#electric knife sharpener

[chaotic-pulsar]

Did I just spend $111 on an electric knife sharpener? Yes, yes I did

LISTEN MAN LIFE IS TOO SHORT TO SPEND ON HATING YOUR KNIVES FOR NOT BEING SHARP

[knifetor]

What is a butter knife used for?

When it comes to cutlery, there are a variety of knives that serve different purposes. One such🔪 is the butter knife, which you may have seen at breakfast or tea time. If you’re a knife lover looking to expand your knowledge of cutlery, you may be wondering what exactly what is a butter knife used for. In this blog post, we’ll provide a formal definition of the butter knife and its purpose in…

[goshyesvintageads]

Dormeyer Corp, 1960

[xxstxriesfromashxx]

Tag Dumps ; Ships

Ships / Ship Partner Tags

If we have a ship that you do not see on here, it may be because: i haven't yet found a good tag, i forgot to add it / couldn't find my old ship tags from archive blog and need to make a new one, we haven't really 'confirmed' it and i don't want to force add it (meaning we just need to discuss it being a thing), we haven't rp'ed it in a while (completely my bad) and i'm not sure if you still want it to be a thing (please let me know, i am piss poor anxiety at asking). If you see a ship listed here that you would like to discontinue for any reason, please let me know.

tag format: ship name // muse x muse (partner url) ;; ship partner tag // muse name ; my muse's love

isabethan // ethan x isabelle purefoy (qceensofkings) queen of my soul // isabelle purefoy ; ethan's love fate intertwined our path // ethan x rayne layden (ghostofaformerself) gave me purpose // rayne layden ; ethan's love

your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with light // edward x isabelle purefoy (qceensofkings) my happy ending // isabelle purefoy // edward's love forbidden love // kimberly x eric brandon (ericbrandonrp) the thief who stole my heart // eric brandon ; kimberly's love

love me like you do // katrina x eric brandon (ericbrandonrp) i believe in love because of you // eric brandon ; katrina's love teenage dirtbags // abraham x rayne layden (ghostofaformerself) the girl that got away // rayne layden ; abraham's loves

serene howl // will x trinity wallace (sincerexsiren) the angel in my life // trinity wallace ; will's love howling soulmates // will x sophie hallow (sugarandwhiskey) she took my heart and mended the broken pieces // sophie hallow ; will's love

i'll throw away my faith babe just to keep you safe // silas x alex herman (xseen2muchx) i will live and fight for you // alex herman ; silas' love

bare your teeth and sharpen your knife // isaac x piper beau (sharpenurdamnknife) my freedom // piper beau ; isaac's love maybe our stars align // kazvrall x calista arganan (countarganan) beautiful countess // calista arganan ; kazvrall's love

[houseofknivesaustralia]

Chef's Choice Electric Knife Sharpener Australia - Efficient and Reliable Sharpening Solution

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[southernsmokebbq]

[won4kiss]

── ❝ ꒰ 𝑂𝑁𝐿𝑌 𝐵𝑂𝑈𝐺𝐻𝑇 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐷𝑅𝐸𝑆𝑆 𝑆𝑂 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝐶𝑂𝑈𝐿𝐷 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸 𝐼𝑇 𝑂𝐹𝐹 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸ ﹙ 심재윤 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ suggestive ៸ b2l ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which you and jake can’t ignore your feelings for each other anymore.ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕1559 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not proofread ៸ very suggestive!! ៸ skinship ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 —ngl this was so freaky of me im sorry!!(✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ݁𖥔 ݁˖

YOU NEVER THOUGHT THINGS WITH JAKE SIM COULD BE ANYTHING MORE THAN A FRIENDSHIP.

well, maybe you did—maybe you've thought about it more than you’d care to admit.

but for so long, you've kept those feelings locked away, buried under the bond of being "best friends."

you've known jake for years, seen him at his best and his worst.

you've laughed until you cried at his terrible jokes, stayed up late watching movies, even fallen asleep on his shoulder more times than you can count.

for the longest time, you convinced yourself that what you felt for jake was the kind of love you reserved for a friend—a really good friend, but nothing more.

lately, though, it's been different.

it's not just the little glances he gives you when he thinks you aren't paying attention, or the way his hand seems to linger on your lower back when he hugs you goodbye. ── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ

no, it's the way your heart speeds up when he's near, the way your pulse races when his voice drops low, just for you.

the way your breath catches when his eyes flicker to your lips during a conversation, even if he doesn't kiss you.

the lines have blurred—lines you swore to yourself wouldn't cross, and tonight, they feel like they're disappearing altogether.

you're at one of jake's usual parties, something casual with a few friends, but you can hardly focus on the conversations going on around you.

the music blasts softly in the background, and you're very aware of the dress you chose for the evening.

it's unlike anything you'd normally wear in front of him-delicate, fitted in all the right places, with the perfect amount of skin that makes you feel bold.

it's a quiet statement, one you're hoping he'll notice.

and oh, he's noticed.

from the moment you walked through the door, his eyes had been on you—an intensity behind them that you haven't seen before.

every time you catch him looking, your heart flutters, and you wonder if tonight will finally be the night when everything changes.

when the night winds down, and everyone else says their goodbyes, it's just you and jake left.

the silence in his apartment feels heavy, filled with the weight of unspoken words.

you sit on the couch, trying to play it cool, but you can't help the way your mind is racing, wondering if he's feeling what you're feeling right now.

jake stands in the doorway of the kitchen, watching you, and for a moment, neither of you says anything.

the tension is thick, you could probably cut it with a knife.

"you're quiet tonight," jake finally says, his voice softer than usual, his eyes still on you in a way that makes your skin tingle.

you shrug, trying to act casual even though you're anything but. "just... thinking."

"about what?" he asks, walking over to the couch and sitting down beside you.

not just beside you—closer than usual, his knee brushes against yours, and the contact sends a jolt of electricity through you.

you swallow, trying to keep your composure.

but the air feels too thick, too charged. "you..me, us."

jake's brow furrows slightly, his eyes searching your face for answers. "what about us?"

you take a deep breath, knowing you're standing on the edge of something that could either change everything or break it.

"do you ever think about... crossing that line? the one we've been avoiding for a while?"

his gaze sharpens at your words, and for a moment, he says nothing, his silence speaking volumes.

his hand comes up to rest on the back of the couch behind you, fingers lightly grazing your shoulder.

it's such a simple gesture, but the touch feels loaded, like he's testing the waters, seeing how far he can go.

"every day," jake admits quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "i think about it all the time.”

your heart skips a beat at his confession, and suddenly, it's like the doors have finally opened.

the tension that's been simmering between you for months rushes to the surface, impossible to ignore anymore.

"i don't want to keep pretending," he continues, his eyes locked on yours now, filled with an intensity that makes your stomach twist in anticipation.

