#gag mag

[gag-magazine]

Protecting Your Peace, or Being a Pussy?

By Yellen Art by Raneem Iftekhar

Putting male comedians on a pedestal for so many years of my life was horrid for my mental health. I love their Jester’s privilege. Their pursuit of truth. Their ability to point out the negative realities people don't wish to acknowledge. True catalysts for justice. 

Comedy insidiously slips in revolutionary critique in an extremely palatable manner, due to the very nature of its entertainment. The jokes, these necessary reality checks, hold immense power in reframing thought, twisting taboo into norm. If it’s funny, it’s funny. Audience laughter is visceral. uncontrollable. reflects an acceptance of the underlying principle of the bit. The beginning of a somewhat unconscious questioning—a shift in ingrained ideology, although potentially initially uncomfortable.

I wanted to be like them, but I just grew into a menace, playing my favorite sadistic game whenever possible. This favorite pastime involved going out of my way to make my moral adversaries as uncomfortable as possible, verbalizing the unappetizing elephant in the room. I know what you did last summer. No care for pleasantries: let’s let the dirt rise to the surface. I won’t let this blow over. Cunt. You aren’t hidden. As long as I’m here. I will corner you. Trap you into confession. 

I was always searching for something or someone to trigger me so I can simulate judge and jury, desperately grasping to feel any sort of power or agency in guaranteeing justice. To instigate some revelation about their lacking morality. To catalyze their own self-reflection and potentially inspire real change. You don’t want to let them off hook, allow them to enjoy the party, same as you, living peacefully with what they’ve done. It feels so deeply wrong to settle with your own discomfort as perpetrators go free. Would you let Harvey Weinstein enjoy his meal at the table next to yours? 

But it’s a flawed strategy. On par with cancel culture’s delusion that it actually serves justice. The only one being punished is yourself as you deep dive into a black tar pit. Stuck. bogged down by their darkness. All you are doing is fucking up your nervous system, extending the timeline of your own anger, letting it cramp in your gut. P.S. Comedians are infamously known to be such happy people! Maybe comedy has always been a medium to complain about the things outside our control…to poke fun at our powerlessness. Maybe it’s not this revolutionary instrument of social change you think it is, but merely reaffirms people’s values. You just romanticize being a dick because that’s all you know. 

Protecting your peace isn’t overrated.  Karma will get them. Remind yourself that real change comes from a place of love. You didn’t even make it funny. You just put them in defense mode, clutching their comfort zone and validating their own worth as their humanity is attacked. The opposite of your “intentions.” Self-disillusionment, the process of confronting the violence of your own automatic assumptions and reframing them comes from within…But your anger is righteous and what’s the alternative? Ambivalence? Complacency? It’s a difficult balance.

I’m on a painstaking journey to deconstruct my perfectionism and shift my judgmental lens in the name of self love. I’m typically the biggest victim and the most common target of my seething hatred. In attempting to free my soul from this negativity, I try to remind myself that firstly, it’s ok to fuck up. And secondly, not every moment is a defining moment…But is it, though? Life has this magic essence to it, this circular mirroring of sorts, in which specific microcosms reflect greater patterns. Life is full of fractal reflections between small and large instances: no matter how deep you dig, you arrive on a fraction of the same thing. I usually collect people’s words like trinkets to add to a comprehensive psychological file I reserve in my brain. I’m addicted to retrieving more data to fill in my mental picture. Yes, that data says something. But not everything is a part of a greater pattern. Remember that they are so much more than what you see or hear. You aren’t engaging in critical thought, you are just critical. Keep telling yourself it was always about them and not some grand overcompensation for your own self-hatred. Everything is a mirror, after all. Stop projecting. 

Today it dawned on me how much I’ve really changed. I’ve been making an excruciating effort to be kinder to myself. But in turn, I’ve become a straight up pussy. Now we have arrived at the extremely stupid reason I wrote this piece: because of two petty instances of girls disrespecting me last week. One of them involved some frigid bitch rolling her eyes at me and then ignoring me when I introduced myself. I humbly asked for her name and ignored her cuntiness. The other involved some alt chick cutting me in line. I said under my breath with my head down, “Don’t you hate when people cut?” and the bitch really hit me back with a loud “Ya I fucking hate when people cut” as she cuts. Now, I just said nothing. I’ve never felt like such a narc loser in my entire adult life, even though the concept of a fucking line has to be one of the most basic forms of common curtosy to ever exist. But She won. Hands down. Honestly I can’t even blame her. I have to respect her and I kind of want an enemies to lovers arch for us. 

But anywho, my past self would have paid big money to be awarded any opportunity to deliver some seething comeback her way. But I stood in silence and it’s been haunting me. I can’t believe I’m…chill..now. I stopped subtweeting for the most part on my instagram story because my compulsive desire to put people on blast has gotten me in trouble many a time. I’m growing up, choosing my battles, developing my prefrontal cortex. But I am still riddled with a deep sense of regret over my silence in both these dumb situations. Maybe I should have made a scene. Bowed down to her excellency and profusely apologized for entering her space in medieval english prose. 

God, no one tells you that protecting your peace feels absurdly fucking lame. [redacted]

_________

The original ending to this piece involved me personally naming the bitches that briefly hurt my ego and telling them to go fuck themselves, ironically undermining the healing narrative I championed in this entire article thus far over such petty, insignificant situations cuz its semi-funnyish (at best) commentary on my tendency to revert back to my nasty id instincts no matter how much I try to self-help out of being a chronic hater. But ultimately, the clickbait title of this piece presents a false binary: silence or explicit aggression. But I’ve come to learn that protecting your peace doesn’t make you a pussy; it’s just the opposite.

