#also pay no mind if there is mistakes

[messylustt]

݁   𓂃 ៸៸៸ and kisses? — miguel o’hara + reader: you finally confront jessy, showing him just how much he means to you (nothing). miguel wants to give you time, but he just can’t hold back.

contents : break up. mentions of cheating. kinda possessive!miguel?? making out. wc 3.6k.

pt one pt two pt three

you ran your thumbs over your palms, trying to smooth out the sweat that had begun to gather. you shouldn’t feel this nervous, you weren’t the one in the wrong. but you just can’t help feeling that dread at the prospect of confronting jessy. he had cheated. you have every right. but, no matter how many times you reminded yourself of this your lips only pressed harder together.

you watched as jessy walked out of a portal, smiling and laughing with the other spider variants. he has always been a very social person. center of attention type of guy. and at first that was what you were attracted to. you had loved him introducing you to his friends and bringing you along to ‘catch up’s’. but now you feel more so like a show pony. brought out because people always said ‘oh, she’s so sweet’.

you had begun to feel disgusted. and now miguel’s words have kept you up at night. ‘break up with him’ ‘more prominent’. what the hell had he meant by that? suddenly jessy’s arm moves to loop around your neck making your body jolt. “hey, babe.” he murmurs far too close to your ear that you have to actually hold back from grimacing. you paste on a smile, your words not quite prepared yet. “hey, jessy.”

he doesn’t notice your reluctance to his touch, he doesn’t notice the way your voice betrays your true feelings. but he does. your gaze unintentionally flickers over to where you knew miguel would be debriefing a group. the moment you do you can feel your breathing hitch. miguel is stood, eyes fixated on you. even as he speaks, his gaze doesn’t waver. only once to glare at jessy’s arm. you swiftly look away, focusing on jessy as you realise that he had said something, his gaze expectant.

“sorry, what was that?” you ask. and now finally does jessy notice that somethings off. but you aren’t ready. you don’t want him to ask ‘are you okay?’ or ‘what’s wrong’, because then that would mean you’d have to blurt out the whole speech you had prepared, one that your worried mind is slowly forgetting. jessy brushes your hair away, tucking it behind your ear before he says. “i’m busy tonight. thought i’d just let you know in case you wanted me all to yourself.” his tone is overly cocky, almost faking the joke he slipped in there. how had you ever fallen in love him?

your smile widens as you chuckle. god, you hope that he didn’t catch the forcefulness practically dripping off. “no worries. can i ask why?” you look up at him, your smile overly sweet as you hold back from asking the questions you really wanted to know. how many times? and for how long? inside, your smile is turning sour, as you wait. jessy scratches the back of his head, darting his gaze around. “just hanging out my friends. you know, guys night.”

“oh.” you nod, pretending to understand. ‘the guys’ equals her. “well, have fun, then.” jessy nods, giving you a once over, before he pulls you in, leaning in for a kiss he expects you to reciprocate. “i’m busy too.” you quickly say, making him pause. you catch the confusion in his eyes. because you had never been busy when it hadn’t included him. “oh? what are you doing?” jessy now forces a smile.

you step back, and his gaze darkens a fraction. these details you are just now noticing. and you realise that miguel’s words may have maybe effected you a little more than you had initially thought. your gaze again flickers over to miguel. the spider group had dispersed, and miguel is stood, talking to jess. but again the moment you look over, his gaze shifts to you. you stand there, staring back, forgetting that jessy was waiting for an answer, and instead remembering the way miguel’s arms felt wrapped arou—

you snap your gaze back to jessy, who is eyeing you with very clear confusion and something else that has his gaze shifting to where you were looking. but you speak before he can spot miguel. “yeah, i’m catching up with a friend.” jessy looks back, brows furrowing. “what friend?”

you fake a gasp, trying to be less obvious in your shift of attitude towards him. “you make it sound like i have no friends, jessy.” you say. jessy pauses but then cracks a smile to your relief. “i didn’t say it outright. your words, not mine.” you reach over and hit his shoulder. “rude.” you mutter. but you can feel jessy’s suspicious gaze now gone all together, until jess and miguel decide to walk over and pay you a visit. make sure your schedule is free for the day tomorrow. we’re expecting to have quite a few anomalies pop up.” jess informs, to which you nod. “of course.”

you don’t let your gaze shift to miguel once. and of course he takes notice. miguel eyes you openly, watching the way you keep your gaze on jess as if he’s not even here. miguel tilts his head, letting his eyes drop down your figure. yes, he’s gotten bolder with his glances, now not worried if people saw. in fact he wanted people to see. namely a certain boyfriend he’s waiting to turn ‘ex’. you hadn’t broken it off yet. and miguel’s patience was wearing thin. he would never tell you this, because his own emotions are too confusing to actually articulate. but that doesn’t stop him from lying awake, holding back from just sending jessy off on a mission that many don’t come back from.

extreme. he’s reached a level of extreme. and the more you put it off, the more miguel’s emotions are becoming visible. whatever those emotions exactly are. “…oh is that what you’re doing? work stuff?” miguel zones into jessy’s words, finally lifting his gaze from your body. jess had walked off between the time spent, leaving just the three of you. jessy is looking at you, all smug as he crosses his arms. “aw, you don’t have to be embarrassed, babe. you could have just said that instead making up how you’re hanging with a friend.”

the moment those words leave jessy’s lips miguel’s jaw clenches. his gaze drills holes into jessy, now actually considering killing him himself. at least then he’d know that the job is done. miguel can see the way your expression cracks. your smile faltering only slightly. and the sight makes miguel’s claws scrap hard against his palms. “i didn’t lie.” you say, trying your best to keep that pretty smile present. and that’s when miguel catches on, reading between the lines and what most likely happened during that conversation you two had had before.

