#but if you can stomach it they are fascinating

[homeofhousechickens]

Arctic Eggs and CHICKENS ramble

There is a ton of themes and stuff and different interpretations going on in this game but Im going to just talk about the chickens an the stuff i noticed.

To start off, the chickens are modeled after a red sex link production hens a type of hen bred for egg production at the cost of their lifespan. Battery hens rarely make it past their second birthday. Im not sure if the devs chose this breed on purpose or if it was just what a generic chicken looked like in their mind. Maybe they chose this breed because a white chicken would be washed out in the arctic environment.

The game starts with the player looking at the chickens in the cages and it brings up a lot of questions. Why are there so many chickens? Why are we the player character here? After you walk through this poultry prison you are tasked with the job of a poultry prepper meaning you cook eggs. It doesn't matter how many eggs you drop there is always more to fall into your pan. Its interesting to me that there is a surplus of chickens and eggs but their is apparently a food shortage going on in the game.

I think the player character has much more in common with the battery hens then they realize. It doesn't matter though you are greeted with the first line in the game, "Can you fry eggs ontop of Mount Everest?" It seems like and irrelevant question and in a way it is.

This game is quick to show you that you have very little freedom, same with the people you are cooking for. A lot of people are hungry and its not really for food is it? You cook cigs, bullets, beer, sardine cans and cockroaches. Eggs are not the only thing on the menu.

As you play the game multiple people tell you they are caring for the chickens but they are worried about what happens to them when they get taken away. Many seem quite distraught that they aren't being told what is happening to them especially since eating poultry has been banned (but not eggs). Some people still think about eating the chickens but are quickly disgusted by it soon after. One person even said they all "taste like tomatos now"

We can almost see this worry about caring for something and having it be taken away paralleled to the robot prisoners and their cockroaches, one of them weeping over the roaches you cooked for them like they were their own children. We can assume people also get taken away in this game, we see the prisons and the discarded brain in the garbage after all. Maybe this isnt about losing the chickens or the roaches? Maybe the poeple raising the chickens wish to know if they are being eaten?

There is no privacy in this game, people squat over toilets full of feces in front of everyone and the prisoners do the same as the guards watch. It reminds me of the conditions of a chicken battery cage, cramped and full of feces. These people are living very similar lives to the chickens with little freedom to choose how they live.

After feeding the necessary amount of people you go and meet the Saint of Six Stomachs, the supposed ruler/dictator of this place. He is an amalgam of organs and.. chickens? To me It is implied 3 of his stomachs are hens. You see these trapped chickens right before you see his face. Perhaps this is why chickens are banned because the Saint is made up of chickens, maybe this is where the chickens who are taken away go. This part of the Saint's anatomy fascinates me. You go and cook the hens 6 eggs.

Afterwards you are met with the Saint's head eerily making eye contact from their glass container. After cooking his egg he asks "Can you fry eggs ontop of Mount Everest?" He says he never thought about it since it was irrelevant to him. He is right about that, how would someone in his situation even think about doing that, like you and the chickens he is trapped. Just like to the player character it is a nonsense question that is irrelevant.

The credits roll after you grasp the saints hand, you pilot some kind of fighter plane to a mountain where you have a serious crash landing. As you and your friend look over the wreckage (where you may have died in tbh) you ignore your objective of frying eggs since you abandoned your pan at the Saint's and climb the mountain finding a chicken out of her cage perched on a rock. Maybe the chicken is here because you need an egg or maybe she is here because she made the choice to be. It is quite likely the player character will die on the mountain or is already dead.

The game ends after you slowly reach out and pet the chicken.

This game is absurd and challenging. The surreal vibes can kind of make it easy to not take it seriously especially with all the silly dialog but there is something very special about this game and what it is saying. I think it really "gets" chickens as a symbol as well and it was nice to see a game really use them for its story.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

people you know | franco colapinto

🏵️ synopsis: You’re trying to move on after your ex, now a Formula 1 star, becomes famous, but seeing his face everywhere makes it harder than you expected. tags: jealousy, angst, trying to move on after a break up. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) | (around 1.2k words)

part 1

You're sitting in your kitchen on a humid late-summer evening, absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram while waiting for the pasta water to boil. Your timeline is the usual: vacation photos, friends’ engagement announcements, and a few cat memes – until a familiar face stops you cold. You blink, suddenly focused on the screen. It's a post from Formula 1’s official account: “Breaking News! Franco Colapinto to replace Logan Sargeant for the remainder of the season with Williams Racing!”

It’s him: your ex. The same guy who used to fumble with his old beat-up car keys in your apartment hallway, who hated public speaking, who once told you over cheap beer that he'd "never give up" on his dream of making it to Formula 1. 

Your heart stutters. The boiling water spills over, hissing against the stovetop, but you can't look away. 

You swipe to his Instagram account, which has exploded to millions of followers; his latest post has hundreds of thousands of likes. 

There’s something in your chest that feels tight and uncomfortable. Not jealousy exactly, but the uncomfortable sense of having your own little piece of history – the memories only you two shared – thrust out into a space where millions of people could now claim a part of it too. 

He’s no longer just a face in old Facebook photos or an occasional memory triggered by a song; he’s public, untouchable, and no longer yours in any sense of the word.

A notification pops up on your phone: your best friend has sent you a screenshot of the announcement with a simple, incredulous message: “Did you know?”

part 2

Weeks pass, and your life starts to feel like it’s caught in a loop, a strange orbit with your ex at the center. The usual silence in the office kitchen is now broken by someone asking, “Did you see the race last weekend?” and even if you don’t reply, even if you keep your head down and sip your coffee, you know they’re talking about him – the person who used to sit with you in the mornings, groggy and half-awake, arguing over who had to make breakfast.

It’s like the world is suddenly obsessed. Your friends casually bring him up during brunch, mentioning how wild it is to see “someone you kind of knew” becoming famous. Someone at work even asks if you ever went to school together when they catch you scrolling through an F1 article during your lunch break. You laugh it off, saying “No, not really,” and then immediately wish you could take it back because technically it’s true, you didn’t go to school together, but you knew him better than any random old classmate.

His success is everywhere, suffocatingly present, and there’s a part of you that almost wants to scream, “I knew him before all of this.”

One night, you’re out with friends at a noisy bar, the type of place where conversation is half-shouted over the music. The conversation inevitably turns to him, with someone pulling up an Instagram video of his post-race interview on their phone, shoving it across the table for everyone to see. You feel a knot in your stomach as his face fills the screen. 

“Can you believe it?” someone says, and there’s a wave of excitement, admiration, fascination at the table. You force a smile, nodding along, barely hearing the rest of the conversation. 

Back at home, you collapse onto the couch, the sound of the bar chatter still ringing in your ears. You open Instagram, and before you can stop yourself, you’re scrolling through his stories again. His follower count ticks up again. A notification pops up – this time from an old mutual friend: “Crazy about Franco, right? Who would’ve thought!”

Who would’ve thought? 

You close the app, toss your phone to the other side of the couch, and let out a sigh. The world might be captivated by his meteoric rise, but to you, it’s a reminder of what you left behind – what you chose to leave behind – and why it’s harder than ever to look away.

part 3

You didn’t think you’d run into him again, at least not like this. Sure, he’s everywhere now: plastered across national TV, splashed all over the sports headlines, and, yes, even appearing in ads on your Pinterest feed. You’re not going to lie, you did click on his name when you saw it trending on Twitter last week. It was just... curiosity. Nothing more. At least, that’s what you told yourself. So, no, it’s not like you imagined you’d never see his face again.

