#eye rolling in the back of my head

[respectthepetty]

This is what I'm showing up to Battle of the Writers for! THIS!

I saw hints of them in the trailer and was already hooked!

HE HAS HIM IN HIS PHONE AS "PUPPY"!

The immature popular young writer and the mature agent who is over his shit.

They are already everything I needed them to be!

I love them.

And they love each other.

I'm going to be unwell about them.

*bites knuckles*

This is gonna be delicious.

[shotmrmiller]

getting shot down by ghost without even asking him out or anything because he'd heard from one scottish bird that your type of guy was exactly like him and thinking back on it now, all the qualities you'd listed for your dream man do sound like as if you were describing him. yikes.

you don't take his rejection to heart, even though it does lightly sting but before you get a chance to explain that said scottish bird is an idiot and very mistaken in his assumption, ghost is telling you that it'd never work, you'd only get hurt and that you do take to heart because what does that mean, exactly? does he think you some dewy eyed farm girl looking for love? that you can't have casual sex with someone without eventually wanting for more?

"tha' ain't wha' i said. you'd get hurt, i mean look at ya." what about you? it's not like you'd let any of what happens behind closed doors affect your performance or anything, you and kyle always keep things professional while in the field.

also, is he aware that he doesn't have to have a reason to not want to sleep with you, or anyone else for that matter?

"you're small," he states, as if fact.

small? small where? your irritation dissipates, shoulders bleeding tension as genuine worry begins to set in. his vision might actually be going bad. could it be the black paint he wears under his mask? is it even safe to use on the face let alone near the eyes? did he read the instructions?

but then you realize he's looking at your legs, or specifically, what's between them and things click, and now you're wondering how someone so bloody brilliant could be this fucking stupid.

"while i appreciate your concern, lieutenant," you pointedly snap, "that's not even- i'd be just fine." he's a big guy, for sure. massive, if being honest. his neck alone is easily bigger than both your hands and you've caught him once or twice having to duck his head to enter the debriefing room but him being so endowed that it poses a threat to you is idiotic at best.

he hums, long and low in his throat, as he peers down at you through heavy lidded eyes, and raises his right shoulder in a shrug. "as you like," and that's the one and only warning you got.

simon had given you as much foreplay as needed, had lapped at your pussy until you forgot what day of the week it was, curled and scissored his fingers until his bedsheets were sodden and it still hadn't been enough. he'd only fit about a fourth of it in before he took pity on you and fucked your thighs instead until he got close, pushing his ruddy tip back into your aching cunt because "spillin' outside is a waste," and sent you on your merry way.

you're no quitter though and after some shopping online, your saving grace (dilators) will be here in a week.

(now to find soap and rip the rest of his hair right out his scalp for wagging his tongue.)

[yameoto]

being caitlyn’s lil stress-relief toy

tw; dom!caitlyn, fingerfucking, girlcock, cumdump, lots and lots of cum, she literally pounces onto you

caitlyn has a stressful job. even with passing her seat on the council over to sevika, she’s almost always swamped; whether it be with cleaning up the streets, piltover’s (her own) messes, or this that and the other. she can get as tightly coiled as a wind-up toy.

you could already tell she had a shitty day today; what with the way she roughly kicked her boots off at the door, slamming it shut with more force than you’re accustomed to. all of caitlyn’s movements are executed in that fluid, patented grace of hers—almost more subconscious than calculated.

today? caitlyn is pissed off, overworked, muscles screaming and the beginnings of a migraine throbbing at the left-side of her head. the only thing that’ll fix her?

her dick, inside you. effective immediately.

the moment she catches sight of you; gorgeous and lazily sprawled out on the sofa, legs kicked up behind you as you idly flick through that novel of yours—caitlyn is shameless to say, her more debauched instincts completely overcome her.

“oh, love,” your eyes crinkle, head tilting upwards at the sight of your lover, “you’re home. you wouldn’t believe—“

that’s all the time it takes, for caitlyn to wrench you up with ease and thrust you on top of her desk, hands clasped tight on your waist, pupils blown and breathing shallow. “wouldn’t believe what, dear?” her voice is rough as teeth drag down your shoulder. your body tenses in startle, though it relaxes almost just as quickly. caitlyn is clumsier than usual in jerking down your underwear. hastier, still.

your knees widen, like the good little girl you are. hers. all hers. caitlyn loves you. loves how easily your legs spread open for her cock. loves how your pussy takes her when she sinks inside you with an almost rabid groan. your walls tighten; briefly resisting the throbbing intrusion of her length before she pushes. a ripple of satisfaction throbs though her body and pools in your cunt, as she drives herself as deep into you as she can. her nails dig into the working muscles of your shoulder blades, and she pushes you right down against the desk, knees splayed far apart. an audible whimper escapes the both of you.