Let’s take a look at your doomed track record thus far. You allow disrespect to tally up until you reach a breaking point that has almost nothing to do with the straw that breaks the camel's back. Then you continue to publicly pop off on an anonymous adversary on social media, with a shield of comedy and just enough vagueness to avoid communicating directly, promptly and vulnerably. Fighting behind a black screen without even really admitting you’re fighting. Championing plausible deniability to slither out of actually confronting the problem with the person head-on. Calling someone out for some dumb bullshit they probably don’t even remember in a published article where they cannot defend themselves…That’s what being a pussy looks like. Yes, I know: there are people in this world that deserve to be bullied, and yes, it’s a real shame they don’t experience debilitating shame on a daily basis like you do. But ever heard of the saying, “Misery loves company?” You are ohhh, sooo predictable—following the classic “bullied becomes the bully” character arc. So quick to condemn but someone calls you weird once and you crumble. Do you feel less weak now or more than ever? No, no, I’ve got it all wrong? You’re powerful? Extremely secure? Such conviction. Praise be.

[x-mensirens]

Rogue's complicated history and attachment to Magneto

[xxplastic-cubexx]

That Erik sketch is his reaction to everyone(including me) in anon wanting to rail/impregnate his husband/ex-husband. He’s gonna kill us all and honestly it was a pleasure to serve with you fellow horny for Charles Anons o7

(Also why did he have his helmet on in the shower???? Was he afraid Charles would read his thoughts in the shower? What was he thinking about 🤔)

he can't even take a shower without some tom tittery happenin and everyone wantin to shag his ambiguous husband he gotta investigate 😔 got the helmet on so charles cant hear his murderous thoughts.... or what overly complicated scheme hes gonna pull just to have a date night with charles depends on the day really

[orchidyoonkook]

Sickness of the mind

[viktorgf]

Summoning u for a boss fight. Mags and Krauser 🏃‍♀️

HAHSJSHDJSJDJS oh MAN brother

mags would be so enamored with krauser in theory cs in her mind, he is the exact kind of man that would throw her around and get so so rough with her and it makes her all. excited SJNFJSND she would make passes at him shamelessly whenever she got the opportunity cs she wants to know what those big strong arms do. she will literally say that to his face. wildly unbecoming, considering she is the DIRECTOR OF HR but who fucking cares they are building BIOWEAPONS. she is gonna do what she wants and she wants to fuck that man!

and it takes abt two well timed, sexually charged comments from mags before he grips her arm and drags her into her office, swipes everything off of her desk, and lifts her on top of it. and because he would be so pussy whipped after that this would be like. a weekly occurrence xoxo

[aster-oak]

had to draw it, will eventually draw martin in scenes wearing this, but for now i'm just taking a break from my essay train

so yeah, here's martin in a gag sailor costume because Peter said he had to

it keeps him lonely

TMA AU where everything is exactly the same, except Martin hast to wear this in season four because Peter said so

[blindedguilt-archived]

Headcanon(? Observations?): About Leonard and Alcohol

tw for alcohol and brief suicide/paedophilia mentions, ofc

If you're going to ask anything personal about Leonard, it's best done over drinks. While typically his depression is nothing hidden if only by demeanour alone, he comparatively becomes near casual in mentioning his wishes for death and particularly the mention of his "secret." He's likely to slip up into revealing even more with proper inquiry outside his own awareness, and just as likely to forget it all the next day.

That said, aside from a slightly clumsier demeanour, (Who could have thought it possible?) Leonard is shockingly more well put together drunk than what most would assume from him at first glance. It may only be when he starts suddenly divulging those deeper facets of his life and self that people can know he's had too much.

[aquamarine-oceanfront]

The Amazing Digital Circus is receiving a manga adaptation in CoroCoro!

Rough translation, from right to left:

Large text on right: "Where is the exit?" Smaller text on right: "The show everyone's talking about, with over 400 million views on YouTube!!" Large text on left: "The world-renowned dark comedy cartoon, fully adapted to comics!"

A few hours ago, the official Japanese TADC Twitter account revealed that a manga adaptation of the series would begin running in the December issue of CoroCoro Ichiban! (to be released on October 21st, 2024). It will also be published simultaneously in the online edition of Weekly CoroCoro Comic - despite the magazine's name, it will still be on a monthly schedule.

So what'll it be like? Well, while every magazine under the CoroCoro brand is generally targeted towards grade schoolers, CoroCoro Ichiban! in particular skews even younger, frequently featuring gag comedies. Furthermore, the author - known mononymously as "Sakura" (咲良) - has experience in that genre, having adapted Nintendo's ARMS into ARMS: Skillful Gag Fight! (ARMS スゴウデギャグファイト！) for the magazine between 2017 and 2018.

However, I'm reasonably confident this adaptation will retain the bleaker edges of the original series. Not only does the above promotional image explicitly call it a "dark comedy" (and further implies it'll be a faithful adaptation by using "完全," translated above as "full"), but this is the page they chose to release as a preview:

Rough translation, again:

(The bit above the logo just means "New series!") [Why is this girl running...?] Gotta hide, gotta hide, gotta hide,

(As a side note: I should mention that the above two images were both taken from the artist's later tweet about the manga, since they were higher quality. They're cropped a little more, but not enough to really infringe on their contents.)

Looking over the QRTs, both Japanese and English responses were equally surprised to learn about this. A couple of Japanese Twitter users were specifically bewildered that it was running in the especially child-focused Ichiban! - here's one as an example:

Very roughly translated:

"A Digital Circus series will run in Weekly CoroCoro Comic!" 👆 Huh?!?! Well, if it's in Weekly CoroCoro, I guess I'll check it out… "Also running in CoroCoro Ichiban! (mag for young children)!" 👆 HUH????!!!!???!!!????!!!!!!!!!?!

Finally, for completeness's sake, here's the last promotional image from the announcement:

[deceptigoon]

so i've been rereading mtmte and during brainstorm's trial there's the background gag of rodimus rearranging the letters on mags's name plaque right. and this is the best he could come up with??

so anyway my bf and i felt compelled to come up with some alternatives which are as follows:

smug rat, rung lust, gaunt murals, lugnut margs, alan gumrust, lung traumas, a glum tuna, anal rug smut, and last but certainly not least, Mr. Gunslut.

