#Haul-Out

[teaboot]

Wait you had autism and still got along with the other kids and knew what was going on with them?? I was never able to do that! I still chose to do my own thing but would have been unable to answer those questions.

I mean I didn't really WANNA make friends for a super long time so it didn't really matter? And if anyone was outright mean I don't think I noticed till like 6th grade.

After 6th a few other kids liked to throw or kick things at my face or steal my art supplies or give me mean nicknames- I remember almost all the boys in my class one year started a thing where if I got within 4 feet of them they'd yell "[tea] GERMS!" and make a dramatic mad-dash escape, and that was kinda hurtful, but IDK how long that was a thing??

Anyhow I started asking them if they had a crush on me or if they were just stupid, and when they asked what I meant I'd just be like "well there's two reasons boys act stupid around girls. Either you have a crush on me, or you're just always this stupid"

And that invariably led to them yelling "I'm stupid, I'm stupid!" or telling me, "I'd rather say I'm stupid than say I like you!"

Which might have been hurtful if I wasn't growing into a mild superiority complex that assured me I was smarter than them, and nicer than them, and there was really no need to desire the approval of stupid, mean people.

(This was, of course, backed up by the fact that my father was one of those mean, stupid sorts of people, and I fully beleived if I could handle him, I could handle anyone my size, and so what if you dont like me? My own dad doesnt like me, am i supposed to value your opinion?)

Then by highschool I got hot, and if one of them started chatting me up I'd just be like "You wrote in my yearbook in 2002 that I was a huge loser. Why would I want to hang out with you"

And by THEN I'd met enough genuinely fun, interesting people who actually liked me that I was never around anyone who openly disliked me anyways.

Not until I started to realize I wasn't 100% a girl and cut my hair off- Then I started hearing other girls whispering to each other that I looked like a lesbian- gasp- which, again, was actually pretty funny, 'cause then I'd just tell them not to get their hopes up 'cause I wasn't available.

Then I graduated, and moved, and it turns out I'm actually kind of hot funny smart and successful, and whenever I fall into the deep deep pit of dumb ugly stupid imposter-syndrome, I remember that as mean as other kids were sometimes, their parents thought I was the best.

So anyways get fucked Gabe from ninth grade, your mom used to give me candy and bail me out of detention. I had the biggest fucking crush on your mom dude

[demigods-posts]

think it'd be really cool if percy could teleport using water. just needing to be in direct contact with a water source to transfer from one puddle to the next. cornering monsters in damp alleyways like it's no one's business. foregoing the subway when the forecast calls for showers. crossing the ocean quicker that you can say pacific. quality content.

[muirmarie]

jim being canonically the shortest one of the triumvirate is genuinely so important to me lmao, like yesssssss, let that beefy babe be shorter than both his boyfriends!!!!

[thebreakfastgenie]

I think protests can be extremely effective but I think the reason more of them aren't is a lot of them are fundamentally emotional expressions and not highly disciplined actions with clear strategy and specific goals.

[aidenwaites]

If I may I'd like to recommend a single player ttrpg I tried out tonight, VOID 1680 AM, a game about running a radio broadcast and building a playlist using a deck of cards and a six-sided die

[galadrieljones]

Inquisitor,

I am writing this from Minrathous. We found him. We found Solas. Or, we found a pretty damn good lead.

When it comes down to it, I'll do my best. I'll try to reason with him, but I fear we may need you, Freckles. You may be the only one he'll hear.

I'll write again when it's done, and in the meantime, take care of yourself. We all love you. Never forget it.

-Varric

[pastelpaperplanes]

soft body practice (and I guess bit of a scar map too) for a handful of the Thorns and Thrones cast

[rad-roche]

It's Valentine's day! You there, browsing the tag. Have you ever thought 'I like Nick Valentine, but I wish he starred in two novels lovingly written in the prose style of a detective noir from 1943, and so help me God, I don't want to pay a cent for it?' No! Nobody has! What an unusually specific dream!

