#but good god does that bit stick out like a sore thumb

[quigroigne]

So I decided to finally actually read The Six Wives of Henry VIII by Alison Weir (instead of, y’know, just reading snippets from all the tudor history blogs I follow) and I have to say, she’s starting to lose me a bit already at the introduction

I get that this book is 30 years old, but like. Come on. This is a deeply weird and gross comment to make about a seventeen year old girl

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝑺𝒖𝒏

pairing: jack daniels x fem!reader

genre: smut, romance, minors dni

word count: 1.4k

summary: you and jack have a lazy afternoon.

warnings: established relationship, mentioned piv, mentioned creampie, brief fingering, explicit oral sex (receiving), soft dirty talk, excessive use of pet names (sugar, sweetheart, darling, babygirl), soft!jack, no y/n

a/n: this was not planned at all and came to me completely random. My legs were aching and I was laying down thinking "wouldn't be nice if jack was here to give me a massage?" so here we are

Sun trickles down from the windows, soft curtains dancing with the warm wind as beams of light tickle your skin. Your lay on your stomach, naked, bare for the man next to you. Jack’s thumbs dig into the back of your thigh, following an imaginary spine, he gradually moves them up. Then back down. You groan into the pillows and instinctively raise your hips. He lets out a humorful chuckle. 

���Does that feel good sunshine?” 

“Hmmm, it does…” you sigh, a lazy smile on your lips. “Thank you.” 

“It’s the least I can do after wearing you out.” 

You stretch your legs, toes curling into the warm sheets. You let out a soft whine at how the fibers of your muscle ache and relax. Jack’s hand moves to your other thigh, squeezing before repeating the movement. The sides of his fingers reach the swell of your ass, this time he cups the mounds, parting them slightly. A whimper echoes in the back of your throat. You’re still sore and wet between your legs. Despite that, you lift your hips, allowing him to get a better look. Jack dips his thumb between your folds, stroking down, he circles your sensitive clit. 

“Jaack,” you object, albeit halfheartedly. “As much as I would enjoy having you inside me…I don’t think my body can handle it.” 

He clicks his tongue with a teasing grin, “Poor thing.” 

The pads of his fingers continue to softly circle your clit, you moan into the pillows. It smells like him. Your legs start to shake, exhaustion doing little to douse out the fire gradually growing once more. You can feel your nipples hardening. His finger abandons the sensitive bundle of nerves, moving back up. With two fingers he parts your folds that stick wetly together, he pushes in his middle finger. You wince, slick coating the digit, you clench around him. 

“So god damn wet,” he whispers out, sounding as if smoke was clinging to his voice. “Jesus, sweetheart. I can still feel traces of me inside. You enjoy feelin’ me inside don’t you, baby? That’s why you’re holdin’ on?” 

“God, I do,” you let out a groan, walls fluttering. 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Just a little.” 

He pulls out his finger. With a feather touch, he moves down the back of your thigh, leaving wet prints on your skin. Your skin tingles, goosebumps rising across your skin. You feel his hands on both sides of your waist. 

“Can you lift your hips for me, darlin’?” 

You do as you’re told. Honestly, at this point, you’d do anything he asks for, your mind a blissful haze of lust. He kneads your ass and shifts behind you, his cock lays heavy between the crease. 

“Atta girl,” he says, drumming his thumbs against your skin. Your eyes roll back, more wetness gathering between your legs. You know it’s going to be a bit of a challenge to take him again, especially after ruining your insides so thoroughly only an hour ago, however, you’re willing to give it a shot. 

Jack touches his cock softly before leaning between your legs. You wait for the sting of the stretch. Without even noticing, your body tenses, every nerve buzzing with need and anxiety. 

You jump as you feel something warm and wet licking into you. Jack holds you still, nails biting into your skin. He licks again. And you feel the reverberations of his groan that resonate from somewhere deep. 

“Oh sugar,” he coos wetly, rolling his tongue. “We taste so good together.” 

“Jack—Oh, fuck—I d-didn’t,” you break off with a sharp gasp. You’re shaking. 

“What?” he chuckles, warm breath fanning your dripping pussy. A chill runs up your spine. “You thought I’d fuck you? When you’re sore? My goodness gracious, babygirl, you must really think so little of me.” 

“I think the world of you.” 

You’d said it with a certainty that surprised you. It’s the truth. Yet your heart still beats like it’s about to jump out from your chest. Jack is a good man. He has his faults, sure. But who doesn't? He takes care of you, supports you. You know that he’ll always be here, no matter how crazy you might act sometimes. You appreciate it and he should know. Pressing your lips together, you breathe heavily through your nose. His silence is loud. You don’t feel his tongue anymore, only his hands holding onto you in fear that you might disappear along with the sunset. 

“Well,” he chokes out, his voice low. “I think the world of you too, sweetheart.” 

You want to take advantage of the tender moment of vulnerability and say more but Jack has other plans. His mouth is wet and warm against you. Burying his face, he laps at you, groaning and moaning as he squeezes your ass. You moan openly into the pillows. Saliva drips down Jack’s chin, you can sense that he’s grinning. The smug bastard. He pushes your tighs open, pushing his tongue deeper. He’s gentle when he starts playing with your clit. Soft waves of pleasure washing over you with every tender caress of his fingers. 

You don’t think much as you start grinding your hips, seeking his tender mouth. His tongue moves up and down, he parts and puts his mouth onto your sopping cunt over and over, repeating the movement with the added broad strokes of his tongue. You’re visibly shaking now. Your stomach flips and your hips jerk towards him, your fingers burrowing themselves into the messy sheets. 

“S-Sorry about that,” you moan, forcibly stilling your hips. 

“What’re you apologizin’ for?” he slurs, inhaling you. You clench around the soft muscle, your walls left fluttering. He guides the sloppy roll of his hips. “Use me, darlin’. Make yourself feel good.” 

Fuck. 

Pleasure prickles at your skin. Jack takes you apart and puts you back again. He has no trouble doing so. It comes naturally to him. And you find yourself shattering like glass as a way of nature. He replaces his fingers with his mouth and flattens his tongue. After giving it a leisurely lick, he sucks the nub between his lips and moves his tongue rapidly. 

The room is filled with the sounds of ragged breaths and the soft squelch that makes you whimper. You gasp for air, your chest heaving as Jack's fingers trail lightly up and down your back. The warm summer evening air is thick with the heady scent of sex. You can feel the sweat trickling down your temples and between your breasts. 

Your skin heats up, your pulse skyrockets. He’s drinking you like a man starved, groaning and moaning into your tingling skin. You’re breath hitches. Your composure long gone, you cry out his name, again and again. Moaning that you’re about to come, that he feels so good. From the way he starts pulling you towards his mouth, shoving his tongue deeper, he must’ve enjoyed your sultry confessions because he starts pulling you back with an iron grip. 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he rasps. “Come for me darlin’.” 

Your whole body stiffens, the only part not frozen being your throbbing cunt. An elongated moan echoes from your throat. You soak him, gushing into his mouth as he continues to lick and suck. His hands slip down to your tights again, squeezing and massaging the trembling flesh. The added pleasure of it makes your eyes roll back, and your orgasm hits you again. It rolls up and down your spine, forcing the breath out of your lungs. Only garbles nonsense and confessions slip from your spit-slick lips.  

You think he’s praising you. His tone is soft and soothing, and the thought of what he might be saying makes you melt. You smile, arching your back like a cat. Slick trickles down the inside of your thighs, coaxing a soft whimper. Jack kisses your sex, a tender touch of his lips, before pulling back and gently smacking your ass. 

Pushing yourself with a heave, you fall on your back. Jack settles between your legs, sitting back down on his knees His thumb leisurely circles the outside of your knee, you let out a giggle and jerk your leg away. 

“Looks like you had a grand old time,” he teases, mustache curling over his lips. 

Your eyes drop to his cock, heavy and hard between his legs. You point down where your gaze still lingers. “I’m not the only one it seems.” 

Jack looks down and narrows his eyes, “Traitor,” he hisses to his cock. “We’re supposed to be on the same team.” 

“Can’t blame him, he knows I’m about to rock his world.” 

Jack raises an eyebrow, eyes glinting with mischief. “How so?” 

