#been thinking about this with melody for a while

[realcube]

AT THE SAME DAMN TIME!

hot w/ hq duos! (pt 2)

ft.. ushijima + tendou // kuroo + kenma // kageyama + sugawara // bokuto + atsumu + sakusa // matsukawa + hanamaki

tws & tags.. nsfw minors dni. threeways (mmf). fourway (mmmf). specific warnings before each.

note.. click here for part one.

★ USHIJIMA + TENDOU

tw & tags.. vaginal, praise, begging, size kink, implied sex worker ! reader

it may have taken a decade, but the oppertunity finally arises wherein ushijima is able to visit tendou in paris. that's not to say they haven't seen in each other in ten years, but due to ushijima's commitments and contracts with the schweiden adlers, he is very bound to japan even during his time-off, which is why tendou most often flies home for them to meet.

however, ushijima eventually managed to arrange a trip to france. tendou showed him around the city, and most importantly, the chocolaterie he opened. he worked for an employer for seven years before he opened up a shop of his own; his pride and joy, and it was currently performing very well, business-wise. ushijima was more than impressed by his old friend.

while planning the journey, ushijima was going to book a hotel but tendou urged him not to waste his money, stating that his penthouse has a spare room for wakatoshi to sleep in. he embraced tendou's kind offer, and hence, at the end of their first day in paris together, ushijima joined tendou as they travelled back to his apartment.

what he wasn't expecting though, was a random woman roaming around the penthouse when they arrived. tendou didn't seem jarred or disturbed by your presense, so ushijima assumed your weren't an intruder. but equally, you weren't cleaning or cooking, so you couldn't be hired help. did tendou have a girlfriend he failed to mention?

when he turned to his friend to question your occupany in his apartment, tendou explained that he gets quite lonely while in paris — far away from his family and most of his friends — so he pays someone to keep him company. and you do your job very well, keeping him warm inside and out.

ushijima is still quite confused by his friend's explanation, so tendou suggests a demonstration.

though, tendou knows yourtimid and don't like visitors or guests — and hence his nickname for you: 'moody kitty' — so it takes some convincing, but you eventually agree.

your bent over the crytsal top coffee table, with your face and tits smushed against its cool surface while ushijima and tendou, stood next to each other, take turns ploughing into from behind. your skirt has been ripped off, so your bare ass and glistening pussy are on full display to both of them.

currently tendou is balls-deep inside you, sloppily rutting into your cunt over and over, while his familiar, slender fingers rub your folds and tormet your sensitive clit. your melodious moans ring throughout the room and highly overpower his low grunts that emit from his gut with each sporadic thrust. "mph, what a pretty, pretty kitty." he muses. "you've got nothing to be shy about. wakatoshi thinks your sexy too, right?"

"yes." he replies bluntly. ushijima stands aside and strokes his cock, mesmerised by the way your perky ass bounces and your entire perfect body quivers around tendou's dick. meanwhile, tendou doesn't seem to care about the fact he's got your brain fried from his tip repeatedly bumping your cervix. he just continued to rut into you, despite how your twitching figure and squelching pussy indicate that you can't take much more.

"ngh, fuck, sa— hah, satori! too much.." you whine against the table, the beads of saliva forming at corner of your mouth, sticking to the table, "m' so close!"

usually that would be a trigger for tendou to fuck you even harder, but in this instance, it reminds him that he has a guest present and signals that it is time for you to switch handler. "mmh, sorry about this, sugar.. you know i love to see your pretty pussy cum but.." without warning, he jerks himself out and motions for ushijima to take his place. "wakatoshi's turn now, princess. ya ready?"

you gasp at the unexpected action; your entire body suddering at how the cold air floods your previously conjested pussy. the burning sensation in your abdomen momentarily dies down, but it's short-lived, as the gape is soon filled by ushijima bullying his fat cock into your soaked cunt.

thankfully, tendou's actions and foreplay has made you sufficiently wet and lubricated, otherwise there would be no way in hell he'd be able to fit that monster dick inside your tight hole. even you laid there, shocked that it was fully inside you, as you could feel the way it protrudes from your tummy and pushes against your walls.

"mmph, too big! too full.. i can't!" you mewl, clawing at the smooth glass surface of the table to cope with the deliciously agonising stretch of your cunt. while ushijima and tendou simply pass entertained smirks to each other at your sweet cries.

"yes, you can, kitty. don't be shy." tendou purrs while stroking your plump ass, almost patronisingly. "be a good girl for wakatoshi like you are with me. show him how well-bahaved you are. c'mon, he doesn't bite."

ushijima does far worse than bite. you most definitely weren't ready for the way he fucked you. it was like you were being repeatedly impladed, yet somehow it was the best thing you've ever experienced. he had your eyes rolling back in your head and your tongue shamelessly hanging out from your mouth.

meanwhile, an entirely amused tendou slithers under the glass coffee table and lays on his back. that way, when he looks up, he can fuck his fist to the sight of your obscene facial expressions as you get your guts rearranged by his friend.

a smirk flickers over his lips, "not so shy anymore, are we, princess?"

you can't even pretend to grant his question with a sarcastic response as your mind can't even begin to form a coherent thought, from the way ushijima's bulbous tip tortures your g-spot. his dick raking against your spongy walls over and over until they are woefully sore from having to swallow him again and again.

since you were already high from sex with tendou, less than a minute with ushijima's dick inside your pussy already had you begging for a sweet release, "p-please! it's too much.." you cry, steaming up the glass under you with your hot breath, " 'm, ahh!— gunna cum!"

tendou's face burns as his hand furiously tugs at his cock, your gorgeous face and tits serving as perfect jerk material — not to mention your pornographic moans and drenched noises from your poor cunt. "nuh-uh, (y/n). can't cum til you ask wakatoshi for permission." he coos, meeting your lust-clouded gaze from beneath the glass — he can tell how badly you need to finish but unfortunately he loves teasing you even more. "c'mon. be good n' ask. use your words, kitty."

stringing together an intelligble sentence felt like an impossible task, but as you squeezed your eyes shut, and tensed your cunt around wakatoshi's lethal dick — relentless slamming into your pussy, you somehow manage to choke out, "mmmph, please, ushi— hah, fuck!" you spluttered, barely completing two words before an overwhelming surge of bliss overcame you again, throwing you off. but you found it in you to persevere, "can i cum? please can i finish?" you hastily breath out your inquiry as if it were all one word. your chest pressing against the glass with each deep breath you heave while stifling your impending orgasm.

ushijima continues his rythmic pace, his dick throbbing with in the confines of your homey walls as he feels his own climax fast-approaching. ".. yeah." he grunts.

but now it is your turn to shock him. as soon as merely utters the golden word, your cunt immediately clamps down on him, as you let your fiery high blissfully roll over you and totally embody the lust brimming in your abdomen.

and due to this, you even elicit a quiet groan from ushijima as he succumbs to his own climax and fires his hearty load into your hole. it's the best he's every had; he lets his vision glaze over as he's transported elsewhere. somewhere hot and soft. as he revels in the way your convulsing cunt desperately milks him dry, as though it were trying to savour every last drop of his precious seed.

even once you're both done, and you start coming down from your high, he remains buried in your snug cunt. he can't bring himself to pull out.

while ushijima stands there panting, tendou takes a break from pleasuring himself to crawl out from under the table to stand at the opposite end of the coffee table, where your face is. "how's that? good, isn't she?" tendou chuckles at his typically stoic friend appearing to visibly fucked-out.

wakatoshi nods breathlessly.

tendou hums in agreement as he slips his fingers under your chin to prop it up, as he uses his other hand to manoeuvre his cock into your glistening lips. he gazes down at you, and smiles warmly as you obidiently accept his length into your mouth, "she's perfect."

★ KUROO + KENMA

tw & tags.. power dynamics, inappropriate workplace relations, cockwarming, meanie! kenma, degredation, slight analplay, praise, handjobs, good cop/bad cop

kuroo and kenma have important work to do. recently, bouncing ball corp and it's affiliates have signed a contact to run a major event with the japanese volleyball association, led by yours truly. hence, there was less than a week less until the event and still mass amounts of work needing done.

there were heaps of paper work in kenma's office that required filing, while kuroo had thousands of emails to respond to and marketing to clear as head of the jva promotional division. together they decided that they needed to tackle this backlog head-on and pull an all-nighter together at kenma's office in tokyo. there they could have peace and quiet to simply focus on all the duties that required their attention.

they begun work at around 9AM and kept going until 5PM. then they took a one hour dinner break before resuming the grind. however, they ran out of steam again at around midnight, despite the multiple coffees and energy drinks they had gone through.

something stronger was nessecary to keep them focussed. and thankfully kenma had just the thing.

his cute secretary usually clocked out at 5PM but kenma was weary of the fact him and kuroo were going to stay late today, so he scheduled you a night shift instead.

kuroo was skeptical at how a secretary would be able to help with their workload, but he kept his inquires to himself while kenma summoned you to the office.

you arrived around ten minutes afer he texted you, and when kuroo laid eyes on you, it was like he had been instantly awoken, but mostly below the belt. the way your white blouse clung to your alluring figure, and your skirt was inappropriately tight and he could leer over every curve of your perky ass.

"ten minutes? what the hell.." kenma chides, but with a lot less force than usual — he's too tired to spank you like he usually does.

"sorry! i fell asleep at my desk again.." you clasp your hands together and apologise profusely, "i am really sorry. i put a special ringtone for your texts too that's really loud but i still slept through it.."

"again.. do i need a shock collar or something?" he stresses, fidgeting with the pen in his hand as he slouches against his desk. "or how about a vibrator? and i can keep the controller for it."

you blush at the idea, and kuroo is also thoroughly scandalised upon hearing the way kenma talks to his assistant. surely that violates lots of workplace harassment laws, he thinks to himself. however, his view will change once he starts to understand the special nature of the relationship you have with your boss.

"kenma, be nice." he comments. but kenma just rolls his eyes.

"this is kuroo, the head of the promotional divison at the jva." he introduces you to kuroo, then does the reverse, "and this is my secretary, (y/n)." his head snaps back round to glare daggers at you, "be polite, (y/n). don't embarrass me."

you nod nervously under his piercing amber scrutiny and rush over to shake kuroo's hand. "hi, nice to meet you, sir." you splutter.

kuroo smiles up at you warmly, "nice to meet you too." he's got a strong grip but you don't let go until he does first. then, you glance back at kenma for his approval, but all you see is him motioning for you to come closer to him.

which you do, wordlessly. once you are within arms-length, he yanks you forwards and pulls your skirt up, revealing your supple ass and your black thong. "you call that underwear? that's dental floss, slut.."

he spreads your cheeks and runs his slender fingers over your cute asshole, entranced by the way it subtly quivers at his cold touch. "kenma.. stop.." you whine, and kuroo watches in dismay as this happens.

little does he know, you are completed accustomed to and accepting of kenma's perverted antics. you're just a lil' shy when it comes to ass stuff. but even then, you have a safe word with kenma and it certainly isn't 'stop'. kuroo is too horrified (and turned-on) to utter a single word. he's petrified.

kenma lets go of your ass and for moment kuroo believes he has come to his senses, until kenma commands in a low voice, "strip." then kuroo's jaw virtually falls to the floor. and he's even more shocked when you actually do it.

they both watch intently as you sensually pull your skirt down then follow it up by tugging your panties off to reveal your entire ass and pussy. you also unbutton your blouse, then undo your bra and let your tits fall out. your nipples visibly pebbled and erect due to the cold air. and finally, you slip your heels off and shuffle awkwardly in place, awaiting further instruction.

midway through your little show, kenma begins to pull his trousers down to free hardened length. when he holds it in his hand, he doesn't even need to say a word, he just gazes up at you with that risque glint in his eye and you are already trained on what to do next.

usually he'll suck your clit a bit first or play with your nipples to dampen you enough to take his cock, but he hasn't this time, hence you especially struggle to sink down on him. but being the helpful man he is, he pushes you down by the shoulders until your sat nicely on his lap and he is balls-deep inside you.

"nngh, kenma, hurts.." you stutter, your nails digging into the thick material of his shirt. your growing increasing wet by the second, your juices even dripping down his shaft, but that hardly takes away from the strain on your walls.

"of course it does.." he mutters, picking up his pen in one hand and resting the other on the small of your back. "just stay put, okay?"

at some point during that suspicious encounter, kuroo was able to put the pieces together and realised that your relationship might not be entirely professional, like he had initially thought. which was a relief; he worried he was going to have to file an urgent report to HR about his childhood best friend.

