#general yapping

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

the eternal ephemeral struggle...

i want a new header.. but it hurts to think about getting rid of it at the same time.. ily luka 🥲

might attempt a similar collage style but with some faves in general ig? or make that collage for the navi and just pick someone for header

my headers have really only been gavin, satan & luka far as i can remember... damn 😅

my struggle is that i already have silvio & marius all over the current layout.. but also i tend to have a purple theme on this blog. so hmm...

potential candidates/faves for the header: luka, yukimura, mitsuhide, arthur/napo(?), silvio/kagari/yves/rio/keith(?), harrison/victor(?), marius/luke, divus crewel, xavier/rafayel(?)...

honorable mentions: satan/simeon/solomon (om!), beelzebub (wihib), gavin/kiro, nico (midcin), deuce's mom, malleus(?), will/ring /jude (ikevil), theodorus/charles, ray/kyle/zero (ikerev), the klein twins, kanetsugu/mitsunari/ieyasu..... prolly more but ima shut up now lol

mainly for my own reference if/when i make 👍

[angel-fruitcake]

there will never be another accidental love story as insane or profound as destiel i fear

[circumstantialsimultaneity]

to be honest i kind of think a lot of the people who say really fearmongery things about how media literacy is "in decline" and how the younger generations are worse at dealing with "uncomfortable topics" than those before them are blinded by forced generational lines and their own nostalgia. our tragic and unimpeachable past youth in which we were innocent victims of the social climate around us vs their banal and doomed current youth in which they are hopelessly weak-willed agents of societal downfall. And they're stupider than us and uglier too.

[cowsaresushi-coral]

C R U C I F I C A T I O N

[izzystizzys]

As High Marshall Commander, a title foisted on him by the Galaxy’s fakest bitch aka Chancellor Palpatine, Fox theoretically has privileges and authorities like no other clone. In practice, he has a headache and gets ignored more obviously than before.

What he also has is a fancy new function on his personal comm unit modified to broadcast GAR-wide to all commanding officers, up to and including Jedi. It gathers dust next to his own modified button that sees much better use - a private channel to Stone, the only vod that will let Fox bitch at him to his heart’s content without hanging up (Thire) or bitching right back (Thorn).

It’s been a long shift of 72 hours, the maximum Stabby allows him to do without a well-placed hypo to the neck, when Fox finally collapses on his rickety cot in the Command quarters and hits the private comm connection to Stone without looking. He’s already rolling his eyes so hard it tweaks at the migraine that’s been building since hour 18 and heaving a put-upon sigh.

“Everyone is stupid, Stone, and asking to be thrown face-first from the Dome balustrades”, he begins, settling into a low, dead tone of voice to warm to the building monologue. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. “I swear to haran I’m going to wring Amedda’s stringy neck one of these days. I don’t know what magical Force gods his mother pissed off, but they made sure to punish her and the Galaxy at large a hundred times over. He sucks the joy and competence out of every room like a black hole of stupid. I’d call him a has-been, but I trust in the power of nepotism and also just don’t believe he ever was. I swear he’s doing it on purpose and - oh, kriffing Sith-damned hells, you know who’s definitely doing it on purpose?! The kriffing Chancellor, that wrinkly ass-faced ballsack!”

Taking a deep breath, Fox lets that sit in his chest for a moment, indulging in the feeling of bright weightlessness. “I swear he’s trying to keep the war going - no one man can be that incompetent and still draw breath, not even Amedda or Taa. Goddamn Taa - but anyways, kriffing hell, Stone, either the senility isn’t an act or he’s a bad cartoon villain from Dooby Scoo. Yes Sir, sending Senator Amidala to a Seppie-infested planet for negotiations is a great idea after her fourth bomb threat of the week. No Sir, I can’t hear you cackling evilly with Count Dooku under your lame two-credit robe as you’re definitely not colluding with the Republic’s enemies. What, you have a red lightsaber?! Oh, of course I don’t know what that means, I was dropped on the head as a tubie!”

Barely pulling in a harsh breath, Fox continues, palms pressing into his eyeballs hard enough to cause sparks. “And speaking of lightsabers and senile fucks, haran smite my ass off but who the kriff thought it’d be a good idea to give absolute tactical and military authority to the kriffing eldritch space monks! The Force didn’t bless them with the collective good sense it gave to a kriffing rock, and I’m tired of pretending otherwise! Has anyone kriffing read the Theed Convention of Sentient Rights in Wartimes?! NO?!! Well, color me UNSURPRISED, because war crimes ARE NOT! GOOD! BATTLE! TACTICS!!”