You’re smiling from ear to ear as you kneel in front of him, your wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. Moving up your hand, you kiss the tip. Jack groans. 

You look up at him between heavy lashes. 

“I think this answers your question, cowboy.” 

[yuseirra]

**Spoilers**About 161,

I read the spoilers(people bug me about these and at this point, I figure it's just better if I just see it for myself before someone screams to me about me because it totally stresses me out... I'm sorry, but it's been getting on my nerves and it's gradually been making me a bit furious every time it's been happening) and if this is really all there is to it, I think I should revert back to drawing persona fanarts because it's too shallow for my taste. There's better stories than this out there. I'm not saying the entire thing is bad, but... It's not a very good closure.

I would have gone along with this if the entire movie arc didn't exist, it'd have been better if it didn't...I don't know if there's going to be ANOTHER twist to this (which I really, really hope) but if there isn't, I did preorder vol 14 along with the novel today and I would read that... But I won't buy any physical copies for this series containing chapters past 154 (I still like that chapter a lot, btw)

I'll just hang on a little longer... Because it just makes way better sense for the movie arc to have been nonexistent if the story goes this way. It's just better storytelling WITHOUT that arc and it'd stick out like a sore thumb if this is it.. And I actually like that arc a lot. But the god should be right, wouldn't she? If the god is wrong, then.. There's nothing so much to have as the baseline.

I can accept this if this is what the author wants to do with it, but I personally don't think this is good. I'm not that bitter about the ship.. It's just.. Why make an arc that doesn't have a point?; In what ways does that movie expose how horrible the guy is, because we never really saw him being depicted that way during that actual arc. So would releasing the movie ACTUALLY tarnish his reputation?; I think they should have hinted on that at least a little, but the reactions towards the screenings felt quite the contrary, it was about Ai's love towards the guy, right?

With all that being said... I think I will wait out still, but I'm not sure if I can expect so much. Really, it's better if they never had that arc, so I'm confused why they had to make it if THIS was how things were going to end the entire time.

[generouskittentidalwave]

Hamster and Gretel, oh boy..

Now we are gonna move past the unforgivable and horrendous act of this series being greenlit and given a second season immediately over giving us more Murphy's Law which, unless this show proves it's worth, I will not be forgiving anytime soon, but anyway let's talk about the actual show itself.

It's honestly not that bad. The more I watch it the more I find myself enjoying Gretel and Kevin's relationship and of course Kevin is the TRUE protag of the story (no one will convince me otherwise, we all know it's true), his character is PEAK. I genuinely like the songs, hamster is amazing and Fred is a MOOD. I like the concept of an alien species giving someone powers and then also creating villains for them to fight as well. It's actually a pretty cool concept and makes you wonder what is more at play here. I also LOVE the songs, as usual Dan's shows produce hella bangers. I also love the relationships and dynamics between all the characters.

HOWEVER

I like that they made Kevin the center focus but I'm gonna be frank, I DO NOT like Gretel as a character (so far, this is obviously subject to change as the series goes on). First of all Gretel's face makes me hella uncomfortable everytime I take a second to look at her. Her smile doesn't have any emotional weight behind it so it loses all meaning (with her character in general being as bland as white bread with no crusts, but I do respect the accurate ADHD they added to her character) and on top of that her smile is so unnaturally wide and her eyes are so big and she sticks out like a sore thumb amongst her friends and family to the point it feels uncomfortable. I get they wanted to make her overly cute but that's less cute and more reaching into uncanny valley.

Milo's wholesome smile and character was optimistic and cute, so was Isabella's, even their pets. But Gretel? I'm sorry but it looks like she is staring into my ever waking soul and plotting my demise as we speak. I'm a younger sister myself and I understand where they were going with her character, believe me, but OH MY GOD can she GRIND MY GEARS sometimes with her character and choices.

They made such a good realistically optimistic and calm yet still remorseful and caring character when it came to Milo, they treated it all with care and gave his gentle smile towards his shitty situation so much weight but with Gretel they made her optimism intentionally over the top with no other parts of her character aside from her having ADHD and nothing else, along with the fact she normally succeeds in nearly everything she does, and rarely ever see her need or try to fix mistakes she'd made on her own, and all this makes it to the point that she just feels- soulless to me and I don't like it. It rubs me the wrong way. I love the ADHD representation but they could've done a hella a lot better with her character as a whole, especially with her being a character meant to represent and inspire others.

I stand by what I said that people need to stop treating optimistic characters in media as a bad thing and projecting their issues onto them, but it's a different story when you have a character who is completely hollow and only has an over the top amount of optimism to the point it becomes boring and diminishing because that's all they are. I'm sorry but her character, to me, is like the embodiment of a children's song that is so repetitive you wanna replace your ears with cotton balls.

This show has so much potential and I love so SO many things about it, but they still have A LOT of work to do, especially with one of the heroines of the story. Here's to hoping season 2 will, hopefully, be better than the first one and they'll patch some things up at bit.

And no, her being a little sister doesn't justfy her character as in both pnf and mml they main characters were younger siblings and they were not like this, at all.

[buttercuparry]

This post is inspired by @fromtheseventhhell's post

If Sansa isn't just seeing what she wants to see, but following LF because she has no alternative ( I mean fair...what's a girl to do? She needs roof over her head at least), then it means she knows now what sweetsleep does.

Father and I have larger concerns.

This was said by her when she was thinking of how what's best for Robert the boy is not always good for the Lord Arryn of Vale. And it might be argued that since Sansa hadn't known about the plan it was simply stated with the view of state matters. However were Arya or Dany in her place, and they chose as she has chosen, this alone would have been enough to vilify them. Interestingly enough Sansa's choice to overlook her cousin's health in favour of political matters is shrugged off. I am not trying to give an opinion about Sansa's choice of actions here (for I have none), I am merely stating what I found in the text.

Now what about what happens after? In the sample chapter of Twow, we see her not mulling one bit on the fact what seducing Harry leads to. Harry the Heir becomes more than just an upjumped knight only when the condition of his being the heir is fulfilled. And it can only be fulfilled through Robert's death.

I know that we can't judge without reading the whole of twow and this is why I usually do not take part in the conjecture of Sansa poisoning Robert. But what sticks out as a sore thumb is when Sansa is said to be this masterful little politician in making. More intelligent and more artful than the teenage politicians who have actually proven their worth. She is also said to be the most innocent and kindliest of them all, having clean hands and no blood on them. Not so innocent now is she?

I mean even if we are to interpret that she is being forced to do this because she has to keep LF in her favour, it should ( at least to those who are so eager to criticize Dany for forgetting the name of the girl who was burnt to death by her dragons) ring alarm bells about how Sansa spares not one thought to the plot in the Twow sample chapter. I mean we see her thinking that Robert is a fool for wanting to marry her and claiming to love her; we see her happily jaunting around with Myranda Royce, being quite proud of the tourney she has helped arrange, hoping that Harry the Heir would come to at least like her, being over the moon that her "father" should raid the whole of Vale for lemons just so she can have the spectacle of an impressive lemoncake. Not once in this chapter we see her thinking about sweetsleep being forced to run through Robert's blood or the ominous wording of not "if" Robert dies but "when" he dies. It is true that nothing can be said for sure from only one chapter of a yet to be released book but for now this is all we have.

Now if we are to say that Sansa truly doesn't realize what she is being made to do, then we have to say that she is once again seeing what she wants to see. I find these lines odd:

He does have pretty hair. If the gods are good and he lives long enough to wed, his wife will admire his hair, surely. That much she will love about him.

A consideration of a future where Lord Arryn has a wife brings the possibility of an heir from Robert's own line. Harry the Heir would then be pushed back further down the line of inheritance and possibly then all the gifts that LF promised Sansa then would only be that: empty promises. So Sansa considering a future where Robert lives long enough to wed means that she isn't seeing what LF plans to do. Even when LF has conspired right in front of her. It cannot be anything but a deliberate coping mechanism then. Which again begs the question about all those bloggers who dismiss Arya's own experience of being bullied as her being an unreliable narrator and throws stalk into everything Sansa says...how come they never discuss this?

The political genius in the making gives no extra thought to the overheard conversation where LF is deliberately causing a scarcity of food while simultaneously throwing a feast fit for a king. If this girl truly were to trump both Jon and Dany, shouldn't there have been idk some thought given to this?