But you didn’t expect to see him in person.

It’s your sister’s pre-wedding dinner. A simple, cozy evening meant for close friends and family. Nothing overwhelming. It’s supposed to be safe.

And yet, there he is.

You’re standing in your parents’ backyard, glass of wine in hand, just enjoying your sister’s friends laughing and chatting around you. You’ve finally let your guard down, the tension of seeing his face everywhere slipping away for just a moment. Then you hear his voice, unmistakable, from just a few meters behind you.

Your heart stutters, and you freeze, the easy laughter around you turning to white noise. You turn, and the person you’re staring at is different now. More polished. More put together. You wonder if that’s what success gets you: smoothed out rough edges, glossier, shinier, a little less of that boy laughing too loud about nothing in particular.

Before you can even decide how to react, your sister is there, smiling so brightly you’d think he’s the guest of honor. She’s introducing him like he’s always been part of the family, like this moment isn’t turning your world upside down. And, of course, he is family, related to her fiancé, so you curse yourself for not even considering he would make it.

You nod and smile, feeling your face stretch into something polite and practiced, hoping it looks normal. You can barely register the introductions, just fragments: “Remember when he used to talk about racing?” “And now look! He’s actually in Formula 1!” Your sister’s fiancé laughs, as if it’s some incredible, impossible feat. And you want to tell him that yes, you remember it all. Every late-night conversation about impossible dreams, every frustrated rant when things seemed out of reach. You were the one who heard it first, who knew the struggle when it was real and uncertain.

But now he’s here, larger than life and far from you, and you feel like you’re standing in some alternate reality – watching him turn into everything he promised he’d become, without you there to see it.

You didn’t even expect to see him tonight. Honestly, why would you? Your sister never mentioned he’d be here. Later she’ll tell you she assumed you’d know, just like she assumed he’d be there. After all, back when you were still together, the four of you had talked about the wedding a lot. Back then, the idea of him not being at her wedding would have been laughable.

You’ll just nod, swallowing hard, forcing a smile. “Yeah, no, it’s fine. It’s not a big deal.” 

When you text your best friend, all you write is: I think I hate him.

And even as you press send, you know that’s not true. 

You stare at the message, watching the three dots dance as your friend replies: You don’t. You’re just hurt.

[frankensteinzmonstrrr]

The Benefits of Being a Marine Biologist (Part 2)

Part 1 Merman x transmasc reader Contains: getting to know your monster crush Warnings: discussion of top surgery & scars Length: 1.5K words

The next evening, you manage to leave the lab a bit early, mumbling excuses about not feeling well. You weren't exactly lying; the thought of seeing the merman again was giving you butterflies in your stomach. You had slept poorly last night, kept awake wondering if there was any way you could have imagined your encounter with the creature. It seemed impossible, but you knew it all really happened. You remembered the soft, cool touch of his hand against yours.

Grimacing at how slowly you are forced to drive down the sandy gravel road, you finally reach the trailhead. You practically leap out of your car, grabbing your tote bag containing swim trunks and a flashlight.

Once solidly within the privacy of the brush, you change out your lab-safety-approved chinos for your bathing suit as fast as you can, your need to rush of course making you fumble more than usual. You all but run down the rest of the path.

As soon as you emerge from the grass and your feet hit the soft sand of the beach, you see a shape pop up from the water by the rocks. As you begin to walk to the opposite side of the shoreline, your hopes are confirmed: it's Abalone. He waves to you awkwardly, clearly imitating an observed human gesture.

As you walk toward him, you try to quickly study his appearance. Yesterday you were too shocked to observe the finer details of what he looks like. His silvery skin transitions to darker gray shades towards his hands and on his tail, clearly some kind of point coloring. Despite being aquatic, he somehow has what looks like long, dark hair. You wonder if his "hair" is actually spines of some kind. His face is shockingly human, his features just a bit sharper and with somewhat large eyes. Your eyes wander down and you see that he has very humanoid pectoral and abdominal muscles, too. Realizing that you've been staring at him for at least a full minute, you drop your gaze to your feet as you approach the water's edge.

"I brought clothes to swim!" you call to him. You don't feel the need to fully shout, because he clearly had heard you coming from the trail. "I hope it's not too cold!"

You toss your bag and your t-shirt behind you onto the dry sand. As you step into the water the chill bites at your feet, but it's a tolerable cold. You wade out along the edge of the rocks until the water reaches almost to your shoulders. Seeming to realize that any further out would be an uncomfortable depth for a human, Abalone closes the remaining gap between the two of you, swimming gracefully just below the water's surface. You observe that his tail moves from side to side like a fish, not up and down like a whale or dolphin. Fascinating.

Abalone smiles at you as he surfaces and adjusts himself to be upright in the shallower water. You simply look at each other for a moment, both unsure what to say. He breaks the silence with his odd laugh. "You are so short!"

Instinctively you cross your arms and reply, "No I am not! I'm average height. For a human," you add. "I could say that you're so tall... Or long?"

"Fair enough." You can't help but wonder if he learned that phrase from you. "What do you do during the daytime?"

"I go and work as a scientist." You struggle to think of a simple enough explanation for someone who doesn't know what a computer is. "I record all sorts of things about animals and plants from the ocean."

"Very nice. Sounds very nice," he replied thoughtfully. "During the day sometimes I sleep, sometimes I hunt. Not much to do."

"What do you hunt?"'

"All the fish," he grinned. With those sharp teeth, it only makes sense that he's a carnivore. "The bigger the fish, the better to eat. Once I caught a shark almost as big as me. Have you ever eaten shark?"

Abalone seemed to have as many questions for you as you did for him. "No, I haven't. Humans don't really eat shark. Except for in soup, but I'm honestly not sure if that's real."

"Shark soup," he repeated. "Soup isn't real."

"No!" you laugh. "Soup is a real food. It's like cooking things in water."

"What ever," he said, clearly enunciating the two words as separate. That only makes you giggle more.

You look down into the water and notice how Abalone's tail is crammed underneath himself in the shallow depth. "Here, let me go up on the rocks and sit somewhere where you can sit normally too." He doesn't say anything in response, just bobbing along happily in the water as you climb up onto the stone pile and move further out into the water.

When you take a seat on the least offensive boulder, Abalone joins you on the rock's edge. Suddenly, he points to you and says, "You're like me."

"What?"

"You're like me," he says again, pointing to your chest and then to his.

Oh. He sees your top surgery scars, faded but still visible, and is pointing to faint striping on his own torso. "N-no," you stammer. "Those are my scars. I don't have stripes like you."

"Ah. Scars from what?"

"I don't know if you'll understand. They're from surgery... something that had to be done for medicine? For healing?"

"I see." Dropping the subject, he silently moved a bit closer to you and rested his chin on the rock next to where you sat. "You have very small claws."

"I don't need them as much as you probably do." You involuntarily imagine his dark talons ripping through the flesh of his prey.

Abalone reached for your hand and gently pulled at it. You let him lift it towards him. You hadn't noticed before that his fingers are webbed. Makes sense.

He held up his hand flat against yours, and you mirrored his movement. He pressed his palm against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. He gazed in wonder at your hand and wrist, no doubt thinking about what a tiny human you are.