"kuroo.." kenma spoke softly, "come over."

kuroo was unsure at first, but perhaps it was due the growing tent in his pants, or maybe his lust-clouded judgement, but he gave minimal resistance before he stood up from his chair, and dragged it over to kenma's side of the desk.

he then took a seat again, but right beside you and kenma. your face was hooked over kenma's shoulder, nuzzling into his bleached hair, while kuroo admired your naked figure, tenderly tracing your exposed spine with the pads of his fingers.

despite this attention, you paid no mind to kuroo whatsoever, causing a gasp to be ripped from your throat when kenma smacks your plump ass. "(y/n), what did i say about being polite?"

you pout at his harsh words then turn to kuroo with glossy eyes, who can only dote over your adorable expression. he cups your cheek in his hands and coos, "aw, don't be so mean to the pretty girl, kenma." he directs his first comment at his friend, then the latter at you, "you're tired, sweet thing, aren't you?"

you nod at his understanding, then nuzzle into his neck instead. he chuckles at this, "yeah? we're all sleepy, huh." you quickly realise he's more buff than kenma, from the way his muscles flex against your skin as he rubs your back. also, he smells like a man; an expensive man. you don't know what cologne he's wearing but it's intoxicating and so romantic.

kuroo starts to undo his fly and pull his cock out from the parition in the fabric of his trousers, but kenma — cold stare not averting from the paperwork in front of him — is quick to warn, "careful. she's a messy slut." he accenuates his point by shifitng his spare hand from the small of your back to under your ass, where he lift you slightly to reveal the creamy ring of essence you've left at his base.

kuroo, opting to save his trousers from being soiled, pulls them down to his knees. "not a slut," kuroo correct gently, as he works on freeing his dick from his briefs, "just excited."

you nod, gaze dropping to watch kuroo rub his long, exposed shaft. his other hand toys with your nipple, playfully but firm enough that it forces your body to face him. he huffs a chuckle at the way you gawk at his impressive length, "think you can help me out too, beautiful?"

"mhm." your hand wanders over his beefy thigh before you fingers cautiously wrap around his cock. his fierce eyes are fixed to you with a glaring precion, soaking up your every move. from the way your bare tits sway as you lean forward, or how you swallow a lump in your throat formed due to kenma cock still nestled up within your walls.

once you have him fully in your grip, you begin to pump his cock gently — stroking it, more than anything. and kuroo lets out a satisfied sigh at the stimulation. however, kenma must have misinterpreted it as a sigh of frustration, as he urges you, "(y/n), go faster. why're you being so lazy today?"

kuroo shakes his head, relaxing back into his chair, and holding your face into his neck by cradling your head. "it's fine, kenma. she's doing perfect." he reassures, pressing a benign peck on your temple, smiling into your skin, "you're too harsh."

kenma rolls his eyes, not averting his feline eyes from the work afore him even once, "she's not your secretary; i know she can do better." kenma argues, in his signature monotone, on accentuated by his tired voice, "maybe you're just too nice to whores."

"awh, don't listen to kenma, sweetheart. you're not a whore." he musues, admiring the way your pretty hands tug at his dick, and how your gorgeous naked body looks sprawled out across him and kenma. he could just eat you up; starting with those cute tits. "maybe you should come back to the jva headquarters with me. i have a lot of things i could use your help with."

"stop that." kenma spits.

kuroo titters at his half-assed attempt to poach his friend's secretary, then leans forward so he can reach his laptop. the rest of the night goes on like this, with kenma's cock planted inside your pussy, and kuroo occasionally grunting under his breath while you stroke him at a very mild rate. it's awfully intimate, and although you anticipate the encounter will escelate once kuroo and kenma finish their work, unfortunately you all fall asleep before that happens. and the janitor has a nasty surprise when he walks in on you all in that position.

★ KAGEYAMA + SUGAWARA

tws & tags.. oral (m receiving) , tit jobs, rough sex, handjob, sex worker! reader, degredation, praise and general messiness

the schweiden adlers scheduled a practise match against another team in their base location, and even though kageyama didn't anyone to watch, sugawara heard about the match through the grapevine and decided to attend — since he was in the area and had the day off work — in order to surprise and show support for an old friend.

suga appears in the stands with only around thirty other people watching, since it was only a practise match. around halfway through the game, kageyama noticed his familiar face in the small crowd, and they briefly flashed each other smiles of acknowledgement.

after the match, suga approached kageyama and they caught up a little bit. talking about what they've been doing since graduation and how things have been going in their personal lives. their conversation was cut short though as kageyama was being urged to shower and change out of his jersey by his coach, and suga happily offered to walk with him to the changing room.

as they walked through the hallways of the sports centre, they continued their idle chatter. suga brought up, "being a professional volleyball must be stressful, huh?"

"eh. not really." kageyama shrugged.

"huh?! seriously?! i mean, i work at an elementary school and i'm stressed out, like, all the time. i've already started finding grey hairs!" suga explains frantically, "so, i have no idea how you cope as a volleyball player. when there's so much pressure for you to perform well at matches, in front of millions of people."

kageyama is a bit perplexed by the 'grey hairs' comment, but he glosses over that and instead replies, "i guess it is a lot of pressure sometimes. but i deal with it pretty well."

"how?" suga asks desperately, anticipating kageyama to introduce him to some sort of intricate zen technique, or a life-changing diet regime. and naturally he was extremely disappointed when tobio responds with,

"there's a janitor at home base who gives blowjobs for ¥4000."

suga simply stares with his mouth hung agape, astounded. taking bjs off some old crusty janitor was not the solution he was seeking at all. however, kageyama must've interpreted his stunned silence as curiosity, as he added, "c'mon, i'll show you." as he makes a b-line down some random hallway, which was clearly not the direction they were meant to go in for the changing rooms, and suga has no choice but to follow him as he can't navigate through this building on his own.

albeit, he makes his intentions very clear as he marches after kageyama, "i'm not going to pay some random guy for a service like that. and you shouldn't be doing that either, it's messed u—" as he drones on, kageyama halts outside a random door and knocks on it, and suga is left truly speechless when the door creaks open and stood there is you in your tight-fitting janitors outfit.

suddenly, suga was reaching into his wallet to see if he had ¥4000 on him.

after an awkward interaction (followed by a smooth monetary transaction), your kneeled down in the janitor's cupboard with suga and kageyama stood in front of you. your bare chest was exposed but you kept your pants on, unlike the two of them who were eager to jam their dicks down your pretty throat.

kageyama was as rough as usual, making full use of your hair in order to maneuver you around to his will, forcing you to deepthroat his cock when he felt like it. "just like that, fuck. keep fuckin' going." he'd heave angrily, brows furrowed together in hedonistic fury.

he loved seeing the imprint of his dick in your neck, or against your puffy cheeks. and the way your eyes would screw shut whenever you got a taste of his bitter precum that would seep onto your tongue as you sucked. "better not stop.."

sugawara was far more adept at feigning kindness. he wouldn't grip your hair the way kageyama would, no, whenevr he wanted your attention, he'd gently cup your chin and guide it so you were gazing up at him. but it was all an act really, because he was far more perverted than kageyama every was. like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

whenever you were pleasing tobio, suga would lean over and fondle your tits while you'd pump his cock. he'd tug and pinch at your hardened nipples and smirk devilishly whenever he'd get any reaction from you. and he was up for far more than bjs, he'd bend his knees slightly so his dick slid perfectly between your tits, and when you'd press your girls together, he audibly groaned at the soft sensation.

through heavy lidded eyes you met the doting hazel stare of suga, who smiles down at you, "you're so pretty.." he muses, leaning over to cup your cheek in his hand, gently grazing your burning skin with his thumb. "such soft tits. you're a dream, dear." the kindness was foreign to you, thus you smiled up at him, while he continued to drag his dick between your tits, bumping your chin occassionally.

kageyama was quick to notice that your mouth was currently unoccupied, and hence seized the oppertunity to snap your head round towards him by your hair, causing you to yelp. "go on," he urged, guiding his cock back to your closed mouth and tapping his leaky tip against your lips, "get to work. swallow it, slut." he growled, a mocking smirk playing on his features.

tobio wasn't usually so forceful with you. he was abrasive, sure, but never rude. there was something different about him today, but admittedly, you kinda enjoyed it. the sinister glint in his ocean eyes caused a canal of heat to stir in your core, and pool in your panties, as you gazed up at him and obidently accepted his length back into your adoring mouth. all while sugawara was still thrusting his dick between your plush tits.

you pushed them together even further, causing a stifled whimper to be pulled from suga. "uhh— that's perfect, angel. thank you — acht, so much." he heaves, unable to suppress a delighted grin at your adorable little face, all stuffed with kageyama's cock, and your gorgeous tits which engulf him so well. "you're too good at that.."

kageyama's cock is shoved virgously down your throat, and he basically uses your mouth as his very own fleshlight. piloting your movements with his fist balled up in your hair, as his hips rock against your sloppy mouth. "heh, you look like a fuckin' whore like this." he blabbers through gritted teeth, "shit- might be cause you are one." and you can tell by the way his grin disappated and his eyes grow watery that he's getting close to his high.

but suga beats him at the chase, as his dick twitches against your chest and before you are given any time to prepare, he unloads his seed between your tits. and being the kind woman you are, you use your hands to push them together to keep his cock wrapped up tight as he climaxes, even if that means your entire chin, neck and tits are all coated in a layer of his semen.

he's got quite a hefty load, and he only pulls away once you are thoroughly painted. his eyes were screwed shut while he came, but once he is able to pry one open and look at the sticky mess he has made of you, he can't help but snicker to himself. "acht, sorry, angel. i've made an awful mess of you, haven't i?" he hums, talking to you in a disturbingly clement tone, "don't worry, it'll be easy to clean. we are in a janitor's cupboard, there should be something that could wi—"

"don't. she looks hot like this." kageyama states bluntly. during sugawara's orgasm, kageyama mercifully reduced his pace and allowed you to slowly bob back and forth on his length and lick his shaft. but not to make it easier for you or anything, of course not; it just happened naturally as kageyama was more entertained by watching sugawara cover you with his hot cum. it was so filthy.

"hah, look like even more of a whore now. covered in cum." kageyama huffed out a chuckle and began to increase the rate at which he was thrusting his cock into your mouth, with such intensity it was such to leave your lips bruised. "bet you like that, don't you? don't you?"

"mmph!" was all you were able to respond as kageyama frantically slammed you against his cock over and over, right until his thick cum unexpectedly shot down your throat. warm and suffocating, threatening to stick to the walls of your throat if you don't swallow it all — so you do, tentatively.

meanwhile, kageyama and suga's eyes did not part from you, not once. "yeah, drink it all up." kageyama groans, stumbling in place from his euphoric high, "savour it and don't miss any. not a drop."

you choke it all down like he orders, then open your mouth to show the proof. kageyama exhales in satisfaction, while sugawara pats your head, "wow, what a good girl, eh?"

you nod, pleased with your work, and believing that the session was coming to a close, you are about to stand upright from your knelt position on the floor, until suga uses his hand on your head to push you back down. "not so fast, angel. you're not done quite yet." he sings, reaching for his wallet which he sat on one of your shelves, "there's another ¥8000 in it for you if you want to go again."

you press your lips together and furrow your brows contemplatively. it's a tricky decision, and suga can detect your hesitancy, and thus he attempts to further persuade you, "c'mon, i think you'd look so pretty covered with some more of our cum, eh?"