“so tight,” caitlyn gasps, a full-body shudder of relief thrumming through her body as she slumps forwards, lithe figure cacooning your trembling back, as she fucks you full. “like you made for—my cock.” gods. she’s needed this.

her grunts are low, echoing deep and breathy. you can feel it rumble against your back, though it’s nothing compared to the excruciating jolt of white-hot pleasure as her hips thrust, fucking into you. she cums, twice, before you do.

“mm. you smell so good,” caitlyn slurs, nose pressing against your nape. she breathes you in, hands sliding up your shirt, each slam of her hips sending a disgustingly, deliciously wet slapping sound reverberating about the room. “is that my perfume?”

you can’t respond, mental space particularity preoccupied by trying not to buck back wildly into your girlfriend like some fucking animal, the sounds of sloppy fucking resonating loud enough you’re almost sure the whole estate can hear. caitlyn muffles a sharp moan into your shoulder, before drawing out. you whine, urgent and despairing at the loss, and caitlyn’s eyes almost roll back at the strings of cum trawling from your pussy to her head, coated and shiny.

you’re the most beautiful sight she’s ever laid eyes upon. balanced precariously at the edge of her desk, pussy wide and wet and begging for her. caitlyn’s never been able to deny you.

she plunges two fingers into the your pulse, gaping open on her desk, clenching around a grand total of nothing as you bend, jutting your ass out like a mindless slut. yearning to be filled up again. caitlyn’s chuckle ghosts against your nape. she scoops out the gooey remnants of her cum, eyes hooded and glittering as thick, milky liquid drips obscenely from your hole to the likely very-important, extremely-life-altering documents filed meticulously upon her desk. the heavy lids of your eyes briefly widen.

“cait—“ you sound so pretty when you whine, “we’re—hnng—we’re makin’ a mess—”

it’s cute that you care. caitlyn certainly doesn’t—but she’s not above using it to fuck with you.

“i know. aren’t you terrible?” she teases, mildly, like she doesn’t delight in seeing wood darken with the splats of cum trickling down your thighs, her fingers coming away coated in the evidence of her. “leaking all over my paperwork.” your hips jerk, strangled noise elicited when caitlyn yanks her fingers out and replaces the curl of her knuckle with the familiar thickness of her cock. you swallow her back in, easily now, and the pressure pushes out another spurt of whiteness that oozes out from your pussy like a shockwave. your hands scrabble against the edge of the desk, moaning in reckless abandon.

caitlyn muffles a sharp cry, burrowing her face into the crook of your neck as your lower torso digs into the table, and the both of you cry out, at once. you’re ruining about a week’s worth of paperwork, reglazing mahogany. caitlyn only moans, louder, fervent and breathtaking.

she bites into your skin, and you release the most deliciously eye-rolling croon as her hips roll and she cums, once more, stretched to your limits. you’re hers, and she’ll damn well let everyone know it.

[asharaks]

cutting davrin out - of his own death, his own epilogue, his own plot - in favour of his dog was a calculated choice bioware made: people won't care about the black, indigenous-coded man unless we give them a reason to, so rather than putting work and effort into giving him a complicated, emotionally impactful plot that ties into the themes of the game, we'll just stick him with a cute animal and hope that's enough to get people to care, and it worked! assan is the thing people care about. i've seen davrin's death scene giffed and tagged with just assan, i've seen people saying they hated making this choice because assan's just a baby, people saying they hate that assan dies alongside davrin because he "doesn't have to" . like, folks, can we step back and think for a second abt what agenda the writers could've had in making you choose between returning fan favourite fantasy catholic white woman harding and late-recruited indigenous-coded black man davrin, with a gimmick thrown in so you can pretend to feel bad? can we? for me?

