#give them something or do something for them or HAH. to literally fuck them

[mxdarling]

[brainrot]

food for thought but how about a coffee shop au except it's about to go into bankruptcy because of the lack of revenue the business is making (hence why you're the only working employee at the shop, also for the plot).

As you're about to finish your last shift for today, a customer comes in, and omg its topaz. part of the top 10 students in the IPC and is a member of the council, the tenstonehearts (yeah its also a fucking university/college au HAH!) and oh lord is she beautiful. (not so) plot twist, you have a tinsy tiny crush on her, which makes it even harder on you to focus on typing in her order because she's so up close??? why is she leaning on the counter, why is she low-key giving you the bedroom eyes, why did she leave such a massive tip after getting her order, and did- did she just winked at you??? someone get the ambulance please...

next few weeks, topaz always comes back for her usual order (also comes back to make you flustered by being so nice and kind to you??what???) until she doesn't show up in her usual time but rather a blonde haired man walks in. ofc you knew that was, it was aventurine, who's also part of the top 10 students in the IPC and part of the council, the tenstonehearts, he looks around the cafe, mumbles something along the lines of "so this is where topaz has been going to nowadays..." and then turns to you with that signature smile of his, telling you his order.

okay, you werent the biggest fna of aventurine but you couldn't deny the charm his flamboyant personality had on you yet somehow something inside of you felt the need to built wall around him, he left a massive tip (even more masive than the ones topaz usually gives) and just as he's about to leave, a familiar face comes rushing into the cafe, and wouldn't you know, its topaz! cue the tension slipping in because the air in the cafe suddenly became so heavy. you could see that they were talking, but their gaze towards each other was anything but pleasent. then aventurine left, leaving you and topaz alone, she warns you about him and stuff, planting a kiss on the back of palm as a way to "protect you" from him.

(you fucking shortcircuied because THE topaz just kissed you on the hand??? WHAT???)

so then the next few weeks, it's been alternating between topaz and aventurine on who could flirt with you better, no joke, they want you so bad its crazy!!! trying to one up another by leaving a bigger tip than the other, they're literally the sole reasons why the cafe is still up and running, which leads them to their next competition. whoever contributed the highest amount of money towards the cafe gets to keep you!! do you consent? no really, is it entertaining watching them try to duke it out with one another? incredibly so, would you say you hate the attention that has been brought upon you by two top students of the IPC? nope, in fact you enjoy every bit of attention they gave you (bcs you're desperate for it).

by the end of the month, the person with the highest contribution was...

neither of them...

both had somehow contributed the same amount by the end of the month, which leaves it at a tie but.. they aren't gonna accept a tie, so they turn to you for answers...

[mogamuncher]

“You're on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path, is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin, is a knight. You are here to slay him. If you don't, it will be the end of the world.”

Please accept my meager shitty art as we come back for part three of the "Moga fuses her hyperfixations together" saga! Aka: Slay the Knight AU!

Here's what I think Emilia and Subaru would look like, in true STP fashion I imagine both would never be referred to by name, instead being The Knight and The Frozen Bond (hah, get it?)

I made Emilia a little scary (and kinda Satella-esque), but that's mainly because from what we see in The Princess and The Dragon route, The Long Quiet is just actually fucking scary, so having Emilia be similarly intimidating would be fun.

Though I do think her personality would remain the same in this au, mainly because she's nice enough that she would naturally play mediator to the the voices, but malleable enough that she could just end up going with their whims when pushed enough.

Now for Subaru, I actually wanted to give him a definitive outfit that would kinda function like the Princess's dress, something that is a constant in every design but changed to fit the theme, the recognizable trait that showcases that no matter how fucked up these forms get they're still the same person

That's kinda why the little cape is there, it's supposed to be a significant design choice that can be warped with future forms

For the official lore, I like to think that it's still actually very similar:

The Frozen Bond, the manifestation/god of stasis, consistency, the chilling frozen in time allure of stagnation

While Subaru would be something like The Returning Cycle, the manifestation/god if constant change, perspective and identities splitting depending on choices, the constant cycle of time

Together they'd make the cycle of life and death, in a sense, and since Echidna in canon was trying to find a way to reach immortality, it is only fitting that she would split them apart and attempt to pit them against the other, as to goad Emilia into killing Subaru, this ending the concept of change, making it so that there is no means of which others can die.

But that's what I have for the moment, now, let's talk about some more ideas I have for the IF Barus

The Prisoner, my beloved

I rewatched someone playing her route and it dawned on me when The Shifting Mound described her as a vessel, but she's oddly a lot like Slothbaru

The idea of someone cautious to the point of stagnation, content to let the world pass her and remain in inaction, I mean, that's literally what Sloth is shown to be in the og series. That's also inherently what Slothbaru did when he took Rem's hand and ran away, leaving everyone else to die, but gaining a happy life for himself

Prisoner is like an Slothbaru that can't take Rem's hand, content to let the world pass him by for the sake of self preservation, but stuck in one place without the chance of running away, he can only wait and see because he's inherently passive, as he thinks he has no other choice

The Adversary, however, is the funniest one I think

Someone mentioned in the last post in the tags that Adversary is kinda Smolbaru coded, so I went back to read the arena fights in arc 7 and y'know what? They're correct, they're absolutely right, The Adversary is very much just Smolbaru

Which is funny, because The Adversary is supposed to be bigger and stronger than usual, though maybe it's either just that his personality is Smolbaru and his appearance is still intimidating, or we go all in and have Smolbaru just absolutely kick Emilia's ass with his bare hands in this one

Either way, I love it, also this is the route where Priscilla (Voice of the Proud) would show up, so having an Arc 7 Baru here would be a nice touch

Ok so I'm about to sound unhinged, but the Grey's

What if they were Natsumi.

Now, look, I have no evidence to back me up on this, I'm going off from pure vibes alone, but like what if

Honestly, it would be fun to have most of the Deadbarus be in some way or another Natsumi coded, though that would be fused with the Baru that lead to their routes in the first place (like Arc 1 Baru for the Burned Grey and Slothbaru for the Drowned Grey)

I mean, look at The Wraith and The Spectre

Imagine if the Spectre was more akin to Natsumi in her purest form, since the Spectre is actually surprisingly chill and nice about this whole thing, and then if you attempt to leave him there, you get the Wraith

A withered rotten version of Natsumi, falling apart at the seams and determined to hitch a ride and finally leave

In more confirmed Barus; Wrathbaru as The Witch and The Thorn, Greedbaru as Happily Ever After and Arc 1-2 Baru as The Damsel, The Nightmare would be Gluttonybaru and A Moment Of Clarity would still be Gluttonybaru but with more Louis/Rui elements

Again, I accept suggestions, and tell me if you want me to make more art for this AU, maybe I can draw more Barus and also the voices, who knows?

[tgcg]

an open fly walking

i didnt like this one but i thought id finally air it out since its been sat in my folders for months now

TG: hey karkat

CG: YEAH?

===

TG: you ever noticed you like

TG: walk weird

CG: WOW, OKAY.

CG: HAVE *YOU* EVER NOTICED THAT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT?

TG: pff

===

TG: no listen because i got my ears scoping that shit im like a scouter for dude activity

TG: ok maybe me mentioning it to you is gonna fuck up your ecosystem or something but

TG: you have the heaviest feet of the century man

CG: I DO???

TG: just thrust them straight down into the ground like youre trying to homebrew a san andreas fault

TG: viciously tamping on tectonic plates hoping for top score on the richter scale

TG: waging war against solid particles and the basic flow of gravity

TG: i could ID those footfalls out of a million i mean it

CG: SERIOUSLY?

===

TG: i mean theres nothing wrong with it but

TG: yeah

CG: I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME RIGHT NOW.

TG: im not fucking with you striders honor

TG: when have i ever lied to anybody about anything

CG: NOT UNPACKING THAT QUESTION WITH YOU TODAY.

CG: BUT SHIT, HOLD ON. LET ME SEE.

TG: yeah take the umbrella go over there and just walk to me

CG: ON IT.

===

===

TG: see you just kinda slam em straight down dude

CG: THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY RIOTOUS FUCKING JOKE OF A LIFE.

TG: dont your feet ache

===

CG: MOOT POINT. THIS MIGHT SOUND INSANE BUT I'VE ACTUALLY HAD MY STRUT PODS FOR A WHILE. ANY KIND OF PAIN THIS WOULD'VE BEEN CAUSING WOULD BE TOTALLY FILTERED OUT OF MY SPONGE BY NOW AS BACKGROUND NOISE.

TG: damn i didnt think that through

TG: my shades

CG: ALRIGHT, GET BACK UNDER THE SHITTING UMBRELLA AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ME.

TG: look ive fucked myself over here too i dont have shit to clean these with

TG: ugh

===

TG: guess its karma

CG: HOLY FUCK. HOW DID I NEVER NOTICE THIS BEFORE?

TG: i dunno but im gonna assume having a dad thats a literal crab monster is probably a contributing factor

TG: im guessing thats not a great role model for this kinda thing

TG: just conjecture i mean

CG: YOUR ENVY IS OVERWHELMINGLY OBVIOUS DAVE. AS A DISCLAIMER, HE WOULD'VE ABSOLUTELY KICKED YOUR ASS.

TG: yeah probably

CG: THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL THERE IS TO SAY ON THE MATTER.

===

TG: but see bro had me stringent on feather feets

TG: i bet i could slip across a bike horn warehouse with nary a fucking toot

CG: HAHA. ASSUMING YOU DON'T MAKE A TOTAL ASS OF YOURSELF, AS PER USUAL.

CG: IF YOU WEREN'T CONSTANTLY RUNNING YOUR GASH ABOUT EVERYTHING AND BEING AN INIMITABLE CLOWN I SERIOUSLY THINK YOU COULD BE ON PAR WITH YOUR CUSTODIAN.

CG: THAT IS A MONUMENTAL "IF".

TG: well look at it this way

TG: im basically doing you all a favor by being a dumbass

TG: never gonna get caught off guard by the bozo patrol

CG: WOW. GOOD POINT.

===

TG: also screw this can i use your shirt

TG: this stupid hoodie is just smudging my lenses up

TG: i cant see dick

CG: UH

CG: SURE, I GUESS.

TG: cool

===

TG: so yeah i could be prowling around like a goddamn verbal assassin sniping convos left and right

TG: but no ive got the decency to go bunp in the night

CG: YEAH.

CG: IT'S DEFINITELY COMPOUNDED BY THE CONSTANT INANE RAMBLINGS.

CG: BUT

CG: IT'S ACTUALLY PRETTY RELAXING, Y'KNOW? IT HAS ITS OWN RHYTHM.

TG: see yeah i sound it off and

===

TG: wait really?

CG: YEAH

CG: I DON'T KNOW

CG: FUCK. HOW DO I EXPLAIN THIS WITHOUT WANTING TO CRAM MY FROND DOWN MY PROTEIN CHUTE.

===

CG: IT'S LIKE

CG: A SALVE FOR MY AGGRAVATION SPONGE.

CG: YOUR VOICE IS THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT OF ASPIRIN.

TG: uh damn karkat hold your hoofbeasts i was talking about the rhythm thing

CG: ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M TAKING US BOTH THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE BAD END OF THIS CONVERSATION.

TG: you think thatd be heroic or just

CG: IF I WAS STILL GHOSTING AROUND THE RUINS OF SGRUB'S ARCANE FRIGGIN GAME SYSTEMS, THE COMPLETE LACK OF SHIT AFOOT NOWADAYS WOULD BORE ME TO DEATH.

CG: LIKE. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME OUR THERMAL HULL LEVELLED UP, DAVE?

TG: hah

===

TG: but uh

TG: i mean we had aspirin on earth

CG: NO, NUMBNUBS.

CG: I'M SAYING YOU ARE MY ASPIRIN.

TG: oh

CG: YEAH, TAKE THAT TO THE BANK AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR 20-KARAT ASS.

===

TG: heh

TG: well get this

TG: i will literally talk at you forever for free

TG: you got lifetime priority seating for the davealogues

TG: never gotta go to the drugstore again you can just get doped up on my dulcet tones for the rest of time

TG: take that and some of this

TG: im packin punches

CG: OW, FUCK! NO! MY MIGRAINES!

CG: SWEEPS OF VEINCLOTTING AND NERVEFRAYING DOWN THE FUCKING GAPER. BECAUSE OF YOU.

CG: YOU ASSHOLE, THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME.

CG: AND YOU'RE LAUGHING.

TG: chuckle up it only gets worse from here

===

CG: BE HONEST WITH ME. DID FONDLING MY SHIRT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET EVEN DO ANYTHING?

TG: barely but yknow sometimes you just gotta deal the cards youre given

TG: ill just be astigmatic for a while its cool

CG: PFF… OKAY MAN.

[gojosprettyprincess]

Raise!!

Synopsis - You were going through a really tough time and needed more money so you asked your boss Nanami for a raise but it seems like he has something else in mind.

Not proofread

A/n - Repost from my account that got terminated.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

“Fuck look at you clenching around my cock like a fucking slut". He groans loudly as he uses his pure strength to bounce you on his cock like a ragdoll.

"You dirty fucking whore bet you'll do anything for money wouldn't you?”. He snickered, chuckling while he lets out a low “fuck”

This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't how it was supposed to be. You were going through a really rough time and struggling with money for the past few days, and you'd hoped your sweet boss Kento would understand what you were going through and give you a raise even if it's something small, after all, he's a Jujutsu sorcerer, that man makes more money then you ever will in your whole life. But it seems like he had something else in mind.

And that's how you end up in the situation you're in right now, in your Boss's office. His cock nested into your tiny wet cunny, thrusting himself in and you of you, his angry leaky tip hitting your poor cervix with deep ecstasy as he trails wet kisses on your neck.

"You have no idea how fucking long I've been hah—waiting for this" he whispers against your neck, sending literal chills down your spine.