★ MATSUKAWA + HANAMAKI

tws & tags.. analplay, vaginal, fingering, shower sex and just general pervertedness.

what you did not realise was that becoming matsukawa's girlfriend and moving in with him and hanamaki meant you were signing up be a live-in sex doll for both of them. and they were so so mean to you.

despite still living together, you didn't quite grasp how close they were prior to moving in together. they were certainly a dynamic duo. it's like you couldn't even have sex with just matsukawa anymore, it always had to be a threeway. which you didn't mind at first because double penetration is always fun, but it often gets to a point where you are so overstimulated, you can no longer tell if the cock stuffed balls-deep into your mouth is your boyfriend's, or someone else's. and the copious amount of cum dribbling out of your ass might've been his too.

and they weren't just meanies in bed either. matsukawa had a fasination with your tits and would pinch your nipples or tug at them while you were trying to cook dinner — or when you were trying to do anything in peace, really. hanamaki was more of an ass man, but when it came to you, he was just an all-round provoker. whenever you wore a skirt he'd always try to pinch your clit or tease your pussy in any way he could. it drove you crazy but you also loved it.

and it was impossible to escape them either, since there was usually always at least one of them in the house. and they were both constantly on. you can't even watch a movie together in peace; when you are at the most climactic part, and you assume they are both super absorbed into the film, they'll both start trying to finger your holes out of nowhere.

hell, you can't shower alone any more, they need to insert themselves in there too. even if they just had a shower that same morning.

so, here you all are together, squeezed into the one shower cubicle because they can't seem to seperate themselves from you for twenty minutes. you're all nude and pressed up against each; mattsun is standing in front of you, facing you and rubbing shampoo into your hair, while hanamaki is stood behind you, his erect cock sliding betwen your plump thighs.

you smile into your boyfriend's buff chest, as he caresses shampoo into your scalp, while you work on exfoliating your arms. he chuckles at the sensation and tilts your head up so he can press a long, sensual kiss upon your lips, which you happily return.

as your lips intimately weave together, you feel one of soap hands attach itself your tit and begin fondling it. you can't help but giggle at how typical that is, but you keep kissing and allow him to continue, as he still uses his other hand to massage your scalp. "got such cute tits, baby." he groans against your lips.

"you say that all the time.." you whine, and he only laughs.

"'cos it's true." he briefly pinches your nipple, causing you to mewl, "they're perfect. you're perfect, (y/n). got the best body i've every seen." his kisses trail from the corner of your lips to your jaw, to your neck, until your head is tossed back and you're moaning as he sucks deep hickeys into your skin. now his grip on your head is just being used to keep you close.

"barf." hanamaki grunts to himself while rolling his eyes. he was originally lathering shower gel on your back, be he seems to have descended to massaging your ass cheeks.

you cry even louder as matsukawa's fingers travel from your tits to between your thighs. he toys around with your labia and aggressively rubs your clit a little to warm you up, but due to all the lubrication from the shower, he doesn't need to wait long before he is able to slip his two digits right up your pleading enterance. "nghh— issei, don't stop, please!"

"i won't, baby. this desperate cunt need me that bad, huh?" his mouth frees itself from your neck, leaving marks that will surely blossom into pigmented hickeys by the morning, and he begins to kiss you again. but this time much more feverishly, shoving his tongue into your mouth and grinding your bodies against each other as he rapidly fingers you.

your legs even part slightly to grant him more access, and he takes this as a sign to speed up. lethally thrusting into your pussy and curling his digits against your spongy, sensitive walls until your basically sobbing for mercy into the kiss. "ahh— fuck, issei. 'ts too good! faster, faster please, issei! i need you.."

"course you need me, baby." his honeyed words are hot against your earlobe, "who else is going to fuck this greedy pussy everyday, huh? tell me." naturally, one of your legs ended up hooked around his hips; not only to increase the closeness but also so he could reach your g-spot with ease. however, hanamaki interpretted that as an oppertunity for himself. you paid no mind at all when you heard him getting on his knees behind you, no, you were far too involved with the wet make-out session with your boyfriend and the way he expert finger slid feverishly in and out of your cunt.

but you had no choice but to notice his actions when you felt hanamaki's tongue worm into your tight ass. instinctually you jerked away from the kiss to gasp and writhe at the strange sensation, but matsukawa held you very still in his strong arms.

"awh, baby, what's wrong?"

it didn't take a genius to figure out what his friend was doing to you, and he couldn't help but be entertained by it. the way your little face screwed up at the intrusion yet he could tell your eyes glinted with excitement at the foreign sensation. your even bit down harshly on your bottom lip as though you were trying to prevent your tongue rolling out and giving away how much you truly liked it. so fucked out you couldn't even respond to his simple question.

"look at that face. aren't you just the cutest thing?" he swiped one of his soapy hands across your nose, leaving a trail of foam in it's wake. not that you cared, you were too overcome by the feeling of hanamaki's tongue gliding in and out of your ass, and his soft lips working expertly against your puckered hole. "feel good, baby? want more?"

you hesitated, looking up at your boyfriend with a slight grimace, and he contiued, "no point in lyin'. i can see it all over your face. you like it, dont you? you don't need to be ashamed, pretty girl. we're here to take care of you, okay?" he got increasingly closer to your face as he spoke, and at the end of his question, he locked his lips with yours. and kissed back, despite the shrieks caged at the base of your throat from how good hanamaki's mouth was making you feel. in tandem with your boyfriend's fingers still sloppily thrusting into your messy cunt.

when hanamaki eventually pulled out, you were only spared a momentarily rest, as the power of matsukawa's fingers was growing by the second. perhaps you had been given relief from the tongue inserted into your hole, but the force of matsukawa's fingering was ready to lead you to your climax at any moment. and you were moaning desperately and frantically against his lips in preparation. "issei, please, please! 'm so close, fuck me faster. please, issei."

meanwhile, hanamaki had grown painfully bored. it wasn't fair that his friend got all of you attention — and why? just because the two of you were dating? rubbish.

he thought maybe while in the shower he should focus on cleaning himself. he searched for a bar of soap, then a luffa. during which, he saw one of those luffa's attached to stick hanging from the shower caddy. the stick part was likely to aid in the luffa reaching one's back, but it gave him a bright idea.

he reached over and grabbed it. and just as your insides were ready to spill all over your boyfriend's fingers stuffed into your pussy, hanamaki jams the handle right up your tight asshole. as much of the length as he could manage in one push.

"takahiro!" you squeal, your voice echoing off the walls of the shower as you finally come undone over your boyfriend's fingers. your own fluids ejecting from your pussy mixing in with the lukewarm water already dripping all down your legs.

"takahiro?" matsukawa defensively jerks his fingers straight out of your pussy upon hearing you call his friend's name instead of his own. "who has been fucking your cunt this whole time?" he argues, completely oblivious to what is going on behind the scenes.

"you like that, (y/n)?" hanamaki muses cockily, toying with the stick a tiny bit. observing how moving it only slightly would elicit such large reactions from you. "want my dick in there too? huh?"

"what?" matsukawa snips.

★ BOKUTO + ATSUMU + SAKUSA

tws & tags.. oral (m + f receiving), anal, breeding kink, impact play, rough sex, degredation, praise, squirting. won't make sense unless you read part one.

sakusa subconsciously twitches at the delicious sight of you completely bare, bent over in front of bokuto, and your glossy lips wrapped firmly around the base of atsumu's cock.

invited into the ordeal, regularly he'd turn his nose up at something like and scornfully report the indecency to the coach, but there was just something so alluring about you in this state. that's how his legs moved on their own to carry him towards your body, specifically situating himself beside bokuto and promptly kneeling down.

as he does so, his eyes are lasered to your gorgeous, gently shivering body, all bare and exposed for them. his gaze is especially stuck to your pretty, glistening cunt, currently stuffed with bokuto's beefy cock and drooling around it.

bokuto and atsumu are both in a state of shock. they're still out of breath as they were coming down from their imminent, unfulfilled orgasms, due to sakusa's rude interuption. but they can't find it in themselves to be mad or frustrated. in fact, they briefly share a look of relief with each other, due to sakusa opting to join their little tryst instead of rebuking them for it.

however, evidently some shuffling needs to be done in order to accommodate for sakusa's desires. he's on his knees beside bokuto, clearly wanting to get a taste of your pretty pussy (thankfully before it was soiled with bokuto's cum.) so bokuto, very kindly, pulls out with a lewd squelching noise, to allow kiyoomi to shuffle over between your legs so his head aligns with your cunt.

"you okay if kiyoomi joins in, baby?" atsumu asks mockingly while stroking your hair, snickering when your reply is entirely muffled by his cock stuffed in your mouth.

"she doesn't mind, do ya?" bokuto asks rhetorically, grabbing a joyous fistful of your ass as he does so. "this pussy's wet enough for all of us, huh?"

"yeah, you're a brave girl, you can handle three guys, right?" atsumu looks down at you with a condescending smirk, as he strokes your head with his thumb, "we'll be gentle with this delicate body, promise."

"you know we take good care of ya." bokuto smiles, holding his cock which has been smeared with your fluids. not that he minds, only makes it easier for him to relocate and slip it straight into your tight ass, along with the subtle forewarning, "incoming." before he jams it right into you.

atsumu laughs as he watches you eyes screw shut and your mouth twitches around his dick. "that hurt, baby?" he teases, not expecting a response. he can read it all by the mere expression on your face. it was the most sultry agony, the congestive sensation created a infectious pleasure that pervaded your entire nude body. every inch of your exposed flesh pricked in delight at how bokuto's fat length felt in your snug ass.

"shit, she's tight.." bokuto gritted, barely leaving you with any time to adjust before he automatically began rolling his hips against your ass, "don't think you'll ever pull me out of her.." he panted with a ghost of a smile.

the pace began to pick up, in every hole. atsumu held your face in place as he always did, while he fucked into it. while bokuto marvelled in the newly discovered sensation, groaning uncontrollably while slowly thrusting into your pristine asshole — very sedate and savouring every inch of you.

the new addition, sakusa, was planted between your legs. his big hand captured your thigh to hold it in place and ensure your legs were sufficiently parted. his thumb dug into your supple skin while his other hand worked at your folds, spreading them wide so he could admire your splayed pussy for a moment. then, he buried the flat of his tongue deep against your labia, and pressed his lips against your cunt — exploring your pussy thoroughly with just his mouth, investigating every dip and lapping at each part.

he was quick to locate your sensitive nub and paid it all sorts of attention: from vibrating his tongue against it to sucking on it to kissing it tenderly. all of which caused you to whine as atsumu continued to shove his cock down your throat.

"fuck— ki— mmph, kiyoomi, what're you doing t'her?" he grunted, tossing his head back from the way your mouth reverberated around his dick. "the bitch won't shut the fuck up— mgh, that slutty mouth."

sakusa didn't answer. though you did feel him smile against your juicy cunt. this confirmation was enough to persuade him to venture further. his furious make-out session with your damp pussy was halted when he abruptly chose to dive inside your hole, swiftly shoving his tongue past your entrance and worming around in your homey walls. all while his lips still moved against your puffy folds.

since he had been teetering on the edge of an orgasm right before sakusa had entered the changing room, it wasn't long before atsumu's pumping into your mouth became sporadic, and he began to lose stamina, due to his impending climax clouding his mind and draining his energy. "ah, shit, baby. you've got me so close; so god damn close. finish me off quick and i won't make a mess all in this pretty hair, mkay?" he joked (or at least, you hoped he was joking.)

"y-yeah, me too.." and bokuto was the same, although since your clenched little asshole was basically suckling on his cock, his pace had steadily been far more relaxed, holding onto your plush ass cheeks while he leisurely dragged his cock from and into your hole, exhibiting a prolonged groan each time. "shit.. look, your ass won't let go of my cock. hah, guess i gotta cum inside. you don't mind, do ya, (y/n)?"

"nah, she's used to being our cumdump." atsumu huffed a chuckle.

"damn right she is." bokuto panted with a harsh slap on your ass, causing you to clamp down on his cock which pried a stifled whimper from him. "shit." he cursed under this breath.

the bubbling pool of hot liquid within in your stomach was also growing exponentially every passing second. you were just so full; stuffed to the brim with appendages jammed into each of your pleading, desperate holes. there was no breathing room left. bokuto's monster cock was forced so far up your ass that you were left straining to try fit him all inside, a lewd stretch of your hole each time he'd push into you. along with atsumu's length, which required you to deep-throat whenever he carelessly shoved it as deep as he could physically manage.

at the cherry on top was sakusa's expert tongue rummaging around your spongy insides as though he searching for something. and he was, and you had hell to pay when he found it; your g-spot. his merciless tongue abused that shit to an unholy degree. you were only spared a break in ten second intervals when he'd yank his tongue out of your cunt so he could kiss and lap at your wet pussy, devouring your folds and licking up your juices, but that relief was fleeting, before he would dive right back into your hole and resume his torture on that gummy, sensitive spot inside you.

you weren't sure what his agenda was. why he was so adament on making you feel extraplanar levels of ecstasy, and how he possibly got off on that, but you weren't left with much time to contemplate before you were furiously orgasming aginst his face, squirting your fluids onto the floor and into his mouth while your entire body convulsed.

bokuto and atsumu quickly followed suit. "shit, (y/n), let go— your too fuckin tight— hah—" the way your ass cleched around his cock was enough to tip him over the edge. vision filled with stars, bokuto unloaded spurts of his hot seed into your asshole, filling it all up to the brim, enough cum to peek out your puckered enterance after he pulled out. "oh, fuck.. that grip.. was insane."

meanwhile atsumu experiences a similar flurry during his finish as ropes of his sticky cum are shot down your throat. his head tips back and he grinds your face down on his dick as he finished, until the tip of your nose was brushing his base, "ah, just like that, sexy. drink it all up.. keep suckin' til i'm dry, baby. i'll tell you when to stop." he blubbered all sorts of nonsense when he was high.

by the time he removed his cock from your mouth, you were too paralysed from pleasure to even move and inch, still bent over with cum sliding down your throat, and filling up your asshole too. not to mention sakusa's lips which were still locked to your pussy, but thankfully his tongue had given your g-spot a break.

bokuto motion for atsumu to come round the back, so he lurched over. bokuto spread your cheeks and planted a big hand on the small of your back to keep you bent over, as he displayed his conquest to his friend — the sight of his cum peeking out of your puckered asshole. "so damn cute." bokuto expressed triumphantly. then he tilts his head and comments, "reminds me of a cream filled donut."