“They run around in crop tops, Stone, in crop tops! Oh, the Force provides - WELL I’M GOING TO PROVIDE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS, AND IT’S GOING TO HURT BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT WEARING KRIFFING ARMOUR!”

“Sure, let’s send the preteens into active warzones under heavy artillery in kriffing party wear! Surely nothing will ever go wrong! And give them commanding positions equivalent to CC-clones, WHO WERE LITERALLY GENETICALLY CREATED FOR IT! WITH A DECADE OF INTENSE TRAINING! LET’S DO THAT, BECAUSE WE’RE ALL KRIFFING STUPID!”

He’s gesturing wildly at the ceiling now, face heating up as his blood boils beneath the surface. “And you know what really gets my lowers in a twist, apart from the preteen commanding officers and blatant kriffing high treason and war profiteering?! Is it the complete lack of recognition? Gratitude? Basic sentient rights?! No, Stone, no, I would take all that in stride if it meant I never had to see Skywalker and Amidala kriffing canoodle right in front of me again, and pretend like it isn’t the galaxy’s worst conflict of interest case in the making!”

“By all levels of Sith-hell, what the kriff is wrong with that woman? You have it all, you could have anyone, and you choose that twatwaffle?! And then they have the gall to lock themselves in a broom closet for twenty minutes straight and have me guard it! ‘Oh yes, Senator, naturally we all go rattling brooms with our good friends! Nothing dodgy happening at all! I definitely believe you were looking for detergent and have used a washing machine before!’ The absolute nerve on those two! And then last week - you’ll never believe this - High General Windu passed by, and I swear he looked like he wanted to throw himself off the roof! I’ve never been less impressed by anyone in my life, and I’m batch-mates with Bly!”

“Speaking of Bly, that little bitchtit - if I have to edit one more, one more kriffing propaganda piece of him staring at General Secura’s bits, I’m going to stab my eye out! And if I have to edit one more of Secura staring at his bits, I’m going to stab the other one out! The only good thing I have to say about them is they’re more subtle than Skywalker and Amidala, which means nothing really. I will never understand that woman - but then she’s worked with Jar Jar Binks for a decade and not had a nervous breakdown, so she either has nerves of steel or is on some good-ass drugs.”

“Girl, your choices. And you know what else is a choice? Kote kriffing roundhouse-kicking heads off droids when he has a perfectly good blaster right there! I don’t know what the Longnecks put in his tube, but I hope to kriff it’s not contagious. I’d say I’m glad he has Kenobi to keep him in check, but that man wouldn’t know common sense if it punched his nose clean off his face. Flirting with General Grievous, ugh. I’d say he can do better, but honestly, they deserve each other.”

“And Wolffe - “, panting, Fox pauses, considering. “Well, Wolffe is an asshole and stupid, and I hate him because he’s stupid and has a stupid face. Also he keeps drunkenly submitting adoption paperwork on General Koon’s behalf - I wish I could say something mean about that, but honestly, his existence is roast enough. Anyways, bitches are trying me today, and by bitches I mean everyone. Commander Fox signing off to go not commit treason, unfortunately.”

Thoroughly powered out, Fox sinks into his hard mattress with a deep sigh. Several seconds of silence reign, and then his comm unit starts blaring in alarm.

Somewhere in the Jedi Temple, Mace Windu is knocked flat on his ass by a gargantuan shatterpoint exploding.

[jarold-rat]

You want to draw Benny brown so badly… and not make him pale or white at all… you want to draw Butch Deloria with brown skin like his 19year old model… and not make him white SO BADLY… you want to draw dean domino BLACK!!!!! DRAW ANYONE WITH FEATURES CLEARLY MEANT TO NOT BE WHITE… AS NOT WHITE…!!!!!!!!!

[shalom-iamcominghome]

I've been doing a lot of reflection as of late, especially after this past class.

This past class was about the Torah and Tanakh in general, and the way the rabbi talked about the commandments (specifically the ten commandments) has made me really reflect on how I interpret them, specifically the fifth commandment, or honoring your mother and father.

This is a commandment I have wrestled with for a long time - in fact, it brought me away from g-d at multiple times. I was severely abused when I was incredibly young by my mother, and I used to feel insulted at the implication that I were to honor her while she got to live a better life. It was hypocritical, in my eyes.