"Always walking around in those tiny fucking skirts, it's like you were begging to get fucked. Shit you always look so fucking hot, always making my dick hard".

You were really surprised by that, Nanami was always really nice to you, nice to everyone actually, always smiling at them and asking about their day, he’d get everyone coffee and pastries in the morning he was just super nice and sweet. This side of him was very unexpected. What's even more unexpected was the fact that he wanted you.

"Wha—what??" You asked confused, your eyes widenings

"We shouldn't be doing this sir!" you squeaked.

"But you wanted a raise, didn't you? Well, you're going to fucking get it" he groans as he picks up the pace fucking his cock into your pussy from below as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders for dear life.

He hugs your frame, your breast against his hard chest as his arms tighten around you, he starts ramming his cock into your cunt at a faster pace, his cock brushing against your g spot with each roll of his hips while he's stretches you open.

“Fuck Ken, It's s'big" you moaned loudly, as if they aren't other people in the next room that could hear, feeling completely split apart around his cock, he was so big, the biggest you've ever had.

“You’re so fucking loud” he grunts as he lands a harsh smack on your plush ass that definitely left his handprint, “Fuck, you want everyone to know how much of a fucking slut you are clenching around my dick like this, don’t you”.

“Tell me how much you fucking love my cock you filthy bitch.”

"Lo—love it s'much” you try your best to make out. Feeling fucked out as ever.

"Fuck, have I really fucked you dumb already that you can't even form a proper sentence?" he groans while laughing. "You’re gonna have to do better than that princess."

"Your cock feels so good inside of me daddy, it's s'big!" you cried out, feeling his cock twitching inside of you.

"Good fucking girl, Hah—Fuck, that’s what I like to hear, you're gonna make me cum darling".

"You’re going to be so fucking full after I'm done with you."

Your eyes widen with the realization of what he meant. "N-no not inside, please"

"What about that raise princess? Don't fucking make me change my mind, I'm gonna fill your slutty cunt with all my cum and you're going to fucking take it" he stands up with him still inside of you as he places you flat on his desk, your legs hanging over his shoulders as he continues thrusting his massive cock into your gushing wet cunt, your slick dripping down to your asshole, ruining the freshly printed papers from below.

"Hah—Oh fuckk" he moans, slamming his cock into you at an impossible pace, his nails digging deep into your soft thighs as you looked up in horror at what he's about to do "Fucking take it bitch."

You felt his release spurting inside of your pussy, filling you up and causing your eyes to roll at the back of your head. His cock twitches inside of you nonstop, his head falling back as he slowly began pulling out, watching as his cum gushes out of your ruined pussy, dripping down on your asshole onto the desk you were planted on. A small puddle appears beneath you. You were completely fucked out, trying your best to regain your breath as you look up at him.

He slaps his cock against your soaking cunt, groaning as the cum splatters on him. "You like being filled, don't you? You better get used to this if you want to get paid more or maybe you can just be my little office slut, getting paid to Cock warm me all fucking day”.

[astonmartinii]

brother's best friend | lance stroll social media au

pairing: lance stroll x fem schumacher!reader

there's something about the guy your brother tells you is off limits...

MASTERLIST | MY TIP JAR

mickschumacher

liked by estebanocon, lancestroll and 1,099,458 others

tagged: yourusername

mickschumacher: happy birthday to the biggest pain in my ass

view all comments

user1: y/n is so mother that her birthday really should be a national holiday

yourusername: what ass? babe you built like an ironing board

mickschumacher: you're talking real loud for someone who has a smaller ass than me 🤨

yourusername: you wanna get the tape measure out ???

user2: I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE

liked by lancestroll

yourusername: HAH

mickschumacher: i'll give you this one FOR ONCE only because it's your birthday

yourusername: you're SO generous

user3: both mick and y/n really got the unhinged gene from michael

user4: now we know why toto separates them in the paddock LOL

lancestroll: mick you were such a cute kid, what happened?

mickschumacher: EY stay out of it this is schumacher business

mickschumacher: or at least call y/n ugly too ugh 😩

lancestroll: my dad taught me that it's wrong to tell lies sorry

mickschumacher: BACK UP ??? what's that supposed to mean?

yourusername: is no one allowed to compliment me anymore?

mickschumacher: NO. especially not a man. especially not an f1 driver. they're all whores.

estebanocon: ????

maxverstappen1: ????

lancestroll: ????

yourusername: is that why you got dropped? too bitchless?

mickschumacher: HOW DARE YOU? I PULL. I DO.

yourusername: sure you do

mickschumacher: that's it. if you're going to use my loneliness against me, then i invoke the kat stratford rule. you can't date until i do

yourusername: that is so horrifically tragic. who says i'm not already seeing someone?

this comment has been deleted

mickschumacher: I SAW THAT

user5: everybody pray for y/n

user6: for real i think mick lost all of his patience at haas 😭

yourusername

liked by lancestroll, mickschumacher and 983,409 others

yourusername: all my birthday wishes came true

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user7: cue the mick meltdown

mickschumacher: WHAT 😭 THE 😭 FUCK 😭

yourusername: yes?

mickschumacher: does ten things i hate about you mean nothing to you?

yourusername: no ! but i like [redacted] more

mickschumacher: you can use [redacted] all you want but i will literally break in to your house I'M GETTING IN THE CAR

yourusername: soz girlypop but i'm at [redacted]'s house xoxo

mickschumacher: don't think i won't call sebastian i know he has you on find my friends

yourusername: go for it buddy i am completely confident in mine and seb's relationship

mickschumacher: @sebastianvettel pick up your phone

sebastianvettel: leave me be mick, i have met [redacted] and i think he's a great match 👍

mickschumacher: WHAT

user8: well that was dramatic

user9: get that man back in the car before he genuinely runs across europe looking for y/n

user10: i love how they're all going along with the [redacted] nonsense

user11: i know seb was having way too much fun with it

estebanocon: happy birthday y/n, i hope [redacted] treated you well !

yourusername: why thank you esteban, i have had a great time

mickschumacher: do not tell me you know as well :(

estebanocon: i don't but saying [redacted] is super fun 🤩

lancestroll: [redacted] does make them sound like a criminal

mickschumacher: when i found out who it is, they may become part of a criminal trial

lancestroll: okay buddy...

yourusername: thank you lance, at least someone here is talking sense

mickschumacher: don't use my friends against me 🤨

yourusername: maybe he's my friend too dumbass

user12: or more 😏

mickschumacher: do not even speak that into existence

user13: i need it to be lance or at least another driver just for mick's reaction at this point

lancestroll

liked by estebanocon, yourusername and 1,077,487 others

tagged: yourusername

lancestroll: just appreciating the birthday girl

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user17: WAIT !! let me grab my popcorn 🍿

user18: i am sat for this mick meltdown

user19: it might be an all-timer

yourusername: before mick inevitably throws all his toys out of the pram... i love you sir lancelot !! thank you for the amazing birthday and for being the best boyf eva xxx

lancestroll: i love you too darling, glad we could spend all this time together before the season starts again

yourusername: booooo i don't wanna share you :(

lancestroll: you could just join me ...

yourusername: do NOT threaten me with a good time

user20: i think i can hear mick having a tantrum from all the way across the world

mickschumacher: ABSOLUTELY NOT. NO. NOPE. NADA. THIS IS NOT HAPPENING. DELETE.

lancestroll: you done?

mickschumacher: NO I AM NOT. TAKE YOUR MOUTH OFF OF MY SISTER. THE ONLY SCHUMACHER YOU WILL BE KISSED BY IS MY FIST

lancestroll: bit too late for that

mickschumacher: HALT. i do not need to know that :(

yourusername: have you got it out of your system? because i really love lance and i'm sorry we kept it from you, but we thought it was best while we figured it all out

mickschumacher: i am happy for you. all i want to see is you happy, and if that is lance so be it. just no pda in front of me

lancestroll: you're saying this like i'm a monster? i'm literally your friend, surely that's a good sign?

mickschumacher: wait. i thought we were best friends :(

lancestroll: yes! we're bffs ! best friends forever + este

estebanocon: yes we love you mick even when you scream all the time and call us whores?

yourusername: gosh you're such a drama queen, have this heart to heart in the group chat this is a birthday post for ME

user21: well this got suprisingly heartfelt

sebastianvettel: happy birthday y/n, i'm happy for both of you!

yourusername: thank you seb ! x

lancestroll: thank you seb, wingman of the year

mickschumacher: WHAT

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, lancestroll and 923,766 others

tagged: lancestroll

yourusername: my boyf just won point with broken wrists, what the fuck are y'all doin?

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user24: this was so sexy of lance honestly

maxverstappen1: winning the race bozo

yourusername: the question was clearly rhetorical genius

maxverstappen1: i don't care 🤷‍♀️

user25: i always forget that these two technically grew up together

lancestroll: the doctors said i still need to be looked after, will you be my sexy nurse?

mickschumacher: EW this is exactly what i was talking about. keep this shit to yourselves

mickschumacher: PLUS, i don't think that would be wise with broken wrists

lancestroll: gotta ruin all of our jokes now?

yourusername: so me being a sexy nurse is a joke :( ?

lancestroll: no! you can definitely look after me and you're definitely sexy

yourusername: good good. sit back and relax baby

user26: what if we also want to be seen by sexy nurse y/n?

mickschumacher: choke

lancestroll: choke

fernandoalo_oficial: so no mention of my podium 🤨

yourusername: bore off old man you've got completely functioning wrists

fernandoalo_oficial: still impressive no?

yourusername: cry me a river

lancestroll: it was very impressive fernando

fernandoalo_oficial: at least one of my kids respect me

yourusername: god i think being a drama queen is a requirement for being an f1 driver

user27: she's not wrong

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by lancestroll, yourusername and 1,452,887 others

fernandoalo_oficial: accidentally acquired two kids this season

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user28: grid dad fernando is back baby

user29: who is the mum and can i be her?

yourusername: soz mark beat you to it

oscarpiastri: does that make us all siblings?

mickschumacher: absolutely not. the schumacher gang is very exclusive

fernandoalo_oficial: who said i claimed you?

mickschumacher: as if you wouldn't want to claim me

yourusername: soz mick, looks like only one of us slays

lancestroll: fernando has taste 💅

mickschumacher: i hate you both

yourusername: love you too x

user30: golly gosh these girlies are so dramatic

user31: lance, y/n and oscar is the chill trio we need

yourusername: also thanks pa for the cute pic x

lancestroll: and for not complaining the whole time

yourusername: SOME people could learn a thing or two ....

mickschumacher: hey! i am a good photographer you're just ugly

lancestroll: you take that back

mickschumacher: you were my friend first you should be on my side :(

yourusername: you snooze you lose mickster

lancestroll: :p

user32: so glad that this relationship is bringing out lance's sassy side

user33: now all we need is the return of the racing point hair

yourusername: i'm on it 🫡

yourusername

liked by estebanocon, lancestroll and 1,099,432 others

tagged: lancestroll

yourusername: the romance books didn't lie, there really is nothng like your brother's best friend

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user34: boyf!lance got me going feral

user35: third pic is defo going platinum on pinterest

lancestroll: all the turmoil was worth it :)

yourusername: turmoil being mick pouting at you for like three hours

lancestroll: i am a sensitive man! i don't like people being upset with me :(

yourusername: mick is just a drama queen, probably his way of hazing you, or distracting himself from being lonely

mickschumacher: for that lonely comment you just got yourself stuck with a third wheel

mickschumacher: FOR LIFE

estebanocon: and me !! don't forget about meeee

user36: my fave unproblematic foursome

yourusername: hold your horses babe two of that four are siblings maybe we should reword this

sebastianvettel: is mick finished now? can i safely go back on my phone without getting ten billion calls about you and lance?

yourusername: yeah i think he's got it out of his system

sebastianvettel: good. but you and lance are still on babysitting duty for putting my through this

lancestroll: not the punishment you think it is we love those kids

yourusername: plus lance is cute with kids and gives me major baby fever

sebastianvettel: oh no...

mickschumacher: WHAT ABSOLUTELY NOT NO BABIES YET I ONLY JUST ACCEPTED YOU DATIGN I DON;Y WANT TO THINK ABOUT... THAT

yourusername: but baby lancelots would be so cute :(

lancestroll: baby y/ns would be cuter

yourusername: that's it. seb sorry we will be a little late

mickschumacher: DELETE

fin.

note: this request has been in the bank for a while and i know i took a lil creative liberty but i hope you enjoyed!! also thought lance deserved some love after the recent tomfoolery ... alas! happy new year and i hope everyone has a great new years eve xx

[lightseoul]

a/n. short continuation of sober

"wh—what?"

bakugou shakes his head, eyes droopy. "i said, i want to kiss you."

your throat is now dry. "you must be joking."

"am not," he drawls. "i'm fuckin' sober."

at that, you let out an involuntary snort. "sure, big guy."

he frowns, pouting. "you don't believe me?"

your stomach flips at his challenge. you've spent all this time trying to suppress your feelings for him, and now he's making it all the more difficult?

when you don't answer, he simply asks another question.

"why did you resign? was there something i did or said that chased you away?"

"just personal reasons," you offer.

"like what?"

you shake your head, "i'm not obliged to give a detailed account of my reasoning to you. HR's the one in charge of that information."

"really?" he questions, voice small. "if i begged you to tell me, would you?"

"you? begging?" you cackle. if there's anything bakugou katsuki would most definitely not do, it's begging, let alone begging you—a mere sidekick.

"i would do it you know," he says like he's thought about it before and is now 100% sure of it. "i just need to know why you quit."

you're not about to tell him it's because you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on him, so you lie through your teeth. "i'm planning to start my own agency with some pro hero friends."

almost instantly, bakugou deflates in his seat.

"oh."

"not that i hate my current job or anything," you quickly add before scrambling to conjure more lies. "it's just that—"

"do you hate me?" he asks out of the blue, you almost choke in surprise.