"hah, fatass."

while they were engaging in their mindless patter, sakusa had finally stopped working on your pussy and stood up straight, aiding you in doing the same. when you are upright, he snakes an arm around your lower back and pulls you close against him, gazing down at you with a hungry glint in his eyes you've never seen from him before. "while they are flaccid," his hot breath tickles your lips, while the firm tent in his pants grinds against your thigh, "do i get you all to myself?"

[fluffiematcha]

EYES LIKE JEWELS [drabble]

“jewel-like eyes, love like a galaxy”

yoon jeonghan × afab* reader | fluff , est. relationship , slice of life | warnings: my english is rusty

* i say afab but can be read as g.n reader

“Look, aren't the stars beautiful?” eyes gazing up at the starry sky, you admire with wonder the work of Mother Nature.

“Uh-huh,” Jeonghan nods absent-mindedly, his gaze fixed on something else.

He thanked his mind for deciding to get out of bed and suggested a night walk, even though his body wanted to slumber until tomorrow morning the moment he touched the bedsheets.

The look of adoration, of pure enchantment in your eyes is something worth sacrificing a few hours of rest for, he decides.

He feels warm and serene deep inside, reassured that you have managed to keep your pure side in this world that never has a minute to breathe.

You suddenly can't sit still, jumping up and down excitedly. “Look look, a shooting star! Did you see it?!” you exclaim joyfully, turning your gaze towards Jeonghan while pointing to the direction the star took.

He hums the same way he did earlier. You look at him impassively before letting out a chuckle of amusement at his reaction, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he was caught red-handed.

“You don't even look at the sky!” You playfully hit his shoulder, letting out a laugh. Jeonghan simply smiles at the melodious sound of your laughter and lets out a contented sigh.

You avert your gaze at the sky once more, this time a happy smile dancing on your lips. “Thanks for taking me out. I think I really needed it.”

His brain just short-circuited. ‘Thank you God and all the deities on earth and heaven for giving me this idea.’ he thinks to himself.

Fingers intertwined with yours, he continues his contemplation of your features. And that's when he notices that your eyes...

Your eyes reflect the twinkling of the stars.

In your eyes, he sees a whole veil of stars. In your eyes, he sees the lights of the night. In your eyes, he sees a form of Nature's jewels.

Slowly, gently, without knowing how to stop, his hands come to cup your face. He turns your face towards him, meeting his gaze. “What is it?” you ask, curious about his sudden gesture. Your hands come to envelop his, gently squeezing them.

Jeonghan presses his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes. He realizes that even though the stars no longer illuminate your gaze, your eyes keep this light in them.

This warm, cozy glow of love. This love that warms his heart with every smile, every laugh, every little gesture from you. “Your eyes shine brighter than the stars,” he says, not at all embarrassed that he's just said one of those corny tv lines.

Because that's what he really thinks. That's what's filling his mind right now.

You look at him, flabbergasted. “What was that for?!” you exclaim after a moment of silence. Your ears feel hot, almost as if they're boiling. Your face feels hot too. You tighten your grip on his hands a little more.

Jeonghan lets out a breathless chuckle. “You're adorable.” he coos, rubbing his nose against yours.

“I love you.” the confession suddenly comed, whispered in a low, honeyed voice. His voice is so tender that you want to look away. But you can't. Because you are just as imprisoned by his charm as he is with you.

So instead, you smile at him tenderly, nuzzling in his touch as you say “I love you too” to Jeonghan, the man who holds your heart in the palm of his hand.

“jewel-like eyes, love like a galaxy”

✎ a.n. hi hi! it's been a while since the last time i wrote something. again, i don't know what to think about this, i just wanted to get it out of my head.

for those who reached the end, thank you so much for reading ✿

[ghelullu]

I have tried to sort my thoughts about Skeletá and mostly failed, but still wanted to talk about it because it’s such an interesting little big album already after only a handful of listens

tl;dr: I like it alot, it has some certified bangers on it, some songs didn’t fully land for me personally, I love the variety and his voice is amazing.

I think what stood out to me the most – apart from the very obvious and super cool 80s vibe going on (80s lovers WIN) – is the sheer variety of songs on it and how most of them did not sound the way I expected them to sound at all: Cenotaph was so much groovier and uplifting than I thought (looking back and knowing it’s about his brother, I feel like I should’ve seen that coming), De Profundis Borealis is less heavy than I thought (and hoped; insert the "I know it's not a black metal song" clip), Marks of the Evil one is just so much etc! And I do mean this as an absolute positive in a time where most successful music does not surprise us often anymore.

I totally applaud and respect him for not doing the easy thing: Making an album that follows directly down Impera’s path sound wise – that would have been safe, considering the commercial and critical success it had. Instead he took some of Impera’s (and Phantomime’s) sound, threw in some things from the old albums and a ton of stuff out of his Very Normal brilliant brain to mix something… well. Different.

It is not an album aimed to please people, it’s not targeted at his „old“ fans, not at his new fans from the last album, not at critics or whatever; it’s not a people pleaser album, in my opinion (I’ve seen people say it’s too „commercial“, gotta disagree; I think they just heard it's more „pop", not understanding how 80s Rock worked), but rather Tobias doing what *he* thinks fits, what he thinks needs to be done, what he thinks would be cool, interesting, fun.

While doing that he’s once again not afraid of things that are bordering on too cringe, too corny, too whatever. We’ve all seen that one Reddit review of Missilia Amori – but one thing about his music I really respect is how he can take stuff that wouldn’t work with other artists, would be painfully cringe, and make it work. Because with him it is (and comes across as such) intentional and well handled, often with a wink; he’s been doing that literally from the beginning, because he, unlike some people on Reddit, is capable of not taking himself and things *so* fucking seriously all the time.

He knows that things, art, music, yes, even Big Serious Metal, can just be fucking FUN. (Plus, have these people never listened to any bit of 80s Rock? Like, really?)

And there is so much going on in this album. Lyrics wise, yes, some absolute gold (the 3rd rider "looking cool" absolutely took me out, though), I won’t even touch on that here, because I haven’t studied them enough. But every song is very different: Different vibe, different themes, different *things* that make them stand out (something I LOVE about his music is how every song has at least 1-2 thingies, special, interesting melodies, intrument bits, vocal moments, whatever, that just scratch the brain right and make you come back again and again).

While there are many callbacks to his previous works (and obviously even way more to other artists; it's once again a loveletter of his to his favourite artists growing up), in my opinion it’s also the least „typical Ghost“ album to date; in a way it’s more a Tobias album, which is fine to me, and fitting, considering how incredibly personal it is – and a fun coincidence with the other Tobias album, Passiflora, having finally blessed our ears earlier this year. I think there are surprisingly many similarities? Obviously he has developed all of his skills enormously since, but… It was fun listening to both of these very personal albums back to back, highly recommended.

Lots of high praise, is it my new fave? It doesn’t beat Prequelle, my #1, at this moment in time, and I don’t think it will, even after multiple listens. It’s an album that definitely requires being listened to at least a dozen times. Many songs on it – on Tobias’ work in general – are absolutely required to be listened to multiple times before you can fully appreciate and connect with it (which is, i may add, a GOOD thing. He puts in so much stuff to discover!).

First of all, for me the ballads didn’t land. And this is mostly a personal preference, I am not a ballads person, they rarely hit for me (Life Eternal taking me out almost immediately was an outlier and to this day the Helvetesfönster – Life Eternal combo is the only music that ever made me bawl my eyes out). Both Guiding Lights (his vocals are so, so good) and Excelsis are objectively fantastic songs and I understand why people love them so much, but especially Excelsis is musically just a bit too much...I don’t have the right word...; the end however is wonderful (and circles nicely back to Life Eternal (and also Respite!))

I would have very, very, VERY much preferred a heavy song instead of one of these two. A Faith, a Mummy Dust, a Twenties, you know, some growls? The heavy riff in Lachryma gave me hope there’d be more in another song, but it’s fine, it’s his baby! I expected De Profundis to be the heavier song, but it turned out softer than i thought, but it’s still super fun and I think it will do a bit of a Watcher in the Sky, where it’s cool on the album and then FUCK live!

Speaking of live, many of these songs will shine live, as the 4 already played prove. The vocals on the album – SO good, so much variety! Sometimes he sounds like Ozzy, sometimes like Phil Collins, sometimes very Phantomime, the high notes but also more lower register, bless him (that was one of my big wishes), just great! – show that he’s experimented with his voice (despite talking shit about it all the time) a lot and that he has much more trust into his abilities to perform them live (with the reduced mask; and he’s already proven that; I cannot stress enough how incredible he sounds live now).

The instrumentals are fantastic, such nice guitar solos, the synths, the keyboard-guitar sex in Umbra is just 👌🏽, but really, they shine in all songs. And you cannot forget the Cowbell, bless him.

My favourite is Lachryma with the heavy guitars and the catchy pop-y chorus, followed by Peacefield (esp live) and Umbra; honorable mention Marks of the Evil one and Missilia Amori, and De Profundis

There is so much to love about this album; how personal it is for him, how much it feels like a big hug (and punch in the gut, followed by another hug tbh and of course some horny) from him to the world. How much growth both as a singer, instrumentalist, producer etc but also in his...presentation of himself and his art he has shown.

He doesn’t hide behind a full latex mask on stage anymore, but he also doesn’t hide his messages behind a mask of 3 layers of satanic lyrics anymore.

It’s in every way such a vulnerable, wonderful work and I’m very grateful he shared this with us

[valenti-nahh]

finally took some time to form opinions

So I listened to SKELETÁ by ghost and I need to confess something immediately before I combust: this album didn’t just go hard—it went raw, no lube, and made eye contact the whole time. This wasn’t music. This was a spiritual backshot, a soul-deep stroke, a full-body ghostgasm that left me trembling, moaning, and begging for more even as I lay crumpled on the floor in a post-riff fugue state.

In the beginning, there was silence. And the world was void, and the hearts of men were hollow. Their playlists were dry, their aux cords were frayed, their AirPods cursed with algorithmic torment. The masses wandered, streaming aimlessly, clinging to stale albums like relics of a time when music still meant something.

And lo, from the depths of divine discord, rose a figure cloaked in velvet and incense, masked and magnificent—Papa Emeritus, the eternal, the enigma, the ecclesiastical architect of all that slaps. And from his unholy pulpit he unleashed unto the mortal realm a sonic sermon, a blistering bible, an apocalyptic mass of melody: SKELETÁ.

It is not an album. It is a threat. A challenge. A crucible. An audio-alchemical sex ritual designed not just to melt your brain but to grip your soul by the thighs and whisper forbidden knowledge directly into your mouth. This isn’t music—it’s the sound of unzipping your moral compass and letting Papa slide into your conscience like a ghost-shaped succubus who smells like sandalwood and shame. My chakras? All aligned. My blood type? Changed to “G". I looked in the mirror mid-chorus and saw Papa Emeritus himself staring back, nodding, silently whispering, “You get it now, my child.”