But it's too late, I've already written them.

More than that, I've filled them with art, too.

If this sounds like something you'd like, you can find the full series (the two books and two small side stories) here.

[bamsara]

trying to figure out if the continued nausea is related to intense stress and travel schedule or something simple like food poisoning or an infection

[ghostingking]

quick ghost king danny sketch! i need to actually sit down and think about how he should look because this just seems far too basic

[kaizsche]

GLEN POWELL in CHAD POWERS HULU

[starrspice]

Is this anything?

[johnconstantinesdick]

I get the criticism of the Hunters of Artemis from a narrative perspective—it sucks that it essentially boots interesting female characters out of the story—but it always baffles me when people viciously hate Artemis for *checks notes* doing damage control.

Like. Thalia explicitly goes with Artemis to avoid the prophecy, and I definitely think that’s the reason Artemis tried so hard to get her to join—hell, you can view the hunters trying to recruit Annabeth as a way to get Thalia to join. And Bianca? You can’t convince me that Artemis didn’t guess there was something up there and react accordingly.

If Percy or Nico were even a little bit girl-adjacent you bet your ass she would be all over them to join. No one actually wants to risk the Great Prophecy happening, and Artemis is doing a hell of a lot more to stop it than anyone else.

[pricegouge]

Thinking about them cumming in readers underwear and having her wear it around

I feel like Price would love the claiming aspect of it but I think Ghost or Gaz would just be annoyed the underwear is in the way of easy access

I feel like Johnny would enjoy huffing and licking them😌

-🫀

Never enough that they're gross, is it? They just gotta make doll a mess, too.

Cw: dubcon. Squirting. Gaz calls it piss so take that as you will. No ageplay here but the panties are cutesy and reader doesn't like it. Cum play/implied eating. Extremely light spit kink. Degradation. Praise, but not for reader. Cuckolding? Free use. Please lmk if I forgot anything this is way too long and way too nasty.

It's rare that Kyle initiates so you should've known he was up to something when he pulled you in close for a kiss. He's so good at it though that you forgot to be suspicious, just reveled in his soft lips and warm hands until he got your bottoms off, slid a finger under the scalloped edging of your panties. "These are cute," he said with a sly grin and you might've rolled your eyes, if you didn't know what it would earn you.

Cute was one word for them, you supposed. Borderline childish would be another. They're not egregious. Pale blue cotton briefs with white clouds dotting them. The trim is minimal, doesn't even scratch at your skin, thankfully, but it's the only thing about them that could possibly be construed as a concession to maturity. Still, you thank him for the compliment instead of telling him how they make you feel completely sexless. You move to take them off for him but his hand catches your wrist, uses his grip to turn you over onto all fours.

"Let's leave 'em on, luv," he hums and you bite back a sigh. At least in this position you don't really have to see them, you think, but he makes it hard to ignore their presence when he starts rubbing his leaky cock into the fabric of your gusset. "Fuck, that's hot," he groans, but doesn't take his time to enjoy it, slotting his cock under the hem so he can rub himself between your cheeks instead. 

It's the noises he makes that get you wet more than anything, the soft huffs when his sensitive head catches on the edging and the tiny, shaky moans he lets loose every time you feel the warmth of his precum bloom across your skin. He can see it, no doubt - the pale fabric clinging to his cock as it begins to soak. He knows instinctively when you start to leak, long fingers wrapping around your hip to rub your pussy through the thin layer. The cotton feels different when it's coated with your juices - almost softer when he works it against your clit. He teases you about it, about how he doesn't even need to touch your pussy properly to get you soaked. You can't really argue with him so you don't, shame licking up your spine when he slots his cock into you unexpectedly - bottoming out in one slow thrust as he keeps working your clit with that rough scrape of fabric and you can't help it, your release soaking you both as it drips down your legs. 