I am not saying that Sansa is stupid. She has potential and I am truly impressed how she reeled in Harry the Heir. But the way her stans talk about, especially when they disgrace so many other characters to prove how much better Sansa is than them, where every little thing that Dany does is considered to be a symptom of madness, while Sansa's own involvement in a possible murder is dismissed as her being naive, while simultaneously where Jon is bashed for his stupidity while Sansa's continuous lack of political awareness of the lives of the mass is not even deemed to being an important topic of discussion...it feels a certain kind of way. There is also the continuous insistence that Arya is an unreliable narrator even though the readers face the most confusion while reading Sansa's chapters.

Sansa cannot be the child prodigy of political matters and the naive dove with a dangerous coping mechanism in the same breathe. The only other explanation can be what has been pushed onto Arya for so long. That is, Sansa doesn't care one whit for Winterfell. She truly cannot perceive Robert Arryn being murdered. She wants Harry as someone with whom she can build a life with and cares not for his supposed inheritance. She cares not for her own claim on her house's ancient seat and would eventually live her life away from it. But I am sure even this wouldn't be satisfying to them.

[jjramblesjj]

The Boys Season 4

(Incomplete Commentary)

(Series Dropped)

I will be watching the eps at whatever times I happen to and this post will help me list my issues in real time. Spoilers of Course are ahead.

Ep 1.

33:46 - A love triangle? Thats such a tired ass direction to go in if they are. Frenchie is literally a polyamorous ass nigga. This has been an established aspect of his character.

39:10 - I refuse to believe any smart nigga would willingly hang around Homelander's ass. That literally is the most craziest shit ever. Like cure some wild ass disease or something.

Sage: (Actually Considering Throwing it All Away Like She not talking to fuckin HOMELANDER)

I truly will be amazed if she lasts up to the last 3 episodes of this season.

42:11 Oh thank fuckin God. I thought this show was boutta be on some degrassi shit, but we good.

42:30 (Hears Denzel Playing From a Distance)

46:07 I kind of gleamed over this, but Noirs alive? is it just a different guy? Retcon? that'd be super fuckin weird.

50:18 This is what I mean when I say the show keeps spitting in your face. Like the series made clear the show isn't friendly to nobody in like the first 2 seasons, but did I really need to see a queer person get beat up by a bunch of white supremacists with this framing?

"Just don't watch the show."

(touches together index fingers and puts knees together)👉👈

But I wanna see what Happeeeensss!

Like.......While i'm sure its not as bad as Berserk (hasn't seen Berserk) Its the same effect of there being like...This type of violence just turning into voyeurism for the writers at some point and I don't respect it, because the visuals are just so bad for life at times.

(Untimed) Its wild the first important black women in the show ends up working for Homelander on some straight coona palooza timing.

53:42 OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO THEY GAVE THE FISH A VOICEEEE OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

58:29 bruh........

Anyway............That is indeed a first episode of The Boys.

Ep 2

3:32 I'm fuckin dead

3:48 Ohhhh, so it is just some guy.

12:41 FNAF

13:29 Holy Fucking Shit he Sucks.

18:31 Why is he even alive? Literally survived all 3 seasons just to get super into his abuser bag again.

20:20 [Pauses] ?????

24:05 PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

24:22 Okay, This might actually be my favorite joke out of the entire show. The character choice makes too much sense.

38:24

38:49 That Nigga With The Camera:

41:07 I hate this trope so much. Like was there really not a more clever way to get out of this? You are already suspending so much disbelief when watching shows or movies like this and what not, but the lack of creativity does kind of stick out like a sore thumb with moments like this.

41:48 - 42:27 huh......This truly is a scene.

42:46 WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY HAVE A ROCK VERSION OF HAVA NAGILA?!?!?!?!?!?!?

43:56 "ZIONIST CABAL"!!?!?!??!?!?!/......bruh

(untimed) also why are they just holding them? The entire sequence of this fight has been questionable on a technical level, but I don't want to cinema sins it up so I'll just stop talking about it for now.

(also untimed) Homelanders got some wild ass canines. They've been there for the entire series, but its just a detail I find very interesting if that is suppose to hold any thematic purpose under its subtlety.

48:27 Oh my gosh...........That might be the most evil thing he's done this entire series.

51:01 Ooooooo, Interesting. This the exact sort of conflict I wanted. It took 4 seasons, but AY...........the first 3 were pretty foundational in their own ways.....Maybe 3 could've been handled a bit better. I hope they handle this character conflict good and don't DOOM Patrol it up......(I like doom patrol btw I just hate a lot of its later story beats and redemption arcs)

53:31 Okay....This scene........I dislike the romance dynamic of "partially put together black character" and "piece of shit stress-inducing white character", because there's a stink of white mediocrity (in acceptability) in that balance, BUT...................My understanding of why someone would ship MM and Butcher has risen from 0% to 1% with this scene alone.

That was a Fun episode. This ACTUAL A Train redemption Arc really boutta be a stinker. Like there's no way he doesn't die this season if this is the direction their going. Oh, and the Deep............I really don't understand why he's still around. Like no ones really bodied this nigga yet? Also I didn't like how the last season used Ryan's character. This setup for him seems interesting, but weird, because it still doesn't make sense really how we got here.

Ep 3

1:07 "God-less NonBinary Socialist" Kinda a hitter.....What if homelander just sounded like Jordon Peterson? Jordon Peterson does give off Milk fetish vibes if I'm gonna be real.

"Yummers"🐸

6:30 :O

10:53 That's fucking horrible.....And there's no fuckin way they switched to an injustice knockoff game right after. Someone really needs to find these writers and cause nefarious misfortune upon them.

12:04 Jesus Fucking Christ

24:48 Really?

29:37 I Love this scene so much. Almost got me to cry. I swear if he didn't do that after saying all that shit I might have quit watching this entire show. Like oh my gosh the character growth is palpable.

31:15 DIRTTTYYYYY!!!! they did her dirty as fuck.

(We are so, Not Fucking Back Right Now)

34:12 What?

34:13 Theres no Way they're trying to make this a moment....

34:14 Theres just no fuckin way.....

34:15 NIGGA SHE'S A GROWN ASS WOMEN!?!?!?!?!!? HELLLO??!?!?!?!?! HI!!?!!??!!? like..............It is fucked up and I'd get being angry, but this entire setup doesn't make any sense to me unless I'm somehow missing something...........Like what is this?

34:26 "people don't change" Theres no fucking way you are getting son'd by a Racist for being 13 and talking like a 13-year-old at Your grown ass Age.....

...............This actually sucks...........Like thats trash writing......Like theres no way that it.........Right?

42:01 Damn Jesus.

51:32 What the FUCK are these writers on right now?

Nah, because

1. He should be Dead

2. Writers have officially wrote 2 black women getting Rawed by The Worst White Men on Earth.

3. The only other black women in this show just keep tallying points for the coon-o-meter

4. They're literally giving everything to the Deep Right now. Its already unjustifiable, but its even MORE so if this nigga don't get clapped this season.

Like.....Whats actually going on right now? Where Nubian Prince at? That nigga sick or something? This is fuckin horrendous......Niggas really blicked the Intel lady minding her business before this Guy. It's truly disrespectful as fuck the tomfoolery happening before my eyes right now.

.............tch...........I think this ep has like a balance of "what the fuck are you talking about?" and "oh my gosh this scene is great" that makes me just lenient enough to say its not entirely bad. Like I loved that Butcher and Ryan scene so much, but then they

Killed Chill Surveillance Lady

Made some silly ass conflict up between Starlight and racist women

Allowed the Deep to Win

Somehow made Homelander not hear Hughie's heartbeat directly above him?

Among other things I probably missed. Its just...........I really hope they prove my assumptions wrong on where they may be going with this........I just.........Ya I hope this shit doesn't turn into degrassi. Thats all.

(Dropped)

[oldandkinky]

Find the word! tag game, tagged by the lovely lovely @piceuscelus

Words: scream, warn, stay

Scream (from the underage beast thing I wrote after I prompted the one for @dead-dove-diner )

In any case, he could hear her coming down the steps, humming softly to herself. He could have stopped Jaskier, could have pulled him off his prick and made sure they were decent before Ciri could see anything - but he didn't. Jaskier's arse feels too good, hot and tight and plush, and Geralt would rather cut off his own arm than pull out of that heavenly clutch. Besides, Ciri is twelve, old enough to learn about these things.