You stared right back at his hand, and arm, and body. His hand is definitely larger than yours, but not by much. He seemed to have the proportions of a very tall man, with a several yards long tail instead of legs. Without thinking, you take your hand from his and reach forward to touch his hair. The fibers are coarser than human hair, as you expected. Your thoughts of what it could be composed of if not keratin are interrupted when you realized that he is leaning in to your touch.

You yank your hand back automatically and begin to apologize, but Abalone grabs your hand and pulls you forward into the water. The cold shocks you, but you still notice that his hand is warm in the icy ocean.

Holding onto you with one arm as if he's not fully convinced you can swim, he turns and points at the sky. "The sun is almost down. Don't stay late."

He was right. Only the last slivers of the orange sun remained above the horizon. "Thank you. You're right, I should leave now."

Still holding your hand, he began to swim towards the shore. You laugh and tell him you can swim, insisting that the doesn't need to drag you along, but he doesn't listen. You can't see into the water very well in the increasing dimness, but you think you see the glint of his mischievous smile.

He releases your hand once your feet touch the sandy floor. "Will you come back tomorrow?"

You open your mouth to tell him yes, but your heart drops when you remember that you have to stay at the lab late for a meeting the next night. "I'm sorry, I can't. I have to work."

Abalone frowns at that, his playful demeanor vanishing. "When can you come back?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe in two days?... I wish there was some way I could tell you when I can come here."

"It's alright," he said, quieter than usual, but then a small smile creeped back onto his face. "I can wait for you here! At sunset!"

"Every day?" you laugh incredulously. "You can't wait for me every single day."

"Yes I can. I did it today and it was easy."

You shake your head in bewilderment. "Okay, if you say so."

"Okay!" he repeated. He reached out toward you and gently pushed you toward the shore. "You need to go home. It's almost dark."

You sigh and start trudging through the gentle waves, twisting around so you're still facing him. "I'll see you soon. I promise."

When you reach the shore and gather your things, he waves goodbye to you in the same stiff, odd way. You smile ear to ear as you wave back.

The walk back to your car is freezing cold, with only the beam of your flashlight illuminating the path, but you couldn't be happier. You had left work claiming illness, but now you feel even stranger than you did before.

Author's notes: thank you so much for reading, and for all the support on the first part! Part 3 will be coming soon. Tip Jar on Ko-Fi

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Smuttttt, horny reader, horny König, sub König, wall sex

Welcome to ending 2!

After how I wrote Ghost in Ending 1, I owe you guys some non-villianous behavior from our favorite Ghostie boy. For everyone dreaming of taking both of these big guys (and not in a fight lol), this ending is for you~

Reader POV:

To christen your new honorary status, the team invited you to join them for EMT training. But though the idea was tempting, you still felt a bit exhausted from sparring. So, despite their disappointed expressions and attempts to change your mind and drag you along, you assured them you’d see them all later that night. As the mess hall emptied and everyone rushed off to their next tasks, you headed back to König's room with him so that he could change into more suitable clothes.

Once there, you hopped onto his bed, kicking your legs as they dangled off the edge.

"What does EMT mean?"

König smiled as he shut the door and headed for his closet. "It means emergency medical technician. For the training, we like to practice things like basic patient care, minor surgical procedures, and how to evacuate fallen teammates. It never hurts to practice. That way, you don't get rusty or forget when you really need it."

He undid his tactical vest and set it down on his chair. All of the pockets and hooks were stocked with a wide array of equipment on both the front and back of the garment. You spotted a few signal flares and a grenade. Beyond that, you had no clue what each of them were for. But if they had earned a place on his vest, they must be vital for his line of work. It was details like these that easily fascinated you. So you stared at it, overcome with curiosity.

"Can I see your vest for a minute?" You asked, timidly.

He looked at you, a bit puzzled. But he still took it in his hand and walked over to you.

"Sure," he laughed. "But it's just a vest. Nothing special."

"I know. It just looks so cool!"

"Just be careful," he said as he set it down on your lap, quickly removing anything he considered dangerous before letting you examine it. "My tools are not just to look cool."

As he headed back to the closet, you sat fully enamored as you took a closer look. You inquisitively fingered the stiff fabric of his vest, exploring hidden pockets you hadn’t noticed from afar. From the way it looked, you couldn’t help but imagine it'd be uncomfortable to wear. But then again, König wore it everyday without fail. Letting your curiosity take full control, you carefully raised it above your head and slipped your arms through their respective openings. Your shoulders sagged slightly under its weight as it fell into place, hanging off of your body like a weighted blanket.

"Oh my god," you giggled. "This thing is really heavy!"

"It's not too bad once you get used to it.” He shrugged, smiling as he looked over his shoulder at you. “But you look cute like that. Now you're really one of us."

You laughed, hefting the vest off again. After carefully placing it beside you on the bed, you looked up just in time to see König pull his shirt over his head. With his back turned, he unknowingly gave you the perfect view at his arms and back. His broad shoulders were toned and defined, the muscles beneath them rippling as he moved. And those arms. You'd never seen them bare before!

He turned to retrieve his vest and immediately noticed you eyeing him, unashamedly checking him out.

"What?" He said, his voice bashful as he returned his vest to its place on the chair.

"Nothing," you whispered, practically drooling as you drank in every detail of his torso. The way his stomach rippled with muscle, the way his chest protruded a bit, casting a soft shadow along the top of his abdomen. And the firm bulge of his biceps framing the entire image on either side.

Your feet moved as if they had a mind of their own, drawing you off the bed and towards him. Your hands responded much the same way, gently trailing over his body as you spoke.

"How much time do you have before practice?"

"About t-ten minutes," he answered, stuttering around a gasp as your hands caressed his hips and your thumbs dipped beneath the waistband of his pants. "You're gonna make me late, Maus."

He closed his eyes, a willing slave to your touch as you tugged him towards his desk. You grinned as you spoke, full of mischief and more as he let him pull him along after you.

"I guess we'll have to be quick then."

You raised his hood just high enough to pull him into a heated kiss. It wasn’t slow and romantic this time. This one was passionate, sloppy, and hungry as your lips collided. Teeth grazed lips and tongues began a dance all of their own as you drank him in. Your desperate movements were like two weary travelers finally able to quench their burning thirst.

König picked you up and sat you on the edge of his desk, lost in the feeling of your lips on his as he tugged at the bottom of your shirt. But you were one step ahead of him, yanking the shirt over your head in one fluid motion. His hands fell to your breasts and he tugged at the fabric. His fingers fumbled for a moment as he frantically searched for the series of hooks that held it in place. But his increasing excitement made the intricate hooks impossible to undo fast enough. So, with an impatient huff, he took the neckline in his fists and tore the fabric with a firm yank.

“König! That bra was expensive!” you gasped. But the protest died on your lips the minute his hands enveloped your breasts and pinched at your nipples.

“I’ll buy you as many as you want,” he panted, his voice gone husky and low. “Right now, I need to touch you. To feel you.”

And God, did he do just that. A hot, wet heat overwhelmed your senses as he hungrily suckled at your breasts. His hands gripped your hips, fingers pressing into your skin and tugging you closer. Your eyelids fell closed as he repeatedly sucked you into his mouth with needy moans. And you moaned right back, clutching his head to your chest and never wanting him to stop. You pressed the palm of your other hand to his back. You would have wrapped your arms around his shoulders. But since he was so tall, his shoulders were a bit out of reach. Though he was hunched over you, his form still dwarfed you by comparison. He was just massive! But you were content to stroke your hand along his side and hip.