"no!" you exclaim, and you do so fervently because you don't. in fact, you have to leave because how you feel about bakugou is veering dangerously close to like.

he lets out a sigh of relief upon hearing your response. "good. i was...worried."

before you could even stop yourself, you ask: "why?"

at that, he shrugs, somewhat refusing to meet your gaze. "i think i like you, whatever the fuck that means."

your heart leaps to your throat. you scramble for an acceptable response.

"i liked having you as my boss, too, bakugou."

a pause.

"hah?"

your eyebrows furrow. "what?"

"i don't mean it that way, idiot." he shakes his head before heaving a sigh in exasperation. "i like like you. don't you get it?"

oh, god.

this can't be happening.

"...i don't think i do."

at that, he sighs again, visibly frustrated at your lack of understanding. "dumbass."

"hey!"

he shakes his head. "i've been dropping hints left and right. i can't believe you missed all of them."

if what he's saying is true, and with the knowledge you have of bakugou, those hints sure as hell weren't obvious. all he did was tease you, call you a plethora of nicknames including your actual one, refuse to have any other sidekick aside from you, and search for you in his drunken haze.

oh.

"fuck."

he snorts. "i agree."

you stand there in shock for what feels like an hour before regaining your capacity for speech.

"how am i supposed to know this isn't just some alcohol-fueled ruse?"

"confront me tomorrow," he says easily. "i'll have a hard time denying it."

literally just whipped this up in 30 minutes. i hope it wasn't too bad lmao

as always, reblogs and comments are much appreciated <3

[orbitariums]

( in the accent of a suburban blk girlie ) dhmu just thinking ab being art and patrick's joint pretty little thing and they're both like hah ! art/patrick could never score a girl like this, she's different from every woman ive ever met ( black as hell, boujie as hell, BUILT as hell ), he doesn't have it like me. and then all of a sudden they both find themselves at a mostly black club she frequents and posts ab on myspace a lot and they both find themselves giving her flirty, llustful looks across the dance floor at her, go to give eachother a 'hah you could never pull all that' look and realize they're both doing the same thing and then realizing that you could pull any little frat-esque, trust funded white boy you wanted and they LOCK TF IN on proving they could treat and fuck you best

- 🎹

all that | artrick + black reader

literally obsessed with this request piano anon ... thissss is universe-building and i LOVEEEE to cross cultures >:-) also, made this playlist to fit the vibe (tried to keep it 2006 themed but haddd to throw some cash cobain in there — his new album is also perfect to listen to for this)

contains: a FINE black GYAL, art + patrick feening they ain't never BEEN with a baddie, smut: fingering, oral (f! receiving), threesome i realize i could've made this a drabble but i'm a writer. so imma write. so i hope y'all fw this! word count: 7.7k and not proofread

It's giving Stanford era Art and Patrick — Art feels like he has dibs on you because he met you first and takes a few classes with you. Unlike Patrick, Art prides himself on being your friend — even though you've really only interacted through class projects, and Art hardly has the courage to talk to you outside of class.

You're different from anybody Art or Patrick have wanted in the past. Stanford opened up a door to a whole new world for them — a world outside of rich white girls who spent their summers in the Hamptons or elite tennis camps. and you were the key holder. you were hands-down the most stunning girl they'd ever seen. For Art, it was the Marley twists that reached your butt (a staple hairstyle of yours when you weren't rotating from lace fronts to sew-ins to natural), the way your brown eyes glimmered when a ray of sun shone over you through the window.

For Patrick it was your lips, thick and glossy or perfectly painted with a brown lip combo — gawking at you in the cafeteria when he visits and watching you reapply your lip gloss after you eat might be his favorite pastime.

Once, Patrick literally groaned, throwing his head back with a hand on his forehead when you bent over to pick up your lip liner, then readjusted your jeans and did that little jump trying to fit your ass properly back in the pants. Art couldn't even call him out on it because it took everything in him to hold back a whimper.

Your skin was supple and a rich brown, soft like a pillow they wanted to sink into. everything about you was something to admire — your laugh, the certainty in your voice whenever you spoke, your graceful yet assertive demeanor. You knew who you were, and that was something lacking from all the Sarahs and Kaylors and Brittanys they had been with. And, satisfying their basest desires, was your stallion body. tall, thick, and fit.

"She's so pretty," Art blinked slowly, the two of them watching you from a distance in the library as you gathered with a group of friends, standing around a table and giggling softly.

"Her ass is so fat. I've never seen anything like that shit before," Patrick murmured, his eyebrows furrowed as if he were concerned— really he was just incredulous.

A beat as Art swallowed hard, clenching his jaw. Ignoring the way his pants grew tighter. Patrick doing the same.

"Yeah," he exhaled after a moment of silence and low-eyed ogling from the two of them.

It was weeks of that — just gawking at you and getting themselves worked up thinking about you. At that point, there was more sexual tension between Art and Patrick than either of the two lusting boys had managed to work up with you. Tashi found their fantasizing aggravating and berated them for not just going up to you and talking to you — secretly, Art and Patrick praised the fact that Tashi has a girlfriend, otherwise she'd be competition too.

Art practically fainted when he saw you in the hallway talking to Patrick— Patrick leaning against the wall with his hand just above his head, towering over you with the confidence of a sly dog. He could just make out the murmurs of your conversation, the warm ringing of your laugh, Patrick's flirtatious chuckling overlapping just a few seconds later. He was laying it on thick, and Art felt like he might go into cardiac arrest with how angry he was.

Art strode up to the two of you with determination, slowing down once he gets closer so he doesn't come off as defensive as he felt. He gave Patrick an icy, tight-lipped grin that made Patrick smirk ever-so-slightly, his eyes wandering to some spot just above Art's head.

"Pat," Art bleated. He turned to you, his eyes softening along with his brain and everything else in his body except his dick. He smiled gently, locking eyes with you. "YN. It's nice to see you. I'm Art, by the way."

You shook your head and chuckled, one of your braids drifting over your shoulder. You pushed it back, and Art and Patrick went numb at the simple maneuver. You bit down softly on your bottom lip, grinning bemusedly,

"I know who you are. We did like two chem projects together, don't you remember?"

"Yeah, remember?" Patrick echoed, glancing over smugly at Art, who was too enamored by you to side-eye Patrick in return.

"Yeah. Yeah of course I remember. You were the backbone of our projects," Art trailed off into a genuine laugh, one full of appreciation.

"Well, I am pre-med, so," a slight laugh bubbled up in your throat and it was so attractive and confident, Art couldn't help but grin at you dazedly.

"Smart girl," Patrick inserted himself, catching your eye as soon as you turned your head to him again.

You didn't miss the way he held eye contact, the way he was so comfortable giving you a name to hold on to, like it was something he was used to doing with you. There's some sort of intimacy to a nickname like that, suggesting something provocative yet impossible to name. You're well aware of the fact that they're both attracted to you — you couldn't possibly miss them staring at you even when you knew they thought they were being discreet.

Seeing them now, up close and personal, finally actually talking to you instead of checking you out and avoiding eye contact, you saw their strategies, their archetypes. Art, the charming and unassuming rabbit — assumed timid by most but smart and eventually crafty — and Patrick, the rakish, bold fox, unabashed in his cunning and willing to show out. Both types that you'd seen before, but not quite in this form. And both intrigued you deeply. You, the snake. Letting them have their glory in this game now, but plotting just how you would leer over them soon enough, evaluating your prey.

"Gotta be. I only get one chance," you replied to Patrick's comment.

You could tell he was used to having girls stuck, and you weren't that type. But with you, their eagerness and need to prove themselves was strong right away.

You could tell they were trying to figure out what to say. You figured they were used to girls giggling and blushing over them. Maybe they expected a thank you, complete with hair twirling and bashfulness, like you didn't already know you were smart, fine, and everything in between.

"Mkay," you hummed, smiling precociously up at them. "I'm gonna hit the library, got a bio exam next week. I'll see you both later?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you'll see us," Art assured you immediately, on top of Patrick drawling,

"We'll be on the lookout."

You chuckled, giving them one last look over your lashes before you turned around. You could feel their eyes on you as they left, tracking all the way down to your hips which swayed as you walked.

They watched you like that all the way out the double doors, in a trance. When the door finally closed, Art swiveled on his feet and jabbed Patrick in the shoulder, walking off dramatically. Patrick caught up to him quickly.

"What the fuck? What's that for?" he whined.

"What the hell man, you can't just talk to her," Art frowned.

Patrick paused, staring at Art like he was a middle schooler,

"I just did. Besides, it's not like you were talking to her anyway, I did us both a favor."

Art knew he was being petulant but he couldn't himself — he didn't mind admiring you with Patrick, but sharing you was a whole 'nother thing. He wasn't ready to admit that the thought turned him on, and the attraction was still fresh enough that he was possessive. Maybe the doors would open once he knew he could get you.

"Yeah, well I was gonna."

"Ha!" Patrick barked out a cold laugh. "Like that'd get you anywhere."

"Fuck does that mean?" Art scoffed, glaring at his best friend and lamenting the luscious mop of overgrown dark curls brushing against his forehead.

Patrick tapped the underbrim of Art's red hat, which Art quickly readjusted,

"Look at you. You're dressed like a skinny white cuck. You don't even know what to do with all that." Patrick was growing more and more defensive and loud by the minute. He shook his head and glared off into the distance like he was thinking of just how he'd handle "all that," then continued. "She wants a big dog."

Art actually laughed — he genuinely doubled over laughing, and Patrick marched along while Art was cackling a few feet behind. He caught up to Patrick, red in the face,

"And you're a big dog? You're a rich white Jew from Rochester, New York."

Patrick smirked, like he knew something Art didn't — but when does he not know everything before Art has even gotten a hint? Or at least, he pretends to know everything. Art wasn't sure if it was too late to come out from under Patrick's wing, it's all he knew.

"Exactly," Patrick responded quietly.

Art, miffed but trying not to show it, switched the trajectory of the conversation and shook his head. He offered the first reality check ever since this little crush had formed,

"Don't sound too sure of yourself. I don't think either of us are her type."

"C'mon Art, don't be racist. You think she only likes black guys?"

Art was ruffled— he retorted,

"I didn't say that!"

"Whatever, I got her Myspace. I'll give it to you so you can stalk her but don't actually follow her like a creep. You're welcome, dumbass. You can thank me for bringing you a step forward from jerking your tiny little dick while you think of her alone in your dorm room."

How the fuck did he get her Myspace?

| | |

Patrick was back again by next week, fooling around on the computer while Art laid back on his bed and bounced a tennis ball against the ceiling.

"Oh shit," Patrick muttered to himself, a toothpick wiggling in the corner of his mouth. Art perked up, sitting up on his elbows.

"What?"

"Come look," Patrick waved Art over.

On the computer screen was your Myspace, which you just updated few minutes ago.

[ YN ] Can't wait to hit up Nebula later tonight!

"What's Nebula?" Art asked, his voice quiet and curious as he squinted at the glowing screen.

Patrick wordlessly pulled up another tab and typed up Nebula. It was a club a few miles north of campus. It had no description but a bunch of pictures. It was different from what they were used to — frat parties consisting of fist bumping and neon necklaces, a sea of white crashed against the floor and someone shotgunning a can of Budweiser. Instead, they're looking at photos of a nightclub with flashy lights and graffiti decor, and not a single hint of white — at least, not in any of the pictures. But it looks busy, and as far as they can tell, it actually looks fun.

Patrick and Art scanned the page of images meticulously, it was like their brains were reconfiguring. After some time, they both speak at once:

"Should we go?"

"We're fucking going."

The boys spent the next few hours getting ready. Or at least, Art did. Patrick didn't have a change of clothes, so he was going as he was — untucked Ralph polo, khaki shorts and all. Art on the other hand, showered and rotated through multiple outfits. By his third shirt, Patrick was fatigued,

"What are you doing?"

Art held up a white t-shirt to the mirror and angled it against his body,

"I don't wanna show up looking like an asshole. Look at you, what are you wearing?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," Patrick griped, though he did a double take at himself behind Art in the mirror.

"Did you not see how everyone was dressed in the pictures? We're gonna look like idiots if we show up like a bunch of tennis douchebags," Art retorted, finally deciding on a white shirt and ripped blue jeans.

"We are tennis douchebags," Patrick said to himself. "Got a pair of black jeans I can wear?"

Art smirked wordlessly, throwing a pair over to Patrick.

The club is packed, to say the least. But it's huge. The bouncer took a long, hard look at the two boys before graciously deciding to let them in. They did look painfully out of place — the club seemed not to have a white person in sight for miles. They were tokens here, not oblivious to the curious looks and outright glares. Chingy's Right Thurr was blasting from the club speakers, booming over the sound of Air Force 1s and chunky heels scuffling across the floor. Art and Patrick stood in the front, taking in the view of the dance floor like a pair of birds overlooking the sea from the shore.

"What if she's not even here?" Art muttered.

"She's here dude, trust me. No way she's staying in on a Friday night after exams and this is clearly the place to go," Patrick shouted over the music. The two silently scanned over the crowd, desperate to pick her out in a sea of people. Then, Patrick laid eyes on her. He jabbed Art's side, who immediately snapped his vision to focus on you, so far away on the dance floor, unaware of their presence.

You were in a tight-fitting short pink dress that hugged every inch of your body — it seemed like it was made for you. Your tits sat pretty and your ass jiggled with even the slightest move. Your brown skin glinted under the flashing lights, and reflections shimmered off of your golden bracelets. You were with a group of friends, laughing and rolling your body to the beat, hips swaying with the motion of water. Patrick and Art were absolutely stuck, staring at you with dry mouths.

"Fuck," Art mouthed, and Patrick found his lips pulled beneath his teeth.