He reaches around Jaskier and grabs hold of his cheeks, pulls them apart to give their little voyeur a better view. Jaskier groans and fucks down harder, oblivious of their audience.

"Fuck, Geralt, yes, fuck, fuck, feel so good inside me," the troubadour whines, and Geralt plants his feet wide and thrusts up into his tight arse. “Yes! Oh, gods, ‘m gonna- Fuck, love, ‘m gonna come-”

Geralt pulls him down hard into every upwards thrust of his hips, and it’s jarring, so rough that Jaskier’s teeth clack loudly, and it shoves Jaskier straight over the edge into his orgasm. He screams, his nails leaving angry red grooves on Geralt’s shoulders as he comes between them, and the sharp pain of the scratches combined with Ciri’s flushed little face in the shadows, the shocked, confused flutter of her heart, that’s enough to lead Geralt to his end as well. He groans and sinks his teeth into his bard’s shoulder, his hands leaving bruises on his hips as he empties himself into Jaskier’s guts, and when he manages to gather his wits again, they’re alone once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warn (from a "What if Lambert showed up to save Essi instead of Geralt" Honey AU)

The village is bustling. It's almost Lammas and everyone is in a good mood, making Lambert stick out like a sore thumb even more than he usually would. He avoids towns during festivals for this exact reason, but now he doesn't have a choice.

He does, in fact, but he's committed to seeing this through, even if the thought of facing Jaskier again makes him vaguely sick. What if the boy has changed his mind about what happened, if he feels taken advantage of - in what way?, a voice that sounds exactly like Aiden's whispers in his head -, if he spits in Lambert's face and-

"Lambert!"

He only gets a second's warning before something small and sturdy slams into his legs, thin arms winding around them. A blue eye peeks up at him from under wild blond hair.

"Hey, Essi."

He stands there like a dolt, Essi's arms still wrapped around his legs, unsure what to do. They're in the middle of the street, and he can feel the suspicious looks of the neighbours like a physical touch. Kids and Witchers are never a good combination in most people's opinion.

"Jaskier didn't think you'd come back but I knew you would!" the girl chirps, and Lambert looks down at her again.

"Yeah?"

~~~~~~~~~~

Stay (omegaverse Geraskier piss fic 🤷)

Jaskier loses a bit of time, he thinks, because when he can focus again he's being pulled off the horse by strong arms. There's an old fireplace, some logs set up around it. It looks like this is a popular rest stop, and the Witcher leads him over to the logs and presses him down.

"Stay here," he instructs, but Jaskier tips forward as he steps back.

He winds his arms around the Witcher's thigh and presses his face into the man's crotch with a whine, and oh, he never wants to leave this place. The Witcher smells fucking amazing here, his base scent mixed with sweat and the unmistakable scent of his cock, and now, after however long they've shared the saddle, of Jaskier and Jaskier's piss, and he nuzzles against the leather like a man starved.

"Fuck." The Witcher stands stiffly as Jaskier huffs his scent, but he's not as reluctant as he's pretending to be. His cock swells against Jaskier's cheek, noticeable even through the leather, and he turns his head just so and noses against it.

Who cares that he has never fucked an alpha? Right now, all he can think about is sitting on this delicious-smelling dick, taking the no doubt wonderful knot until he can’t see straight anymore. Surely the alpha won't begrudge him that?

~~~~~~~

Tagging @restless-witch, @greyduckgreygoose, and @witchertrashparty, if you want to.

Your words are "sweet", "hold", and "strong".

(also excuse the janky formatting, I'm doing this on my phone and it's The Worst)

[fixfoxnox]

This is random as fuck but I just randomly thought while drawing something, “what would Simon’s (from roach’s last life) reaction be to Ghost? (His current life) and vise versa?

I actually really want to explore this more later, in like a one-shot or something once I finish the fic cause I have so many thoughts with it.

I would like to say, we will be getting more of first life Simon in about two chapters, but something I have to make clear about those chapters is that they are being told through Roach's dreams.

They're going to be scenarios that are created by him and not actual memories and thus not fully accurate to how first life Simon actually was.

This is all being said because currently the only actual memory that Roach has had of his first life's Simon (that we've seen) is in chapter 18. So some of what I'm about to say might be a little bit weird or not exactly match what you read later, but this is like if the actual past! Simon met present! Simon.

So generally, I feel like they'd lowkey hate each other lmao

Not like a lot, but I think that while they are so similar, the things that they are different about would stick out to them like a sore thumb and they just wouldn't be able to get past it.

Lets start with style. These two have completely different styles and tastes. Past! Simon has his piercings and his kinda punk/metal style while Present! Simon prefers a softer more expensive kind of style.

While I don't think this would necessarily cause a lot of issues for them I do think Past! Simon would be like "oh my god this guys kinda lame" and Present! Simon would be "why the fuck does he look like that?"

I think the first thing that would really cause problems/stand out to them would be the masks. I think the first time Past!Simon would walk into a room with just the 141 and immediately pull of his mask, Present! Simon would freak the fuck out. Like generally stressed because, while that isn't him, they do look pretty much identical outside of piecing and different tattoos, so people are technically seeing him.

Past! Simon definitely would not understand Present! Simons stress and would probably get easily frustrated with him trying to get him to put the mask back on/not take it off. I imagine this would cause a light argument but nothing much other than that.

I think the biggest issue between the two would be the Soap/Roach situation. Past! Simon has a real problem with Past! Soap and while the two can be friendly and do co sider themselves to be friends at times, they also argue a lot because of both of their feelings for Roach. To Past! Simon, Roach is his person. Roach is literally the most important person in his life.

So I think for him, finding out that Present! Simon is dating both Soap and Roach and was dating Soap first? He's fucking confused. He's lowkey pissed. He definitely does not understand this guy and he makes it known.

Meanwhile Present! Simon is fucking pissed at Past! Simon for how he seems to hate/argue all the time with Past! Soap. And, let's be real, some of Past! Simon's frustrations with Past! Soap are going to come through when he's talking to Present! Soap.

I think Present! Simon dislikes how much Past! Simon hates Soap and he does not like how possessive over Roach he is. He does not understand, in the slightest, why Roach is with him.

Now keep in mind, I also think that these two are probably ignoring the others good traits just because of their own Self-deprecation, and this is like a real, physical version of themselves that they can get a bit of that self-hatred out for.

I think after an initial probably few meetings of troubles, they'd kinda mellow out a bit and just quietly dislike the other without causing any problems.

One last thing, if these two see the other fight, that is one of the only moments that they will be openly impressed with the other.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Schrodinger’s Cat

Fandom: The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Summary: Rick is about to leave on his next mission with Task Force X, and you have a bad feeling about it….

Word Count: 1628

TW: Canon Character Death

You hated that he was leaving again. You knew he didn’t have a choice, but that only made you feel worse about the situation. Both of you had thought things would be different once you had been released from Belle Reve, once you were out from under Waller’s thumb. But you both should have known better. Waller may no longer have access to you, but that had just caused her to tighten her hold on Rick.

"I know it’s a pain and you can't always get service, but please try to call me. Or at least text me. I don’t care what time it is here." You were sprawled wildly across the bed, your head and shoulders hanging over the edge. You watched, upside down, as your boyfriend packed his bag for another mission to God knows where, for God knows how long.

"Baby, you know how it is. I can't always do that."

"I know. But every time you leave, I can't stop worrying. At least when I was on the missions with you, I knew you were alright. But now, until you call, I’m in this weird limbo of not knowing if you’re dead or alive. It's like that damn Schroeder's cat paradox."

Rick chuckled softly. "Schrodinger."

"What?"

"It's Schrodinger's cat."

"Really? Then who the hell is Schroeder?"

"He's the kid who plays piano in the Peanuts comics."

"Are you sure?

"Pretty sure, darlin'."

You thought for a second, then shrugged. "Well, whoever's cat it is, you know the thing I’m talking about. Where you don’t know if the cat is dead or alive until you open the box. You’re the cat."