[kpopppopsmuts]

Pahinga tayo. - After Concert (TagLish)

BINI Aiah x Male Reader (Y/N)

Categories/warnings: smut, slight fluff, creampie

You watch from lower box as Aiah sang and danced her heart out before saying farewell to the crowd. You couldn't believe how this girl you met during their mall show in Market! Market! has now become a friend... with a LOT of benefits.

As soon as the concert ended, you texted her: "You were amazing. Ang galing mo talaga kumanta at sumayaw!" "Thank you so much, Y/N! See you later?"

You already knew what she meant. Eto na naman. Excited ka na naman.

Rushing home to fix your place, Aiah arrived right on the dot of the time you both agreed to meet. She knocked on your door. "Y/N bilis! Baka may makakita sa akin haha!"

You rushed to let her in, and you noticed how she was still wearing her make up from earlier, only now she was wearing a hoodie and joggers. You offered to let her shower to which she agreed. However, as she took her clothes off, the door of the bathroom opened and her pretty face peeked out, "Y/N, samahan mo ako mag-shower."

Right then and there, you took all your clothes off. You knew what she meant and the moment your mortal eyes laid their sight on her in the shower, and you could see the water dripping down her tight, petite body. Her ass and boobs weren't big but they were perfectly round, perfectly shaped, perfectly sexy.

Joining her in the shower, you notice your manliness get hard. Subtly, you try to poke her cute little ass with it. "Y/N, you're so excited for me."

"You're the hottest girl ever, Aiah."

She giggled at your statement. She backed herself onto you, sandwiching your thing with her soft butt cheeks. You grab onto her hips, another hand on her tits, playing with her nipple, and your lips latching onto her from her ear down to her neck before finally turning her around to face you to make out. Her hand travels from your chest to down to grab you and she starts rubbing. "Y/N, you know my mouth isn't just made for singing." "Talaga? Pakita mo nga." She knelt down, looking up at you, as you turn the showerlighter. Her eyes smiled with her, and she started licking your tip. Your whole shaft. "Fuck, Aiah, that feels so good." "I know."

She started sucking your whole length, deepthroating you while maintaining eye contact. You grab on to her head and slightly hump her face, causing her to gag a little but smiling at you afterwards. You pull her up, "Aiah, di ko na kaya. I want to fuck you already." "Use me, Y/N." She bends over, holding on to the wall with all her might as you slowly insert your length inside of her. "Tangina ang sikip mo talaga." "Paluwagin mo ako Y/N. Please.. Aaah ang sarap mo!" She could only keep moaning your name. After thrusting deep inside of her, she lets out a loud scream, feeling her pulsating -- she came. She repositions, arching her back better, looks back at you and says "Y/N, ikaw naman." Giving you a pretty smile once again. This only turned you on more. You pull her hair back, causing her to raise her head. "Aiah, where do you want me to cum?" "Inside me, Y/N," she whispered. "Di ko marinig. San mo ko gustong labasan?" "Sa loob ko, Y/N!!" You got your signal. You fucked her harder, faster, until you felt every part of you gush out while you were balls deep inside of her, not pulling out until every drop of you was left inside of her pussy.

Slowly, you pulled out and you see your cum dripping out of her. She stands up and kisses you. "Sobrang galing mo talaga, Y/N." You finished your shower before heading to bed.

As you lay down, she cuddles onto you harder, while you were the big spoon. You both fell asleep knowing this isn't the end of it.

----

I hope you all like my first smut, first post ever!!

[martins-canned-peaches]

TMA but it's formatted like The Office. There's still the same amount of deaths and horrors but they just don't take themselves seriously.

MAG 101:

Nikola: "How are you feeling?"

Jon, gagged and bound: [looks deadpan into the camera]

[gag-magazine]

To Lebron James, With Love

By Sada Gill

We used to own a guinea pig. I remember buying her from a Petsmart for my brother’s birthday seven years ago. I remember his insistence on buying a male guinea pig. He didn’t know then that most stores in our area only kept female guinea pigs. Ultimately he didn’t care that it was a girl and still decided to name it after his favorite basketball player, Lebron James. I remember my Amma always calling her name in that high-pitched voice we use when we talk to animals or babies and laughing because she was using that voice to say, Lebron James.

She had these big buggy-looking eyes like that one guinea pig from G-Force. We used to call her kaddoo. It means pumpkin in Hindi. That used to be my nickname growing up too. Her space was in this corner of our house, right by where we kept all our houseplants. She died on September 14, 2022. I remember it was during a massive heatwave in California. 

I didn’t know for ten days. I came back home and didn’t notice her cage was missing. I assumed it, or rather, she would be there. My Amma told me later that night that she passed. Died. I asked what they did with the body. She told me that they didn’t know. The old lady that comes to help around the house had done something with her and hadn’t told them. A more accurate interpretation would be that they hadn’t asked. I felt angry that this lady got to carry out Lebron’s last rites, angrier at the fact that she didn’t have any last rites because who has a funeral for a guinea pig? She was probably tossed in the trash with the rest of her old bedding that needed replacing anyway. 

It felt like she never even really existed in the first place. We placed a new plant where her cage used to be. I felt old. I feel old. Guilty too. The type of guilt where you think that maybe you could’ve done something more. (I’m not even sure what “more” in this context even means) Where all you can think about is how somehow this has to be some form of karmic retribution. It has to be. Even though it’s not. Logically, technically it’s not. Still. Some intrinsic part of you can’t seem to shake off that blame. That you are responsible for this death, for the murder of this being, or a murder of being.

I want to look at Lebron James one more time. I want to look her in the eye. I want to hold her. I was always too scared for some reason. I was scared of her. Of what she could do to me. That she might bite me or that I might squeeze too hard while holding her. But now that she's not here I feel brave. Brave because I know that whatever I was scared of her doing, she can’t do anymore. Now, there are no consequences. Instead, there’s just this empty feeling of what-ifs. What-ifs that no longer matter because she’s dead.