You didn't have a care in the world. You weren't drunk, but you had a few drinks in you and the bass was thudding against your eardrums just right. And you knew you looked good. Everything felt right — but the last thing you expected to see when you turned your head was two white boys, especially not two white boys who you knew. They seemed to realize that they were caught once you made eye contact with them, squinting at first in confusion.

Then, you saw it, the lustful look in both of their eyes. Patrick was unabashedly checking you out — you were sure he was doing it before, but now it was like he wanted you to know. And Art had this look in his eyes, so deep and watchful that you could tell he was simply drinking you in. Arms tucked over his chest, his tongue swiping slowly over his lip.

You giggled, returning their gazes with a subtly flirtatious cock of your head, and a bemused grin. Patrick smiled and nodded, and Art cocked his head in unison with you. Like he was playing. And you liked this game. You turned to your friends for just a moment and quickly excused yourself, then turned back to face the two boys, glancing towards the bar.

You didn't wait for them, just started slowly sauntering over, knowing they would follow you.

Once you broke their gaze, they turned to each other, smirking. On the one hand, they knew they had an in. But they were challenging each other too, with a competitive spark in their eyes that said, "you wish."

They rushed over to the bar, practically skidding across the bar and even bumping into each other. They got there just seconds before you did, still catching their breaths by the time you got close enough. Before you could even open your mouth, both of them were panting. In unison, they spouted,

"Hey—"

"Hi."

"Can I buy you a drink?"

They glared at each other, and you laughed, shaking your head. They were practically brothers, the way they were so in sync with each other and seemed to bounce off of one another. It was fun analyzing their characters, and even more fun because they were trust fund babies without a care in the world, and you couldn't be any more different. But one thing was for certain — you could get anything from them.

"That's y'all's favorite question, isn't it?" you grinned up at them slowly, batting your lashes.

They both laughed weakly, not used to being called out so bluntly. They were so set on having you, but now that you were in front of them, it was clear you made the rules. The way you assessed them both silently, letting your eyes observe the both of them from head to toe, slowly but surely, they had no choice but to stand at your feet.

"How about this," you started, and they perked up like dogs, hanging on to your every word. "Whoever guesses my drink of choice can buy me a drink."

"Sex on the beach," Patrick blurted, mainly because he was thinking about sex.

"Vodka cran?" Art offered hesitantly.

You squint at them, shaking your head.

"Cognac, neat."

Patrick snorted, and you looked over at him with a curious grin. He explained himself,

"Sorry, it's just... that's dark liquor."

"Duh. I don't waste my money on watered down cocktails." A pause. "So...?"

They fought to get drinks, but ultimately, Art was the one who flagged the bartender down first. You told them that you should talk somewhere a bit more quiet, and led them to a couch beneath the stairs, where the music was slightly muffled. You knew that their eyes were on you as you were walking, you could tell by the way they went silent while behind you.

You sat between them on the couch, one leg over the other. Both their mouths went dry over the sight of your thigh pooling and expanding as you placed it on top of your other one. Your brown skin contrasted deliciously with the pink fabric of your dress.

You sipped your drink and leaned back just a bit against the couch. Basking in their intent eye contact.

"So," you smirked.

"So..." Patrick grinned at you, unafraid to show all his teeth.

You glance between the two of them,

"It's your first time here, isn't it?"

"Whaaat?" Patrick feigned offense, shaking his head and waving his hand. He sips his drink, leaning back just a bit to align his body more with yours. "Psshh, no, we come here all the time."

"Really?" you challenged him, and he just nodded silently with that fucking smirk on his face, his eyes boring into yours with an impish sparkle. "'Cuz I come here all the time, and I haven't seen you two before. Like, ever."

"Guess you weren't looking for us hard enough," in comes Art, quiet as ever but still so strikingly present — it's impossible to forget him, the way he sneaks up on you every time with some suggestive comment or smart remark.

You turned your head towards him now, your smile growing bigger by the minute, thoroughly enthralled by this delicious dialogue.

"Oh, I should be looking for you two?'' you raised your chin up, humored.

"Nah, but I mean... you might find something you like," Patrick replied, coolly as ever, never looking away from you even when you weren't looking at him. It was how you found yourself face to face with him when you turned your head away from Art.

"Yeah? And what's that?" you mastered your most innocent voice possible, rubbing your glossy lips together. Patrick's eyes lowered down to your lips, and he let them stay there for a while before he spoke again,

"You gonna let us find out what you like?"

No smirk this time, accompanied by unshaken eye contact. It got your heart jumping, but you played it cool, chuckling and sipping your drink,

"Y'all play too much."

"Who says we're playing?" Art interjected then, and you're met with a charming, slow-appearing smile.

“Messy. You usually have the same taste in girls?"

"I mean, yeah, we do," the boys glanced at each other and nodded good-naturedly as if assessing the question together before providing you with an answer. "But you're just... better," Art replied, and Patrick nodded.

"Better? Better how?"

"I mean... you're incredibly sexy," Patrick said as if it were self-explanatory.

"Yeah? Tell me more," you bared your teeth in a slick-mouthed smile, leaning your chin on your hand and blinking softly up at Patrick. You turned your head slowly when Art spoke.

"Your lips. They look soft," he licked his lips when you looked at him. It was like he was a completely different entity now, shrouded by the thick cloud of desire he had for you. His voice had dropped an octave lower and his lids seemed heavier. He took a sip of Cognac and leaned back just a tad.

"Got a pretty voice," you turned this time to Patrick, whose lips were turning up in a slow smile, his teeth glinting in the dark club.

"Beautiful eyes," now Art — you knew you had them right around your finger but they were proving to be more than you'd bargained for — you wondered how often they moved like this to a girl, together.

"Your body's absolutely insane," Patrick divulged.

"Personality takes the cake, too," Art chimes in.

By the time they'd finished, it felt like they were inches closer to you, encasing you in their body heat. And they had inched closer to you, the both of them cocking their head in your direction, studying your face. It all felt so practiced, yet natural. They knew just what they were doing, and that's why you didn't move a muscle. But you'd be lying if you said it didn't have an effect on you.

You didn't reply, you just sat back and slowly swallowed down the rest of your drink. All eyes were on you, the boys both leaning back against the couch and just admiring you. You set the glass down on the table in front of you and got up to stand, wiggling your dress down to readjust it.

"Let's dance."

That's how you found yourself sandwiched between Art and Patrick while a song by Miguel played. Your breaths, hot and smelling of liquor, floated against each other, bodies pressed into yours. Patrick was behind you with his hands on your waist, towering over you and looking down at you in awe. He kept it respectful, but you could feel him against your ass, poking through his ripped black jeans. Art was in front of you, your arms around his neck, just inches of space between all of you. The club was dark bar for a strobe light rotating across your faces periodically, so you could hardly see the desire in their eyes, but you could feel it. You swayed your hips to the rhythm of the song and let your head fall back against Patrick's shoulder, swaying your whole body now. Art was pressed into you, his face dipping into your neck. He nearly whimpered— you smelled like caramelized vanilla and a hint of coconut oil. He imagined you lathering your damp body in creams and oils after getting out of the shower, and had to fight an erection from forming directly against you. Meanwhile, Patrick was already half-hard.

All they felt was bliss — Patrick had more of a sense of certainty that the night would end up somewhat like this, but Art doubted they'd even be able to find you. You could sense the way they held back, waiting for you to shut it down or take it an inch further. You paused when you felt your cellphone vibrate in your purse. You pulled away gracefully from Art and Patrick, who stood there dumbly waiting for you to pull them back in. You grinned when you read the text from your friends, who knew of your whereabouts, telling you to pull up to Alicia's apartment for afters, and "bring your little white boys."

You let the boys usher you out of the club, Art with his hand on your waist trailing behind you, and Patrick taking your hand as he pushed through the crowd and out the door.

"You smell amazing," Art mentioned the minute the fresh air hit you, re-surging the scent that drove him near ballistic in the club.

You giggled at Art's sudden outburst, and the genuine admiration in his tone,

"Thank you, babe. Now, are y'all good to drive?"

| | |

Alicia's apartment was huge — her dad paid for everything, to say the least. The moment you walked in, Alicia, Nessa and Tiana crowded around you, squealing and ooh-ing and aah-ing over Patrick and Art.

"This your lil shit right here? Go head, then YN," Tiana stuck her tongue out raucously and you shook your head, laughing.

Before you knew it, you were pouring shots of Hennessy down each other's throats, playing a vicious game of Uno, and blasting Me & U by Cassie. Art and Patrick had some settling in to do at first, since they weren't used to being around mostly black girls — the most fun they knew how to have at parties was fist-bumping to dubstep. But they fit right in, and your friends had no trouble making them feel welcome. As the night went on, you lost some of that mysterious enigma, but it didn't make them want you any less.

Art nearly melted beneath you when you stood up above him and poured Ciroc down his throat, holding his chin up with your fresh French tips. Patrick was next, putting on a brave face, unwavering against the screeches and pointing from your friends. He made sure to keep eye contact with you, swallowing boisterously with an "ahh!" sound, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You grinned and took a swig yourself, then ran to your friends to dance with them, swaying your hips and shaking your ass in a way they hadn't seen just yet. It was like they weren't even there, it was just about you and your friends now.

"Fuck, man," Patrick blinked slow, standing beside Art just feet away from you.

Art ran his hands through his hair, in disbelief at the way your ass moved in your dress,

"I'm gonna be honest, Pat. I don't think either of us could handle that."

For the first time, Patrick nodded, wordlessly agreeing.

It didn't take long for your friends to disperse about the apartment, most of them heading out to the balcony to smoke. You decided to stay behind inside ("For your guests, right?" Nessa had snickered, smirking over at Art and Patrick).

"Are you bored to death yet? You're the only two dudes here," you sauntered over to the two boys, who were leaning against the kitchen counter. All three of you were just a bit more than tipsy, eyes bleared over and heat fanned against your cheeks, drifting about in that pleasantly warm dreamscape.

"Bored? You just baby birded both of us with Ciroc," Art guffawed, and you cocked your head to the side, looking up at him with those low, drunk eyes,

"Yeah, you want more?"

"I want whatever you have to give me," Art replied with quickness, simply entranced by your eyes and that sweet voice. You chuckled, shaking your head.

A smattering of shrieking sounded from outside on the balcony. You scoffed, swiping a joint that Alicia had rolled from off the kitchen table. You started walking down the hall, back faced to them as you said,

"They're so loud. Let's go somewhere quieter."

Art and Patrick both gave each other a glance— they weren't sure if the night would ever actually come to this, but still they didn't quite know what to expect. All they knew was that whether or not either of them could "pull" you, you were the one in charge. Your hips swung more freely from side to side as you walked loosened by the Henny and Ciroc concoctions of the night. Art and Patrick's eyes were like pendulums following your hips.

You turned into the guest bedroom, plopping down onto the bed.

"Close the door," you gestured to Art. Heart pounding, he closed it behind him.

Art and Patrick stood stupidly in front of you. You shook your head at them, laughing quietly,

"Are y'all gonna sit?"

They might as well have tripped over themselves zooming to sit next to you on the bed, one on either side of you. You had the whole world in your hands. It was silent bar for the muffled R&B music from outside. For boys who were so flirtatious, they were awfully quiet now. You shifted to place your legs underneath you, sitting on your knees, your dress riding up your thighs just so. If they looked behind you, they'd see your ass poking out a bit too.

"So. Who's idea was it, hmm?" you hummed. "I mean, you must've wanted to come find me. I'm impressed."

You lit the joint, pressing it to your lips.

"Saw your Myspace post. Thought we'd keep you company," Patrick admitted, coolly as ever, though you saw the bulge forming in his jeans, saw the way his eyes drifted down to your lips around the joint.

You tossed your head back to exhale, giggling up at the ceiling and covering your mouth with your hand.

"You thought you'd keep me company. Y'all are too good."

You passed the joint over to Art, who took a drag and exhaled while keeping it perched in the corner of his mouth, voice half-muffled as he continued,

"We just wanted to make sure you weren't lonely, that's all."

"Yeah," Patrick took the joint from Art, doing the same. "Since you don't have a boyfriend or anything."

This time, Patrick lifted the joint up to your lips for you. You leaned into it, slowly wrapping your lips around it and sucking for just a second longer than you usually would, never breaking eye contact while Patrick's smirk grew wider and wider with each passing second. You blew the smoke out and it fanned against his face.

"And how would you two know if I don't have a boyfriend?"

Art sniffed, humored, as you passed the joint to him. It was starting to hit now — a haze rose up just so slightly in the air. You relaxed into it, feeling emboldened.

"Don't think we'd be here if you did," Art shot back.

You snaked forward, taking the joint from Art's lips and putting it to your own. He let out a sharp breath at the casual dominance such an action exuded. Your face was just inches away from his— you didn't know if it was the weed, or how turned on you were after exercising the utmost self-control for the better part of the night, but you noticed that his eyes had such a gleaming strike of blue in them.

"Think you got me, is that it?" you questioned, so close to Art that if you inched any further, your nose would brush against his. He swallowed, unsure of whether he should be turned on or scared, but either way, his pants were getting tighter. Your voice was so tantalizingly quiet as if you were sharing a secret just for him and Patrick. You huffed out a humored breath. "I'm not gonna fuck you, you know."

The way you were looking at him begged to differ. You felt the strap of your dress slide down ever so gently over your left shoulder. Before you could push it up, Patrick's hand, strong and firm, was grazing against your shoulder, pushing your dress strap up. You let your gaze on Art linger for just a moment longer before you turned to Patrick, smirking. You handed him the joint, which had gone out. He placed it on the bed beside him. You were leaning in, an unmistakably seductive twinkle in your eyes as you got even closer to Patrick, murmuring under your breath,

"'M not gonna fuck you either."

“Not gonna fuck me?” Patrick smirked, looking from your hazey eyes to your lips. You pressed your lips into his, letting your eyes flutter closed as you hummed your response into his mouth,

“Mm-mm.”