“Does that make you Schrodinger?” Rick chuckled again. “And I’ll be fine. It’s just a quick in and out reconnaissance mission, nothin’ to worry about.”

“Rick, it’s not funny. And you can’t lie to me. I’ve been there, I’ve seen what can happen. Good people, highly trained people, can be taken out in an instant. All it takes is one lucky shot or one tiny mistake and it’s all over. We both know that.” Rick gently placed his hand over yours to still it, and you realized you had been unconsciously stroking the large scar above your collarbone. The one you had received on your first mission together. The one that almost ended your relationship before it ever had a chance to start.

Rick sighed. “You're right, okay. I know things can go sideways at any time. But Harley and Harkness are with me this time. You know they’ll have my back.”

“They better,” you grumbled, sitting up on the bed. While you were glad to be out of that hellhole of a prison, you really did miss your two best friends. But you knew they would do anything they could to help bring Rick back home to you, and that did make you feel a little bit better. “I didn’t realize Harley was back at Belle Reve. Who else is on the team?”

“She was picked up yesterday for a bank robbery. And it’s a bunch of new recruits. Mongal, Blackguard, Weasel, and a few others I don’t remember.”

“Wait, they’re having you bring Weasel? What help could he possibly be on an in and out retcon mission? Or Mongal for that matter. They both stick out like a sore thumb. You might as well bring Nanaue,” you scoffed, but then your face grew serious. “Rick, please don’t go. I don’t know what’s different, but I have this feeling of…. dread that I’ve never gotten before any mission, even when I used to be on them. Something about this one just doesn’t seem right. Please, call out. Just say you got sick, or you can crash your car on the way into work. Make it look like an accident. I can blow out your tire! Just…. something!”

“Darlin’, you know I can’t do that. Besides, Waller would still drag my ass in even if I was in a full body cast.”

“Then we can run away! You can just go full AWOL and we can disappear together. I still have some contacts in the Gotham underground. Ozzy told me he’d always have a job for me at the Iceberg Casino, and I used to plant sit for Ivy when she was in lock-up. Plus, she’s really good friends with Harley so I’m sure she would help us.”

“Y/N, we are not going to become fugitives and go live with criminals. You just got out of prison, are you really so eager to go back?”

“If it means being there to watch your back….in a second.” Your eyes bore into Rick’s with a fury and determination that revealed how deadly serious you were.

Rick reached down to where you were still seated on the bed and took your hands in his. “Okay, listen. I was going to talk to you about this when I got back but seeing as you need some reassurance……. I spoke to some of my buddies in Washington. They think they can pull rank and get me transferred.”

“Transferred? Where? When?”

Rick shrugged. “I told them I didn’t care where, as long as they got me far away from Waller. They should be finalizing everything in the next couple days. Which means, if all goes according to plan, this will be my last mission with Task Force X. One more, then I’m done.” He beamed enthusiastically as he stepped back and opened his arms wide, probably expecting you to jump excitedly into them. But you only stared back at him in horror.

“Take it back! Don’t say that, you never said that!”

Rick’s face fell. “What? I thought you’d be ecstatic. We can get out without having to become fugitives. We can start our life together, do all the things we planned.”

You placed your hands over your ears and shook your head violently. “Stop it, Rick. I swear to God, I am serious. Stop talking now.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Rick asked exasperatedly.

“I have seen too many of those stupid cop movies you make us watch to know that the best way to get yourself killed is by giving the whole ‘I only have one more day ‘til retirement’ speech.”

Rick rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed. “Please tell me you aren’t serious?”

“I am dead serious. I already have a terrible feeling about this whole situation. You don’t need to make things worse by jinxing it.”

“Baby, this isn’t a movie. Jinxes, curses, that’s not how the world works.”

You stared at him in astonishment. “Excuse me? Have you forgotten the world that you live in? Rick, your ex-girlfriend was possessed by a thousand-year-old sorceress, we’ve been on teams which consisted of a crocodile man, a guy who manipulates fire, and a warrior whose sword devours the souls of its victims, and, in case you’re forgetting, I have the ability to blow shit up with my mind. That is exactly how the world works.”

“Yeah, but none of that’s not the same thing.”

“It’s exactly the same thing!” you screamed in frustration. But then you let out a big sigh as you tried to regain some of your composure. “Look, I don’t want to fight, especially not right before you leave. Don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled to know this may all be over soon but I’m just stressed enough as it is about this mission. Stupid or not, you telling me about this probably being your last one just adds another reason I don’t feel good about the whole situation.”

Rick came over and he leaned down to kiss you softly. “I know. And I wish I could say somethin’ or do somethin’ that could make this all better. But I just don’t know what that is.”

Standing, you pulled him into a tight hug, his strong arms wrapped instantly around your smaller frame. You could hear his heart beating strongly as your head rested directly above it. You whispered, “Just come back, please. Just come back to me.”

You could feel his response as it rumbled through his chest. “Always, darlin’.”

The phone rang at 4:37 in the morning, waking you from your restless dreams involving cats, boxes, pianos, and Weasel. It had been three days since you had heard from Rick and his last call had done little to ease your fears. Whenever he was on a mission, he would always try to keep things vague and light, so as not to worry you. But this time, his voice had sounded edgy and anxious. Things must have gone sideways, and he had possibly lost a lot of people. You just hoped Harley and Boomer were okay, but you knew Rick wouldn’t tell you until he got home even if anything had happened to them. The fact he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, tell you more just added to your anxiety.

You scrambled to grab the phone before it stopped ringing, not even glancing at the caller id since Rick was the only one with this number. Finally answering, you mumbled with a sleepy yet relieved chuckle, "It’s about time you called me. I was getting pretty worried, babe."

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment. Then a familiar voice spoke up, "Y/N?"

You jolted up in bed as your heart dropped in your chest and your blood ran cold. "Ha-Harley…?"

"He asked me to call you if anything happened... I'm so sorry...."

The phone slipped from your hand as a howl tore from your lips. You could still hear Harley’s voice coming faintly from the phone now lying on the floor, but you don’t need to hear any more. You already knew.

The box had been opened.

[anonanimal]

been listening to tswift for hater reasons and got some random notes

wildest dreams kinda sounds like several lana songs to me, mostly young and beautiful

vigilante shit sounds like dollar store billie eilish. vocals on the bridge even seem like she's trying to do the restrained thing

her delivery on fearless re-recorded is weirdly...deliberate?

i was surprised by how much i didn't hate red, i was aghast, like "it's a perfectly enjoyable pop album? and i finished it without getting mad or bored??"

bad blood sticks out like a sore thumb on 1989, it sounds like a reputation reject that traveled back in time. god i hate it so much

her music has matured a bit, if she does the next album with literally anyone but jack antonoff i might have to stop being a hater. someone who can take the good bits of folklore, evermore, and midnights and make something less boring

i like what she's doing with her hair right now

[exoticalmonde]

Evealia x Mink (Dramatical Murder VN)

I don't know how cringe self-inserting yourself into games is at the moment but I am a reader AND a writer, so here is my DMMD self-insert (lacking art because my PC has been exploded for 3 months now and fate just doesn't want me to do my work).

With a small part of my self-ship fic that I have been unable to finish on time for my birthday. As a treat.

 I'm making mine under the pretext that Aoba has decided to be with Ren as the true ending. That actually leaves me with other people I could have experienced Over Tower with (or had an entirely different situation) and that other people is just Mink.

I'll refer to this OC in 3rd person with the name Eve, because it feels weird to say 'my' although it is 'my' in the sense of

At this point her AllMate is recycled Maine Coon, the size of a big dog (around 70cm of body height) but de-clawed. The previous models were meant as guard animals in a very popular fashion shop/show thing but many of them became susceptible to viruses and those viruses ultimately destroyed the feline population of these AllMates made them aggressive. Declawing was the first attempt to keep them despite the faults but since they would also have to alter their teeth/jaw, it was just easier (as they were a limited number) to get rid of them and get new ones. 

The way Eve managed to fix her AllMate was exchange parts from a scrapped dog AllMate, which is why he often shows puppy characteristics. Like randomly barking between meows.

Oh, where did she get the parts? She works at a repair shop as a clerk and knows this or that. She originally came from a different country, so getting instantly into robotics was her way to 'fit in' when in reality she sticks out aesthetically like a sore thumb in that world.