When I look at the corner it’s like I can see the ghost of her eyes looking at me. Telling me that one day that’s going to be me. One day I’ll be shrouded in white cloth, my ashes tossed. I can feel her eyes continue to bore into mine. I’m scared to break eye contact. I can feel her in some weird way asking me in a language that only we two, animal to animal, can understand. “Do you belong here?” I don’t know. I felt dizzy and hot. Her eyes never leave mine until for fear of passing out I have to tear my eyes away from that corner. It’s morphed into this different fear of the new meaning that corner now holds. A reminder that all that bravery is a lie because, at the end of the day, I still can’t bring myself to ask the old lady what she did with the body. Because I, like my family, also don’t want to know and don’t want to have to remember. 

[privctd]

I need a Cal NSFW headcannons please!

OFC POOKIE here you go <3 :)

CALVIN GABRIEL NSFW HEADCANONS

To me Cal would be VERY sadistic in bed he wants you to feel it like REALLY feel it enough to give you pain that man would laugh about it I’m sorry but it’s hot at the same time.

Cal definitely has a ton of porn mags around his room his parents find and give him the whole rant that it isn’t “godly” or whatever but cal does not care after that rant he will grab one and jerk off to it again.

Cal has a knife kink I know a lot of people say he has a gun kink but to me that’s more of a Andre thing I’d like to think cal likes using knifes more I mean this man probably has a whole damn collection and plus he probably has a few “favorite” knives he likes to use specially for you.

When I tell you cal is ANYTHING but gentle in bed…this man is feral he fucks you so hard you won’t be able to walk for DAYS

Cal is PACKING down there definitely I think he’s probably a bit bigger than Andre

Cal would make you suck his dick and literally laugh at you gagging or vomiting a lil bit like he’s crazy I’m sorry

He is a switch but mostly dominant I like to think so a lot of people think he’s a twink but GOD FORBID NO HE IS NAWT

This man will tape videos of himself nutting or whimpering and give them to you as a “gift” or a “sign of love” or some shit

Cal likes dirty talk weather he is giving or receiving he likes to only give praise if he thinks he’s doing a good enough job or you are and when he gives you praise it’s ADDICTIVE the way his voice sounds so soft but mean at the same time while giving you praise is crazy.

He will get boners around you A LOT like a lot a lot

Cal likes to think of you as like his pet his like he owns you and can basically do whatever he pleases with you and I mean if you let him then your feeding into his delusions which is kinda hot turns him on a LOT.

Cal would be the type of guy to be in a public setting and whisper dirty shit into your ear like “you want my dick huh you need it?” Type shit

Cal does NOT use condoms he hates it he feels like it doesn’t feel the same…and if you ask him about it he will side eye you or just flat out ignore you.

I feel like cal likes to make a lot of noises in bed but doesn’t like when you do it just to see you suffer he will smirk down at you as you try not to moan or whimper because you know you’d be in DEEP shit if you ever did

I feel like cal would edge you A LOT he would also hold you down like HARD during sex and if you cry or something it would turn him on more like I said this man is a COMPLETE sadist in bed.

Okay that’s all I got for now I rlly hope they r okay lol 😭🎀

[spatialwave]

Can you do an Angus Tully NSFW alphabet?

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐒 𝐓𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 – 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭.

notes: 18+. fem!reader/college au. 18+ characters. thank you for asking me to do this. <3

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

angus tully is a darling with aftercare, something that comes naturally to him. he loves to pepper your face with chaste kisses and coo gentle praises in your ear as you cuddle. if you don’t use a condom he’ll make sure to get a towel to clean you up, or you two will sneak to the showers together. 

he’s so fucking kind with you—always making sure you know how loved you are after he’s made ruins of you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he loves your tits, they’re his favourite thing in the entire world. he’ll touch them any chance he gets and will constantly ask you to wear something low-cut. it makes him so incredibly hard when you don’t wear a bra, his cock twitching in excitement anytime he can see your hard nipples pressing through your shirt. 

his own favourite body part is his cock. he’s well endowed and you were the one to tell him that. angus thought he was very average, but when you dropped your jaw the first time you saw him hard and naked he grew very smug and not-so-humble. his ego was never the same.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

angus cums a lot and he likes to see it on you. he loves cumming on your face with your tongue sticking out, seeing how it decorates you. he thinks you look so pretty when it dribbles down your chin. 

his favourite place to cum is inside you, though. he ruts into you as he finishes, slowly rocking until he pulls back and watches how it drips out of your pussy. he’ll use his fingers to push it back inside of you, fucking you with them until your reach your peak.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

angus likes stealing your panties after you fuck. he'll keep them to jerk off with, sometimes putting them in his mouth to bite them. when you find out he's embarrassed as hell, but when you suggest that he can use them to cover your moans that becomes his new favourite thing.

anytime you get too loud, he'll bundle up your panties and shove them between your lips as a makeshift gag.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

angus tully has little experience—he’s had his first kiss & made out with girls before. nothing serious, especially since graduating from an all-boys school. when he met you he was lacking in recent experience and was still a virgin. though, after reading enough porno mags, he had a general idea of how to please a woman, but he learned the most from you.

he listens to your soft sounds and whimpers when his fingers curl inside you, how your moans choke in your throat when his tongue circles your clit. he’s a perceptive person, you hardly have to show him a thing and by your third time sleeping together he has you writhing on the bedsheets crying out his name. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he loves when you ride him because he has the perfect view of your tits bouncing. he likes holding onto your hips and helping you bounce up and down on his cock. however, he greatly prefers when you grind on him and fucking yourself on him, his eyes staying focused on you as you moan and mewl as you feel him hit deep inside your pussy.

