#f boy goat person

[prunpplee]

This year's art fights so far !

[tpwk-formula1]

hi! could i pls get sicilian crust with alfredo sauce, pepperoni, pineapple, roasted mushrooms, and goat cheese. then also sprite, dr pepper, truly, and dessert? sorry for the big order 😭

p.s. i love ur writing so much 🫶🏻

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian dating Alfredo sweet sex pepperoni "Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want" pineapple "Look so pretty wrapped around my cock" roasted mushroom “Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy” goat cheese "Look so pretty like this" sprite size kink dr pepper dirty talk truly belly bulge dessert yes served by Ollie Bearman

Ollie x Gf! Reader

TW - Oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex, slight teasing, belly bulge, slight size kink

WC 1400+

Y/N POV

"If we get married one da-" I start saying but get quickly cut off by my boyfriend Ollie scoffing making me turn my head with a raised brow.

"IF? If we get married? You mean WHEN we get married," Ollie corrects making me laugh slightly and nod my head in agreeance.

"Well, ya when we get married, would you want to write personal vows or standard ones?" I reply softly with a blush creeping on my cheeks just at the thought of marrying Ollie one day.

"Well, what would you want? I love love to be able to get up in front of our entire family and friends and tell them exactly how much I love you and all the promises I make to you but I understand if you would rather do that in a more personal setting," Ollie replies softly while looking down at me.

We had spent the whole day being pretty lazy and had currently been watching The Office while cuddling when the random question popped up into my head.

"Well, I've always pictured myself doing a first look before I walk down the isle so maybe we could do personal ones just us and maybe with our parents and closest friends and then during the ceremony maybe giving the standard ones," I reply back making Ollie smile and nod.

"Well, that sounds like a good plan to me. I'm shocked a bit that you would want to do a first look," Ollie tells me softly making me laugh lightly.

"I don't know I just love first looks they feel really personal and then that way we can have our moment alone before having a moment for everyone you know. I'm sure there's gonna be a lot of people and eyes on us so I think it would be nice to have something for just us and the important people," I tell Ollie softly making him nod.

"God, we really are gonna have a lot of people there," Ollie says clearly thinking about all the the people we would be inviting to our future wedding.

"You think you're gonna invite all your engineers from Haas and Ferrari?" I ask slightly laughly making Ollie chuckle along.

"Probably not, but definitely the important ones. You gonna invite everyone in your ballet preformances?" Ollie questions with a laugh falling from his lips.

"No, definitely not. Maybe 1 or 2 of them are deserving of an invite. Please tell me you're not inviting every driver on the grid," I jokingly ask while cringing just thinking about how much ruckus the 20 of those boys could cause.

"Oh definitely all 20," Ollie says with a smirk falling on his lips making me laugh and nod.

"Ya I guess they are pretty important," I nod laughing with Ollie.

"You're really gonna marry me one day?" Ollie asks suddenly getting serious.

"Well ya, when the day comes that you ask me to marry you I'll say yes in a heartbeat," I tell him with a smile starting to spread across my face. Ollie matched my smile before pulling me closer to his chest and kissing me softly on the lips.

"I fucking love you," Ollie tells me making me laugh and tell him I loved him too.

I pulled Ollie back in for another kiss this one turning into a heated makeout session with me crawling into Ollie's lap and grinding down softly feeling his cock starting to grow hard under me.

"Fuck baby," Ollie groans making me giggle softly.

"I can feel how hard you are," I reply softly against Ollie's lips making him groan when I grind down harder into his growing cock.

I pull off my shirt quickly leaving my upper body completely bare for Ollie's large hands to grip onto my tits making me whimper slightly.

"God, I love these tits," Ollie groans making me smile softly.

Ollie starts teasing my nipples with his fingers making me whimper before I start pulling off Ollie's shirt making Ollie pull away slightly to help pull it off all of the way.

I look down at Ollie's toned chest making me rub my hands along his chest and abs before settling on the waistband of his shorts pulling them open just slightly so I can sneak my hand and squeeze his hard cock.

"Fuck," Ollie groans when I start jerking him off slightly.

Ollie and I both climb out of bed and strip our clothes off before I pull Ollie in for another kiss and push him to sit on the edge of the bed so I can get on my knees for him.

"Look so pretty like this" Ollie mumbles while staring down at me on my knees for him.

I slowly start jerking his cock off before leaning down and pulling the tip of his large cock into my mouth pulling him farther down my throat and making me gag slightly around his cock.

"Fuck," Ollie moans when I start bobbing my head. I hum softly against his cock knowing how much he loves the soft vibrations against his sensitive cock.

"Slow down," Ollie groans pulling my hair into a ponytail and pulling me up his cock slowly when I start gagging around his cock.

"Don't want you to get hurt," Ollie mumbles when I look up at him confused.

"I'm fine, wanna make you feel good," I explain softly while bringing him back into my mouth and down my throat gagging once again but this time Ollie just groaned and enjoyed the pleasure.

"Fuck, Look so pretty wrapped around my cock," Ollie groaned making me whine around his cock and bring my hand between my thigh to tease my already-soaked pussy.

"Get on the bed," Ollie groaned pulling me up and helping me onto the bed.

Ollie was between my thigh within moments, pulling my clit into his mouth and sucking it like his life depended on it.

"Oh fuck, Ollie," I whimper pulling his hair between my fingers and tugging him closer to my core.

"More," I beg when I feel Ollie slowly slip two fingers into my pussy.

"Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want," Ollie groaned against my pussy while picking up the pace with his fingers making the band in my stomach tighten warning me of the orgasm that is starting to build.

"I want you cumming on my cock," Ollie says while slipping his fingers out of my pussy making me whimper at the loss of pleasure.

Ollie sits up before he slowly slips his cock into my pussy making me whimper when I feel his large cock starting to fill my tight pussy up.

"Oh god," I scream out when Ollie is all the way seated in my pussy. I could feel the stretch of him all around me making me whimper.

"Too big," I gasp when Ollie starts thrusting his hips softly trying to stretch me out as much as possible before picking up his pace.

"Fucking hell, you're so tight," Ollie groans when he can feel me starting to relax around him, allowing him to pick up the pace.

"Ollie," I moan loudly when I can feel my orgasm start to build in the pit of my stomach again.

“Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy,” Ollie groans making me trail my eyes down slightly noticing instantly the bulge that keeps showing back up every time Ollie pushes in all the way.

"Oh Ollie," I gasp in a stunned manner not expecting it to be so noticeable.

"So tight for me," Ollie mumbles while slowly starting to push down on the bulge so I can feel it more.

"Oh fuck," I scream when I start cumming all over Ollie's cock. All the pleasure was far too overwhelming around me I don't realize that OIllie's thrusts have stopped until I feel his cock pulsing deep in my pussy before he starts unleashing rope after rope of his cum.

"Fuck Ollie," I gasp out of breath as he slowly starts slipping out of me making me feel his cum leak from my gaping pussy.

"Fuck," Ollie groans while slowly climbing out of bed and grabbing a discarded shirt on the floor to wipe me down quickly before climbing back into bed and pulling me into his chest.

"Fuck, I could do that the rest of my life," I joke softly making Ollie laugh lightly with me but still nodding his head in agreeance.

[joffyworld]

COTL Freaky Tierlist

ALRIGHT LISTEN UP CHUCKLEFUCKS

I'm about to drop some life changing lore and if you can't handle it, that's tough titties my brothers, sisters and theys. If you don't agree with this tier list, you're either a normal person (in which case why are you here run for the hills) or you're so damn freaky that God forgot that was possible when he made me.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, FROM LEAST TO MOST FREAKY:

F:

Kallamar - Need I say more? This loveable twink is soft as his husbands knickers and by God would we not have him any other way. This fucker can't even fathom anything beyond the most painfully dull missionary imaginable, and that's just as an excuse to cuddle more afterwards. "But Joffy" I hear you say, "He's a renowned slut he should be in A!" Wrong. He couldn't be more vanilla, it's all an act and anyone with more than 3 spouses is just fucking lying at that point. Cmon, he may be a God, but deep inside that cowards octopussy is a love for the mundane.

D:

Heket - Controversial I know. But hear me out here. Heket has spent all her life getting fucked by life, she has literally no time for your stupid fleshy appendages, and to top it off she's the most desperately useless lesbian this side of the lands of the old faith. Renowned from Darkwood to Anchordeep, this bitch is fucking stupid when it comes to "rizzing a shawty" and it shows because she spends all her time yapping about the good ol' days. She's only slightly freakier than Kallamar because she's probably into being burned by cigarettes or some shit, but let's face facts. Inexperience guides this poor phrog into the D tier, despite her aversion to "D" to begin with.

Leshy - This stupid dumb stupid worm barely knows that sex exists, and if you asked him what his favourite position is he'd say "1st" and then promptly challenge you to a footrace. The God of Chaos has no time for ropes and rails, but he's at least got a good heart and is pretty gay for that cat. I've watched this stupid fucker get divorced in two different AU's because he couldn't live with the guilt, you think he's surviving post-nut clarity? No. Enough said, he's keeping it clean and calm in the bedroom, and that cat couldn't be happier about that considering his daily life is fucking mental. Keep the Chaos outside, inside? Domestic worm only.

C:

Goat - Now this is where it gets tricky, you might think that the gruff exterior of a mass murdering psychopath is enough to demonstrate a willingness to get tied upside down and spank the monkey till the sun don't shine. But brother, let me tell you, it ain't fuckin true. Don't get me wrong, this goat can fuck, and boy does he, but most of the time it's all bark no bite in the flirting department. Easily flustered, puts up an external image of punk-rock to hide that he's an utter cinnamon bun, the whole works. That being said, with a long term partner? Buckle up. That crown isn't dildo-purple for no reason, prepare for bliss and potential bliss-ters.

B:

Lamb - OKAY HOLD YOUR HORSES this is gonna be a tough one. You've gotta be thinking, that's either wayyy too high for this silly lil fella, or wayyy to low for this absolute cock devouring demon, but let me remind you, this one here is subjective. This is the only character I've seen written as everything from an asexual to a violent and sadistic cannibal, so what fairer rating than the exact middle? It truly does depends, if you're on your "cannibalism is routine and fun" shit then you're gonna be rocketing right up there, straight to S baby, unless you have some kind of twisted mentality you need checked by a licensed psychiatrist to somehow think that's tame; not to shame it mind you. But if you're more on the side of the lamb's that typically get posted by a cuter artist, than you're gonna be rocking a D or even an F. This little fuzzy fucker is traumatized, some type of gay no matter what, and certainly a wildcard, and what better way to celebrate that then with a middle-of-the-road approach? Besides, their most famous partner is certainly a bit more repressed, which leads us to:

A:

Narinder - Are we surprised? This fuzzy little furball has been trapped in prison for 1000 years with his two kids and NOTHING ELSE to do except hope he can get back on the market. The moment he's freed, it's gonna be hell unleashed, but thankfully 99% of the time he's either so angry or so oblivious it turns into a slowburn of passion with his fuzzy lil sheepguy that he definitely "doesn't" have a thing for. But, as the well versed know, this motherfucker has seen shit, and being the God of Death is gonna give you a weird taste in, well, "tastes" than a normal life will. I mean really, the guys fuckin surrounded by miserable dead people all day, he needs stress relief and his enthusiasm for revenge borders on the horny-sided. This guy fucks, but mostly gets fucked, and remains The One Who Bottoms in almost every AU. Cmon people, if you've read this far you've fuckin seen it with your own eyes, do I really to lecture about it more?