“baaabe, it’s fine.” jessy coos, and miguel wants to rip his tongue out. “she’s not lying.” he says before he can stop himself, or even consider. you shift your gaze to miguel, brows furrowing a moment. jessy shifts his gaze also. “and how would you know?” jessy chuckles, but miguel’s gaze stays cold. “because she’s with me tonight.” the moment those words leave miguel’s lips, jessy’s smug expression falters. the rush miguel got from seeing jessy crack made the smallest of smiles edge his lips.

“what?” jessy tries his best to keep that nonchalant behaviour present, but anyone can tell that he’s losing it, and fast. you stare at miguel, eyes expanded a fraction as you question him indirectly. miguel looks to you. “yeah.” miguel holds your gaze, feeling his heart beat a fraction quicker as he repeats. “she’s with me tonight.” miguel reluctantly shifts his gaze back to jessy who is looking thoroughly confused.

“i didn’t know you two were friends.” jessy says, shifting his gaze to you, as you nibble at your lower lip. “you didn’t?” now miguel is taunting, getting far too much of a high out of this conversation. “we’ve grown quite close actually. she gives the best hugs, doesn’t she?” miguel catches the worried look in jessy’s eyes, and he couldn’t feel more elated. be worried. regret what you lost. because you arent getting her back.

“yeah, she’s great when it comes to physical affection.” jessy’s words are an indirect challenge, and miguel’s beginning of a smile falls, wanting so badly to remove jessy’s voice box. at this point most of jessy’s body parts are removed, and miguel is just waiting for him to completely bleed out.

you stand there eyeing them, as you contemplate just leaving the scene altogether, maybe gather the words you had prepared for jessy. miguel’s presence is all but a reminder of what you will inevitably have to do. as your mind wanders, your gaze zoning out onto the floor a moment, jessy takes a step closer to miguel, looking up at him as he tries to appear more intimidating, before he speaks lowly, out of your earshot. “just because you two have hugged a few times doesn’t mean she’s anything to you. you got that?”

miguel doesn’t flinch at his harsh words, staring down at jessy with eyes that makes him stiffen, and visibly gulp. no matter how prideful jessy gets he’s no match for miguel, and even he knows this. “just because she hasn��t left you yet doesn’t mean she’s anyway near being yours.” jessy’s nose twitches in anger. “yet? you must be blind if you think she’d ever leave me. she loves me.”

miguel’s claws twitch, but before he can speak, you step closer, grabbing jessy’s arm. “come on, let’s go.” you murmur, pulling jessy towards you. miguel shifts his gaze to you. meeting his eyes you catch what used to be a recommendation, a better option, now turned a demand. break up with him.

;;

“jessy, we need to talk.” you finally say after you two had begun to walk back together after lunch. jessy pauses, turning more to face you, as his expression shows underlying disinterest, something you had grown to ignore when you were together. …were together. that was first time you had unintentionally admitted that you weren’t a couple anymore.

“what?” jessy asks, before his gaze gets caught up behind you. you don’t even need to turn around to know who his lustful gaze is focused on. he could at least be more discreet. and now as you watched him imagine fucking another girl your whole prepared, well worded speech flew out the window. he didn’t deserve that attentiveness. “i want to break up.” you said it so simply, watching as his expression halts, before his brows furrowed. a flow of a emotions passes across his face before he looks to you, scoffing.

“funny.” he shakes his head. and he again has the audacity to look behind you. you don’t spare him another glance as you turn and walk away. jessy calls your name, his confusion evident. “where are you going?”

you walk up to the girl your ex boyfriend seems to be infatuated with and smile. “hey, sorry i don’t think we’ve properly met before.” she shifts her gaze to you and her smile instantly falls, before she picks it back up, her smile now a cheesy grin. “i’ve seen you on other missions, i should’ve introduced myself. i’m ronnie.”

“ronnie, nice to meet you.” you glance behind you, watching as jessy stands there, face paler than ever. you then gesture over to him, while shifting your gaze back to ronnie. “he was actually asking for you. you are the girl he fucked in that corner right? i wouldn’t want to get the wrong girl.” your innocent gaze is met by her frozen one. shock isn’t a big enough word as her lips part. “well, come on then, wouldn’t wanna keep him waiting, would you?” you place your hand on her back, guiding her towards him.

the moment her face paled, you knew that she knew of you. even the slip in her smile could have told you that. you step back looking at them both, as they look caught in the middle, unsure of what to do. you let your gaze drop down them both, before you nod. “you two make lovely couple.” your tone isn’t giving away any sadness or embarrassment. even if you may feel it, you would never give jessy that satisfaction of hurting you. if you meant nothing to him, he means nothing to you. and that confirmation feels like a weight lifting off your shoulders.

and as they both stare at you gulping, jessy’s mouth opening to most likely explain, you speak, beginning to step away. “maybe next time do a better job at hiring it.” you shift your gaze solely to ronnie, who’s looking thoroughly embarrassed. “and please don’t be naive enough to think that it won’t happen again. for your sake at least.”

;;

the moment you had found yourself alone you could feel the familiar frog arising in your throat. how the hell had you done that? been able to show no emotion, no, in fact fake sweetness? your subconscious slipped into that far too easily.

as you rest your hand on your head, taking a breath you don’t notice the shadow that looms over you. “jessy’s looking rather…out of it.” miguel’s voice meets your ears as you turn, your stomach suddenly burning up. “ah…you noticed that?” you ask. and by instinct you paste on a smile, until miguel raises his brows. you let your face relax, rubbing your lips together. “i hope that’s not because you kissed him.”

you lightly chuckle, shaking your head. “you know that thought actually makes me want to throw up now.”

you don’t notice it at first but miguel’s lips begin to quirk up at your words, before he’s actually smiling down at you. a proper smile that no one would associate with miguel, ever. “really?” it comes out a murmur, and you finally glance back up at him. his gaze is fixated, but unlike the other times he’s watched you, his eyes are now permanently holding onto you. no restraint can be found. he then takes a step forward as you briefly dart your gaze to the floor. “so, you aren’t together?” he further asks.