he also loves the hook position because sometimes he needs to control the pace and fuck you like crazy. your thighs pressed against your chest and calves resting over his shoulders, giving him perfect access to thrust into you as deep and hard as you both crave.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

it depends on the situation. if you’re high, he’s always laughing, especially when you two are kissing—he just feels so elated and happy to be with you. effortlessly pleased and madly in love. early in your relationship, he was goofy too, mostly out of inexperience as you two learned each other’s bodies and made mistakes.

he’s mostly serious now, concentrating on how his cock penetrates you just right and making sure you get nothing less than euphoria.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

angus doesn't groom that much, mostly thanks to hippie culture. he will give himself a good trim if you request it. he also has a happy trail that he's very proud of.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

this is something that depends on your 'style' during the act. if the two of you are feeling desperate and needy, there's little romance and a ton of heady passion. if you're more vanilla and gentle, he'll whisper in your ear how much he loves you, how lucky he is, etc.

he's a romantic at heart, so sometimes he prefers to have those gentler moments with you to remind you of his love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he masturbates so much. it started with porno mags, but now all he needs is to picture your tits and he’s hard and ready to go. he jerks off any chance he gets when he’s alone, which is a lot more now that he has his own dorm room.

he loves watching you masturbate too, his eyes fixated on you while your fingers push inside your pussy and circle your clit. he’ll oftentimes stroke himself when watching, licking his lips as you toy with yourself under his gaze.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

teasing, biting, mild exhibitionism, giving praise, edging/orgasm control, watching you beg for his cock.

angus is a kinky man, but like many others, it comes with the more experience he gets. when he learns about edging, you can say goodbye to the times when you were able to cum as freely as you wanted as he fucks you. now he prefers to tease you and watch you beg for him to put his cock back inside your aching pussy.

(he also has a breeding kink that he's embarrassed about.)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

his bed, by far. it's private and away from the other college students, the only downside is having to try to be quiet so the r.a. doesn't knock on his door mid-orgasm again.

angus likes the showers, too. they're not co-ed, but that doesn't stop him from sneaking you into the men's washrooms so you two can fuck in one of the shower stalls. to the boys that pass by, they usually try to ignore the muffled moans coming from the stall with two sets of feet visible from where the curtain ends.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

his biggest turn-on is when you're flirty and touchy with him, especially in public. he likes it when you bat your lashes at him and chew on your lip coyly, or when you're walking through campus together and your fingers brush along his hand slowly and softly–making his skin tingle.

when he's extra sensitive, sometimes he'll need to pull you aside somewhere private so you can get on your knees and take care of the problem you created for him. most of the time you two will decide to skip class and head to his dorm.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

he doesn't like being called daddy... for personal reasons.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves when you suck his cock, seeing the way you look up at him with your mouth and throat full of him. his hands in your hair, tugging as he pushes himself deeper and seeing how tears prick your eyes when he cums.

his preference is eating you out. he wasn't as skillful at first as he is now, so expert in his skills that oftentimes he can make you cum in a few minutes with just his tongue and fingers. he loves how you taste, swirling his tongue around your clit and licking you up and down until his mouth and chin are dripping with your juices. he especially loves when you ride his face because he gets the perfect view of your bouncing tits while indulging in your heat.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

angus usually leans more toward fast and rough with his movements, he isn't sure where exactly he gets his energy from, but lord knows he uses it well. he loves seeing how big of a mess you turn into when he's fucking you from behind with quick, hard thrusts–fingers digging into your hips as you cry out his name with your face shoved into the pillows.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

angus loves quickies, especially the ones that could potentially lead to you two being caught. quick fucks in the showers, a janitor's closet, or hidden in the quietest section of the library. you two don't do them often, but when life gets busy around midterms and finals, you two find yourselves needing those bursts of release.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

the biggest risk angus takes with you is not using condoms. he loves filling your pussy with his come and watching how it spills out of you and he never wants to change that. when you told him you were on the pill it was like all his wildest fantasies came true.

he also likes to experiment with semi-public sex. you giving him head in the back of a dark movie theatre or going shopping and fucking in a changing room.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go for a looong time because he's learned how to pace himself. there was one time you realized that you'd be fucking for nearly two hours, your bodies were so sore that the next day you both had to skip class because there was no way your legs weren't giving out.

he usually has enough energy to go out at least two rounds, at the very least enough to make sure you still cum after he does.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

angus doesn't own any toys himself, but is curious about them when you mention it. the only toy that you two purchase together is the hitachi magic wand after spotting it in a sex shop. it becomes a staple in your sexual escapades. he loves using it on you, watching how your hips twitch when the vibrations overstimulate you while he fucks you slowly and steadily.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh, how angus loves teasing you. it all started when you two were just friends, he'd notice how his teasing remarks about you would make your cheeks and ears turn red. then, when you two became sexual with each other, he wondered how that would translate into sex.

it worked wonders on him, loving the way you'd blush underneath him when he teases you. "you want my cock so bad, don't you?" he says as he just barely pushes the head of his cock inside of you, smiling when you pout and whine for him to keep going.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he isn't that loud, usually groaning and grunting in your ear with each snap of his hips. his words are breathy and heavy when he talks to you while fucking, his warm breath tickling your ear and neck.

when he cums, though, he'll moan loud enough that you're certain the other students could hear from their dorms. he loves when you're riding on top of him and your hand covers his mouth when he cums, enjoying the bit of dominance you get over him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

if there is one way to get dominance over angus it's to kiss and bite at his neck and ears, it'll leave him melting and begging you to keep going. when you bite and suck at his skin he'll let out the most pitiful, whiny moans and can be convinced to do almost anything.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

angus is a thin and lanky guy, muscle mass isn't his friend and it never will be. you love that about him.

he also has a bigger-than-average dick, that's what you love about him even more. it's around 7.5" and it's decently girthy, but not crazy. the best part about him is that he can actually use it well–lucky you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

angus has a high sex drive and it surprised you. it can even be a little annoying sometimes, especially when you are stressed with homework and he's sitting next to you in the library with his hand trying to find its way into your skirt while hidden under the table. you can't hide the fact that you love the attention and whenever you're in the mood he's ready and waiting patiently.

he always says how he's so lucky to have the hottest girlfriend, so can you blame him for being constantly horny around you?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he's a heavy sleeper. seriously, the dude is like a rock when he falls asleep and he falls asleep fast. one second he'll be cleaning you up with a towel and the next his face is buried into your neck and hair, snoring gently into your ear. it's very cute.

