show you how to make a real shake.

that's when it becomes a daily routine--well, it started to, before your lethargy got to you. post-workout, i'd head over and whip up something special for you--gobs of peanut butter, mass gainer, heavy cream, protein powder, the works--all in the comfort of your own blender. you start to question if all of this is really necessary, but i did tell you big guys were better, and are you gonna tell me i'm wrong? look at you. don't get self-deprecating now. i like how much you've gained!

the daily work-out dates turn to me seeing you after, crashed out on the couch. you head to the gym a few times a week, but not as commonly as before. you've just been so tired lately, i get it. rest days are even more important for recovery, though. it's doctors' orders-you need more sleep, and you need more shakes. when you're not ordering DoorDash, i'm the one cooking for you. a shake goes with every meal--it's mandatory. and you love it. they taste good! why think so hard about it when i'm smiling when you do it?

in fact, going to the gym at all is just cutting down the muscle you already have, don't you know that? you need some time to regain mass. you might as well quit your job--it's so demanding, isn't it? i could support both of us easily, and why would i want you to risk burning more calories out and about? it'd be much easier for you to sit on the couch and regroup, watch some TV, watch some porn, and eat.

you quit your job, because it's sucked the soul out of you, honestly. you've moved in with me, because there's no reason to live separately when we spend all our time together. you can't go five minutes without one of my shakes or my meals, after all. you're honestly a real glutton now, if i'm being honest. whenever i return from my daily gym visit, i make sure to bring you plenty of take-out, or three pizzas, or a few Subway footlongs, just to make sure you're well-fed. you've added probably 100lbs of mass at this point. it'd be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.

you barely move from the couch, and i think it's starting to get to you. your gym buddies are all wondering what happened, and you can barely get the strength to sit-up by yourself, but that mental turmoil seems to dissipate when you're eating. it just tastes too good, doesn't it, baby? you're so full, but you love when i bring a fork to your lips, or a slice of pizza to your mouth. you love when i nod affirmatively, smiling as i watch you down another one of my shakes.

you especially love when i ride you. all those past memories, memories of athletic prowess, of high school cheerleaders, of locker room chats, all seem to fade away. the rush of a new PR, the delight in pumping iron, it's all gone. you spread your thick, plumped-out thighs outward and i straddle you as the TV plays. it's hard to get a good hold on your cock with that gut in the way, but you're so hard, so needy, so hot--i plunge myself on it right away. you feel my tight, toned body squeeze the life out of you, hearing the wet slaps of your balls on my defined, perky ass. you might not be able to move as well now, but i certainly can. i'm the tightest you've ever had, and my tits are pressed up against your face.

you're sweating, and you're not even moving. well, not intentionally, anyway. your tits are bouncing more than mine, let's be honest. everything about me is perky and defined, firm--even my ribs are apparent. but you? you're a pig. your moans almost sound like oinks, that's how much pressure you've put on your body. you stare up at me riding your cock, and because of your porn-rotten brain and how pathetic you are, you cum almost immediately, like always. doesn't matter. i give you a hearty dose of Viagra with your mass gainer shake after, and i use your cock for the next few hours. i get horny after the gym, what can i say?

you've blown at least four loads into my wet cunt at this point, and although my stamina hasn't faltered, you're completely spent. your cock is so overstimulated, you wince at the slightest touch. i know this, baby, and i care about you so much, so i make sure i've licked every inch of it clean. i stare up at you from this angle, but i can barely see your face behind your gut. you've really let yourself go, haven't you? you're shaking, overfed, overstimulated, bound to this couch under your own poor decisions. why even leave the house? they're all just gonna make fun of you. you think your gym buddies won't have a few choice words to say about you when you make your return?

you don't care about this, about any of this. your brain is so melted from the constant dopamine, the constant pleasure, that you've lost all self-awareness. your daily schedules consists of cable TV, countless hours of porn and touching your pathetic cock, and, of course, eating everything in sight. you're a complete degenerate, but you're my complete degenerate.

i did tell you i liked bigger guys.