You shoved your hand further into his pants, wanting to give him pleasure too. When your fingers brushed against the erection straining against the front of his pants, he jolted with a whimper. König wasted no time to assist you, moaning against your chest as he fumbled with his belt and the fly of his trousers. The minute he was sufficiently disrobed, he tugged your shorts down until he could toss them across the room behind him, your panties quickly following after them. The desk was cold against your bare skin, but that was the last thing you were concerned about at that moment.

The only thing on your mind was the way König’s hands gripped the flesh of your ass as he lined himself up with your entrance. And, after meeting your eyes, he entered you with needy urgency. The abrupt fullness sent your head back against the wall as he groaned at the sensation, quickly developing a steady pace.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck!” You whined as your body stretched all over again to accommodate his length. There was no pain, only immense pleasure as his firm thrusts brushed against sensitive areas buried deep within you. Places no one else had ever come close to reaching before, but that König hit without even trying.

He nestled his face into your neck, the fabric of his hood draping over your shoulder like a cape as he marked your skin with kisses and nibbles.

“You feel so good, Maus,” he ground out through gritted teeth as a light spasm flickered through your core, the added pressure making his body quake in a pleasant shiver. “Du bist verdammt gut. Oh fick mich!”

A precursor of what was to come. A preview of the ending that both of you frantically chased as your bodies writhed against each other. Though you wanted that ending with every fiber in your body, you simultaneously never wanted the moment to end. Your body taking every inch of him, the slap of his hips against your thighs and ass, the way his thrusts made movement ripple through the rest of your body. His hands gripped your ass almost painfully as he pounded into you. As was his way, he kept his movements as gentle as he could. But there was definitely a bit more fervor than before. He really needed this right now. And so did you.

Without warning, König picked you up from the desk. With both hands cradling your ass and supporting your thighs on his forearms, he effortlessly kept you suspended in the air as he returned to slamming his hips against your own. With him now in total control of your movements, you clung to his back and let the sensations sweep you away. Every thrust of his hips, every tug of his arms forced a high-pitched whimper of pleasure from your lips. You could feel the rumbling vibration in his chest as he moaned incessantly. This was it. This was paradise. This was all you needed.

His frantic pace quickly overwhelmed you, sending you reeling into your first orgasm. And König let out a deep groan of pleasure as your inner walls clamped down on him deliciously. Seeing you ride out your climax while still riding his cock drove him wild. And the repetitive spasms greedily sucked him deeper into your depths with every move he made. But he wasn’t quite there yet. He needed more. He needed to feel you squeeze so tightly around him one more time.

He repositioned again, this time turning to press your back against the wall. Only when you were securely sandwiched between the wall and his body did he resume his pace. The added leverage changed his angle ever so slightly, giving him access to new unseen targets within you. And after his first few thrusts rammed against a particularly sensitive area without a single miss, you braced for the second orgasm you knew would soon follow.

“Maus,” he whined, groaning before leaning his forehead against yours and gazing deep into your eyes. His rhythm was beginning to falter just slightly. “I want to come inside you. I want to fill you up and never stop. Bitte, Maus, machst du mich geil. Tell me to come for you, please.”

He was begging? Here you were helpless in his grasp and the furthest thing from having the upper hand in any conceivable way. And yet, this mountain of man was begging you for permission! Pleading for you to tell him what to do. He had willingly given you control over his greatest pleasure and wouldn’t let himself have it without your command. It was startling. It was touching. And God, it was so hot.

You gasped as another wave of pleasure thrashed through your body and König whimpered loudly in response. His length throbbed and twitched within you. But though he didn’t stop moving inside you, he held out and continued to wait for your order.

“You want to come for me?” You gasped, playing along and moving your hand to the back of his neck. Molten heat pooled deep within you as you felt your own climax quickly approaching.

“Yes, mein Engel!” he gasped, his eyes desperate with need. He trembled, his voice strained. “Please!”

“Come for me, König.”

With those few words from your lips and few powerful thrusts, König finally let himself fall into a powerful finish. You clung to him as your body locked up, your core clenching around him repeatedly as it practically milked him for all he was worth. And as the warmth of his orgasm erupted within you, he stiffened and slowly offered a series of short, sharp thrusts. Once he’d finished, a peaceful stillness fell over both of you like a warm blanket. Both of you paused for a moment, gasping for breath as you came back down from your respective highs.

After giving him a tender kiss, you patted his arm to signal that you were ready to be put down. He did so slowly, carefully making sure you wouldn’t immediately fall over as he did. But after a second or two, he let you go and sank down onto the bed with a blissful sigh.

“That was very good,” he chuckled, closing his eyes for a few seconds.

“I agree,” you giggled. After a few wobbly steps, you soon made your way to the bed and joined him in his relaxation. “Do you speak German a lot when you get turned on?”

“A bit,” he said, cuddling up against you. “It tends to happen whenever I’m really relaxed or excited. Or when I’m really scared.”

You laughed, stroking the top of his sniper’s veil with your hand. “Well, I certainly hope you weren’t scared shitless this whole time.”

König took your hand and squeezed it affectionately. “I’ve never felt better.”

[glisten-inthedark]

I decided to analyze the pizza place scene before the ily scene because I’m avoiding it like the plague but now my brain is buzzing

‘Cause it’s been said before that Mike sounds more like he’s gonna apologize here than confess his love for El and I agree

But damn oh damn is his body language here FASCINATING

For one thing he briefly hesitates before putting his hand in El’s and it’s quite a light grip initially

Then when he brings up their argument—which he calls a “talk” when previously he’d called it a “bad fight it feels like you can’t come back from” to Will, bro—he is soooo halting in his speech. He’s so nervous but it doesn’t feel like an excited nervous or anticipatory or like he’s gearing up to say something big-but-positive—a big positive he knows for a fact El wants to hear from him. He’s even told Will a couple times in different roundabout ways that if he had “said the thing” then maybe she would’ve wanted him to go with her, so he knows it’s something she wants to hear. 100% knows it.

And then we get a close up and I swear, he looks scared. Genuinely scared. There’s no tiny smile or hesitant hope in his eyes or anything like that after he brings up the “talk.” The only time there’s hope or joy in his eyes is when El says she missed him, and he looks really relieved (imo that’s likely because her saying that seems to put validity in Will’s insistence that she does need him). But that relief is gone once he brings up the “talk.”

“Oh he’s just insecure!” “he’s afraid to say it and make losing her hurt more!” bullshit and that’s been broken down and analyzed before already so I’ll just move on lmao

Then when he continues and says “I guess” and “I don’t know” and “I just wanted to say” he stops sustaining/maintaining eye contact and can barely even look at her. if he was about to say ily for the first time, wouldn’t you expect eye contact??? Longer than a few brief glances???? And at least look like he’s gathering his courage and wearing a brave face with a bit of anticipation?? Right before they’re interrupted, the look on his face is so somber. Melancholy. He looks guilty.

And right before he says “I guess,” he goes “I—“ and then his shoulders just slump, almost like he’s letting out a huff of breath or felt a wave of anxiety punch his stomach or is resigning to something, and his head does that side-to-side not-shake thing that to me conveys reluctance or hesitation or doubt, I can’t place it exactly but it reminds me of something Joyce sometimes does when she’s anxious. That whole shot when he says “I guess,” is so telling and so FASCINATING how could anyone look at his body language and face in that shot and think he’s about to tell El in this moment that he loves her??