[yeyinde]

I really need Simon to fuck my throat

yeah. oh, yeah. like, fucks your throat so raw you have to call in sick the next day. fishermen friend's + tamarack tea + honey, ginger, lemon and tumeric on rotation because he likes to grab you by the scruff of your neck, feed his cock into you until his head hits the back, and just grind. loves it when you can't talk the next day, when your voice is hoarse and reedy. gets off more on listening to people coo at you. poor thing, you sound so awful. you must be sick, then, eh? be sure to drink plenty -

and yeah, you have. because when he wants to fuck your face, when he wants your mouth on his cock, he makes a feast out of it. an all day event. cums once on your tongue, down your throat, over your face. your chest.

makes a mess out of from the beginning. pulls out after sinking in as deep as he can go, and then slaps his cock across your cheeks, the bridge of your nose. getting you wet with pre-cum and spit. mockingly tilts his head and tells you how pretty you look with cum dripping down your cheeks.

brushes his thumb over the bulge of your cheeks, feels himself through the skin. it seems soft on its face, but you know Simon by now. it's a warning. he speeds up until his balls are slapping against your chin hard enough to sting. pushes you down, down, down until the thick patch of coarse hair at the base tickles your nose. keeps going, too, until every inch is swallowed down. holds you like that, hand pinching the skin of your nape, and grinds his cock into your mouth until your hands slap his thighs, until you choke.

and then he starts again. pulls out and makes you hold your tongue out for him as he fists his cock in his hand. slides in slow. so slow. giving you enough time to think you're in control before thrusting in hard enough that you see stars when your nose bumps into his groin.

he's chatty, too. never shuts up. you'd think it would be a silent affair, giving who he is, but no. he's foul as he looms over you, huffing into the fabric of his mask, grinding his hips against your face. made for this, for his cock. look at you. gagging for it. you belong on your knees for him, don't you? taking his cock.

and when you get whiny - overstimulated, tired, jaw aching, mouth sour - he clucks his tongue, pulls out, and pinches your nose shut. slides his cock over your tongue, lips, cheeks as you heave for air with your mouth wide open. cums on your tongue, and makes you sit on your knees like that while he reclines on the couch, fingers petting over your head. flipping through the channels as you struggle not to spill a single drop.

is always sure to take a picture, too. a new screensaver with you in a terrible state, all sloppy and messy. tongue sticking out of your mouth, cradling a puddle of his cum.

terrible man.

[alfheimr]

hi. here is my oc who is a pathetic knock-off selkie. they cannot swim. i hope u like them.

[my-cages-were-mental]

this is my roman empire.

[lov9r]

WOULD LICK HER BACK UNTIL MY TONGUE DISINTEGRATES

[louisjude]

“#1 rule of television: If it’s on the screen, it’s there for a reason 🤭”

so you agree? you think there’s a reason for this?

[jjkyaoi]

a photographer told chappell to shut the fuck up at the vmas and she, rightfully, shut that shit down and told HIM to stfu. and now suddenly she’s the massive bitch AGAIN who can’t handle publicity and needs to be taken down a peg. hjmmm.. it’s almost as if, you guys are all for women speaking up for themselves and fighting against unfair treatment specifically from men until it’s not an imaginary scenario you’ve conceived in your mind and it actually happens and they aren’t perfectly nice about it. uhuh. uhuh. don’t mind me js taking notes

[millenniallust4death]

Still cackling at the comment on my Blaze post accusing me of using my dead husband to gain followers and suggesting I "get a real job". Yes, because the wildly profitable life of an influencer on Tumblr dot com has granted me untold wealth. At last, I can fully dedicate myself to writing meat clown posts. True love is only found in reblogs.

[blusandbirds]

eli moskowitz - "am i making you feel sick?"

[respectthepetty]

I like the chaotic energy Battle of the Writers brings to me weekly, but I also know I'm showing up for Daddy x Puppy aka Pie x Ozone!

So I'm thrilled that Ozone keeps getting caught in lies, and this week's lie delivered him directly to Pie's lap.

Pie could've made his life easier by simply switching seats, but he didn't seem too upset about becoming the seat either.

No matter how annoyed he seemed at Ozone,

He seemed a lot more annoyed at Ozone's friend (read: jealous)

Pie puts on a good mean face,

But because I already ship them, I think he already has some affection for his irresponsible rookie writer.

He did casually mention "rewards" to a guy he has listed as "Puppy" in his phone so . . .

Next week when a very drunk Ozone uses him as a bluster at that wedding, he should just admit he already loves him, so I can have six episodes of them as boyfriends.

Or they can be like the novel these unhinged koalas are writing, and sleep together first, then fall in love.

Either way,

GIVE ME DADDY x PUPPY!

[teddybeartoji]

:333333333

[unriding]

kablam

[sergle]

I couldn't decide which one to use so you get both of these pics