But this rabbi surmised that this particular commandment was because parenthood is an act of creation, something that is like the g-d from which we come from. My realization is this: I don't think we're necessarily meant to take even these commandments literally.

I this particular commandment is more of a call to honor creation - creation is a gift, and like any gift, many people simply will not like it and will discard it. The person who abused me created me, but she did not honor creation. She didn't honor me, but I can still honor it.

I have started to honor creation much more. I'm too young, too unstable, not mature enough to be a father (though I fantasize about it), but I create all the time. I create relationships, I create with my hands through crochet. I create memories, I create my world. And I can honor who I am and where I came from that made me who I am. I've been learning one of the mother tongues of my family (Italian, since part of my family originates there) and it was judaism that inspired me to do this.

I don't think g-d wants me to honor my abuser. I think He wants me to remember the Holy action of creation. When I am a father, that act of creation will be Holy, and indeed, I am already joyful about the thought.

I have seen many people struggle with this particular commandment, but I think this perspective helps me personally. I don't think I ever have to forgive my abusers (plural), and I don't think I am commanded to simply because they happened to be family. I am commanded to recognize the holy, to elevate the mundane. In doing so, I will remember g-d. Through creation, I honor g-d and everything he has done for us, for me, and for our collective people.

[julijbee]

girlbossing too close to the sun.

[joejhang]

i love you tragic sibling dynamics. i love you doomed siblings. i love you siblings that could've been so powerful together but were forced apart by circumstance (and shitty parenting). i love you siblings born to fight together forced to fight on opposite sides. i love you jinx and vi. i love you sirius and regulus. i love you azula and zuko.

[puppyeared]

did it seriously take me this long to realize the back of shadows head is shaped like dooms eye

[dryya-doesnt]

Death of Shad

Birth of the Shadow Lord

I hope you know I was looping "What Could Have Been" from the Arcane soundtrack the entirety of the time I was rendering this. haha

hhahaha

[rayroseu]

never let meleanor cook again 🔥

she def wont bcs shes on the other side now :(

still makes me ill that briarland used to be a open country like they permitted the humans to live in their land but the humans just abused that decision and now almost all faes have hesitance in getting along with humans bcs of how significantly traumatic her death was 😭💔 also maybe im reaching but maybe the time where Maleanor had to fight Knight of Dawn/Silver Owls was the only time she was alone (since its implied she was always with Levan and Lilia or staying at her castle with the other royal guards 😭✨)

also ik maleanor fought alone bcs she was really out of soldiers and having lilia escape alone while she stops the Silver Owls is beneficial for Briar Valley (bcs remember that silver owls also ravage the land they trespass so if she escapes with Lilia then the damage Briarland couldve suffered would stretch to Maleficia's castle instead of just in Wildrose castle) but STILL i do want to see her being calculating because her position in Briarland military is that she's the commander yk, maybe she knew this was a bad decision (bcs of her scene when she was being sentimental ("im a mother thats why i must conquer) to lilia when he reasoned with her) i just feel like the story couldve portrayed it a bit nuanced and not just come off as "meleanor died bcs she was too prideful" i think thats just too easy/simple for the writer to write as her cause of death lol

anyways excited for book 7 updates 😭✨✨ i know next update is about silvers dream im just too excited for maleanor's screentime akxjkskd

i knowww im so late to the trend 💀💀 my sense of time is literally the same as malleus' sldkflkd

[spkyart]

I am so normal about them

[shrimpyyyyy]

First time asking anything, I don't even know if I am doing this right but, maybe desperate General Lilia? I just want that man to be happy and just full of bliss unable to think I'm sorry if I did this wrong and you don't need to do this is you are uncomfortable with it! Have a nice day/night!

AAAH YES THANK YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY

Picture this, somehow you ended up in the General's tent, straddling him, his cock deep in your guts. And you just do it so damn good that he ends up squirming and letting out whimpers.

Now this is something that only you have ever seen, you're a bit taken aback, but when you feel his thumb on your tip/clit the thought dissapears.

"You..feel so fucking good around my cock-"

He manages to stammer out, unsure as to how in the name of the great seven a human could be doing this to him. He's convinced that you're an Incubus/Succubus of some kind with the way you bring him to tears. But no, he's just all hypersensitive and can't take much just yet, if you keep it up at this rate he should get used to it eventually, right?

[bodythieves]

shane mccutcheon x you | cw: intox!makeout, slight fingering?, dirty talk-ish | stoner!shane, neighbor!shane, anxious!reader (is that how i label this shit?)