"i don't want you like a best friend."

his words hit you like a wave, and you can't breathe, can't think.

it's what you've been wanting to hear, but now that it's out in the open, it feels all too big to grasp all at once.

"i... i don't either," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky and nervous. "i haven't for a long time."

the confession hangs in the air between you, heavy and real.

jake's fingers move to your chin, gently lifting your face so you're forced to meet his gaze.

there's something vulnerable in his eyes, like he's laying all his cards on the table, waiting for you to do the same.

"you drive me crazy, you know that?" his thumb brushes softly over your cheek, the touch sending sparks down your spine.

"every time i'm with you, i have to stop myself from... from doing this."

before you can ask what he means, jake leans in, his lips hovering inches from yours.

the anticipation makes your head spin, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for him to close the distance.

and when he does, it feels like the world stops.

his lips are soft, hesitant at first, as if he's giving you the chance to pull away.

but you don't—instead, you lean into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if to steady yourself.

the kiss deepens, slow and consuming, like both of you are finally letting go of everything you’ve been holding back.

jake's hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer until you're practically sitting in his lap.

his fingers trace patterns on your skin, burning through the fabric of your dress, and all you can think about is how much you've wanted this-how long you've been waiting for him.

when you finally pull apart, breathless and flushed, jake rests his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged.

there's a look in his eyes that you've never seen before, something raw and filled with want.

"you're all i think about," he murmurs, his voice raspy. "every time i'm with you, it's like i forget how to pretend."

your heart races as you take in his words, and you know there's no going back now.

the truth is out there, hanging between you, and you're both too far gone to stop.

"i bought this dress for you, you know," you say softly, your voice trembling with anticipation as you run your hands down his chest. "i didn't buy it for no reason."

jake's brow furrows slightly in confusion, but the way his eyes darken with understanding makes your breath hitch.

"what do you mean?" he asks, though you can tell he's starting to piece it together.

your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as you pull him closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper,

"i only bought this dress so you could take it off."

jake's breath hitches, and for a moment, everything feels suspended in the tension between you.

his hand tightens on your waist, and when he pulls back to look at you, there's a fire in his eyes that makes your skin tingle with excitement.

"you're killing me," he mutters, but there's a teasing grin on his face as his fingers trail down your arm, grazing the edge of the dress.

you smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his jaw, your lips lingering on his skin as you whisper, "then do something about it."

jake doesn't need to be told twice.

in one swift motion, he lifts you onto his lap, his hands gripping your waist as his lips crash into yours again.

the kiss is different this time-deeper, more desperate, like he's making up for all the time you've both spent pretending.

his hands move to the zipper of your dress, fingers fumbling slightly as he pulls it down, the sound loud in the quiet of the room.

your heart pounds in your chest as his hands roam your body, every touch igniting a fire in your veins.

the dress slips off your shoulders, and jake pulls back for a moment to look at you, his eyes dark with desire.

"you're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with awe.

you feel a blush rise to your cheeks, but you don't have time to be self-conscious.

jake's lips are back on yours, his hands sliding up your bare back as he pulls you closer, your bodies pressed together in a way that makes you forget everything else.

it's been building to this for so long-the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the unspoken words.

now, it's all out in the open, and neither of you are holding back anymore.

as you fall back against the couch, jake hovering over you, his eyes filled with nothing but want and love, you realize that this was always where you were meant to end up—with him.

and tonight, everything that's been unsaid will finally be spoken.

© won4kiss 2024

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៸៸ ❝ PLEASE REBLoG AND LiKE .ᐟㅤ 💌

[caitified]

experience

paige bueckers x reader

warnings: slow burn then smut. this is probably my most requested fic, period so i hope this is ok. still not the best smut writer.

"hey, rookie," the voice called out from across the crowded locker room. paige leaned against the metal frame, a smirk playing on her lips as she assessed the newest addition to uconn's women's basketball team. you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves at the sight of the star player. her reputation preceded her - a force on the court, and even more so off of it.

you, the rookie, blushed under the scrutiny, fumbling with your gear trying to vacate the scene as fast as possible post practice. "hi," you murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. your heart raced as the whispers grew louder around you. you knew the stories about paige, the rumors of her endless conquests and fearless charm.

paige pushed off the lockers and strolled over, her confidence radiating with every step. "why so nervous rookie? you did good" she said, grabbing your hand. "everyone’s saying good things." her grip was firm, her eyes piercing, making you feel both seen and insignificant at the same time.

you took a deep breath, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "y-yeah," you stuttered, shaking her hand. "i'm just trying to fit in."

a knowing smile curled her lips. "well, i can help you with that." her tone was playful, yet there was an underlying seriousness that sent a shiver down your spine. "i'll show you the ropes, take you under my wing."

the first weeks of training were intense. paige was a relentless coach, pushing you to your limits and beyond. her methods were unorthodox, often leaving the other players bewildered, but she had an uncanny ability to draw out potential that others didn't see. you found yourself improving at an unprecedented rate, your skills sharpening like a knife under her watchful eye.

but it wasn't just on the court where she had an effect on you. her charisma was magnetic, and you couldn't help but be drawn to her. her stories of late-night escapades and wild adventures made you feel like you were living in a shadow of her vibrant life. you'd listen intently, blushing at the more risqué details, while she'd throw her head back and laugh, the sound echoing in the quiet gym.

one evening, after a particularly grueling practice, paige suggested you grab dinner together. just the two of you. you agreed, eager for the chance to get to know her better, away from the prying eyes of the team. as you sat across from her at a dimly lit diner, the air grew thick with a tension you didn't quite understand.

her hand reached out, brushing against yours on the table. "you know, you're different from the others," she said, her gaze intense. "there's something about you that's... pure."

your cheeks grew hot as you avoided her eyes. "what do you mean?"

leaning in, she whispered, "you're a good girl, aren't you?" her voice was a soft caress that sent a thrill through you.

the question hung in the air like a challenge. you nodded, unable to find your voice.

her smile widened, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "i have a feeling this season is going to be more interesting than i thought."

the conversation shifted gears, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that something had changed between you. the way she looked at you now was different, a new kind of curiosity in her gaze. it was thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.

as the days went by, you found yourself spending more and more time with paige. she'd invite you to her off-campus apartment, where you'd watch movies and share stories late into the night. sometimes, her hand would rest on your thigh, sending waves of electricity through your body. each time, you'd tense up, unsure of what to do, but she'd just laugh and squeeze gently, as if reassuring you that you were safe.

the tension grew palpable, and you began to wonder if the rumors about her were true. if she had any intention of adding you to her list of conquests. yet, she never made a move, never pushed you further than you were comfortable with. instead, she'd pull away, leaving you feeling both disappointed and relieved.

then came the night of the first big home game. you'd been playing better than anyone could have predicted, and the crowd was electric. after the final buzzer, as you walked off the court drenched in sweat and adrenaline, paige was waiting for you. she pulled you into a hug, her strong arms lifting you off the ground.