S:

The Mura™ - The fucker that started it all. I bet until now you thought I wouldn't include this loveable spider and awful mother-sibling of 4, but here we are. This goddamn spider has single-parented a family of genocidal psychopaths since history started being recorded, and to match that then had to almost literally kill one of their own brother-kid-things to save the others. Stressed and in need of relief? Check. You know what makes a motherfucker freaky? Repression, and this spider is goddamn dripping in it (pun intended) and is ready to burst. I myself may be a Shamura aroace truther, but if I have to put a letter on it, it's 100% in the universes where this spider fucks. Copulates, eats your head, kills your family mid-coitus, the whole shebang, but boy is that gonna be the best last nut you'll ever bust. This spider's an expert, literally the God of War and by God are they gonna wage war on your holes, not to mention ALSO being the God of Wisdom? I mean come on, somebody had to write the Kama Sutra, and it was this horny bastard

And that's it

You may have questions, you may have alternative takes, to be honest I'll probably change my mind the moment I hit post and remember that actually Heket deepthroated a glizzy on the 5th of October last year, but honestly? Who gives a shit. These gods be gay people, that's all that matters.

Goodnight, Lamb Bless, and may you never encounter The Mura during ovulation. Godspeed soldiers, amen.

[neptunescore]

Most of the drivers are more concerned about padding their own pockets. Lando is probably the worst on the grid though. He has a lot of influence and acts like he keeps it real and doesn’t care bc he tells it like it is and isn’t afraid. He’s a total faker. He never speaks up and only repeats what his PR team tell him to say. Nothing seems genuine or real about him. Not only that but Lando travels the world and has fans from all over and doesn’t even care to look at a map and be made aware of what part of the world he’s in. He charges obscene amounts for his shitty merchandise when he knows his fans aren’t making that kind of money. He also accepts money when he does stream on twitch. He has no shame. At the Miami GP he goes and says people should respect a guy who has a known reputation for being an incredibly racist and misogynistic. His fan girls don’t care though bc they all think they have a shot with him and think he’s cute.

Lando no backbone Norris, yeah put that on a shirt.

I used to be a fan of his but over the years I’ve been finding him more and more annoying.

Anon, in the most gentle way, while I do agree with some things here, I feel like there are so many other things ur getting angry at him for, for no reason.

Like yes, I am INCREDIBLEY angry/ irritated abt the stuff he said abt trump, and his unawareness/ ignorance of the boycott, as well as (and this for all the drivers, EXCEPT LEWIS HAMILTON THE GOAT), his inability to post/ talk abt the genocide happening in Palestine.

However, U saying there's nothing 'genuine' abt him, and talking abt how he doesn't know 'which part of the world he's in', is just way too much. Like we've never met him, we dont know him personally, so we can't really say anything when it comes to him being 'genuine' or not. Also, come one getting mad at him for not knowing where countries are is a bit to much, like ofc everyone is free to dislike a driver just bc, but don't hate on him for smthng so lame😭.

U also talk abt how 'he made his merch too expensive for fans', anon, merch - in general - has ALWAYS been expensive, like go look at the rbr, mercedes, ferrari, ANY OF THE TEAMS' merch. Go look at TAYLOR SWIFTS merch, at OSCAR'S merch, at DANIEL'S Enchante stuff. Obv, we'd all like if the stuff was less pricey, but u can't just get mad at one person and not get mad at the others for the same thing.

'He accepts money when he streams on twitch,' I feel like u don't get how his fans VOLUNTARILY give that money, like no lando does not demand them for it, or tell them he'll hate them if they don't give him anything, he's NEVER said he wants them to donate😭. And me personally, if someone was giving me money willingly and happily, I wouldn't refuse it ( its hard out here😔✋🏽) no matter if I was rich or not.

Anyway to end this, I just wanna say that I don't like lando either😭, it's not that he sucks, or that I think he's 'overrrated' I just don't personally vibe with him. (He gives me like 17 yr old f boy energy vibes). But that doesn't mean I'll create reasons to hate him, or like be one of those weirdos who go and talk shit in his comments. I just don't follow him, and when he DOES do smthng wrong, I call him out for it, like I would do for every other driver.

And whoever likes him, can like him. Its their choice, as long as they can admit when he does smthn wrong.

(THIS IS ALL ABT OFF-TRACK, on-track I say you must bcm the biggest haters against drivers u dont like bc if not then WHERES THE PASSIONN😤😤. stop the hate as soon as the race ends tho😭🙏🏽)

[originallandlockedmariner]

2023

Pickleball. Generative AI. Lula takes office in Brazil, Amazon Rainforest throws a party. Prince Harry refusing to stop talking about his frozen penis no matter how many times society begged him to stop. UFOs are real. Viral cat dubbed ‘largest cat anyone has ever seen’ gets adopted. Pee-Wee’s big adventure ends. Musk & X. Turkey-Syria earthquake kills thousands. India surpasses China as ‘country squeezing in the most peeps’. Tucker Carlson ousted. Miss USA and her 30 lbs moon costume. Wildfires in Kelowna and Hawaii. Macron tinkers with retirement age of the French. Paltrow can’t ski. Big Red Boots. Bob Barker leaves us. Alabama mom delivers 2 babies from her 2 uteruses in 2 days. Charles III. Ukrainian counteroffensive against Russian forces as the war drags on. Taylor Swift is Time’s Person of the Year. African ‘coup belt’. Flo-Jo dies in her sleep. Chinese spy balloon shot down. Hollywood writers strike. Human ‘nice mugshot’ Shitstain and his 91 indictments. Highest interest rates in 2 decades. The Bear’s Christmas episode. War in Gaza. Shinzo Abe is assassinated. Alex Murdaugh. Ocean Cleanup removes 25 000 lbs of trash from the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Vase purchased for $3.99 sells for $100 000 at auction. Barbenheimer. A third of Pakistan is flooded. Lionel Messi is the GOAT. Travis Kelce. The Sphere opens in Las Vegas. Regulators seized Silicon Valley Bank and Signature Bank, resulting in two of the three largest bank failures in U.S. history. “The Woman In Me”. WHO declares COVID ain’t a thing no more. Titan sub sinks, rich people die. Matthew Perry drowns. Dumbledore Dies (again). Massive sales of ‘Fuck Trudeau’ flags for jacked-up micro-dick trucks. Everything Everywhere All At Once. June-August was the hottest three-month period in recorded history across the Earth. Tina Turner dies. And the Beatles release a new song?! Wow… You got big shoes to fill 2024.

Archives for context:

2020

Kobe. Pandemic. Lockdown. Koalas on fire. Harry and Meg retire. Toilet paper hoarding. Alcoholism. Impeach the f*cker. Parasite. Bonnie Henry. Tiger King. Working from home. Sourdough bread. Harvey Weinstein guilty. Zoom overdose. Dip your body in sanitizer. 6 feet. Quarantine. OK Boomer. Home schooling (everyone passes). Murder hornets. Dolly Parton. Don’t hug, kiss or see anybody, especially your family. Chris Evans’ junk. TikTok. Glory holes. Face masks. CERB. West Coast wildfires. Stay home. Small Businesses lose, big box stores win. F*ck Bozos. ‘Dreams’ and cranberry juice. Close yoga studios, but thumbs up to your local gym. Speak moistly to me. George Floyd. BLM. F*ck Trump. Phase 2, 3 and Summer. RBG. Baby Yoda. Biden wins. Bond and Black Panther die. No more lockdown. Back to school and work. Just kidding... giddy up round 2. Giuliani leaks shit from his head. Resurgence of chess. UFOs are real. Restrictions. Dave Grohl admits defeat. Monolith. “F*ck... forgot my mask in the car”. No Christmas shenanigans allowed. Bubbles. Alex Trebek. Use the term ‘dumpster fire’ one too many times. Jupiter and Saturn form 'Christmas Star'. Happy New Year Bitches!!!! 2021... you better not sh*t the bed!!

2021

“We love you, you’re very special”. Failed coup attempt at the Capital. Twitter, FB and IG ban Donny. Hammerin’ Hank goes to the Field of Dreams. Bozo no longer richest man but still a twat. Leachman, Tyson, and Holbrook pass. The economy is worse than expected. Kim and Kanye split. Brood X cicadas. Dre has an aneurysm and nearly has his home broken into. Bridgerton. MyPillow CEO is a douche. Covid restrictions extended indefinitely. Captain Von Trapp dies. Proud Boys officially a Terrorist Organization. Richard Ramirez. Cancer takes Screech. Travel bans. Impeachment trial (again?… oh and this was barely February? WTF??!!) Suez Canal blockage. Myanmar protest. Kong dukes it out with Godzilla, while Raya watches. Olympics. Friends compare elective surgeries. F9. Canada Women’s Soccer Gold. Free Britney. Multiverses. Residential Schools in Canada unearth children’s bodies. Kate is Mare of Easttown. Cuomo resigns. Disney and Dwayne cruise together. Wildfires. Delta variants. Musk passes Bezos. Candyman x 5. Capt. Kirk goes to space. F*ck Kyle Rittenhouse. Astros didn’t win. Squid Game. Goodbye Bond. Dune is redone. Angelina is Eternal. Astroworld deaths. Meta. Omicron. Three Spidermen. Tornados in December? World Juniors cancelled. Pills against Covid. School opening delayed. And Betty White dies. 2022… my expectations are ridiculously low…

2022

Wow… eight billion people. Queen Elizabeth II passes away after ruling the Commonwealth before dirt was invented. The monkeypox. Russia plays the role of global a**hole. Wordle. Mother Nature rocks Afghanistan. Hover bike. Styles spits on Pine. Olivia Newton John, Kristie Alley, and Coolio leave us. Pele was traded to team Heaven. FTX implodes. Madonna and the 3-D model of her vagina. Pig gives his heart to a human. Beijing can brag that it is the first city ever to host both the Summer Olympics and Winter Olympics. Uvalde. $3 trillion Apple. Keith Raniere gets 120 years. The Whisky War ends with Canada and Denmark going halfsies. Mar-a-Lago. Nick Cannon brood hits a dozen. Shinzo Abe is assassinated. Inflation goes through the roof (if you can actually afford to put a roof over your head). Volodymyr Zelensky. European heat wave. Bennifer. Salman Rushdie is stabbed on stage, Dave Chappelle tackled, and Chris Rock is only slapped. Thích Nhất Hạnh. Heidi Klum goes full slug. Cuba knocked out by Ian. Liz Truss and 4.1 Scaramuccis. Taylor Swift breaks Ticketmaster. Human shitstain Elon Musk ignores helping mankind and buys Twitter instead. Riri becomes a mommy. NASA launches Artemis 1. Trump still a whiny little b*tch. Music lost Loretta Lynn, Christine McVie, and Meat Loaf. Democracy died at least three times. Pete Davidson continues to date hottest women on the planet (no one understands how?!) Microplastics in our blood. Alex Jones is a c*nt. So is DeSantis. Argentina wins the World Cup. Meghan and Harry. Eddie Munson rips Metallica in the Upside Down. tWitch. Roe vs Wade is overturned by the micro dick energy of the Supreme Court. CODA. James Corden shows he is a "tiny Cretin of a man". Amber (and the sh*t on the bed) Heard (round the world). Sebastian Bear-McClard proves he’s one of the f*cking dumbest men alive. Latin America's ‘pink tide’. Anti-Semitic rants by Ye. Bob Saget. A verified blue checkmark. Godmother of punk Vivienne dies. And, Tom Cruise feels the need for speed yet again. 2023… whatcha got for us?!? Nothing shocks me anymore.