A slight breath escaped Patrick, keeping his mouth open so you could slip your tongue against his. Patrick kissed you hard and slow, his hands immediately wrapping around your back as you lifted your leg over his lap and straddled him. You could feel how much he’d been wanting this by the way his tongue curved effortlessly against yours and his grip on your hips got stronger. He kissed the way he talked. Rough and hard, but with effortless ease, like he knew exactly what you liked. Maybe it was his confidence that made the kiss so good, his lips locked in perfectly with yours. You reached behind, pulling Art in as you simultaneously pushed Patrick down so his back was against the mattress. 

You pulled away from Patrick and in one fluid motion turned your head to kiss him, letting your hand wrap against his neck and run up through his hair. Patrick, who was watching from the pillow, groaned and let his head fall against the pillow. Art kissed you needily, but gentler than Patrick. He kissed you like he was parched and your lips were a fountain of water found in a barren land— like he needed to explore more. As you kissed Art, you felt Patrick’s hands kneading your ass, and you moaned — which made them both moan. It took everything in Patrick not to just lift your dress over your ass. But you must have been reading his mind because you wiggled your dress over your ass so it was finally exposed. 

“That’s it,” Patrick groaned in approval, his hands finding new purchase against your bare skin, squeezing your ass with a tender grip.

Your kiss with Art grew sloppier, spit threatening to spill out from the side of your mouth as Art pressed himself against you. You let your hand wander down to his black jeans and gripped the hard bulge that was poking out, running your hand up and down it. Patrick, not one to be left behind, took the liberty of lifting your dress a little higher so he could see the black, lacy panties you wore. He let out a low whistle, his firm on your hips grew firmer, keeping them in place as he ground his up into you, rolling up directly against your clit through your underwear. You gasped when you felt how big Patrick was, pulling away from Art to look down at the sight of Patrick’s hips snapping slowly into you. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head gently to the side so Art could press his lips against your neck. 

Patrick chuckled, but he was unable to hold back the groan that lodged in his throat. He could feel your clit pulsing through your underwear. 

“Take it off, baby,” you gestured down to Art, who scrambled to take your dress off, throwing it carelessly to the side once it was over your head. Both the boys nearly busted on the spot, because instead of being greeted with a black, lacy bra, your tits simply tumbled out of your dress, perfectly plump and brown and sitting pretty. 

“Oh my god,” Patrick groaned at the sight of your tits above him. He sat up immediately, attaching his mouth immediately to your tits. Art, a whimpering mess by this point, followed quickly, his lips wrapping around your stiff, brown nipple. They both sucked on your tits lasciviously, reserving one for each of them. The lewd sounds of their tongues sucking your plush skin as their hands fondled and squeezed you filled the room. Art was gentle, shifting from reaching a hand underneath your tit and cupping you softly to circling a gentle finger around your nipple. Patrick was more direct, grabbing you with closed hands. 

If you weren’t so turned on, you would honestly giggle at the sight— these two boys who’d been fiending for you for so long, showing you just how long they’d been waiting for this very thing. It was a wonder — the school’s prestigious tennis players who attended every frat party and had enough money to be set for life (Patrick at least), reduced to a melting puddle beneath you. At your beck and call, your mercy, even as the grind of Patrick’s dick against your clit made you soak through the panties. 

You looked down at them with a cunning smile playing on your lips, cupping both their chins softly,

“You’ve been wanting this real bad, haven’t you?”

Two pairs of needy, blissed-out eyes looked up at you immediately, their heads nodding insistently as they moaned around your nipples. You chuckled, your laugh ringing like bells in their ears. You tasted so divine and they hadn’t even tasted you where it really counts. Art decides he wants to get a head start. You felt his hand, his fingers long and spindly, travel down your body, past your soft stomach and down your thigh, until it looped back up to the waistband of your panties. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, pulling at the stretchy fabric until he let it snap against your waist. 

He pulled away, his lips warm and wet against your ear as he whispered,

“Can I?” 

You bit down on your lip and nodded, gazing at him as he let his hand travel back down until it crept into your panties, never breaking eye contact even as he dipped two fingers against your soaked slit. You trembled at his touch and he smirked, cocking his head gently as he brought his fingers to his lips, tasting you on his fingers.

“She tastes so good, Pat, you gotta try,” Art said, leaning down — Patrick, dazed, lifted his head and looked up at Art with glazed-over eyes.

You watched, rendered speechless for the first time that night as Art dipped his fingers back just slightly against you again, and placed them at Patrick’s wanting lips. Patrick sucked the taste of you off Art’s fingers like it was nothing, like he’d done it before and would do it a thousand times more. The sight of him, lifting his head up to meet Art’s fingers, made you stir above him. 

“Fuck, she’s perfect,” Patrick practically moaned, his lips hovering at Art’s fingers. He wasn’t even looking at you, still holding Art’s gaze as he dipped his hand into your panties and prodded at your slit, the pad of his finger tapping against all the arousal that’s gathered there, making wet sounds like fat raindrops collecting in a puddle. “She’s so wet already, shit.” He held Art’s gaze for a moment longer before he turned to you. 

“Can we taste you?” Art asked, his voice soft and lilted. 

You lifted yourself off of Patrick’s lap and kneeled between the two of them, taking their shirts off one by one. Art went to take off his cap, You embraced Art in a kiss first, then Patrick, until it was lost on you which was which— it was all a blur, mouths sloppily entangled and meeting in the middle, kissing each other all at once and you were certain Art and Patrick’s lips met more than a few times. Somewhere in the middle, they had pushed you back against the mattress. You whined as their lips suctioned against your body, down down down until they stopped between your thighs.

You couldn’t see whose lips were on you first, but you were sure it was Patrick, the way he dove right in without hesitation and started sucking expertly at your clit. You cried out, your back arching slightly off the bed at the sudden jolt of pleasure from the contact. You saw Patrick’s tuft of black curls right in between your thighs, and Art’s golden-orange locks just beside him, placing chaste kisses on your inner thighs, his hand massaging the plush skin there too. 

Patrick moaned from in between your legs, sending vibrations through your core and up your chest. You relaxed into his touch, pushing his head in and burying your fingers in his curls. He made sure to drag his tongue along every inch of you, pointing it into your slit and thrusting it into you, and flattening his whole tongue against you as he gave kitten licks to your pussy.

His grecian nose poked deliciously against your clit and he used it to his advantage, bobbing his head up and down each time you moaned at the point of contact. He sucked your clit gently with his lips, toyed at your slit with his finger and glanced up at you to gauge your reaction. The moan that fell from your lips as you locked eyes with him from between your legs was almost pornographic, and enough for him to slide one thick finger inside of you. 

You were writhing above him and Art, moaning ever so softly. Your tits were splayed perfectly against your chest and your face was constantly contorted in the sweetest expressions. They’d both imagined you like this, mouth open and eyes rolling back into your head, trapped in bliss. Then another finger, fucking into you deep and slow as he continued lapping up all your arousal, all while Art kissed your thighs with increasing hunger, his once soft kisses becoming wet and crazed. 

“Fuck,” Patrick pulled away, his mouth and chin glistening wet with spit and your arousal. “Art, taste her pussy. Want you to feel what I did to her.”

Art whimpered and assumed position immediately. 

“Wait,” you said, shifting and turning yourself around so you were on your knees, your pussy pulsing right in front of Art’s face while Patrick pulled down his shorts and boxers, wrapping a hand around his shaft and starting to tug slowly, groaning under his breath. Meanwhile, Art’s eyebrows rose up so far he thought they’d get stuck there, his mouth dropping slightly at the sight of your pussy throbbing around nothing, your folds dripping with a mixture of your own arousal and Patrick’s spit. 

You placed your head on the pillow, craning your neck to look back at the two boys. You liked the juxtaposition that was happening — the two of them in full control of your pleasure, while you were granting them the only thing they’d been thinking of for weeks now.

“Oh fuck,” Art whispered to himself, and Patrick chuckled darkly, squeezing the base of his cock. 

You wouldn’t admit it, but their faces in this moment were seared in your mind permanently – Art’s gaze of pure amazement, and Patrick’s wicked smirk snaking across his entire face, glaring down at your pussy. It was enough to make a shiver run down your spine, how readily they consumed you — the feeling of being wanted wasn’t new to you, but with them, it was just… different.  

“Her pussy looks so pretty after it’s been ate, doesn’t it?” Patrick noted to Art, who nodded with a broken whimper before shoving his face into your pussy, his button nose dancing against your clit as he put his tongue to work. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, your head dropping down against the pillow. Art might have been gentler, but that did not mean worse by any means.

If anything, he was passionate, noting every slight movement and sound you made and following in your stead. His tongue lappd against your clit, pleasure climbing up your spine. The new angle had you struggling to keep your legs up, but Patrick was sure to keep you in check.

“This is what you wanted right?” he proclaimed, one hand on your thigh to hold you steady, the other still stroking his cock, a bit faster now. A guttural moan surged from your throat as you nodded weakly. “Yeah? So take it. Take Art’s tongue in your pussy, fuck.”

Patrick looked down, his mouth hanging open as he watched the way Art slurped away. He detached his lips only to slide a finger in, kissing you gently as he fucked his finger into you, slow and deep and relishing the way you stretched over his finger. 

“So fucking warm,” he muttered, talking to your pussy like you and him were the only two in the room. He slipped another finger inside you, which made you cry out, pussy throbbing around his fingers. “There you go, squeeze my fingers.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, delirious. Art was rutting against the bed now, chasing his high along with you, and Patrick’s hand was working overtime on his cock, spreaidng the precum leaking from his tip along the shaft. His hand reached up to smack your ass, groaning at the way it reveberated beneath his touch. 

“You’re so fucking hot, oh my god.”

Inadvertently, you started to catch the rhythm of Art’s fingers, throwing your hips back against his fingers and his face. The sight of your ass practically covering Art’s face was almost too much for Patrick to handle — he actually glanced away for a second, hoping he could hold off on his swift-approaching orgasm. 

“Yeah, fuck back onto my face, I want you to use me,” Art moaned, muffled by your thighs wrapped around his head. 

You weren’t sure when it all happened, you just knew that you were moaning both their names as you’re sent over the edge, Patrick and Art deftly following — Patrick in his hands, Art in his jeans, hips stuttering against the bed. You squeezed around Art's fingers as you dripped down onto the bed, soaking Art's tongue and chin. It took a while for all of you to gain some semblance of reality, pushing past the haze of pleasure and smoke and bitter alcohol that you were floating in. 

“Did you come in your jeans?” Patrick’s voice cut through the foggy silence, and Art slapped his chest. 

“Shut up, look what you did to the sheets.”

You were lying on your back, gazing up at the two boys with a sated grin, resting your hands on your stomach. 

“Aren’t you glad we found you?” Patrick teased. 

You didn’t have to answer, he already knew.

i think i’m gonna have a part two for this you guys have no idea how much i was debating whether or not they should fuck in this but i feel like reader is the type to make them wait…  plus it would've actually been a novel if i added that and i wanted to get this out cuz i don't wanna keep y'all waiting!! so when they fuck they'll fuck NYASTY.

[thegnomelord]

With all these M!reader courting (and practically rizzing up everyone) in their own hybrid way, imagine poor Ghost, he's like toothless, doesn't know how tf to court someone of say, even his own species because he was once human

And with that rant about all the absurd ways of courting, what would he call as his own?

Would he give gifts like Gaz and Price? A piece to remember them by?

I doubt he'd be the physical type like cuddly ol soap who loves to scent,

He's practically a shadow (literally and figuratively) and I feel like the best he can do is stare and slowly blink like a cat (and let's be honest most of the time we don't see his eye) so he might even just act like a stalker and watch from afar, not much of a scent even on him if he's near, even when in the midst of battle

So what can he do then? I feel like going to Price is his best bet and when he tries to scent something like Soap it smells like nothing

I feel like he'd beat himself up on it

(Also fucking love your courting works, I've been eating that shit up its become a hyperfixation)

- ☕️ Anon

I reckon that staring would be less of a wraith thing and more of a Simon thing. Because like, wraiths don't reproduce, they're made not born. So poor Simon just has to try to use the knowledge he had before he died.

CW:NSFW subbot ghost, topdom reader, rough and quick

He likes you.

Just like he's a Riley, just like the sky is blue, his affection for you is one of the few truths of the world he doesn't question. Only problem — he doesn't know how to tell you. You're not human and neither is he, not anymore, but he's woefully unprepared when it comes to you, doesn't know if he's supposed to go about it as a wraith or as a man.

He tries; Simon's phone is full of open tabs containing every piece of information about your species, trying to find grains of truth in the contradicting mess of words. He's memorized how you like your morning coffee down to the last flake of sugar, watching your face carefully when you trudge to the communal kitchen to find your mug steaming and everything laid out near it. He knows your schedule inside out, always a few minutes earlier in the gym when you come in, offering to spot you, his dark eyes roaming over your sweat covered skin. His gaze is always flickering to you, regardless of what you're doing or where you are — watching, guarding, making sure the world doesn't take away that spark like it did with Simon Riley.

But you fail to notice it, him. Or maybe you do but don't care. Don't see him as anything but your teammate, like you should, like he should. God, what is he even doing trying to fucking woo you like some lovestruck Victorian gent. . .

Simon feels like banging his head against the wall.

Maybe then something in his imperceptibly rotten skull will come loose, tumble around in what's left of his brain like a snowball rolling down a hill to form an avalanche, or at least a vestige of a good thought; an idea, something he could use to get out of this rut.

He doesn't go to Price for advice. The old dragon finds him, knows him long enough to figure out when Simon's up to his throat in shite. Price sits down next to him as they watch you and Gaz spar, "Alright, spit it out." Price hums as he lights his cigar.