AllMate’s name is Noon because its serial code is N00N265 and they are not really fit for Rhyme battles, so that’s how she manages to avoid all the battles. They are ginger, of course, so the cat itself is a little bit insane, and despite the name being more feminine the cat has a deep masculine voice box.

Haha, Noon and Eve, get i- *Gets shot*

She lived in one of those apartments on the 14th floor on the main road and her room used to never have any light in it no matter the time of day. It made her really unhappy because she loves plants that bloom, but those don't last long in the shadows. After getting with Mink she's crazy for making the back of the house into a garden and once in a while he ends up minding something like... a pot of mint in his room because she needs it to be somewhere cozy until the leaves take root.

When she meets Mink the first reaction is to run, the second one is to be pathetic on the floor and because she’s a woman he hesitates for 0.00003 seconds, just long enough for her to kick him in the shin and run literally 4 meters before he catches up and the entire scenario of what happened there happens, we all know Mink's route.

Actually when it comes to other characters she’s not at all battle-ready and would rather run than fight, be it because she has never had to learn how to fight or because that primitive part of her brain clicks faster than 'I should defend myself'. So she'd probably be a good punching bag if she wasn't so pathetic and big doe-eyed teary-eyed.

Mink will pick up the name Eva eventually if it reminds him of his own gods (Eva is a goddess mother that brings life and destiny/death along with it, or a goddess of water and the earth) so he thinks that it’s okay if she carries that name as long as she honors the goddess. And Eve of course does so Mink doesn’t slap the spirit out of her in return.

Noon and Lulacan constantly fight.

Anyways, when he disappears for a while she is MAD, probably because she pops off at some point and says that he doesn’t deserve to die and should keep living so the memory of his people would remain and somehow through gaslighting and mental gymnastics and he recognizes the goddess’ name he decides to survive.

After they get together she is totally the type to think she’d get abandoned again and sleeps on the couch until she almost freezes over and dies from abandoned puppy syndrome although Noon is always with her and he’s a purring heat blanket draped over her at all times.

In their relationship while Mink is the brooding and 'actions speak louder than words' kind of quiet guy she is the FMA radio in the background, always talking to the cat, to Mink or to herself without really caring if he is listening and without trying to be interesting, just spilling all the information ever and if he doesn’t like it he can always move away into another room and she would never be mad.

He doesn't, but sometimes he has his ways to shut her up if he needs peace.

When Eve does want attention though she would sit in his feet like a dog, leaning against his knee and would do her thing until he gives up and asks what she wants. It’s usually to go on walkies or to be taught stuff or for him to talk nonsense to her instead.

She doesn't pick up on his job but she's a magpie and begins making the beads he uses instead. He doesn't allow her to sell any since the production is slow, but if he likes anything in particular he picks it up. He got her the tools to begin.

Also totally the person to think Mink would leave again and sit outside in the cold all by her stupid self, the only reason she survived abandoned puppy syndrome is because Noon laid on top of her and kept her warm on the couch.

Otherwise she's not jealous, even worryingly unmoved if other people say something in mild interest about her husband. Truth is, she gaslights herself into believing that it's stupid to think Mink would go back on his words. Does it in front of the bathroom mirror every evening.

She also brings flowers and trinkets she got throughout their first 5 years of being together for the memorial/gravesite and left them there without telling mink whenever something reminded her about a specific person Mink opened up about at some point.

Silly details people usually insert in their OCs information:

Date of Birth: August 5th

Age: 23 years old

Zodiac sign: Sun - Leo; Moon - Scorpio; Rising - Leo

Fav Food: Anything that has chicken and cream in it

Detested Food: Zucchini, Eggplant, Pumpkin, Melon, Animal innards (except liver)

Fav Animal: Jaguar/ Bird of Paradise

Fav Gem: Fire Opal

Fav Colours: Royal Red/Purple/Green

Character Base Colour: Blood Orange

Morning/Night person: Morning person

Also tea person, cat person, spirit animal is either fox or deer and I can't think of anything else, I am sqeezed dry.

[claudiajcregg]

I love these! (Doing and asking :) 🙅‍♀️ 🤔 🏅☀️

Grrr. Tumblr ate the mostly written post because of course it did. Thank you for asking, Mia 💕 These were really fun to answer (and also hard). For someone who's really her worst critic, I do enjoy talking about my process and whatnot. I'm sorry in advance for all the rambling.

(If you want to ask me more, the questions are here ✨ )

🙅‍♀️ What is one trope you refuse to ever write?

I just don't see myself doing incest or bestiality. If we're talking more general things, I can't see myself writing cheating (with the asterisk of this being one member of the couple straying, and that there are possible situations where I wouldn't mind). Also, anything extremely violent, mostly because it's not something I often consume in media.

🤔 What’s one genre you’ve never written that you’d like to try?

Oh, maybe action and/or suspense? My writing style (intimate moments, conversations, just vibes) is not the most compatible, but if the situation arose... Sure! (I guess that, in a past life, I wrote around mysteries and crime and whatnot. I was too young then 😬 )

I also would love to be better at writing stories-within-stories. I absolutely do not have the talent to convincingly seem like the talented writers I'm doing. (Once again thinking of the fluffy memoir fic. And another one, which has a super fun premise, but my writing is failing it with this aspect, I fear.)

And not a genre specifically but collaboration? Again, I have super talented friends. I'd stick out like a sore thumb. I think it'd be fun!

🏅 What is the fic you’re most proud of?

I am my own worst critic but I would still probably say all of them, maybe? I saw something in them that I thought might connect with others and that's why they're out there. Even the ones that aren't (so many of them) and might never see the light of day. Writing isn't easy. It makes me nervous and makes me crave validation.

Anyway. The pageant answer is still true but as for actual ones, but using the way I would mentally refer to them, lol.

Big Block of Cheese 2008. I just saw it's at almost 100 kudos... excuse me what. I just felt it was something special from the moment I wrote it. I think I always would've posted it at some point, even if I hadn't made friends. None of my fics come close to it in terms of "love" and tbh, I'm fine with it.

St. Augustine. Just because it came to me so fast (I think it was mostly written in a morning?) and IDK, I love the scene. This one has broken out from most of my other purely CJD stories, whether it was timing or it getting recommended by the right people. It was nerve wracking writing something pre-canon but I think it went well! It was fun to write. I haven't read it in forever so I reserve the right to remove it from the list.

Obviously, star shine started it all but if I had a third spot... Portland. It's probably one of my flops (everything is, but this one especially) and yet. I recall being so proud right after I finished it and wanting people to read it. (It obviously grew since then because I can't shut up.) It's long, maybe unnecessarily so, but god does it get to me. I was in a writing rut (see next answer) and challenged myself to write 'canon' stories, and I think the two are good.

But... To be honest, the answer has to be my unposted multichapter. I always think it's bad until I read it, and it kinda hits, all imperfections aside. 150k words in 5-and-a-bit months (26/3 to 2/9?), 33 chapters. I wrote 2/3 of that in two months (with 19 being the last one I wrote before 19/5), until my muse decided she was done and I decided to actually change jobs. (I also wrote now-published fics like haunted by the notion or don't want you to go, as well as a bunch of other smaller ones, in between! WTF was I on in 2021? I think the mini reunion altered my brain chemistry.) I've considered just dropping a link to the unedited, unbetaed drive on the server one day, ngl.

ANYWAY. Too long-winded!

☀️ Has anyone ever left you a comment that made your day? What did it say?

UM. All of them? real talk here, I don't get many comments so I love them all. I write for a show that ended 17 years ago, for a small (and surprisingly divisive) ship (their loss - there's so much talent) so I should've known going in. It took me some time to internalize it. I'm also not that good a writer, so I'll take it. Comments mean the world to me, even if it's a "lovely" or "great job." Just taking a few seconds means a lot and writers aren't kidding when they say it's motivating. It's also how I've made friends in the fandom so yeah! comments!

To highlight some rather recent ones!