[tenjikufag]

Got to thinking, a thunkle-ing if you will; not so a request but me chucking a ball of something at you and getting opinion

So, I've seen lots of fics where the reader is already familiar with the fun times, Laios opposite to them

I LEGITIMATELY would like to think if both were virgins that their first time would more so be, scientific and nerdy LMAO in the best way means

Idk, feel like it'd be a odd thing of, Laios is book based, on how it goes or the "effects", reader more-so through word from other folks (probably same w/Laios but eh), but it turns more into a poke and prod session than anything 'what's this do? Oh cool wowzas' but fun no less

That, or I'm easily swayed into getting all science-y and stuff XD

OOOO I like this idea and I’ve thought about it atleast a handful of times!!

Read under the cut! AMAB anatomy used. Switch!Laios and Reader !! NSFW, MDNI

Virgin Laios is sooooo realistic, far more than him having any experience imo- come on, the man’s social queues are barely there to have friendships outside of falin and the party; definitely not getting anywhere near romantic or intimate until it came to you.

Virgin YOU, oh you guys are fun to write. I adore when I get to write you guys as pent up little freaks.

The two of you being nerds and barely working up to being partners is one thing, intimacy is a whole other ball game! As you mentioned, he would look at it like an “experiment” of sorts. I have no doubt that he’d acquired a couple porn mags/books from browsing the romance section with Marcille- he’s an all around learner but visuals are always nice!

The faint arousal he’d feel reading said smut (all in the name of research) is about as close as he gets to actually touching himself before he met you; someone he would trust enough to experiment with. He’s not stupid, he knows what sex is he’s just never done it before! It’s nerve-wracking and despite how bold and nonchalant this big guy can be, it still burns a blush across his pale skin up to the tips of his ears!

I also imagine that it wouldn’t be full blown sex right off the bat, more so ‘sessions’, periods of ‘study’.

Laios had it on his mind, there’s no doubt. The two of you had discussed it in passive conversations but never really.. delved into it. Both virgins who knew the respected counterpart was in the same playing field.

Imagine it as your typical one on one “study”, typical banter of ideas bouncing around.

Happened to read into mating rituals of different monsters, intently scribing the words of their anatomy into your notebooks.

“I wonder what it feels like..”

It doesn’t take a genius to know how this goes, I’ll let you imagine the scenario and conversation leading up to it.

—

It would start out with mutual masturbation, jerking off infront of eachother and observing every sweet sound that left either of your mouths. Uncut, cut, whatever you had, it didn’t matter or keep the slick sounds from furnishing the room.

Moving on, breaking the barrier of only touching yourselves-

You’d pump each others dicks together, trying to match the pace of the others hand- it wasn’t a race, neither of you lasted long regardless.

FROTTING.

Rubbing your dicks against each other, the friction far more satisfying than a hand could be- unknowingly building your staminas with the desperate ruts against each other.

He was the first to take the plunge into oral, having slyly tasted himself or even you from what dribbled onto his fingers. It was intoxicating, that’s putting it lightly.

Of course, no experience means there was lots of training needed. ‘Research’ as he’d say, trying to learn how to control his gag reflex, trying to keep himself from instinctively biting down just because something was in his mouth. You tasted so good though, he couldn’t help himself so expect teeth dragging across you- whether you’re into it or not, you don’t have a choice early on. And vice-versa of course! Maybe without the infatuation with the taste of him, well.. maybe just not to the degree he experiences..

But when you end up on the giving end, he’s white knuckled and baring down on his shirt to keep himself quiet- expect big loads from this guy. And expect them to come quick.

Now, down to the nitty and gritty. Because that’s what it is.

All the porn and smutty stories could only prepare you so much for the feeling of your ass being metaphorically torn open.

You’re the first to try it out, admitting to having tried to play with your ass in the past but never getting anywhere. It was slow, painfully so. Tears in your eyes and Laios clutching his jaw painfully tight to keep himself from busting with just the head of his dick inside.

When it came to him, obviously he knew what and how to prepare after the fiasco you experienced..(poor you). Came with far more lube and had read about how to ‘open’ himself up to make it easier.

And he adored how it felt.

It was better than feeling full off of his favourite meal.

The two of you lasted far longer when it came to him bottoming- even if it wasn’t that long, it was progress as satisfying to the both of you.

Sessions would continue between each other.

The two of you took each others virginities, and basically all of the other firsts you’d imagine. Now that’s a job well done!

Patience, preparation, and studying rewards those who wait or whatever the saying is.

I hope we are on the same wavelength, if not tell me more about what your thoughts are- I’d loveeee to hear them.

[happysaddca]

So I've been writing a lot for @wyervan's slasher AU... mostly smut... and thus it's been a hot minute since I had something I felt comfortable publishing online (the smut I'm just eh cause I feel like I might have a lot of kids following me but also I have so few followers that it'll probably not even be noticed??).

This is a snippet from after Ellis is in the know about what Sun and Moon do. They've been lowkey pressed into a "bonding activity" (Sun's words). They're not handling it very well.

TW for semi-graphic depiction of murder (I gloss over it mostly tbh it's hard for me to write without agonizing over), alcoholism, and a panic attack on Ellis's end.

Ellis pulls uncomfortably at the mask covering their face. Unlike Sun and Moon, they didn’t wear a costume, opting for simple black on black with a mask and gloves to ensure maximum coverage. They’ve also been left behind at the house while the two go to flush out their victim from where he’d gone off to hide. 

