#because if you lick their boots and we lick their boots we can watch stuff for free

[devilsskettle]

i feel like i’ve been WAITING for the other shoe to drop wrt people’s opinions about watcher for this very reason. not that i think the reaction is completely not understandable but the greater the parasocial relationship, the greater the fallout as soon as public opinion shifts. you don’t have a relationship with these people they’re just content creators, chill

[stylesloveclub]

Prose (part 4)

In which Harry and y/n like going to used bookstores together and kissing (in secret).

+++

Harry’s coat is soaked, his curls matted to his forehead and his eyes squinting from how rainy it is. He barely had time to pack up his stuff, let alone grab his umbrella, before darting out of the Literature building. His boots splash loudly in the puddles, wetting the hems of his trousers as  he runs across the street.

“Y/n!” he calls out, his his chest rising and falling heavily. After two weeks of ditching his office hours and running away from him after lecture, he’s finally caught up with her, “come on, we need to talk.”

A quiet rumble of thunder shakes the air around them, and y/n reluctantly turns around. She’d been avoiding this conversation – didn’t want to be lectured by Harry about how bad of a decision it was and that it never should’ve happened. She knows that already, and she doesn’t need to hear it again from him. It would hurt even more, coming from the same lips that she’d been so excited to kiss. 

“What’s there to talk about,” she mumbles, her eyes downcast to the floor, watching the rain splatter against the pavement. Her hair is wet, drops of water dripping down her forehead, over the slope of her nose, and landing on her pretty lips. They get caught in the dip of her cupid's bow, and Harry watches painfully as she licks it away. 

It’s a painful experience, to have to remain so composed and put together, when he wants nothing more than to lean forward and kiss her again. His eyebrows are pinched, and his lips part as if he’s imagining what it’d be like to feel her lips between his again. He can’t help himself from staring down at her lips like a puppy yearning for a treat.

“We– we can’t just… ignore what happened,” he says, pushing his wet hair out of his face. He licks his lips nervously, and his fingers twitch at his side. 

“Yes we can,” she responds quickly. “Listen– I know it was a bad idea. You don’t have to like… lecture me about it. We can just move on."

“But– wait, no. I don’t want to just move on.” Harry blinks quickly, half because of the rain and half because he’s confused. 

“I’m not gonna tell anyone,” she says quietly, toeing at the ground and wishing it would open up and swallow her whole. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” She looks like she’s about to cry, and he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t lean forward and hug her the way he wants to, he can’t even rest a hand on her arm. He watches sadly as she just wraps her arms around herself, a pathetic cardigan wrapped around her frame – as if that would do anything to protect her from the rain. How could this girl be so smart when it comes to school, he thinks to himself, but so utterly stupid when it comes to rainy days. “Let me drive you home, and we can talk about it.”

She shakes her head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea–”

“Come on,” he pleads. “It’s pouring, and we’re both getting soaked. Just let me drive you. Please.” His eyes are wide, and his hands are lifted up halfway, resisting the urge to reach out to her.

Thunder crashes loudly again, and y/n gives a silent nod. She follows him quietly to his car.

+++

“Did you regret it?” Harry asks at a stoplight. 

Y/n shrugs quietly. Not really an answer, but she doesn’t have the heart to vocalize her feelings. Of course she doesn’t regret it– she’d had a crush on him since the very beginning of the semester. But she knows that he probably wishes it never happened. So a shrug suffices. 

He sighs heavily. Her reluctance to talk to him is eating away at him, and he doesn’t know how to handle the situation. “Well I don’t,” he announces loudly. “I think you’re pretty, and kind, and sweet – and I enjoyed kissing you.” He peaks over at her through the corner of his eye, but she shows no outright reaction to his declaration. She just stares down at her fingers, tangled in her lap.

Okay, well now he feels silly for saying all that. 

He turns back to face the road, and the two of them are suffocated in the silence. The rain patters against the roof of his car and the windshield wipers rhythmically clear the glass. Y/n watches a single raindrop’s path down her window, following as it slides down and collects all the other drops of water on its way. 

Then she asks quietly, “You aren’t worried about getting in trouble?”

His eyes flicker to her. “S’not as big of a deal as you think it is, bunny. S’not like I’m actually your professor. We’re both still students.”

She’s silent again. Harry pulls up in front of her apartment, but she hesitates to unbuckle her seatbelt. He looks at her quizzically.

“So it’s not against the rules?” she asks once more, nervously.

Harry shakes his head. “No school policies against it.”

Her voice is quiet. “...and you don’t regret it?”

“Not at all.”

Silence again. She sits in his passenger's seat thoughtfully. They are both still very much wet from the rain. 

“I’d invite you up–” she suddenly says. “But, I have a roommate. And, um… if anything else were to happen… I still wouldn’t want anyone to find out. Even if it’s not against the rules.” She turns, her eyes wide and glimmering hopefully. She’s suddenly filled with excitement and confidence.

Harry nods understandingly. “Nobody has to know.” 

She still doesn’t leave his car, staring at him. “So… if we were to do anything else, it’d have to be off campus. And not at my apartment.” 

Harry’s lips part, and he nods again, slower, “I see… so, if we wanted to do something else… we should probably go to my apartment instead…” 

Y/n only realizes how much she missed the dimple in Harry’s cheek when he smiles at her for the first time since that day in his office.

His tone is teasing, “And… if I wanted to kiss you… then I should probably wait until we get to my place?”

Her eyes sparkle, “exactly.”

+++

On the way to his apartment, he warns her that it may be messy, and he also warns her about his precious little cat (a pretty white haired kitty with piercing blue eyes named Princess, because that’s the name the shelter gave her and he didn’t have the heart to change it) who would probably be meowing at their feet as soon as they walk through the door. 

Y/n doesn’t have much time to look around his apartment and assess the messiness though. As soon as they get out of his car and into the elevator, she finds herself unable to stand more than three steps away from Harry. She follows closely behind him, grabs onto his firm bicep as he types in the code to his apartment. He turns to her with a smirk – it’s endearing how eager and affectionate she is, looking up at him with stars in her eyes. She’s got a look on her face, like a kid on her way to Disneyland for the first time – except Disneyland is actually just Harry’s bed, and the rides involve a lot less clothes than Splash Mountain. 

He tests the waters. He spends a few seconds staring in her eyes, reveling in the palpable tension between them, and then he flickers his gaze down to her pretty lips. He dances between her eyes and her lips for a bit, his hand still on the doorknob but too distracted by her to turn it all the way. Instead, he leans forward, his eyes fluttering shut and his lips pressing against hers. It’s so nice to kiss her again, it’s everything he could have ever wanted.

She’s ready for it this time, eager for his kiss and not caught off guard on the floor of his office. She leans up on her tippy toes immediately, puckering her lips against his and kissing that boyish smirk right off his face. Her hands hold onto his biceps, and slide up to his shoulders, and she tilts her chin upwards to kiss him properly. 

Harry lets his tongue slip out, sliding it between her soft lips and grazing it against hers, warm and slick in her mouth. It makes her breath catch in her throat – he’s just so hot, and his tongue is in her mouth right now, and it’s all just so perfect. Harry actually lets go of the doorknob, forgetting that they’re still in the middle of his hall, and turns his entire body towards her instead of just his head turned towards her. The hand that had been on the door makes its way to her hip, and he towers over her, leaning forward and backing her up against the wall right next to his door. It feels like he’s a foot taller than her when he’s kissing her like this, pressing her against the wall and sliding his fingers into her hair to manually tilt her head back. 

He bares her throat to himself and tilts her chin upwards, all so that he has easier access to her pretty little mouth. Sliding his tongue against hers erotically, nipping at her lip and squeezing her hip tightly. He’s so soft and gentle and romantic – but he’s also taken full control, leaving her at his mercy. He tilts her head whichever way he wants with his grip in her hair, scratching at her scalp so she’s weak in the knees. It makes her whimper and keel, her heart racing in her chest like an overexcited little bunny. 

Harry smiles into their kiss when she feels him pawing at her, her frigid fingers pressing against his firm abdomen and gripping the fabric of his shirt, still partially wet from the rain. If she’s getting handsy, he better open the door and get her into his bed. But he can’t bring himself to break their kiss – so with his eyes still shut and his lips still tangled with hers, he uses a hand to blindly twist the doorknob and push the door open. They stumble in uncoordinatedly, and y/n doesn’t even have the chance to see if Harry was lying about having a messy apartment. She’s just trying to kiss him as much as she can, get as close to him as physically possible. She’s forgotten about how uncomfortable her wet jeans are, or how cold her fingers are after spending so long in the pouring rain. All she wants is to get into Harry’s bed. 

He guides her towards his bedroom, and peeks a nervous eye open to make sure that his room isn’t a horrible, gross mess, a sigh of relief leaving him when he confirms that it’s in an acceptable state to show this pretty girl. He’s tugging off his coat and letting it plop wetly onto the floor and undoing the buttons of y/n’s cardigan, when his sweet little kitty finally makes an appearance. 

A simple quiet meow is all they hear, followed by the gentle scratch of her claws tugging and pulling on Harry’s trousers. Harry giggles, and pulls away from y/n to stare down at his cat, who’s sitting ever so politely at his feet with one paw raised to rest on his trouser. She’s the cutest little cock blocker and she’s also his little baby. “Hi princess,” he coos. 

Y/n, with swollen lips and bated breath, is honestly a little jealous of how this cat must get so much attention from Harry, and how sweetly he just bent down to pick her up. She wants Harry to do that with her – to coo at her and lift her up and press a kiss on her forehead. She then scolds herself for being jealous of a cat.

The kitty, all fluffy with hair as white as snow, gives a big yawn and a sudden shake of her head that makes her collar jingle prettily. Harry smiles. “Let me just go get her some food n’then she won’t bother us,” Harry says to y/n. The implications of not wanting to be bothered makes y/n’s heart flutter, and she nods eagerly with wide eyes. 

He runs back quickly, and shuts the door behind himself, so that even if Princess finishes her food, she won’t be able to wander in randomly. Then he’s pulling the cardigan off of her, throwing it on the floor, and unbuttoning her jeans, all while re-initiating their kiss. He walks them backwards slowly, until the backs of her legs meet his bed and she’s falling backwards with a soft laugh. He smiles into their kiss as he tugs her jeans off – a slight struggle considering that the denim is all wet and sticking to her thighs, but he just laughs with her at the awkwardness of having to peel off each other’s wet clothes. With her jeans also on the floor, she’s left in a basic and plain pair of light gray underwear, and the white baby tee that had been underneath her cardigan. Her shirt has ridden up, revealing her ribs and her soft stomach, and he wants to just lean down and kiss all over her body. Her thighs, her belly, her neck. He can see her pulse racing in her neck, and wants to rest his lips over her chest and feel her heart pounding right against his lips.

She pushes herself up on her elbows, her legs spread at the edge of the bed with Harry standing between them. He’s smirking down at her, taking his time as he undresses himself, making her ache. His hair that had been soaked in the rain has dried up a bit, his curls fluffier and messier than usual. It’s his natural hair, the curls that form when he’s straight out of the shower and hasn’t had the chance to style them with his curl cream. It’s endearing. His fingers, so thick and long and manly, are insanely slow as he finds the buckle of his belt and undoes it. The sound of the buckle clanking makes y/n swallow thickly, and the sight of him standing at the foot of the bed, towering over her with a belt in his hand is so arousing for some reason. Her eyes flutter, but she forces herself to keep her eyes open as he buttons his trousers and steps out of them smoothly. Neither of them are saying anything, despite there being so much they want to say to each other. They just take in the moment, take in each other. There’s a tattoo on Harry’s thigh that y/n never would have expected, a tiger that looks so intimidating and regal on him. His thighs are thick and strong – it’s head spinning to finally see him undressing in front of her when she’d accidentally done it in her head so many times in his office hours. It was never an intentional decision to sit in his office hours and imagine what it’d be like to see him undressed – to imagine what he’d look like if she ever got the chance to suck him off, or how he’d sound. But it always ended up happening… he was just too hot. 

His fingers now undo the buttons of his shirt, another white button up (his work uniform, apparently) that he slowly opens to reveal a broad chest, filled with tattoos. Y/n’s mouth drops open. Never in a million years did she expect her sweet, smart, and flirty TA to be covered in ink, a sleeve of black drawings lining his left arm and decorating his abs. It’s insane. He is so hot. Harry just smirks.

Her eyes are wide and she looks dumbstruck, mouth open as she just stares at him, her chest rising and falling heavily. She feels herself clenching, her eyes roaming all over his body… his chest and the swallows on his collarbones… the butterfly on top of his defined abdomen… the ferns on the hard lines that lead down into his briefs. Her eyes flicker up, and she flushes knowing that Harry’s been watching her drool over him for the past minute. She can’t be embarrassed about it though, and finds herself staring at the hem of his briefs… and then just a little lower at the bulge. Her mouth waters without her consent. His big hand cups the bulge and he squeezes himself. She nearly passes out. 

She sits up fully so that she’s no longer half lying on the couch, and instead she’s face to face with his cotton covered cock. Not even trying to be hot or sexy or minx-like, she looks up at him through her lashes, silently asking for permission. She’d never admit just how often the thought of sucking Harry off had crossed her mind. Sometimes when she was in his office hours, she’d zone out while he was talking to her and just stare at his big hands – dreaming about feeling them at the back of her head, pushing her down to get his cock further down her throat. And other times, in class, when Dr. Richmond was lecturing on and on about god knows what, she’d find herself staring at Harry, sitting politely in the corner of the room, his legs spread naturally. She’d feel so dirty in class, imagining what it’d be like to sit between those thighs, rest her cheek on his leg while pumping his cock, when he was doing nothing to prompt such sexual thoughts. All he’d do was sit there, and she’d be thinking about laving her tongue around his cock-head, tasting him as he’d cum down her throat. 