Haunted by the notion got so many from so different people, and they were all so incredibly nice when I was terrified. All of those broke me, and might be the reason why I've been struggling with a followup! (And why I've been wanting to post again soon, rather than wait.) From the other stories, I have two ~recent ones~ I actually bookmarked because they broke me.

miabicicletta's (💕 ) on St. Augustine. I woke up on a Saturday and I remember reading it from bed and crying. It was so incredibly kind and lovely and I couldn't remember the last time anyone had written anything as long. I still think about it all the time. 🥂 (I've now realized Steph also wrote another lovely one ♥️ That story and the love it got, man.)

krazykitkat's on all's well + her comment on St. Augustine because her stories are some of my favorites. I couldn't believe that someone whose work I adored and have read countless times since I finished the show six years ago had read one of my stories, but had liked it???? Didn't compute. Doesn't compute. She's read many since (see St. Augustine, the most recent one), commented and left kudos on a bunch, and it still... blows my mind. (This one happened while I was flying back from Stockholm and was the first thing I saw when I landed.)

But really - so many people have left so many kind messages over the last couple of years, and I've probably gotten emotional at all of them. That there are people out there who are reading the silly little stories that have come out of my brain... wonders never cease.

[campbluelake]

Remember Summer Days (Finale 5/5)

[♫♫♫]

Twenty minutes is, thankfully, a lot of time to come up with a cover story. While the specifics will be ironed out down the road, for now Julio convinces everyone to feign amnesia, at least until they’re home and don't have police breathing down their neck. It’s not like anyone would believe the truth, or that they’d have proof. 

Max, meanwhile, is looking to make himself scarce before others arrive. He can’t exactly hide in his current form, and Abbie and Niko stick out like sore thumbs as well. Carefully, he writes down an address and copies it a few times so it can get passed around. It’s the address of the real Mason Hatcher, who is about to have a lot of unexpected company. But that’s a problem for later. For anyone who asks, he has written a the address of a P.O. Box in West Virginia as well underneath Mason's address.

It’s a bit of a wait, but if your time trapped in that other domain taught you anything, it was how to wait. How to pass the time. Your personal belongings have been scattered haphazardly in the staff cabin, along with some stuff that you accumulated in Eden. Items that were created with your love. Items that you used to bond and forge deeper connections with. Items that spark joy, and through your love became “real”. 

Maybe you just focus on packing so you can get the fuck out. Maybe you give the camp one final tour. It is far emptier than Eden’s version of the Camp, with the stock in the kitchens, medical cabin, and trading post all empty, since no counselors meant no Summer Camp. 

Maybe you challenge the Squatch one last time. Or see what supplies are still in the activity cabins. Or if Yua’s car is still there (it is, but the battery is dead from months of disuse, and there is some police tape around it. The contents have been rummaged through thoroughly, but most can be found in the Grand Hall in evidence boxes. Yua does find a few raccoon plushies in the trunk however, that definitely weren’t there before).

Maybe you go to Ranger Buddy’s real grave, to pay your final respects. 

 Or maybe you are just waiting for your turn to use the phone so you can call your friends and family, who no doubt have been worried sick about you since May. You’ll have to wait for your turn after everyone else who has the same idea.

Bob arrives first with his bus, and practically tackles you all at once, crying as he grips you in a group hug, apologizing and thanking every God that you are all okay. An ambulance and two police cars arrive next, and Bob takes to packing all of your belongings into the bus before you’re taken aside to check on everyone and get stories and confirm identities. Bob is yelling at police officers to get off your case and let you all rest, since you clearly don’t remember anything and this is obviously a stressful situation for you all. 

It’s not even noon when everything is squared away, and police and paramedics leave, giving you the good to go. Bob offers to bring you all to his house, and then you can get picked up or coordinate rides from there. Frankly, everyone is a bit too weary to put any real objections up. Plus, it’s closer to civilization than Camp, and he offered a stop at McDonald’s along the way. 

Gathering into the bus to leave is a lot quieter, more somber affair than packing up to arrive was. Wordlessly, Bob closes the bus door behind the last of you, and begins driving away. 

As he does so, you may be tempted to turn around and look through the back of the bus, giving Camp Blue Lake one final glimpse until you leave it behind, possibly forever. You see the gate and archway that you’ve crossed a thousand times now, but you also see a figure, growing ever more distant

(ty to junijwi for the art!)

Even if you aren’t familiar with this particular form of the elderly man in front of the gate entrance immediately, you know you’ve seen that hat and that mustache, and would recognize those anywhere. Also free from the bidding of demonic forces, Ranger Buddy has made an appearance, waving farewell to his counselors just as he did at the end of every summer in life. He gives a warm smile to you all, tears in his eyes. 

As you get further from the gate, his form grows fainter, and right before you turn away, he fades from sight. But he will always be there, so long as Camp Blue Lake exists. And in your memories of one unforgettable summer.

[FIN]

[dex-starr]

God I can’t believe I saw Volta and Loathe twice this year I am in disbelief about that for a multitude of reasons. Two very big reasons sticking out like a pair of sore thumbs but fuck I just have to gush about the caliber about both of these shows like the attention to detail on Loathe’s second show that I went to was fucking great. I love that I got to check out the Fresno show tho since that was like the FIRST headlining show in the states if I’m not getting my info wrong. 

Big ADHD brain post under:

Even with Loathe being one of my new favorite bands, I just can’t get over how fucking great Volta sounds after the hiatus. It’s like they just perfected everything. Every little nuance that my ear picked up that seemed “imperfect” yet great about their live performances is there but it’s so tight and refined at the same time too? Like the fact that there was a key change to accommodate Cedric’s range and make it easier to just keep this going was such a good idea because he gets to fucking shine without putting so much strain on himself. Omar’s playing just keeps getting better and better it makes me so happy as someone who was originally a fan of At The Drive-In and kind of caustic when it came to the inception of the Mars Volta as a unit. Like I was just so upset because I was a teenager and one of my favorite bands was no more. They had just gotten big at the time too and fallen on my radar because of early internet friends so needless to say my dumbass teenage self was heartbroken by not being able to see them ever again at that time (still haven’t gotten the pleasure to unfortunately, my bestie got lucky for the first reunion that fucker!). But yeah I am just gushing because of hearing the current version of Cicatriz ESP (which is just one of my all time favorite tracks it really got me into Volta and started to convince me that yeah you know these fuckers can still make great fucking music). The new keyboard sections and synth sections during the bridge and Cedrics new passages during it too fit so fucking well. Roulette Dares is always a fucking banger too. It just filled me with joy in a time where I’ve just not had much to be happy about to see them having so much fun on stage too. Interiatic ESP was the best fucking closer and made me fuck up my voice a bit.

Like being brutally honest I thought I was going to be miserable about this experience because of just things I don’t want to further go into (me being a fucking optimist even though I snagged FUCKING TICKETS TO THIS SHOW). It’s a little bittersweet honestly, a lot bittersweet if I have to be honest. I got to see them perform was one thing, they performed a lot of tracks from Deloused (which I just love because this album was just so influential to who I’ve become -- it pulled me away from a group I just wasn’t gelling with put me onto my own thing music wise). I know I didn’t really write much about this experience when I went because I was just kind of happy but sad about it. But fuck man I know part of me wanted to be gushing with you about this shit because y’know sharing this band was a big deal but I also needed to go to this show for me. I needed to do these things for me because I can’t just stop going forward even if you’re not with me. I know I wanted you to be able to like be independent of me for some things but I wanted to be able to do that for myself too which my approach was just terrible at this, but hey what’s new regarding that? I just yeah, part of me does wish we could’ve shared this together still but it is what it is and I need to take the enjoyment I was able to have and treasure it. My brain isn’t really good at allowing me these things, it’s not really wired properly for this and I’ve come to realize that I have to go above and beyond to be fucking happy so I’m just going to try to be happy about seeing my boys Cedric and Omar and my boys in Loathe

[mashpotatoequeen]

Aw man aw man aw man

But can you imagine? Reynie is fourteen, maybe fifteen. He's had a couple of years to get used to Camp Halfblood, he sleeps in the unclaimed cabin - maybe, on an odd week, two nights out of seven, with the rest of the time comprising of sleepovers. He's no Percy Jackson, but he's dependable and smart and people turn to him for answers because he's just. He's nice. And he's so intelligent, but in a way that doesn't make you feel dumb. He knows how to explain things in ways that make sense, which when you have adhd and dyslexia is a BLESSING. New campers flock to Kate because she's fun and cool and excitable, but they tend to stick around and get to know the gang because Reynie makes them want to.