Ellis pokes through the rooms with the sort of idle curiosity wrought from stress and too much time to waste. One door’s locked, but it’s easy to bobby pin their way inside and find an office, the computer currently off. They poke at the mouse with their bat to be sure, but yep, it’s off. Moving on, it’s a small house, two bedrooms, one made up for the kid that’s currently away. 

Nathan, they remember. The room is pretty bare bones, but they don’t remember how long it’s been since the divorce. Maybe this isn’t the marital home and Nathan’s dad is still putting the pieces together? Sun had explained some of the man’s crimes that brought them here. Neglect, mostly. It brought a sour taste to Ellis’s mouth when they opened the master bedroom up and found skin mags on the bed and a pile of beer cans overflowing from the trash can. It smells like sweat and laundry and old cum. They gag as they shut the door, making it to the kitchen as the door slams open. 

The man barrelling through is a sweating, oversized mess, his face white and red in equal measure and his hair slicked to his head from sweat. He’s lost momentum crashing through his door, stumbling over his own shoes as he attempts to close it behind him. Ellis backs to keep the kitchen table between the two of them, noting with more disgust a shelf full of liquor and a bag of trash with more beer cans poking out the top. 

He spots Ellis and lets out a strangled, breathy scream before noticing they only hold a bat. “A-are you with the clowns? You gotta help me; I didn’ do anything!” Ellis notices there’s blood dripping from one hand onto the cheap linoleum floor. He lurches towards Ellis, who lifts their bat in self-defense. 

Splintering wood and shattering glass sprays from behind the man, and Ellis and he both flinch. Moon wrenches his axe back for a second swing, Sun’s voice catcalling through. “Oh, what a naughty brat. Running away when all we want to do is play, play play!” 

“Help me!” The man grabs for Ellis, but he’s jerked back by his collar as Moon shoves his way through the splintered remains of the door. Ellis feels their grip on their bat slip, squeezing it tighter when Moon throws the man against the counter. His head hits the sink, the metal dully thudding as he grunts and slips down. “Please,” he asks, and there’s spit dripping from his mouth flecked with tiny bits of red. 

Moon’s mask swings towards Ellis, who gives a short little nod at the smiling facade. They’re okay, untouched, even though their heart is hammering a million miles a minute against the inside of their ribcage.  They can taste blood in their mouth, but a cursory swipe of the tongue tells them nothing’s broken. 

“Oh Moony, Nova, looks like our friend might finally be ready to play. What do you say?” The playful tone in Sun’s voice is at odds with the static smile of his mask and the knife he’s carrying. As he speaks, he squats next to the man, his bells jingling like mad, using his knife to poke at the man’s cheek. “Oh, nevermind. Moon, you were too rough with the man! He’s all passed out now.” 

“Went for Nova.” Moon squats too, leaning against his axe as he leans forward and pulls the man’s face up, his hair a handle. He lets go of the hair, the white on his hand bright red from blood. “Probably out for a minute.” 

“Let’s get him set up in one of the chairs.” Sun bounces up with one arm, Moon moving more sedately, his axe set aside. “Nova, starlight, can you bring us some rope?” 

“Y-yeah. From the bag, right?” They nearly drop their bat, covertly wiping their hands off on their jeans. It doesn’t do much, the sweat slow to wick away in the rayon blend. 

“Yes sir. Be quick! He’ll be waking up in a minute.” Sun waves them off. 

The bag’s been left in the living room, and Ellis digs through for the rope, ignoring the way their stomach lurches at some of Sun and Moon’s other tools — hedge clippers, pliers. The rope is cheap stuff from the local hardware store, coarse and itchy even through their gloves. They coil it over one arm, noticing a pile of mail. 

Curious, and not ready to step back in the kitchen, they poke through. It’s bills mostly, a letter for the county court, and a familiar logo. A triangle with two A’s. They rip it open, skimming the contents before tossing it aside. 

“Nova!” Sun’s voice calls out from the kitchen. “Where are you? Did you get lost?” 

They want to throw up. It’s hard to tell if it’s actually hot in the house or if it’s just the ski mask, but either way, they want to throw up and leave. But they can’t. They look at the rope on their arm, take a deep breath that would fog their glasses had they worn them, and step back into the kitchen. 

Moon’s axe is on the table now, Moon himself back at the door to pull at the remaining wood, enlarging the hole he’d made. Sun’s with the man, his arms crossed, toe tap-tap-tapping away with the little bell swinging wildly off beat. When Ellis reappears, he relaxes, unfolding himself to take the rope. “We were beginning to worry you’d gotten lost Nova dear! Or, goodness forbid, gotten cold feet.” 

“This mask makes everything too warm,” Ellis says dryly, letting Sun take the rope and watching as he ties the man’s wrists together, then to the chair. Legs are next, a complicated looking series of knots ensuring he can’t wiggle free. “Do we have to kill him?” They try not to cringe when both Sun and Moon stare, the ever-smiling masks making their skin crawl. 

“Cold feet indeed,” Sun says with a sigh. He straightens, picking up his knife as he goes. 

Ellis’s gaze flicks to the knife and back again, and they resist the urge to back away. “Not cold feet. Just questioning the validity of this uh, extra-judiciary sentence.” 

“He’s hurt his son,” Sun says with all the patience of a parent on his last cup of coffee.

“Yelling, pulling, neglect,” Moon adds, and it’s impossible not to squirm under his gaze. Ellis nods slowly. It’s hard to argue against something they’re both familiar with. Moon picks up a bottle of liquor, reading the label over before dropping it. The bottle breaks, liquid pooling in the low parts of the floor. “And alcoholism.” 

The smell hits Ellis hard, and they actually step back, squeezing the bat tightly. They want to take of their gloves. “I found something in the mail,” they try to say, but the man wakes up, and the attention is no longer on them. 