you nod. “thanks to you.” you say, watching as he takes another step before glancing back up to his face. your palms have increased in sweat. “thank you.” you confirm. but miguel just shakes his head. and as you wait for him to speak, thinking he would after disagree with something, all you’re left with is a tense silence surrounding you both. “so, uh,” you mutter, glancing around. “i should…” you point behind you in the direction you were heading, but suddenly miguel is very close, and suddenly your feet are sliding back.

and when your back hits the wall your breathing cuts short. miguel runs his tongue along his lower lip his gaze darting everywhere it can. you can almost feel his body heat radiating off of him. he’s so close. he feels even closer then he’s been all those times you’ve hugged. “i want to give you time.” he murmurs, tapping under your chin to lift it. “you deserve that…”

you’re staring up at him, eyes wide, and chest visibly moving quicker. “but, i just…” his hand hasn’t moved from your chin, now gliding along your jawline until he reaches your ear, his hand big enough to practically hold your head. you can feel his claws grazing your skin, as his eyes now show restraint. wavering restraint. “you aren’t anything to him now.” he continues as he now presses his body against yours, his hand slipping to your waist, and making you shiver.

“…and i don’t want anyone else to get a chance.” at his words your brows furrow. “a chance?” you slowly question. but before he manages to get any more words out, his breath having been tickling your lips he finally gives in, capturing your mouth hungrily. maybe a little harsh, but all he wants is to be prominent. more prominent. when you slowly begin to reciprocate, past the initial shock, miguel nearly groans at your willingness.

before you know it you’re being lifted, up into his arms, his hands having slipped down to grab your thighs. your quickly grab onto his shoulders, fully dependent on him, as he pushes you harder against the wall, not having broken the kiss once. he runs his tongue along your lower lip, asking for access. your mind is dizzy, your brain screaming for breath as you force yourself to break away, gripping his shoulders tightly.

but miguel doesnt leave your lips alone for long enough before he’s grabbing your chin and attaching his lips back to yours. “open up.” he murmurs, as your messed up mind forgets to let him in. once his tongue slides into your mouth, his grip tightening on your back as he keeps your legs spread around him, small sounds leave your lips and get muffled by his kisses. miguel manages a grin against your mouth, as you both pant into each other. “a chance to do that.” he breathlessly mutters, pulling you impossibly closer.

you then realise how public you guys are, and your eyes widen, glancing around and behind him. miguel re-directs your chin back to face him. “people.” you say quickly. “others could see.” miguel just tilts his head, running his claw running along random parts of your face as he hums. “mhm.”

“mhm? miguel we’re practically in a work setting.” you move to get down, but he tightens his hold, moving you off the wall as you grab his shoulders tighter. “put me down.”

all he does is bring your face back to his, wrapping his lips around your lower, this time slowly sucking and licking, as you go to protest in worry at being caught. “shh, stop squirming.” he speaks to your mouth, far too distracted in tasting you. with more peppered kisses, your lips are now bright red and swollen, his spit glistening. miguel doesn’t want to let you go. in all honesty he’s a little scared that it’ll be as if it never happened, if you do step back. he can’t have that. even though you don’t realise how deep his attachment to you runs, you have begun to feel it through his touches.

he’s the type to pull you closer if your ex eyes you. he’s the type to remind you what ‘more prominent’ really looks like. maybe you don’t set a definite label. he had said that you deserved a break. but all he meant was the title, the pressure. girlfriend or not, either way you’re gonna be there, hugging him when he’s stressed, kissing him when he grabs your face a certain way, and letting him mutter whatever it is on his mind into your neck, as he leaves marks to make people assume that the title is very much there.

you’re his comfort. he had realised this the first time you had offered him that hug. so maybe it’s your fault for his attachment to you. yeah, he’ll blame you. he’ll blame you for whatever it is he confides in you, it’s your fault that you just make him so fucking comfortable.

and as he continues to kiss you, now tilting your head to the side so that he can access your neck, with his tongue and gliding fangs, he murmurs, pulling you tighter against him. “aren’t you with me tonight?”

his earlier words, his cover for you. “well…i didn’t exactly agree to that.” miguel pulls away from your neck, raising his brows. you press your lips together. miguel mockingly nods. “oh, uh huh. yeah no my bad.” he grabs your neck, pulling your face back to his, as you gasp, his movements fast. and with his breath tickling your lips he whispers. “i meant longer than that.”

he doesn’t want to scare you away, but he just can’t help from confiding in you. “you know how you like to hug people?” you slowly nod, your gaze darting down to his close lips, his one hand on your thigh moving closer to your ass. it’s a better grip anyway. “from now on you don’t like to hug anyone.” he says.

your brows furrow. “what do you mean?” miguel now grabs your ass in both his hands, holding you more firmly against him. “you only like to hug me. you got that, cariño?”

“hugs don’t mean much—“ you begin, but his grip on you tightens, successfully shutting you up. “yes, they do. and your hugs mean more. so don’t you dare go wasting them on anyone else.”

you eye him a moment, your stomach burning. “alright. no hugs.” you then lean closer to his ear, your breath tickling as you suddenly jab at his side, his grip on you loosening a fraction, as you manage to get to your feet. “instead of hugging I’ll kiss people on the cheek. that seems fair right.” your smile gives away your true intentions.

but miguel isn’t having any of it, even if it is just a joke. as you step back holding your hands out, miguel walks forward. you spare a glance behind you briefly, careful not to trip, but it gives miguel the perfect opportunity to grab your extended hands, and yank you back towards him. “what did you say?” he asks, as you hit his chest.

you quickly shake your head. “nothing.” you mutter, but miguel squeezes your cheeks. “try again.” he states.

“you know, i might need that time that you offered. to think things through.” you mumble out. “oh really?” he hums. “uh huh.” you mumble back, but he just shakes his head. “sorry, too late.” he then leans in close. “you’re little hugs and kisses are all mine now.”