“Go on then,” Harry grunts, tucking a piece of y/n’s wet hair behind her ear. She’s eager, licking her lips like she’s about to have some dessert, her eyes glittering and darting all over his face. She tucks her fingers into the hem of his briefs and pulls them down, revealing the bottom half of the ferns and a dark tuft of hair. She pulls down further and further, exposing his shaft, and pulls some more until she frees the head and his cock comes bouncing out of its confines. It’s large and nearly smacks her in her face, and she’s like a confused little bunny staring at it swinging in front of her. He can’t help but smile down at her fondly, his hand cupping her jaw. “You want t’suck me off, bunny?”

She nods, hypnotized but unable to make a first move. She’s too intimidated by his size, and how he’s towering over her, speaking down to her with his low, raspy voice. She just stares up at him with wide eyes. 

He grabs a hold of himself, wrapping his fist around the base of his cock, and just the feeling of his own hand gets him twitching and leaking precum already. She’s the sweetest thing, looking up at him with those big eyes, nibbling at her lips nervously. He pumps himself a few times, spreading his slickness down his shaft and all over his head. She’ll be able to taste him all the way down, feel him coating her tongue and spurting down her throat. 

He guides the tip to her lips, muttering a soft, “open up.” She’s so eager and obedient, parting her lips without hesitation and even going so far as to stick her tongue out for him, the precious little thing. He’s grinning like the joker, dimple in his cheek at the erotic sight in front of him. Gripping himself, he taps his head against her tongue softly, and traces a circle with the tip of his cock around the flat of her tongue. He does this a few times, his own fist sliding his cockhead over her tongue, the rough texture of her tastebuds heavenly on his sensitive tip. He feels smooth and slick on her tongue, and she sits there like an angel, tongue out and staring up at him sweetly as he does whatever he pleases. His cockhead is ruddy and red, so incredibly sensitive to the touch, and he groans through his smirk. Do you know how attractive it is to see a man moaning with a smile on his face? Y/n feels her panties soaking, and worries that it might be seeping onto his bedsheets. 

It’s honestly been a while for Harry, since he’s hooked up with anyone. He hasn’t dated anyone in a while, and it’s hard to find someone that he trusts enough to be himself with. He wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to trace his cock on any random person’s tongue, wouldn’t be calling a stranger “bunny” or whispering for them to open wider so he can push himself further in. 

“Come on bunny, show me what you can do,” he murmurs, encouraging her to grab a hold of his cock herself. That little taste of him from when he traced himself over her tongue has made her insane – she’s addicted to how he tastes and wants him further in her mouth. With his encouragement, she circles her tongue around his head. Tentatively at first, but when he groans out and bucks closer to her, she starts swirling more and more eagerly. She’s drooling for him, her mouth filled with saliva and just watering for his taste. She’s breathing heavily and small little whines are leaving her chest as her tongue slides from his head down his shaft. God. It’s addictive. She wants to lick up and down his cock for ages, just feel him on her tastebuds, but she also wants to wrap her lips around him and feel his cock fill up her mouth, but then she also wants to just jerk him off with her hand while she sucks his pretty balls into her mouth and roams her tongue around each other – oh the options are all so enticing, she’s overwhelming herself. 

Spit is dripping down the side of her mouth from how drooly she is over him, and she stops licking up and down his shaft and all over his head for just a second to swallow thickly. And then she’s immediately back on his dick, this time closing her lips around his head and sliding herself down his length, feeling the underside of his shaft against her tongue and his head tickling the back part of her throat. She wants to take him further so badly, wants to feel him fill up her throat, make her throat bulge with his thickness, just suffocate on his length – but when she pushes herself forward she has a teensy little gag, and has to pull off to catch her breath. “Oh, bunny,” he groans, biting his lip, “fuck.” She looks up at him teary eyed, her lips slicked and her chin covered in her spit and the copious amount of cum he’s already leaked into her mouth. It’s a sight that he’ll be dreaming about for days, every single night with his fist wrapped around his cock before he goes to sleep or when he’s jerking off in the shower before going to class. She wraps her lips around his cock again and bobs up and down eagerly, pushing herself forward so that his cockhead reaches the back of her throat, and then pulling back quickly so that his cock almost falls out of her mouth. She does this over and over again, her  tongue still lick at him as much as she can, flickering her tongue at his pretty tip and trying to lap up as much cum as she can, steadily leaking out of his slit. He’s so yummy and hot and she just wants to taste him and swallow him and feel him filling her throat – she tries to deepthroat him again, but disappointingly fails again. He’s just too big for her. 

She pulls off with a cough, huffing upset. She looks up at him sadly and he hushes her, delicately tracing a finger on her face, “S’okay bunny,” ((her heart races and does a few backflips every time he calls her bunny)), “we’ll work on it.” And oh, she can’t wait for that. Can’t wait for him to train her throat, get her adjusted to his size so that he can push himself down, fuck her face and stuff himself down her throat until he’s spurting long streaks of white cum into her mouth. Or maybe she’d tell him to pull out just in time so that he could coat her face. Or maybe she’d make him wait until she got his cock inside of her hole and he could fuck into her and cum right inside of her, pressing his balls up to her ass so that he could get it as deep as humanly possible. 

If she can’t get him down her throat today though, then she makes up for it by wrapping her lips around his balls and stuffing her mouth full of them. Her tongue circles around them, tonguing at the spot right between the two, and she makes sure to give each one a bit of their own separate love as well – sucking their roundness into her mouth, feeling how full they are. All while tugging at his cock and looking up at his red face, his flushed neck and the veins bulging in them. 

“Sweetheart,” he cries out with a loud moan. His fingers ball up into fists at his sides and his abdomen is clenching and fluttering erratically, “gonna make me cum. Where d’you want it, hm?”

She pulls off of his balls with a loud pop. “In my mouth,” she whines, as if it’s obvious. She’s been lapping at his slit, suckling out the yummy precum so desperately – she wants it all now. 

Fondling his balls and sucking harshly at his tip, she pulls the final trigger. His hips thrust forward and he groans out, his hands tightening in her hair as long spurts of white cum shoot out of him, coating her tongue and trickling down her throat. Her mouth overflows, stuffed full of his cock without enough room for all the cum that he’s spurting out to fit – so it trickles down her chin instead. She takes it so well, swallowing it all and suckling at him gently until there’s nothing more for her to suck out, and his cock sits limply against her tongue, worn out and sucked dry. 

His chest is red and heaving, and he’s weak in the knees. His sweet little bunny, so quiet and gentle in class, was the dirtiest little minx he’s ever had. He saw stars when he came, his ears ringing and his vision going white. It was a trip to heaven. 

He’s gonna have fun with her, for sure. 

+++

The used bookstore that Harry and y/n walk into is a thirty minute drive from campus. The store is dimly lit, fairy lights lining the shelves and small tables filled with books from local authors between the rows of books. There’s a cafe next door where Harry and y/n each get a hot chocolate to warm their numb fingers (it’s raining outside, again), and the smell of roasted coffee beans lingers on their clothes and follows them into the book shop. 

It’s warm in the book store. Not as warm as the cafe, but still warm enough for y/n to shed her raincoat and for Harry to unwrap the big, fuzzy scarf that he’d tied around his neck. His oversized gray sweatshirt is lightly stained with raindrops, y/n having convinced him that they didn’t need an umbrella, that they could just race out of the car and into the bookstore and only get a little wet. Either that, or he’d have to carry around a wet umbrella all around the bookstore, which meant that he wouldn’t be able to hold her hand while they shopped. And that simply wouldn’t do. 

With her fingers laced with his, they walk around in the fiction aisle, saying nothing. Y/n’s eyes trail over the multitude of used books, the ones with the colorful covers and bubbly fonts standing out to her the most (it’s hard to not judge a book by its cover!). Harry sips quietly from his hot chocolate and stares at y/n every few seconds, before averting his eyes to the floor. Or to their joint hands. He suppresses a smile to himself. 

It’s hard for him to contain his excitement. Since they started their relationship, it’s all been very hush hush. The only time he ever gets to touch her is when they’re at his apartment. He’s not allowed to hold her hand when they’re walking around campus, not allowed to stare at her for too long in class, even though he wants nothing more than to just watch her read and write her notes. Sometimes on Friday nights, when campus is empty and everyone has gone home, she’ll close his windows and lock his office door and let him give her a few kisses in the privacy of his office – but other than that, no PDA. It’s too risky, too scary, she whispered to him the night that they made it official, under the shield of his comforter. She didn’t want to have any rumors or whispers circling around, even if their relationship wasn’t explicitly against the rules. He, of course, would do anything for her. 

He was good about it. Kept his eyes off of her, didn’t praise her too much in class, kept his hood up whenever he went to pick her up in the middle of the night. But he’s an affectionate kind of guy – he’s the kind of boyfriend who wants to wrap his arms around her when they’re standing in line at the coffee shop. He wants to put his hand on her thigh when he’s driving her home from school, send her off with a kiss everytime she leaves his office hours. So being able to come to a bookstore in another city, where they wouldn’t see any of her classmates, and hold her hand while she looks for books… it’s such a special thing for him.

Her hand is warm and soft, and she wears these delicate little rings that clank against his bigger, clunky rings. Her nails are painted a dark burgundy color (courtesy of him, who whipped out his stash of nail polish and painted her nails after she whined about her hands being too shaky to paint her nails herself), and he rubs his thumb over her painted fingers lovingly. 

She untangles their fingers to reach for a book, and Harry’s hand feels cold and lonely. He tries not to visibly pout, and stuffs his hand into his pocket to maybe recreate the feeling of being held by her hand … but it’s not the same. He takes a step forward so that his chest is pressed against her back, and rests his chin on her shoulder, looking over at the book in her hand. Y/n smiles to herself – her boyfriend is like a puppy that can’t go three seconds without being pet or loved on. She tilts her head towards him and gives him a little kiss on the cheek, right on the spot where a dimple forms three seconds after she kisses him. His nose wiggles as he slowly says, “I actually have that book, if you want to borrow it.”

“Oh, really?” she hums, putting the book back. “Was it any good?”

He nuzzles his face closer to hers so that their cheeks are touching, and he can feel the chub of her cheek as she smiles. “4.5 stars.” 

His hand not holding his hot chocolate finds her hip as she spins around to face him, and he stares down at her with stars in his eyes. His dimple softly pinches his cheek and his lips quirk up to one side in a lopsided smile. She looks soft and sweet and cozy, in a white long sleeved top, a lacy trim at her collar, and a bow pinning her hair back. A heart shaped pendant rests in the center of her chest, a gift from him, and her eyes are bright and wide as she stares back up at him. She puts a hand on his shoulder, and her fingers tangle in the back of his hair.

She giggles as Harry just stares down at her and says nothing. “What?” she laughs, not understanding why he’s looking at her like one of the stars in the sky.

“Just so pretty, bunny,” he murmurs quietly. He leans forward, his nose nudging against hers for a kiss. She struggles to kiss him back through her own smile, but her painted nails scratch at his scalp while his fingers dimple her hips. His lips are sweet like the hot chocolate he’d been drinking, and she wonders if she tastes just as yummy and chocolatey – or if he’s just licking into her mouth because of how lovey and affectionate he’s feeling today. Her back presses against the bookshelf and his hips press into her front subtly, but it’s not in an insanely horny way, and more of a desperate attempt to press his body as close to hers as possible. To feel her chest against her chest, and feel her stomach against his. 

He loves kissing her, loves her pretty lips and her pretty face, her warm cheeks and her soft eyes. He sucks and licks and nibbles on her lips with quiet hums, and pulls off only when her giggles get too strong and she’s not kissing him back anymore. “Stop laughing,” he huffs, skimming his lips against her jaw. 

She giggles some more. How can he just casually call her pretty and kiss her in between bookshelves and not expect her to burst into a fit of shy, love-struck giggles? It’s too much for her, and the only way she can rationally react when she’s so happy and giddy is to giggle it out! “Sorry,” she smiles bashfully, her giggles still prominent, though, as the stubble on his upper lip tickles her cheek. “More kisses, please.”

He can’t help but smile at how sweet and polite she is, asking for more kisses. He puckers her lips against hers again for a quick kiss and starts a path up her cheek and all over her face too, which just sends her into a fit of even more laughter. He huffs out a chuckle of his own, and shakes his head, checking around them to make sure that they’re still alone in this aisle of books. 

“Wanna go to the sci-fi section?” he whispers to her. (He’s a bit of a sci-fi nerd himself and has turned y/n onto a few of his favorites, so now they’re both sci-fi fans). 

“M’kay,” she hums, her fingers untangling from his hair and sliding down so that her hand hooks into his arms. “Maybe we can see if they have that Andy Weir book you were telling me about, and go read it together in the cafe? M’hot chocolate is almost done and I want a cheese danish.”

And nothing sounds better to Harry than that. 

+++

hope u guys looveddd it !!! such a fun story to write and i really loved this couple. thank u for reading and dont forget to send me an ask or rb so that i know u guys liked it and if u want blurbs and stuff!!!!