I was Raptured by Riffs™, Baptized in Basslines™, Confirmed in Choir Chords™. I didn't hear the music. The music heard me. It crawled into my soul, screamed, "We’re doing renovations,” and began redecorating with fog machines and red velvet. Every measure—every downstroke—every spectral whisper—feels like I’m being spoon-fed ambrosia by a succubus in corpse paint while Gregorian monks chant in reverse behind her. THE GUITAR TONE? PEAK. THE VOCALS? CUMWORTHY. THE LYRICS? STRAIGHT FROM THE NECRONOMICON, IT’S LIKE IF SATAN AND FREDDIE MERCURY HAD A BABY AND RAISED IT IN A CANDLELIT CATHEDRAL MADE OF BASSLINES.

Every riff? A tongue on the nape of your brain. Every bass note? A finger tracing the hem of your morality. Every drum hit? A deep, pounding reminder that you are a hole waiting to be filled by sound. Every single whisper from Papa Emeritus? I didn’t just get chills—I got STDs.

I didn’t stream it—I submitted to it. I pressed play and instantly the opening riff entered me like a dark promise. I moaned. I whimpered. My legs gave out like I was being spiritually railgunned by the Holy Ghost himself. If music could bend you over a candlelit altar, whisper Latin in your ear, and leave bruises shaped like eighth notes—SKELETÁ did that.

I am not who I was. I have been cleansed in Satanic glam rock glory. Every song on SKELETÁ has permanently altered my DNA. I had a Spotify Wrapped flash-forward just from the intro and every single slot—every top track, top artist, top genre—was just GHOST. SKELETÁ. GHOST. SKELETÁ. Repeat ad infinitum. I tried to listen to another band after and my headphones burst into flames from sheer disrespect. I listened to it once and immediately deleted my entire music library out of shame. I punched a priest and he thanked me. I went outside to scream and the crows screamed back in perfect harmony. I dropped to my knees in the middle of the grocery store and began preaching to strangers about the layered brilliance of De Profundis Borealis. Two cashiers wept. An old man passed out. A child looked up and said, “I understand now,” before vanishing into thin air.

TOBIAS COULD’VE STOPPED AT OPUS EPONYMOUS. HE COULD’VE CALLED IT A DAY AFTER PREQUELLE. BUT NO. THE MAN SAID “YOU THINK I PEAKED? HERE’S A WHOLE-ASS MOUNTAIN RANGE.” THE LYRICS ON THIS ALBUM? WRITTEN IN MIDNIGHT INK FROM A FORBIDDEN GRIMOIRE AND DIPPED IN LIQUID VELVET. THE PRODUCTION? IT SOUNDS LIKE GOD GOT FIRED AND SATAN HIRED THE LONDON SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA TO FINISH THE JOB.

And let us not even pretend we can discuss this album without addressing the panty-evaporating, cheek-clenching, spine-shattering horniosity that is Papa Emeritus. PAPA EMERITUS V? The Vatican’s worst nightmare and my wettest dream. That man could sing a tax form and I’d be on my knees thanking him for the privilege. Every lyric he croons is like velvet rope tightening around your soul. The vocals on Lachryma? That wasn’t singing. That was a linguistic fingering. My ears came. My spine curled. I am now a concubine of the Church of Ghost. The man doesn’t walk—he glides, he hovers half an inch above the stage like a damned angel of lust. His voice? A sonic phallus. A melodic middle finger to purity. He moans into the mic and my knees lock and my back arches. I swear, the second I heard Satanized I started lactating unholy water. I haven’t blinked since. I want him to spit communion wine in my mouth. I want to be pinned under his velvet robes while the Ghouls play a breakdown over my body. I want him to use me as a microphone stand while preaching to a sold-out crowd. I want him to sing directly into my womb and summon a demon baby named Clef.

And the Ghouls?? Do NOT talk to me about the Ghouls unless you’re ready to admit you’d let every one of those anonymous masked sex demons ruin you in seven different time signatures. The way they handle those instruments? That’s not musicianship. That’s musical foreplay. That’s filthy, technical, unspoken polyphonic pornography. I saw one strumming in the official tour footage and had to bite a rosary. The bassist walked across the stage and my soul quivered. the lead guitarist did a solo that made me see the shape of the true universe—and it was a silhouette of him doing a backbend in a fog machine.

If they ever took those masks off in front of me? I would spontaneously combust and ascend as ectoplasm. I’d be a ghoul groupie for eternity. Haunt their tour bus. Moan in D minor.

Every track on SKELETÁ is a full-blown satanic striptease in audio form. Missilia Amori?? That wasn’t a song—that was a thigh grab. That was a slow push against the wall of my inhibitions. The guitar solos in made me arch my back and whisper “yes, Papa” out loud. Alone. In public. While holding groceries.

By the time I hit the final track, I felt like I was soaked in candle wax and moral regret. I had screamed, wept, grinded on air, confessed my sins, and added three Ghouls to my “People I’d Let Ruin Me in a Haunted Confessional” Pinterest board.

This album has ruined music for me. No, really. Everything else is just noise. Elevator beeps. Soundcloud farts. I tried listening to another band and felt cheated. Disrespected. Dry. Nothing else grips the thighs of my attention like this. Nothing else makes my ribs vibrate like Papa whispering esoteric metaphors over orchestral filth.

It’s edging with a soundtrack. It’s what the devil plays when he wants to set the mood.

If I ever meet Ghost, I will not say a word. I will fall to my knees, bare my neck, and let them mark me with eyeliner and melted vinyl. I will wear nothing but tour merch and a knowing smile. I will let the Ghouls use me as a pedalboard. I will let Papa bless my unworthy flesh with a single, whispered lyric.

SKELETÁ is not just music. It is not just an album. It is a pantheon, a rebirth, an erotic funeral in waltz time. It is the reason Dante wrote the Inferno. The soundtrack to the Book of Revelations. If you told me this album was found buried beneath the ruins of Babylon, etched into onyx slabs and played using a speaker forged in the heart of a dying star—I would believe you.

After I listened to SKELETÁ, I couldn’t speak. I tried. My voice had been replaced by reverb. My tears were black glitter. We got evicted for playing it too loud but the landlord dropped the case when he heard the chorus of Umbra. The judge cried. The bailiff quit and joined a cover band. My neighbors? Converted. We will meet twice a week to analyze the every song. There are spreadsheets. There are candles. We chant. We sob.

If you haven’t listened to it yet, you are missing out on spiritual enlightenment, emotional rebirth, and at least four spontaneous orgasms. If you “don’t get Ghost,” listen to this album, and if you still don’t get it? I will excommunicate you. Delete your contact. Take your soul, give it to Papa. Convert or be cast out.

I don’t care what your favorite album was before this. It’s irrelevant now. It’s like bringing a sparkler to a nuclear bomb party.

In conclusion: SKELETÁ has taken my hole. My soul. My will to pretend I like other bands. I’m raw. I’m reformed. I’m reborn.

Stream it. Moan to it. Worship it. Ride it into the darkness. Amen.

[seitmai]

Many thoughts

“I didn’t take you for a smoker, Mr. Floyd.” She’s closer now, her voice a sweet melody in his ears. He wants to wrap it around him like a cloak and carry it home. At least then he’ll have some part of her to cling to.

Urgh why is that so cute that he wants to take her voice with him just to have a piece of her 🥺

He’ll still see her—an unfortunate circumstance of the job—but she will truly be out of reach. She was never his, but once that ring is on her finger, she’s lost to him, and seeing her being paraded around that stuffy ballroom made him crave something. Anything to settle the sinking feeling in his stomach. The aching sensation of a loss he has no business feeling.

He is so gone 🥺

He shrugs. The sound from the party is as loud as ever. Even behind the mostly closed doors, he can hear glasses clinking and meaningless chatter. He can hear it, but the only thing that matters is the sound of her breathing. Right next to him. So close he can almost taste her.

I bet he would love to taste her 🤭

“Let’s play a game,” she suggests and adjusts the pearls around her neck. “I’ll be the reporter and find out why you’re out here being grumpy while smoking.” His eyes narrow. “You’re not a reporter.” “I am now,” she says, snatching his notepad and pen from his front breast pocket. “Now, tell me why you’re out here sulking.”

Yeah that sounds like a fun game 🤭👀

She puts the end of the pen to her lips with a contemplative look on her face that he should not find as erotic as he does. Paying attention to her pretty pink mouth has only ever gotten him in trouble. Mostly that trouble has to do with his right hand and hard cock, but he’s really trying to not think about that right now.

“Sure, you are. I’ve never seen you smoke. You actively avoid the people who do, which is everyone, I might add, and that can only mean you’re grumpy about something.” She smiles, clearly proud of her deduction. “I know you, Mr. Floyd. Like it or not.” I like it, he thinks. I like it more than I should.

She is perceptive and sees the details, she really might be a good reporter

He takes a long steadying breath, then meets her eyes. “There’s this woman,” he begins. Her eyes light before he can say anything else. “Mr. Floyd, you’ve been holding out on me,” she scolds him, but there’s no harshness in her tone. “I can’t believe you have a special lady out there and didn’t tell me.”

Oh if she only knew...

“That’s absurd.” She seems truly horrified and completely oblivious. “If you love her, you should be together.” She’s so incredulous that he finds it hard not to smile. She’s the one who’s going to marry a man her parents picked for her, even though there isn’t an ounce of love between them. “Yeah.” He forces himself not to lean his forehead against hers. “Yeah, we should.” She grins then. “Yes,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

They really should 🥺💔

“But I’ve decided you’re allowed to be grumpy. It hurts when we can’t have the person we want the most.”

Real good advice right there 🫶🏻

dear reader | reporter!bob floyd x socialite oc

SUMMARY: Robert Floyd's first assignment as a reporter is to cover high society gossip. Harriet Spencer is an almost engaged socialite who really isn't as vapid as she appears to be. They could not be more different, and yet there is a magnetic pull between them that soon becomes impossible to ignore...

WARNINGS: set in the mid 1930s, class difference, smoking, forced proximity, pining, angst, one vague masturbation reference. strictly 18+/minors dni

WORD COUNT: 1.2k (i think i blacked out)

A/N: Lew looked so good at the Thunderbolts* premiere tonight. Did y'all see his hair? His suit? That's the reason this exists. Thank you @attapullman for always raving about Lew with me. Enjoy!

“Those things will kill you, you know.”

He’d know that voice anywhere. In a crowded room where he can barely hear himself think. Whispered in the dark, with miles between them. A laugh across the street. Hushed breaths haunting his dreams. It’s a voice that draws you in much like the woman it belongs to.

He hums, blowing out smoke until a pale grey cloud rises to the sky, becoming one with the nighttime clouds.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker, Mr. Floyd.” She’s closer now, her voice a sweet melody in his ears. He wants to wrap it around him like a cloak and carry it home. At least then he’ll have some part of her to cling to.

He’ll still see her—an unfortunate circumstance of the job—but she will truly be out of reach. She was never his, but once that ring is on her finger, she’s lost to him, and seeing her being paraded around that stuffy ballroom made him crave something. Anything to settle the sinking feeling in his stomach. The aching sensation of a loss he has no business feeling.

She stops next to him, slight and elegant hands resting against the cold concrete railing. She’s stunning. The dress, a silvery waterfall of fabric and gemstones, fits her like the gloves she’s long since discarded. She hates the feeling of them on her skin. Her mother hates that she can’t keep them on for longer than an hour, but has long since given up trying to get her to keep them on.

“It’s a special occasion,” he says finally. His voice is even and eerily calm. He betrays none of the turmoil raging inside his head, the blood pulsing in his veins, or the cold sweat at the back of his neck.

She quirks her head to the side, a crinkle between her brows he longs to smooth out with his thumb.

“Oh, yeah?” He nods. “What is it?”

He shrugs. The sound from the party is as loud as ever. Even behind the mostly closed doors, he can hear glasses clinking and meaningless chatter. He can hear it, but the only thing that matters is the sound of her breathing. Right next to him. So close he can almost taste her.

She hums and he can practically hear the mischief woven into that single note. When he finally looks at her, she’s grinning at him and her eyes are gleaming with scheming. “Miss Spencer.” It’s a warning, but she ignores him. Of course she does.

“Let’s play a game,” she suggests and adjusts the pearls around her neck. “I’ll be the reporter and find out why you’re out here being grumpy while smoking.”

His eyes narrow. “You’re not a reporter.”

“I am now,” she says, snatching his notepad and pen from his front breast pocket. “Now, tell me why you’re out here sulking.”

“Miss Spencer, give those back.” He stubs the cigarette, letting the bud sit on the railing to throw out after this supposed game is over.