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[shimmershy]

Buttercups and Golden Flowers

[enden-k]

his work motto prolly hhhhf (the "fuck amygdala, fuck azai" silently swings in his tone)

[californiaquail]

anyone else feeling fundamentally incapable of adjusting to society. also just discovered there's a 30 tag limit which i can't believe i've never hit before

[emathyst9]

Hope this isn't redundant but it looked way too bad so I fixed this little Willry comic sketch

I think this one's a lot better

I will line this I swear I just need the right version of it for that (go look for the original if you want to see it for whatever reason btw I'm not linking it I don't like it)

[venomade]

It's one thing to ask someone to replace items due to a mistake, it's another to make someone replace an expensive item that was less than a third full at its full value.

[yoosung-ah]

lol I came out of a 5+ year hibernation, wholly ready to love V with a passion, only to find out half the fandom hates him now

... I am a lil upset if I'm honest and the wikihow for How to Not Be Bothered By People Not Sharing Your Sentiments About a Fictional Character didn't help

[muirneach]

goin down to the greyhound station, gonna get a ticket to ride.. (except my phone abruptly stopped recording to tell me that my battery was low but it was my best take anyways 🙄)

[shinayashipper]

If I were to get Fired after Disappointing a customer (who hasn't paid and the worst thing happened to them is their orders late for a day and we cancelled his orders because he couldnt Wait any longer- DEMANDING us to finish the thing and said "I dont care I /want/ my orders Now" after we told him it will take us until midnights to work for it?? YOU HAVENT EVEN PAID), then I would gladly Leave. Certainly they didnt appreciate me at all

[chiefguideandcentre]

I hate when my mother makes her little remarks when it comes to grandkids. My parents have 3 kids and we are all somewhere in our 30s and none of us have kids yet and (unfortunately for my parents) only one of us wants kids. My older sister doesn’t want them and has said that since she could talk, so she was ruled out for grandkids long ago. That leaves my older brother and me. he wants kids, just got married and will be having them within the next year or two. I don’t want kids, I don’t like them, don’t want them. I’ve said that, but I think my moms still convinced that I will change my mind. I won’t. So lately (ever since her twin sister became a grandmother 3 years ago) she’s been making little remarks about her lack of grandchildren. Twin sister says something about loving her grandchildren and my mother will just whip out, “oh, it must be nice” all while side eyeing me. Or when talking about herself and my dad “we got screwed”. And just mean little remarks of that nature meant to guilt trip all the time. Like I’m sorry you have 3 children and only one wants kids of their own. I know you feel like you are running out of time to be a grandparent. I know you are at that age blah blah blah. But I don’t have a responsibility to give you grandkids. Did you have children specifically so you could have grandchildren one day? No. Was I put on this earth strictly to have children? No. Yes, I know you would make great grandparents but this is not my problem. I don’t owe you fucking kids. I hate kids. They scream and cry and they are gross and I do not want them. I’m tired of the guilt tripping. Like you still have my brother who will give you 2 or 3 probably, like is that not enough? How many damn grandkids do you need to have? Will 2 or 3 not occupy you? I’m not permanently changing my body and my entire life and going through the torture that is childbirth all for something I don’t even want just so you can have some kids to play with for an hour every once in awhile and then I’m stuck with them for the rest of the time. I know I’m not suited for motherhood and I’m doing the potential children of mine a favor by not having them in the first place bc I will just be resentful. I’m not trapping myself in a situation that I ultimately do not want. I mean am I sometimes like “well it might not be so bad, it’s probably nice having children to love and watch grow”, yes I think that sometimes, but I don’t want it enough. And I hate being made to feel guilty for it. And you aren’t screwed either! My older brother will give you grandchildren, not right this damn second no, but in a year or two. Why is that not good enough? I’m sorry were we all supposed to be married with multiple children before hitting 30? I didn’t get the memo, sorry that didn’t pan out, but children aren’t a requirement for my existence.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Look at the video my boyfriend sent me 🥹

[not-poignant]

A lot of folks don't even know about this, but for those who like to support your favourite artists/writers on Patreon, and who know that to have the thing for free, a few people who can comfortably afford to do so have to pay, please please consider subscribing if you can!

You can also subscribe for ad-free as well and I've been thinking about doing some drives potentially where I can gift this to others as part of the Patreon or simply as something I'd like to do to make Tumblr more comfortable for the people who use it.

The reality is that conversion of 10-20% userbase to subscription is not likely to happen (just because of how subscription works in general in audience studies re: mass communications), but I also think a lot of people who might convert and can afford to have no idea that they can get the Supporter badge in the first place. I do think realistically a conversion of at least 1% is possible if more of us visibly throw our support behind it and do what Tumblr is generally actually pretty reluctant to do under Automattic - forcefully advertise something to us, because y'all know how we are with ads, lmao. They know too.

I'm not talking to the people who genuinely don't like the site - you're cool, you don't have to listen to this - I mean the folks like me who actually really love it here, despite its issues (blue hellsite (affectionate)), and think it's probably one of the very best socmed sites out there at this scale. If you can comfortably afford $30 USD for a subscription (or for ad-free), even if you have to cancel next year, please consider doing it. Tumblr is vital for many fandoms, and like, we all would have completely forgotten about Goncharov if it didn't exist or broke down.

And from a very personal place, this has been my all-time favourite place to learn how to be a professional writer, as well as a fanfic writer. It's been a place where I've gotten to make friends, get to know you, host your fanart and your creations in absolute awe of your talent, talk to people who have been vulnerable in asks, shared memes, and enjoyed your posts too.

It's the only place on the internet where 10+ years of asks, Fae Tales fanart, and more is archived with tags and (somewhat) searchable. I know some of you don't need or use that, but for those of you who specifically like it here, consider supporting Tumblr. It's always genuinely struggled to make money, Automattic (you might know them better as Wordpress) acquired it at a steep discount, and its userbase is broadly hostile to most innovation (sans like, the badges, which have been fun, and ad-free which has been genuinely very useful)

But fandom is at least sometimes about community support and always has been, including support of struggling businesses. It's hard to run a site like Tumblr, with a userbase like ours. We're very passionate, very loud, and sometimes very hostile.