"you're a natural," she murmured into your ear. "and i want to be the one to show you everything."

for a moment, you were suspended in time. her words resonated deep within you, igniting a fire you didn't know existed. and as she set you down, her hand lingering on your waist, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you wanted her to.

you tried to ignore the feeling, to focus on the season ahead, but it was like trying to ignore the sun in the middle of a bright summer day. it was there, burning and inescapable. you began to crave her touch, the way she'd look at you when she thought you weren't watching. her confidence was contagious, and you found yourself wanting to be more like her, to experience what she had, even if just a little.

one night, as you lay in bed, unable to sleep, you made a decision. you texted her, your heart racing with each tap of your thumbs. "do you... want to come over?" the message hovered, unsent, for what felt like an eternity before you hit send.

her response was almost immediate. "on my way."

your stomach flipped as you waited for her to arrive. you straightened your dorm room, trying to make it look more welcoming. when the door finally creaked open, she stepped in, casual in sweatpants and a hoodie, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"couldn't sleep?" she asked, shutting the door behind her.

you swallowed hard. "no, i... i had some things on my mind."

she sat down on the edge of your bed, her eyes searching yours. "what's up?"

you took a deep breath and leaned in. "i want you to be the one," you whispered. "i want you to show me everything."

the room seemed to still, the only sound the thundering of your heart in your ears. her gaze softened, and she leaned closer, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. "are you sure?"

you nodded, your eyes never leaving hers.

her smile grew gentle, and she leaned in, brushing her lips against yours in a kiss so soft, it was like a promise.

as her lips left yours, paige’s fingers find the waistband of your shorts pulling them down below your thighs.

your breath hitches with anticipation, your body aching for paige’s touch.

her face breaks into a smirk, teasing you further. “you sure you want this baby?” paige whispers, the nickname sending an immediate blush to your cheeks.

“yes i’m ready. i trust you”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤyou stared at paige with bright eyes and she nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. she maintained eye contact with you as she leaned down and flicked her tongue against your clit.

you let out a loud moan at the feeling of her warm tongue against you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

paige lifted her head to warn you, “tell me to stop if it hurts, yeah?”

before you could respond, paige thrust her finger into you relentlessly, beginning to pump her finger into you”

“fuck, paige.” you moaned out when her finger grazed your sweet spot.

she continued her pursuit as she began curling her fingers, testing out what got her the greatest reaction. she wanted to memorize every inch of you for future purposes.

when you had almost reached your climax, paige hastily removed her fingers from you.

your eyes flew open. “paige please, don’t tease.”

smiling, she went back to licking at your clit, and the combination of that and her fingers sent you off the edge and you struggled to catch your breath.

as you settled down, she removed her fingers from you, pulling you into a kiss.

both of you knew you had a lot to discuss, but that could wait until morning..

i didn’t proofread this as i thought it was terrible but i can continue it if people would like.

[gretavanlace]

Animosity

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, unprotected sex, aggression, arguing, name calling, digital penetration, dirty talk, pet names, etc.

Porn without plot. Arguably an extended blurb, but we have much to celebrate! so my gift, on the eve of Starcatcher, is smut. I love you all! Shout out to this crazy hot request!! Thank you, anon…we adore you and your beautiful mind ❤️

“So, you’re just going to walk away from me? Like what I have to say means fuck all? Like I mean fuck all?” He sinks further back into the couch, crossing his arms like a sullen, bad-tempered child.

“No, Jake,” you snipe right back. A cruel, dismissive edge sharpening your tone until it slices through the anger-choked air in the living room like a rusty steak knife yanked from the back of the drawer. “I’m just sick of listening to you run your mouth about shit that doesn’t matter. I pissed you off. Fucking enthralling story, can you tell it again?”

“You’re tired of listening to me, or you want me to tell it again?” His boots slam down on the coffee table just to pluck at your nerves further. “Make up your fucking mind, sweetheart.”

Christ, you don’t know that you’ve ever been this furious with him, though you really can’t even remember why. It’s been all day. Back and forth. Bitter bickering. Button pushing. Poking and poking, until it feels like the energy between the two of you could break apart with fevered electricity.

“Fuck you.” Is all you can summon. It hisses out of you as you spin on your heel to find solace in the kitchen…the closest room where he isn’t.

With more force than would ever be necessary, you’re throwing open the refrigerator door, fingers wrapped around a bottle of water, when you feel his arms wrap around you, tugging you away from the task at hand with a quiet grunt low in his throat.

The bottle clatters to the floor with a bouncing thud, as you’re pressed against the counter. You’ve hardly had a blink to register, but his hand is fisted in your hair and squeezing against your scalp until it stings like delicious fire. “Fuck me?” He hums, soft and saccharine. “But you seem so angry with me, kitty cat. Seems like maybe you might even hate me. S’that what baby wants? A little hate fucking?”

“Jake, stop!” you snap, with an elbow digging into his stomach, unwilling to let go of your upset even though your thighs are clenched and aching to spread wide for him.

“Have you forgotten your safe word?” The heated query growls into your ear, though he already knows what the answer will be.

Your teeth are clenched - but with wrath or lust, you can’t be sure, “No.”

“Fucking use it, then.” His thigh is between yours now, shoving your legs open further apart exactly the way you’d longed for just moments ago.

“No.” You repeat, once more, even nastier than before. It physically pains you to give him the upper hand, but you love it, too. Fuck, how you love it.

“Oh,” you can hear the smug, cocky, fucking smirk in his tone. “So, my angry little kitty cat wants to be stroked. Is that why you’ve been so goddamn irritating all day? Pretty girl wants to fuck?”

You arch your back, pressing against him in the hopes that he’ll just go ahead and shut up. That he’ll go ahead and destroy you right there at the counter like a whore. Like his whore.

Your silence won’t do for him, and a swift tug at your tangles tells you so, before his voice rasps into the night. “Is that it? Does pretty girl with her pretty wet pussy want to fuck?”

The feverish nod against his clutch comes before you can stop it.

“Say it.”

Oh, fuck you, Jacob. Smug little bastard who can’t let the opportunity to make you taste his victory, pass.

“Hmm-mm,” you moan out, shaking your head, lips squeezed into an impossibly flat line to bite back the flurry of obscene pleas that threaten to tear out of you.

“Okay,” he’s taunting now, and you know you’re in trouble before you’ve even felt his fingers creeping beneath the hem of your panties. “But look at this. You’re dripping. Don’t you want to drip, all filthy and gorgeous, all over me? All over my cock?”