[call-me-strega]

Batfam Prompt #4: Granddad Lore

Do y’all ever think Alfred just drops Dad Lore™️ out of nowhere?

Like, maybe Bruce and Jason are arguing about Red Hood’s past kills and Alfred makes a sassy remark “If we’re holding everyone accountable for murders they’ve committed under influence when can I expect my court date?” Stunning them both into silence. By the time they get their wits about them, Alfred has already moved on to cleaning the kitchen and refuses to elaborate.

Or seeing Dick and Tim returned to the cave after fighting Condiment King: covered in ketchup, looking like a murder scene, with pickles in places pickles should not be. And Alfred sighs and says “ Oh this mess reminds me of the summer of ‘95.” And when Tim and Dick go “wtf?” try to question him on it he just sprays them with the bat hose.

Or he watches Damien and Cass, trying to train Goliath the bat-dragon to roll over and says “Oh, yes, this reminds me of the pet lizard I had in my boyhood, Spike, who turned out to be a crocodile.” And then leaves before either of them can ask more.

Or visiting Babs at the library with Duke and Steph and he stops to talk to an old woman at the counter. And when he comes get back they tease him about having a lady friend. And he’s like “ Don’t be ridiculous. I met Judith during the Lavender Scare. Helped her ward off suspicion so that she could keep her job as a secretary to the senator without being harassed.” And then he wanders off to find a new cookbook, leaving the three gob smacked.

Or someone’s telling a story about a mission over dinner and Alfred goes. “Ah yes, Master Bruce that reminds me of the summer your father dragged me on a boys trip to Guatemala to search for the chupacabra. Although that trip was how we met your mother.” And he continues eating while everyone stares at him because this is a Lore drop with bonus Wayne Lore???!

[ar4chn333]

“I Just Got You Back”

Michael Bluth x fem reader

Summary:

You and Michael shared your chaotic childhoods as best friends until your father moves your family away, devastating both of you. Twelve years later, you reunite. Convincing Michael to take the day off work, you revisit old memories…and make some spicy new ones. (2,473 words)

Contents:

Pörn with plot, p in v, praise, f!ngering, kinda tooth-rotty ngl, friends to lovers, x fem reader

Waiting anxiously a few feet from the door, you quickly fix your hair, pushing it behind your ear. Your mother steps ahead of you, giving the door three knocks before stepping back by your side.

“Let’s hope Lucielle has wine,” she chirps.

“Please,” you chuckle softly, careful not to be heard through the door. “If there’s one thing I remember about Lucielle, it’s the attitude–and the alcohol.”

“Amen,” your mom smiles in your direction, raising her eyebrows in anticipation, clearly excited to see her friend of over 40 years. Truthfully, you didn’t care much for Lucille. She was quite harsh and you remember her outright insulting you as a child but you didn’t mind if it meant you got to see Michael. The two of you spent long, hot summers in the Bluth banana stand, teasing each other, commiserating, and of course, half-assedly selling frozen bananas. You jump a little when the door to the model home swings open and out pops Lucielle who promptly hugs your mother then does the same to you.

“Got rid of that deadbeat husband, I see Jennifer?” Lucielle blurts.

“You should have seen the divorce party,” your mom retorts, giggling.

Lucille motions you two inside, making a bee-line into the kitchen to pour another drink. “You’re old enough to drink now, right?” she asks you. “Oh, yes, though I’ll have some later, thank you,” you reply. Lucielle rolls her eyes playfully as she takes a sip and hands your mom a glass. The two start chatting away and you prepare for a long night of third-wheeling two drunk middle-aged women. However, you hear footsteps coming from upstairs and a man’s voice, seemingly trailing up and down the upper floor plan. You wonder if it’s George, though the voice is much smoother than his, and you can’t make out many of the words. You turn back to the women’s conversation, deciding the mysterious noise is none of your business.