@daily-esprit-descalier

[preciouslandmermaid]

cold secrets, warm light (simon “ghost” riley x f!reader) - part 2/3

Note: This got longer than expected, so now it’s gonna be 3 chapters instead of 2. LMAO.  This takes place in the same universe as cold hands, warm heart and is seen as a continuation of that fic. 

Rating/Warning: Canon typical violence, blood/injury/and minor gore. Thigh grinding and making out.  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) haha ! nice! (also those gloves make me feral)

** All the names of politicians are fake/do not relate to any living or deceased person. I also created 2 entire locations because I don’t want to use the real world lmao. (Al-Qunbar & Noreth)

No use of Y/N. Reader is described as muscular/toned with scars from active combat/torture, and no other descriptors are used.

(Read on Ao3) ||| 🔪🔪🔪

~~~~~~~~~

In the days that follow, you settle into a routine with Ghost and Soap at the safe house. Samira looked after Soap. She attended to his medical needs and physical therapy. He’s a decent patient until his frustration boils over and then he’s huffing like an old goat and crossing his arms. Agathi’s boys worked the farmland. They shovel manure, or prune plants, or tend to the harvest. The security of the safe house is organized into scheduled shifts. The perimeter of the property, the barn, and the house itself are your main concerns.

However, Ghost took over the sniper position at the barn. Instead of following the six-hour schedule, he stayed up there for twelve to fourteen hours. When he returns to the house, he talks to Soap, rests, then returns to the barn without speaking to anyone else. You don’t take it personally. Ghost is a diligent operative. He never wavers. He never falters. You are safer, Lukas is safer, with him here.  

Your nails are encrusted with dark, rich earth from digging up carrots with James and Lukas. Lukas’ favorite task is to unearth food you’ve grown. He smiles brightly, holding aloft potatoes or carrots or stalks of green onions, and you cannot help but smile in return. He is a sweet and tender boy. And its awe inspiring someone so sweet and gentle could come from you. A trained killer. A girl made of ice. A woman without identity, without roots.

You skim your dirty hands across the stalks of tall reeds while walking down the dirt, pebble-strewn road. A lone bird calls out to signal that night is upon them and the predators will awaken soon. Your smile tugs errantly at the corners of your mouth.

The sky is bruising purple and dusky blue. The clouds on the horizon promised rain. You can smell in the air – fresh, biting, and green. You unscrew the cap of your flask and swallow a warm, robust mouthful of black tea. The dilapidated barn leans against a backdrop of dying sunlight like a wounded animal. Sven emerges from the grass with a sheepish smile. His blue eyes dart briefly to the barn loft.

He says, “time for shift change already?”

“I’m early.” You ruffle his stringy, blonde hair. “Go on. Your brother is waiting.”

Sven flushes bright red.  “Thanks.”

You watch him jog down the road with a flashlight in his hand. You check under the tire well of the abandoned truck and find the hidden pistol. You check the safety and clip. You tuck it away again. Price, the thoughtful bastard, managed to arrange a covert supply drop. Ghost collected it earlier in the week. It contained ammunition, infrared lights, night vision scopes, and supplies for Soap and Ghost.

Price can get into serious trouble by his superiors if anyone finds out about it.

You aren’t sure why he keeps sticking his neck out to help you, but you’re grateful. You think of Lukas. You wonder if he suspects anything. Samira often says fondly, ‘it’s as if God took the blueprints of you and made him.’ You don’t see it. And whenever you tell Samira this, she laughs, and her scarred skin stretches with joy.

The wooden ladder creaks when you ascend it. Ghost is perched with his sniper and completely unmoving. Your nostrils itch as the scent of old, dusty hay fills them. You sniffle and wipe your nose with your knuckles.

“All clear,” drawls Ghost.

“Yes, I know. I was just outside.”

Ghost scoffs. You settle crossed legged next to him. You glance at his stark black-and-white profile. His sandy eyelashes flutter against his black-painted skin. Your body hums with acute unspoken desire. You trace the shapes of his tattoos on his forearm. You would give anything to touch him and feel the hot expanse of his skin across your palms. You’ve lain awake in your cold bed, tossing, and turning and coiled with taut desire, and wondered if he’d shun you if you came to find him. But you always manage to talk yourself out of it.

There’s no benefit in complicating matters further. Noreth is at war. You and Lukas can’t leave. Soap and Ghost can’t leave. The best course of action is to lay low and keep safe until extraction. You swallow another gulp of tea and watch the cloudy, star dotted horizon and swaying tall grass.  

“What’re you drinking?”

“Tea.” You wipe your mouth with your fingers.

“Nothing stronger?” He grouses.

“We’ve got vodka back at the house.”

He gives a small shake of his head. “Foul.”

You extend your arm toward him, the flask pinched between your fingers, and Ghost glances sidelong at you. Seconds pass. You’re about to pull it away. But then Ghost reaches and accepts the flask without touching you. You force yourself to look away rather than look at him. You imagine the shape of his lips closing over the mouth of the flask. You imagine his muscled throat shifting when he swallows. You imagine him wiping away a teardrop of tea from the corner of his mouth with his gloved thumb. You wait until you hear the sound of the cap screwing back on before looking at him again.

His mask is pushed up to right below his nose. His jaw is shadowed with dark blonde stubble. You recall how it scratched against your bare skin and left faint, irritated red lines. You avert your eyes.  

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” He mumbles.

You shrug, “things have changed.”

“Have they?” He says and the words are deep and rumbling. You take the flask from him and drink to delay answering his question. Things have changed. You are no longer an intelligence agent. You deserted. You have a child. You have good people relying on you. You have a reason beyond survival to carve a place for yourself in this new world.

“A bit.” You respond vaguely. The silence stretches, weighted and poignant, and you crack your knuckles one finger at a time. It never used to be awkward with Simon. Or has nostalgia completely skewed your perception? Or is it your guilt? Your fingertips touch when you pass the flask again. An electric jolt fires across your skin. You meet his heavily lidded, shadowed eyes. The unsaid words and confessions linger on your tongue. The distance between you is miniscule. It’s mere inches, but it feels like an endless chasm. You risk the danger and shift closer.

His skeletal gloved fingers graze along the feverish skin on your inner wrist.

“We shouldn’t complicate things.” You blurt. Your secret presses on every of your chamber of your heart. His presses his lips together and cocks his head to the side.

“We’re well past that, Lux.”

“There are things you don’t know about me, Ghost.”

The rough texture of his gloves glides up to your shoulder, lightly touching your neck, and you feel his index finger slide under the golden chain of your necklace. Your pulse throbs in your carotid artery. The moth charm twirls, pretty and light, between Simon’s large fingers.

“I’m not saying this to be coy or mysterious, Riley.” When you use his name, his eyes dart from your throat to your face, and you feel every ounce of his attention on you. You feel like a butterfly pinned to a display frame.

A hot and prickly sensation burns in your throat, “I have secrets you’d hate me for keeping.” You whisper.

You swallow with some difficulty. His tongue sweeps across his lower, chapped lip before he pulls his lower lip between his teeth briefly. Your heart stutters.  You force your eyes from his mouth.

“I doubt that very much.” His voice is rumbling, and quiet, and its reverberation echoes into your spine. Your skin burns. Your breath, ragged and warm ,drags itself through your lungs and out your parted lips. You tilt forward and press your forehead against the cool, hard plastic of his mask. Your eyes shutter closed.

Simon says your name longingly. His breath tickles your chin. Your heart pangs to tell him the truth about Lukas, about Al-Qunbar, about Price and his help. Yet, pragmatism pinches your tongue in a vice grip. Lukas’ safety and well-being is everything to you. The less people who know the truth the better.

His lips ghost across yours. His stubble is prickly and rough. Without further prompting or encouragement, you kiss him and slide your tongue between his lips. You tremble and your breath huffs desperately through your nostrils. You hold his jaw. You need him close. You want to wrap your bodies together and remain glued. An overwhelming sensation of bliss floods through your veins. Simon’s tongue moves languidly and tastes of robust black tea. He squeezes the back of your neck, holding you tight and refusing to let you pull away. A heady sense of warmth explodes inside your chest and launches your heart into a tailspin.

You throw your leg over his big thigh, straddling it, and Simon makes a low, pleased sound at the back of his throat. His other hand clutches your hip—tight, possessive, his thumb digs into your flesh. He pitches your hips forward, then pushes back, and you quickly get the idea. You clothed cunt grinds against his muscled thigh. You encircle your arms around his neck, pressed chest-to-chest, and feel Simon’s every rough inhale and exhale. Your original plan to remain distant and uncomplicated has crashed and burned into ash and charcoal.

His tongue flicks obscenely and wetly into your open, panting mouth. “Can you come like this?” He asks, “or do you want my hand, hm? My fingers?” The thought of Simon’s hand shoved between your legs is enough to make your body tighten with anticipation and desire. You wonder if he’ll keep the gloves on.

“We have to keep watch.” You whimper.

He chuckles like deep, dark wine. “I can multitask.”

The temptation threatens to drag you underwater. You are swept into the current  of Simon’s influence and your own intoxicating desire. His warm, rough burr. His large and deliberate hands. His strong, muscled arms and legs. His chiseled abdominal muscles quiver as you push your hands up his shirt and touch his hot, damp skin.

“God,” He drags the word out and tilts his head back to look up at you, “you’re gonna kill me, Lux.”

You smile. You are lost in the deep, coffee color of his eyes shadowed by ashen blonde lashes and smudged with black camo paint. They are the same shade as Lukas’. An arrow of guilt spears your heart. What are you doing? Noreth is at war. You’re on watch. You’ll never forgive yourself if Lukas got hurt because you let your lust overwhelm your logic. You clear your throat.

You say, “we – we should wait until we’re inside.” You climb off his leg and adjust your rumpled shirt. “Okay?”

Ghost licks his lips and watches you with dark, hungry eyes. “I’m a sniper. A few hours is nothing.”

“Great.” You reply, your voice tight, “I’m going to walk the perimeter.”

~~~~~~~~

The walk back to the heaven is tense. It is filled with piping hot anticipation and coated in white foam that tastes like a hopeful dream, a beggar’s wish. Two dimly lit windows peer like eyes onto the dead lawn and black skeletal shape of Kaja’s motorbike.

Simon’s palm glides along your lower back and blistering heat floods your stomach. Your body clenches and your clit throbs with pressure and desire. You’ve thought of nearly a dozen different positions and fantasies during your walk. This is unlike your time with the task force. You don’t need to avoid detection. Neither Samira nor Agathi will judge you. Although, for the sake of those sleeping, you resolve to do your best to stay quiet.