“Yeah,” it shivers out of you with a wanton desperation that should make your cheeks flush with shame. Instead, your entire body flushes with need.

He stands firm and sickeningly sexy “Then say it. Do as you’re fucking told, kitten, and I’ll make you feel good, promise.”

Every ounce of fight drains from your body as you relax down against the butcher's block countertop, and you know without a doubt you’ll need to be careful not to rake tracks into the wood once he’s buried inside you. Careful not to claw marks where you shouldn’t. Careful not to live up to the pet name he only trots out when he’s feeling particularly nasty.

“Say it, baby.” He presses, petting your hair so gently you sigh.

“Pretty girl wants to fuck,” you’re nearly panting between words, but you can’t help it, nor do you care to. Let him hear what he does to you. Let him bear witness to the depravity he sets free to boil through your veins. Let him see.

“Good girl.” He slips the pad of his finger over your slick clit, groaning at how swollen you already are. How ready. How fucking needy. All for him. “Say it. Who’s my good girl?”

“I am.” Your hips are circling and rocking into his touch…you need more, more, more. “I’m your good girl.”

“Yeah, you are.” He nods, forehead resting at your shoulder. “Such a good girl. So, why do you insist on being so fucking bad? Naughty, mouthy little witch. Fucking heartless.”

His touch teases at your entrance, waiting, gentle and nearly still, until you fuck yourself back onto them, slipping him inside with a roll of your hips. “Oh, fuck yes, kitten…just like that. Baby thinks she’s just gonna take what she wants, but she’s wrong…” his voice is quiet, yet melodic. He’s almost singing to you, teasing you, baiting you along with a blissful, bullying, air.

“Whose pretty pussy is this?” He rasps, toying with you.

“It’s yours, Jake.” You purr, arching and trembling. “That’s your pretty pussy.”

“It’s yours, Jake.” He mocks, all high pitched and airy. You half expect him to pull your hair and call you names. To shove you down and skin your knees…and you’re not ashamed to admit, you wouldn’t hate it.

“Tell me you want to feel my fingers inside your greedy, soaked cunt.” True to his role, he snatches your head back by the strands of your hair still locked in his grip. “Tell me you want me to finger fuck you until you cum all over the kitchen tile.”

Your will power has vanished, as though it never existed to begin with. Where is all that fight that once burned in your belly? “I want it…” you’re breathless, whining like a slut, spread out on the counter, tongue sweeping out to curl against the wood because you just need to fucking taste something, anything.

You carry on, happy to complete your pornographic request, if only to make him as weak for you as you are for him. But, he is weaker for you, always…you just can’t ever seem to see it. Instead, his palm covers your mouth, strong and sure.

“It’s cute that you think I really want to hear it. Adorable, even, kitty cat.” He sounds hateful, but you hear the devotion behind the facade, he’s happy to be here with you, wrapped up close, no more angry, blistering space between your bodies.

“I’ve listened to you enough today, don’t you think?” His teeth sink into your earlobe until your knees buckle with a whimpered hum.

“Oh, now you’ve got nothing to say?” His accusation is gritted out between the clamp of his teeth at your ear, sending blazing chills down your spine to curl your toes against the frigid ceramic. “You wanna stay quiet now? Alright then, whatever you want, baby girl. Quiet it is. I’ll help you with that…”

His grip is suddenly iron clad around your throat, squeezing until your gasps rasp and your eyes roll back. His opposite hand is at your mouth, fingers sliding against your tongue, nudging into your throat until you’re silencing a gag.

It doesn’t matter, he feels it. “Be glad it isn’t my cock, shutting this pretty mouth up. Be grateful you aren’t fucking swallowing me and praying I’ll let you breathe.”

You aren’t grateful at all. In fact, you’d give just about anything to be on your knees for him…

And he knows it.

Like a cat in heat, you slink further down, presenting and preening. You want more. You need more…

And he knows that, too.

���C’mere,” it growls out of him, low and rumbling like a feral animal descending upon stalked prey - and before the shudder has even finished shaking through your taxed system, he’s gathering you up in his arms.

Small in stature he might be, but the strength in his grasp has never failed to amaze you. Now, as he jerks you around until you’re caged in his embrace like a writhing doll, is certainly no different.

“Are you sorry, kitten?” He hisses, manhandling you as he throws a dining chair away from the table and spins it just so. “Are you sorry for making me throw you around like the insubordinate little fuck slut you are? Are you sorry for making my cock so hard? It aches for you…it wants its pretty, pretty baby, with her pretty, pretty cunt.”

Down he lumbers, positioning himself on the chair with you, held up away from his lap, watching with rapt attention and a watering mouth as he violently tugs his pants open without care.

And then, there it is, his beautiful cock. Flushed and pulsing. Flexing fiercely and bobbing in the air so pink, so thick, so slick at the blushing crown, so fucking captivating. You can’t take your eyes off of it, and why would you ever want to?

His hands are ripping at you, tearing your panties off ruthlessly until the silk burns across your skin leaving strawberry pink welts in its wake…pulling at the neck of your tshirt until it, too, gives way to his madness and rips apart enough for him to unleash his mouth against your breasts.

It’s a flurry of perfect teeth burying their way into your nipple, the delicious pressure of his lips and tongue, wet, warm, and sucking, as your fingers twist in his hair, crushing him closer to you. His moans are muffled and unidentifiable against the goosebumps he has raised upon your skin.

“Jake, please.” You’re rocking at the air, as still, he holds you away from his lap. “Please please please…”

“That’s it, kitten.” He sounds self-satisfied and disgustingly content with your despair. He’s such a prick when he gets this way, and fuck if you don’t absolutely live for it. “Beg for my cock like a whore. Beg for me to fill your sweet, slutty, cunt. God, look at you. Fucking gorgeous.”

But, rather than beg, out comes the pout he can never seem to resist. “Give it to me.” Your puckered bottom lip tucks between your teeth as you stare down longingly at the prize your body longs to swallow up. “Fuck me, Jake…fuck your kitten. Please, baby?”

“You fuckin’ brat.” He snaps, but his arms loosen, allowing just a hint more freedom to your movement. “Spoiled little thing isn’t playing fair.” He tugs your mouth open and licks against your tongue.

“Go on, then,” his palm, warm and insistent, cracks your ass cheek, hard and firm. Milk chocolate eyes dancing wildly when you suck in a sharp gasp. “You want it so badly? Fuck me. Kitty wants some dick? Kitty can fucking work for it.”

Your hips lower without hesitation and rock this way and that until the tip of his cock is resting at your entrance. “C’mon, kitty cat,” he coaxes like the arrogant prince he likes to pretend to be. “Fuck me.”

Without preamble, without thought for angle, or the consequence of pain, you sink down around him all at once. Sucking him in, hot and snug, tightening around him with a wail of relief as your head tips back until you're crying out to the ceiling.