A few moments later you hear footsteps descending the stairwell. Whipping your head around, you see a man in a light blue button-up shirt, khaki pants, and a maroon tie with a phone up to his ear, which he promptly shuts upon landing on the first floor. He looks up. It takes a moment for your brain to register who he is, but when it finally does, you dart out of your chair.

“Michael! Oh my god!”

“y/n!”

He wraps you in a bear hug, nearly lifting you off of the floor. Senses overwhelmed by the scent of cologne and the warmth of his body, you sink into him ever so slightly. After a couple seconds you briefly pull away, your arms still on his, to look at him. He’s gorgeous and has grown into his stunning blue eyes perfectly.

“How long has it been? Ten-ish years?” He says, beaming.

“More like twelve,” you retort, having actually counted beforehand during the car ride over.

“Gosh, you’re beautiful,” he says softly before chuckling nervously, as if the comment were a knee-jerk reaction. He smiles sheepishly, hand traveling to the back of his head. “Thank you,” you reply blushing and looking away briefly, stomach alight with butterflies.

Michael pulls out his phone, holding it up. “I really wish I could stay and chat but I have to head back to the office–Gob is causing trouble again.”

“Oh lord, what this time?”

“Can I tell you tonight? I’ll be back around 7.”

“I see you’re grown into your work ethic too huh? That’s not the Michael I remember at the banana stand,” you chuckle.

“No kidding, I can’t seem to catch a break.”

“Are you sure you can’t take today off? We could go to the banana stand and walk around!”

“I’m sorry y/n, Gob’s a handful and I’ve got to take care of this.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tonight then,” you say fake-pouting. He awkwardly places his hand on your shoulder for a brief moment and begins to walk towards the door. “You’d think the place is imploding with the way he acts,” shouts Lucielle with every intention of Michael hearing it. He turns back around to glare at her before locking eyes with you. Perhaps childishly, you make a fake explosion sound with an accompanying dramatic gesture from your hands. He pauses for a moment, looking back at his phone, then once again at you.

“Screw it, let’s go.”

Smiling ear-to-ear, you hop into his car and head to the banana stand. Walking around, you exchange stories of your childhood together–the banana stand, the bike rides, and burns from attempting to operate the cornballer. Though you leave it unsaid, you once again feel the pain of being thirteen and leaving Michael behind when your Dad decided to set up his company headquarters far outside of California. The pit in your stomach begins to subside when you glance back at the banana stand as the two of you walk past. The night before you left, the two of you were stocking supplies when you began to cry about your life being uprooted and most of all, losing your best friend. He kissed you that night. Your first kiss ever–and his too. Leaving broke your heart.

The two of you grab dinner and you find him to be just as funny, charming, and awkward as you left him, only now, he was devastatingly handsome. You talk about your respective jobs, ambitions, and hopes over the food, collectively realizing how weird your childhoods were–but at least you had eachother for most of it.

The two of you pull into the driveway, and he opens the door for you as you exit the car with the sweetest smile on his face as he holds your hand to help you up. You see your mom’s car and figure she’s probably passed out along with Lucielle. “I think your ride is probably asleep,” says Michael. “You’re more than welcome to spend the night, we have a spare bedroom for you to use.”

“Thank you, I’m not drunk or anything, but it certainly wouldn’t be safe for me to drive, much less attempt to wake my mother,” you chirp.

He opens the door to the house slowly and lets you inside. The lights are off so you tip-toe around to the stairs. “Where’s the extra bedroom?” You ask.

“Up here and to the right–I’ll show you,” he replies.

“Oh, perfect,” you let out with a relieved sigh, flopping on the bed, certainly feeling the sedative effects of the alcohol. “Any chance I could get some clothes to sleep in?”

“Sure! I have a shirt you could wear.”

Michael walks out of the room–the light still off with you perched on the bed. You’d have to travel back to your place in the morning. Though it was only a couple of hours away, you felt like Michael was being taken away from you again and it hurt all the same. You wanted more of him–to be around him, to talk about nothing and everything…to touch him.