Maybe we can also show that we can back something we believe in, and idk about you, while it's cool to hate on Tumblr, it's cool to have it here to hate on in the first place.

Have you considered a voluntary subscription for the site as a whole? It's the last social media site standing for me, I wouldn't mind paying per year for it.

Yes! We launched the Supporter badge which is 29.99/yr or 2.99/mo. You can also subscribe to ad-free which is a similar price. Subscribing, and encouraging as many people to also subscribe is the best way to support Tumblr. If you do it on the web we pay less to Apple/Google. Out of the 11.5M monthly active users of Tumblr, only about 27k have subscribed, or about 0.2%. If that were 10 or 20% we could run the site forever.

[empoleon]

somehow this app makes my phone hotter than any gacha game ever has

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Cherry Red.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader x Yandere!Geto (JJK).

Written in conjunction with this ask from @eevwrites.

Word Count: 1.9k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Implied Stalking, Kidnapping, Obsessive Behavior, Overstimulation, Biting/Marking, and Slight Dehumanization.

Really, your only mistake had been choosing the wrong savoir after Satoru had slipped something into your drink.

Satoru was obviously, visibly, undeniably a creep. That much was obvious from the second he approached you, neon pink cocktail in-hand and that degenerate grin plastered across his lips. He was sketchy, but he was also rich, and fun, and willing to dance with you hours after the rest of your friends had called it a night. Suguru wasn’t a creep – or, he didn’t look like one, at least. When your vision started to darken, when it became harder than it should’ve been to put one foot in front of the other, it was his chest you stumbled into, using what was left of your consciousness to beg an imposing, aloof stranger to get the bartender’s attention and help you. It was what anyone else would’ve done. It was what you would’ve done, if the roles had been reversed.

It wasn’t until you felt his arm wrap around your waist, until you heard him call so lovingly to Satoru, that you realized how badly you’d fucked up.

Still, stumbling halfway across the club and throwing yourself at a total stranger must've attracted some attention. As Suguru gathered you in his arms, the bartender rounded towards you, eyeing your limp form and Suguru's slight smile warily. “Someone had little too much to drink,” he explained, nonchalantly. “It’s fine. Her boyfriend and I are going to take her home and make sure she gets tuck her in.”

‘Your boyfriend’ being Satoru, apparently, judging by the way he clung to Suguru’s side as you were carried out of the club entirely and piled into the backseat of an inconspicuous black car. Suguru drove and Satoru hovered over you – gnawing hickeys and bruises into your throat until you were too far gone to care.

Whatever they’d dosed you with, it was strong. You were strung out for most of the ride, only vaguely aware of passing scenery, Satoru’s keening whines, and Suguru’s gentle reminders to ‘wait, ‘toru’. By the time you felt your body being lifted, you were beyond the point of deliberate movement – your mind hyperactive, eager to latch onto every little sensation and spiraling thought, but unable to do much more than remind you to breath as you were hauled through a shrine courtyard and into a small, dimly lit backroom; the priest’s personal barracks, if you had to guess. Satoru babbled while Suguru lowered you onto a large, plush bed, and despite your best efforts, you caught most of it. “—and that’s when I knew it had to be you.” Suguru spared you an apologetic smile, his nimble hands moving over your body as he carefully removed your dress, then your shoes, then your panties, stripping you bare with all the care and all the tenderness of an avid collector undressing his favorite doll. “I mean, it took a few months, but I wanted it to be romantic, y’know? Suguru doesn’t get it. He thought I’d be happy with just anyone.”

“It took me a while to come around the idea. I might’ve gotten a little jealous.” You could only wish he would’ve stayed that away. “Come here, I need to show you what you’re doing.”

Suguru dragged you into his lap, keeping your upper body propped against his chest while spreading your legs apart in front of him. Satoru took his position eagerly between then, his eyes fixed on your cunt. “This,” he started, using two thick fingers to spread the folds of your labia apart, “is what you’re gonna fall in love with. Make sure you’re always paying attention to her clit – aw, look, it’s already poking out.”

It was humiliatingly clinical – how he touched you while explaining your anatomy in-detail, using the pad of his thumb to show Satoru how to play with your clit, dipping two fingers into your entrance while extrapolating on the importance of proper preparation, gathering your arousal up to make sure Satoru knew what it would look like when he was doing a good job. “Remember to be gentle. She’s going to be a lot more delicate than me,” he said, while curling two fingers inside of you, filling the bedroom with a rhythmic, humiliatingly wet sound. Your couldn't seem to open your mouth, and yet, little whimpers of discomfort and mewls of pleasure escaped your parted lips without resistance, each new noise drawing Satoru that much closer. “You’ll just be using your mouth, for now. We can talk about hands once you’ve shown some restraint.”

And yet, Satoru’s hands still found their way to your thighs, kneading mindlessly while Suguru split you open on his fingers. You tried to shake your head, to squirm against him, to tell him to stop, but the closest you got to anything coherent was a pitchy, keening sound not totally dissimilar to the whines Satoru would let out every now and then as he ground half-consciously into the mattress. You tried not to feel anything, either, but Suguru’s hands were so big, and his chest was so warm against your back, and with Satoru all-but drooling over your pussy, it would’ve been impossible not to come undone the second his palm ground against your clit and he spread his fingers apart inside of you, nursing you through your orgasm while making sure you were on fully-display. “See how she’s clenching down? That means she’s trying to milk your cock – you’ll get what I mean, once your inside of her.”

If only for a moment, your panic overshadowed your paralysis. Thrashing to either side, you did your best to fight against Suguru’s ironclad hold and finally spit something out, even if your voice was still barely stronger than a whimper. “N-No, don’t, you can’t—”

It was Satoru who cut you off, this time, albeit without breaking his nonverbal streak. His mouth crashed into yours with enough force to bruise, teeth clashing against yours as he shoved his tongue down your throat in less of a kiss and more of a prolonged attempt to choke you to death. It hurt, and you tasted blood, and if you hadn’t known better, than you would’ve thought this was his first—

Oh, god.