His face is hidden between your breasts, mouth searching, tongue lapping at your skin as he groans and murmurs your name. “You feel so good, baby girl. So fucking good. Too fucking good. Fuck…fuck…”

Back and forth his pretty face nuzzles, his mouth searching out places to mark you, sucking bruises into your tits as you shove them further in his face, silently begging him to brand you.

But as he grows louder, he begins fighting back to the surface, shaking off your riptide in favor of that delectable dominance he favors “Faster.” He orders, both hands taking hold of your throat just hard enough to make you writhe. “Do it, baby. Come on…” there’s that teasing, coaxing tone that sets your entire body alive in white hot, licking, flames. “Come on. You know how to do it. You know how to fuck me, c’mon.”

Harder and faster you ride him, clutching at the back of his chair for leverage until your knuckles are ghost-white and your nails are screaming, threatening to snap off in the wood.

“Good girl…” his grip is twisting so gently around your neck as your keening moans vibrate into his palms. “Good fucking girl. Say it.”

You know what he wants, and so he shall have it. “I’m a good fucking girl.” They are hardly words at all, more like breathless whines, but they do just fine for him.

“Yes, you are, kitten, yes you are.” Now one of his hands is at your cheek, cupping it as agonized tears streak into his palm…you’re just so fucking close. “And you’re gonna be a good girl and fuck me until I cum, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…” it’s ineloquent and cut off by a shaking moan, but you’ve never cared about anything less.

“Yeah, you are. Make me cum, kitty cat. Come on, make me fucking cum…”

This time, it's his words that drift off into incoherent, desperate whines that flip your stomach and trip you over the edge. You finish, hard and fast, lulled by the obscenities tumbling off of his filthy tongue.

“Please, baby…” he’s clutching at you now, thrusting up to meet you so forcefully you absently worry he might tip the chair over, toppling you both to the floor. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna, oh fuck…”

His teeth catch your shoulder through the tattered remnants of your shirt, gnawing at your flesh as grunts and wails and growls of release seep into your skin.

Finally, though you wish it would never end, his arms fall slack, swinging at the sides of the chair, as his mouth soothes over the bites he’s left you with.

“God damn, baby girl…” he laughs softly, kneading softly into the screaming muscles of your thighs. “Thought you were gonna fuck it right off.”

“Shut up,” you giggle, quiet with exhaustion. “Take me upstairs and take care of me? I’m sleepy.”

Without a word, you’re gathered up in his arms. You know you’ll be tenderly deposited at the foot of the stairs, to navigate them on your own, with your hand held in his…but that’s perfect, you’re always happy to let him lead the way.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @jakesgrapejuice @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @mckenna4 @tripthelight-fanfic @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sad1lynn @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie

[takami-takami]

Cut To The Chase.

kinktober day 2: knife play

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut.

warnings— afab!reader. heavy knife play. discussions of piercing, but no actual cuts. still, this is a knife play fic. be warned. gags. bullying/kinkshaming. praise kink. aftercare.

"You're shaking, dove," Keigo whispers above you. "Relax a little for me, yeah?" 

The rhythmic beat of your heart pounds in your ears. The heady bass of it hammers behind your ribs. A single drop of perspiration crawls its way down your neck like a snake might slither down a tree, hissing sharp against the searing heat of your skin. It bobs with the swallow in your throat. It glistens with your tremors as you writhe so subtly against the silken sheets.

And there’s something about the way your life rests in your partner’s steady hand that surges the adrenaline screaming within your veins. It sings a chorus through your chilling blood.

The quirk of his lips is practically audible when he speaks— infuriating, even; but his appraisal of the situation is undeniably on point.

Of course you’re staring. Twisting and gliding along the edge of your skin, just the lightest squirm away from piercing through your flesh, is the tip of something sharp, icy, and unfathomably lethal— had Keigo been in a more dangerous mood and blindfolded you, the object would feel indiscernible from the steel of a curved dagger, the crescent point pressing the slightest divot into the skin of your navel. 

Even the light reflects with a glint off his feather as if it were metal when it’s sharpened like this.

“You actually like this sort of thing?” Keigo interrogates you, raising his brows. A scoff of disbelief follows quickly behind the inquiry, the heat of his breath fogging against your neck when he noses your jaw. Achingly slow, the scarlet weapon drags up your core, crawling its way toward your utterly exposed chest. 

He could pierce you at any moment. One flick and the skin could burst, one breath and your body would become a canvas to his liking. It's a dance of trust, of control, when he plucks that velvet red feather between his thumb and forefinger as if it were merely a pen to be dipped into ink.

“Your heart rate's pickin' up. It's gonna give you away, dove,” he observes, skimming the skin at the exact spot where he can sense the beat. He drags the feather in circles, a melody in his voice when he sings, low, taunting, and dangerous: "You like this."

“Don’t even care that I could just slip it a little deeper, do you," he realizes, increasing the pressure of the feather against your hammering chest. He can barely hold the click of disappointment from his tongue when you whimper in response. 

"Nah. That’d just get you wet, wouldn’t it?”

You see the flash of reflected light under your chin before you can feel the feather against your neck— the metallic sound of the blade cutting through the air rings in your ears, louder than the hitch of your breath from the whirlwind speed of his actions.

“Oh, you like that?” 

Keigo doesn't bother to suppress the laughter that builds and erupts. Why would he? He'd place a hefty bet that someone like you would hear a condescending sound like that and feel it like electricity instead, jolting down to crackle between your poor, trembling legs.

You're so fucking predictable. You like a bit of danger, and Keigo is more than willing to indulge your little fantasies in the only way he knows how: famished, unreserved, and entirely committed to every intricacy of his role.

Besides, he'd be lying if he said this little image of you wasn't absolutely gorgeous; you, the picture of prey spread beneath him under the shadow cast by his wings, blubbering and unsure if you want to beg to be pierced by his feather or his cock.

When he slips two slicked fingers inside to scissor them, it's entirely unsurprising that your body opens easily to accept them; so unsurprising, in fact, that his eyes roll almost as immediately as yours do, though he wears a smirk rather than a slack jaw. 

The heel of his palm graciously grinds against you each time he bottoms out, the motion made with each rocking thrust expertly positioning his curled fingers upwards. Ever intentional, the heel presses firm against your throbbing core.

When he speaks, you get the impression he's moreso musing to himself than addressing you. 

"And what if I fucked you like this, huh? A cock in your pussy and a knife at your throat… Sounds like your own personal heaven, doesn't it, angel?" Keigo punctuates the last word with a mocking lilt, pouting in bastardized sympathy to match your wobbling bottom lip.

"Aww, not gonna bother answering that?" He smiles and pulls at the fabric stuffing your drooling mouth. "C'mon, speak. Wanna hear you when you break for me, 'kay?"