And even if you watch El’s face without the music—she doesn’t look excited to me. There’s no hope in her eyes or smile starting to grow. If you look right at the end of her last shot before Argyle interupts, she looks concerned or like she’s realizing something, but not something good.

The music here tricks you SO BAD, it sounds anticipatory, hopeful, it sounds like we’re in El’s head and it’s her hope swelling a bit—especially because I checked and right when it swells, it’s the Still Pretty track that plays during their almost kiss in season 1, which also got interrupted. But if you look at Mike??? If you look at El without the music??? If you LISTEN to MIKE???? Boy was about to apologize, not confess.

Oh I absolutely love that scene for exactly the reason you pointed out. He was not about to tell her what he knew she wanted it to hear.

The more we break apart everything, the clearer things become.

[thecountoflondonfansite]

Adrian decided to give them a small bit of truth about himself. It wouldn’t reveal anything about his and Henry’s real connection. “Well, I can’t explain why your father and I smell alike though we were probably both carted off together when we were unconscious.” Adrian remarked. He honestly didn’t remember what happened when he was out cold but it seemed like a logical assumption. Lucky for him, Henry agreed with that explanation. “As for the blood part, Amber. I’m sort of part vampire. I don’t feast on innocent lives though.” Which was true in that he only killed people who were monstrous on the inside. “I also have my own source of blood that I obtain.” Henry’s eyes widened at Adrian’s response. “That is astounding. Ye are walking in broad daylight like any other living being. Did your formula have something to do with your transformation?” Henry eagerly inquired. Adrian looked surprised. “You know about my formula?” He asked. Henry blushed in embarrassment. “Ah apologize. Me friend Rachel told me how ye were known as the immortal mad scientist. Her sister-in-law is Queen Lucy aka Cutthroat Lucy. Ah assumed your formula contributed to your immortality and vampire characteristics.” Henry quickly explained. Adrian smiled but shook his head. “Not exactly. I made an eternal life formula and ingested it. My formula was intended to elongate the lifespan of a person temporarily. I already had vampire genetics from my father. I did not realize at the time the formula would increase my vampire side, making it more prominent in my genetic makeup. I don’t have the typical weaknesses of a vampire and the blood drinking is controllable.” Adrian explained. “Fascinating” Henry exclaimed, looking awestruck. “So, why did ye ingest your own formula?” Adrian flinched at Henry’s question, looking uncomfortable. “I…was in a precarious position when I drank it. I’d rather not talk about it.” Adrian replied. “Oh, ah completely understand. Ah am sorry for inquiring.” Adrian shook his head. “No need to apologize. It’s alright. You didn’t know.” Henry smiled, but then frowned as a thought crossed his mind. “Um, Adrian. If ye don’t mind. Can ah ask you to stay with Amber and me self until we head home. Ah don’t want to run into unsavory characters anymore.” Henry sheepishly asked. It was embarrassing to ask another grown adult to stay with them, but Henry was worried about Lucian returning when he deemed the coast to be clear. Adrian looked surprised by the request but nodded in agreement. “Sure, I don’t mind. I can kill some time until you need to leave.” Adrian replied with a warm smile. Utterson had heard tales of the Immortal Mad Scientist, leader of a criminal organization known as the Mad Science League. Utterson wasn’t sure to believe the tales that their leader was an immortal, but now the proof was right in front of him. Gabriel scanned through the article dated around 70 years ago. It said that Adrian Barton was tried and convicted for the murder of a young 16 year old girl named Olivia Rose. The Prosecution and witnesses claimed that Barton used the girl’s blood for twisted experiments. Gabriel felt his hairs stand on end when he read the name of the prosecuting lawyer. It was Corbin Devlin. “I knew that bastard was a demon.” Gabriel exclaimed, feeling vindicated in his claims about the crooked lawyer. His stomach dropped when he read the names of the ‘witnesses’ who testified against Adrian Barton. They were Sir Maxwell Travis, Leopold Brighton, Hastie Lanyon Sr., and Donovan Jekyll. @unhingedexperimenter

Henry felt devastated for his oldest friend. "That's absolutely horrible. I can't possibly imagine what Robert is going through. Even though he had issues with his father, this would no doubt affect him greatly.” His heart ached for Robert. Having lost his father due to a murder. Who could've done that? Was it the same person who attempted to kill Mr. Danvers Carew with the fire which Hyde got framed for? “You said it seemed personal. Why do you say that, old friend?” The lawyer took a moment to answer. “The murder was grisly and there wasn't anything stolen from the crime scene. It sounded more than just a robbery gone wrong. If it was truly that, expensive items would've been missing yet it all remained. I'm honestly shocked that Robert never told you. You two were always so close. Practically inseparable from college.” Henry looked visibly uncomfortable and solemn due to what his friend had said. “Thank you for telling me this. I do hope Robert will tell me about this on his own time. I won't force him or rush him.” Gabriel nodded at that. “Are you going to tell him?” The teacher seemed hesitant to answer that. “I will, once he has his own problems sorted. I would rather not add onto his problems with my own.” While it was true, Henry also didn't want to make things more complicated for Robert. He knew that his best friend had HJ7 and possibly could have ingested it. Leading to his own soul being split. It would only stress him out which could lead to his possible version of Hyde to get better control over him. It would only serve as ammo Robert's counterpart could use against him. “That is quite understandable. You two have been through a lot. Also considering the incident with your former employee. Mr. Hyde. It's been so stressful for both of you.” Hyde felt nervous whenever Gabriel would mention him. It felt like he could so easily uncover who he truly was to Henry. It was why he never appeared around him either. It's not that they didn't trust him. Not at all. As crazy as Hyde thought he was, he didn't want to possibly lose a friend he technically never met. He actually liked Gabriel and knew that the lies Henry kept would hurt the man deeply. It was a shared fear between Henry and Edward. “Thank you for understanding that, Gabriel. Also thank you for helping me.” Gabriel offered him a warm smile. “Of course. I would do anything for my dearest friends.” It troubled Henry. Why didn't Robert say anything about his father? Yet again, Robert did keep it a secret that he had a vial of HJ7 too. Becky looked confused, she had known about the murder of Dr. Lanyons father before he did. She was sure he would've known. Before the young girl could think about it further, she heard a voice calling for her. It was her uncle's voice. She listened to him calling, luckily Gabriel was too occupied with Henry to notice that. She went over to her father and tugged at his sleeve. Making Dr.Two-Brains lean over so she could whisper into his ear. “Dad, Uncle Alan is calling me. It sounds really urgent, I'll be back as soon as possible.” The mad scientist seemed reluctant to let her leave but nodded. “Alright, please don't take too long. Be careful.” With that said, Becky left. The moment she was alone, checking to make sure it was safe, Becky transformed and flew straight to Alan's and Hugh's apartment. She wondered why he called for her instead of going there himself. It must've been something serious. When she arrived, Becky went to the apartment she knew they resided in. Giving the door a couple of knocks before it was answered by Alan. Behind him were the other three of the four. “Uncle Alan? What are the others doing here?” His expression remained stoic. “We wanted to tell you something. We need you to tell your dad to turn his phone on. We have urgent information to tell him. Something has happened. We need to tell him what as well as the information we gained from it.”