As if this couldn’t have gotten any worse.

He didn’t stay focused on your mouth for long. His attention drifted downward – first to your throat, then your collarbone, then your chest, latching onto one of your nipples and sucking harshly. You hadn’t realized how sensitive you were, not until his teeth dug into the plush of your breast and you let out a fractured sob, tears blurring your vision. Suguru’s response was instantaneous. In a fraction of a second, his slick-stained fingers were tangled in Satoru’s hair, prying him off of you entirely. “Gentle,” he repeated, his tone strict, authoritative. “Before I decide you need to be muzzled.”

For what it was worth, Satoru seemed apologetic. After Suguru loosened his hold, he nuzzled into your chest, lapping over his past love bites with the flat of his tongue. “’m sorry, just got excited.” And then, smiling up at you, “You didn’t mind, right? I mean, she definitely doesn’t.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, not until his head dropped to your cunt and he buried his face between your thighs, his attention suddenly solely dedicated to your pussy.

There was no attempt made to use his hands. Despite Suguru’s instructions, he ate you out like a starving animal – his tongue fucking into your cunt as the bridge of his nose ground mindlessly against your clit. Suguru kept his hand in Satoru’s hair, petting gingerly over his scalp as he watched Satoru drool and lap at your cunt. “Use your entire tongue, and don't inhale. She’s not going to be impressed if you manage to drown yourself in pussy.” Suguru tugged lightly, and Satoru let out an unabashed moan, the reverberations going straight to your core. “Don't get distracted, either. Don’t you want to know what she tastes like cumming on your tongue?”

Another moan, another rough buck of Satoru’s hips into the now disheveled sheets. He was terrible, and messy, and loud, and it was humiliating how quickly you lost control of yourself – going stiff against Suguru as Satoru all-but tore your second climax out of you. Suguru grinned against your throat, almost purring with satisfaction. “Good boy. So dedicated, so sweet.” He let go of Satoru’s hair – cupping your face, instead. It was only as his thumb traced over your cheek that you realized you were crying in-earnest, now. “She’s tearing up, ‘toru. That means she wants you to keep going.”

A mix of your arousal and his saliva stained the inside of your thighs, dampening the sheets underneath you, but he didn’t pull away – too caught up in your taste or Suguru’s praise to stop. It might’ve been the overstimulation, or the drugs, or some impossible, nebulous factor you couldn’t so much as begin to guess as, but time seemed to blur together, reality buckling under its own weight as Satoru wrung another orgasm out of you, then another, then another, as Suguru continued to shower him with praise and affection and promises that you liked him, that you wanted this, that you were only crying and thrashing and trying to snap your thighs shut because you felt so good. At some point, you lost the will to keep your eyes open, and minutes later, the harsher edges of your consciousness began to soften. For once, you couldn't be mad at your own body's instinctual submission.

You knew you were going to black out, but you weren't scared. By the time your vision flickered out and everything went black, the only thing you could think to be was grateful that you’d be fortunate enough to miss the main event.

~

You woke up what felt like days later, still lying on the bed you’d blacked out in. Their paralytics had worn off, but trying to make a run for it was out of the question. Every part of your body ached – from your hickey-painted chest to your aching hips to your poor, abused pussy – and even if you’d been able to move, it wouldn’t have done you much good. Familiar bodies caged you in on either side, Suguru’s chest still pressing into your back while Satoru clung to your chest, his arms wrapped around your midriff and his nails embedded in your sides. As if you hadn't already been thoroughly marked.

Suguru stirred first, predictably. It wasn’t hard to tell who was in charge between the two of them. “Our little sleeping beauty,” he muttered into your hair, kissing the top of your head as he sat up and shook Satoru away. “We were starting to get worried – must’ve pushed you too hard last night. You almost missed the most important part.”

Something caught in your throat. “…almost?”

“Yes, princess, almost.” With a groan, Satoru sat up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Immediately, his gaze fell to you, and just as quickly, he was on top of you – pinning you to the mattress, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “You should be thankful that Satoru had the patience to wait. I wouldn’t have been so nice.”

You felt Satoru’s hands paw at your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he aligned his stiff, leaking cock with your entrance. He moved enthusiastically, but mechanically, like a trained dog. Like he was following instructions. Weakly, you tried to push at his chest, to get him away from you, but you gave up quickly.

You’d been wrong to be grateful. It would’ve been better to get this over with last night.

At least, then, you might’ve been out of it enough to miss the twisted, blissful, lovesick grin painted across Satoru’s lips as he buried himself inside of you.

[batshit-auspol]

I just spent some time scrolling through this blog and am suffering from sever laughter. Thanks so much for collating the countries craziest moments. One of my favourites is when Scott Morrison was in Hawaii while the bushfires where burning.

December 2019: As Australia's east coast is engulfed in the worst bushfires in living memory, rumours begin to circulate that Australia's Prime Minister Scott Morrison may have secretly fucked off for a holiday in Hawaii.

Keep in mind, this is what is going down in Australia at the time:

The Hawaii rumour is initially written off as a fringe conspiracy, because surely nobody could be that fuckin tonedeaf, and it was quickly forgotten about... until an Australian man visiting Hawaii UPLOADED A SELFIE ON THE BEACH WITH THE PM THROWING A SHAKA.

At which point all hell broke loose.

Overnight the formerly popular "Scomo" became the most despised man in all of Australia. Think "firefighters shouting out of their windows to news cameras" level of despised.

After about two days of radio silence and pretending like he was still at home running the country, the Prime Minister's handlers finally dragged him onto call with an Australian radio station, where he pinky promised to return to Australia as fast as he could in an attempt to calm things down.

Unfortunately Scott's empathy consultant (a real job) then had to watch Scott pour more gasoline on the dumpster fire by uttering the now famous phrase "Look I don't hold a hose mate" when asked by the radio interviewer why the fucking fuck the fuckhead wasn't fucking in Australia doing his fucking job during a massive fucking crisis.