He walks back into the room with a baggy shirt in hand, backlit by the slight light of the hallway. Hopping up, you glide toward him, reaching your arms out. He hugs you deeply and you feel his heart through his chest and his breath on your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine.

“I feel like I just got you back,” he says, still embracing you. Slowly, he pulls away, his arms still wrapped around you. And for a brief moment, you just look at eachother. As if in sync, your faces move towards each other, his soft lips making contact with yours. He starts slowly, savoring every moment he tastes you, the texture of his stubble on your face making you melt. Pulling you in closer he deepens the kiss, smiling when an ever-so-slight sound escapes your lips. Your hand slides up his back, to his neck, and finally to his hair which you run your fingers through, gripping it slightly as he presses against you. The feeling of your hand on him causes him to breathe deeply against you, hungry for your touch.

“You’re burning up,” he says. You look at him concerned, cheeks and chest flushed a bright red. Eventually you realize what he means.

“It just means I’m enjoying this,” you chuckle, going in for another kiss. His hands trail farther down to your lower back and eventually to your hips. You let out a slight gasp as he pulls them towards his body. Almost out of instinct, you wrap your arms around his neck and jump, your thighs resting on his hips and your legs wrapped around him. Forearms on your legs, his hands cup your ass, giving it a squeeze as he carries you towards the wall. Back on the wall, you let out a moan as he leans into you. His lips trail from your jaw to your neck, sucking lightly against the tender skin. You feel him getting hard from inside his pants as your nails drag along the shirt on his back.

“I want you, y/n. And not just tonight–I want you with me. I can’t lose you again,” he whispers.

“You won’t lose me–you’re stuck with me now,” you giggle, pausing to lock eyes with him. You lean closer once again, lips almost touching his “So fuck me, Michael.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Spinning you around to the bed, he lays you down gently, once again trailing kisses down your neck. When he gets to your collarbone, his hands begin to reach up your shirt, fingers tracing along your ribs and to your tits. He lifts your shirt off, sitting up for a second to admire you laid out for him, legs around his hips. You get a little shy, covering your breasts with your arms but he pulls them away continuing his trail of kisses from your collar bone to your sternum and finally to your nipple. Your back arches at the sensation of his mouth, tongue circling and lips sucking. Moaning softly, your hands tug on the back of his shirt, eager to feel the skin of his torso against yours. You reach down to unbutton his shirt before stripping off his undershirt.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he coos. You look down at him as his lips continue down your body, his mouth emitting the smallest sounds as he licks and sucks, driving you wild. Kissing just before the band of your underwear, you let out a moan, desperate for him. “Good girl,” he whispers. His words send shivers down your body, your underwear now drenched in anticipation. Slowly, he pulls off your pants, noticing your legs shaking for him already. He puts his hand over your most sensitive region, looking up at your expression–brows furrowed and mouth agape at his touch.

“Fuck, Michael, you feel so good,” you whine.

“I haven’t even started yet,” he whispers deviantly.

His fingers trace along your pantyline, pulling them down at a painfully slow pace, causing you to squirm underneath him. Running a finger through your folds, you whimper at the pleasure.

“Please, Michael.”

At the sound of your words, his middle and index fingers begin to circle your clit. Your hand reaches to clench the bedsheets while the other occupies itself with his soft brown hair. Your back arches suddenly and you buck your hips against him. Your moans become louder but are soon muffled by his mouth against yours. “That’s my good girl, so sensitive.” No sooner than he finishes his sentence, he slips his fingers inside of you, thumb now circling your clit. Curling them, he hits your g spot as you claw at his back, body pulsating with pleasure. “You’re doing so well, baby. It feels like you’re ready for me,” he coos.

“Please, Michael, I want your cock inside me,” you moan, locking eyes with him. His pupils widen as you palm him through his pants, biting your lip. He lets out a groan, sounding almost like the growl of an animal as he grows painfully hard. Sitting up, he undoes his belt in front of you as your hands trace the inside of your thighs, ready for him. Slipping off his pants, he raises one of your legs over his shoulder. Locking eyes with you, his hand runs the tip of his cock along your folds as your head tilts back in pleasure. Lining up with your entrance, he presses slightly into you, gasping at the feeling of your pussy. His hips slowly descend towards yours, cock pressing further and further into you. You let out a small whimper at his size, but quickly adjust to take him in.