Becky looked alarmed at what her uncle had just said. "Does it have something to do with Dr. Barriton?" Becky inquired as she remembered her dad telling her about the blonde scientist. Becky never really met him since the guy was fired when she was a baby. Her dad did describe him as an absolute narcissus and prick who was Athena's cousin. Becky didn't hold it against anyone to be related to that psycho woman since her twin brother Eris was a good person. She held the man's character and lack of morals against him. Alan shook his head. "No, it wasn't Calvin. Have you heard any of the adults speak of a Lucian Bennett?" Alan asked his niece. Becky pondered the question a bit and shook her head. "Not really, no." She answered. "Who is he?" The four looked at each other, not really sure how to explain. Hugh decided to speak about the man and his encounter to a degree. "We are not entirely sure who Lucian is as a person, but we know he is like Edward Hyde. By that, I mean he is the counterpart of someone who took the HJ7 formula." Becky's eyes widened at Hugh's explanation. There was someone out there who had their own Mr. Hyde! "Does Dr. Jekyll know about Lucian?" Becky asked in an urgent tone. The others gave a nod. "Yeah, he is aware of Lucian. He is also aware of the man having his own variation of the HJ7 formula though he isn't entirely sure how it is possible." Jenkins explained. "Listen, Becky. We really need to get in touch with your dad. It's difficult to explain but Lucian had nearly gotten physical with Hugh. We need to tell your dad what we know and what happened. Alan couldn't fly to Henry's house since it would have caused some alarm and we know the others are still recovering from Athena's attack. That is why he contacted you." Patricia explained in a serious tone. Becky nodded as she understood the gravity of the situation. "Okay, I'll get my dad." The heroine then took off back to Dr. Jekyll's apartment. "Where did your daughter run off too?" Gabriel asked. "Oh, she remembered she had to go outside and call her uncle Alan and let him know she couldn't spend the night at his and Hugh's home this Friday since personal things came up." Dr Two Brains quickly explained. Utterson looked surprised at the response. "She had to take her phone call outside." The lawyer exclaimed with a slightly suspicious tone. Two Brains internally panicked. 'Why can't this guy be as dumb as the rest of the civilians in this city.' "Oh well it was special bonding family thing they had this weekend though Becky is no longer feeling up to it. She and her uncle Alan have unique traditions that are not meant for other ears to hear. It shouldn't take to long for Becky to speak with Alan." Two Brains exclaimed. Henry seemed to catch onto the hidden meaning of his boyfriends' words and decided to help cover for him. "It's a strange but endearing characteristic that my boyfriend's family has. They like to keep their personal businesses private, even if it is just regular, family matters." Henry added. Gabriel looked a bit confused but quickly shook it off for now. "If you say so, Henry." He then turned to Dr. Two Brains. "So your brother is dating Dr. Mann?" Gabriel asked Two Brains shook his head. "No, Alan is dating Hugh, but he isn't my brother. He is technically my brother-in-law. He is Becky's mom's sibling." The mad scientist corrected. In what seemed to be a short amount of time, Becky returned inside. "Hey, kiddo. How did your talk with Uncle Alan go on the phone?" Dr. Two Brains inquired. Becky greeted her dad with a smile but Two Brains and Henry could tell that it was faked. "It went well, but he wanted me to let you know to turn on your phone. Hugh and the other four have been trying to reach you and see how you were doing." Becky respond. Two Brains looked embarrassed and quickly pulled out his phone to turn it on. His eyes widened as he saw the missed calls. "Oops. Sorry. I turned my phone off because I was having a conversation with Henry and didn't want to be disturbed." Two Brains exclaimed. @unhingedexperimenter

[dailydemonspotlight]

Barong - Day 25

Race: Avatar

Alignment: Light-Neutral

April 24th, 2024

I'd like to start this daily demon spotlight with an admittance of bias. Barong is my favorite demon in the series, bar none. In celebration of making it to 25 (!!) days of this series, I've decided to let the holy cat out of the bag. Barong is the demon that introduced me to Balinese mythology, has saved my hide several times throughout the series, and has an adorable and unique design to boot. He stands right next to, if not above Black Frost and Chernobog in my book. Past that, though, I would also like to say- thank you all for sticking with me for 25 days! It's been so damn fun, and I plan on continuing this series for months, if not years to come. I know it's a little early for the ivories, but the small community that has been built up over time has given me so much life and energy!

With that sappy stuff out of the way...

Today's demon of the day lies in the form of the great panther, protector of mankind, and host of all things good, Barong. Bali mythology is surprisingly easy to look through, having solid roots and foundations, as well as its origin being in a somewhat small subset of Indonesia, though this isn't to say it's not complex. Balinese mythology takes a unique form, one similar to the worship of Ame-no-Uzume, wherein several of its stories aren't plays nor grand tales, but rather, fascinatingly hypnotic dances. Barong's appearance in these dances is that of a glamorously decorated (and very ambiguous) animal that I would personally say looks somewhat, vaguely similar to a lion?

However, the type of animal it is isn't that important, and admittedly just makes me confused. What is important is Barong's role in Balinese mythology, that being of a protector of humanity itself- in the mythos surrounding Barong and its eternal rival Rangda, Barong represents good health, good fortune, and has reign over all the spirits that inhabit the small province. The most prominent myth featuring the great avatar is recanted in the famous Kris dance, a dance representing Barong battling with Rangda. During the hypnotic trawl, dancers bring swords dangerously close to hurting themselves, though they emerge unscathed, watched over by two dancers in an ornate harness holding up the avatar of Barong who dances furiously behind them.

The dance begins with two monkeys and Barong engaging in dance, though quickly escalates as witches sent by Rangda attack the frolicking group. The dance-drama escalates from there as Barong tries to reign back control over the kingdom, which had found itself under siege by Rangda, eventually leading to the most iconic scene of the play, wherein two palace guards stab themselves with kali daggers in a desperate trance under Rangda's control- though they emerge unscathed as Barong comes to the rescue and engages in battle with the witch, protecting the guards with his holy magic. After a long and fraught dance between Barong and its rival, eventually, the holy avatar emerges victorious, and the kingdom is returned to peace and prosperity.

Barong is not just an artefact of the dance, though- he's an important figure in Balinese tradition, one held in reverence and good spirits, and the dance is simply held to represent the eternal struggle between good and evil, as well as celebrate the triumph of the love and goodness that Barong represents. People equipped in Barong costumes even, on occasion, parade around Balinese towns in order to ward off evil spirits and bad luck. Barong is locked in a never-ending battle against Rangda and the forces of darkness, yet never gives up hope; As a Bali volunteer in the Bali Volunteer Program puts it, "Once the trance is over, Barong and his supporters finally overthrow Rangda. But she does not die. Instead, she reincarnates and Barong must defeat her again. The fight never stops. It is symbolic of light’s eternal strife against darkness."

In the SMT series, Barong is depicted faithfully, though far more blue than red. Decorated in jewels and studded in silver, the Balinese lion dances in combat, easily connecting to the dance-dramas the beast is so frequently depicted in. Interestingly, a common series staple is that of Rangda and Barong's fusion leading to Shiva, and while unconfirmed, I have an idea as to why this may be the case. While Barong and Rangda are from completely different mythologies, they both represent opposing forces of light and dark, something that Shiva, a god of destruction who is not evil, is an inherent blend of- Shiva is both light and dark, good and evil, while Barong is good, light, and Rangda is evil, dark.