Testing just how much worse things could get, Scomo then proceeded to NOT rush back to Australia as promised, instead attempting to complete the rest of his holiday, a fact that was exposed when a passerby snapped a picture of him still lounging on the beach two days later.

Eventually, holiday complete, Morrison did reluctantly slink back to Australia, and in an attempt to calm things down, he decided to pay a visit to a small town that had been destroyed by the fires.

Which was a big mistake.

Scomo still had not registered how absolutely and totally he had screwed the poodle with his Hawaiian beach vacation, and he walks into what is now taught in PR classes as one of the greatest examples of "what not do do in a crisis" in all of history.

Scotty from Marketing, as he is now dubbed by the nation, spends a painfully cringe-inducing hour wandering around a burned down town with TV news cameras in tow, having to FORCE PEOPLE TO SHAKE HIS HAND in what is some of the most awkward footage you will ever see.

At this point it's probably also worth mentioning that, before becoming Prime Minister, Scott Morrison's biggest claim to fame in politics was being the guy that was so far up the coal lobby's arse that he literally brought coal into parliament and waved it around, claiming it doesn't hurt people.

So when a protest was organised it turned out to be one big national fuck you to the Prime Minister, the likes of which the world has never seen before or since.

Needless to say, at this point Scomo's career was dead in the water, but thanks to the rules brought in to stop Australian political parties from knifing their leader every two weeks (a popular Aussie passtime) Morrison basically couldn't get fired until after the next election.

And so, when the election rolled around in 2022, we decided that was an opportune time to travel over to Hawaii to erect this bad boy tribute to the Prime Minister, on the very beach where Scomo had sat and drank margaritas that one fateful week in December as Australia burned (thanks to @chaser for funding the ticket)

[keferon]

Guys. Hear me out.

Remember when in Cyberverse everyone got their minds transferred into fake artificial digital simulation of an infinite fucking parade while their bodies were imprisoned? Now. Imagine Shockwave trying to pull that kind of move on First aid.

Under the cut:)

First aid feels wrong.

Which isn't weird, but this kind of wrong is brand new. It's not nausea from drugs or weird withdrawals after neural connection. It also doesn't feel like a concussion.

It feels like he's a lab mouse running through a maze.

There's the cheese. There's the electric shocks. There's no way out and never has been.

He thinks it might be the fault of Pharma's new drug. Or his fucking pilot position is finally eating away at him, or Vortex is finally done playing with him and just broke his brain.

There are people running around him, each of whom definitely knows what their place is and where they need to go. Everyone has a purpose and a position and some important job to do. They hardly even talk to each other, just nod and run on.

Amazing synchronization.

First..Felix feels like a kid lost in the mall.

He has. He has to do something, right? What does he need to do? Fuck. What day is today anyway?

He heads over to the schedule board and stares at it like an idiot for a couple minutes. It's Tuesday. The work day is in full swing. All the shifts are here. But he doesn't recognize the names of the employees. All the pilots are accounted for, but his name isn't on their list.

Must be a mistake?

He turns away from the board and looks around the room once more, this time more carefully. He just needs to find someone to ask. Preferably someone familiar.

He can’t recognise anyone.

The feeling of strangeness doesn't get any less.

The uniforms on the people around him are similar. But not the same.

The badges are all another color.

And he's surprised by this, but at the same time some part of his brain tells him that it's all familiar and he's seen it before.

“.... then I thought, we could do something different, you know?”

Felix flinches as Swindle and Onslaught walk past him. They are clearly in the middle of some sort of discussion and don't notice Felix staring at them.

Swindle is wearing a pilot's suit. Onslaught is wearing one, too.

Screw the weird schedule. THIS is wrong.

Onslaught frowns, but when he opens his mouth there's a strange amused respect in his tone

“You slippery eel.”

Swindle smiles. His smile, Felix notices, is not the same at all. He doesn't look like an actor from a commercial. He looks like a worn-out but proud of himself man.

It's wrong, but he's seen it before, it's strange but it's familiar. He wants to go up to Swindle and ask what's going on. He wants to understand the damn schedule. He wants to...

…

First Aid feels wrong.

Which isn't weird, but this kind of wrong is brand new. It's not the nausea from the drugs or the weird withdrawals after a neural connection. It also doesn't feel like a concussion.

It feels like being a lab mouse running through a maze.

You got the cheese. And here's the electric shocks. No escape. Never has been.

It's all the same.

He's not sure where he's going. Everyone around him seems very busy. Running about their own business, not paying attention to him and--

What is he supposed to do? He can't remember what day of the week it is. Shit. Is it Tuesday? He can't remember.

Does he need to find a schedule?

Everything feels weird.

By the schedule board, he almost crashes into Swindle.

“...You realize, if we can both get out of this shit, we can get others out too.”

Onslaught...still looking strange in his pilot suit instead of his usual uniform. Swindle pokes him in the side with his elbow as they both walk past Felix, completely ignoring him

“You just. Think about it. Even if you can't fire Offy from the pilots, you can at least free him from these disgusting experiments.”

Felix wants to go over and say hello. Politely and unobtrusively. And also kindly ask, “what the hell, boss?”

But you see it every day, his brain tells him. Have you forgotten?

It makes him feel wrong.

Here's the board, here's the schedule, just lift your stupid head up and see what you're supposed to be doing.

He looks at the board. It's Tuesday. It's dumb sheets that don't have his name on them. He wants to go up to Swindle, he should go up to Swindle, right?

…

It's all wrong, but it's a new kind of wrong. It's not from drugs or neural connection. And it's almost certainly not a concussion.

He's feeling.... hell, what day of the week is it? Tuesday right? He looked at the blackboard yesterday.

He stops. And makes a titanic effort to concentrate the jelly his head is now filled with instead of his brain.

Today is Tuesday because?...because yesterday was Tuesday? And the day before that, too? This is some kind of trippy shit, not a broken neural connection….

He's not looking for the schedule. He's seen the schedule a million times and he knows what's gonna be on it.