Simon's lips form a thin line beneath his mask, his fingers gripping the meat of his arm to keep his form stable. His eyes don't stray from you, cataloging every trail of sweat as it rolls down your skin, watching your muscles flex beneath your skin as you throw a punch, making a mental note to show you the mistakes you make in private and—

His shoulders fall, "'m fucked." The words escape him like he'd been punched in the gut.

Price gives him the side eye, looking him up and down. "Doesn't look like you enjoyed it."

"Hah." Simon says in a dry tone. "Always a comedian captain."

Price chuckles, wing spreading out to bump against his shoulder. "Jokes aside," he lets out a small puff of smoke, "You could just tell 'im."

Simon's eyes narrow, "What, not going to suggest I go find some obscure shite ta gift him?" If he could find some concrete information about your species courting habits he would have done so by now, would have happily torn up Heaven and Hell looking for whatever would make you look at him the same way Price looks at Kyle.

"No," Price rolls his eyes, standing up and stretching. "Just go talk to 'im you bloody muppet, going to creep him out if you keep staring like that." He nods his head towards you.

Simon's head is a dark sea of thoughts as he spars with you, tries to make it seem like nothing's wrong but you catch on quick; he's distracted, falling for moves he'd once chastised you for pulling, the edges of his form crackling like the static of a tv, shadowy smoke rising from his blackened arms as he throws a punch that goes wide.

He grunts as you knock him to the ground, your hands on his shoulders to pin him down. "You alright?" You ask, your brows furrowed. "You're not fighting like you usually do."

You can barely see his dark eyes narrow, his body still beneath yours. "I'm fine." He growls out, tries to ignore how the warmth of your body against his makes him feel, nibbling on his nerves like a craving for a drug he can't have.

"Uhuh," You hum, a little confused why he's letting you pin him down so long. "Come on Ghost, you're not getting soft on me are you?" With a huff you attempt to pull away, knowing you couldn't force words out of his mouth.

The sudden lack of your warmth is what forces his body to move before his mind does, shadows shooting out to grab you before congealing back into his arm, pulling you down so his lips can crash on yours.

You grunt into his mouth from the surprise, your eyes wide with surprise. Simon's frozen heart cracks just a bit when you don't respond, only to melt when you finally kiss him back. Your lips feel like heaven against his, Simon's eyes shutting and long tongue slipping into your mouth.

You choke a bit, pulling back to catch your breath, your eyes widening as Simon's long tongue slips back into his mouth. "Fucking hell Simon." You pant,

"Got a whole bag of tricks." Simon says, his throat dry. "I-" He begins to say, thoughts running on how to tell you he wants you but no words coming out, something clogging his throat like molasses.

"Yeah," You grin, the lights overhead casting a halo around your head. "I know." Tipping your head down you catch his lips again, your kiss deep and rough, Simon's teeth digging into your lip until it bleeds, your sharp fangs nipping his tongue, blood mixing in your mouths, arousal starting to course through your veins.

Simon's hands grope your ass, pulling your crotch down on his so your cocks can rub together. Simon greedily swallows your groan, his arms starting to fizzle, shadowy smoke wrapping around you to keep you close as his hand sneaks down to undo your belts, fishing out your cocks.

"Christ," You groan and pant into his mouth, grabbing hold of both of your cocks and rocking your hips into his, pleasure buzzing up your spine.

"Don't bring 'im in here." Simon growls and throws an arm around your neck, demanding your attention with a kiss, longue tongue pushing half way down your throat and hips bucking up to rub his cock against yours. "Just us here."

You moan against his lips and fuck, if that isn't the prettiest sound he's ever heard, his mind clouding over with pleasure and before either one of you knows it Simon's cumming, pulling you down with him, your combined cum painting both of your stomachs.

It takes a few moments for Simon to catch his breath, his pupils blows wide as he stares up at you. "Shite." He breathes out, boneless beneath you.

You grin, "You can say that again." and you lean down to kiss him again.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Hi! Big fan :) You're an environmental lecturer, right? I recently got into a debate with someone about rewilding in the UK, and the clash with farmers and agriculture. To me, this is a no-brainer - I absolutely do feel for farmers losing their livelihoods, and I think there needs to be a system to help them transition to something else, but also, the planet is dying. But you explain things well, so I wondered if you have thoughts? Particularly on the Welsh side of things. Thank you in advance!

Hah. I literally have a lecture on this. Or, well, a chunk of a lecture, anyway; so yes! I have thoughts. I'll use those notes, and stick a big reference at the end in case you want to read more

I'll talk about this specifically from the Welsh perspective, okay so:

The rewilding project in Wales is the Cambrian Wildwood, launched in 2004ish by a guy who bought an abandoned farm in the northern end of Mid Wales with the express intention of rewilding it. The aim is to convert some 7000 acres, and the initial mission statement said they'd reintroduce wolves and lynx. That's the project I'm going to talk about, because it's a great case study for how to spectacularly fuck something up (and eventually realise you've spectacularly fucked up, and do something about it.)

These are the Cambrian Mountains:

When looking at that, there are two competing viewpoints that are relevant here:

The Cambrians are ecologically depleted. Their biodiversity has crashed since the Second World War, when modern farming methods were introduced. Environmentally, there is a perception of emptiness and degradation.

The landscape is a glorious one that has been shaped by the human actions taken on it for generations, as we are a shepherding culture – culture and land are inextricably intertwined.

That's a big fundamental difference! Two people can look at that same photo, and see something diametrically opposed. But there's more lying on it, so you also need to understand the socio-political background.

Socio-Political Background

(I know! Headings! So professional)

A lot of rewilding – Cambrian Wildwood included – is taking place in areas where farming is declining for various political/socio-economic reasons, so this can be ENTIRELY FAIRLY seen as yet another threat. This goes hand in hand with rural migration and community decline, too.

In Wales, we’re mostly rural, and characterised by extensive upland livestock farming (sheep in particular). Most farms are small to medium family-run setups. ON TOP OF THAT, the vast majority of Welsh farmers are Welsh-speaking, and the right to operate a farm the ‘traditional’ way without UK government oversight is seen by Welsh Nationalists as an important post-colonial act.

Many of them didn’t even like the National Parks being set up, as they were seen as an English outsider imposition that ignored the working nature and cultural history of the land. Remember: the farmed uplands are often seen as a heartland of Welsh identity, and those have historically been intentionally destroyed by UK central government land management decisions (e.g. Tryweryn, Elan, Claerwen, etc)

“Over the past half century we have witnessed the arrival of countless environmental fundamentalists… seemingly oblivious to the fact that their new-found paradise is already occupied by people whose connection with the land is deep rooted, dates back thousands of years, and is embedded in their language and culture.” (Nick Fenwick [Farmers’ Union of Wales] 2013)

SO IT’S CULTURALLY DICEY

(And in my opinion an incredibly stupid idea to go and give it a primarily English name with a Welsh translation as an afterthought but that is Elanor’s Opinion and not Scientific Fact)

(But fr fr if you ever have to get involved in these sorts of projects you will go a long way if you have the basic respect of learning the Welsh names and pronouncing them right rather than lazily expecting everything to be in English sorry sorry I digress)

From the Cambrian Wildwood’s Mission Statement on their website, their objective is:

“To rewild or restore land to a wilder state to create a functioning ecosystem where natural processes dominate by carrying out habitat restoration, removing domestic livestock, and introducing missing native species as far as feasible.”

Can you see the controversial bit of the statement

Can you see the bit where they directly say they want to remove domestic livestock

Jesus Christ

Cultural Differences

AND THEN HERE'S THE BIGGER PROBLEM

‘Culture’ in Welsh is diwylliant – literally, a ‘lack of wildness’. There is no direct translation into Welsh for the term ‘rewilding’ – the closest you can get is anialwch or diffeithwch, which mean ‘wilderness’ in the sense of ‘desert’ or ‘wasteland’. So right off the bat, if you tell a Welsh-speaking farmer that you want to rewild the place, what they hear is "We want to make it dangerous and empty and degraded."

A related concept is cynefin - knowing one’s ‘patch’ and the feeling of belonging associated. The term has its roots as a description of the way grazing animals know their area of mountain land, but it is also used to describe how people come to form an intimate experiential knowledge of place - and specifically, a Welsh farmer's cultural attitude.

Basically, Welsh literature and oral traditions speak of a relationship with the land, not a separation and longing for an untouched wilderness. Farmers feel this especially keenly. Culturally, this is a big part of why they do it – they’re rooted to the land, and therefore to their identities.

“Interviewees conveyed this by referring to areas proposed for rewilding as being comprised of “a quilt of cynefinoedd: interwoven stories, the layered and collective place-making of families and individuals over-generations, co-constituted with the physical landscape” (Wynne-Jones, Holmes and Strouts, 2018)

So, to them, rewilding is erasing and disregarding these stories. To them, this is not just a land-use change, but the latest colonial attack. They've known the family who lived on that farm for generations - every birth, marriage, death, joy, triumph, loss, everything. You are saying that you are going to strip that family, all those stories, all those people out of that land, to be forgotten.

…

However. There is a counterpoint to this.

Many farmers taking this view have therefore identified themselves as the only “truly Welsh” people in the debate, accusing environmentalists as being outsiders. The problem with this being, most of the environmentalists involved with the project are also Welsh; so who the fuck are they to say who is or is not Truly Welsh? It's what we on the internet would recognise as gatekeeping, with a big side order of No True Scotsman fallacy.

Also this quote sums it up well:

“Sheep farming in this country goes back a few hundred years. I think if you go deep enough into our culture and ancestry, we have a really deep native relationship with wild forest areas and with the wild animals that are native to this country…I just don’t agree that sheep farming is really part of our traditional culture.” (WWLF Interview [15] 2016) (Wynne-Jones, Holmes and Strouts, 2018)

This is also a fair point. It is true that upland sheep farming, the way we now practice it, is only a few hundred years old, and at the current intensity only a few decades (since WW2).

On top of which, there has been plenty of exploration over the years of farmers as being a government-subsidised landed gentry, which I won't go into here, but it also contains some fair points.

In truth, all of it and none of it is true. It’s far more complex and nuanced than either side might want to believe.

Solutions So Far

This is an ongoing project and they're still learning and changing new things and stuff, but a big thing they did was get someone in to basically be a mediator and listen to both sides, because Jesus, those sides were not listening to each other.

But to date:

They actually worked with a first-language Welsh speaker (WHY DID THEY NOT DO THIS FIRST I'm sorry I'm fine). Originally the Welsh translation of the project was Tir Gwyllt – wild land. But given that Welsh connotations with gwyllt are something out of control or dangerous, Coetir Anian has been chosen – anian refers to a sense of natural order and creation, a sense of health and vitality. Similarly, ‘rewilding’ is being translated as ‘di-ddofi’ – ‘de-taming’. This acknowledges the labour and culture taken to tame it, and just suggests an avenue for discussing some relaxation of farming practice in appropriate locations rather than, you know, releasing packs of wolves directly into sheep pens

In online materials and in community engagement events where traditional storytellers and musicians have performed to celebrate the Wildwood, the trustees have drawn heavily from Welsh myth in the form of the Mabinogion. Enormous amounts of the Mab lovingly and respectfully feature wild woods and wild animals. The emphasis is therefore on how wilderness is also part of Welsh identity – and arguably a much older part, going back to the Celts. (This is clever, in my view, but something to approach with care - it's rarely a good idea to play the game of "What's the most Welsh". But so far it's been done sensitively)

Land purchased for the project has so far been wholly limited to that available in the public domain. The main site, Bwlch Corog, was empty and unfarmed for six years before purchase, which has been stressed in all media interviews and releases; this is important, because farmers do have a sense of "Productive land is being stolen by environmentalists".

Large predator reintroductions have largely been abandoned. Lynx and wolves are no longer on the agenda. It’s possible they’ll be included in the future, but it is acknowledged as currently impractical (both from clashes with farmers and lack of habitat).

Instead, they’ve supported smaller species reintroductions, such as the Vincent Wildlife Trust’s pine marten translocations, and some proposed red squirrel ones.

Bwlch Corog is to be managed as an experimental plot that farmers are encouraged to engage with.

Assessing the potential for new income streams (from improved tourism and educational activities) rather than just the ecological benefits – this has become central to the project, and the emphasis is on how this might benefit farming communities and keep them together. This has been huge, and has also been successful in rewilding schemes in Europe.

Tensions are a lot lower now than they were ten years ago, but ultimately the problem was a bunch of outsiders came in and decided they knew best without listening to anyone else's point of view, and that meant both sides really dug their heels in. Much better now.

Ultimately... yes, I am in favour of rewilding, in a general sense. But I think it needs to go hand in hand with supplying farmers with the necessary subsidies to transition back to more traditional and sustainable farming methods, and the two elements run side by side. You can't do one without the other, not if you want them to succeed. The Pontbren Project is a great case study for how a farmer-led scheme can successfully aid them economically while also improving environmental outcomes, and we need to learn and incorporate more lessons from it when discussing this kind of landscape-level management.

Also, with land management in general, I think you're a fucking idiot and dangerously arrogant if you think you can get anything done without all stakeholders being on board. And potentially wandering down the ecofascism path, circumstances dependent.

Anyway, those are my thoughts. Source:

Wynne-Jones, S, Holmes, G & Strouts, G (2018), 'Abandoning or Reimagining a Cultural Heartland? Understanding and Responding to Rewilding Conflicts in Wales - the case of the Cambrian Wildwood.' Environmental Values, vol. 27, no. 4.

[kingkatsuki]

Based on this post and the other posts on my blog about #bigdickdynamight.

Warnings: 18+, suggestive convos, Bakugou has a canonically big dick, calling him daddy as a joke.

Word Count: 0.6k.

“Babe, you’ve got to stop tweetin’ that shit. My PR team are literally up my fuckin’ ass about it again.” He groaned as he heard you laugh on the other side of the phone.

The tweet still sat across his laptop screen as he watched the retweets and likes continue to increase, glad he had his notifications muted.