She puts the end of the pen to her lips with a contemplative look on her face that he should not find as erotic as he does. Paying attention to her pretty pink mouth has only ever gotten him in trouble. Mostly that trouble has to do with his right hand and hard cock, but he’s really trying to not think about that right now.

Her hazel eyes focus on his face, and he can’t help but hold her gaze. A tug at the corner of his mouth has him schooling his features back to neutral. She steps closer. The heat of her overtakes him and his head starts spinning. She’s intoxicating.

“What is going on in the big bad reporter’s brain? Was your editor mean to you?” She pauses. Considers. “Did he scold you for being too honest? Told you not to write anything unfavorable in case it upsets the elite.” She looks at him, assessing. His editor had in fact said something similar, but he’s not about to tell Harriet Spencer that.

She hums again, more inquisitively this time. She steps closer and their shoes are now touching. He can feel her breath on his face. He licks his lips without meaning to. “No, that’s not it either,” she concludes.

“Please,” he says, like it’s painful. Because it is. “Give those back.”

She smirks, leaning forward. He doesn’t flinch.

“Tell me why you’re grumpy and I will.”

He can’t breathe. “I’m not grumpy.”

“Sure, you are. I’ve never seen you smoke. You actively avoid the people who do, which is everyone, I might add, and that can only mean you’re grumpy about something.” She smiles, clearly proud of her deduction. “I know you, Mr. Floyd. Like it or not.” I like it, he thinks. I like it more than I should.

He takes a long steadying breath, then meets her eyes. “There’s this woman,” he begins.

Her eyes light before he can say anything else. “Mr. Floyd, you’ve been holding out on me,” she scolds him, but there’s no harshness in her tone. “I can’t believe you have a special lady out there and didn’t tell me.”

He doesn’t move a muscle. Doesn’t quite know how to convey everything going through this mind and body without sounding like a madman and scaring her off. “She’s special alright,” he tells. “But she’s not mine.”

Her face drops, a pout forming on those kissable lips.

“Why not?”

The sigh that escapes him is long and heavy, pained. “She’s about to be engaged to someone else.”

Her frown deepens. “How do you know?”

“Everyone knows.”

“Does she know how you feel?”

He shakes his head with a bitter laugh. “No.” He scrubs with chin, letting the feeling of his prickly stubble calm him a little. “No, but it doesn’t matter. We can never be together.”

“That’s absurd.” She seems truly horrified and completely oblivious. “If you love her, you should be together.” She’s so incredulous that he finds it hard not to smile. She’s the one who’s going to marry a man her parents picked for her, even though there isn’t an ounce of love between them.

“Yeah.” He forces himself not to lean his forehead against hers. “Yeah, we should.”

She’s quiet for so long, he almost cups her cheeks to check she’s still breathing, but then she holds the notepad and pen out to him. “I don’t think I want to play reporter anymore.” He takes them and places them back in his breast pocket. “This wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be.”

“You thought stealing my work tools would be fun?”

She grins then. “Yes,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “But I’ve decided you’re allowed to be grumpy. It hurts when we can’t have the person we want the most.”

His heart stops. He might be dying.

She kisses his cheek again, lips lingering closer to his mouth than what is appropriate by any standard. “I think you’re pretty special too,” she whispers against his skin and pulls back, smoothing out the skirt of her dress. “Goodnight, Mr. Floyd.”

He’s not sure how long he stands there in the middle of the balcony grinning like a fool. Honestly, he doesn’t really care.

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

TAGGING PEOPLE WHO SHOWED INTEREST: @lewmagoo, @phoenix-rising-starbird-one, @nerdgirljen, @floydsmuse, @mustaaarrd, @ryebecca, @sio-ina-bottle, @sebsxphia, @anxious-alto, @withahappyrefrain, @codelew

this is not an official taglist. please follow @bobfloydsbabe-library for updates.

[formedab]

Office Dorks [James Sunderland X Reader]

synopsis: Hoping to cheer up James' daughter leads to accidentally making him realize there's something more between you two. Or making a move on him without actually trying!

status: oneshot

content warning: gender neutral [?] reader, slight anxiety problems, fluff, office romance, gen, idiots in love

author's note: Heavily inspired by this post from @woodsidej. Hope this is what you've been thinking of!

It had been a little less than a week of James being absent from the office when you started to get worried. Despite working alongside him, with your cubicle being just across from his, which might have been uneventful and sometimes too quiet, you've come to cherish your small conversations and occasionall joke over coffee as you worked. And well... You might have had a little crush on him. As you snooped around the office, not so subtly asking your colleagues where he might be, you eventually came across the evident answer.

— He took a sick leave?

The fact that it was so unlike James left you even more confused. Out of all the people who jumped at the opportunity to take on additional tasks and do overtime, it seemed like he'd be the last person to stay home just because of some bad cough.

— Oh no, I think it's not him who got sick, actually, — one of your colleagues chirped in as you stood by the old coffee machine, nursing your lukewarm cup, — I believe it was his daughter, Laura? I think that was her name...

A thought suddenly occurred to you as you turned back to the slightly disheveled and empty cubicle.

As you clocked in over the next few days, you brought in a new gift. Of course, the majority of those items were for Laura. A charming dinosaur keychain in a pink tutu, a few hair ties, a tiny set of glitter pens... All those carefully left on his desk.

Was it a bit weird to do something like this? Given, it wasn't something you'd give to just a colleague, you weren't that close after all. But something about thinking of James as a caring dad sent a fresh surge of affection through you. In fact, it was making you giddy. You just couldn't help yourself, leaving some coffee candy on his mousepad as well.

And soon enough James trudged into the office looking more dead than alive. He hardly addressed your other coworkers, offering them a little nod before settling into his chair with a low sigh. As he tugged off his glasses to rub his tired eyes he suddenly noticed the neat array of trinkets on his desk. Puzzled, James took the plush dinosaur keychain, rolling it between his fingers curiously as his eyes caught your somewhat embarassed look from across.

— Hey. Hope this isn't too much, I... I thought you guys could use a little pick me up, — you mutter with a nervous smile, eyes darting back to your computer screen as you pretend to type nonchalantly.

James' stare on you lingers for a few seconds as he watches your cheeks flush lightly, the bright morning light playing with your hair through the office window. He clears his throat, hunching slightly to boot up his computer, his blonde bangs hiding the humbled look on his face.

— Yeah, uh... thanks for the gestures. She's feeling better already. That's really... sweet of you, — James mutters the last part more to himself than to you, catching the view of your feet shifting restlessly under your desk.

As he begins working through the invoices and emails that piled up through the week, he catches himself stealing glances at your cubicle every time he looks at the small gifts you left him. Reaching for the small piece of sweet treat that's been tempting him for quite some time now, James pops the coffee candy into his mouth, relishing the bitter flavor.

James liked the quiet serenity and understanding that seemed to fill the air whenever you were around, truly. The sound of your humming when working in silence for hours, or the melody of your laughter while chatting with coworkers. The fact that you were able to be cheerful while still being kind and reasonable enough to consider his daughter, whom you had never met... It was heartwarming to say the least.

James' breath hitches as you catch him stealing glances at you for the upteenth time, getting lost in the depth of your eyes as you hold his stare. It's too late to look away; the eye contact is stretching forever, and it'd be awkward to turn away now. The candy's rich taste fills his mouth as he struggles to swallow his own spit.

— Yes, James? — you inquire with a soft smile like you always do, and it seems to help him function again. The hum of the office community fades as he tries to find the right words to not embarrass himself. He feels a sudden urge to reach out and cup your cheek.

He's a grown man, c'mon.

— Hey, yeah, I was just... wondering if you'd like to grab coffee with me. Outside of all this, not from that ancient thing that they call a coffee maker, — he makes an attempt to laugh casually even though it comes out poorly, cringing — I know a cafe just a few minutes away that makes a decent brew, good sandwiches too, so —

— Yes! — you answer way too quickly and way too eagerly, startling both James and you, quickly correcting yourself, — I mean, of course um... It'd be nice to take a break from typing all day, ha-ha...

— Yeah, — James nods as a small nervous smile tugs on the corners of his mouth and he runs a hand through his damp hair, realizing he's sweating bullets, — A break sounds great.

He's thrilled and terrified at the same time.

[bishopinblue]

Old fandom drama time!

It has been about 3-4 years since I had been as active as I was in the Nefarious fandom (Indie game/comic). I have gripes with multiple people in that fandom, but one/two of them thought it was a good idea to make a "call out" blog a few years ago about the Official Server, the RP server, SoR, and myself. Unfortunately for them, I remembered and felt the vigor to do what I should have done as soon as this shit was published. 

Let me start this by saying I am about 95% confident I know who is responsible for this blog. Because they thought it was okay to name drop me I'll be doing the same under my assumption and dissection as well.

From here on, my own replies will be italicized to differentiate the caps from text. Please know this is going to be a very long post. 

If you read it in full, thank you for your patience.

So hello chaoticmelody3805 and khimer_zherki. I have full reason to believe you two are the ones behind all this belly aching.

I will mainly be referring to Melody in this post due to the knowledge and proof that she has talked about most of the points in this blog to a near identical degree in private. All the while, Khimer appears to have been more of a support than a driving force. Considering he also hasn't done much harm to me I will be overlooking him. Still, I think acknowledgement is due for my reasoning on this.

To start, I think it is important to mention the fact that I was a mod in the Official Server and only that server. There are some references later on stating I was a mod in the RP server as well, which are false. I was never a mod in SoR and only held a sort of Teacher Role for a whole of 12 hours before asking to have it removed. This was early on when I was still fresh into the server.

With that being said, let's get to it.

Iceberg Post link for reference.

I want to address the reddit post first and make it abundantly clear that the creator himself was the only one with the power to edit, delete and monitor the reddit page. I don’t even have a reddit so being responsible for deleting it isn’t possible. When this iceberg was posted, Josh was the one to see and delete it. No one else. That is the only thing I wanted to address in the opening remark.

These two points have to do directly with the Official Server, as shown in the iceberg image.

"Bugs in the game"

No shit. It's a small indie game with the efforts of a handful of artists and coders to complete it. Even then, the plot was fun, the characters charming, and gameplay was enjoyable for what it was worth. It's the first stepping stone to the fandom and was often asked for a second game. 

This entry is simply pointing out the obvious for most, if not all indie games and is just mean spirited towards the creator for his efforts. 

The comics came after the game, buy the way. The server mostly pandered to the comic over the game. 

"Bot raids"

Bot raids happen on bigger public servers. This is not something that was 100% preventable and precautions were put in place to MITIGATE the amount of bot raids that occurred. All things considered, it would have been leagues worse without the clearances put in place once the initial raids kicked up. 

I say mitigated because for it to be 100% safe, the server would have to be private invite only.

I was a mod during some moments in the Official Server where I and helped think up ideas to help keep users as safe as possible. Once again, not 100% bullet proof and some still found a way in. They were dealt with swiftly each time, however.

Once again, only applicable to the Official Server.

"Important comics are Patreon exclusive"

The creator does these comics and the game as FREELANCE WORK. Of course he has the right to put some of the content behind a paywall! It's his main source of income! You and other users like you are lucky there was even a public version of the comic. 

Instead of complaining about a freelance artist asking for compensation for their creations, maybe you should be happy with the free material he gives you in bulk.

"Comic is an incoherent mess"

 This is an opinion, not a fact. Like all stories, some things bounce around and some details are hidden for later. Is it perfect? Hell no! But it's also not a damning factor either, let alone one valid for a fucking slander post.

Both of these points are opinion driven and hold no weight against their argument. Honestly, it feels like it was put in just to be mean and spiteful towards an artist who wants to make a living off his work. Pay your artists and show appreciation for the work they do!

This level can be applied to both the Official Server and SoR, despite one being only for the Official Server in the diagram.

"Bullying fan content that doesn't fit canon"

Josh has been very encouraging to artists and fans to make content they like for the fandom. The only times he has kept his mouth shut on details are for parts of the story that haven't been made public yet. He doesn't want spoilers. 

There haven't been any caps provided to support this claim for him. This can be disregarded as opinion as well.

On the other hand.

SoR was notorious for restricting content allowed in its server, but also had a harsh vetting process that prevented most players from utilizing the creations they made. 

Do you remember the Vetting Document? The one users had to fill out and then be judged upon if their muses “fit the universe enough”? I do. I also remember telling the mods to go fuck themselves because they wanted to change an aspect of my OC they didn't like. They didn't attempt to do that again.