THIS IS RLY LONG!

okay, okay. let's be honest here: you are not one for change. you are not one to break out of your routine, one to sway from your typical path. no, rather, you are steadfast in every moment of your day, to an absolute t. some of your friends like to tease you until your skin feels hot, and you look down at your feet. you have a google calendar (your lord and savior) and a prescription for an unnamed anxiety medication that you'd-rather-not-talk-about.

and shane. oh, god, shane mccutcheon. shane was your neighbor in a shitty LA apartment, a hairstylist/absolute fucking menace. every other day, she's sitting on the stoop, feet flat on the ground and elbows on her knees, a cigarette dangled between her lips. she'd smile, check you out- go to say something. but you- being you, of course- would quickly swing open the and duck inside.

today was particularly awful for you, though. your therapist had broken up with you. he was moving to a new practice, they didn't accept your insurance, and you had just gotten so comfortable. remember how we made it known that you weren't great with change? the smallest thing could make you itch. make you feel as if you had lost everything, like it all was over. so, understandably, you were having a meltdown inwardly that you couldn't let out until you reached the sanctuary of your one bedroom apartment and closed that manager's-special, white door. except you wouldn't be doing that, no. not now. because you felt your face betray you as you neared the pathway that led to the glass vestibule of the apartment complex. there she was.

"oh, look," she snorts softly through her nostrils, her lips quirking up into a smile upon seeing your own (even if it was microscopic). she had just sat down to smoke as you neared, her lithe frame hunched over as she picked through a paper cigarette pack. "didn't know you were able to do that." tracking shane's movements, your eyes followed the brunette as her slender fingers plucked out a cigarette, and brought it to that smug grin.

"I've smiled at you before." you said this far quicker than you would've liked to. quick enough that shane could tell you were already nervous. your paces brought you to the cement set of steps before the vestibule, the glass reflecting a soft glare from the setting LA sun. as you came closer, you let your gaze drift over her. shaggy brown hair, a charming disposition- definitely was trying to make you laugh. you cleared your throat, then looked back at Shane's cigarette before she lit it. "do you.. care if i bum one of those?"

um, who the fuck is that? why are you asking for a cigarette right now? oh, that’s right. you were being you when faced with uncomfortable amounts of difference in your typical day-to-day life. your therapist dumped you, your job is mundane, your family is incessantly nagging you, your anxiety is never-

“oh?” shane perked up, the filter of her cigarette now between her teeth as she smiled, rather than her lips. dark green eyes sparkled playfully, but her brows pushed up in an attempt to feign sympathy. she could tell you were feeling off today. after all, you were speaking. “yeah, sure, of course,” she said, fingering open the back with her thumb and taking a look. something about shane’s voice sounded so teasing. as if she wanted to sound like she’d take care of you, like she was worried. her left hand moved up to pull the cigarette from her teeth and her tongue darted out to wet the corner of her lip. A small tsk could be heard from her. “mm.. I only got my lucky left. you don’t care to share, do you?”

you were gonna faint. you were gonna fall over, die, cream your fucking pants. yeah, of course, you thought shane was hot before. why else would you avoid her every time she tried to holler at you? you couldn’t handle that. like we established earlier- you’re a hazard when your schedule is disturbed. but now? right here, standing just a couple feet away from a shane, engaging in conversation, breaking your perfectly time-alotted pattern? the thing that kept you distracted from all the shit of your daily experience? you’d never seen anything hotter.

you felt your body begin moving against your will, sitting down beside shane without missing a beat. your feet became brutus, your mind julius, crying why! you too?! you’re betraying me! as you turn and allow the backs of your sneakers to hit the cement step, lowering yourself down. part of it was definitely to show yourself off to shane. at least a little bit. if you were going to deter from your repetitive habits, why not be a little risky? flirt a little? on the other, you just needed to know that another person was real. what better proof is proximity? “yeah, that’s cool,” your voice is quiet as you take in the sight of shane so close and in such pretty light, your nerves absolutely eating at you.

her lighter was lime green and struggled to spark at first. instinctively, you reach out. you cup your hand around the lighter and use your fingers to hide shane’s cigarette. smoke curls from her nose and she pulls her face away, pinching her brows together as the cigarette began to spark. nodding a silent thank you for your assistance. hush sounds of burning paper, then a cloud of smoke, exhaled through the woman’s nose- you begin to forget. why had you never really spoken to her before? why do you avoid interaction like this?