The tweet was in relation to an official photograph his PR team had handpicked from their latest Dynamight merchandise drop. Bakugou stood topless— wearing a pair of sweats slung low on his hips, the hem of his boxers peeking out from beneath the black fabric as his hero name was printed down the left leg.

I want you in my guts. Dick so big I can feel it in my throat.

Thousands of tweets sat beneath it, a huge amount including the #bigdickdynamight hashtag you’d come up with a few months prior. His PR team had been furious about the tweet, but every single item from that merchandise drop had sold out in the last six hours. It was the quickest launch to completely sell out sand the sweatpants he was wearing in that particular tweet were the first item to go.

“Well, what do you expect me to do?” You grinned, “Stop being so hot and I won’t have to comment on it.”

“Piss off,” Bakugou replied, but he couldn’t hide the smirk that was pinching at the corner of his lips, “Got this lady panicking in the office right now, trying to do damage control.”

“Damage control?” You replied curiously, “Does she realise the internets in agreement with me? They all want you to dick them down too, I’m just lucky that you stick it in me every—”

“Yeah, yeah. Alright, sweetheart.” Bakugou cut you off, watching the head of PR out of the corner of his eye as he felt a heat rise to his cheeks, “They asked me to tell you to cool it.”

“So they were fine when everyone thought you were beating me last month.”

Bakugou felt regret form in the pit of his stomach at the memory, a night of messy drunken sex had resulted in you sporting a black eye and although your friends and family were understanding, it had been hell trying to explain to the public that he hadn’t hit you.

“Remember your same stupid team wanted you to do a whole public apology like you were guilty of something.” You almost snarled, “What a great idea that was.”

“It was supposed to be an interview for the both of us.” Bakugou smiled, “Although I think they would’ve wanted you to sit and look pretty.”

Instead of waiting for him to give some sort of public apology, you’d found a random fan account that had tweeted to ask about the situation and replied to them.

Oh, he’s never hit me. But he beats something up😽

And #bigdickdynamight had trended for the next fortnight.

“They just don’t want me to speak my truth.” You sighed.

“Nah, I think it’s cause you’ve got such a way with words, sweetheart.”

“Hey, at least I’m consistent,” You grinned, “I’ll have to tell them about that thing you do with your tongue that makes me—”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” Bakugou’s cock twitched at the thought as he cut you off.

“I’m joking, baby. I’m joking.” You laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Ya better fuckin’ not, or you’ll be tweetin’ about how hard I spanked the brat out of ya tonight.”

“Oh, yeah?” You almost purred on the other side of the phone at the suggestion, “Is that a threat or a promise.”

“You know exactly what it is, princess.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Hah, fuck off.” Bakugou’s cheeks were flushed red now as he heard you cackle on the other side of the phone, trying to hide the semi he was now sporting at work as he was about to enter “damage control” with his head of PR.

[anemptypuddingcup]

Just an imagine. This shit came to my head when I watched him punch the shit outta that dude in Sabaody.

Imagine being Luffy’s stress toy.

-I wouldn’t necessarily say a toy but it definitely feels like it when he’s angry. Once Luffy’s pissed, it’s gonna take a while before his ass can calm down again.

-A faint reminder not to fuck with him or do something that would piss him off to the point where he’ll end up wanting to fuck you up. (Literally and figuratively.)

-Jealousy can especially make him burn up with anger. When it comes to Sanji’s flirting or Zoro’s teasing, he goes straight to you for causing them to do it. (Even if it was unintentional.)

-A burning hot grip around your wrist meant a night of absolute hell for your and your poor little cunny to experience from your angered little man.

“Ya think it’s so fuckin’ cute huh? Ya think it’s so fuckin’ cute when they tease an’ flirt with a slutty whore like ya!? Huh!?” Luffy huffs angrily, his grip on your thighs hotter and tighter than ever.

“N-No L-Luffy~ I-I don’t!” A little whine leaves you as you shake your head, reaching your arms out to push him off you a bit. But that only makes him thrust deeper into you, hitting a spot that not even you knew existed.

“Ion wanna hear that, ya liked it didn’t ya!? What about when I tease ya hah!?” His hands grips your wrists and pins them above your head as you let out a slight cry out of pain.

-In order to make sure you can feel his anger within each thrust, Luffy would stretch his cock inside of you to make sure he can reach any spots that no one else can.

As the sound of skin slapping echoes throughout our shared room, you’re gripping the sheets like your life depends on it while your moan are loud and desperate. You couldn’t tell if you were whining for Luffy to give you more or to give you less.

He presses his chapped burning lips against yours and forces his tongue past your lips, dominating your mouth. You didn’t bother trying to fight with him until he grip your face and squeezed it a bit tight.

“Kiss me like ya mean it. I know ya like this shit. Ya like when I get mad an’ that’s why ya do it, ain’t it?” He accuses, his glare only piercing deep into your soul. You shake your head in denial but Luffy presses you further as he presses a hand against your breast, groping it roughly.

“Ya don’ have t’lie to me. Ya pussy gets wet when ya see me get mad, doesn’t it?”

“My dirty lil’ whore likes it when her captain gets mad. Lookat ya, ya pussy’s soakin’ all ‘round my fuckin’ dick.”

-The teasing is endless with him too.

-You couldn’t deny it, the way he fucked you was so immaculate that you wanted to lose your ability of walking the next day.

-Not that you didn’t enjoy sex with Luffy in general, it was just something about him being angry that had you on edge yet enjoyed it.

-He taunts you when you whine or beg for him to slow down, finding it rather amusing that you acted like it wasn’t what you wanted.

“L-Luffy! ~ Hah! L-Luffy p-please slow downnn~” You whined as tears slid down your face. Luffy chuckles slightly at your pleading before pressing his head against yours and cooing at you. “Aww, my lil’ slut’s cryinnn’, it’s okay babyy~” He coos before he continues fucking into you.

-Nearing then end of the rough session, he’s calmed down enough to the point where he asks if you’re alright even though you were already mind fucked enough.

“Ya okay baby? Ya gettin’ quiet on me.” He asks in a slightly concerned tone, with most of that already melted away on his body. You could only answer in slight noises or slurred speech due to how much he’s fucked you dumb.

-In the end, he apologizes for what he’s done with kisses, cuddles, and even sharing some of his snacks with you. Though, you aren’t upset with him as long as you get to get payback in the future.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hiii

Can you do the bassists too (safe words)

Absolutely! Here are Jason and Cliff with using safe words, I was going to add Rob but I literally couldn't think of anything, nothing against him as a bassist or person in general I've just never been into him I guess so I apologise for that lol. Other than that I hope you enjoy who I did write for :3

If you'd like to see any other band/musicians you'd like to see with this prompt let me know and I might write for it :3

Link to part 1

Warnings: Smut, angst, use of a safe word, rough sex, car sex, high sex, mentions of weed, if you think you won't be comfortable reading that that's fine protect yourself before reading content, if there's something you think I missed please let me know :3

You came home after a long day at work, your body was sore and all you wanted to do was curl up on the couch with your boyfriend, Cliff.

As soon as you got through the front door you were hit with a very distinct smell. Having gone through this countless times before you made your way into the living room and found Cliff on the couch watching cartoons and giggling like a little kid. His eyes were red and he had a joint in his hand.

Cliff didn’t even seem to notice you had gotten home until you were standing directly in front of him. “Oh, hey.” He said, voice cheery as he smiled up at you. You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “You want to watch with me?” You didn’t want to watch with him when he was like this, not today, but you did want to just sit with him. You let out a heavy sigh and curled up next to him on the couch, trying to ignore the stench of weed.

As the cartoons progressed you relaxed a bit. You got used to the smell and were able to tune it out in a way. Cliff was shifting uncomfortably beside you and it was getting harder to ignore. “Is something wrong?” You asked, looking up at him. Cliff shook his head. You weren’t convinced so you kept an eye on him but continued watching the movie.

“Can I see your hand?” He asked, already reaching for your hand. You didn’t understand what he was planning but figured nothing was wrong with him just holding your hand, whether he was high or not he always enjoyed toying with your fingers. You turned your attention back to the movie, though watching a bit of what he was doing. Cliff took your hand, kissed your knuckles a few times before bringing your hand down to his crotch, palming himself through his jeans with your hand.

You pulled your hand away, even going as far as to scooch further down the couch. “What the hell, Cliff?”

Cliff just chuckled, giving a small shrug. “What? C’mon, been sitting here alone all day, ‘m bored.” He mumbled, reaching for your hand again. You sighed but let him continue. You unzipped his pants and tugged them down a bit along with his boxers, just enough to have his cock spring out. He was already fully hard, the tip was bright red and leaking so you started stroking him.

This was not how you wanted to spend your time at home, the situation as is was enough to make you cry. Your eyes were tearing up as you jerked him off but you managed to keep your emotions under control, thinking you could make him cum and he’d crash. This was not the case as his hand made its way to your head, tangling in your hair and trying to push your head down to meet his member. You stopped and got off the couch. “Cliff, I don’t want to do that.” You stated, your voice wavering.

“C’mon, ‘m almost done anyway.” He reached for you again but you pulled away. “C’mon, please?” He stood up, now towering over you as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing all over your face. His hand slid down your arm before reaching your own and brought it back to his dick.

“No, Cliff, stop! I-I don’t want to.” You protested, just barely holding back your tears. Cliff just kept going, your pleas just seemed to turn him on more and it didn’t take long before he came, white spurts getting all over your clothes and the floor.

“Hah, fuck, see? Wasn’t that-” He pulled away and finally saw your tear streaked cheeks. “What’s the matter?” He asked, bringing the hand that was just around his dick to your face. You took a step back and shook your head, wiping your tears.

“I said pumpkin, why didn’t you listen?” You asked through soft sobs. Cliff stood there dumbfounded, he hadn’t even registered you were speaking, let alone that you had said your safe word.

“I didn’t hear you.” He muttered, quickly trying to get himself situated so he could comfort you. You stormed off into the bedroom, locking the door behind you.

Cliff sighed and fell back onto the couch, falling asleep almost instantly.

A few hours later Cliff woke up again and noticed the bedroom door was still closed. He managed to sleep off his high and went over to check on you but the door was still locked, he tried knocking but there was no answer. He knew he messed up and wanted to do something to make you happy, so he got his keys and a jacket and went out to retrieve some of your favourite snacks.

Cliff returned with a bag of goodies and excitedly went to the bedroom and knocked. “Y/n? I, um, I got you some snacks.” He called through the door. When there was no response he knocked again. “Hello? Oh, are you sleeping? Fuck, sorry.” He backed away but quickly turned back. “You aren’t sleeping, you can’t be sleeping, I’m not sleeping with you.” He whispered to himself and knocked again. “Y/n, love, can you open up for me, please?” He huffed when there was yet again no reply. He just started knocking on the door, not aggressively just light tapping, enough to annoy the living shit out of you.

Cliff just kept on knocking and calling out your name, he didn’t notice you coming out of the bathroom and walking up behind him. “Y/n, please! I’m so sorry, please, just talk to me!” He called. You started digging through the bag he got for you which he finally noticed and glanced down and had to do a double take to make sure he was seeing things right. “Oh, y/n!”

“How long were you knocking?” You asked, pulling out your favourite drink from the bag.

“Doesn’t matter, I got you some snacks.” Cliff smiled as he held out the bag to you. “I wanted to apologise for today, I’m so sorry that I didn’t listen to you when you wanted to stop.” You nodded along and wrapped your arms around him, pushing your face into his chest.

“I just had a really bad day and wanted cuddles.” You mumbled, voice starting to shake again. Cliff wrapped his arms around you as well, kissing the top of your head.

“We can cuddle now if you want.” You looked up at him with a smile and nodded. The two of you got into bed, holding each other close as you snacked and talked about your days, mostly you venting to him about work. He was happy to listen and make your day just a little bit better.

Jason was never the possessive type. He had his moments, for sure, but he always trusted you and there was never a time where he ever told you not to hang out with certain people or something.

You went to visit him at the studio and decided to bring him and the other guys lunch. When you got there Jason was in the recording booth, getting his bass lines down. Of course, everyone was very happy to see you, or rather the food that came with you. Jason wanted to finish up his parts before coming out for lunch so you found a stool in the corner and sat down to wait for him.

While he was in there one of the tech guys came over to you and started talking to you. Nothing much, just a bit of small talk. You didn’t see anything wrong with it but when Jason got out of the booth he was pissed. He came right over to you and stood between you and the guy, not waiting a second before smashing his lips against your. “Didn’t know you were coming down here, doll.” He muttered against your lips.

“Yeah, well, I thought it would be nice to bring you and the guys food.” You said with a smile, you could tell something was wrong but you weren’t quite sure what it was. Jason nodded and pulled you into his arms, picking you up and carrying you out of the recording room. James and Lars protested, saying he wasn’t done. They stopped when Kirk reminded them that he had actually finished his parts.

“Jase, where are we going?” You asked, giggling at his behaviour.

“Home.” He replied bluntly. “Need to remind you who the fuck you belong to.” You couldn’t deny that you were a little interested to see this side of Jason. This new dominating, possessive angle of the man you love.

Jason got you in the passenger seat of his car before going over to the driver's side. He didn’t even make it out of the parking lot before he started pulling at your pants, tugging them down your thighs. “Jason, come on, just wait till we get home.” You were still smiling and your tone was still cheery while he started to play with you.

He slapped your thigh. “Shut up, you were horny enough to go after the fucking bellboy or whatever he was.” You looked at him with a hurt expression as he tugged on your panties so hard they broke.

“Jason! These were expensive.” You whined, he didn’t care and just slid a finger over your slick folds. He kept his eyes on the road, glaring at all the passing cars and buildings while sinking a finger in you.

It started out fine, you were enjoying this version of him and the way he was making you feel. “Fuck, Jason, feels so good.” You hummed and rolled your hips against his hand, looking for more of his touch. He pulled his finger out and slapped your thigh again, this time much harsher.