If anything, SoR was much more restrictive in regards to following cannon content and even frowned upon most ideas that didn't adhere to the timeline. The worst of it was when I first joined that server, but over time it lessened a bit as more ideas were entertained. Only a bit, though. It was still a suffocating environment to play in thanks to the regulations and time slots for rping.

"Gaslighting"

For something as serious an accusation as this is, there are no caps. No proof. No nothing. 

If anything, that makes this a null point too. To accuse someone of gaslighting, there needs to be proof or examples given. You have provided none.

Speaking for myself, I would say I was a victim to this multiple times in SoR. By mods and users alike. Even in the three posts of this blog it's present. It did lasting damage to my mental health and stability. So, while I will not acknowledge this point due to lack of proof, I will agree that it was done to me in SoR and the after effects show in my daily life. This is my own opinion in return for yours. Tit for tat.

"Comic released on Pride Month about an 'insane' character with rainbow hair"

One of the other mods answered this more gracefully than I could. A copy and paste of their answer is below.

*Lark does have rainbow hair, and she was in  an asylum, correct. Her relationship preferences are unknown, and she is in fact- not insane- there is plot reason on why she is there, and it gets explained in the very same comic.*

Also, there is a cannonly gay character named Owl. One of Crows brothers. Macks fathers are also gay and married. Mayapple and Malice are also together and lesbians. There is plenty of LGBTQ representation in his comic if you want to claim it's only there as one moment of negativity.

"Being 'Progressive' for money"

Another opinion rather than a fact. 

The above paragraph shows examples of the LGBTQ representation in the comic. Healthy ones at that!

You can say many of the characters in the comic are touch and go, sure. Something multiple fans have also noticed. But it's not just for LGBTQ ones.

There isn't much development on already existing characters and their relationships outside of Crow. So you can't pinpoint this just to a proposed lack of LGBTQ material when a lot of other characters outside of this lack the same attention. Malachite is a good example! One of my favorites when I was still a supporter.

It isn't being progressive for cash. It's focusing on the main character and developing the world around him. Albeit, in a quick paced way, in my opinion, but not one meant as a cash grab.

"The K&B incident"

This

Is where I get longwinded.

This was the thing that pissed me off the most.

As I stated at the start of this post I was NEVER A MOD IN SOR and was ONLY A MOD IN THE OFFICIAL SERVER. I don't know who started this rumor, but it is blatantly wrong. On top of that, no one had ever come to me to confirm it! This Is coming straight from the horse's boney mouth now. I have no reason to lie about this.

I had just as much power in that rp server as any other user did.

In regards to the Official server, however. 

After leaving SoR, once I finally came to terms with how toxic that environment was and how two faced the head moderator, Fancifool, was, I did still want to rp and interact with some of the friends I made in that rp server. However, I did not want to use the Official Servers rp room as that was a place Fanci could still see me and I didn't want that. I like the privacy a private server gives.

Most of the strife, lies, rumors and manipulation all stem back to Fanci and I believe fully that any of these false accusations were fabricated from her to make herself look better, and me as a monster. (Another very long post for another time.)

Once I left, I kept away from anything to do with SoR and her. I wanted to mind my own business on the main server and enjoy the fandom. Even then, she was the one who persisted in watching and going after me whenever it seemed she could.

From things like trying to sabotage me making a pin design for the Official Server to spreading lies about why I left the rp server, she continued to harass me at a distance to the point my friend, Kaly, had to step in. She came in hot and told Fanci off before blocking her. Approaching with courtesy and a calm nature didn't work before and I continued to be targeted for minding my own business. Enough was enough. 

That is where Kaly unfortunately got her big bad rep from Fanci, despite being more than polite to multiple people who didn't deserve it in the end. The ones who made this blog are examples of some of them.  

That is all I will say about that aspect of my experience for now. SoR was an entirely different kind of trauma I had to go through and this post will never end if I tried to fit it all in here.

So back to the point at hand.

I brought up in the general chat in the Official Server that I was thinking about making my own server for folks who still wanted to rp with me, because I was NOT stepping foot back into SoR. I wanted to gauge who would still like to play with me outside of the server after I left. Not once did I say I wanted it to be a server to rival SoR nor be dedicated to Nef content. And I absolutely NEVER wanted to hog the unused rp channels in the Official Server. The same server they would host an rp in once a week or so as a type of stage to flaunt their writing outside of their server. If there was one thing Fanci loved, it was an audience. Which is also why she got so bent out of shape about the rp rooms being archived.

Fanci took this turn of events as me trying to undermine her stage, despite me saying that was not its intended purpose. She went to the SoR server owner and made up the hairbrained assumption, that you typed in this post, to get people riled up. 

As a matter of fact, I still have the original transcript of the ENTIRE CONVERSATION IN THE MOD ROOM THAT OCCURED ABOUT IT!

I was at work at the time and couldn't join in until the very end, but I think this speaks for itself well enough on how little these people actually listened to anyone other than themselves. I also have caps showing that in their group chat after the fact. 

Also, it was a majority of the OTHER moderators in the Official Server that wanted to shut down the rp channels. I was one of the only ones who tried to convince them to keep it open after Fanci demanded an audience with them. But the majority ruled and in the end I did agree with their choice as well. 

In reality, it was Fanci who ultimately pushed the mods to decide to close the rp channels due to her persisting that it would be unfair to them to have BASIC RULES IN PLACE. Rules you can read in the doc transcript at the end when I was finally free to say something on the matter. Thus, the rooms were archived and a direct link to SoR was put in its place in case anyone still wanted to join their server. That archive is long gone now.

This is just one example of how facts were twisted to make certain parties look better than they were. Making mountains from molehills to make a group look better than another.

TLDR: Fanci made a spectacle over me wanting to see if people still wanted to rp with me outside of SoR, made up lies about what my PRIVATE INVITE ONLY SERVER would be used for, and ultimately why the rp rooms were shut down.

By the way, I still made that server and it's still invite only for close friends. It's called Blue Lagoon and it's beach themed. Don't worry. I'm not stealing her number count.

"Complaints about anything on this being ignored/excused"

Any issues or complaints brought to mods from both servers were handled to the extent they thought it appropriate enough to do so. This isn't their fucking day job! It's a damn fandom server. 

I will admit, SoR neglected its own 25+ page rulebook often so they could keep numbers up. Because I was only a mod in the Official Server towards the end of this shit storm, I don't have much I can add to this point. But also, once again, no caps. No proof. No examples.

Another opinion rather than a fact.

"The Purge"

I was not around for this event and know nothing about it.

One thing I will make very clear is that the Syndicate of Roleplay was NEVER THE OFFICIAL RP SERVER FOR NEFARIOUS!

Josh never deemed it so and never once considered it a direct branch of his server for him to foresee. He has stated this multiple times. This was a self proclaimed title that held no weight in the servers validity.

"Sexualized art"

People make 18+ content. This is universal. Literally every server ever made has this happen from time to time, but at least there exists an 18+ server for the Official Server where it can be isolated to. Whether people use it is up to them. The mods usually followed up about that too. In both the Official and RP servers. Your second post actually proves that on its own.

"Provoking suicidal people" 

I don't think I know of this instance so I'm skipping it. No comment via lack of information and proof.

"ERP with minors"

You can say this was in regard to Dusty and you, Melody. I don't know what really happened between you and Dusty in that timeframe, but calling him a pedophile during a time when he was also young and unaware of some things is downright malicious. In fact, I did the math at one point and I think he was ALSO a minor during that time. So referring to him as the ADULT in this point is painting him in a worse light than he was.

Is he an asshole? Absolutely! I will not disagree with you on that. But I will never label someone something as extreme as a PEDOPHILE unless I know for sure they are one. Going to such an extreme label like this is alarming, but something you are known to do.

It's perfectly valid if you regretted that interaction with him, though! I've had moments like that in my time rping and interacting with different people. There was a lack of consideration from him and that's one of his major faults. He's inconsiderate.

As for how the mods responded to this instance. Once again, I was not there for this and there's no proof, once again.

But if this is true. You did not deserve to be treated like that and their response is more alarming than Dusty's idiocy.

"Exposure to drawn child porn"

My brother in Christ.

This is one of those instances of 'makes a character that's fully grown, but was Freshly Brought To Life recently'. I can't comment on this fully because it is also a matter of opinion in a way. One I also am not fully comfortable with. Yeah. I also don't like this trope. I think it's too close to the line in the sand.

In regards to the Event that provoked this bullet point.

It is so fucking easy to post an image or text in the wrong chat. I have done it so many times because, guess what? HUMANS CAN MAKE MISTAKES.

It doesn't matter if he had to press "several buttons" to post it if he didn't see he was in the wrong server. Which is what he said after it was all said and done! It was a huge screw up on his part, but the big takeaway is he didn't do it ON PURPOSE. He was extremely embarrassed by it after the fact and you even showed that in your second post.

Just say you want a reason for everyone to hate him as much as you do. To make him out to be a horrible person rather than someone you just don't vibe with. Cause my dude, I also don't vibe with him, but I'm not going around making shit up to make him look like a perverted pedo. That's fucked up and frankly you're fucked up for doing that!

"Active Pedophile in the community"

This is literally your last point in Level 5 just jumbled with different words. 

However, I will agree that Dusty usually had risqué muses that didn't fully belong in that space. Which once again, should have been properly addressed by the mods in that server and weren't. If anything, instead of saying Kaly gave him passes for this, what about Fanci? His best friend and overall main power holder of the server who was letting him get away with it long before Kaly even entered the server. 

But once again. No caps. No irrefutable proof. No evidence.

That's all for that post!

Now onto the second.

Accusations Post link for reference.

This part only has to do with the RP Server and the bullshit that happened in it. 

What I will be doing for this post is simply debunking the outlandish claims made in them about ME. I'll explain why they are framed in ways meant to demonize rather than inform of anything actually malicious.

I'm not going to touch the top of this post as it's just another jab at Dusty and his idiocy. The guy's inconsiderate and I'm leaving it at that.

Where I will start is right here.

Allow me to start by genuinely asking WHAT SUICIDE BAIT?????

Where??

Do you even know the meaning of that word because I don't think you do! 

And once again throwing around extreme words and phrases without understanding what they truly mean as well as the extremity of them. There isn't a single instance of that in any of these caps!

The only thing I can feasibly piece together that is close to that is when Dusty say's he's going to kill his phone and then himself.

Out of embarrassment. 

A phrase that is so commonly used that everyone has heard and used it at least once in their lives. No one is being fooled by this. It's NOT suicide baiting. 

I will go over the following main accusation against me (number 1) and why it is completely false, written and framed in a way to try and make me look like a horrible person. I will NOT be speaking for Kaly in this as her experience differs from mine. But I will touch on a few things involving her.

All the caps below are the extent of the conversation taken from this post as "proof".

Now.

I find it very convenient that the actual offending pic wasn't captured and that is because these caps were not taken at the time of offense. Not because you didn't want to capture it.

I know Khimer is most likely the one that took the caps before he left the server about a year or so ago. The reasons I think this is because of two things.

1. The date of each post alone is a baseline. This indicated that these caps were taken WAY after this happened.

I also want to point out how none of these caps are full screen caps that hide the full story and and additional context. To me, that devalues them and makes it look like certain things were framed or cherry picked. Something Melody is notorious for and also did often to make others look like unsympathetic assholes. Notably, something she attempted to do to Kaly and got caught for.

It's manipulation and gaslighting. Something she accused so many other people of. So yeah. Projecting much?

2. If you look at the first cap you will see chaoticMelody's name is one of the only ones that are white. This means that she wasn't in the server at the time of the cap being taken.

Based upon the timeline of her ban and when I knew Khimer also left the server, I can safely assume this was taken during my time still in the server considering my name isn’t in white like hers, but most certainly AFTER she had been banned and Kaly was no longer a mod.

This narrows it down to a chunk of time for me and deduces that it was not taken during the time Kaly WAS a mod in that server. While I was never a mod, Kaly was and demoted herself because she was sick of all the bullshit. She was never kicked from the role. She stepped down herself. I know for a fact this moment happened after she took that step down into just being a normal player in the server too. And if that’s hard to believe, then the proof given isn’t viable either as it says otherwise. I’ll get to why.