“Oh Michael,” you let out, along with a stream of unintelligible whimpers.

He begins to slide his cock in and out of you, slowly, as not to hurt you. The delicious sounds that escape his mouth ring distinctly in your ears, causing you to clench around his member. You look down to see his hips colliding into yours, your legs shaking around him, buzzing with warmth and electricity at the feeling of him inside of you. He moves faster, pushing into you with increasing force and eliciting yelps upon contact.

“Shh baby, we don’t want to wake them up,” he says while continuing to pound you. Clearly unable to hold in your sounds, he slips two fingers into your mouth and your lips close obediently around them. You taste yourself on his fingers, moans escaping in the form of high-pitched hums in rhythm with his strokes.

A knot begins to form in your stomach as he fucks you, winding tighter every time he slides his cock into you. His thrusts grow more erratic, his mouth agape, on the verge of unwinding. He then takes your other leg, placing it over his shoulder, causing his cock to hit the perfect spot inside of you as you squirm and buck beneath him.

“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, pulling his fingers out of your mouth.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Michael!” you yelp.

Warmth runs over your body and the string comprising the knot in your stomach is pulled on like a ripcord, unraveling furiously. Your body shakes and your whimpers break in time with his movement while an electrical current overtakes your body with pleasure. Michael follows soon behind, cumming as his moans echo in the room and his thrusts dissipate.

He rolls over beside you as your arms cling to him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I missed you so much–I missed my best friend,” you whisper.

“I missed you too, y/n,” he says, kissing your forehead. “Come biking along the beach with me tomorrow.”

“I would love that,” you whisper, smiling ear to ear.

Author’s note in comments💕💕💕

[darkstrawberrytimetravel]

Why don't you just give in? Pt.2

Fem reader

Pt.1

You

He's looking skinny, or as skinny as a man who's resembled a brick shithouse for the last two decades can be, less toned I suppose more lean. I watch as he turns away, the t-shirt he's wearing allowing for more creases, bagginess. He's forgone his mask, not that he needs it. He needs a shave instead, he almost resembles his Captain with that growth. His dirty blonde hair now sun bleached in parts and his tan somewhat deeper.

You know you want to run your fingers through it, feel the short hairs against the pads of your fingers as your hand moves against the grain. The last time you did that his hands were- My thoughts are both rudely and thankfully interrupted.

“Ohhh blimey you see the lads? Who's that with the scraggly face? The tall one?” I hear Laura beside me. Instantly the table I'm seated at falls into hushed gossip, as they always do when they see the task force. The SAS lads are a common sight around here, but the more specialist unit within it still garners mystique, enthusiastic and borderline obsessive gossip whenever they grace us with their presence.

“Ghost… you really don't recognise him without that rag on his face?” I murmur as I look down and bring my mug of coffee to my lips. Ghost... I still hate that callsign. Nickname. The lore. I mean I know how fucking vicious and brutal he can be. It's not learnt or adaptive behaviour since joining the military. As usual the table descends into the usual gossip, the girls wanting to follow them to the pub they'll inevitably end up at later on. Such is the routine when they land back on home turf, especially since they've clearly been gone a while. Eat, drink, fuck, repeat.

I zone out, leaving the others to continue their usual shite when they talk about the lads. Finishing up, I stand with my tray and head to the tray return carts, Laura shouts and tells me I will be joining them tonight and that it's final. Fuckin’ a! Wherever the lads will be, so will we, the sodding groupies they are. Though it won't take much to be out the way, they're only headed to a pub. No need to dress to impress.

Walking away from my table I steel myself, walking past Riley and his lot. I resist the urge to gob in his food, as usual. I would have done it years ago, but I've risen above that version of myself. I do however afford a quick glance down and I'm met with ochre orbs, his ochre eyes. This time I yield and look away, not wanting to walk into someone with a tray full leftover dinner.