The front door opens to the sound of Lukas crying. Agathi is holding him, bouncing softly, and her tired face looks relieved when you cross the threshold.

“Nightmare.” She explains. Lukas reaches his tiny hands toward you.

“I’ve got him.” You bundle Lukas into your arms and kiss his flushed, sticky-with-tears cheek. You glance apologetically toward Ghost. Perhaps this is for the best. Maybe you shouldn’t sleep together. Maybe this was some unseen force ensuring that you and Ghost remain uncomplicated. Maybe it’s saving you from breaking your heart again. Once Soap is clear, Ghost will leave. You know it. You believe it.  

You sway Lukas in your arms and mutter softly.

~~~~~~~~~

Ghost stands frozen in the doorway. The boy has his eyes. And the realization is like a leech. He cannot shake it. He cannot bear to be in the same room as you and the crying child. The child with his eyes. He stalks down the hall and ducks into the small room arranged for him and Soap.

Soap is asleep. He’s glad for it. He doesn’t want questions. His breath his ragged and edged like shrapnel in his lungs. His skin is flushed and stretched uncomfortably over his bones. You held Lukas sweetly. You kissed his face. You showed him more affection than James or Sven. How did he not see it earlier?

Lukas looks nothing like Sven or James or Agathi. He looks like you. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t. You must’ve had a child with someone during your time in Al-Qunbar. He scowls. The maths didn’t add up there either. He guessed Lukas’ age is close to 3. Lukas would be younger if you gave birth to him in Al-Qunbar. Then when? With whom?

He swallows thickly and recalls your short time together. Lukas can’t be his. Can’t be. Can’t. He’s not fit to be a father. He’s a dangerous man. A killer. And a damn good one at that. His palms are sweaty and clammy. He peels off his skeletal gloves and tucks them into the back pocket of his pants. He chews his tongue with his back molars.

If Lukas is yours then he doubts the agency knows. A child is a target. A vulnerability. He starts cleaning one of his guns to keep his hands busy. The gun oil is slick and warm against his fingers. He clears his dry, uncomfortable throat. He thinks about your weighted words in the barn. You mentioned you had a secret. You said it was something he’d hate you for.

His slick, oiled hands move purposefully over the metal. His gaze flicks upward to Soap. He watches his chest breathing evenly beneath the dark sheets. They will stay here for a few weeks and then they’d leave. He can endure it.  

You were never meant to have a reunion. And he is a fool for wishing for anything other than what he got. Regardless of who Lukas belongs to—he’s no one’s father. He’s not destined for a civilian life. He’s comfortable in the danger. He’s comfortable wearing the mask. He likes it too much to walk away.

He can’t go and live on a farm and change nappies. That’s not who he is. And he won’t bring danger to your doorstep. But he doesn’t want to say goodbye again. He doesn’t want you to disappear. Ghost sighs heavily and sets the pistol on his bouncing knee.

He needs to talk to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It took an hour to get Lukas back to sleep. You settle into one of the wooden chairs on your small, porch balcony outside your bedroom and watch the darkness and swaying grass. You roll the night vision scope between your palms and feel the roughed, grip texture. You peer through it ever-so-often toward the barn. You consider joining Kaja, but you don’t want to leave Lukas in case he has another nightmare.

A floorboard creaks. The smell of gun oil permeates the air. Ghost sits in the chair beside you.

He asks, “what’s the story between the kids here? They got family on the outside?”

You bite your lip. “Not really.”

“What about their dad?”

“Agathi’s husband is dead.” You explain.

Ghost rests his elbows on his knees, “and the small one?”

You chose your next words carefully. “He’s alive. I tell him his dad is a soldier working hard to keep everyone safe.”

Ghost stares at you, unblinking, and his gaze is like holding a lit cigar to your skin.

“That the truth?” says Ghost gruffly.

The crickets chirp, a chorus, a symphony, lonely and desperate for connection.

“The truth would hurt everyone, ” You shrug.

“It would hurt him.” You look meaningfully over your shoulder toward Lukas’ bedroom door adjacent to your room.

Simon’s tone is commanding and harsh as nails, “tell me the truth.”

You squeeze your eyes closed. A swirl of black and purple spots spin on the canvas of your eyelids. You had hoped to avoid this conversation. But Simon has connected the dots and you played your hand too heavily when you told him you carried a guilty secret.

“Do you remember Al-Qunbar?” You ask.

He hums, “Mhm.”

It was the last place you and Ghost met. A city of dust and smoke, a marble fountain that gurgled with blood.

“I was Qadir’s mistress,” you begin, referring to the politician that governed Al-Qunbar, “that was my cover. It was not uncommon in their culture for people of power, regardless of gender, to have multiple partners or spouses. And they considered multiple children as a sign of virility and good fortune.”

You inhale slowly. This is the part of the story that is like traversing a minefield. You’ve imagined telling him, but never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d get the chance.

“Qadir had many children. But his regime was unstable. I begged him to send the children away. I groveled.” Your voice quivers and tears sting your eyes like wasps. You bite down on your lower lip and compose yourself.

“Qadir refused. He said we’d all go together in the end. He gave poison disguised as medicine to his wives, his mistresses, his personal guards…his children…his children…”

You knew those children. You cared for them. You scrub a hand over your face. Finding the courage to topple dictators or stare at the barrel of a loaded gun is easy. But looking at Simon is impossible. You focus on a spot in the dark, starry horizon. The high grass that surrounds your property sways like whispering dancers.

“I knew I couldn't’ save them all, so I chose Lukas.”

“Samira helped. She was Qadir’s midwife and served in his military as a doctor. The day Qadir was assassinated, I got Lukas out, but I couldn’t leave Al-Qunbar. Not yet. The extremists, the loyalists, the American agents. None of them could know he was alive. I need to make it seem like everyone in Qadir’s family perished in the uprising.”

The wooden chair creaks like an old ship underneath Simon’s weight.

“You were the one who torched his compound.” He says. It’s not a question. You wonder if he read the file. You wonder if anyone told him your undercover name and saw you were listed under ‘killed in action’. You wonder if Price mentioned his part in helping you escape from under the thumb of imperialism.

You nod. You burned Qadir’s house, and all the bodies within, and fled. You earned yourself a deep wound from a sniper at the town square before you reunited with Ghost’s team.

Simon scoffs, “I think you’re a bit of an arsonist, Lux.”

You recognize his attempt at humor, but you can’t summon the energy to smile. You’ve told him the background, you’ve set the stage, but you haven’t brought the main actors into the play. You haven’t revealed the truth.

Your voice scratches as it travels up your throat. “I told Qadir the baby was his, but the timing was off.”

“He’s yours, Simon.” You finish weakly and your heart capsizes inside your chest, “he’s ours.”

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t look away. The mask hides everything from you and his eyes are guarded and cold. He will hate you. You are sure of it. He will hate you for lying, for not contacting him, for keeping Lukas.

You lift the night vision scope to your face to hide your hurt expression.

~~~~~~~~~

“Shit!” You jolt upright, blood pounds in your ears, and your eyes swivel across the black landscape. You peer through the night vision binoculars to assure you saw Kaja’s signal accurately. You’re not mistaken. She flashed her infrared twice. Trouble.

“What is it?” Ghost is beside you, alert.

“Kaja is in trouble.”

He huffs. You think there’s a question poised in his eyes, but then a burst of gunfire illuminates the darkness like white fireworks. You drop like a stone into fight-or-flight. You run into the adjoining bedroom and scoop Lukas into your arms, waking him, and he cries – startled – in your arms. There is nothing inside your head beyond the checklist of tasks you must complete for your sons’ safety.

“It’s alright, lovey. It’s just a storm.” You assure him.

You barrel down the hallway. James and Sven step into the hallway with Agathi clutching their shoulders. You swerve pass them, taking the steps hurriedly, your heartbeat thundering in your ears and drowning out the sounds of Lukas’ tears and the encroaching gunfire. You don’t bother to look behind you or check for Ghost. He doesn’t know the household protocol, but he can handle himself in a fight. You aren’t worried about him.

“If you get out of that wheelchair, I’ll kill you myself.” Samira snaps. She shoves a loaded shotgun into Soap’s hand. “Protect the little ones.”

You duck into the basement. The door is heavily fortified, and along with supplies, the back left corner equipped with an escape tunnel.

“Alright, there, there, sweet boy.” You kiss the side of Lukas’ head, “it’s going to be alright.” You bounce in him in your arms, kissing and repeating platitudes, promising him that everything will be OK. You never expected motherhood to come equipped with so many desperate lies.

Agathi opens her arms for him.

Lukas’ little fingers cling to your neck, unintentionally scratching, and he is grabbing your shirt, red-faced and screaming. You pry him off. Your heart breaks. Your mouth is dry. You swallow your tears as Agathi cradles your son to her chest and rocks him. Her steely blue eyes meet yours—fierce, red-rimmed, and determined. You share a meaningful, wordless look. You’ve always known the role you would play if shit hit the fan. Agathi and Samira are the protectors.

And you?

You’re the fucking executioner.

“Be safe.” James says, squeezing your hand once before you hurry upstairs. The second your foot hits the landing, Samira shuts the door and extinguishes her lamp. In near-darkness, Sven tosses a body armor vest toward you. You clip it hastily, grabbing equipment from the case, and affixing it to your body. You grab a few extra throwing knives and tuck them into the holster on your chest.

Ghosts’ footfalls are quick and deceptively quiet as he comes downstairs, “counted five approaching.”

“There’s likely more with Kaja.” Samira says knowingly, pinning her dark hair away from her face and scowling.

“What’s the plan?” asks Soap.

“Defend the house.” You nod toward the basement door, “this door especially. If there’s any risk of breaching, hit the switch here, and they know to get the fuck out.”

You walk confidently backwards and toward the door, “if I don’t come back—assume I’m dead and don’t come looking for me.”

You spin on your heel and slip through the partially ajar door. You knew the conflict would eventually reach your doorstep, but you wish it hadn’t happened when you had so much to lose inside. Their flashlights cut through reeds of tall grass and flicker like ghosts across the lawn. They’re shouting at each other in Noreth’s native language. You’re not fluent, but you get an idea of the instruction, and you weave through the grass. Your fingers curl around the knife’s grip.  

A low hum of insects buzz around your sweaty face and tall grass whispers as you move through it. You sharpen your focus. The moon illuminates the silent battlefield in a ghastly, blue-white subdued glow. You taste salt on your lips. You cling onto the memory of Simon’s warm, deep eyes. If you died here, or fucked it up, he’d never let you hear the end of it.

You catch your breath in your lungs. You attack, swift and deadly, your knife plunging wetly into your target’s chest. You vanish into the grass, crouched low, and using the light breeze to your advantage. You move with the wind, in bleached moonlight, and you strike down his partner before the others notice. The assailants approaching the front yard were easy. They spread themselves thin, they were too jumpy, and they held their rifles awkwardly. You surmised based on their gait and posture that they were newer—likely fresh recruits.

The three approaching the back entrance wouldn’t be so simple. They move cohesively with experience. You weigh your odds. You can kill one, but the other two will engage with you. If this had been any other mission, you would divert their attention slowly, pick them off using traps and tricks. However, the sands of time are pouring through your fingers, and you’ve got people inside to protect. A man you want to talk to, a child you want to raise, a friend you need to see again.