Prose Masterlist

[barbiesmuse]

WELCOME TO NEW YORK ₊✧⋆

;ֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָjohn price + reader

summary: in which john finds a new column in the paper quite interesting, although he isn't the target audience he keeps coming back for more.

tags: perv!john, reader is somewhat slutty (but aren't we all?), talk of sex, reader and john masturbate, perv!john has a voice kink, john is also a hoe, reader is astute, john is painted in a more submissive way in reader's mind, when the true smut comes it won't be this way obv!! this is long as hell and i hate the way i wrote the end but i needed to get this out, reader being sexy as usual!!

HEAD BARBIE'S ANNOUNCEMENTS: hi gorgeous gorgeous people!! this is so silly and unexpected of me but with sex and the city being added to netflix we're going to celebrate!! i'm actually moving to NYC because this barbie has a boyfriend!! alright, now you may read. it's very long so beware!! also yes i did steal the name of carrie's blog i am not that creative i fear!! love you always, xoxo natty.

ps. y'alls little reblogs for better version headcanons & the fic were absolutely adorable i read them over and over!! your ideas and continuations were so so smart. i loved it soso much. if u ever have any thoughts send an ask!! thank you thank you thank you!! ₊✧⋆

Wednesday, October 20th.

John Price was a man who liked routine. If anything was even remotely out of order all hell would break loose. John saw it as a silly quirk, his past partners saw it as a deal breaker. Which is how he ended up here, watching his seventh girlfriend this year pack her things. He watched as she packed her belongings in a cluttered manner. He couldn't help but cringe at the sight. Her clothes overflowing as she stuffs them in the cardboard box. As she heads for the door, she and John make eye contact. John can't help but chuckle at her glare and wave her off, he told himself again and again that he was getting too damn old for this. As the girl walks out of his condo John can't help but sigh. It wasn't like he was attached to these women, they were just simple sleeves for his cock until he found a pretty little housewife. John runs a hand over his face, his beard hairs scratching against his palm. He lets out a low grunt before heading to bed, as he trudges up the stairs he spots the woman's red lace panties. He let out a quiet chuckle before picking them up and stuffing them inside his pocket. She'd left them on purpose. After all, John was a hard man to get over. He would worship you like you were a goddess, all to sneak out the next morning. Thursday, October 21st.

As John made his way into headquarters he picked up the newspaper, exchanged pleasantries with the secretaries, and even gave the nurse a nod. He was in a good mood, and when John was in a good mood all was right in the world. The sound of his heavy boots filled the halls as he made his way to the break room for his morning coffee. He threw the newspaper on the table before grabbing a mug, as Soap walks in he can't help but roll his eyes. He did not have the time for his childish banter. Not after he spent the whole night fisting himself with those red lace panties.

“Mornin' Cap, have a good weekend?” Soap says as he comes beside his Captain. He smelled of liquor and sex, his hair was disheveled, and his pants were unzipped. John let out a scoff before pouring the rest of the coffee into his mug. “No, but I can see you've had a good morning,” John says before licking the coffee that drips from the black pot. Soap lets out an embarrassed chuckle and takes a seat next to Price as he sits at a table.

Soap opens the newspaper and is met with the same column every time, written by a young female journalist. Soap would know because his wife practically lived off of it. He lets out an annoyed groan before turning to see any big news. There was none, the only interesting thing on the paper that morning was that damn fashion and gossip column. John quirked an eyebrow up at his exasperated expression, he didn't want to know, but the awkward silence in the room was slowly eating away at him.

“Sorry Cap, s' just this damn fashion column is what takes up the paper these days. S' all my wife talks about with her friends, I mean I get it. The journalist is a fuckin' babe. S' just annoyin', continue y'r coffee.” Soap rambles, although John doesn't really listen after the mention of Soap's wife. That woman had been eyeing him since Soap had joined the Task Force. John nods before speaking firmly, “We've got a briefing in less than twenty minutes, I suggest you fix yourself up now unless you have a kink for embarrassment.” Soap nods before scurrying out of the break room.

John grabs the newspaper and his eyes widen at the black and white picture of you. He could only imagine what you looked like in person, how fucking beautiful you were. You looked as if you belonged in the Louvre. His eyes trail down to your column, he can't help but chuckle at the name.

❝𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲!❞ The guide to Vogue, sex, and cigarettes.

John was more than intrigued he was captivated by you, even from words you had caught him by the balls. As he continued reading he couldn't help but start to wonder who you were. How did you get to be this mysterious woman who he craved to know more about? John grabbed the paper and left the break room, his coffee now cold and lonely. Hell, who needed it when you had given him just enough energy by showing the tiniest bit of cleavage! John walks into the briefing room as if he's in a hurry. He looks around at the men before mumbling, “Meetings canceled.” In ten minutes you had thrown John completely off of his game. Where was the order and routine he usually lived for? Had he thrown it all out the window for a pretty little minx such as yourself? Of course, because when John saw something he liked; he needed to have it. No matter what it took. John barges into his office and locks his door, he couldn't be seen reading some girly column in the paper. His eyes trailed down to your column, and he began reading his eyes squinting at the use of your tiny font.

❝𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲!❞ The guide to Vogue, sex, and cigarettes.

Why do all men have to be so complicated? I swear we women deserve a raise for the constant bullshit we put up with. It's almost impossible to find a man who isn't trying to keep his penis hard! Although I degrade men usually, one of my closest friends just got engaged! He's one of the few who deserve a pat on the back. The engagement was out of a movie almost! Although it's nowhere near close to happening for me, I can live vicariously through my friends. As I sit here and right to you I can't help but wonder if there actually is a man out there for me? I'm not as scary as I sound, I just have a passion for women's rights! What's so scary about that? It's not as if I'm some lock-ness monster trying to lure people in, just a woman who knows her worth. On a happier note, I've found a new bar called the “Cafe Society.” They open at five o'clock every day! They have some of the best espresso martinis I've ever had, and I consider myself a connoisseur of espresso martinis! I go every Thursday, come see me! Although this month's column is short I'll be back and better than ever before you know it. Might just need a man to pick me up and show me a good time, until then you might not know where to find me most of the time; but you can always find me on the 21st. Lots of love.

On the twenty-first, your column was in the newspaper every month. Finally, something else to look forward to besides fucking brainless women. He usually didn't like women who put up a fight, but you, God, there was something about you. You were such a breath of fresh air, you had opinions. He could tell you were able to hold a conversation. You were a woman. Not a girl, a fucking woman. John looked at the date, Thursday. What a perfect little setup, almost as if you planned it just for him. At least, that's what John would like to think. The time was currently 12:35 pm, he could last until five, only for a pretty girl like you.

Thursday, October 21st. 5:00.

As John walks into Cafe Society the first thing he sees is you, setting your purse on the bar counter and making conversation with the bartenders. He figured they knew you well considering you were a regular. He walked over to the bar, exhaling slowly. He takes a seat on the stool next to you. His cologne gently clouded your nose. You look over at him, your gorgeous eyes meet his cold brown eyes and he swears he's in heaven. “Captain John Price, a pleasure to meet you,” he trails off, waiting to be told your name. After hearing your name he swears he's been struck by Cupid himself. He can hear the winged baby chanting your name in his ear. Had you cast a spell on him? As a soft smile paints your sweet face he knows he's struck gold. You turn away, not sparing him another glance for the rest of the night. John's palms are sweaty, had he not charmed you enough? You were an enigma to him, and he was determined to figure you out.

As you get up from your seat, slinging your mini purse around your shoulder John smirks. You were such a pretty sight, the way your curves filled your skirt made him spiral. You shoot him a tight-lipped smile before walking out, your heels clicking echoing in his mind. He quickly gets up, placing a hundred-dollar bill in the bar to pay for his drink before rushing to find you. There you were, looking around for a taxi, he assumed.

“Ending the night so early?” John says, a chuckle escaping his lips as he accidentally startles you. He places his large hand on your shoulder. You let out a soft giggle, looking up at him with those same fiery eyes. “Well, unfortunately, the man at the bar didn't speak to me. I assumed he was married.” You say, a grin resting on your face. You were witty, John didn't usually like that in a woman. He liked more submissive women. But you, you were different. You held your own, you would be just fine without a husband. At least that's what you kept telling yourself after the failed relationships.

“Quite far from married, darlin',” He begins, his hand trailing down to your lower back. You shiver at his touch and he hesitates. You give him a reassuring glance and begin to walk, you wait for him to follow before letting out a playful sigh. “You coming or what?” You say and smile as he quickly catches up. The two of you walk side by side, a comforting silence cast over the two of you. “So besides being a captain, what do you do in your free time?” You ask, a bashful smile painting your face as your pinkies touch briefly.

“Not much, work usually takes up a lot of my time. What about you? What do you do for a living?” He asks, you look up at him and as you pass a newspaper stand you pick up a paper and point to your face. “Journalist, Mr. Captain.” You say with a cheeky smile, almost as if you knew he knew. It hurt your ego he didn't know who you were, almost everyone did. “Ah, interesting,” He says calmly, his eyes trailing down to your breasts, fuck. They were even better in person. He couldn't help but mentally facepalm as he felt a hard-on begin to grow.

“Quite,” you say, pronouncing your “T.” sharply. The silence is now not-so-comforting. Before you can say anything John quickly speaks, a hint of panic in his voice. What had changed in the last twenty-one seconds? The size of his hard-on, that's what. “As much as I'd love to stay n' chat doll, I've got to get home. Th-the missus needs me.” He says before quickly walking to his car. The missus? Didn't he say he wasn't married?

Men, what a bunch of fucking assholes.

Thursday, October 21st. 11:00.

As you lie in bed, your computer resting to your side, glasses perched on your face. Legs spread, lip drawn between your teeth you search for everything there is to know about Captain John Price. How old is he, what he truly does for a living, and if he is married or not. Various pictures of random men come up, none of them the sexy captain you'd met only a few hours earlier. You sigh and let out a sexually frustrated moan, how could there be absolutely no pictures of him. Just as you're about to give up you spot a picture of him with a woman, they're kissing and they seem to be in a tropical setting.

Intrigue takes over and you decide to click on her page, double-checking your incognito window before scrolling. You'd hit the jackpot. Several pictures of the woman and John flood your screen, some are more sensual others are simple selfies. Yet as you scroll you check for one thing, a ring and or wedding pictures. A small smile on your face as you find none. Gosh, he looks so damn sexy. It's shameful, truly. But you can't help but dip your hand down into your panties. Your pointer and middle finger rub gentle circles on your bud.

You can't help but slip a finger inside yourself at the thought of him touching you. He was just so perfect, you could only imagine how his rough beard would feel against your pussy as he laps at it. The burning feeling would feel good, you'd come right on his tongue. He'd be so needy for you, humping against the bed to get himself off while he pleasures you. He'd whimper against your clit, a chuckle escaping his lips as you whine from him blowing cold air on your pretty pussy.

Oh, you just know he'd touch you so well.

As John sits in his bed, his gray sheets crinkled as he fucks his fist at the sight of you. He'd searched the internet for you, needing to know everything about you. You made him crazy, you carried yourself in such a polite manner, he almost felt ashamed for wishing it was your hand wrapped around his veiny cock. You'd take him so well, he was sure of it. A sinister smirk painted his face as he clicked on an interview of you, it was recent and fuck you looked perfect. He couldn't help but imagine your plump lips wrapped around his cock, his tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat as he face-fucked you.

Not to mention how well you'd take him, you were such a good girl. Your moans would be so pretty against his pillow, he'd fuck you from behind so well you'd be shaking when he was done with you. Your sweet sounds only making him come quicker, he was sure he wouldn't be able to last long. And your voice, your sweet voice. You might've been a little firecracker but your voice was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. If only you'd moan his name, just for him. One day, you would and he was damn sure of it.

As you come down from your high you can't help but imagine the title for next month's column, “My shameful addiction to Mr. Captain.”

[wonderful-rp-resources]

A Very out-of-context set of Sentence Starters from my Discord server.

Add names to blanks Change pronouns as necessary!

"Murder in marriage is normal and healthy."

"Oh haha, yeah lobotomize them."

"Metaphorically speaking, I cannot tell you if you serve cunt or not."

"The sins better be crawling up my back because if they do at the front they're going to have two massive obstacles"

"You're a really predictable person_ _ _ and it's really funny to me, I want to crush you under my arm <3"

"Clearly you've never had a premium rock roast and I'm so sorry for you."

"I dont know I haven't sniffed you."

"Cock and ball torture for anxiety and ocd hell yeah!"

"Bimbos are the larval form of milfs."

"I will slow down im just carbonated to meet you."

"They are homoerotic and homoirritating."

"The uggs do make my soul frown, I'll give credit to that."

"I dont have good or bad habits I just enter a state somewhere between a robot and a bad stand-up comedian and that's how the stuff happens."

"She went to evil hell college where you summon devils."

"I do nothing but put beasts in a situation that's why they call me the border collie."

"The lore exists. If I'm feeling particularly zesty and tased I'll drop two sentences."

"Hi _ _ _, I'm the devil on your shoulder and even I agree that you probably shouldn't pull up hot ass in a nice restaurant."

"Vagina so powerful it does what walruses do to clams."

"Yes, we established _ _ _ has the walrus mouth vagina."

"Never assume I can't be hornier."

"That is a man held together by crust and spite."

"I can't, I was assassinated so I wouldn't snitch about the squeaky toy noises."

"I WAS AGREEING THAT THEY LOOK LIKE CHICKEN NUGGETS YOU SOGGY SALAMI."