"Shit," Gaz growls, his cock pushed out of your cunt by how hard you try to squeeze him. He slots himself between your cheeks again, free hand laying flat over your ass to give himself something to thrust between. When he cums, he pulls back enough that you can feel it drip onto the rim of your hole, hot and slick where he works his tip against it. It catches once and you squirm away, prompting Kyle to crack you on the ass. It stings, the wet material of your panties doing nothing to help. You yelp, but remain obediently still for him as he winds himself down until he sighs, borderline affectionate.

You roll over when he climbs off you, eager to clean yourself up after the mess he's made but Kyle grabs your hands yet again and tuts at you. "Told you they're cute. Leave 'em on."

He takes some pity when you wrinkle your nose, kneeling before you to soak up most of the mess from your legs and tummy with the soiled blanket. You thank him prettily, hoping if you appease him he'll leave sooner and you can change out of your panties, but Gaz doesn't even seem to listen, pulling a big sharpie out of his pocket instead of acknowledging you. 

"What're you -?"

The felt tip is surprisingly cool when it meets your skin. Gaz's handwriting is neat, making it easy for you to read as he scrawls the word 'cumdump' across your belly. You gape down at him, and the bastard has the audacity to wink as he etches a singular tally mark into your thigh. 

"Gaz!" you shriek, testing your limits, but he just laughs, throwing your pants at you.

"You keep those on. And you keep this," he wags the marker at you, "in your pocket, yeah? Make sure everyone adds to your little collection." 

You're shaking your head before you can even think it through and Gaz pinches the fat on the back of your thigh aggressively. 

"You will, because I'm going to be checking throughout the day to make sure, and if you're not wearing them, or if they're not getting messier, I'm gonna make you lick them clean," he promises. "Dried, tacky cum, piss stains and all."

"That's not fair," you gripe, already pulling your pants on. "I can't control whether or not the others wanna fuck me."

"Well then I guess you better be sweet on 'em, hm?"

***

The panties are absurdly uncomfortable. With your pants on, the thick spend doesn't dry out as easily as you'd hoped it would and worse, the possibility that anyone could potentially smell your wet cunt makes your face heat - makes you drip like a faucet, honestly, but in the end, it's not the smell that does you in. 

You hadn't considered the jeans Gaz had thrown at you for longer than it took to ascertain you (blessedly) wouldn't be wearing a skirt today. When you'd pulled them on, you'd felt nothing but relief for how well-covered you were, not wanting to wander the warehouse in something they could easily push aside because they often did, and if you weren't allowed to clean yourself up after, it would've been a complete nightmare. But in your short-lived elation, you'd failed to notice how pale the wash of the jeans was, how easily wet marks would show.

Simon notices before you do, stalking silently behind you as you move about the small kitchen making sandwiches. No warning, he grabs you by the seat of your pants, big hand worming its way between your thighs to rub thick fingers along the seam of your crotch. His voice is a low pur when he rumbles in your ear, "Need help with that, pet?"

It should shock you - would've even just a few months ago. You've grown used to them now, no longer surprised when they accost you like this. It's one of the few reasons you're allowed to handle butter knives now - because you don't spin around, brandishing it at him wildly.

"No thanks, almost done here," you tell him, calmly assembling the last sandwich. John's, to be eaten later when he was off the phone. 

Simon just chuckles, a little mean. "Not what I meant."

This time, when he pushes his fingers against your seam, you can feel how wet it is against your own skin. You squawk, your first instinct to apologize for some reason. Simon shushes your stuttering with a kiss, his tongue hot and wet even through the material of his mask. 

Simon doesn't usually like a show. Normally, he'll sequester you in a back room, or seek you out in your own when the others have all gone to bed. He changes his tune when his hands get a little too busy, tug your hem up just enough that he catches a glimpse of the ink that stains your skin. He frowns, backing up enough he can read Gaz's mark properly while you sit there and squirm. 

You don't make it to a back room.