You test the weight of the throwing knife in your palm. It’s risky. But what choice do you have? These fuckers likely have reinforcements at the barn. Kaja is in danger. You grit your jaw and find the best position among swishing grass and damp, spongy earth.

You wait for the flashlight to illuminate his partner. Your knife spins in the dark, twirling, unseen and the target exclaims a short – “Ah!” as the blade sticks into the meat of his shoulder.

It’s off-mark. You leap to the second target, spry and agile. You are a weapon of death, a herald of doom. Your knife cuts across his throat in brutal efficiency and soaks your wrist in hot blood. You pivot, tucking your arm, and use the target’s body as a meat shield as they fire several rounds at you. You count the bullets.

He spasms and jerks against you as bullets whiz by and you wait for the reload. They might be experienced, but they’re spooked enough to fire all their ammunition simultaneously. You drop the body the second you hear the resounding click of an empty chamber. You draw your silenced pistol. Your last resort. Your breath catches in your lungs.

There’s only one man in front of you. You fire your shot. It goes through your target’s throat. He gurgles wetly, painfully, before falling backward. You scan the area for the threat, the missing attacker, but suddenly something hits you in the back of the skull.

Sharp and biting pain blossoms and stars dance in front of your vision. Their forearm wraps around your throat, pinning you to their chest, the muzzle of their sidearm pistol against your temple. Your time off the field has made you sloppy. Overconfident. Careless. You mentally berate yourself and plant your feet to try and throw him off before he can pull the trigger.

A bullet rings through the darkness. A torrent of hot blood and chunks of bone splatters wetly onto your cheek and side of your head. Your target collapses into you and you roughly shoulder him away. Half of his skull is missing and his brains and blood gushes over the marshland.