You swallow dry before you attempt to catch your voice, gasping in a bit of air as you arch your chest and whine some garbled words Keigo can only assume are supposed to resemble a beg. 

"Oh you're close to close," he posits through a smile, just loud enough to be heard over the noise of his drenched fingers that pump knuckle deep and curl up. "It's okay, baby. Let it out. I've got you. Cum on my fingers, c'mon baby, cum f'me, you're such a good—"

Your back bows when your world shatters. His sweet words never cease, pouring praises over your body like the heat that envelops you, over and over in trembling waves.

The first thing you feel when you float down from your high, catching you like a feather landing slowly in his palm, is a methodical barrage of kisses against your cheeks. Feather discarded, Keigo holds your face in place with cradling palms, crooning at the far-gone smile that remains etched in your expression.

"Hi, baby," he whispers, lopsided smile wide as he pulls back and thumbs the apples of your cheeks, smooshing them in little clockwise circles. "Still with me?"

"Hi, Kei'," you simply mumble, words as sluggish and limp as you are; and just like that, your partner is solid and stable once more above you. 

When words elude you, your body begins to speak instead. Your fingers crawl down his biceps and up his neck, nestling in the thickets of his hair and clutching at the scalp as if to settle your own roots there for stability; and on the inside, Keigo's heart trips over itself. Your very center is open to him, pawing at his body and swallowing everything he gives you— and he'll give it all.

Clear eyes attempt to catch your bleary ones, searching for signs of discomfort as you continue to cling to the haziness that envelops your mind. Once he's thoroughly checked for any nicks or scratches, your body is laid back against the sheets.

"C'mon, pretty bird," Keigo whispers, rubbing the highest points of your cheekbones. "Gimme a smile, yeah?" 

When you do, it's with a glaze in your eyes, gazing up at him like he's a newfound city of gold.

"That good, huh," he teases, and you yawn. There's a rich, golden butter in his voice when he speaks. It's warm like the sheets he rolls you both up in, hot like his bare chest against your back when he lays you down to cuddle. 

"I wasn't too mean, was I?" 

"You were perfect for me," you sigh.

The plush of his feathers shudders once in the corner of your vision. He rests his chin along your bare shoulder, clutching your body as close to his chest as it can go.

"You're perfect for me, too."

[asexualbookbird]

You're trying to cut a watermelon. You've seen others do it with ease but it's just not working for you. You don't know what's wrong. You ask around, get some advice.

"Try this non slip cutting mat" someone says. But slipping isn't the problem. The watermelon stays still it just won't cut.

"Use a larger knife" another suggests, but all the large knives are too big for your hands and you end up cutting yourself. "Well I don't have that problem, and I've never heard of that happening before" someone says to you, as your hand is bleeding.

You go to a professional. They look at your watermelon. "Oh I see the problem," they say "Your watermelon rind is much thicker than most peoples, here let me use my chefs knife and cut that for you!" Finally. You can enjoy your watermelon. Life is good.

You get another watermelon. It's kind of hard to cut, but somehow you manage. You get another watermelon. By now, you know when to recognize a Thick Rind, so you go back to the Professional and ask them to cut it for you again. "I don't understand," they say "I cut your watermelon already you shouldn't need me to do it again. Just sharpen your knives." You tell them you've done that but no matter how sharp the knife is, it just won't cut through the watermelon. They tell you to get a bigger knife. You still can't cut your watermelon.

You turn to unorthodox methods. You find an electric carving knife. It gets the job done, but it's incredibly messy and unpleasant. The watermelon is not enjoyable, but you manage. You get another watermelon. You go back to the professional when you can't cut it. They're appalled when you tell them what you did to your last one, and ask you why you didn't just sharpen your knife.

You just wanted a watermelon.

[houseofknivesaustralia]

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[multipleheartbreakhotels]

I Sing You Joke

The Joking Starts When I Listen To The Music

February 25th 2006

Laughter. It's such a powerful thing especially when you make people laugh more particularly when you make your favourite band laugh. The first time I listened to them, was in 2004 on the radio covering some songs, I fell in love with them in an instant, the bass, the electric guitars, the drums, and the voice, especially the voice. Later in 2005, I heard them again, but this time with their songs. When I searched my local record shop, I had to dig very deeply since they were local artists. Once I found their single titled “I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor” I bought them immediately with a CD player. The moment I reached home, I listened to it non-stop, but there were unfortunately only 3 songs, until 2006. The beginning of the year with a new album by my favourite band is an excellent start the year, and to my delight, it was much longer than the other album of course, they also shared the same song which was one of my favourites at that moment, I brought the record home and listened to it religiously to the point where my roommate got sick quite literally when she got a fever I had to take care of her, so instead of listening to "Dancing Shoes" or "A Certain Romance" we listened to something my mother used to put when I and my brothers were sick, Mozart. I could only go to college while she was sick, I could not go to work or the pub, the millisecond she got well, I, well, we went to the pub. This was a very special night because not only was it for being back but also it was my 3-year anniversary for working in that pub, the time of my show starts at 11:05 it was 10:45 so shite luckily my roommate was also coming to my show, but she is equally late because we are both getting ready late

"MARYA WHERE IS MY BLUE DRESS?" Emilia yelled from her room

"IT'S IN MY ROOM ON THE BED" I yelled

back preparing my bag and ready to go, she came to my room

"Ok, but why is it here?" Emilia asked me

"Em?" I asked glaring at her, 

"Sorry," She replied,

she got dressed and we both ran to the pub, Lucky for us it was near and it was easy to run there for me since I was wearing Converse but Emilia was wearing high heels to feel fancy, how could you feel fancy in a local pub? I thought. I opened the door to the bar

"What the hell Marya it's already 11:10" the bartender Victor yelled

but before he could say another word I got to the stage removed my jacket and threw it not caring where

"Hello ladies and gentlemen apologies for my lateness, my best friend's lazy arse was weighing me down," I said into the microphone.

Laughs were coming from people who sounded like music to me, and after their laughs, they started to clap as a greeting for me

"Thank you Thank you" I said to the audience 

"So what shall I tell you today? Mhm Oh, tonight is a very special night, today is my anniversary and no it's not my romantic anniversary unless you think me being yelled at every time I come here late is romantic or sexual " I said

"Ooo Marya your so late it's already time to finish" I mimicked Victor and people started to laugh harder,

"Oi your such dirty-minded people ai......but anyways tonight is when I started to work in this bar the day I started to remove your innocents" I joked.