"Fuckin' slag," Simon hisses, shoving your jeans down your hips. His fingers find the band of your briefs, pull as if he intends to tear them.

"Wait!" you plead, fingers wrapping around his wrist as if you have any chance of stopping him. It does give him pause, though, more curious as to what could possibly be so important it made you forget your place. "Gaz said I had to leave those on."

The band snaps against your skin when Simon releases it, but he cocks his head at you, undecided. "And why the fuck do I care what Gaz wants?"

"Please, he said he'd make me lick them clean if I took them off."

Expression still thoughtful, Simon pulls at the band again until he can inspect the gusset, eyes glinting when he looks back up at you. "Not seeing a downside for me."

Shit. "I'll let you add to my tally." 'Let' is a strong word and you both know it, though Simon likely doesn't know Gaz expected you to have it added anyway.

"Not much of a cumdump," Simon points out, thumb brushing the single mark on your thigh. 

You bat your eyes at him, overselling but desperate to appeal to his good side. You really don't want to clean these off. "Help me out then?" 

He fucks your thighs. Stood up in the kitchen and squeezing him as best you can, you end up having to hold onto his burly biceps for dear life as he rocks you against his heavy cock, spilling into your panties without so much as a pinch to your clit. 

***

You're back in your room when Gaz finds you. He pulls your pants off and inspects your underwear much like Simon had, grinning up at you when he says he's just checking. He spits in them before he lets you pull them back into place.

***

"Johnny, don't, Gaz said to keep them on." The worst thing about Soap was how little he listened. The best thing was that you were generally allowed to slap his hands away from you, so long as John or Simon didn't see. Johnny himself never seemed to mind too much, always bouncing back. Overeager.

"But she's so wet, bonnie. Can smell her. Need a taste."

You were, was the worst of it. Leaking like a sieve ever since Simon had left you wanting. It was why you'd retired to your gross little room, too embarrassed to be seen with such an obvious, growing wet spot on your crotch. Suddenly, it's hard to remember why letting Johnny lick you clean is a bad idea. "Well, maybe if you slide them to the side?"

You barely have time to register his movements, he's on you so fast. 

The first pass of his tongue is so slick you almost don't feel it beyond the intense heat. Johnny moans, smacks his lips like a child enjoying a cookie, and then dives back in so enthusiastically you can't help but grip his hair, holding him in place as he immediately starts in on the messiest technique he can manage, pulling your slick from you with a cupped tongue just so he can rub his raw stubble against your sticky skin. He moans when you do, breath humid and hot against your skin. You hold your panties off to the side for him, the wetness there dragging against the crease of your hip. It's all so messy, but you can't help rocking your hips up to meet Johnny's tongue, groaning in frustration when he pulls away and -

"Nobody ever teach you how a cumdump works, boy?"

John. He's holding Soap up by the back of his shirt, as if the massive man was nothing more than a spitting kitten, his eyes heavy on the mess between your legs. 

"Sir -."

"Supposed to add to it, Soap, not clean it up." A heavy palm guides Johnny to the floor, patting him affectionately when he settles on his knees, eyes darting nervously between you and the captain. "All that spit, just watering down Gaz's collection."

"Wasnae -."

"Quiet. You watch now, yeah? Show you how to treat a fucking whore."

You know better than to gripe about his words, so you don't. And you know better than to fight him when he snaps your panties back into place, so you let him. Johnny, however, doesn't know better than to whine when John's fingers find your clit, start rubbing the soaked fabric against your neglected nub much like Gaz had earlier. You bite your tongue, but Johnny doesn't - a sharp huff drawing John's attention away for just a moment.

"Don't wanna hear it, Soap."

"Sir, can ah -?"

"No."

This time Johnny's whine coincides with John's thumb dropping lower, dipping the fabric of your panties into your pussy experimentally. Your breath stutters, loud enough that John's eyes snap to your face. Cold, hard. Unsympathetic. He speaks to Johnny but he never looks away from you.