“well,” shane mumbled from the butt of the cigarette, more smoke leaving her nose. “you have a pretty smile.”

you and shane sit in a friendly silence for a moment, but it’s quickly changing. you can feel that shane is checking you out. of course she is- you’re insanely cute. with high features that are just soft enough, making you so easily approachable. if only you weren’t an anxiety attack on legs! taking a glance at her, you can feel your heart pick up motion in your chest, thrumming inside of your work uniform. shane puts her fingers to her lips and pulls the cigarette away with her thumb and forefinger.

“you smoke weed?” you asked her, raising your eyebrow. your fingers moved, taking the cigarette between your own thumb and finger.

“uh,” she said, starting to let out a chuckle. “i mean, yeah. why?”

“you hold it like you’re smoking a joint.”

“hm,” shane smirked a little, letting you take the cigarette from between her fingers. “do you smoke?”

you shrug a little, taking a slow pull from the dart of tobacco, letting the thick smoke hit your throat and sit for a second. it had been a long time since you’d had one, and it always felt so right when you needed it. “sometimes,” you said, still holding your drag in your throat. “gives me bad anxiety on occasion. try to steer away from it.”

“damn,” shane’s green eyes rake over the side of your face, taking in your features as you blew out a faint stream of smoke. “you think this could be one of your sometimes?”

you pass the cigarette back, turning your head slightly to the left so you can look at shane. a sheepish expression crosses your lips and you mull over the thought. but only for a minute.

“yeah. honestly, i could probably use it.” what was a little more change? what was a little more anxiety? at this point, neither could push you any further than you already were. your response to shane’s question caused the brunette to smirk around the filter of the cigarette, and she nodded as she exhaled. you two sat for a few minutes after, sharing the smoke. there weren’t really any words spoken, but the lack of conversation was made up for in exchanged glances. you took a final drag of the cigarette, then dropped it on the ground and used the toe of your shoe to step it out.

simultaneously, you and shane stood on your feet from the stoop of the apartment complex. you looked her over- taking in her tall and dangly frame, hidden beneath a dark gray zip up and loose jeans, hanging from her hips. her shaggy hair was flippy and chopped, a small blonde tuft in the back. she was.. god, she was actually so cute. you looked away for a second, remembering that you were about to join her. upstairs. in her apartment. and smoke weed. with hot cheeks, you turned on your sneaker and moved on to the cement steps, pacing towards the glass door and slipping your key inside. shane’s presence was looming. literally. you felt her come up behind you and grab ahold of the metal frame just above your head, pulling it open wider so you could get in.

christ, you thought. you were betraying everything you knew: routine, mundanity, consistency. to go hang out with your neighbor who brought home new girls every other night, who smoked out the whole complex, who always smiled at you when she saw you. fuck, fuck, fuck- sneakers, both yours and shane’s, lightly thudded on the linoleum steps of the apartment hallway, bouncing off walls. jeez, focus long enough, you were certain you could hear your heartbeat echo back to you. oh, god, oh, god, oh, god- you stand behind shane, she leads you into her apartment. messy, disorganized, totally not you. you are well kept, you are neat, you are- totally about to jump this woman’s bones. you realize this as Shane sits down on her futon, legs spread wide, her lap just begging for you to come sit on it. oh, god. fuck. oh, god, oh-

“fuck,” you breathed out. you’d had to have been holding that in forever, lungs burning and eyes clenched tight. your head fell back on to the arm of shane’s futon and you could’ve sworn that this was all just a dream. that joint was either insanely strong, or you were losing time because of your previously high levels of anxiety and tension. ‘relax’- she had whispered to you, just before this heated session- ‘let me take care of you. i know what i’m doing, swear. only if you want me to.’ of course you wanted to. to deny that would be an absolute lie.

you feel shane’s breath fan against your neck, the sensation warm and all-consuming. her nose pushing against your jaw and nestling below your ear, soft lips brushing along your skin, ringed fingers slipped up your shirt and ghosted her fingers over your naval, teasing gently at a metal piercing that lay in the skin. her smile could be felt against your neck and she reared back, leaning on to the heels of her feet with a playful grin. her eyes sparkled and she pulled the hem of your shirt up with her right hand, then moved her left from the back of the futon. that hand made its sneaky way to your thigh, pushing your knee into the futon’s black fabric.

“that’s cute.”

“yeah?”

“oh, for sure. you.. got another one?”