The point is. Reynie is happy. He doesn't have a godly parent to claim him? So what! He has his Amma and he has his friends and he has a place he belongs at Camp Halfblood. He's made his peace with his legacy.

And then.

Somewhere in Olympus, you have Aphrodite, and she has a Revelation.

Oops.

So it's a normal evening, everyone is out and about, getting food, roughhousing, leading the pegasus back to their stables. And suddenly, this big pink dove lights up the sky.

And people are trying to figure it out. Like. Who's the new camper that just got claimed? Except there are no new campers. There's no one. There's just the kids who are already know their godly parents and -

Well.

There's plain, average Reynie Muldoon.

Can you imagine? Like, Reynie is finally at peace and SUDDENLY his entire world is thrown out of orbit AGAIN. Suddenly, people are looking at him, and muttering, and he knows he's average, he knows, he doesn't understand how he's a son of Aphrodite either. And also he's a teenager, which just makes everything worse.

It doesn't stop him from trying to figure it out. It doesn't stop him from uncomfortably packing his bags and dropping them off at Cabin 10. It is very pink. His cabinmates- his brothers and sisters?????!?!?!?- are all baby Gap models and action heroes. He knows them, most of them - he's been at camp regularly for the last few years- and some are even his friends, but this is different. He doesn't know what to do with his hands. He sticks out like a sore thumb.

Someone whispers, "Are we sure this wasn't a mistake?" and another someone hushes them. Reynie grimaces.

(They'll apologise, later. It won't stop it from hurting.)

He sneaks out that night and sleeps with Sticky, curled together on his friend's twin bed. The following morning is the first time in a long time that he gets odd looks for being there. "You have your own cabin now, don't you?" someone asks, not cruel, just curious, and Reynie with all his words still doesn't know how to explain how that's wrong.

Also.

Also.

Aphrodite Cabin has a bit of a Reputation; they're easy with their affections, they're good in bed, a hundred little vile things that are easy to assign to beautiful people because, well, beautiful people can be easy to objectify. And suddenly Reynie Muldoon is a Child of Aphrodite and that means??? He wants people randomly touching his arm or getting in his space or gods forbid flirting with him? Apparently!?!?

Reynie Muldoon does not want this, actually. At all. In general, but especially not because of a giant pink dove claiming him as a son of a love god. Reynie Muldoon goes as stiff as a board for a solid 12 hours straight until Constance and Kate get protective and annoyed enough to start doing stuff about it. Sticky nervously chatters away as distraction as the girls happily traipse their way through camp kicking butt and taking names and in general having a grand swell time.

It's still a pretty miserable week.

And then the Aphrodite camp declares they should run tests. Which is. Fine. Reynie is honestly curious too.

So he actually spends a night in Cabin 10, and he and his new- old?- new brothers and sisters run tests. Reynie is semi decent at putting nail polish on other people and messy at putting it on himself. He does not instinctively know how to use makeup. His siblings ask him about his fashion sense outside of the orange camp t-shirts. Reynie does not understand why they're a little horrified of his description of sweater vests and khakis. His list of 'conquests' is nil. His aspirations for 'conquests' is below nil. Trying to walk in heels almost results in twisting his ankle, but at least it's funny enough to garner a laugh.

Fail after fail after fail. Reynie cannot predict which characters are going to end up together in any romance film or book series. He cannot speak french at will, or convert clothing sizes too small or too large, or change his shape in any way. Trying to identifying perfumes by scent just gives him a headache.

By all decrees, Reynie Muldoon should not be a child of Aphrodite.

By the one decree that matters, he is.

"Well," says one cabinmate, a little girl called Dahlia who has recently turned ten and is positively enthused that Reynie is now her brother. "We can always try charmspeak!"

Everyone looks doubtful. Reynie feels doubtful.

He tries anyway. And. Well. Reynie has always been good at convincing people to do things, but that's just because he's good at reading people and knowing how they work. And because he's read lots of books. There's nothing magical about it.

Or, at least, that's what he's thought.

And that's what gets proven wrong. It's a simple test: someone holds Dahlia's stuffed whale, and Reynie asks for it.

They hand it over every time.

"It's weird cause it doesn't feel like charmspeak," says Olivia, who has been charmspeaked at exactly once but is there resident expert. "Like, I don't want to give it to you because you're overwhelmingly beautiful and I have to do everything to impress you. I just. It just makes sense to do what you asks, when you ask it. If that makes any sense."

Not really, but Reynie doesn't tell her that.

It's out to the entire camp by the end of the next day. Reynie hides with the Pegasus and tries not to hyperanalyse every interaction he has ever had.

(Are his friends his friends, or are they just his friends because he wanted them to be? Did Amma adopt him because she loved him or because he wanted her to love him? He's supposed to be lover of truth, but what if everything he's ever build with his words and his arguments has been a lie? What if he is no better than the whisperer and Mr. Curtain?)

(How does he check? How can he make this right?)

He doesn't know. It's the very worst thing. Reynie just doesn't know.

Thinking about Reynie Muldoon and the song "Good Kid", specifically the part that goes

And no friends And no hope And no mom— She's taken away

[yourlovermori]

Izuku gets hard at the sight of you all hot and bothered maybe for the wrong reasons but still it gets him going. Maybe it’s the way your fallen curls stick to the sheen of your forehead or the way your eyes droop — barely able to keep them open or maybe it’s the way your eyebrows pinch in discomfort at the heat layered across your skin. Hell he doesn’t know what it is, but he does know it has him hard.

You can tell something up by he’s walking a little stiffer than usual — looking in every direction except for yours. “Baby,” you croak throat sore, coughing up what you feel like is your left lung “Why are you acting weird?” and he mumbles something incoherent under his breath making you quirk your eyebrows —well at least the best that you can. He gets the hint and starts rushing out his words in a jumbled mess,

“m’kindahardandiwantyousobadrightbutnowiknowyourenotfeelingwell”

The statement makes your eyes open the widest they’ve ever been the whole day and he’s embarrassed. Looking down at the floor. Twiddling his thumbs. Eyes flickering up to yours just to look down again. Feeling a bit bad for him with his ears tinted a viscious red and poor cock twitching in his shorts. You motion for him to come closer his shadow casting over you, but still managing to look so adorable.

His breath hitches when you palm him through the thin layer of his clothing. Hips chasing after the feeling of your hand till you pull his manhood out of its confinement. His normally pink tip is a shade of red — beads of pre spilling thickly. Desperate for some sort of stimulation. He staring at you with big round eyes that wait in anticipation. Breath pace growing slightly faster with every passing second.

“Here Zuku,” you’re pulling off the sheet “you can hump my thigh,” you offer. And he’s quick to take action. He places himself over your right thigh which is much hotter than usual making him whimper at the feeling on his cock.

Your hand takes rest on his hip pulling him forward and making his manhood twitch with every stroke across your thigh. “Mphm —fuck s-so good,” he’s choking out, mouth falling open ever so slightly. And it’s like he’s entranced. Your sick state has you looking delirious — puffs of breaths leaving your lips a fault of your stuffed nose that he finds beautiful.

The angles his cockhead downward to better hit the plush of your thigh — hands finding purchase on your hips to steady his movements. And when the tip makes contact a loud whine slips past his lips n you’re brushing his bangs out his face, pressing a few kisses to the side of his face. His body hunched over yours and an almost pained expression painted on his face.

His pace gradually quickens. Balls smacking the skin of your leg trying to dig himself into your skin. Rutting against it vigorously to soothe the ache of his balls full of cum. His hands tighten around your hips sure to leave bruises on you in your already fragile state. “N-need to cum fr’you wanna cum for oh god— please,” he’s moans —coming out broken and desperate.

The sound of your hollowed-out breaths and the look of your glassed eyes have him tipping over the edge with a silent scream. Eyes rolling to the back of his skull. Senses blurred by white — knees bucking and head falling forward on your shoulder. Thick spurts of cum coating your thigh — dribbling down on the couch beneath you. His hips twitching forward as you rub his back soothing him through his high. The both of you sharing a kiss that he whimpers into not the least worried about getting sick himself just wanting to feel your lips against his.