"Behave and I'll let you lick them clean after."

You perk up, the possibility of your punishment being taken from you by the captain - who Gaz could not reproach - making you just as eager to please as Soap himself was. Though you were a little better about hiding it than the man who thanked John repeatedly from his place on the floor.

"Thank ye, cap. Thank ye -."

"That's enough."

"Aye, sir."

Finally, John's focus returns to his actions, watching almost reverently as you soak the material even more. Quietly, as if he doesn't want Soap to hear, he rumbles at you about getting them good and wet and you nod, eager to let Johnny take your punishment.

And then he slaps your mound lightly, breaking the nearly intimate spell between you. "But we have to show the boy how to treat a slut like you, don't we? Which means you're gonna cum on my cock, or not at all."

You groan in frustration, laying back limply as John clutches the gusset of your panties and pulls them aside (hypocrite). He doesn't bother working you open, knows exactly what state you've been left in by the slick that squelches between his fingers where he fists your briefs. Still, John's big, and the stretch leaves you breathless enough you feel punched out, hollow when he gives you no time to adjust before drawing out again, slamming back into you even more brutally.

True to his word, John does not work to bring you pleasure. The way he fucks you is efficient at best, downright punishing at worst. Regardless, worked up as you are, you find your release when his knuckles graze your clit accidentally, and John laughs at you cruelly as you fall apart beneath him. 

"Knew you were a fucking slag," he grunts, pulling out and fisting his cock until he paints your pussy, rocking against it a few times just to make you both twitch in overstimulation. 

It takes you both a moment to realize the slick sounds don't stop when he does, and a quick glance at Johnny tells you why when you find him fucking his own fist, face twisted in pleasure as he eyes your soaked pussy.

"You waste that on the floor and I'll make you lick that up too," John growls, and suddenly you're being manhandled to the ground, spread open in front of Soap while John holds your legs open.

The chords of Soap's neck jump when he cums, pumping himself directly onto the front of your panties. 

"Good boy, Soap. Just like that," John rumbles. Your gut twists, unexpectedly jealous. "See how much better it is when you don't worry about her pleasure?"

"Aye, sir," Johnny pants, looking dazed enough to agree with anything. 

"That's right, cause she's just our little cumdump, isn't she?" He makes you jump when he slaps you pussy for emphasis before hooking his fingers under the band of your panties, sliding them down.

"Ready for your reward?"

[theostrophywife]

author's note: sub! lorenzo brought to you by me and @writingsbychlo. this was a team effort and a little sneak peek at our feral chats. if you couldn't already tell, we both need to be institutionalized 🤍

sub! lorenzo who is completely whipped for his honey, who carries your bags and holds your hand in the halls and kisses you before and after every class. who is the perfect gentleman and the best boyfriend ever. who never forgets an anniversary or birthday, who proudly claims you as his girl, who loves that you’re an asshole to everyone but him.

sub! lorenzo who trails after you like a lovesick puppy while you lead him by his tie, the same tie that you use to bind him to his bed, smirking as he squirms.

sub! lorenzo who loves when you mark him up. who wears the scratches on his back and the hickeys on his neck proudly because they’re from his honey.

sub! lorenzo who gets down on his knees, tears glistening in his pretty brown eyes, lower lip trembling as he begs to fuck you.

sub! lorenzo who moans and whimpers as he watches you get yourself off on his cock, using him as your own personal fuck toy.

sub! lorenzo who gets needy for his girl’s attention and will act up just to get it. dragging your hand to his crotch in the middle of the hall table during dinner, squeezing your hand in his over his cock, and just whispering please because he knows he can get you with those big brown eyes.

sub! lorenzo who sighs happily, smug almost, as you rub him through his jeans. bucking his hips up into your hand, leaning his head on your shoulder, face pressed into your neck as he pants and sighs happily little sounds in what looks to everyone else like a sweet couple’s embrace.