He's not sure where he's even going. The layout of the base is different. Not much, but enough to confuse him. He's still stubbornly checking out every familiar place he can find.

He doesn't get it, he doesn't get it, he doesn't get it, he doesn't get it, he doesn't.

He still doesn't see a single damn familiar face.

Ambulon's gone, Pharma's disappeared somewhere too. No Tailgate or Wheeljack anywhere to be seen. And the layout is a little different and all the badges are the wrong color and Felix can't even read what's written on them because every time he tries all the letters blend into an indistinguishable blur.

He's trying to talk to someone. Anyone. But everyone either brushes him off or straight up ignores him. It's like he's a ghost or a lunatic or all of the above.

Everything is so familiar, but at the same time it isn't and his brain frantically clings to the last possibly familiar thing.

Vortex. He needs to find Vortex.

Even if it is him who is going insane and not everyone around him. Vortex is insane in his own, unique way, but he won't ignore him. He may get a good laugh, but it's still better than blindly poking around every corner by himself.

First Aid feels wrong.

Which isn't weird, but this kind of wrong is brand new. It's not nausea from drugs or weird withdrawals after neural connection. It also doesn't feel like a concussion....

He snaps at himself. NO. Hell no.

Vortex. He needs to find Vortex.

The hangar looks surprisingly dark. The people look unfamiliar. And another schedule board beckons him to come over and check to see if it really is Tuesday, but he ignores everything and heads straight for his Mech.

Vortex hasn't changed a bit. Even the radius at which people avoid him is exactly the same.

And looking at him doesn't give Felix that fucking sense of wrongness.

He sees Vortex a lot. He just knows it. The thought is natural, in contrast to the others. That's good, that... It may sound strange, but Vortex is the most normal thing he can perceive right now.

He feels like he's grown little wings. His feet carry him up to the open cockpit and he barely notices the steps beneath him.

Vortex is here and he will understand and even if he doesn't, at least he won't ignore him. Vortex gets bored too quickly so he never minds distractions, no matter how absurd and...weird..they…

Huh…

Felix almost climbs into the cockpit, but freezes, right on the way in.

It's empty.

He crashes into that realization like an invisible wall.

The cockpit.... is clean.

It doesn't smell of chemicals or scrubbing agent. There are no thin streaks of old browned blood in the seams and crevices. There are no dents or stains on the edge of the visor.

The cameras are dead still and the screens are off.

There's no smell of stale blood or decay.

There's no one here.

But the back of his neck still tingles with the sensation of someone else's eyes staring at him.

“The fuck do you think you're doing?“

First Aid flinches startled and turns around.

There is a pilot standing a few feet away from him with a cigarette in his hand.

“..I’m..”

“I wouldn't stand there if I were you” smiles the stranger eying him with a suspiciously bloodthirsty smile “those things are glitchy as fuck. Might chop off something important.”

First Aid continues to stand just under the open visor. Maybe it's surprise or maybe he's too used to the idea that Vortex won't cut him in half. The pilot in front of him looks.... geez, where has he seen him???

Has he ever seen him at all? That green suit looks awfully familiar.

And the voice. There should be more mechanical notes in that voice, First Aid thinks. It should have more static and reverb and squeaks and rumbles and clicks and that quiet hum that sounds when the cockpit systems are turned on...

First Aid jumps off the Mech.

“Vortex...?”

The pilot casts him only a slightly surprised look at first, but a moment later recognition flares in his eyes.

“What the fuck....AID??”

First Aid instantly takes a swing and punches him in the face hard enough to send him wiping the dust on the floor.

“You!!!”

“Ha,” says Vortex from the floor. “Hahahahah ooooh Do it again! ”

First Aid kicks him. Vortex laughs like he's been told the world's happiest joke.

He sounds…alive. Alive and human and there’s no metal in his voice and

“What the fuck?”

Vortex stops laughing, but still doesn't get up off the floor

“What's the last thing you remember?”

First Aid still does nothing but stare at Vortex stunned. The human Vortex. Victor? Shit

“Until Tuesday, you mean?”

Vortex hums

”Till Tuesday.”

What was before Tuesday?

Another Tuesday. And another and another and another and another.

Someone from downstairs bangs loudly on the railing and berates Vortex for a safety violation, ordering him to put his cigarette away.

Vortex points his middle finger down somewhere and throws the cigarette over the railing.

Oh god. Oh shit.

First Aid swallows nervously.

“Shockwave...he used something...to control you-Mech...I mean. He did something, I think. I remember I couldn’t move couldn’t do anything. And now I’m in this hhhhplace? I don’t really recognise it.”

Vortex twitches the corner of his mouth and finally rises from the floor.

“Well I do.”

He looks like he is sick, First Aid thinks. He looks sick and he looks human and he has arms and legs and eyes and that stupid curly strand of dark hair sticking out from under his helmet and the dark eye bags.

“The bastard made up some sort of dumpster to transfer your consciousness in while he does shit to your body.”

First Aid clenches his hands together

“But there were two of us in the neural connection. And it took two of us to transfer here too...”

It suddenly dawns on him

“Wait. This base, these, everything. This is what the Mech project looked like in your time?? And Swindle and Onslaught and the staff is different and...”

Vortex raises his eyebrows smugly.

“...Here you are ...you're a human...” finishes First Aid.

Vortex pulls a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

From somewhere below, a loud angry bang is heard again

“Tex, you bastard stop smoking in here.”

“Fuck you, Off,” Vortex yells back.

Then shrugs his shoulders

“I've always been human. No matter how hard Shockwave and his science shithole try to change that.”

He holds out an opened pack to First Aid

“Want some?”

First Aid feels awful. Terrible as if from the drugs, terrible as if from the neural connection. Terrible as if he had a concussion times two.

But Vortex is here and Vortex believes him and even if it turns out they're the ones who are crazy and not the world around them, at least they're crazy together.

First Aid takes a cigarette

“Thanks...”

_______________

Previous