"It marks 3 years, imagine I was working here for one year, and I was still shocked that Victor has not killed me yet I am pretty sure the reason he is always behind that bar is that he is preparing to murder me, planning the day, and sharpening his knife, so if today is the last you will see of me let my last words be 'Thank you for letting all my friends plan a murder on me and not succeeding, and letting some random french bartender kill me instead' I see women are laughing more, I guess after seeing this you will know what tea to final spill to your ex-college-best friend-roommate" I said

taking the microphone from its holster and continuing speaking for 20 more minutes until I noticed a group of people standing next to the bar, there was a boy my age his back towards me with a leather jacket I wanted to get a better look at him when he finally turned to me, I stopped talking only for a second but it felt like hours, 10 minutes after I was done speaking

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, and all the undecided I hope you pissed your pants and you will see me tomorrow night, I basically live her bye bye” I announced

and left the stage, took my thrown coat and bag, and placed them on a stool next to the bar. As Emilia was flirting with any living male soul, I sat at the bar talking to Victor, more precisely, the wall and drinking a bloody Mary,; it was my favourite drink.

"Excuse me, Sir?" One of the boys that I saw earlier from the stage,

"Could I get a-?" He said

not sure what drink to order, his friend that was sitting on the bar stool, the same boy with the leather jacket whispered something to his friend's ear

"A bloody mary, please? For the lady" He finally finished his sentence.

"I should be getting you drinks instead," I said with a smile,

"I get free drinks here so what would you like?" I added,

"How about their most expensive pint?" He asked with a heavy Northerner accent.

"Victor, the most expensive beer you have for this gentleman, please," I asked,

"You have 18 pounds, Marya?" He said,

"No, but I work here, so I give you customers, and you give me free alcohol" I marked.

"I give you money, not alcohol,"

"I give you customers, which means that come with free alcohol and money" I added.

"Fine, you work tomorrow also no holiday" He debated,

"Deal" I smiled,

and he placed the beer to the guy.

"Matt," He said

as he held out his hand,

"Marya, you don't need to know that though I already said my name on stage and it's on the board" I joked,

"And these your fellow shadows?" I asked,

the reason I called them shadows was because they were behind him and I could hardly see them from the light and choice of clothing.

"That's Jamie" He pointed to the blond guy dancing,

"I'm Nick," The brunette with green eyes said.

"Matt, I found a couple of lads come on" He said excitedly

"Will you excuse me?" He said as he finished his entire pint,

"You are excused," I said

and did a fancy bow, they laughed slightly and left, and then the guy next to me, who I assume was also Matt's friend showed me his hand in a gesture to shake it,

"Im Alex," He said in a hoarse or puberty voice with an equally heavy Northerner accent as the rest of his friends.

I shook his hand "Marya" I smiled,

his voice reminded me of something or more precisely someone, I could not put my finger on it though. We talked for hours about our favourite musicians bands, and books it was my favourite subject, and even baking. The night ended with them taking me back to my apartment, while Emilia went out with some lad from the pub.

"You don't have to it's unnecessary" I assured them after they asked if they could take me home,

they didn't exactly ask though they just said they would take me home,

"We are already walking out, and besides you live near us, it's okay" Alex reassured me with a smile,

it was a drunk smile, Matt was also happy to take me home slightly more drunk than Alex, while Jamie and Nick were flat-out drunk, we were all basically knackered.

"Wait, didn't you come to the bar with someone?" Matt asked slurring his words,

"She went with some random bloke, and they are gonna shag," I said,

"How are you sure they are gonna shag, detective?" Nick asked with a funny questioning look on his face,

"Well, her telling me Im gonna shag him tonight in a drunk whisper gave it away" I giggled.

When we reached my building

“I think that’s meh building,” I said slurring my words,

"Yup, it is" I added,

"Wait, wait, wait" Alex said quickly,

"Could you gimmie your number?" He asked while he was searching his phone in his pockets,

"Why not, if I can remember" I giggled,

while the rest laughed, he handed me his phone, and I gave his phone back after I typed my number.

"What does Bella, mean in Italian?" He asked,

"I am too drunk to know, but Bonita I am a pretty drunk bitch, well Bonita is only the pretty part" I giggled,

and he typed something in his phone.

"Well, we shall see each other in the next drunk street," I said in a fancy voice

"We shall" Alex answered in a tone equal to mine,

and he and his mates left. I got up to my apartment as best as possible trying to not let my neighbours think I was an alcoholic it was already bad that they called me a stripper just because I worked in a pub and I was a dance teacher, the moment I opened my apartment door and went to my room I fell asleep, knowing and not knowing how bad and good tomorrow will be.

Tags 💌: @ohladymoon @martinipoliz @i-m-a-leaf-on-the-wind @alexturntable @alexturne @drinkingbitterboy @arcticshadowturtles @cluedoenthusiast @dropofdrool @alovesreading @mywritingonlyfans @jetskisonyourmoat @bellaturner @almluv

[invadertem]

(CLASSIFIED DOCUMENT) ROGUE ZIM

Status: Unknown; presumably alive

Personal Information:

- Pak Model: Defective Superior Model-1

- Gender/Sex: Male (Type B)

- Pronouns: He/Him

- Age: 25 Earth/Irken years

- Sexuality: Omni (Preference: Male)

- Rank: Rogue Super Weapon

- Rogue Code Name: Poltergeist

Physical Description:

- Appearance: Magenta Eyes/Pak

- Height: 5'5"

- Notable Features: Extremely scarred but bandaged arms, small face scar, Pink hoodie

Skills and Enhancements:

- Natural Ability: His pak can release high-voltage shocks capable of killing living beings and destroying technology. Connection to tech results in corruption.

- Pak Weapons: Equipped with powerful weapons designed by Zim himself.

- Emotion-Induced Abilities: Strong emotions can tear holes in time and space, creating small Florpus-like portals.

- Emotional Range: His defect allows him to experience a wide range of emotions.

- Independent Pak: His pak sometimes acts independently from Zim.

- Enhanced Senses: Superior hearing, scent, and sight.

- Training: Proficient in war strategies, combat, anatomy, mechanics, and other fields, driven by Miyuki to be the best.

- Speed and Strength: Quick reflexes allowing for rapid movement. Above-average strength and high pain tolerance.

- Natural Weapons: Claws and teeth sharpened to knife-like sharpness.

Fun Facts:

- Bio-Weapon Origin: The first successful Irken Empire Bio-weapon.

- Unique Scent: Emits a sweet scent with underlying hints of blood and metal.

- Powerhouse: Considered the strongest Irken to ever exist.

- Purring Smeet: Teased for his sleepy nature and purring as a smeet.

- Culinary Preferences: Enjoys sweet foods, while regular food makes him feel sick.

- Musical Inclination: Surprisingly, likes singing songs to himself.

- Personality: Aggressive and cold in nature.

- Troop Membership: Part of Troop 9 during training.

- Infamous Record: Personally responsible for the documented deaths of 10,000 individuals using only his pak.