sub! lorenzo who whines against your neck when you slow your pace. now that he’s all hard and needy, and he’s holding your wrist, rocking his hips into your palm, desperate for anything, for more of your touch, bucking his hips against your hand. we have to be quiet, enz. you can do that for mommy, can’t you, pretty boy?

sub! lorenzo who bites his lip so hard that he draws blood, his head lolling against the table as he cums all over your fingers. who is hard as fuck again as you lick your fingers clean, sucking up every part of him with an innocent little smile. so impatient, aren’t you? you’ll pay for that, pretty boy. 

sub! lorenzo who gets taught a lesson that night when you won’t let him come for hours, keeping him right there on the edge with your hand, your mouth, your pussy.

sub! lorenzo who loves to be degraded, who gets so fucking turned on when you deny him. who crawls on his hands and knees because you commanded him to. you’ve been bad, lorenzo and bad boys don’t get to cum. look at you, begging to be touched. rutting against the bed for relief. whining for me to bounce on your cock. if you wanted me to fuck you, then you shouldn’t have touched yourself without my permission. oh, are you crying, honey? so fucking pathetic.

sub! lorenzo who cries, tears running down his cheeks, gasping and messy as you tease him with your hand once again, he’s so hard it hurts but he loves it.

sub! lorenzo who mumbles and pleads, he’s bartering, trying to make up for his behaviour. sit on my face, mommy, let me make up for it! I’ll be good, please just give me a chance…

sub! lorenzo who eats like a starved man when you finally sit on his face, making you come once, chasing you as you pull away, tugging you back down and making you scream as he throws you right into a second orgasm off the bat because he loves eating you out so much.

sub! lorenzo who gasps for breath, panting while you suck him off, fighting the urge to fuck your throat, gripping your hair for dear life and whining when you hold his hips down, bringing him to the edge without letting him cum. feeling so overstimulated as you edge him again and again. not yet, pretty boy. I know, I know. feels good, but it’ll feel even better when I let you cum inside me, hm?

sub! lorenzo who groans when you finally sink down into him, his pretty eyes rolling to the back of his head. oh fuck. honey, please. feels so good. I want to cum so bad. please, please, mommy. I’ve been so good. can I cum inside you?

sub! lorenzo who holds his breath as you kiss him, sloppy and filthy, your tongue claiming his while you ride him. nails raking down his chest as you leave hickeys all over his neck, tugging at his earlobe with your teeth. of course you can, baby. you’ve earned it. you’re my good boy. do whatever you want to me, sweetheart. stuff me full, fill me up. I want every drop. I want you leaking out of me, honey.

sub! lorenzo who shudders as he cums, whole body spasming and twitching, biting into your shoulder, jaw hanging open, eyes rolled back as he cries and sobs and shouts your name. whimpering as you whisper praises to him, blinking as he leaves his fucking body as he loses himself to pleasure.

sub! lorenzo who is still whimpering, rubbing his wet cheeks on your bare chest to dry then after as he mumbles thank you over and over again like hail marys because he just came so hard he saw god.

sub! lorenzo watching with a little smile as he leaks out of you, so much of it, as you tremble a bit in aftershock on the bed. love watching you spilling all my cum. so pretty.

sub! lorenzo who lets you lead him into the bathtub, cuddling close while you sprinkle rose petals and pink himalayan salt into the water, kissing your neck and letting you lather shampoo into his hair. you take such good care of me, honey. I love you so fucking much, y/n.

sub! lorenzo who stares at you with so much love as you kiss his temple. of course, baby. I’ll always take care of you. anything for the best boy. I love you, lorenzo. you’re mine and i’m yours.

[thenookspace]

God fucking damnit I misread sith Obi-wan as siren Obi-wan ONCE and now I have THOUGHTS about small town siren Obi-wan disguising himself as an eccentric music tutor/boardwalk busker to explore the ~human world~