You look toward the house. You can’t see Ghost’s sniper scope in the darkness, but you feel it. You feel him watching. You holster your gun. You walk away from the house and toward the barn. To Kaja. To finish your hunt.

~~~~~~~~~

Ghost watches the flashlights disappear from your window. He has every intention of providing cover fire with his sniper—if you need it. He is watching you through the scope, remembering Spain, and his cold heart pangs weakly. He isn’t sure how he feels about you. He wants to be angry for keeping secrets. But, that’s bollocks, isn’t it? You both come from special ops backgrounds, from troves of classified files, and hell—his identity has been a secret for years. You don’t even know what he looks like. The kid’s got my eyes. There’s some small part of him that carries on throughout the world and you’re the only two people who know about it.

He doesn’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to being angry. You made the right call. You kept the kid—Lukas—safe. His kid. Ghost’s throat threatens to tighten. He shoves it down. The feeling smolders inside his chest. It’s not like it matters. You’ll go your separate ways once Soap is cleared to evac. Assuming everyone lives after this evening, he thinks wryly. He adjusts his hold on his sniper and breathes deeply.

A burst of gunfire crackles in the distance. He swings his scope to the swaying reeds. One of the targets have veered off into the darkness while the other fills his dead friend with bullets. He catches brief flashes of your body, hunched, before you duck from beneath cover and stand—your form exquisite and lethal. A muted flash appears before the muzzle of your gun.

The second target appears from the darkness and grapples you. Ghost holds his breath. His finger hovers over the trigger. The pistol touches your skin. He imagines it firing. He imagines your body going inert and dropping like a sack of rocks into the strangers’ arms. His jaw clenches. He has seconds to react. The targets’ face hovers next to yours.

He fires. An explosion of blood and brain and bone spews around your head. You knock the body contemptuously away and somehow manage to meet his eyes through the rifle scope. Ghost’s heart thumps painful and hard into his ribs. You’re half-covered in someone else’s blood like the final girl in a slasher horror film. He thinks of kissing you. You turn and vanish into the darkness. He releases the breath he was holding.

Samira swings into the room, hand clutching the doorframe, “Ghost.” She says, “I need you to go to the barn.” Her tone brokers no argument. Despite that, however, he still says…

“Why?”

“Kaja’s not back yet which means she didn’t escape.”

“How’d you know?”

Samira huffs, “we have a system of triggers and alarms and codes. She hasn’t signaled the all-clear.”

“Could mean she’s dead.”

Her gaze darkens, “they do not often kill women in Noreth. They make them suffer first. Go. An order, Ghost. It’s an order.”

He dislikes taking orders from her, but Samira has your trust, and that means something. And although you claim you don’t have a hierarchy at the haven, it’s clear they look to you for leadership, and Samira is your second.

His head is still fucked from everything. But he’s thankful for the clarity of battle—of conflict and fighting—it gives him something to focus on. He follows the tracks you made through the grass. The air smells like car exhaust fumes, and gun smoke, and dark, damp earth.

“Leave her alone!” Your voice jabs into his gut like a well-placed and serrated knife. Ghost moves silently through the brush. His blood is hot and pounding in his neck.

The glaring headlamps of their truck illuminates your bruised face. Your teeth glisten wet and red. There is more blood covering you, but he can’t tell what’s yours and what isn’t. Someone has you pinned to the ground, your hands behind your back, and your legs are pinned by a second body. The man in front of you drops to a crouch and speaks lowly. Ghost doesn’t hear what he says. Your gaze hardens and your lips press into a tight line.

Your eyes move past the man speaking to you. Your gaze strikes his through the blades of swaying grass and encroaching, tall weeds. Your eyes are red-rimmed and filled with vengeful tears like the oil-painting of Lucifer.

“Bring them both in!” The man pinches your jaw roughly, his tone scathing, “You will sing like a songbird for me, little viper.”

Your jaw shifts. You spit a bloody glob of salvia into his face.

“Bitch!” He yells. He back-hands you, and you head lolls sideways into the dirt, wheezing, a fresh cut blooms on your lower lip. Rage burns through him, hot and corrosive, across every limb, every nerve, until he’s certain the dry vegetation around him is going to burst into flames. He’s never wanted to tear somebody limb-from-limb before. Not ‘till this moment.

He’s shaking. He realizes it almost distantly, like he’s not inside his body, like he’s viewing everything from a sniper’s scope but he’s without his calculated, cold ease. A voice inside his head informs him of the amount of bullets he has, the target locations, and the cover the barn could provide.

Kaja’s lilting voice appears from somewhere near the back of the truck—her words are thick with phlegm and barely distinguishable—but Ghost can tell she’s begging. He can hear it in her tone, how she sobs around the broken syllables. It’s not you who will break. It’s Kaja. Young, inexperienced Kaja. Another voice inside his head tells him he needs to silence her before she blows his cover or more importantly, your cover and the safety of Lukas. There’s only one target with Kaja and his back is to the shadows. Big mistake.

He shifts into the dark, lush undergrowth. He circles around the barn. You’re still goading the leader. He suspects you’re doing it to keep the focus away from Kaja, to take her pain, because you know she’s fragile and you’re trained to take it. He hears your brusque, insulting tone and it is nearly always followed with the sharp, biting sound of his skin striking yours. His heartrate skyrockets.

He’s shaking again. He bites his lower lip, tasting copper and salt, and it forcefully yanks him back to reality. He creeps through the darkness. He strikes. His large palm covers the target’s mouth, dragging him backward into the shadows, he snaps his neck quickly and efficiently. He drags the body into the grass and approaches the truck bed where Kaja is tied with a black canvas bag over her head.

“Please!” She’s trembling. “We’re just a little farm! We’re not rebels!”

Ghost yanks the bag over her head. She meets his gaze with glossy, frightened eyes. He motions one finger to his mouth. He doesn’t have time to cut the ropes that dig into her bony, bird-like wrists. He grabs her and pulls her from the truck. The weight is shifted and the springs beneath the back tires groan and squeak.

His blood curdles with the abrupt sound of your scream when his boots hit the grass. Every instinct in him wants to—to drop Kaja and fire every bullet into the men that circle you like hungry lions. He resists. If you’re screaming, then it’s part of the act. You wouldn’t give these slimy assholes the satisfaction. He believes that.

He drags Kaja into the darkness.

“We need to go back!” She whispers harshly when they’re several minutes away from the barn, “untie me. We need to save her.”

Ghost says nothing.

<< Part Three (Final) >> 

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

TAG LIST: @k1llerch4n // idk why sometimes it looks like it works and othertimes it DONT.    @iwantmethgivememeth // @levisbebe // @solidly-indulgent​ 

[mermaidsirennikita]

Can you recommend a few books with amazing Fellatio scenes?

For sure!

Thief of Shadows by Elizabeth Hoyt probably still has my favorite historical BJ scene. He cries because it was his first orgasm with another person and that's a Lot; she cries because she's emotional and also because like, you know, gag reflex stuff. They're super close to being caught by people. It's GREAT. Tbh though, Elizabeth Hoyt writes generally solid to great ones.

I mean, let us also not forget the scene in Duke of Pleasure wherein the hero is like "oh no the bad guys are about to catch us" so she just starts blowing him to make it look like she's a street wench or whatever they're trying for, and once the guys leave he's like "okay you can stop". And she. Does. Not.

New Camelot by Sierra Simone has several of my favorite BJ scenes. Most likely the "blindfold 'im with a novelty Mount Rushmore tie and go down on him to express your *eternal* gratitude" blow job is the best one, but I also really love the "the mighty Maxen Colchester has a gag reflex" [*cut to the mighty Maxen Colchester glaring balefully*] scene.

Naturally, Sierra's Salt Kiss has great scene in this context, and her Thornchapel series has some of the most "this is sinning" fellatio scenes I'e ever read. Like. The one where they're spit-roasting a priest is honestly not the most sinful BJ in that series. And speaking of that, her book Saint has an amazing scene in which ex-boyfriends, one of whom is a current monk, act out a "I'm a naughty monk and you're tempting me" fantasy BJ in like, the great outdoors lmao.

Mila Finelli's Kings of Italy has great ones. Like, full "you look so pretty like this" scenes, smudged makeup, love it.

Act Your Age by Eve Dangerfield literally begins with the heroine blowing her boss while calling him daddy without realizing that it is, in fact, her boss.

Give Me More by Sara Cate is an MMF romance with a couple of truly iconic blow job scenes, including hits like "giving my best friend head in the dark" and "my best friend goes down on me after his wife decks my dick out with whipped cream".

All of the Mackenzie brother books by Jennifer Ashley have good ones, but Lady Isabella's Scandalous Marriage probably has my favorite in the series because Mac is a Whiny Squirmy Hero.

Kennedy Ryan writes great ones in her All the King's Men duology--including one with the thing we don't see enough of in m/f romance novels (heroes getting their asses fingered).

Oh SPEAKING of that there's an amazing BJ scene in Kristen Callihan's The Friend Zone that includes the same thing. The man almost like, dies.

Cate Sebastian's The Queer Principles of Kit Webb has one of my favorite BJ scenes because Percy is a throat goat who happens to be going down on a man who's afraid of hurting him so he has to be like "YOU UNDERESTIMATE MY POWER" about it.

Grace Callaway's books are generally great in this regard. I once compared an enthusiastic but inexperienced Grace Callaway heroine trying to go down on her hero to someone attempting the chubby bunny challenge. And I'm correct there, and boy do their heroes love it (while also being like, "she's objectively kinda bad at this").

Joanna Shupe's books usually have good fellatio scenes (oh, and she's also Mila Finelli). The Duke Gets Even and The Devil of Downtown especially win out in this regard.

[mendes-bae]

A fair exchange – epilogue

series masterlist ; part seven

Part seven summary: the war is over, maybe it's time to look forward.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x (F) Targaryen!reader

Warning: incest, .

This is not the true ending of The Dance of the Dragons, it's just a reinterpretation ⚠️

Author's note: I want to thank everyone who read this fic, you have no idea how much it means to me. Thank you for every ❤ and every comment, it melted my heart. See you very soon on the blog with new stories 😊

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! this is my first time writing a fic in English, so beforehand, i'm sorry 👀

All the rights belong to the showrunners of HOTD and George R.R Martin, author of Fire and blood & Song of ice and fire series ‼️

Word count: 1075

Five years after Rhaenyra I's coronation — Lys Island.

Aemond watched the twins Jaehaera and Jaehaerys play with Velarys on the seashore, while Aethan and Khaenys built sand castles a few yards away with Maelor.

The exiled prince watched his wife enjoy herself, with coastal wind blowing the skirt of her linen dress and salt water splashing her skin making it glow, happier than ever.

After Queen Rhaenyra issued a pardon, they both decided to leave the capital with the little children of her late sister, because without Helaena and Aegon the little ones had been left orphans. Every night when the children were tucked in, Aemond remembered his wife's words when they placed their nephews and niece under their protection: "In the past I lost two children, and these children have lost their mother, it is our destiny to be together."

Aemond couldn't help but feel the same way, he loved sweet Helaena's children as if they were his own and just thinking that they might be alone in this world made him shudder.

He could watch them run, listen to them laugh and scream for hours. Khaenys was so similar to her sister Ellarys that sometimes he could swear he could see her reflected in the little one, they both had a sweet and innocent personality that characterized them. His older brother by only one year, Aethan, was a curious child, who liked to play pranks on his sister but when the little girl shed a tear, he was the most protective ser in the Seven Kingdoms. They were both very close and it was something that made him happy because he had not been able to have that closeness with his own brother.

Jaehaera looked too much like her lovely mother while her twin brother was the complete opposite, he could fight with sticks alongside his cousin all afternoon pretending to be knights in shining armor. On the other hand, Maelor was a special case, as Velarys had formed a great bond with him.

The boy was only months old when his mother died and the war ended. When they adopted the little ones, Maelor cried for her mother's breast but the only thing the couple could do to calm his hunger was to give him goat's milk, however he refused it. For a while, Velarys and Aemond thought the baby was starving, but suddenly milk gushed from the Targaryen princess's breasts and they knew they were expecting Aethan. Velarys nursed the child as if it were her own, for which their relationship became extremely strong and the moment Maelor began to crawl he followed her throughout the small house they had been able to build.

They lived on an islet in Lys, a small island off Essos. There was no civilization around, a little piece of paradise just for them. If they looked across the Narrow Sea to the horizon, they could see Sunspear's shores in Dorne.

They had to navigate their small boat to get supplies in the nearest city, only a few kilometers away.

They lived on what they could catch in the day and what the merchants in the port paid them. It wasn't much and they didn't have a palatial life, but they had everything they needed to have a happy life.

Rhaenyra knew of the existence of their children and how her sister was, so very often, ravens would arrive with letters from the Queen and with small bags of gold that Velarys kept but never used.

Velarys often wondered if he had done the right thing in leaving Westeros, but each time her children hugged them and spoke tenderly to them, she was convinced that she had saved them from a life surrounded by greed.

"Mommy, look what I found" Khaenys said, running in her bare feet towards her mother.

Aemond walked up to his family.

"It's a turtle... maybe one day it will grow as big as Vaghnar" she exclaimed looking at the small animal.