"_ _ _ is more likely to take you on a date killing homeless people."

"I won but it was embarrassing."

"He's just hanging loose like a tit that's escaped its harness."

"_ _ _ trying very hard not to bring up his girlfriend (the Cambrian period.)"

"Lick my boots but we stay silly."

"I keep thinking he's a weird god ascended form of Jerry Seinfeld."

"I dont think that's a good idea _ _ _ would become a stick of incense in 5 seconds flat for sneezing microaggressively."

"She has disabled the flap in my esophagus i choke on a gulp of tea instantly."

"We have from the left: Thembo, Himbo, tiny himbo, bimbo, And bitch."

"Keep your mouth open so I can shove my fist inside."

"I wanna enjoy dinner, not watch someone get snapped in half like a KitKat bar."

"My standards for a good partner are non-existent, if I raised the bar remotely, Not only would he TRIP, but he'd fall backward and break a hip."

"Good luck it's behind six layers of 4chan."

"It is fine. the conversation needed to end anyway. please continue your vegetation exultation."

"I have normal amounts of radiation for a horse."

"What does a planet have to do with a music genre?"

"Fear not, I will not be kissing misogynists any time soon."

"Pain is weakness leaving the body."

"You were born at an incredibly old age."

"You seem like you would be an entry on the villains wiki."

"I don't bite strangers….that's an easy way to catch diseases, dumbass."

"...So his unhappiness is only half my fault."

"It's ok buddy, I've licked dirt too."

[reallyromealone]

Bonten x bunny male reader

Warning: hybrid au, nsfw, smut, male reader, bottom reader, MLM, gay, diet omegaverse themes (elements of Omegaverse but not quite there)

If you are

Are a fujoshi

Do not interact

I will block you

Those who knew Bonten knew to run for the hills if they enter a room, the predator hybrids weren't to be fucked with by any means.

And whatever they saw, belonged to them.

And currently they couldn't take their eyes off the cutest bunny hybrid with long floppy ears and a fluffy cotton tail to boot.

Said bunny was their beloved mate so why wouldn't they watch him whenever they could?

(Name) was in bunny form curled up against Sanzus fox tail as the pink haired man cleaned his sword calmly, pleased his mate was so relaxed to be in such a vulnerable state with him.

Currently (name) was in preheat, conserving energy for the upcoming heat that Bonten was thankful that they could alternate because bunnies had a reputation for a reason.

"He still sleeping?" Ran asked as he walked in with bags of veggies and fruits, the pink haired man nodded as he glanced down at the bunny who was still snoozing away, the tiny fluff ball stretching out.

"Well enjoy it while you can, because he's not gonna let us go once he starts"

Six hours later was when Mikey fet a hand on his chest push him down from where he was sitting, catching the rest of Bontens attention as (name) made a chirping noise to the wolf who stared at him curiously, charcoal eyes staring into (name)s fully dialated ones "you need a good fuck baby?" Mikey asked, thankfully (name) was only wearing one of their botton up shirts as he began humping at Mikey's jean covered lap "that would be a yes" Koko said teasingly as (name) huffed, leg bouncing which usually indicates one thing.

He wanted a chase.

"Hey baby?" Sanzu said teasingly and (name) turned to look at him "run" he said with a rumble as all the men's eyes flashed to a more primal look and with a pleased shiver (name) bolted down the hall as the others counted to twenty before taking off behind him.

God they loved a good hunt.

Did they purchase a home with this in mind? Oh absolutely and all parties had a grand time with it.

Ran and Rindō worked together to hunt him, the Panthers feral with joy as they scanned the area for any sign of the bunny.

Walking down the hall they saw a flash of an ankle and both men immediately took off after him, almost manic only to see the Jaguar that was Koko pinning the bunny down "get the others" Koko said before looking down at his hunt, shaking and blushing as (name) hooked his ankle behind Kokos neck to pull him close "oh? You ready to be eaten bunny?"

In this relationship there were no rules on who got to fuck the bunny as long as it was mutually consentual.

And Koko was a bit pent up, none of them able to fuck (name) for one week before his heat, knowing to save their energy for when it actually happens.

Koko devoured (name)s mouth, licking anywhere he could as his hands groped around, feeling the others flesh under his skin "so good~"

Koko freed his cock and let (name) wrap his legs around his hips, trapping him successfully as Koko wasted no time pushing into (name), the bunnies biology making him ready anytime "oh!" (Name) gasped out as Koko began thrusting "gonna fuck you real nice angel"

(Name) rolled his hips to try and meet his thrusts as the rest of Bonten gathered around him "open wide babydoll" takeomi said pressing the blunt head of his cock to (name)s lips, the men watching with pure lust as (name) sucked on the tip before slowly taking it in deepee down his throat "so good baby" takeomi said softly, playing with (name)s soft bunny ears as the bunny let the fox and jaguar fuck him silly.

The others jerked off and played with the bunnies body, stroking his cock and playing with his nipples "we should probably head to a bedroom soon" Kakucho said as the snake took (name)s wrist to have (name) stroke one of his cocks.

"Once we stuff him real nice with a few kits" Mikey said having (name) use his other hand to jerk him off.

(Name) was a shaking mess as he let the predators around him use him as they pleased, to heat drunk to even remotely care as the pre-cum leaking from Mikey's cock got all over his hand and wrist.

"Gonna give me cubs baby? A whole litter for me?" Koko hissed as he fucked (name) senseless, enjoying the sight of the bunny full of cock as his hips pistoned into him, the sound of his cock fucking his lovers tight hole echoing along with the sound of his throat being thoroughly fucked.

"Take it baby! Take it!" And with that Koko came hard into (name), the others cuming as well to cover the bunny with cum as the poor prey shook helplessly from his own orgasm.

"Let's clean you up for round too, you got seven more to please angel"

[avengerscompound]

The Tower - Under the Table

The Tower - Under the Table

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 4585

Warnings:  smut (ten personal bixexual orgy, oral sex, vaginal fingering, anal sex, some use of powers, blindfolds)

Synopsis:  It’s Elly’s birthday, and after dinner the group have their own special kind of party game, one where they find out how well they know each other, and who can keep a good poker face.

Author’s Note:  Long time no update! I’ve been writing really slow at the moment.  But I am still doing these if you have requests.  This one was Requested by bubsanddoll21 on Wattpad. You can send in your requests too.

Takes place between The Tower and The Holiday Special

Under the Table

In the early days of my relationship with the Avengers, it was a rare event that all of us had a meal together at a table.  Ten people at a table felt more like a dinner party than a date.  Sitting around on the couches just felt more familiar and comfortable. So when we did sit down to eat, it was a special occasion.

This one was my birthday.

The others had wanted to do something special, so they decorated the conference room and Bucky, Sam, and Wanda had cooked a large meal.  It was nice and at the point where most of us had finished eating, Tony leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.  “We should have brought some games up with us,” he said.  “I could go a few rounds of Cards Against Humanity right now.”

“I could go down and get something,” Steve offered.

“You’re still eating, Steve,” Wanda said.  “Someone else can go.”

“Or!” Clint said, waggling his eyebrows.  “Or… we could play a different kind of game.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not talking about charades?” Sam asked.

“Because you know me too well, Sammy,” Clint said.  “I saw this thing…”

“What have I told you about watching that stuff on the company wifi?” Tony scolded.

Clint smirked at him.  “To invite you along when I do,” he teased and stuck his tongue out at Tony.  “Anyway, as I was saying; I saw this thing.  Someone gets under the table and starts going down on someone.  And if the person getting blown or eating out gives it away that it’s happening to them, they have to go under the table.  And if someone guesses the wrong person, it’s them.  Like a Blow Job Roulette.”

“Okay, that sounds fun,” I said.  “Can we?” 

There was a murmur around the table, and one by one everyone agreed it sounded like it could be fun.

“Birthday girl goes first,” Sam said.

“Shouldn’t I be the one that gets eaten out first?” I countered. 

“But then we’d all know it was you, and you’d just end up under the table,” Sam argued.  “You might as well start down there.”

I laughed.  The logic was flawed, but I figured it was as good a place as any.  “Alright, pants off everyone,” I said, slipping off my chair onto my knees under the table.  Everyone shuffled around, some of them just opening their pants and pulling their cocks out, while others stood and pushed their pants all the way down.  Wanda and Natasha were both wearing skirts, so they just took off their panties and hoisted up their skirts.  It was quite a sight under the table.  Nine people all around me, pants down, and legs spread.  Some of the men were already half-hard.  I looked around, picking my target.

Of all the members of the group, Wanda was calling to me the most.  She was wearing thigh-high black socks, heeled boots, and a black skirt that was bunched up.  Her legs were spread and the little thatch of pubic hair glistened invitingly.

I crawled over to her, putting my hands on her thighs.  She tensed and I ducked my head forward, licking up her slit.  I wondered what she looked like right now.  How she was hiding what was happening.  If she was hiding it.  From where I was, it seemed so obvious.  Her muscles had clenched and she’d tilted her hips forward.  I could even feel a slight shake in her thighs.  I couldn’t imagine it not being totally obvious from above the table, but if she was, no one had said anything yet.

I pushed my tongue inside her and flicked it up over her clit, painting little shapes over it.  She squirmed and her cunt flooded, and as the tart, musky flavor of her slick filled my mouth, Bucky, Tony, and Clint all called out at once. “Wanda!”

“No fair!” Wanda whined as I pulled away.

“That’s the game, Wanda,” Sam said.  “Now under the table.”

I crawled out and wriggled out of my pants as Wanda climbed in under the table.  I sat down and nothing seemed to happen for a while.  I could hear Wanda moving under the table for a moment, and then after that, it was just the sounds of people picking at the last of the food and random conversation in the group.

All of a sudden Clint yelped and practically rocketed up off his chair. “Wanda!” he scolded.  “No powers!”

She got up giggling as everyone burst out laughing.  “Did someone get invaded by some pink light?” Tony teased.

“That’s one way to put it,” Clint said as he climbed under the table.

It took a really long time before the next person became clear.  I was studying everyone very closely, and the only thing that had me wondering was the slightly bored looks in the eyes of Natasha and Tony.  Which made me think it was more likely Tony as he usually dominated the conversation.  It wasn’t until his brow furrowed and he moved his hand under the table that I knew for sure it was him.

“Tony!” I yelled, pointing at him.  “It’s you!”

“Ah, shit,” Tony said, reaching under the table with both hands and began to rut his hips.  “Wait, Clint, I’m nearly done.”

“Hey now,” Steve said.  “You can wait like the rest of us.”

Clint made a choked sound and stumbled out from under the table, his eyes watering, and he wiped his mouth.  “Jesus,” he cursed.  “Tony was a terrible choice.”

“Oh, baby,” Tony said, as he smoothed down his shirt.  “The amount of calls I’ve taken while I’ve been balls deep in someone.”

“Alright, alright, get under the table smart ass,” Steve said.

Tony laughed as he climbed under, and I decided on a completely different strategy.  I glanced around the table, trying to see if anyone had given it away, but at the same time, I tensed my hands and took in a shaky breath.

“Elly!” Clint, Steve, Natasha, and Sam all said at once.

“No!” I shouted and Bruce groaned. “It’s Bruce!”

“You little…!” Natasha scolded.  “That was evil!”

Tony had broken down into laughter under the table and he crawled his way out.  “That was awesome,” he said.  “Now what?  Do all of you have to get under the table?”

“Might I suggest that we alter the game?” Thor asked.  “Perhaps, rather than all of us trying to work out who is being pleasured, Lady Elise should be blindfolded and have to work out which of her lovers is pleasuring her.”

“I think that sounds like a fantastic idea,” Natasha said.  “If she can guess, then they can make her come.  If not, she just gets edged.”

“What do you think of that, Elise?” Steve asked.

I nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes, please. It is my birthday after all.”

“We might need lube and something to blindfold El with,” Sam said.  “I mean - if we’re going to have real fun that is.”

Wanda lifted her loop scarf off over her head, and Tony, Clint, Natasha, and Thor all fished in their pockets and pulled out lube.  What was funny was none of them had the same kind of lube.  Tony had the warming gel kind, Clint’s was espresso flavored, Natasha’s doubled as a massage gel, and Thor’s was an oil he’d brought from Asgard and came in a delicate-looking, hand-blown glass bottle.

Steve and Wanda approached me as the others started clearing the table.  “Let’s get you ready, Elise,” Steve said.

Steve lifted my shirt off over my head and Wanda unfastened my bra.  I let the fabric slip down my arms and Steve tossed both it and my bra aside.  Wanda kissed me softly and then wrapped the scarf around the top of my head, obscuring my vision.  When it was in place properly, and I had assured them I couldn’t see anything, Steve lifted me and put me on the table.

I lay back and lifted my legs, spreading them and resting my feet at the edge of the table.  They made me wait a moment, and while I waited, they were clearly not keeping their hands to themselves.  There were moans and the soft wet sounds of kissing around me, which only made that wait worse.

My thighs were trembling by the time someone touched me.  Right away I knew it was one of the guys and not Natasha or Wanda, and given the fact that he touched me with both hands, and they were both flesh, I knew it wasn’t Bucky either.

There was no preamble. Whoever it was just lunged in and began to lap up the length of the slit.  They didn’t even try spreading me with their fingers, rather their tongue pushed between my folds and just got to work.  I could feel the scratch of their beard.  Yet, even without that, they were very skilled with their tongue.  It started wide, sweeping up from my entrance to my clit, and then began to focus on the little but, sending little jolts through me.  I didn’t even need the extra sensation of their long hair tickling the insides of my thighs, I knew it was Thor.  The size of his hands, the beard, and the technique all screamed the god of thunder to me.