Later I find myself freshly showered, the weather keeps flip-flopping so I decide on shorts with a tank and a hoodie with my favourite trainers. It's still warm and humid enough to warrant the summer gear, but as August stretches through to September there's a chill in the air. I look at myself in the mirror, my hair tousled and low key smokey eyes. I almost feel like I should scrub the makeup off, I'm in my mid thirties, why am I dressing like I'm fifteen years younger.

We all bundle in the taxi for fifteen minutes it takes for us to get to the town centre in Hereford. I listen as the others plan and scheme where the lads are, I give the usual non committal noises they'd expect but eventually I put my proverbial foot down. “Look, I don't want to spend all night with you lot drooling over them. We'll get pre-drinks at The Queen's Arms, some of you will get a quickie I'm sure, and then we should go somewhere better to spend our time.”

I'm met with eye rolls and smirks, it's no secret I'm not enthralled by the lads on the task force, and even under duress when plied with copious drinks I've still not spilt the beans. Finally the taxi pulls over and we hop out, the fare being prepaid since it was a group booking. I stay behind to organise a return journey later before following the girls into the pub. We're met with a wall of sound, almost raucous, as we filter in and find a table. I see Riley actually enjoying himself around the pool table for once.

Pt.3

[orcbardneeul]

Barrens finally found a good spot to set up their stuff. Stop offering to help him even out his sunscreen, he said he likes it like this.

(Uncompressed version on twitter)

(🎨:@Midnight_Orbis on twitter [nsfw])

[gensokyogarden]

"Fear not, I've prepared gallons of water for tonight's dinner."

"Please no! The spice will burn my hands away as I clean the dishes."

"I've heard many tales of the artisan quality of our guardian's cooking skills. I can only hope it will live up to my expectations."

"As much as I'd love to try lady Meiling's cooking, we goblins are only adapted to English cuisine. We went to the hills long before the human's quest for spices began."

"I'm sure it can't be that spicy. Dragons from the east are watery instead of firey ain't they? Get too hot and poor Meiling will evaporate."

"Actually, I think you'll soon learn that spicy and hot are different characteristics."

This is making me suddenly realize just how many ocs I have in the SDM.

[shark-myths]

do you have any book recs for books about girls that feel like girl out boy. i want to read about girls but i don't want to read about fall out boy yk

I love this question! I am constantly seeking for books that feel like Girl Out Boy because I want to live in that muggy girlspace at all times. These cut a wide swath of genres and probably only 2 of them are genuine read-alikes in tone; the rest share a headspace or ethos or were otherwise important in shaping that world. I would love to collect other peoples’ recommendations on this question, so please chime in!

Nonfiction:

Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl by Carrie Brownstein

Any book by Melissa Febos

Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers by Sady Doyle

The First Collection of Criticism by a Living Female Rock Critic by Jessica Hopper

The Riot Grrrl Collection ed. by Lisa Darms

Fiction:

The Scapegracers series by H.A. / August Clarke—the most GOB thing I have ever read in my life!

Supper Club by Lara Williams

Anything Resembling Love by S. Qiouyi Lu

We Were Witches by Ariel Gore

It Goes Like This by Miel Moreland

Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo

You Know I’m No Good by Jessie Ann Foley

When We Were Magic by Sarah Gailey

The Summer of Jordi Perez by Amy Spalding

Juliet Takes a Breath by Gabby Rivera

Pages for You by Sylvia Brownrigg

The First Rule of Punk by Celia C. Perez

Moxie by Jennifer Mathieu

Ramona Blue by Julie Murphy

We Are Okay by Nina LaCour

Girl Mans Up by M.E. Girard

Passing Strange by Ellen Klages

Girls on Fire by Robin Wasserman

Post-Traumatic by Chantal V. Johnson

Comics:

Bitch Planet by Kelly Sue DeConnick

Squad by Maggie Tokuda-Hall

Man-Eaters by Chelsea Cain

Paper Girls by Brian K Vaughn

Girl Town by Casey Nowak

The Deep Dark by Molly Knox Ostertag

Okay, I'm stopping myself now, because this is clearly just becoming a "Book About Women Sharks Want You To Read". And I could go on, and on, and on. Please let me know if you read and like any! Reading and talking about reading are my favorite things in the world.