Velarys, who was paying full attention to her now, laughed at the idea of her little four-year-old daughter.

"Of course, love" the princess stroked her soft hair.

The girl looked excitedly at her mother and ran to her brothers to show them her great find. Aemond wished that they could continue to be children longer, he loved the mischief that all of his children shared and feared that they would eventually lose it.

￮ ੭ 𓈒 ˙ 🐉🐉🐉 ˳ ⊹ ˚ 𝅄

When Aemond awoke to find his wife not beside him in bed, he was concerned. He got up with a naked torso because he used to sleep without a shirt due to the heat at night. He looked out the window and saw the dragon with green scales under the cloud line, on its back Velarys Targaryen. He had always loved seeing her hair fly in the wind and watching her thighs cling to her dragon's body, she looked powerful and imposing.

She no longer rode her dragon as often as before, in fact Vaghnar was the one who visited her on the small island they lived on. As far as he knew the beast flew from Sothoryos, the continent teeming with wild dragons and such creatures that his eyes saw only on books pages.

When Vhagar had died at the queen's command years before (punishment he had accepted for Lucerys' merciless death), Vaghnar left the island and was not seen for weeks. Velarys did not blame him, she understood well what mourning was.

One morning when Velarys awoke she saw her dragon asleep on the shore. The princess walked up to the animal and caressed it gently, he looked peaceful. Vaghnar opened his eyes and looked at her, giving her permission to ride his back. Velarys accepted the dragon's terms, he had always been a free beast.

Aemond walked to the shore when dragon and rider landed, Velarys smiled at him and waved goodbye to Vaghnar as she did not know when she would see him again.

"Good morning" Velarys said when she was in front of her husband.

"Good morning, my love" Aemond replied, taking her by the waist and hugging her against his chest.

Aemond kissed her forehead and smell her perfume, enjoying her company.

They were embraced watching the sunrise, and both wanted to feel this peace for the rest of their lives because they had already suffered enough, the little paradise could guarantee them that and they were not thinking of giving it up never in a million years.

The end.

Taglist

@mynameisbaby9 @princessmiaelicia @sustisama @deeeeexx @zverea @daddysfavoritesexkitten @tempo-rary-fix @stargaryenx @filmelunar @yor72 @remuslupinwifee @fuckinglittlekitten @may-machin @kaitieskidmore1 @zillahvathek @marvelita85 @25falsafielisa @solacestyles @polireader @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @loomipee @leoramage @iiamthehybrid @darylandbethfanforever9 @bregarc @justpassinbxx @sandronebabyy @ms-dont-care @julianaaleticia @nctma15 @isaxbella749 @maviee @gimalo135 @fedeffy @ladywin17 @tivedetek4869

[yooku-s]

PlageTale━⁠☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡F r i s k

Character Introduction: Frisk in "PlageTale"

† "PlageTale", is an Undertale Au where Frisk takes on the role of a doctor's apprentice in a world where with the arrival of the plague both on the surface and underground he turned everyone upside down

---

**Name:** Frisk

**Occupation:** Medical Apprentice

Background story:

Frisk, a curious and compassionate human, falls into the underground when he goes to visit one of the many mass graves to try to investigate the disease that endangers humanity, falling due to a slip into one of which turns out to be the underground. where the monsters that humanity had taken care of keeping locked up live.

---

Current "Plage Tale" goals: Frisk travels through the underworld, facing unique medical challenges while trying to avoid the plague that seemed to have reached the underworld one way or another. Him trying to find a way to advance a cure or treatment and at the same time trying to understand how some monsters seem to adapt to it.

---

**Current allies**

Dr. Alphys: A brilliant scientist who helps Frisk with medical knowledge and research for cures.

Napstablook: A melancholic spectrum that provides relaxing music to calm patients.

Mama Toriel: a goat woman who takes care of people who fall into the underground, somewhat nervous and very maternal although you usually have an unhealthy emotional attachment to the people she cares for, she was once the Queen of the underground that is the only thing you know

flowey: lasts the first few minutes you save him from some rats and although he tries to attack he doesn't really cause much damage so you end up adopting him as a possible pet or emergency food.

Monster kid and annoying dogs: they are both like a dog that needs to be taken care of, you like them.

papyrus: I still don't believe he's the younger brother, he's energetic and very curious like a mouse. I like him but I feel like something is screaming that I have to have better dealings with him or I'll be dead.

---

**Current neutrals:**

sans: he doesn't really have an opinion about you or you about him but you feel that he's hiding something else, it's not your problem so you don't mention it nor does he mention anything about you even though his jokes are laughable.

muffet: she doesn't care much about you as long as you buy her meals and "remedies" from her then you will be loved.

monsters in general: they don't care about you and that's it, they are so busy trying to protect themselves from getting sick that you become just another crazy person who thinks they can get a cure, you really think some of them are very irritating.

temmie: I'll just stay away from them...

grillby: he is very quiet but his food is good and he is a good guy.

---

**Current enemies:**

Undyne:she is a very strong girl and she wants me dead blaming me for the infection in the sub floor starting I'm really confused.

infected or guard monsters: they want me dead or infect me.

mettaton: you have no idea how monsters have progressed so much in technology but that machine of smoke and nuts seems to want to split me in two.

king asgore: I've only heard of him but he doesn't seem very happy that more humans are falling, much less falling alive.

---

**??‽‽¿?:**

chara:'at the end of everything I'm still me' I think.

asriel:who was that goat boy in Toriel photo...?

---

**Final Mission:**

Frisk seeks to find the "Panacea of Determination", a unique flower believed to be the solution to the plague. ---

E S P A Ñ O L★★★

**Presentación de Personaje: Frisk en "PlageTale"**

*"PlageTale", es una Au de Undertale donde Frisk asume el rol de un aprendiz de médico en un mundo donde con la llegada de la peste tanto en la superficie como en el subsuelo puso a todos patas arribas*

---

**Nombre:** Frisk

**Ocupación:** Aprendiz de Médico

**Historia de Fondo:**Frisk, un humano curioso y compasivo, cae en el sub suelo cuando va a visitar una de las múltiples fosas comunes para tratar de investigar la enfermedad que pone en peligro a la humanidad callendo por un resbaló a una de esta que resulta ser el sub suelo donde viven los monstruos que la humanidad se había encargado de manter encerrados.

---

**Objetivos actuales "Plage Tale":**Frisk recorre el submundo, enfrentándose a desafíos médicos únicos tratando de evitar la peste que parecía haber llegado de una manera o otra al sub suelo. Intentando buscar manera de avanzar en una cura o tratamiento y a la vez intentando entender cómo los monstruos parecen adaptarse algunos a esta.

---

**Aliados actuales:**

1. *Dr. Alphys:* Una científica brillante que ayuda a Frisk con el conocimiento médico y la investigación de curas.

2. *Napstablook:* Un espectro melancólico que proporciona música relajante para calmar a los pacientes.

3. *Mamá toriel:* una mujer cabra que cuida de la gente que cae al sub suelo, algo nerviosa y muy maternal aunque sueles tener un apego emocional no sano por las personas que cuida, alguna vez fue la Reyna del sub suelo eso es lo único que sabes.

4. *flowey:* dura te los primeros minutos lo salvas de algunas ratas y el aunque intenta atacar realmente no causa mucho daño por lo que lo terminas adoptando como posible mascota o comida de emergencia.

5.*Monster kid and annoying dogs:* los dos son como un perro que hay que cuidar, te caen bien.

6.*papyrus:* sigo sin creerme que sea el hermano menor, es energético y muy curioso como un ratón me cae bien pero siento como si algo gritara que tengo que tener mejor trato con el o estaré muerto.

---

**Neutrales actuales:**

1.*sans:* el realmente no tiene una opinión sobre ti ni tu de el pero sientes que oculta algo más no es problema tuyo por lo que no lo mencionas ni el menciona nada de ti aún haci sus bromas dan risa.

2.*muffet:* a ella no le importas mucho mientras compres sus comidas y "remedios" entoces seras amado.

3*moustros en general:* no les importas y punto, están muy ocupado tratando de cuidarse de enfermarse que tu te vuelves solo otro loco que cree que puede conseguir cura, tu realmente piensa que algunos son muy irritantes.

4.*temmie:* solo me alejare de ellos...

5.*grillby:* el es muy callado pero su comida es buena y es un buen tipo.

---

**Enemigos actuales:**

1. *Undyne:* es una chica muy fuerte y me quiere muerto me culpa de que la infección en el sub suelo comenzar realmente estoy confundido.

2.*moustros infectados o de la guardia:* me quieren muerto o infectar me.

3.*mettaton:* no tienes idea de cómo los monstruos progresaron tanto en la tecnología pero esa maquina de huma y tuercas parece querer revanarme en dos.

4.*rey asgore:* solo he escuchado de el pero no parece muy feliz de que más humanos caigan mucho menos que caigan vivos.

---

**??‽‽¿?:**

1.*chara:* 'a la final de todo sigo siendo yo' creo.

2.*asriel:* quien era ese niño cabra de la foto de toriel...?

---

**Misión Final:**

Frisk busca encontrar la "Panacea de la Determinación", una flor única que se cree es la solución para la peste.

---

[voradtras]

i've seen this character playlist challenge post resurfacing lately so i'd like to expand on the idea and create a more fully-fledged, more difficult challenge that'll hopefully expand your music horizons beyond the usual tumblrcore/fandom music taste

the challenge

create a character playlist of at least twenty (20+) songs without using the artists and genres listed below* in under an hour

("below" meaning below the readmore)

the restrictions

no artist can appear in the playlist twice

you must have at least three (3+) distinct genres in your playlist

you must include at least three (3+) artists with less than 100,000 listeners on spotify

you must include at least three (3+) songs that are primarily in a language other than english

you must include at least one (1+) hip hop/rap song from a non-white person (be creative with this! rap has a diverse range of sounds from doja cat to dr. dre to death grips)

you must include at least one (1+) song thats from a reasonably obscure and/or underground genre (this does not count to your 3+ distinct genres requirement)

some of these restrictions can be met simultaneously (e.g. a spanish rap song fulfills both the non-english language requirement and the hiphop/rap requirement)

feel free to reblog with your playlist in either the tags or the caption! i'd love to see what people come up with :)

restricted artists/genres are below the readmore

restricted genres/categories

video game osts

musical theatre/showtunes

steven universe songs

five nights at freddys songs

disney movie/tv songs

hazbin hotel/helluva boss songs

homestuck songs

anime ops/eds

anything made by lin manuel miranda

anything made by at least one of the beatles

anything produced by jack antonoff

all kpop groups and artists from SM, YG, JYP, and HYBE/big hit

restricted artists

when in doubt, use ctrl-f or a similar find/search function

mother mother

lemon demon/neil cicierega

my chemical romance

fall out boy

panic! at the disco

imagine dragons

bastille

linkin park

paramore

derivakat

billie eilish

mitski

marina

mountain goats

penelope scott

cavetown

florence and the machine

halsey

oh hellos

crane wives

sleeping at last

ajr

will wood

ricky montgomery

hozier

jack stauber

twenty one pilots

idk how but they found me

coldplay

lana del rey

taylor swift

harry styles

glass animals

conan grey

tally hall

cigarettes after sex

arctic monkeys

machine gun kelly

eminem

phoebe bridgers

bo burnham

olivia rodrigo

beebadoobee

mumford and sons

melanie martinez

lovejoy/wilbur soot

beach bunny

mac miller

joji

weezer

ac/dc

nine inch nails

ajj

the weeknd

david bowie

they might be giants

vampire weekend

the chainsmokers

car seat headrest

joy division

maneskin

cosmo sheldrake

led zeppelin

guns and roses

radiohead

the national

cage the elephant

tegan and sara

black country new road

mxmtoon

bill wurtz

muse

rob zombie

the white stripes

oingo boingo

major lazer

zedd

iron maiden

gorillaz

metallica

marshmello

mori calliope

corpse

tones and i

glaive

all time low

simon and garfunkel

lewis capaldi

arcade fire

slipknot

foo fighters

girl in red

death cab for cutie

of monsters and men

ghost

tramp stamps

sufjan stevens

depeche mode

chvrches

oasis

system of a down

rammstein

porter robinson

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Kakashi’s Story- Chapter Four (because i am WEAK)

Margo choosing to fight because sue doesn’t want to leave Nanara is so sweet! Also a pot fir armor is just *chefs kiss* beautiful. Love these villagers.

Kakashi… KAKASHI WHY ARE YOU PUTTING YOUR HEADBAND OVER YOUR LEFT EYE!?

‘The release of the chakra to create a wall that huge would come with some serious shaking and a loud roar’ love that Kakashi’s skills keep getting highlighted in such interesting fun ways.

‘This was incredible chakra control’ i’m going to need every person who doubts Kakashi’s chakra control to write a 500 word apology letter right now 😂😂😂

‘A ninja with hair that was silver like a wolf’s shining in the moonlight and a gaze sleepy like a goat’ i just - these comparisons do not much up but i love it so damn much

‘Who’s winning’ said by the biggest shit of the world, taunting his enemy in his own little way before knocking them out

‘Nah, there’s no way it’s just one person. It’s gotta be a combo technique’ oh boy how wrong you are XD i just… i love that it’s clear Kakashi’s skill is so above average that people expect him to be multiple shinobi.

I love that Kakashi, a trained assassine, is just knocking his opponents out. The growth in his character arc is delicious.

I also love that we get some sweet Kakashi and Iruka content.

‘Distracted bu the memory of Iruka’s proud face’ i say this with all of my Kakagai loving heart… SIMP

My beautiful man did a screw up and now he has to fight properly, all because he was distracted thinking about Iruka XD

‘He looked sort of sleepy’ the fact that this is the first thing people thing of when they see Kakashi is so hilarious. Nothing else, just sleepy looking.

Hatake Kakashi, Sixth Hokage, kicking all of the ass with *drumroll* a pot lid

‘It had to be an amazing pot lid that used chakra. That had to be it’ legit grasping at straws because it makes no sense that one man is kicking all of this ass XD

Kakashi lost his pot lid and put his enemy into a genjutsu in mere seconds!? KING

‘Their average ability was on a special jonin level’ not only can he kick ass, but he can determine his enemies skill level so quickly And determine just how hard this fight will be, which is… not hard at all.