“Oh wakey wakey. Did you have a good nap?” Sun circles around, spinning the knife handle in his hand, the point just barely pressing into his finger. Moon approaches from behind, ignoring the flinch from the man as he brushes against him. The flinch intensifies when the axe is dragged back, catching on his shoulder. 

“Please let me go. I’ll give you whatever you want. I won’t call the police, promise. I don’t even know who you are.” 

“They always say that, don’t they Moony?” Sunny asks. 

Ellis can almost feel the eye roll from Moon. “Always. Think they can avoid punishment. Shouldn’t have been naughty.” 

“I found something in the mail,” Ellis tries again, but they’re not heard over Sun’s giggling. Moon’s talking, but they can’t hear properly over the blood rushing in their ears. Maybe their hearing aids are broken. “Guys, I found something.” They can’t even hear themselves. “Guys.” 

Sun slashes, and Ellis flinches back at the spray of blood. Something’s definitely broken. They can’t even hear the scream. But Sun and Moon are getting into things properly, Sun’s blade disappearing and reappearing with red. Ellis watches, something cold twisting deep in their gut. 

“Nova, do you want a turn? There’s plenty of time before our friend — Nova?” Sun turns and finds Ellis frozen in place. “Moony, are they okay?” 

“Please,” the man says weakly, but Sun covers his mouth with a hand. 

“El?” Moon tries, stepping forward. There’s red on his costume now and Ellis remembers how many times they’ve seen his shirt and sleeves stained. How many times they figured it was ketchup stains or maybe from wriggling around in the dirty parts of the arcade. They can’t step back, moving to the side instead. Something crunches under their foot, and they look down. It’s a piece of the broken liquor bottle. 

“I found something,” Ellis says, and they can hear their own voice at last. Sun and Moon do too, the masks cocking in exaggerated curiosity. “A letter from Alcoholics Anonymous. Giving him a sponsor. He’s trying to get better.” 

“Get better?” Sun’s laugh feels cold. “You’ve seen his house, right?” 

“Y-yes. But he’s just divorced, isn’t he? It’s a lot to go through, right?” They do not like Sun and Moon staring at them. They want to take off the masks, see their employers/friends/something else’s faces properly.  Or at least take off their own. It’s so hot, and they can hear themselves breathing. 

“He’s had plenty of time to get better.” Sun air quotes, quick to slap his hand back over the man’s mouth. “Time’s up.” 

Ellis lets out a pent up breath, frustrated. “But, but the courts—” 

“Are trash.” Moon’s voice is cold. He steps forward, lifting his axe to his shoulder. “You know this.” 

Ellis can’t look into his mask’s face, let alone the accompanying eyeholes. They look to the side, spying the liquor shelf again. Their bat feels heavy in their hands. “It’s not too late,” they mumble. 

“It is.” 

“It’s not!” They taste blood again, swinging the bat to the side. Moon flinches away but he’s not the target. The shelf comes crashing down, glass shattering and liquid splashing over their boots. It smells like whiskey and rum and tequila, and Ellis throws up in their mouth. The bile washes away the taste of blood. “It’s not too late. Let him go. Please.” 

Sun just sighs, shoulders dropping as he twirls his blade slowly in one hand. “Nova, friend, it is too late.” 

“But…” 

“He’s seen us. There’s no way he’d not report this to the police.” Sun lets go of the man’s face, the guy immediately pleading for his life, promising money, anonymity, to move away and never return. Sun finishes playing with his knife, holding it and effortlessly slicing the man’s throat. He gurgles, blood foaming up over his lips and bubbling in the new wound. Ellis stares until Moon pulls them away. 

“Sun, going out for air.” 

“You’re leaving me to clean up all on my own?” 

Moon doesn’t reply, his arm heavy around Ellis’s shoulders. When he pulls away to open the door, the ghost of his touch leaves them cold. 

Moon sits with Ellis on the steps, setting the axe down. They stare at it, at the flecks of dark on the otherwise shiny blade, until Moon removes his mask and covers it. He gently pulls the bat free from their death grip, then removes Ellis’s mask, the night air cold after spending so long with their own breath in their face. Ellis squints and wipes at their eyes, unsurprised to find their hand wet. At least it’s from crying and not blood, they think, and they laugh, unable to control themselves. The laugh grows high pitched and manic, and it’s starting to hurt when Moon pulls them close. 

He doesn’t kiss them, and Ellis is grateful because they cannot handle the idea of dealing with that on top of whatever breakdown they’re currently going through. Moon just holds them against his side in the relatively cool night air while Sun is… while Sun is dealing with the body. Ellis shivers and closes their eyes, burying themself against Moon’s side. 

“Think it was too soon for you to join us,” Moon finally says. Ellis lets out a weak giggle that’s quickly stifled behind one hand. “Too much at once?”

“I use a bat. It’s not sharp.” They’re still crying, and it’s still hard to properly articulate why. “He could’ve gotten better.” 

“Did you parents get better?” 

Ellis is quiet at that. They slump into Moon instead, squeezing their eyes shut when he toys with the curve of their ear. 

“You should rest in the car. I’m going to help Sun finish up here.” Moon starts to move, but Ellis nearly falls without the support. Moon holds them up with one hand. “Think you can make it?” 

Ellis looks down the driveway, where the car is hidden behind some trees. “Yeah,” they say, but Moon’s definitely not listening. He stands, gathering their things and pulling Ellis up with him. He helps them walk, even when they finally get their feet under them and could move on their own. They only protest when Moon starts helping them into the car, taking their hearing aids. “Hey, no, I need those.” 

Moon doesn’t reply, merely pocketing them somewhere in his pants. Ellis squints and tries to go for them, but he traps their hands in his, and this time there is a kiss. It’s brief, but it derails Ellis long enough for him to shut the door. They sit in the artificially (is it artificial if their ability to hear is the artificial thing) induced silence. Their mouth tastes rancid, and their gloves are itchy. They rip them off and throw them into the front of the car, dropping their head in their arms to scream.