Go forth and read about girls!

[themarginalthinker]

Undertow

Laddie and the Boys go beach combing. Laddie shows Dwayne some shells he found.

-

Hey guys! Back with another one! A cute scene between Dwayne and Laddie I've had in my head for forever, and finally getting around to writing it.

However, before the drabble, there are a couple of things I'd like to say about specifically our version of Dwanye here:

In our headcanons and worldbuilding, Dwayne is Native Canadian, from the Haida people of Haida Gwaii off the coast of BC Canada. In this drabble, he tells Laddie a story of Raven. I, nor my co-author, are Indigenous. The information on the story nominally comes from the University of British Columbia and the Canadian Museum of History. Here and here.

As someone who is not part of the culture and wishes to be respectful, I am open to concrit and suggestions for how to change or improve the character's representation or dialogue, and corrections about the presentation of the story or alternate sources of information!

As always, thank you. :>

When Laddie runs back to him, he's covered in sand.

"Did you fall in?" Dwayne asks with a laugh at the sight of the boy. The large shirt they'd cut down to size that still hung off his small frame was soaked, a smear of red, slimy algae coating the lower edge. His shorts, that were at least made for his small stature, are no better, wet on the front at the backside. There's sand coating Laddie's legs up to his knees and crusted on his forearms. Dwayne will end up brushing out his hair later and come away with enough to make a sandcastle, he's sure.

Laddie is grinning from ear to ear, though. He rushes to Dwayne, barefoot on the deserted beach. The epitome of a child in summer.

"Paul was giving me a piggy back ride and Marko pushed him and we all fell in the water!" Laddie says as he comes close.

Dwayne raises an eyebrow and looks up, to the pair further down the way. Paul and Marko are dancing around each other, feet barely touching the surf as the waves flow and ebb, pants rolled up to their knees and similarly barefoot to avoid soggy boots. They laugh, call each other names that Dwayne is glad Laddie is out of earshot for, and attempt to toss each other into the waves - or failing that, throwing gobs of wet sand at each other. Their jackets are stashed at the bikes that they'd parked up the dunes, where the beach turns into rocky outcroppings overlooking the little curve of hidden cove.

Up there, the glow of a lit cigarette brightens and dims with each pull on it, David huffing out the smoke as he watches the dark ocean and his pack, away from the grit and dampness.

Dwayne thinks priss, and even from this distance, he can see David pause in his smoking and shoot a look down at him. Dwayne just smirks and turns back to Laddie.

"Find anything good before they started being idiots?" He asks.

Laddie nods, and holds up the plastic yellow toy bucket in his hands, rattling its contents. Inside is a collection of shells and stones, glinting under the moonlight, washed clean.

"Uh huh! They showed me the best tide pools. Look! Paul even found some alive snails!"

Laddie reaches in and wedges one off the side of the bucket where it had been attempting to make its escape, the creature sliding wetly back into its shell to hide at his touch. The shell is striped orange and brown and faintly pink at the edges, pretty. Dwayne hums his approval at the treasure, though knowing Laddie might want to toss it back when he's told he can either let it die and keep the shell, or have to give it up anyway because, according to David, "Marko's flying rats are enough."

Dwayne glances into the bucket, pawing through them himself to see what else Laddie had managed to find.

A good handful of seaglass, blues and browns, worn smooth and frosty with the endless sands and waters. There were a good number of cockle shells, small and grey and pretty, a couple spiraling augers like little unicorn horns, a broken half of a scallop, and cowry shells jingling like coins in his palm. One, two, three four, five-

Dwayne closes his eyes, and takes a breath, banishing the numbers from his head. Waiting until the urge to count, count, count passed.