Notable Events (in chronological order):

1. Caused five years of darkness on Irk upon creation due to a high-voltage electricity shock.

2. Experimented on by Miyuki as a child.

3. Excelled academically, ranking at the top of his classes.

4. Had a height stunter installed by Miyuki for easier control but later removed.

5. Spark from his pak caused four more years of darkness on Irk during a sparring incident.

6. Invented numerous bio-weapons and mass destruction devices.

7. "Accidentally" killed Miyuki and Spork with a bio-weapon.

8. Played a key role in winning the battle of Meekrob during Mission of Impending Doom One.

9. Banished from the Irken Empire, reappearing during Mission of Impending Doom Two.

10. Banished once more, this time to Earth.

11. Involved in the Florpus Incident.

12. Went Rogue, leaving Earth for four years with no trace of his whereabouts.

13. Destroyed multiple Empire Watch Bases (C1, C2, C3, D5, D6, G9, G11, G18, Z1), with more to be documented.

This document provides official information regarding Defective Superior Model-1, also known as Poltergeist, and his extensive history, abilities, and notable events within the Irken Empire. He is extremely dangerous and is to be reported upon sighting.

!!!WARNING: FILE IS HIGHLY SUBJECT TO CHANGE!!!

[stray-kaz]

Ghosts I Get, People Are Crazy : a George Karim x f!reader oneshot

The Gist of This: You and George are kidnapped by real, corporeal human beings.

A/N: Sorry this is kind of random and ends lazily? I ran out of steam.

The ground under your cheek was rough and cold, and as you moved to try and sit up, your joints throbbed and you couldn’t move your hands. You fought to pry your eyes open, your gaze first landing on the strong twine binding your wrists and then on a very familiar head of curly black hair. Panic shot through you and you shuffled over on your knees, movement constricted due to the matching twine around your ankles.

You stopped by his head and reached down to bump your joined hands against him, nudging his head along the ground slightly.

“George!” you hissed frantically. “Please wake up!”

He groaned and opened his eyes to look up at you, hovering anxiously over him. He tested his hands and rolled his eyes.

“Well, this still beats the time Lucy slapped me to wake me up” he muttered. “Any idea where we are?”

You shook your head as you leaned down and levered your bound hands underneath his shoulders to help him upright.

“No clue” you said, stopping with a huff and leaning against him. “But I did only just wake up. Did you see who ‘napped us?”

George leaned his head back on yours and you felt it shake.

“Nope. But I don’t feel good, so I think they drugged us, whoever they are.”

You went quiet, assessed your own physical feelings and realised that there was, indeed, a very specific nausea in your gut. You sighed.

“Well, this sucks” you announced bluntly. “Lockwood and Lucy aren’t even in London at the moment. How do we get out of this? Ghosts I get, but people are crazy.”

“Ghosts were people, too, remember” George teased gently.

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see your face.

“Okay, smartypants” you retorted. “The live ones are crazy. The others didn’t exactly have a pleasant picnic in the park with the Winkmans, did they?”

George winced in memory. 

“At least there’s no electric chair” he replied, glancing around the concrete cell you both woke up in.

“That we know of” you mumbled.

“Well, aren’t you a bright spark today?”

“Shut up, Karim. This situation does not make me happy.”

“You’d be mad if it did.”

“You don’t happen to have a knife, do you?”

George thought about it for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“A penknife. Right pocket” he told you.

You felt your face grow warm at the prospect at fumbling around in his pants pocket, but steeled yourself and shuffled around until you could kneel at his side, leaning down to wiggle your bound hands as deep as they could fit in his righthand pocket. Your fingertips brushed something cold to the touch, but it slid just out of reach. You grunted in annoyance and pressed harder, George wriggling uncertainly under the force.

“Just a couple more seconds...” you breathed, closing your eyes and grinning in triumph when your fingers closed around the tricky object.

You struggled to flick the penknife open to the correct tool, grasping it awkwardly in your tied hands, before setting the sharpened blade to the twine tied tight around George’s wrists. You sawed as quickly as you could, right down to the last layer, at which point, you stopped and he snapped it easily, letting the twine fall to his lap. He held his hand out.

“Here” he said. “I’ll do yours.”

You let him hold your wrists loosely with one hand while he cut with the other, trying to hide what you were certain must be glowing cheeks. Once your wrists were free, George sliced through the bindings around your ankles before moving on to his. Then he pocketed the penknife again and helped you to your feet. They felt weak and unstable, but you could walk and that was better.

To your surprise, George reached out and hugged you, his hands rambling over your back in an attempt to soothe; oddly, it actually worked. You felt yourself relaxing against him, nestling your head on his shoulder.

There was a sudden grating, scraping sound and you lifted your head, not letting go of George. Half expecting to somehow see Lockwood appear in the gap left by a suddenly open door, you were nevertheless relieved to see Kipps standing there instead. He raised his eyebrows at you and George in an embrace.

“Well, took you two long enough. You’ve been pretending you’re normal about each other longer than Tony and Lucy!”

George dropped a hand from your back and took hold of yours, leading you past Kipps with a quick nod.

“Appreciate the rescue, but do keep your comments to yourself, thanks.”

[ausrache]

Hearings of the Dead Cosmos — The Living, Beating Heart Pt. 2 ( Mali Companion Quest Pt. 2 )

"This is . . ." Choking upon an exhale, Mali stutters. "This is the place." An abandoned IPC vessel? Yet the Emanator does not respond, instead only moving forward. No matter where you went, where you looked — Everything was littered in cobwebs & creaking. Not an ounce of electricity ran through this vehicle. It must have been dead for ages. As your eyes searched for Mali's figure within the darkness, you spot her walking into a small room. A large seat was placed within the middle, multiple non-functioning gadgets lying around and . . . were those cuffs at the armrest?

An interrogation room.

You watched as Mali's black nails trace along the metal bars of the seat. She had that familiar look upon her face — The one where she seemingly was a million miles away. "I was sat right here." And without much hesitation, she actually would sit down. Her features softened, ruby eyes gazing at you with the look of a tiny animal. It was as if you were looking at another version of the emanator. "I still remember everything . . . How I was brought here."

"Zero One Six. One of the last living natives of Alpha Zedara and allegedly connected to an attack that has led to thousands in loss." A younger Mali sobbed, tears streaming down her face whilst she seemed to curl into herself. She wanted to be tiny. To disappear from those harsh gazes & yet, she couldn't. "I'm sorry! I-I . . . It's just so loud . . . I-It's always so loud when they speak to me." A pause, the person from the shadows seems undeterred by the sight. "Interrogation starts now."

Mali's face drops, she does not seem interested in wanting to speak. "Let's leave." Her voice cuts through the silence like a knife, features sharpened once more. "This place is dead, anyways."