All in all, Balinese myth's hypnotic dances and beautiful performances lend to an amazingly designed demon that truly fulfills all it sets out to do, represents an underrepresented mythology, and stands out as my personal favorite demon in the series. Next to Chernobog and Black Frost, of course. And also Parvati. And Mother Harlot. Am I just edgy?

[wisteriasymphony]

every time a tumblr post mlb rewrite mentions the fact that they're taking out marinette's 'obsessive stalker' characteristics an angel gets run over by a steamroller and fucking dies

[beauregardlionett]

the progression of ashton convincing manipulating fearne into agreeing to let him take on the fire shard, kissing her right before she gives him the fire shard, essentially dying almost ten times in the span of a minute while fearne and f.c.g. dump healing magic into him to keep him alive, ashton exploding at one point saved only by a ring that was not meant for him initially, and then finally stabilizing after losing an arm, an ear, and a chunk of his shoulder...i don't think a kick to the head is enough

[thefirstknife]

So I’m listening to a Destiny lore podcast (Destiny 2 - Myths and Ztories) and they’re talking about Cayde-6, his whole life up until his death. They read a lore card from Book: Ghost Stories called A Hero’s Requiem, which is the story of how Cayde was Risen.

I thought I had misheard the podcasters, but Cayde says:

“My brain works, but I don't remember a thing 'cept that I seem to be a functioning life form—I'm human, I'm a man.”

And I’m a bit confused by that. Was Cayde not Risen as an Exo? Or is this just Cayde being Cayde?

He was Risen as an Exo, yes! Cayde was turned into an Exo in the Golden Age, after being basically coerced into it by owing a debt to Clovis. He went through his resets and eventually died as Cayde-6 which is what he was rezed at. It appears he died during the Collapse and had fragmented memories of it happening.

The thing is that Exos are human. An Exo should feel and think of themselves as human; it was a huge part of how they were made. An Exo is a human mind uploaded into a robot body. At first, Clovis wanted to make Exos as far removed from humanity as possible so he didn't make them capable of "humanisms": original Exos didn't breathe or eat or do anything human. Clovis wanted them to be perfect, better than human.

But the problem was that they were still human minds in a robot body and those human minds could not handle having a body that doesn't breathe or eat. They started suffering severe consequences where they would become convinced that they have died. Clovis' logbook details the process of this in the section "-045- Note on D.E.R." Warning for some gruesome medical descriptions. The term "Cotard delusion" mentioned here is a real phenomenon btw (again, warning for medical stuff that might be upsetting).

DER is Dissociative Exomind Rejection. It's a condition that Exos go through where their mind rejects their body and they essentially go mad. It's most easily explained in this old Ghost scan from Mars from back in Warmind; it's explained in a way that isn't gruesome like in Clovis' log. Here it is from him with some extra details. Basically, this is the crux of the problem. The Exos have to feel human and have to be able to do human actions in order to survive.

It was obvious to them that the root of the problem lay in the deficient exobodies I had supplied. Deficient how, I demanded to know. They did not suffer human weakness. They never needed to eat, drink, breathe, sleep, micturate, or dream. Apparently, this was the problem. I had assumed that the need for these irritations would pass since there would be no shortage or accumulation of poisons to trigger them. But evolution's tangled ways cannot be so easily rationalized. I was wrong. Their brains concluded that all of their internal processes failed. No digestion, no breath, no heartbeat, no sense of interoceptive health... all signs of death.

Both of these also mention how resets help to stave off the DER. It's something that helps them acclimate to a new body (this is why they're reset upon upload and why they have no memories of who they were), but also it turned out to be convenient for Clovis so he didn't have to bother helping them in other ways as well as to be able to hide information from them. You can see how this is explained for the public in that scan. Meanwhile here's how Clovis talks about it:

I am much more interested in the surprising success of memory wipes. I became so tired of answering the questions asked by new exos—what had happened to the scanning clinic, how long had it been, would I let them see their families—that I began inducing retrograde amnesia before spin-up. Interestingly, this seems to have improved their resilience against exomind rejection! I theorize the lack of any episodic memories eases the transition into the new body. And the loss of emotional ties prevents grief and stress, which could interfere with healthy function.

Specifically, how he was tired of them asking questions and how the reset basically allows them to circumvent actually providing psychiatric help to people. If they suffer some trauma, you can just reset them to erase it. Cayde is actually a really good case study for all of these issues as he suffered with adjustment to the Exo body and struggled with memories. He had frequent flashbacks to random events from his previous resets and fragmented memories which he tried really hard to put into some logical sense and ended up pretty much inventing a possible life he had. When he talks about his "wife and son," these are fabrications constructed from his fragmented memories of unrelated events. He constructed them in order to feel more human.

The kid. The woman. I do not know them. They are not real. But I wish I did. And I wish they were. They're just the two best cards I could find to keep up my sleeve when the odds were stacked against me. I made them real in my mind and in my heart. I fell in love with the idea of them, and I crafted a truth that allowed me to feel.

So yeah! The way he reacts to being rezed and thinks of himself as "human" is because he is. He had to be, in order to be a successful Exo upload, otherwise he would've just torn himself apart eventually. Exos have to feel human and act human and think of themselves as human. They're still Exo and have clear differences, but at the end of the day, they're humans. It depends on the individual if they would align more with being human or being an Exo; in Cayde's case, he would definitely lean more to seeing himself as primarily human. He was not a fan of the whole Exo thing and had some insight into all the atrocities done by Clovis in order to create the Exos. He was also famously terrified of going through another reset.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Guys if you see something you don't like, if there are dark themes or ideas that I've talked about, or fics that deal with subject matter that you don't like, then please do what's best for you and your mental health and just unfollow and block me. No one has to agree with my ideas or like my content, but I also don't need messages or comments about why you dislike it. I'm making my content for me and sharing it on a platform so it can find the people who do like it. If it's not for you, then it is 100% okay for you to not like it and make sure you don't have to see my stuff again!

But if you go out of your way to message me or send me replies that talk about how you don't like it, then I will block you because I don't want that negativity in my space either.

[hobsyllwin]

So crazy and insane and evil that the most uniquely delicious gummy candy ever is something I can only find at mexican party stores on an unreliable basis

you do not understand. The flavor. They don't really actually taste like citrus? They don't even taste like any other gummy I've ever had. The taste almost reminds me of... jello somehow? Or those weirdly delicious vitamin gummies? Fuck. They're fucking good. And I can't find that taste anywhere else. idk what they're even called past "orange slice gummies". No they taste nothing like these

these make my mouth sting and stick to my teeth and very heavily taste like oranges. completely different candy. a false god. do u get me

[sysig]

idontwannabeyouanymore (Patreon)

[brupara]

While watching Night Mind's Gilbert Garfield VOD I felt the need to put a less disturbing Garf into the world. Y'know. Balance things out.

[paulnewmanlover]

massive love and respect to mouthwashing for continuing the tradition of tumblr popular indie horror games but having read a description of it im not gonna touch that with a 30-ft pole

[rafeandonlyrafe]

whatever you want

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, ab riding, tit fucking, semi public sex, established relationship, cumming in mouth, mentions of future and past sex, lots of talk about rafes muscles, reader is kinda described as having big (or at least decent sized) breasts, lots of banter can these bitches just shut up and fuck oh my goddddd

“again.” you call, almost sounding drunk despite being completely sober.

rafe sighs, rolling his eyes, but the side of his lip quirks up, unable to hide how much he likes your fascination.

rafe flexes again, his arms bulging and pecs tightening. you reach out, smoothing your hands over the hard muscles.