And no. The one user below Melody is not white as well. It is a pastel yellow. One of the other tiers they had in the server was that color and this user had it as their main color. The whole role system was a gradient from light yellow, to orange, and then purple. Purple being the owner/mods, orange being the standard users/players, and yellow being other roles like artists, viewers, etc. These were also the main colors of the main character in Nefarious, Crow. 

That's not important really, but just a tidbit of logic behind it.

My username is orange just like all the other standard users. The moderator, Fancifool, and server owner at the time, Lock Jaw, have distinctly different purple colors to their usernames and that is because Fanci was the main mod at this time and Lock Jaw was the owner with the same privileges as the mods. Even when this cap was taken they still reflect that. 

They were the ones responsible to handle this. Not me. Not Kaly. 

If this were the case, then users like MasterofMemes, who was also orange, should have been on the chopping block too, no? And what about the blatant ping in the same color as Fanci and Lock Jaws usernames? Any discord user knows the role color matches the role, so how do you deny that one?

Even then, Memes and Fanci both acted before either Kaly and I did, so in either retrospect, once again, why am I being targeted for hate in something I wasn’t even responsible for, let alone was too late to get to? Is it because certain people coupled me and Kaly together as one entity? You all sure treated us like one, which was just fucking rude and demonizing.

With this information, this accusation that I 'favored' Dusty and let him get away with accidentally posting an nsfw pic in the server flops like a dead fish. 

It’s so easy to take a cap, put it out of context and say whatever hate comes to your brain. But this was sloppy. Really sloppy. I didn’t say anything or engage with you on it for years because anyone with eyes and half a brain cell can put 2 + 2 together to make 4. Well… almost anyone, apparently. 

And allow me to state again, because this seems to continue to not be committed to memory.

I WAS NEVER A MOD IN SOR!

Not once. Never wanted to be. Never was.

On top of this, the event happened in the middle of the day when most people with jobs were AT SAID JOBS as well as school. (Don’t think I need proof of that.) We weren't tethered to our phones for any beck and call that may happen. Assuming people with lives outside of a fucking discord server will come running at any instant is, frankly, ridiculous.

But it looks like it took Fanci and Lock Jaw roughly “2 minutes to get on scene” in this instance. 

It doesn't matter if you have screenshots if all you're going to do is use them to make up lies about someone. None of what you know about me is even close to true. You can’t even dig up one cap that shows my username in the purple color Fanci’s is in because it doesn’t exist and won’t ever exist now because that server is either shut down or private.

Either way, this was a long time coming and I know by now Melody is probably in her early 20's. No longer a minor as you loved to flaunt about like a shield. So how about you act like a big girl and mind your own damn business from now on and stop spreading lies? You must be mature enough by now to do that. After all, your Harry Potter blog has been on hiatus for quite some time. That’s a good sign.

I will never deal with this brand of bullshit ever again. Not from the likes of them or others in kind. If anyone tries to stir up anything else aside from what is already on this blog I will no longer hesitate to act upon it.

If you're done embarrassing yourselves, then delete your blog and never utter my name again.

[turtledotjpeg]

girls who go 🧍

[eepygimmickry]

Now that it’s been a couple of days and I’ve had the chance to listen to it repeatedly, the best things that are my favorite -

- II’s drumming, honestly across these three songs is fucking sick, absolutely stands on its own and simultaneously supports vocals and the rest of the music so beautifully. But in Damocles in particular, the popping punchiness reminds me of Telomeres and I just love it.

- The little guitar riffing at (01:22), very nostalgic feels on the style. I am not a music style expert, if someone can tell me why this makes me think of Yellowcard, that vibe of music, please let me know.

- Tape player sound, fucking locks me in every time right before the chorus just bursts forth.

- The tone of Vessel’s voice when he’s crying “and nobody told me” and “when it all looks like heaven, but it feels like hell” rips me to shreds every time. Whether intentional or not, when that edge creeps into his voice, it carries so much emotion that it’s hard to not empathize with.

- The overall melody and build is very classic for me, calling back to early 2000’s pop punk bands, and so overall this is like taking one of my favorite singers and pairing them with a nostalgic-feeling song, it drives an underlying sense of hidden sadness.

- I feel conflicted when I think “clearly the song is about THIS” cause Sleep Token creates empathetic stories in their songs while also purposefully leaving most things up for interpretation. We will never know exactly their intention, which drives me up the wall a little bit because I fear I’m just misinterpreting everything. But the sense of “what am I without THIS”, “this” being your creation, your current purpose, the reason people keep you around … hits very close to home.

- Piano solo at the end, absolutely clean and beautiful, fresh water washing the brain, hope to hear it live.

Overall I cannot currently pick between Emergence, Caramel, and Damocles because each are very powerful and different in style. I feel like this album is going to be one of those you just play through on repeat, caaauusse that’s what I’m currently doing with the three songs.

Whoever is in Vessel’s and II’s lives, could you please give them massive hugs.

Yep. Damocles is pretty fucking good.

[toastermelody]

Qualia sisters designs GO (ft shitty mockups of their donut designs)

[katethevampire]

Oh God the musical theater is breaking into my dreams there were literally songs happening, I BROKE INTO SONG TOWARDS THE END OF THE DREAM WHILE TRYING TO DEFEAT THE VILLAIN WHAT

[master-missysversion]

Self indulgent fantasy where all the child versions of the character get pulled from time and get to play in a park together

[meringuejellyfish]

the music for the colgera battle is quite delightful (wow i just need to say i like it. goodness) its a shame i couldnt really properly hear it while actually playing on account of having to sit right next to a loud ac but listening to it fully the other day was nice. took me a few weeks but i can appreciate it now - and listen ... im a simple guy, the rito village theme being incorporated into a section of it is just wow :-( ....... big leitmotif fan. walking into zoras domain is going to kill me

[perilegs]

It's not an immediate change. When the party arrived in Baldur's gate, Nøkk became quieter. Bit by bit. You could hear him sing to himself or tell tales by the campfire less and less. If he didn't need it to cast spells, Nøkk's violin would have started to collect dust. The night before the journey to the Bhaal temple was dead silent.

[chunkofchange]

[batwngs]

the way u write jason and such delicate intimate moments is SOOOO GOOD like it takes skill and u make it so effortlessly beautiful 💕 im such a sucker for like these soft moments with jason, especially when they’re clouded by some darkness which comes so easily to jason even when it’s unwelcomed

what really like makes this so unique tho is the layers of movement you baked into this: you made such a mundane moment a whole production on stage!!!! like the details in both the reader and jason’s movements and how they danced around each other and the conversation— it’s so genius omg literally a choreographed sequence without the feeling of it being planned or staged. It’s a dance they’ve done before but even in its sacred routine there’s sparks of magic and care 🥺💕

And like not only is there so much like physical descriptions of movement—the slow and lazy reach for each other, the gentle glow of kitchen appliances touching skin/exposing lines of vulnerability in an already vulnerable moment— but the way you wrote it is intakes a movement!!! the rhythmic poetry of literally each sentence moves so gracefully, like if words could be ballet this is swan lake 😩 like I mean:

“This moment was a dance beginning to crescendo, yet the steps were familiar and the meter had fused into your bones, making a home in your heart.”

the dance metaphor, the “meter” being “fused into…bone, making a home in your heart” HELLO???? this sentence alone is like the thesis of this fic but also so delicately beautiful (it reads like a moonrise or the soft glow of a late night movie) but fr if I could eat this sentence and be satiated for life I would’ve done it by now

and like not only is each sentence a banger but the way it builds upon one another to create so much ughh like I said ur writing is literally so so so good u feed us so well 😩💕

night blades.

[ jason todd x you ] author's note: next up from the poll, we have our beloved jaybird <3 a bit of nightmare comfort for this one word count: 1014

Sometime in the night, the clash of steel pulled you slow and steady from the embrace of a dream.

It wasn’t a nightmare this time, but instead something that felt sweet and safe, like time spent with a lover in the night. Which is, you suppose, why the sound of singing blades was enough to pull you so gracefully from the depths of sleep’s humble cradle before the sun had a chance to do the same.

That sound didn’t belong here. Not in your apartment, even if it was a fitting song for the chorus of the night.

What did belong, however, was the low hum of a movie spilling through the bedroom door, the accompanying glow flickering softly from the gap under the wood pulled up tight. Metal gliding along metal sounded again, a steady pattern revealing itself to you, nestled in cozy midnight shadows and soft blankets curled around your shoulders.

You blink away the old, lovely dream, eyes squinting in the dark to find the space next to you empty and cold.

Hisssssss. Silence. A clatter. A rustle. Hisssssss. Silence.

Ah.

Covers find themselves slowly pushed aside. A sweater wraps around your shoulders, chilled as it is from being tossed over a desk chair. A smile ghosts your lips, something small and drowsy replacing the post-sleep daze hopelessly wrapped around your mind and weighting down your limbs.

Except the sweater is Jason’s, and the softness of his favorite cologne tickles your nose as it gently drags you further from the dregs of dreams into a world a little more solid, a little more coherent.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask the silhouette at the table in your kitchen. His collection of knives, daggers, blades, are spread before him like a Sunday feast, or an offering to some long forgotten, ancient god of war. They glimmer in the low light from a small bulb left on above the stove.

He sets down a boot knife, whetstone hanging loose in hand as he turns to you, still submerged in shadow. “Did I wake you?”

“I believe I asked you first, Jay.” his sweater is pulled tighter against the chill, but a soft smile graces your lips anyway. You’ve done this dance enough times to know the steps before you take them in the dark, before you’ve even heard the first notes begin to trickle in through the silence.

A sigh tumbles through the shadows, rough and ragged around the edges. Your eyes trace shoulders tensing, hunching – just enough for you to notice, against the warm glow of the light.

“No,” he says, quiet. Takes a breath. Exhales. “Nightmares.”

You stay silent, in case he continues.

He doesn’t.

“Want some company?”

“Didn’t I ask you a question?”

You snort, best as you can while still half asleep. “Yeah. The knives,” a hand flaps out of the too-long sleeve to gesture at the table. “Just a different sound at night, is all.”

“Shit,” he says. Places the whetstone next to his small arsenal. “Sorry. I’ll finish later.” his voice goes a little tight, strained at the edges with tempered emotion.

“Was it helping?”

A pause. A hand dragging through hair, down a hidden face. The flash of a white streak and green, green, green eyes.

“No. Not really.”

Silence wove through the shadows in the room, creeping into the soft warmth of range hood glow. It settled around your shoulders and caressed Jason down his spine, the empty space between you singing the familiar song of comfort. Of closeness.

This moment was a dance beginning to crescendo, yet the steps were familiar and the meter had fused into your bones, making a home in your heart. You moved without thinking, limbs reaching with all the elegance to a melody known by heart, the routine whispering the next steps after you’ve already completed them.

Routine, with Jason, is something to be held sacred. It’s something to be cherished and adored, because you learned quickly, that you don’t actually know how many moments you’ll have with him.

I’m on borrowed time, beautiful, he says into your skin. His voice is all tender and hazy with remnants of the night clinging to him like armor; the promise of sleep and your touch gently pry it off his body and hold onto him tighter.

You’re being dramatic, you say, words disappearing into streaks of white, sheets tickling your skin as he shifts, shoulders shaking with soundless laughter when you tease.

Maybe, he hums. You know he believes what he says, so words catch in your teeth and you do not part your lips to free them.

Those are the moments you think of now, in the dream-touched embrace of your darkened kitchen. You’re reaching for him, still slow and lazy from the sleep that hasn’t quite let you go.

“C’mon, Jay.”

His name falls through your lips on a sigh, and Jason thinks it’s enough to sing him to sleep right then and there, hearing his name on your voice. It was always spoken with such reverence, that sometimes he forgot he needed to breathe. He could live sustained on your voice alone, he knows, but he’s always been too scared to try.

He didn’t decide to reach for you, to meet you halfway across the room – but that’s what he did, always, even in his sleep.

“Moon rise or movie?” you ask, once his hand is twined with yours. It tugs him closer, without you even noticing.

Jason does, though. Notice. And, with it, the tension within him begins to slink off into the darkest corner shadows where it belongs.

“Movie,” exhaustion laces through the answer, and, he realizes he must have been awake longer than he thought. “Definitely, movie.”

A soft laugh answers. Wordlessly, you lead him to the couch, a shared favorite already flickering across the screen, volume on low. Arms curled around his waist and pulled him close. A blanket is draped loose around your shoulders. You both burrow close, and burrow snug. Within moments, you both drift into a dreamless sleep until the sun rises anew.