‘To Kakashi they were a group of small time punks’ you cocky shit i love you

I love that they keep convincing themselves that there is more than one attacker. They simply cannot fathom the fact that they’re getting wrecked by one man XD

Two! A pot lid and a pot have now been used as weapon’s and destroyed XD

‘His opponent was a monster on an entirely different level’ ya, a Hokage’s level XD

Kakashi catching a Shuriken, chucking it back and then knocking out an opponent he caught in a trap. He’s so friggen quick.

‘The intruder was faster than wind’ the comparisons in Kakashi’s skill are delightful. I am loving every single second of this

I enjoy seeing them get cocking thinking they finally have the upper hand and will take the intruder down, only to have Kakashi kick their asses.

Genjutsu for the win again!

Kakashi wore his headband over his left eye… to make it easier to realize who he is??? The lil shit!

‘He had once been a Konoha shinobi. Until the sixth Hokage had dismissed him.’ Grudge! We have a shinobi with a grudge! *drinks this up greedily*

‘He would expect nothing less from Kakashi than the nerve to make the first love when surrounded by 12 people’ hatake Kakashi, world renowed lil shit and cocking f*** XD

‘Shin Hakubi, hm?’ Kakashi see’s and recognizes the dude immediately. He is the complete opposite to gai in this way (gai never remember faces while kakashi commits them to memory)

‘This was the greatest fortune of his life, going one-on-one with the Hokage when he’s used up his chakra’ do they just… forget he’s highly skilled in Taijutsu too? He goes toe to toe with gai, a taijutsu master, and they just… forget this?

KAKASHI USED GENJUTSU TO MAKE IT LOOK LIKE HE STILL HAD THE SHARINGAN!? He didn’t even know who he was facing but he knew without a doubt he could use his title as ‘Kakashi of the Sharingan’ to scare the absolute shit out of his opponents.

‘But he saw my Raijin shuriken and hit them. There’s no way he could pull off a trick like that without the sharingan’ think again b***

‘After learning that he had repeatedly robbed civilians on missions, Kakashi had dismissed him’ good. No thieving trash allowed

Kakashi got the beat the crap out of the POS who hurt that little girl! Go baby!!!

This chapter was so good! There’s the action, the stealth, the intelligence. I love Kakashi so much because i got invested into this universe for the Shinobi and he’s an actual representation of a talebted well rounded shinobi

I love seeing him in his zone. Being a stealthy little shit but also cocky af because he knows he has this. He knows he won’t lose. It’s brilliant!

[circusgoth-dotcom]

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚆𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛

The clown that once ran @painted-piggy-ships-archive has now taken up residence here after feeling exhausted with my very first self ship blog. It served me well for almost three years (the blog itself turns 3 in February of 2023). Can you believe I only joined Tumblr in 2020?

Anywho, the name’s Gabriel/Corey/Clownie and I am mostly attracted to a vast selection of fictional villains, but my other consistent interests include the arts (particularly film and writing) and the horror genre. This blog will be a mix of self shipping content and personal ramblings. I don’t often post straight up ns//ft content but my sense of humor can be raunchy at times and the content I’m interested in often tends to be gory/violent if not also sexual in nature so viewer discretion is advised.

Current Pronouns: They/Them, It/Its, Hye/Hymn/Hymnself, He/Him, Glow/Glows, Halo/Halos, ⭐/⭐s/⭐self, 🎄/🎄s/🎄self, ☎️/☎️s/☎️self, 🪓/🪓s/🪓self

Other Blogs: Horror Content - @phone-in-the-attic Film Reviews/etc - @cinephile-inc Batman Content - @the-jokers-husband Harry Potter Content (For people who hate JKR and aren’t terfs/bigots/etc only, of course) - @that-transsexual-slytherin (previously “americannslytherinn”) FNAF AU blog - @wheretheresaway-theresawilliam Sheep & Goat blog - @sweetness-of-the-lambs Stim blog - @carnival-stims Main/Dump - @offbeat-the-clownlord 18+ Blog - Ask for link if of age and interested ;0)

DNI: Terfs, bigots (racists, homophobes, etc), Joker/Harley shippers, proshippers, generally hateful people

F/o list below the cut (Short version) | See the complete version here!

Key: 💗 = Main | 💞 = Secondary | 💝 = Tertiary | 🏡 = Familial | 🌻 = Platonic | ✨ = Main Focus | 🔒 + bold = Not Comfortable Sharing

Structure: [f/o name] [source] | [relationship status or type] [marriage or engagement date if applicable] | [tag]

🔒✨ 💗 The Joker [DC Comics] | Married (12•04•21) | 🃏A Joker and His Ace🃏

💗 Wade Wilson/Deadpool [MARVEL Comics] | Married (07•12•22) | ���Bulletproof Boys💣

🔒✨ 💗 Jack Torrance [The Shining] | Married (12•31•22) | 🪓Darling - Light of My Life🪓

🔒✨ 💗 Charles “Chucky” Lee Ray [Child’s Play franchise] | Married (03•19•20) | 🌈Foul-Mouthed Little Fucker🌈

✨ 💗 Betelgeuse [Beetlejuice] | Married (10•01•20) | 🪲Two Bugs in A Rug🪲 [🐞Two Bugs in A Rug🐞]

🔒✨ 💗 Severus Snape [Harry Potter Franchise] | Married (date n/a) | ⛅He Saw a Glow in The Darkness⛅

🔒💞 Michael Myers [Halloween franchise] | Dating | 🔪The Night He Came Home🎃

💞 Anton Chigurh [No Country For Old Men] | Dating | 🐮Sugar Bully🐮

💞 Dr. Otto Octavius [Spider-Man 2 (2004)] | Dating | 🐙6 Arms to Hold You Tight / Does That Make You an Insect???🐙

💞 The Metatron [Dogma] | Dating | 👁The Metatron🪶

🔒💝 Hannibal Lecter [NBC’s Hannibal] | Dating | 🍽️Ella et Porcus🍽️

🔒💝 Sweeney Todd [Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street] | Married (08•19•21) | 💈I Will Learn to Love Again💈

💝 Dr. Frank-n-Furter [Rocky Horror Picture Show] | Dating | 👠Material Girl👠

💝 Ashley “Ash” Joanna Williams [Evil Dead franchise] | Dating | 🍂Good. Bad. He’s The Guy With My Heart.🍂

💝 Scott Pilgrim & Ramona Flowers [Scott Pilgrim series/franchise] | Dating | ❗Multiplayer❗

💝 John Kramer [Saw franchise] | Married (08•17•23) | 🧩The Missing Pieces🧩

🔒 🏡 Pamela Voorhees [Friday the 13th] | Adoptive Mother | 🧸Mama Voorhees🧸

🔒 🏡 Jason Voorhees [Friday the 13th] | Adoptive Brother | 🧸Jason🧸

🏡 Morticia Addams [The Addams Family] | Adoptive Mother | 🥀Black Is Such a Happy Colour🥀

🏡 Gomez Addams [The Addams Family] | Adoptive Father | 🤺Either Way What Bliss🤺

🏡 Wednesday Addams [The Addams Family] | Adoptive Sister | ☠️Poison Sister☠️

🏡 Pugsley Addams [The Addams Family] | Adoptive Brother | 🧨Explosive Brother🧨

🏡 Fester Addams [The Addams Family] | Adoptive Uncle | 💡Uncle Fester💡

🏡 Addams “catch-all” tag: 🕷️*Snap Snap!*🕷️

🏡 The Sawyer Brothers [The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Pt. 1 & 2] | Cousins | 🍖Sawyer Family Shenanigans🍖

🏡 Glen & Glenda Ray/G.G. [Child’s Play franchise] | Step-kids/kid | 🎸Rebel & Rhinestone🎀

🏡 J. Jonah Jameson [Raimiverse Spider-Man] | Uncle | 🗞️

🏡 Fairy Godmother [Shrek] | Adoptive Mother | 🔮Just a MA! Away🔮

🏡 Prince Charming [Shrek] | Adoptive Brother | 👑Charming Siblings👑

🏡 Lydia Deetz [Beetlejuice] | Step-sister | ☔My Whole Life Is One Big Dark Room☔

🏡 Harry James Potter [Harry Potter Franchise] | Adoptive Son | ⚡👓

🌻 Tiffany Ray-Valentine [Child’s Play franchise] | 👰Living Dead Girl👰

🌻 Barbra & Adam Maitland [Beetlejuice] | 🌻👻 [🌻]

🌻 Peter Parker [MCU & Raimiverse] | 🕸️Spiderboy🕸️

🌻 Nellie Lovett [Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street] | 🥧Try It! (You Might Like It)🥧

🌻 Jay & Silent Bob [View Askewniverse] | 🧢The One That Talks (Jay)🧢/🧢Cute Motherfucker🧢

🌻 Dante Hicks [Clerks Trilogy/View Askewniverse] | 🏒What Are You Looking At Ya Hockey Puck (Dante)🏒

[ao3feed-narlie]

The Road Home

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/9hCrc6q by Lockerberry, unhingedlatte Nick Nelson, who lost his mother five years ago, has been working tirelessly to obtain his family's farm. He has embraced solitude, convinced that it brings him contentment. However, his life takes an unexpected turn when he encounters Charlie Spring. Charlie's arrival shakes up Nick’s world, challenging his beliefs and ultimately, changing his perspective on life. As their relationship develops, Nick begins to realise that companionship and connection are essential ingredients for true happiness, and just maybe, he should embrace the new person and find a new type of joy in his life. Essentially, a tale of loss, grief, friendship, and love. Farm boy Nick meets posh boy Charlie then sparks begin to fly. Words: 11974, Chapters: 1/20, Language: English Fandoms: Heartstopper (TV), Heartstopper (Webcomic) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Imogen Heaney, Sarah Nelson, Nellie Nelson, Tao Xu, Elle Argent, Tara Jones, Darcy Olsson, Victoria "Tori" Spring, Oliver "Olly" Spring Relationships: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Nicholas "Nick" Nelson Needs a Hug, Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper) Needs a Hug, Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper) has an Eating Disorder, Nicholas "Nick" Nelson has Strong Rugby Arms, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Farmer Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Protective Nicholas "Nick" Nelson, Protective Charles "Charlie" Spring (Heartstopper), Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending, Tags May Change, Aged-Up Oliver Spring, Plant Dad Charles "Charlie" Spring, Hallucinations, Loss of Parent(s), Family Loss, Scotland, Slow Burn, Idiots in Love, Boys In Love, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Sheep & Goats, Chickens, Cowboy Hats, Horseback Riding, Horses, Cowboy Nicholas “Nick” Nelson read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/9hCrc6q

[f1cha0s]

I’m ready to come up with my final theory. This version is less messier!

A and F broke up at end of Jan/early Feb after that skiing trip in Italy. But F’s PR team or more likely AM’s PR team believed that it is not a good idea to release the news at that time. The season was about to start and they want the public to focus on the car rather than F’s personal life. I also remember people were joking that F changes teams as frequently as gfs at that time. People were wondering how long would he stay at AM before he burnt the bridge again. AM for sure doesn’t want that image of him. PR team prob decided that one month break between AUS and Baku would be a better timing. I think the strategy worked well as the time they announced the break up, everyone was just like oh he must be really focusing on winning 33 and 3rd title. All interactions between A and F starting Feb were PR. This explained that they hugged each other and posted photos together. Even after the break up announcement, they still liked each other’s posts.

But in reality, F already started seeing M( either cheating or simply move on to another journalist very fast. our messy boy).

By the time F and M got caught together in Monaco, A felt she was fooled by F to play the PR game for him. She may think F was using her to hide the new relationship all these days. She may also wonder if F cheated on her, especially it is such short period of time and with another journalist in the paddock. I mean I would feel the same if I were her. I bet there were also gossip in that small paddock going around that people were like oh no wonder I saw F and M being so close in previous races. She got mad and decided to block both of them. Around that time, she made a instagram story saying need to learn how to trust again. I couldn’t remember the exact timing (someone help me with this one plz!). After people found out the block drama, the PR team worked on it again and they followed each other back.

PS: in this theory, the PR team is really working overtime every single day!

I think that regardless of what version we believe, in every single one Andrea has every right to be angry at him lmao

PR teams are the real goats of this sport fr

[wyndford-dekarios-majima]

Kermit, Muppet Labs, and Statler n Waldorf for ursa minor

Kermit The Frog - Would you say that your F/O is more level-headed and has things under control, or are they more likely to be two steps away from exploding at all times? // I'd say he generally has things under control. He seems to be the most by-the-books out of all the wolf boys.

Muppet Labs - Is your F/O more of a left brain person or right brain? (Logical or Creative problem solver?) // Creative, actually. Sure, he sticks to the books, but he's looking to expand those books. It's also part of the job, honestly. Every monster is different.

Statler and Waldorf - Is your F/O generally a grouch and sarcastic or more kind and would feel terrible being mean to anyone? // I'm not going to say he can't be grouchy, but I don't think a mean man would keep a goat that was intended as bait and didn't get eaten and name it Lil Bleater. Just my two cents.

[smokeybrandreviews]

Rap God

It’s wild watching cats besmirch Eminem’s name, like he’s just some modern day Vanilla Ice or some sh*t. Marshall Mathers might not be the GOAT, my personal number one is Biggie, but he’s damn close. Easily top ten, arguably top five, based strictly on his skill as a rapper. Em has it all; Wordplay, cadence, breath control, flow, and bars. This cat can spit that hot fire. Seriously, Eminem is that dude when it comes to clever lyrical content. Put him up against your favorite rapper and he will eat them alive. He’s done it to Jay-Z, Drake, and Kanye West; Cats considered to be the top of their respective eras. Hell, Eminem’s verse on Forever is the best on that record, by far, and it has every artists I listed just now, on it. The only cat who can claim to have shared a song with Eminem and not get absolutely embarrassed is Lil Wayne. I’m not even a fan of that dude but I understand how talented he is and, for him to make it a point to just pull even with Em, is saying a whole hell of a lot about Marhsall. It says even more that Wayne, himself, has pure respect for Eminem and isn’t shy to say speak to that sh*t out loud.

Indeed, most serious Rappers will sing Em’s praises because they know. I’m talking Jay-Z, 50 Cent, Tony Yayo, J. Cole, Kendrick Lamar, Cardi B, T.I., Big Sean, Busta Rhymes, Redman, Nas, and the list goes on. These are greats of the genre, speaking on their admiration of, and for some, direct influence from, Slim Shady. Admittedly, he’s not as big as he was when I was young and a lot of what Rap has become seems more Pop than anything nowadays, but that’s all the more reasons to give Marshall his flowers. In a world where Lil Xan, Post Malone, and the Kid Laroi are topping the charts and strangling the airwaves, having a track like Rap God grace my ears is like getting a tall glass of ice cold water after struggling in that Arizona summer heat. And don’t let the fact that the three Rappers I chose for this example are whit, go over your head because Eminem allowed that to happen. Rap, and Hip Hop as a whole, is black people music. We made it. We proliferated it. We were very protective of it. White kids didn’t have a chance. You had to be on point to even be taken seriously in the rap game and Eminem was definitely that. Mans single-handedly shattered the color barrier and paved the way for other white boys to even spit raps on wax. Before him, it was the Beastie Boys and Vanilla f*cking Ice. After him, you get MGK, Lil Peep, Asher Roth, and Mac Miller. Eminem did that by being a straight up dog on the mic and downplaying that because “his records don’t play in the club” or “because he’s white” is the dumbest sh*t I have ever heard in my entire goddamn life.