“you're so strong.” you coo, sat on rafes lap despite the hot temperature of the day, which resulted in rafe pulling his shirt off.

"you're acting like you've never seen me shirtless before.” rafe says with a chuckle.

“shh, let me appreciate you.” you shake your head. sure, you've seen him shirtless plenty of times but rafe was bulking up for summer and it caused all his muscles to be deliciously defined.

“alright, whatever.” rafe flexes again, not going to argue too much when he has your hands obsessively touching every part of his body.

your hands move down to his stomach, fingers running over his abs. “if you let me ride your abs, i’d let you do whatever you want to me.”

“you-” rafe places his hands on his hips, sitting up straighter. “you want to ride my abs?”

“yeah.” you nod, quirking your head to the side. “you know, like rub my pussy against them.”

“shit, do it right now.” rafe looks down at your short shorts, barely covering more than your underwear does.

“yes!” you squeal out, hopping up and tugging your bottoms and panties off, not caring that you’re in the backyard and anyone could theoretically come by. “lay back.” you instruct.

rafe lays on the couch, smiling up at you as you climb on top of him. “you’ll have to flex for me as im doing this.” you inform rafe, placing your pussy on his abdomen. “especially your pecs.” you poke his chest.

“you’re such a slut for my body.” rafe chuckles, hands coming to your hips, pushing you further down, feeling your wetness as your thighs spread even more open.

“i can’t help that you’re so sexy.” you shrug, hips starting to move back and forth in a slow rock, carefully building up the pace, wanting to enjoy being sat on his stomach.

you lean forward, placing your hands on his chest for stability, pressing your clit further against his muscles. rafe flexes his muscles and they harden underneath you.

“rafe!” you squeal. 

“i guess you like that, huh?” rafes hands squeeze at your hips and lift up, placing you harder back down on his stomach. “oh, you like that too.” he smiles as he bounces you again and you moan out.

“i really like that.” you hum, eyes struggling to stay open with the pleasure, but you want to keep your eyes on rafe beneath you. its rare he lets you take over like this.

you moan as you both bounce, using your knees to go up and down while rafe assists so you don’t get burnt out. 

you pull your top off, revealing the bikini top you’re wearing underneath, ready to go swimming whenever you’re done playing with rafe, needing to get in the water on this sweltering day.

“jesus, your tits are perfect.” rafe smiles as he watches your chest bouncing, sitting up to rub his face in between your pushed together breasts, the bikini top holding them tight together.

“not as perfect as yours.” you giggle, hands squeezing at his chest, palms over his nipples.

“don’t call them tits.” rafe rolls his eyes as he lays back, head against the cushion.

“well, whatever you wanna call them, i fucking love your muscles. your pecs-” you squeeze your hands again, digging into his soft flesh until rafe flexes and they harden. “your biceps-” you move your hands, and rafe flexes again, his muscles bulging. “your abs.” this time you press your pussy down, rubbing against the contours and ridges.

“you’re lucky that you offered to let me do whatever i want to you otherwise i wouldn’t have agreed to this.” rafe smirks.

“oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow. “what are you gonna do to me?” there’s truly nothing rafe could do to your body that wouldn’t bring you pleasure, you glow just under his attention alone.

“fuck your tits.” rafe smirks, eyes moving down from your face to your chest. “as soon as your done, right here for anyone to see.”

“damn, you could do anything and you don’t want to fuck my asshole or tie me up?” you laugh, expecting something more from rafe.

“you’d let me do all that whenever anyways.” rafe pushes your hips down, grinding you against him. you moan and lean forward, your hands coming back to rafes chest. 

“keep doing that.” you whimper, eyes sliding closed as your mouth drops open, moans filling the air and being carried away by the wind. 

rafe keeps moving, the veins in his forearm flexing as your wetness spreads over his abs, coating them in your slick, allowing your pussy to drag even easier.

“im-im close.” you warn, swallowing thickly.

rafe grunts and increases his hold, tightening his grip on your hips so you can’t slip loose, grinding you down as he flexes his abs, the hardness rubbing against your clit making you moan out, body falling forward as you cum hard, shaking as rafe lets up on you, hands loosening and moving to rub your back.

“fuck.” you whine, snuggling into his chest, letting your hips drop down, feeling rafes hardness pressing against your stomach.

rafe starts to move as you cry out, not ready to do anything more than close your eyes and feel his warmth against your cheek.

“come on, brat.” rafe chuckles. “i wanna fuck your tits while you’re all spaced out from your orgasm. you know i love you like this.” 

you hum a sound thats close enough to agreement that rafe flips you so you’re underneath him, laying on your back on the couch as he stands.

“you’re so gorgeous like this.” rafe says as he undoes his belt buckle, then pushing his pants and underwear down, his hard cock popping up.

“wanna taste.” you whine, eyes still droopy.

“nope.” rafe shakes his head. “we made a deal. i know you like to taste me, but im fucking your tits. take your top off.”

rafe pulls at the strings of your bikini, flinging it away to reveal your pink nipples to the sunlight.

“fine, but will you at least cum a little in my mouth?” you pout as rafe kneels on either side of you, glad that the outdoor couch is big enough for all of these activities.

“sure, baby.” rafe chuckles, just another way of showing how desperate you are for him.

rafes hands land on your tits, palms rubbing on your nipples, feeling them harden against his palms, not unlike when he was flexing his muscles for you earlier.

rafes hands move to the sides of your breasts, pushing them together. “god, you look so fuckable right now.”

“yeah? gonna fuck me later then? maybe out on the boat hm? after you’re done with my tits?”

“the boat, the bed, the counter, the shower, im gonna have you everywhere.” rafe bends down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

you smile up at him, a lazy, tired smile. rafe angles his hips down, the head of his cock pushing against the underside of your tits before slipping in between them.

“oh!” your eyebrows raise, surprised at the unusual feeling, but certainly not disliking it as he begins to move back and forth.

“shit.” rafe grunts. “fuck.”

you swat rafes hands away, pressing your tits together for him. rafe leans forward, hands landing on either side of your neck, his face contorted in pleasure directly over yours.

you look down, eyes watching the head of rafes cock appearing and disappearing between your breasts.

“this is- this is fucking good.” rafe grunts, moving faster. “im- im not gonna last very long.”

you stick your tongue out, rafes cock just long enough to hit it with the tip of his cock as he thrusts. you relish the taste, pulling your tongue back into your mouth every couple thrusts to spread the taste.

“thats it, baby.” rafe moans, one hand moving to your mouth, two fingers pulling at the side of your lip, spreading your mouth wider.

you moan out, tongue open and ready for his cum. rafe fucks forward as fast as he can, just like he does your pussy when you spread your legs wide for him.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say as he surges forward, burying his cock in your mouth as his hand wraps around his length, stroking up and down as he reaches his high, cum spurting into your mouth as you happily swallow.

rafe moans slowly die out and become quieter until hes pulling out of your mouth. “get up my legs are about to give out.” he says quickly, and you barely slide off the couch before he collapses.

you giggle and climb on top of him, pressing kisses to his cheek as his chest heaves up and down.

“im guessing you liked that.” you rub your thumb over his bottom lip.

“yeah.” rafe smiles, his eyes sliding shut.

“so, boat ride now?”

“jesus, woman give me a second.” rafe laughs, pulling you into a gentle kiss.