“Mmm… Thor,” I moaned, lifting my hips to meet his mouth.

A deep booming chuckle sounded between my legs and Thor sent a jolt of electricity right through my clit making my body jerk up hard.  I nearly came just from that.

“How do you even do that?” Tony laughed. “You are too good at this game.”

“You gotta make me come now,” I said breathlessly, reaching down to tangle my hands into Thor’s hair.

“Don’t worry, lover.  I will,” Thor said.

He was good to his word.  He pulled my clit between his lips and began to flick his tongue over it.  Every now and again, he’d send another spark into it, that made my core muscles clench completely out of my control.  It brought me careening to the edge very quickly and the fourth time he did it, the dam burst and I came, arching up hard off the table as my orgasm crashed through me.

“Fucking hell!” I cried out.

“Damn, Thor,” Sam said.  “That had to be some kind of record.”

“I am a god, Samuel,” Thor bragged.

There was only a short wait for the next person to move up.  It was another one of the men and once again, clearly not Bucky.  This person was much more tentative than Thor, spreading my folds with his fingers, and slowly swirling his tongue over them.   He was tender and methodical, and it sent a warm buzz through me, oozing out like honey on tiles.  There was no beard, and the very faint tickle of the hair on his head on my thighs.

“Bruce,” I moaned, arching my back and lifting one leg so it was draped over his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Tony cursed.  “You’re gonna be having so many orgasms tonight.”

“I know you all too well,” I moaned.  “Gonna have to mess up on purpose so I don’t die.”

“Let’s see how you go,” Bruce said and eased two fingers inside me.

Bruce was slower and more methodical about things than Thor, at least initially.  He pushed his fingers in deep, touching my g-spot and then stroking over it.  As he did, he pulled my clit between his lips and flicked his tongue over it.  The louder I moaned the rougher he got, so it wasn’t long before he’d gone from careful and slow, to rough and fast.  His fingers hammered into my g-spot, over and over, sending sharp jolts right through me, making it so I couldn’t think straight.  Beside me, someone had started having sex, and from the sounds of it, it’d be a while before Clint was down between my legs.

My orgasm peaked and Bruce pushed his fingers against my g-spot and twisted his wrist, and I came, my back arching off the table as I cried out, shuddering with it.

Bruce hummed and pulled away. “Mmm… I love seeing you come,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss me.

I sucked my slick from his lips and he pulled away, running his hand down my stomach and patting my pussy before pulling away.  I didn’t have to wait very long before the next person to take their place.  Right away I could tell it was one of the women, which narrowed the choice down to two.  I almost wanted to just take a shot in the dark and really freak them out.  I didn’t even need to though, the slow tease of her fingers up my thighs, and the way she ran her nails over my hips as she leaned in, I knew right away it was Natasha.  Not because she always touched me like that, but just that it was uniquely her.

“Natasha!” I said quickly.

She cursed in Russian and Tony burst out laughing, while at least two other people applauded me.  I would have taken a bow if I wasn’t flat on my back.  “That’s my girl,” Natasha praised and got to work.

Her nimble fingers pushed inside me and immediately pushed against my g-spot. I gasped and bucked up hard against her, but she just pushed my hips back down and continued doing it.  She countered the intense pressure of her fingers against that sweet spot inside me with her tongue on my clit.  It was intense.  I couldn’t focus.  Lights popped behind my eyes and each time I tried to say something all that came out was an animalistic cry.

When I came, I gushed, spraying Natasha with my juices as I arched hard on the table.  It was so intense, it knocked every conscious thought out of my head and I just oozed down onto the table, breathing heavily, completely forgetting that there were still six more people to go.

“Well done, Mishka,” Natasha praised.“I hope you have more in you.”

I wasn’t so sure.  In fact, when the next person stepped up, it took me a moment to realize there was even someone there.  Their tongue was lapping up and down my folds before I was truly aware enough to remember I was supposed to be playing a game.

The way they lapped their tongue was almost soothing after the intensity of the last orgasm I had.  There was a scratch of beard on my skin, but my foggy head made it hard to think about which beard it could be.

Finally, it clicked into place.  No metal hand.  That cut out Bucky.  Clint and Steve were both clean-shaven.  Which just left Tony and Sam.  I was sure that Tony would want to torture me after what happened and he wouldn’t be going easy on me at all. “Sam…” I moaned, the sounds completely breathless.

“We should never have doubted you,” Thor said.  “This is truly impressive.”

“Are you sure you’re not peeking?” Clint asked.

“Just know you all,” I argued in that same breathless moan.

Sam pulled back and a moment later there was the press of his cock against my cunt. “Let’s make you come a different way,” Sam said.

He lifted my legs so they were up against his chest and he pushed into me.  As he started to thrust into me, I gripped the edge of the table to hold myself steady. “Oh fuck,” I moaned.  I was so sensitive and overworked, that I knew the next six orgasms would happen really fast.  I was going to be completely over-stimulated by the time we were done.

Sam slid his hands down my thighs and onto my cunt, and he began to rub my clit in tight circles. I mewled, arching my back and clenching tight around his shaft.  “Oh god, Sam.  Please…”  I didn’t even know what I was pleading for.  I just knew I needed something.  More, harder, slow down, be gentle.  Or maybe just to stop.

His thumb kept rubbing in tight circles on my clit and thrusting in fast and deep, and very quickly I was brought spiraling to the edge once more.  He pinched my clit and I went toppling over, crying out and clenching my teeth as all my muscles clenched up at once.

“Good girl,” Sam praised.  “There we go.”

He slipped out of me and I let my legs fall on the table.  “You still okay?” he asked.

I nodded and made an incoherent sound.  He caressed my cheek and ran his thumb over my bottom lips.  “Elise, are you sure?”

I nodded again.  “Yeah.  I can do this.”

He stepped away and the next hand touched me. Just the right hand, and it slid up my legs and when it reached the apex of my thigh, the thumb ran up and down my slit.  Someone might have been just trying to mess with me, but I didn’t think so, and when the person crouched and their long hair teased the inside of my thighs it confirmed it.  “Bucky,” I said.

He laughed. “Damn it.  I was trying not to give it away.”

“That’s what gave it away,” I said.

“Alright, alright, let’s make you come then,” he said, sounding a lot like he was pouting.

He didn’t even bother to try and go down on me.  He just pushed my legs up against my body, lined his cock up to my cunt, and shoved in deep.  I gasped as he bottomed out and I felt the sharp sting of the head of his cock hitting my cervix.  “Bucky,” I whined.

“Sorry, honey,” he said, backing off a bit.  He smoothed his hands down my thighs and began to thrust.

I reached up, grabbing his wrists as he thrust into me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him in as tightly as I could.  “Bucky,” I moaned.  “Kiss me.”

He wrapped his right arm around my waist and lifted me, so I was sitting on the edge of the table and the cool metal of his thumb brushed over my lips.  I parted them, leaning forward as I wrapped my arms around him and pushed my hands into his hair.

He kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth.  I flicked my tongue forward to meet his and they danced together.  Bucky kept thrusting into me and I rolled my hips to meet him.  As worked up as I was, I knew I wouldn’t last, but the way this orgasm built felt so different from the past four.  It wound around me like a warm blanket.  I was engulfed by it, cocooned completely.  It heated me from the inside and yet I trembled in Bucky’s arms.  He held me close, thrusting in deep and kissing me with a passionate intensity that took my breath away.

When my orgasm washed over me, I threw my head back and clenched tight around me.  “Oh god, Bucky,” I moaned.

Bucky’s hips stuttered and he groaned loudly, burying his head in my neck. “Fuck, Elly,” he groaned, suddenly jerking forward and coming inside me.

“Bucky Barnes, you dirty dog,” Clint scolded.  “Leaving a mess in there for us to clean up.”

I swatted lazily in Clint’s direction as Bucky started laughing. “Oh like you’re not looking forward to that.”

He pulled out of me and I lay back with a groan.  It wasn’t long before someone else was between my legs.  They lifted them and spread them wide and then did something that gave them away immediately.  They laughed.

“What’s so funny, Tony?” I asked.

“Ah fuck,” he said. “Didn’t even get a chance to trick you.  I just had plans to go to town on you.”

“Mean,” he said, reaching for him.  “Go on, you gotta give me my prize.”

“Alright, alright,” he said and pushed his cock up against my cunt.  “It’s coming and so will you be.”

I laughed, but it was cut short as he shoved inside of me.  He thrust in so hard it nearly knocked the wind from me.  I cried out and reached above my head.  Someone grabbed my hand and I held onto them as Tony began to thrust into me.

He didn’t go easy on me the way Bucky had.  He grabbed my legs, held me in place, and just railed into me.  “Fuck… fuck… fuck…” I babbled as I was jolted on the table.  My fingers tightened around whoever’s hand I was holding.  It felt like this orgasm was being hammered into me.  Each thrust of Tony’s hips just made it build more and more until I was ready to burst.

It hit me hard, lights popped behind my eyes and I cried out, my hips bucking and my body writhing under him.  “Oh fuck yes, Tony!” I mewled.

Tony kept thrusting, fucking me through my orgasm, and with a shudder he came too, moaning as he did.  “There you go, Legolas,” Tony teased as he held me in place.

He leaned down and kissed me as he pulled out, and stepped away.  A lay on the table breathing heavily, waiting for the next person the move up.

I didn’t have to wait long, and once again, I knew who it was as soon as their hands were on my skin.

“Wanda,” I said.

She giggled.  “I knew there was no point trying to trick you.  But lucky you, now you get your prize.”

She took her hands off me completely and just as I wondered what she was doing, the warm tingle of her powers touched on my feet and began to wind their way up my leg.  It was slow going, and it didn’t settle on my cunt right away, rather, it wrapped its way right around me, making my whole body buzz and tingle.

I whined, squirming on the table.  I was still holding someone’s hand, and I gripped it tighter, trying to tether myself to something real.

“Please, Wanda,” I whined, bucking my hips.

She giggled again, but things started to get more focused.  It swirled around my nipples, tugging on them, and began to buzz against my clit. I moaned, arching my back and the pressure increased.  Every moan I made made her increase the pressure of her powers on me.  My nipples hardened almost painfully and a hot current ran right through me from my clit.  I was dripping on the table as my cunt clenched around nothing.

It started to feel like some kind of torture.  I was so close, and yet she was keeping me hovering there right at the edge.  “Please.  Please, Wanda.  I need … I need…”

“Yes, Elly?” she asked.

“I need to come,” I wailed.

A jolt shot through me, and just like that, I came, arching hard off the table, and screaming as my orgasm rocked through me, making me gush onto the table.  It was the most intense orgasm yet, and for a moment everything went black.

When the world returned, I was panting heavily, completely dazed as I rode out the extreme orgasm high.

“Holy shit, Wanda,” Natasha cursed.  “That was impressive.”

“Two more left, El,” Steve said.  “You sure you’ve got them in you?”

I nodded slowly.  “Think so.”

Someone moved up and skimmed the back of their fingers up the insides of my thighs.  It was a Clint trick, but not out of Steve’s playbook. Whoever it was leaned in, ghosting his lips up the insides of my soaked thighs.  His fingers moved to my cunt, spreading it with his fingers and running his tongue up my slit.  There was no beard, but both Clint and Steve were currently clean-shaven, so that didn’t give it away.  I really had no idea who was touching me.

I lifted my feet, put them on his shoulders, and flexed my toes.  Whoever it was was broad-shouldered and muscular.  That didn’t exactly narrow it down either.  And just because Steve was broader than Clint, I chose him.

“Steve?” I asked.

“You sure about that, darlin’?” Bucky asked. 

“No… but it’s my guess,” I moaned.

Some of the group started clapping.  “Well done, that’s all of you.  How about Clint and Steve make you come together, so you only have to do one more?” Sam suggested.

I nodded emphatically.  “Please.”

Steve moved forward, the thick head of his cock pressing against my cunt.  I raised my hips to meet him, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him closer to me.  He pulled back just a little and with a snap of his hips, he sunk in deep.

I gasped and arched my back.  As I did, Clint moved up beside me on the table and began to flick his tongue over my clit and play with my breast.  The table was jostled beside us and Clint grunted and let out a moan.

“Who’s fucking Clint?” I moaned.

“That’d be me, honey,” Sam replied.  “You want to see?”

I nodded.  “Please.”

The blindfold was taken off as Steve continued to thrust into me.  I blinked at the light and looked around, Taking everything in.  Steve was between my legs, holding me in place, his brow furrowed as he fucked me.  Clint was half propped on the table, bent over me, licking at my clit and that base of Steve’s cock.  Sam was behind him, one hand braced on Clint’s shoulder and the other on his hip as he thrust into him, jostling him against me.  The others were spaced around the table.  Most just watching.  Thor was the one holding my hand, though Wanda was bouncing in his lap, her eyes glowing pink.

Everyone else was just kissing and holding each other as they watched Clint and Steve bring on my final orgasm.  Seeing them just added to my pleasure, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

I relaxed back, just letting the pleasure wash over me, It encompassed me completely.  But in the end, it wasn’t either Steve or Clint that set my orgasm off, it was Wanda’s orgasm.