When he opens his eyes again, he sees something else, near the bottom of the bucket, grey and round and unassuming.

Dwayne reaches in and pulls it out, tugging off some seaweed clinging to it, scraping off the sand coating the inside so the pearly white interior is better seen.

A clam shell, dead and empty, but still attached by the connecting hinge.

"Hey Laddie," Dwayne says, "do you wanna hear a story?"

Laddie, previously entranced with the crawl of the whelk on his hand, leaving wet little trails along his skin, looks up.

"Yeah!" He nods his head, long sun-streaked hair flying around his ears. Dwayne reaches out and hooks a truly wayward lock behind his ear. If he wasn't careful he'd start to look like a mini Paul, and then where would they be.

Dwayne rubs the clam shell between his thumb and finger, and the words come quietly.

"A long time ago, when the world was very new, there was Raven. And because the world was so new, Raven was alone."

He lets the count of each pass of his fingers keep the words from catching behind his teeth. Letting them pass.

"One day, Raven flew down to the beach, where he watched the waves come in and out. He didn't find anything new, anything to catch his interest. He very well may have left, if something new hadn't caught his sight, at the last moment."

Laddie tilts his head, eyes intent, on Dwayne and the shell.

"There was a clam shell in the sand, but not like any other shell Raven had ever seen. It moved around, wiggling like no clam ever did. There was something in it."

"What?" Laddie asks, the conspiratorial tone Dwayne had unintentionally adopted having wormed into his own curiosity. Dwayne smiles with him. Leaning in a little. Thirty one passes of his thumb, thirty two passes, thirty three-

"Well, Raven flies down, and he lands on the shell. He pecks it, he prods it, he tries to see it all. And when he tries to open it, a hand comes out! Inside the clam shell are creatures that Raven has never seen before. Very strange looking, too. Bare skin instead of fur or feathers or scales, and just one patch of long black hair, the same color as him. When they see Raven, they are very afraid, and want to stay in the shell, but Raven calls them out. The world is very big, but Raven wants friends, and eventually, they emerge. The first people in the world."

As he has spoken, Dwayne's soothing of the shell hasn't stopped, the numbers in his head keep ticking up. He's smiling down at the shell in his hand, hearing the hush of the ocean nearby. The words come easy, as a scar on his palm catches on the edge of the clam.

"That's a funny story," Laddie says. His smile has turned into a little contemplative frown, shifting from foot to foot as he waits for Dwayne to finish.

Dwayne blinks.

"Yeah, it is, huh."

"Hey! Laddie! Over here!"

Laddie turns around as Paul calls out from down the beach, he and Marko crouching by some big, flat rocks, poking at a pool. Waving to him to come and see and fill his bucket more.

Dwayne breathes.

"If you find any more shells small enough, you can ask nicely for Marko to make them into a bracelet for you," Dwayne tells Laddie, standing up properly. Laddie's eyes sparkle at the idea, and he nods vigorously again, hair flying back out of place from his ear. He's off before Dwayne can reach out to put it back, legs kicking up sand as he runs, bucket of finds swinging.

Dwayne watches him go, and only realizes he's still holding the clam shell when the edge digs into his fingers. Held too tight in his hand.

Looking back out at the dark ocean, Dwayne pulls his arm back, and throws.

-

"Laddie-!" Star exclaims, eyes wide from where she'd looked up from her seat on the bed. She tosses aside the book she'd been reading to rush up to Dwayne.

Laddie is in his arms, barely awake. "Relax, Star," Dwayne shrugs. "It's summer. Let him live, huh?"

Star pointedly looks over the boy, covered in leftovers of the night's escapade from head to foot. Sea salt and sand and stained shirt, hair tied back with a bit of dried kelp of all things - matching Paul's own hair, evidence of the culprit of such a silly thing. A faint smile still on his face as his hands barely keep hold of his bucket.

With a sigh, Star just reaches forward and gently lays a hand on Laddie's back. "Fine. But you're washing it all tomorrow. Child included."

"Fair enough."