“no,” you murmur shakily. you suddenly wished you had more. wished you’d succumbed to those thoughts of impulsivity that rushed through your brain when your spiraled out of control. you thought, for a moment, it would’ve made you more attractive. but… it seemed like shane didn’t mind it. she dropped your shirt and brought that right hand to her mouth, running her thumb and forefinger over her chin. her left then took hold of your black slacks, the uniform for your job, her forefinger hooking into a belt loop.

“that’s okay,” she said, looking at you through her lashes, letting her hand fall as she spoke. “you’d look really good with some more.”

you can’t do this any longer you are losing grip now. you shift your hips desperately, the futon squeaking annoyingly beneath you, but you brush it off. your nerves are shot, you’re insanely horny, you need to get this shit out of your system. “shane,” you mumble lowly, trying to get her attention. you succeed.

but first, she cracks that teeth-rotting smile. the one just sweet enough to make your mouth hurt, and sexy enough to make you sick. then, she does it. she leans in again, and you are full on making out. no longer just slowly kissing, clouded in a smoky haze, kisses tasting of resin and cigarettes. her lips are so soft, her fingers nimble and dexterous as they cup the small of your back. she pulls you. up, into a sitting position, and wraps her palm around the nape of your neck to hold you there. the hand that had pulled you shifted once more as shane lay back on to the futon, and you went right with her. she was handling you. not forcibly, no, but gently, enough to just guide you.

and seeking a safety net in your crumbling control, you let her. you slid into position, right in shane’s lap like you’d wanted to be in the first place. perfect. hanging your head low, you pushed down against your neighbor’s lap and felt yourself rush with a specific heat you only experienced when you knew you weren’t supposed to be doing something. foreheads pushed together, lips a breath apart, you closed the gap. your hands brace the sides of shane’s head and your knuckles nearly turn white from how hard you grasp on to the wooden frame.

shane’s kiss is absolutely filthy. she’s licking, drawing your mouth open as if it were a profound cavern she was in dire need to explore, pulling air from your lungs. you aren’t sure how you’re still feeling at this point, but a trace of shane’s touch runs down across your belly button piercing again and pulls at the button of your slacks. expertly, her lips never once stop moving as the plastic black button pops and she teases down your zipper.

you. oh, you have never been so hungry. you were starving. fuck schedules. fuck routine, to hell with repetition. what was it for anyway? to be comfortable? being comfortable never brought you into situations like this. without thinking, one of your hand relents from the frame and rushes to grab shane’s hand, pushing at her wrist so her fingers would cup just above your underwear, palm right over your pubis. you hadn’t shaved in awhile. though you were tidy, you hadn’t had any in awhile. shane liked it though. you could tell based on how she smiles against your mouth.

words no longer suffice. you clench violently around nothing, your need so heavy that you feel your pulse in the depths of your center. shane pulls away only for a moment to gaze into your eyes as she pulls the fabric of your slacks just slightly past your hips. enough to where she can push your underwear to the side and tuck her fingers against your warm skin, and enough to watch you react.

“you..” shane nearly moans out the word. “you’re.. stupid wet right now.” her brows turn up and she parts her lips, leaning forward on to futon so she could be closer to you. her fingers moved. and you’d never felt something so good. silver rings, soft fingertips, hands that knew what they were doing. you shuddered and jerked, nearly squealing as she ran her thumb over your clit. she looked like she was about to worship you. like she was ready to pray to you. she was so adorable, somehow.

“yeah,” there’s hardly anything but desire behind your voice now. “yeah, i.. i told you-“ you grunt and jerk your hips.

just as Shane’s fingers begin to move in circles, your eyes flutter shut and you begin rocking your hips.

“i needed that joint.”

shane hums out a low chuckle and nods her head. her thumb leaves your clit for only a moment. brushing south and rubbing along your entrance, she eases the truth from your lips.

“i hoped it would end with this, too.” you tone was airy, so overwhelmed with need that you could hardly hear yourself speak.

and just like that, how the truth did set you free. shane’s lips met yours and she kissed you so slowly. lips locked passionately, as if she were thirsty and the only refreshing thing was your kiss. her fingers moved back to your clit, stroking and pushing in motions that rounded your hood with horrifying ease. this was too good. this was great. this was perfect.

you were never going to stick to routine ever again.

notes: okay that’s it im done Im so sorry to lead up so much to barely anything at all but. BUT I GOT NERVOUS. ANYWAY HERE’S THIS IM TAGGING @thestarkillers bc ik they love shane the way i do and this is for them ok bai ALSO i wrote the second half of this drunk. enjoy!

[pairingbrainrot]

!!!!!

(Clip starts at 3:10)