She cried out and her powers burst out of her and I was hit by a sudden, intense wave of her pleasure.  I came hard, all my muscles clenching at once making me arch violently off the table.  I cried out and my vision blacked out for a moment.  Wanda’s orgasm must have affected the others too.  Steve groaned and gripped my hips hard shoving into me and coming deep inside me.  Sam’s hips bucked and his head fell back as his hit too, and Clint suddenly arched like a cat and came in thick ropes onto the table.

I fell back breathing heavily as I rode the waves of my orgasm.  Steve hunched over me panting and Clint slithered down and lay there with his head on my stomach.

That’s how we stayed for a while and then Natasha stood.  “Okay.  How about we clean up here and head downstairs?  I think it’s time for a soak in the hot tub.” 

Steve sighed contentedly and slipped out of me.   He pulled up his pants and then picked me up, cradling me against him. “Good birthday?” he asked.

I hummed, snuggling against his chest and closing his eyes as I murmured my reply. “The best.”

~ END ~

[snapeaddict]

Snapetober Day 3 - Path

Inspired by @sneverussape's headcanons

"You go down that way, ya walk for 20 minutes and then there's the factory right to your left. My pals' boys usually wait for us there. We come out at 5. I can show you the machines."

The tall man turned his gaze to the child by his side, waiting for an answer. As usual, the boy was lost in a world of his own; fucking nothing could be done to make him swap out of it for good. He shook his shoulder brutally.

"Oi, kid! You listening to me?"

Fearful black eyes met his, the very same as Eileen's.

"Yes, da'", Severus replied in a small voice, the kind his father found vaguely enraging for no justifiable reason.

Did he have to sound so girlish, so weak? Why couldn't he be like the other boys? He was already a laughing stock as it was. Too much brain like his mum, but unwilling to put his hands in the dirt, unlike her.

Sure, the kid did well in school. But he also came home all bruised. One look at him and you knew he was the one to beat up – he looked just like these poor lads on the battlefield, barely 18, crying for their mums in the midst of bombs everywhere.

Not one of them had made it.

The other boys, they came to try their hand at the machines, they went to the pub with their fathers, or to boxing matches. Severus read. He hated sports and never said a word at Church. He didn’t want to put his tongue in the glass of liquor like the other kids. If he came home dirty, it was only because he had been on the hunt for some animal by the river, or piking bloody weeds he stoked up by the side of the house. Might as well have come home with flower bouquets.

Tobias knew nothing about books, or animals, or plants.

Severus had nothing to say, to him at least. And Eileen, he could tell, secretly liked it. That he was different. Tobias hated her for that. She enabled him. When she looked at the boy, there was pride. Where did it come from? Why did she come alive all of a sudden?

He couldn’t make her happy, but Severus could, that was what.

In front of him and the boy, the path divided itself in two. The right side led deeper into Cokeworth, it was all black and dirty because the guys from the mine used it to come home – Tobias had been fired only six months ago. Disorderly conduct, they had said. More like they needed to cut their expenses. He didn’t like the dark and the loud noises anyway.

The left side of the path wasn’t used much. It crossed the river to the nicer part of town, there were mulberries and wildflowers growing over it. It crossed the bridge and led straight to a nice playground for the nice kids up there. Their parents would rather they play elsewhere, Tobias had heard. Nasty kids attending the only school in town was already an issue: no need for their spick and span offspring to mingle with them after school hours.

“You go home now”, he told his son abruptly. “I need to get to work. You can come by at 5 if you want.”

-

The bell rang at last. The guys put down their stuff and went outside to stretch. Their boys had been waiting there for some time already, playing football.

Tobias looked around, but saw no Severus. He had cleaned his machine thoroughly to show him. He watched as John’s kid sat on his father’s knees, dirty nails clinging to his father’s shirt. Severus never got near him like that. But that was good, wasn’t it? A boy like this didn’t need more coddling. Good spankings made for strong boys.

It looked nice, though.

He needed a drink.

-

He stumbled home and asked Eileen where the boy was.

“He’s not here”, she told him. “He left a bit before 5.”

He cursed under his breath and cracked another beer open.

-

He watched, leaning unsteadily against a tree, as Severus sat down in the grass behind a bush, at a safe distance from the playground. There were two girls there, a blond one and a redhead. The boy was looking at them with a sort of fascination that infuriated him.

Let him play with girls and lick the boots of the better off, Tobias thought confusedly. He'll learn soon enough that this won't make the world any kinder to him.

He turned on his heel, and never again cleaned his working surface at the factory.

[andarthas-web]

Wakanda Forever? More like Wakanda WTF!

I finally managed to watch Wakanda Forever and....WTF WAS THAT???

Who thought it was a good idea to center the movie on two BIPOC communities, both of which are threatened by neo-colonial and capitalist western ambitions, going to war with each other, because one of them can’t come up with a better solution to the dilemma they’re facing than murdering a black woman? I mean....Namor is several hundreds of years old and apparently an experienced and good ruler. It’s pretty clear Riri didn’t even know what was going on and would never have willingly put Wakanda at risk (which makes it likely she wouldn’t have wanted to put Talocan and its’ people at risk either). Also, if Riri could invent something like this, sooner or later some other scientist will pop up who can do the same, because people who are gifted like that are rare...but by no means a one-time-only-in-all-of-human-existence. So no matter HOW she’s taken out of the picture, that’s only delaying the problem, not solving it. And FFS!!! If he wanted to keep her out of reach of western ambitions, keeping her in Talocan (if he didn’t trust Wakanda enough) would have been perfectly sufficient, no murder needed. Then there’s the bit about firing Okoye. WTF??? First of all, Shuri’s an adult and a princess responsible for her people, fully capable of making executive decisions on her own and EVERYBODY was aware that this was a risky mission beforehand. Hell, it wasn’t the first time Shuri did risky stuff in her life either. So yeah, punishing Okoye for not being all-powerful and not being able to pull an unrealistic Deus Ex Machina move to save Shuri, and especially considering that it is up to Shuri to decide for herself which risks and actions to take? Doesn’t make one lick of sense. It makes even LESS sense, considering that from all the people present, Okoye is the most qualified where it comes to getting Shuri back. And EVEN LESS SENSE that Ramonda’s anger comes from “having lost ALL of her family” when at the end of the movie, we learn that she has a grandson AND that she’s met him. Doesn’t he count at all for her? Btw, fridging characters in order to motivate others to grow and take action they wouldn’t have otherwise? A really tired old trope that robbed Ramonda of her dignity and power. Never mind that we already lost T’Challa in this movie and adding Ramonda on top of that was just adding insult to the injury. Then there’s this bit about “oh, I had the Kimoyo beads bugged” from Valentina Allegra de Fontaine? Please. Since when is western tech and knowledge even remotely on par with the tech of Wakanda / with the tech Shuri built? All within the few couple of minutes it took Ross to get to the scene to boot too. Without any kind of explanation on how the fuck they pulled this highly unrealistic feat off, this bit totally undermined the competence Shuri and Wakanda’s tech are supposed to have and it seems like an utterly unnecessary “ha ha, see, ultimately white people are better than you” gotcha moment.

Also, Namor is supposed to put his people first...but in the end, after sending a LOT of his people to die in the fight against Wakanda, he decides to just call everything off, after stressing how absolutely and utterly NON-negotiable murdering Riri was, just because Shuri decided to spare his life. Yeah, that’s hypocrisy of the highest order. Nevermind that somebody who witnessed / is well aware of the violence of white colonizers against BIPOC women and who is obviously still angry and upset about it, should NOT be willing to murder a black woman that easily and without second thought, let alone without a DAMN good reason and only after much, much soul-searching.  Also, what did it get him in the end?

NOTHING HE COULDN’T HAVE EASILY HAD WITHOUT GETTING TONS OF PEOPLE KILLED ON BOTH SIDES. Riri is still alive and free (and not even been kept safe and out of reach in Wakanda, like Shuri suggested at first, but returning to her life in the US, where she will be at a higher risk of being abducted / forcibly conscripted by other powers). (Side-note: is it just me, or did her suit seem very shoddily animated when compared to Tony’s?) And Wakanda is now an ally? HELL, considering how isolated they were becoming on an international stage, they’d have probably been perfectly delighted to consider an alliance well before he started this whole shit-show. Overall, the plot of this movie makes NO sense and violates a lot of the characters’ integrity six ways to sunday, having them act like immature, stupid teenagers instead of the experienced, competent people they’re supposed to be. Somebody (or a lot of somebodies) took lazy shortcuts here in order to drive a plot forward that was all focused on a maximum of flash and bang and Celebrity Big Brother style drama instead of telling a meaningful, consistent story. Among the few bright lights here were Okoye, with Danai Gurira pulling off a small miracle to give the character dignity and depth despite the godawful script, Shuri, whose struggle with the grief over her brother’s death and with trying to find a path forward for herself really hit home hard, as well as Riri, who was fun to watch as she rejoiced in the tech she had created, but who was also willing to take on responsibility and do the right thing. And finally Nakia, whose heartbreak was still palpable and yet it was incredibly admirable and inspiring how she worked through that, nevermind how she was absolutely badass as she came to rescue Shuri and Riri, as well as M’Baku, with Winston Duke adding either a light-hearted or a serious note to the scene as needed.  Sadly, overall, it’s not a movie I’m going to watch again and it was a huge disappointment.

[dawnwynters]

~~WIP Wednesday~~

So, first WIP. Trying this tumblr thing out. Hope you enjoy? (I'm so damn awkward)

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WIP (Working) Title: Feelings

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She easily found Juvia and Lisanna, hugging them both and telling them she was heading home because she really didn’t want to stay at the party if Dan was there and constantly trying to get under her skin. “We’ll talk soon, I promise.” She kissed both of their cheeks before she headed towards the door, her dreams of a peaceful escape shattering as Dan blocked her path.

“Lucy! I don’t believe you’ve met my Angel.” He grinned at her, his eyes slowly moving down her body despite the woman in his arm. “She’s a reporter, too. She works for the Magnolia branch of the National Paper. She covers the big stories as they happen. So much better than covering small time, fluff stuff, right?”

Lucy gave the white-haired woman a genuine smile despite the barbs in her heart at Dan’s well aimed dig. “That’s amazing. But, if you excuse me, I was just-“

“Angel also lives in his amazing penthouse!” Dan grinned maliciously at her, not realizing the frown on Angel’s face as she caught on to what he was doing. “She also models on the side. She has the best fucking body I’ve ever seen.”

Lucy kept her face neutral, trying not to take his words to heart even as they stung because she took pride in her looks. “I’m happy for you, Dan. But, really, I was just-“

“There you are,” Natsu slid up beside Lucy, his arm curling around her waist as he pulled her against his body. “Bedroom’s the other way.”

Lucy’s eyes widened just a fraction as she noticed Natsu was now shirtless, his belt was unbuckled, and pants were undone. “Wh-“

“Ya promised I could lick whipped cream off ya in celebration, Luce.” He purred the words, holding up a can of spray whipped cream as his eyes locked on hers, silently telling her to go with it. “I’ve been dreaming about it all night, baby.”

“S-Sorry,” She stumbled out, her hands resting on his bare chest as she decided to go with it despite how mortified she was. “I was heading out to grab something.”

“Mmm, don’t worry, baby. I got everything we need in the room.” He held the can up. “Wanna open that pretty little mouth of yours for me?” He was completely ignoring the stunned looks from everyone around them, giving Lucy his undivided attention and grinning when she opened her mouth almost instantly. “Good girl.” He sprayed some of the whipped cream in her mouth, pulling back just enough to have some drop on her collarbone. “Oops.”

Lucy’s fingers lightly dug into his chest as she watched him duck his head down, his tongue sliding across her collarbone and up her neck until his lips were at her ear.

“Put your legs around my waist. Trust me.” He whispered, lifting her up and smirking when she did as he told her to. “Let’s go. I’m ready for my reward.” He carried her off to one of the bedrooms, not bothering to look at anyone as they left. “Sorry.” He muttered, setting her gently down on the bed before stepping back and fixing his pants. “You looked so hurt and uncomfortable.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide and her face bright red as she watched him pull his shirt back on. “S-So your solution was to do-“ She gestured helplessly. “That?”

He chuckled as he started pulling his socks and boots back on. “Yeah. Because he’s trying to hurt you because he knows you’re still single and he thinks the more he bugs you, the quicker you’ll go back to him. I just made sure he knew you had moved on.” He glanced at her as he tied the laces on his boot. “Everyone was just watching. They all knew what he was doing and no one fucking did anything. It pissed me off. You don’t deserve that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. “I just wanted to get ya out of there and save your pride at the same time.”

She stared at him, completely baffled by his sudden mood change. “Th-Thanks.” She whispered, looking away as she tried to calm her racing heart down. “So do we just sit here and wait an appropriate amount of time before leaving?”

“Nah,” He smirked and moved to the window, shoving it up and showing her the fire escape. “Why don't you let me walk ya home?” He held his hand out to her. “I promise after we get on the ground, I’ll keep my hands and mouth to myself.” He winked.

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[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts 2 and 9 with Stephen Strange x Beauty, please? It might be sweet seeing him comfort her after she had a really cold and exhausting day.

2. "Drink some of this tea, it will warm you up."

9. "Go to sleep, I will not leave you alone."

Hurt/Comfort Stephen Strange x Beauty Lincoln (OFC)

Hey, Stephen - I'm so so sorry, but I'm gonna have to cancel on our plans tonight. I've had an incredibly rotten day at work and stuff, so I just want to curl up on my sofa & watch something mind numbing & lick my wounds a bit.🥺Even though I miss you like crazy, I just wouldn't be good company at all. We'll have to try again, hopefully soon. Love you. Always.💋💋 

Stephen gnawed on his lower lip as he read Beauty's text a third time. His schedule lately had been jampacked as supernatural activity across the globe has kicked into overdrive in the month leading up to Halloween. The rise in incursions from eldritch realms was to be expected at this time of year, but it was often complicated by amateur ghost hunters and wannabe practitioners of magic or voodoo either trying to fight the baddies on their own, or summon malevolent spirits to do their bidding. Meaning he and his fellow sorcerers had twice the work to do—protecting humanity from both mystical dangers and from the foolish antics of those who believed they had a calling to do the same.

He glanced over at the vase holding a dozen and a half long stem American Beauty roses in several shades of pink, which he'd meant to accompany his apologies for missing their last three date nights. Thinking that his girl must be in a very bad way to make tonight their fourth miss. Crap. Stephen decided at once he wasn't going to let that happen. As quickly as his scarred fingers would allow, he texted back. 'Understood. Missing you too, sweetheart. We can reschedule. You rest up & take it easy tonight. And please just let me know when you get home safely...so I don't need to worry so much.'

Beauty's reply came right away. 'Will do. Thanks for understanding, magic man. And for worrying about me.💗' Stephen had to smile fondly; a sweet sort of warmth always filled his chest when she called him that. And man, had he been missing that warmth! If he hadn't already decided to surprise her, that simple little phrase would've been enough to set his plan in motion. 

Beauty stood before her door, damp-haired (having forgotten her umbrella in her desk drawer) and with the lower half of her sweater-coat and her suede boots drenched from being splashed by a taxi that had pulled up to the curb as she been waiting to cross the street. At least the first time Stephen sees me in weeks won't be with me looking this bedraggled, she consoled herself. Although I'd rather warm up in his arms than in that old afghan thrown across my sofa top.

It's better this way anyway, she sighed forlornly, zipping off the text he'd asked her to send so that he'd know she'd gotten home in one piece. Stepping through her door, Beauty noted the room was candlelit and redolent with one of her favorite scents in the world. Gingerbread. This just had to be Stephen's work! Already her heart—weighed down by all the bad news she'd received at work this day—began to feel a bit lighter.

She dumped her attache and pocketbook on the floor and shrugged off her wet sweater, hanging it on one of the hooks beside her door. Inhaling deeply (he must've found her stash of gingerbread scented candles) Beauty called out his name.

Stephen came around the corner from the kitchen, wearing his dear, lop-sided grin and one of her frilly aprons over jeans—surely a sight he intended to amuse her. He had the sleeves of the dark blue silk shirt she'd recently given him (just because she'd known he'd look damn fine in it) rolled up, further indication he had something brewing in the kitchen. "Oh, Stephen...you didn't have to go to this trouble. I would've been fine just crashing on the couch."

"Nonsense," he insisted as he came to stand in front of her, smoothing one hand over her wet hair. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't do what I could to take care of you?" 

Speechless for the moment, Beauty lowered her gaze shyly—and to hide the fact that tears stood in her eyes. Stephen's voice, low and deep and rich with honest concern, continued, "I've lost track of all the times you've taken care of me at the end of a rough day. It's long past time I returned the favor." He pulled her into his ready arms.

Beauty nodded and laid her head upon his shoulder, and then the tears did come as he rocked her gently. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, baby. Just let me be here for you—and let me remind you of how much I love you..."

She had cried for a good ten minutes, clinging tightly to him, only aware that her hair and clothes and boots had dried completely in the interim (a subtle charm Stephen had worked for her comfort) until shegathered her wits and backed out of his arms. "Go get changed," he instructed her gently, "I laid your jammies and robe out on your bed, and then you can meet me back her for something to warm you on the insides, okay?"

Beauty nodded silently, kissing his cheek before following her good doctor's orders. When she returned to the living room, she discovered that Stephen had set a small tray on the coffee table, along with a vase of gorgeous roses. He motioned for her to take a seat.  "Drink some of this tea, it will warm you up."

Meekly, gratefully, she accepted the cup, sipping gingerly until she could tell it was the perfect temperature. "Now," Stephen told her, picking up the remote control, "I've got The Princess Bride cued up for your viewing pleasure, unless you prefer Practical Magic to begin with instead..."

"You remembered..."

"That we were watching that the first time I finally had the sense enough to kiss you?" Stephen cupped her cheek and leaned closer, "How could I not, sweetheart? That was the best first kiss of my life..."

"Don't tease me," she whispered.

"Simple truth, Beauty. And my life has been better and better every day since." Stephen took her free hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles, "I should probably tell you these things more often. I'm gonna try my damndest going forward, to do just that. And to take care of you as you deserve." He stood up, "And now supper. Your favorite comfort foods on the menu. Pizza Hut pepperoni pan pizza—and a mac'n'white cheddar cheese that I made from a box mix myself."

"Will there be dessert," she asked, gifting him her sweetest smile—the first of the evening.

"Ben & Jerry's reverse chocolate chunk--"

"But they don't make that anymore!"

"I know," he winked, "But don't ask a sorcerer to reveal all his secrets, honey. There needs to be at least a little mystery to keep the spice in a relationship."

Sated on pizza, mac'n'cheese, and her all-time favorite ice cream, Beauty was feeling a whole world better than before she had stepped through the door of her flat. As they watched the magical romance, she shared with Stephen the things that had made her day so awful. Budget cuts at the Library meant she's have to lay off at least one staff member and truncate the Library Page program she'd started two years earlier. She'd found out that one of her students in the 5-8yr old reading group was battling leukemia and had been sent to St. Jude's Hospital in the hopes of getting lifesaving treatment. And shortly before she had initially texted Stephen, her brother had called with the sad news that his wife had miscarried four months into her pregnancy. In Stephen's arms, she found the exact comfort she had been needing, but hadn't wanted to impose upon his valuable time to ask for. 

The heavy emotions of the day, coupled with the carb heavy meal Beauty had consumed, finally asserted themselves as bone deep exhaustion. Though she was doing her best to stay awake, Stephen could feel her drifting off. He nuzzled the top of her head and tightened his arm around her. "You wanna go to bed, honey? We can pick up the movie where we left off, on another night."

"Uh-huh," she yawned, snuggling even closer, "I'd rather stay here with you, Stephen. It's been ages since I've felt this warm and cozy. I...I don't want it to end."

Stephen hummed agreeably. "I know the feeling, baby. I've been missing this more than I even realized. I'm not gonna let us go this long apart again. We both deserve better. So for now," he sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head atop hers, "Go to sleep, I will not leave you alone."

Secure in the care of the man she adored, Beauty slept more soundly than she had in months. In the morning, she awoke in her bed beside him, and it proved to be the beginning of a very beautiful day.

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buy me a coffee?☕

@stewardofningishzida ~ thank you again for giving me a chance to write Beauty & her Stephen! It's been so damn long, and I've been missing them together.

[bunnakit]

Don't Make This a Big Deal (For Me) Excerpt

Because I can't keep this GunChan train to myself and I've become so attached to early 20s Gun and Chan, I love them your honor

“Khun Korn allowed me the rest of the evening off after a successful mission last night,” He explains, watching Gun’s jaw tick before his tongue rolls around in front of his teeth. If he’d had any doubts on what had soured Gun’s mood they were all now laid to rest. 

“How generous of him.” Gun practically spits the words with all the venom in his body and Chan closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to do this again, doesn’t want their little time alone soured by a war of attrition between brothers and blood rights. He knows things aren’t easy for Gun, he’s had to fight tooth and nail for every scrap of success he could eke out from under his brother, and Chan’s guilt grows each time his loyalty teeters perfectly in the center. 

He remembers their conversation a year and a month ago, sat under the dim lights of a noodle shop at three in the morning. 

Chan’s knuckles were bruised, a cut bisected his lips, and there was a distinct imprint of a boot outlined against his dark shirt. He pressed the frosty glass of beer to his cheek which was already swollen and mottled a rainbow of different colors. He glanced up as Gun returned from the pay phone outside, hating the concern he saw in his eyes. 

“Don’t start.” He mumbled, lowering his glass to take a long drink before licking away the foam on his upper lip. Gun made a soft ‘tch’ sound as he sat back down, drinking his own beer and digging into the steaming bowl of noodles that had arrived in his absence. 

“You can’t keep doing this shit, Chan. I think it’s time to consider my offer.” Gun gave him a pointed look before diving into his food. 

Chan lifted his glass to his cheek again, watching the broth of his soup cool and separate. He watched the little globules of fat dance around on the surface before heaving a large sigh that irritated his bruised ribs. 

“Fine.” He knew he sounded defeated but there really wasn’t any other way around it. If he continued fighting his brother’s debtors like this he’d end up dead in an alleyway somewhere. Who would miss him, anyway? He had no one left that would even know he was gone – no one except for Gun. 

“Good. I’ll pick you up in a few days and we can get you settled in at the compound.” Gun had that pleased little upturn to the corner of his lip and suddenly Chan couldn’t remember why he’d been fighting this all so hard. 

But Khun Korn had ruined that as well. Chan had been cornered the very next day and made an offer to join the latest batch of recruits for the main family. He hadn’t been in a position to decline if the gun held by the head of the guards was any indication. Gun had been apoplectic, storming the halls of the tower with teeth bared and accusations loaded. Chan hadn’t been there for it, but he’d heard the rumors and seen the way the other guards looked at him. 

All his free time had then been monopolized by Khun Korn and the rigorous training planned for the new recruits. He’d excelled at firearms training but struggled with escaping his bonds underwater. His only skills were what he had learned in back alley brawls and schoolyard tousles, far removed from the ex-military and gang-born men that had been around him. 

He blinks back into the present, watching as Gun anxiously rubs at his outgrown stubble and tosses a stack of papers onto the table. Chan decides to rise from his chair, feeling Gun’s eyes on him the entire way to the drink cart where he pours them each a few fingers of whiskey – the good stuff. 

“He was pretty upset you managed to solidify that drug deal with the Italians.” It wasn’t leaking information if it was obvious, merely an olive branch. It is worth it when he hands Gun a drink and watches his lips curl into a smile. 

“Come here.” He stops when Gun gently tugs at his wrist and guides him to sit beside him on the sofa. Little moments like this have a way of bringing a flutter to his chest and relaxing all his bones. He misses his best friend in the tower, misses these scarce days when they can shed their roles and settle back into what they were before they became entangled in the dichotomy of the major and minor families.

tagging @porschesbabydaddy and @haahka for the lil preview ehehe

[thatgirlonstage]

I am so very possibly kicking a hornet’s nest with this and may regret posting it immediately but

For being The Fandoms Website it’s kind of shocking to me how often posts here advocating for indie art *over and instead of* mainstream/big budget stuff just ignore the fact that part of the draw of art is that it’s communal.

I recognize and agree with the fact that by far some of the most interesting, boundary-pushing, insightful and incisive and bold art comes out of the indie scene. I think socially we ought to give indie artists more support and incentives, culturally we ought to be unafraid of sharing and talking about and recommending and creating transformative work of the weird niche indie projects that we find. I am all for support of indie artists in every way we can give it to them.

But if you accompany your pitch for indie art with “delete your Netflix and Amazon prime and never go to a major Hollywood movie ever again or you’re a bad person who doesn’t actually support indie artists at all” that’s… not helpful. Because while sometimes you may watch or read or listen to something purely for your own enjoyment and artistic fulfillment, it’s so often also about how art is a Fun Thing To Do With Your Friends Who Also Like The Thing. And yes, sometimes you can get your friends into the niche indie thing too, and that’s awesome!! But sometimes you don’t have friends who are into the subject matter of the niche indie thing, or the one friend you have who would be into it is in the middle of law school and isn’t going to be able to read anything for fun for the next two years, or they have brainworms and The Time Isn’t Right To Try This Thing, or… there’s a lot of ways that you end up the only person you know who’s read or watched The Thing, and trying to dig for fellow fans online nets you two pieces of fanart from five years ago and a single total stranger who you don’t really vibe with or want to talk to. If this is the only way you experience art, it will get so lonely so fast.

In contrast, if you’re watching The New Hit Show on HBO or Amazon or wherever, that’s water cooler talk. That gives you something in common with your coworkers or classmates or the guy at the front desk. If you’re watching the season’s most popular anime or reading the Hugo-sweeping new fantasy series, that might be less well known to random people in your life, but it’s very very easy to find communities online with your choice of people to talk to and hang out with and make new friends with.

I’m not saying you should engage with all popular media with no sense of comparison or scale. If something pushes particularly heinous messaging or had exceptionally bad labor practices or something else that crosses a line, by all means stay away from it and encourage others to do so. And please believe me when I say I am entirely and furiously aware that artists have been getting fucked over by corporations since forever and—particularly with everything happening with AI—it’s only getting worse. I don’t think our current state of affairs is good. I just don’t think acting like someone is irredeemably soulless because they still watch every MCU movie in theaters is helping it get better.

Support and pitch indie artists everywhere, always. Just please also have some compassion for the fact that people wanting to read/watch the popular thing isn’t just FOMO or boot-licking devotion to a corporation—it’s about wanting to share joy and excitement and fun through art with other people. Which is truly about the most human desire I can think of.

[smokeybrandcompositions]

These Boots Were Made for Licking

I am having the best time watching Trumps campaign implode. That first assassination attempt was a long time coming, mostly because dude is a terrible person with terrible politics and better men have been killed for less. I don’t condone violence to that extent but I’m not losing sleep over it either. Seriously, I was surprised it took that long, especially after the Putin stuff, the stolen fed docs, and the coup attempt. The second one felt kind of staged, Like dude was a plant to distract from the ABYSMAL performance Drumpf has had since that Kamala debate. Obviously, we still have a month and change until the election but, if Harris wins, she does so because of how well she goaded Trump into showing who he is. Concepts of a plan? Crowd sizes? F*cking Haitian immigrants eating park geese and pet dogs? Word? On a televised national debate? That last bit is what’s f*cking killing me right now. Like, really?

Trump thinks very low of Haitians. As president of the United States, mans is on record as calling Haiti a “sh*thole country”. That’s a direct quote. He said that sh*t YEARS ago. To see him glom onto such an absurd rumor is par for the course, I guess. The fact that his idiot MAGA cultist followers eat that sh*t up, isn’t a surprise either. What is surprising, is the fact that he even has to resort to such blatant fear mongering this late in the campaign. Kamala has him scared and rightfully so. She basically obliterated him in the polls across the nation. Right now, most pollsters have her taking the W by three to five points, nationally. Trump might be in for a historic loss because, after this, if he can get the big chair and use that power to kibosh all his cases, mans is definitely going to prison. He is running for his life and losing, which has him panic-flailing an latching on to anything that will scare white, suburban, people. Women, mostly, but he burned that bridge with the abortion thing. Kamala has already proven she’s strong on borders, reminding everyone that there was legislature on the table and Trump killed the vote, but that she’ll sign it into law the second she gets the White house. Can Brown Scare anymore. What’s left? The tried and true Black Menace. Only it’s not. That Haitian sh*t is bullsh*t and I can prove it.

JD Vance, Trump’s VP and Senator of Ohio (the place where all the Haitian shenanigans are meant to be happening.) basically said he made it up. That he will lie to everyone in order to further his agenda. It’s literally a “friend of mine, heard from their neighbor, that her daughter” situation. His constitute told him so. It’s not like the rumor started on 4chan as a racist joke and some really sh*tty, really stupid, Far Right blogs picked it up. It’s not like professional troll, Laura Loomer, who, apparently, is Trumps closest adviser now for some reason, doesn’t trade ins racist, bigoted, inflammatory rhetoric like “Those Darkies ate a dog”. The illest thing about all of this? Those Haitians are here legally, under the protection of the United States! We BROUGHT them here to SAVE them from the strife of their country. They’re political refugees, here legally, working jobs and contributing to the country. They pay taxes and follow our laws because, if they don’t, they get to go back to Haiti where they will absolutely be brutalized to death. No person, in their right mind, would risk that for some Canada Goose gumbo! It just doesn’t make sense but nothing about Trump, does. Nothing about his campaign, does. None of this makes sense, unless you are a crazy, racist, bootlicker.

[smokeybrand]

These Boots Were Made for Licking

I am having the best time watching Trumps campaign implode. That first assassination attempt was a long time coming, mostly because dude is a terrible person with terrible politics and better men have been killed for less. I don’t condone violence to that extent but I’m not losing sleep over it either. Seriously, I was surprised it took that long, especially after the Putin stuff, the stolen fed docs, and the coup attempt. The second one felt kind of staged, Like dude was a plant to distract from the ABYSMAL performance Drumpf has had since that Kamala debate. Obviously, we still have a month and change until the election but, if Harris wins, she does so because of how well she goaded Trump into showing who he is. Concepts of a plan? Crowd sizes? F*cking Haitian immigrants eating park geese and pet dogs? Word? On a televised national debate? That last bit is what’s f*cking killing me right now. Like, really?

Trump thinks very low of Haitians. As president of the United States, mans is on record as calling Haiti a “sh*thole country”. That’s a direct quote. He said that sh*t YEARS ago. To see him glom onto such an absurd rumor is par for the course, I guess. The fact that his idiot MAGA cultist followers eat that sh*t up, isn’t a surprise either. What is surprising, is the fact that he even has to resort to such blatant fear mongering this late in the campaign. Kamala has him scared and rightfully so. She basically obliterated him in the polls across the nation. Right now, most pollsters have her taking the W by three to five points, nationally. Trump might be in for a historic loss because, after this, if he can get the big chair and use that power to kibosh all his cases, mans is definitely going to prison. He is running for his life and losing, which has him panic-flailing an latching on to anything that will scare white, suburban, people. Women, mostly, but he burned that bridge with the abortion thing. Kamala has already proven she’s strong on borders, reminding everyone that there was legislature on the table and Trump killed the vote, but that she’ll sign it into law the second she gets the White house. Can Brown Scare anymore. What’s left? The tried and true Black Menace. Only it’s not. That Haitian sh*t is bullsh*t and I can prove it.

JD Vance, Trump’s VP and Senator of Ohio (the place where all the Haitian shenanigans are meant to be happening.) basically said he made it up. That he will lie to everyone in order to further his agenda. It’s literally a “friend of mine, heard from their neighbor, that her daughter” situation. His constitute told him so. It’s not like the rumor started on 4chan as a racist joke and some really sh*tty, really stupid, Far Right blogs picked it up. It’s not like professional troll, Laura Loomer, who, apparently, is Trumps closest adviser now for some reason, doesn’t trade ins racist, bigoted, inflammatory rhetoric like “Those Darkies ate a dog”. The illest thing about all of this? Those Haitians are here legally, under the protection of the United States! We BROUGHT them here to SAVE them from the strife of their country. They’re political refugees, here legally, working jobs and contributing to the country. They pay taxes and follow our laws because, if they don’t, they get to go back to Haiti where they will absolutely be brutalized to death. No person, in their right mind, would risk that for some Canada Goose gumbo! It just doesn’t make sense but nothing about Trump, does. Nothing about his campaign, does. None of this makes sense, unless you are a crazy, racist, bootlicker.

[ferroussulfayt]

Yo man, you gotta be, you know, you gotta be on to die, man What's up with that? Yo bro-shot, yeah, word up bro-shot Uh, we need some brothers to be, uh, like droppin' knowledge Ay man, why don't you quit talkin' all the stuff And do something about it? You know what I'm sayin'? Oh, you talking about, kick some, uh, knowledge Yeah, well you do that like right now And some wisdom for the people, what's up with that? Okay, I got it (Brothers and sisters)

Ya mom is so fat (How fat is she?) Ya mama is so big and fat that she can get busy With twenty-two burritos, but times are rough I seen her in the back of Taco Bell with handcuffs The sad fact (What?) Ya mama smokes crack (What?) She got a burning yearning and there's no turning back Her knuckles drag down to the ground where she walk Spit comes out that bitch mouth when she talk Naked on a mountain top, tootin on a flizoot Ridin on a horse drinking whisky out a bizoot

She's got the wings and teeth of an African bat Her middle name is Mudbone and on top of all that Ya mama got a glass eye with the fish in it (Ya mama got a glass eye with the fish in it) Ya mama got a glass eye with the fish in it (Ya mama, ya mama, ya mama)

Ya mama look like she's been in the dryer with some rocks With the big bust nose sucking dirt out of socks Held up the ice-cream truck with a slingshot She grabbed a bag of Cheese Corn and a soda pop Ya mama root 'n' toot and stole my loot and my suit She may have the muscles, but no, she's not cute She's not pretty, oh what a pity, got the glass titty Filled up with Kool-Aid, just for the kiddies On a cliff butt naked, tootin' on a flute Ridin' on a horse drinkin whisky out a boot

She's got the teeth and the wings of an African bat Her middle name is Mudbone and on top of all that Ya mama got the wooden legs with real feet (Ya mama got the wooden legs with real feet) I said ya mama got the wooden legs with real feet (Ya mama, ya mama, ya mama)

Watch out, I'm thinkin' about your mother to a funky beat I went to your house, and she licked me on the cheek I said, "Excuse me, lady, but I remember seeing you at the Palladium Way back in September 'cause you was beatboxin' for Lou Rawls In some bright red boxer drawers" You said ya moms was pretty and young But she's old as dirt and got hair on her tongue Ya moms, ya moms, she uses Brut And I saw her ridin a horsey drinking whisky out a boot

She's got the wings and teeth of an African bat Her middle name is Mudbone, and on top of all that Ya mama's got a peg leg with a kickstand (Ya mama's got a peg leg with a kickstand) I said ya mama's got a peg leg with a kickstand (Ya mama, ya mama, ya mama)

Aw, ya mom is so fat (How fat is she?) We rode up on her back to get some burgers from Wendy's And her skates went flat, I got stuck in her butt crack They thought I was lost but I was caught by the G-strap Heaven forbid a giant fart would give way 'Cause that would blow me round the world in a day We drove into the drive-in and she didn't have to pay Because we dressed her up to look just like a Chevrolet Naked on a mountain top tootin on a flizoot Ridin' on a horse, drinkin whisky out a bizoot

With the wings and the teeth of an African bat, (bat, bat, bat) Her middle name is Mudbone and on top of all that Ya mama's got an afro, with a chin strap (Ya mama's got an afro, with a chin strap) I said ya mama's got an afro, with a chin strap (Ya mama, ya mama, ya mama)

Ya mama got snake skin teeth Ya mama wears coat hangers for earrings, dude she looks like Ya mama was making sex threats to Ricky Bell and shit Ya mama jacked the Kool-aid man for a sip, nigga Ya mama was walking down on Sunset with a 99 cent sign on her back (You're a sellout) Ya mama's a sellout nigga, ya mama Nigga, ya mama did a pop tune nigga Ya mama's glasses are so thick She look into a map and see people wavin' at her Your mother got an Ouija board on her back Sidney with EQ and everything what he be sayin' His mother be hooked, fishin' with a and reel at the frozen food section Tre's mama got Playdough teeth and shit Ya mother be eatin' daisies like Now and Laters and shit Ya mama's an extra on the Simpsons and shit Ya mama's so fat you can't even see her legs It just looks like she's just gliding across the floor

What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.

[aohendo]

Prince for Hire Deleted Scenes, Part 5

Amount deleted: 11,242 (...oops)

Reason for deleting? Finally figured out the way to the end of the novel without it being completely scattered. Unfortunately, that requires edits and deleting this bit which was taking the plot a different direction. In this version, the end of the plot would have revolved around Kiris’ magic, something which I’ve been trying to avoid ‘cause this thing isn’t about that. On the bright side, this stuff could be a pretty decent short(ish) story, later down the line!

Way to fix it? Batar will now find out about Kiris well after ‘L Tuola announces that they have in imposter in their court; Riasil and his relationship with Kiris will be saved for another novel and deleted from this one; the growing friendship between Kiris and Iiriok will be highlighted for maximum ‘betrayal’ pain; and Kaar will continued to be sneaky until he deems it the right time.

Excerpt from the deleted stuff below the cut.

Excerpt length: 433 words.

Context: the princes have are in a survival-type challenge, Kiris has been wandering around with Batar, and the Boots just summoned Kumarr, who’s basically a soul-eater.

Tag list: @whimsyqueen, @on-noon, @cactusmotif, @houndsofcorduff, @paradisiacalshroud. Let me know if anyone would like to be added or removed!

“The Boots are quiet,” he said, slowly.

“That is a good thing.”

“They’re never this quiet.”

“Then take the blessing, literally, while you can.”

He shook his head. The Realms may be anything but quiet, but the Boots he could almost always hear, no matter the ruckus. Casually, he grabbed for his arms and squeezed. Pain welled immediately, and the mask of his face flinched towards expressionless before he let go. Not Prophecy. The Boots were never quiet.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, continuing to guide him out of the populated area and around the walls.

“There are only three situations in which the Boots ever shut up,” he said, softly, mind whirring and all of a sudden numb. “Prophecy, because I’m in the wrong time and can’t hear them, but this is not Prophecy. Realms-thickening proofs, like the Tesendi library or the raakva earmuffs, but this is neither.”

“And the third?”

He shook his head. “The third is dead.” It stung to say it, no matter how many times he’d said it before, to himself, to the Boots, to the Other. “They’re always whispering something, Batar, but they’re quiet. It’s wrong.”

Even when he strained his ears, there was nothing. They were nothing more than the faint twinkle of their Affiliation; not conscious thought, not speech, not their usual running commentary. “There must be a new fourth thing.” Still, he raised his hands to his scars and squeezed again, the tightness and fire spasming his arms and shaking his hand on his staff.

“Stop that.”

Kiris stopped. Relief did not flood him, the pain lingering. “Not Prophecy,” he repeated, and looked about them for any random proofing. “Not proofing. And Dyrmos is dead.”

Prophecy, proofing, Dyrmos. Prophecy, proofing, and Dyrmos.

“Dyrmos,” Batar said, carefully.

Kiris nodded. “My mentor. Taught me everything I know about survival, and even the Boots respected him enough to shut up so I could listen. We did… we did the documentation for ‘Prince Yphant na Suem, vakon, Cym’ together. It was his idea.”

Now, she watched him just as carefully as she said, “na Y’mel?”

His heart roared in his ears. Still, the world was silent. The Realms screamed. Kiris licked his lips and tried to steady the Other and himself as best he could and couldn’t quite do it. “You know of him?”

“Dyrmos na Y’mel, of Bohthi.”

His mouth was dry and not from thirst. His headache pounded as he flailed to keep himself composed. Dyrmos was the best; no principality was meant to know of him; no prince was meant to be able to name him.