“Shut the fuck up, who said you could fucking talk?” You bit your lip, staring at him a little worried. He stuck two fingers back into you but didn’t wait for you to adjust before he started pumping them in and out of you. There was a small pain but you thought you could handle it. Then he stuck another in, again he didn’t wait.

You were getting closer to home but not nearly fast enough and Jason already had four fingers stretching you out in such a painful manner. You were whining and crying for him to let up, you knew if you absolutely needed to you could use your safe word but you didn’t want to. You had been enjoying where this was going and thought he would let up soon, as soon as you got home. He didn’t.

He pulled the car into a parking lot and turned it off. “Get in the back.” He ordered and got out of the car. He stood there for a moment while you sat in the car, unsure of what to do. Jason came over to your side of the car and opened your door. “I told you to get in the back.” You started crawling between the seats to get to the back but he pulled you back. “Not that way you fucking child, c’mere.” He tugged on your arm to get you out of the car.

“What? No! I’m not going out with my fucking pants down, what if someone sees?” Your voice was a whisper as you expressed your concerns.

“There’s no one fucking here, come on.” He pulled you out of the car and got you into the backseat in a rather aggressive manner. Jason didn’t hesitate and put his fingers right back inside you. The stretch was unpleasant, the way his fingers moved didn’t feel half as good as they usually did. He took it a step further and got his whole fist in you, that’s when you had enough.

“Jason.” You squeaked. “Jason stop, it hurts.”

“Stop being a bitch and just take it, you were all over that bastard back at the studio, just wanna throw yourself at anyone, huh?” His tone and accusation along with the stretch was just all too much and tears started streaming down your cheeks as you cried.

“Please, Jason, I-I’m sorry! I didn’t-didn’t mean to I just-”

“Didn’t mean to? Fuck you mean you ‘didn’t mean to’? Didn’t mean to fuck other guys on your way over?” You shook your head, squirming underneath Jason.

“Please, Jason.” You whined.

“Please, what? Please let me fuck around? Please let me take whatever cock I want?”

“Pump-pumpkin, please, pumpkin!” You cried out. Jason stopped, pulling his hand out of you.

“Baby, what did you say?” His voice was the complete opposite as to what it just was, no longer harsh and accusatory but soft and sweet just as you were used to. “Did you say pumpkin?” He brought his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek lovingly.

“‘M sorry, I just-just couldn’t take it anymore.” You said through sobs. Jason shook his head and carefully pulled you into his lap. “No, no, don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m so sorry I made you have to say that.” He held you close to his chest, kissing your forehead and cheeks. “I’m sorry I was so rough, you didn’t do anything to deserve that.”

[binsito]

I loved your idea of hannie with his nail tech crush.. yk what i think though? OBVIOUSLY the nailtech kinda knows abt this little crush of his. She doesnt know how severe it is but she does notice the way he blushes slightly when she compliments his hands, or the way his eyes sparkle when she finally giggles at one of his jokes. Also who am i kidding the nail tech obviously ALSO finds hannie v v cute and v v hot bc,,,, he's hannie??? He's charming and handsome and he keeps his fingernails clean soooo maybe the next time he comes around, and she is feeling a little frustrated bc her own hands aren't enough fun for her.. she'll hint at wanting his fingers inside of her? Maybe she'll be kinda distracted and shy this tine or maybe she's bold and just straight up teases him by saying things that could be considered dirty but also might just be his pervy mind interpreting the wrong thing. Aaa idk i'm not a writer but yourw giving my head THOUGHTS

OHHHH MYGOD. thank god you left this ask bc i was dying to write more for this JASHDJA

warning: fingering, hand worshipping, swearing, slight perv!han jisung, lmk if i missed anything but it's pretty tame

wc: 914

hannie has to act normal.

hannie has to be cool.

hannie has to act like he doesn't go home after every appointment and edges his cock thinking about how nice it would be to have your lips wrapped around his tip.

so when he walks into the salon, straight into your suite and takes a seat at your chair - he makes a mental promise to himself that:

he. will. not. get. hard.

he won't get hard if you hold his hands, it's all part of your job.

he won't get hard if you smooth lotion on him, it's just a courtesy.

he won't get hard if you compliment his nails, they're only pretty because you made them pretty.

"hannie do you even put your fingers to use?"

what?

"you come here so often and yet they're rarely chipped or overgrown. you must not lift a finger." you smile.

oh.

he felt so stupid, of course he read into it in such a dumb, perverted way.

"you must take good care of yourself hm?"

fuck.

why couldn't he be normal? why couldn't he just have nice, clean thoughts? why was he getting hard? why couldn't he just keep his promise?

"your hands are always soft. i wish i had nice fingers like you. they're long and pretty.."

he clears his throat and laughs awkwardly. he was being such a loser.

"oh yeah.. they're definitely long, alright.. hah.." he says

who the fuck says that?

he literally wanted the ground to eat him up.

"yeah, they are. longer than mine." you giggle as you work on his polish.

"yeah.. way longer.."

and why he kept going? only god knows, but he definitely noticed your face flushing (and was he crazy or were you pressing your legs tightly together under the table?)

hannie doesn't think he's ever seen you this quiet, this concentrated on his hands before. after the conversation died out, there was no other topic to bounce off of. and normally han jisung would just start talking about random shit, would tell you your hair looked pretty or that he noticed your subtle eye makeup and that it looked nice.

but not now.

not today.

"hannie have you ever had problems reaching things with your fingers? i-it could just be because mine aren't as long as yours but.. you know they're never quite enough to reach."

"oh uh.. n-no but do you need help reaching something? i could help.."

"could you really? that's so sweet of you, hannie.." your smile could melt him into a puddle. you smile at him so sweetly, just for him and han jisung can't really handle that well.

"so what is it you need help with? something too high up or-"

"well.. i just can't seem to cum. doing your nails frustrates me so much. they look so nice so why can't i have them inside of me?" you pout at him.

the wind feels like it was knocked out of him. he thanks god that you have your own little suite and no one else was around to hear that.

"f-fuck, are you serious? holy shit, why didn't you say something sooner?"

"well because i'm a little shy and because i wanted to finish doing your set first, of course..

you really mean it though? will you actually help me?"

"yes.. fuck, yes i'll help you."

his eagerness was cute. unluckily for him, he still had to wait for you to cure his gel polish. his leg bouncing impatiently as you gave him a look to quit it.

he smiled shyly and let out a nervous chuckle as he tried to contain himself. once you were done, he damn near jumped out of his chair towards you. you put some of your supplies away and walked past him to lock the door. as soon as he felt the coast was clear and no one would walk in, he grabbed you - kissing you deeply and pressing you against his lean body.

it was an intense kiss, full of want and desire but you welcomed it because you had been feeling the same way. you pulled away slightly to grab his wrist, bringing it up towards your mouth so you could take two of his freshly manicured fingers in between your lips.

you made sure to get them nice and wet, saliva connecting them to the tip of your tongue when you pulled them out.

han jisung felt weak.

he found himself pressing you against the nearest wall, your pants long forgotten as he pumped his fingers inside you, finally leaving you fuller than your fingers ever could.

the pads of his fingers massaged your gummy spot and curled against it making your knees buckle. it was all too perfect and better than you could ever imagine. you knew the orgasm he was going to pull from you was going to be intense. you felt it bubbling up already and he hadn't even been touching you for long.

but when he brings his other hand forward to rub at your clit and you look down to catch a peek of his baby blue nails, you lose yourself to him and feel yourself cream around his fingers. clenching your cunt tightly against them, not wanting him to ever pull out.

however when he does pull out, he makes sure to have you watch as he sucks your essence off his fingers. rolling his eyes back at the taste and humming in satisfaction.

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

[moonmeg]

what kind of bracelet is micah wearing in the last comic? 🤔

He's been wearing it since First Kiss(es)!

In this post I mention it first. As Makenna (21) is leaving Bonesborough and Feya (19) follows just a few months later, while Micah (16) stays behind, Feya and Micah had the idea to create something that firstly was supposed to just be a reminder to Makenna that she has siblings who love her very much but then essentially thought all three of them deserve that reminder. A literal sibling bond you could say.

They braided three identical bracelets/charms using golden yarn as representative color for Makenna, pink yarn as representative color for Feya and red yarn as representative color for Micah, and surprised Makenna with it. Now all three of them wear it one way or another and will continue to wear it ♡

I thought about illustrating it, but I'm afraid my brain works more and faster than my hands and schedule/private life can manage, so I hope you are fine with just the script 🥹❤️

Feya: Kenna, before ye go... Mikey and I have something to give ye.

(Hands it to Makenna)

Makenna: A bracelet?

Micah: It can be a charm for yer bag too. It can be lotsa things. Whatever ye want it to be, really.

Feya: Red is for Micah. Pink is for me. Gold is for ye.

Micah: Fey and I have the same for us too. (They hold them up)

Makenna: For what?

Feya: Well, ye're going and we ken ye'll try to write letters as frequently as ye can but we don't ken when we'll meet again face to face. Since I'm thinking about going too and Mikey is almost grown up and who knows where he'll go or do... this might be the last time in a while we see each other like this.

Micah: The idea was to have something that physically connects us no matter where we are... like a literal sibling bond, so ye don't forget us, Mak.

Makenna: Oh, ye bafoons. I'll die before I forget ye. Ye're my little sister and brother and I may not have always shown it but I love ye two so much and I promise this isn't the last time we stand face to face. I'm so happy and grateful to have ye two in ma life. Even if I wanted another sister instead of a brother-

Micah: Well, I'm sorry I ruined yer perfect dream family.

Makenna: Nah, I think it's better ye turned out a little annoying brother rather than another annoying sister who constantly steals ma stuff.

Feya: I have never done anything of the likes.

Makenna: Uh-huh. I'm still missin' three pairs of earrings that I last saw when I lend them to ye. As well as a shirt, a pair of boots...

Feya: Alright, alright! Maybe I did borrow a thing or two. Ye want 'em back?

Makenna: Nah, keep 'em. I'll surive wi'out. (Pause. She looks st the braid in hand, tearing up as she remembers how she was the one to teach them how to braid) I'll miss ye two goons*¹. A lot. I love ye.

Feya: We love ye too.

Micah: Always will.

Makenna: Aye, I know.

Micah: Hah! We made ye cry!

Makenna: Och falbh dairich fhein!*��

*¹ idiots *² Oh, go fuck yourself

[cookie-crumblr]

The smell of smoke

Innocent F! Reader x M!Yandere Bully OC

Part 1~

His Info: 🖕✨

Part: 1 2

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, reader in a skirt, YANDERE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, name calling (bitch, slut, ), BULLYING, non con touching-shoving stuff like that, non con exhibitionism, burning, hand gag, non con oral on m!, severe violence against reader, non con foreign object use in vagina, SA by ml!, sadism

“Ooof!” the wind is all knocked from your lungs as you slam yourself into something solid right outside your dorm room door.

“Want sum bitch!?” A tall, strawberry blonde guy shouts as he shoves you away from him.

Your poor body slams into a wall, you squint at the pain and at the same time a lewd warmth starts to seep between your legs.

A fist punches the wall above your head causing your eyes to shoot open.

“hah, this bitch thinks she’s cute or sumthin’” His other hand roughly pulls your skirt up by the hem, showing your little-white-ribbon-having panties to all his friends.

They laugh and leer at you.

“Oh, what’s this,” His fingers roughly press under your hood, “She’s fucking wet, what a slut. Trynna look all innocent an shit” he spits.

In one blink he’s roughly assaulting you, the next he’s leaving with his friends laughing about you on the way.

You fix your clothes as you stare after them and try to calm your racing heart.

At least you won’t see him again…

You make it to your class only a minute late, and find a seat open in the back.

While you doodle puppies in the margins instead of taking notes, that same guy slams down a book on the table next to you.

You glance up to his chilling smile, “Listen bitch, I know you want this,” He grabs his crotch, “but I’m not fuckin’ interested, gotit? so move.”

“Th-there aren’t a-any seats op-” you peep before being cut off-

“Not my problem.” He sits and leans back, his ankle crossing his knee.

From a pocket somewhere he pulls a pack of cigarettes, and sparks one, his curious and agitated eyes not leaving yours.

The professor walks in at the same moment “Ezra, put it out.” he says without even turning to look.

In that moment his big hand covers your entire mouth forcefully, his lips come close to your ear, “Don’t scream, or else,”

As you grunt out in confusion and reach up to try and pry off his hand, you feel the searing hot pain of him putting out his cig on your thigh.

The pain is white hot, searing and blinding.

Your scream is muffled by his hand, and tears prick at your eyes.

Nobody even turns to look.

You claw at his hand.

His breath tickles your neck, “I said~ Don’t. Fucking. Scream.”

Goosebumps prickle all over your flesh.

“Now yer gonna get it, bitch” he nips at your ear while his finger trails your jaw. A shiver ripples through you.

For just a second too long he gazes into your eyes, your heart beats thunder in your ears.

You’re a frozen deer staring into the headlights of your doom.

Ezra moves a hand to your throat and tightly squeezes. You strain to breathe and fail to notice him opening his pants.

he shoves your face down into his lap.

For a second you can breathe and you gasp, trying to take in any air at all, and instead getting a throat full of dick.

“Mmmf!!!!!” Your throat contracts painfully.

He pushes his hips up and your head down further so that your nose presses against his thigh.

You can’t breathe at all!

He knows it and rotates his hips, grinding into your face harder before he pulls you off of him enough to get some air finally.

That doesn’t last long before you’re shoved back down.

It feels as though he doesn’t even want to come. He’s literally just holding you there to torture you.

You get only the air he allows you.

Tears roll helplessly down your face, mixing with snot and saliva alike.

This lasts the entire class period. Him keeping your puffy lips pressed against his body, and only giving you air when you’re just about to black out.

It didn’t take long for you to just give up the fight entirely.

He finally lifts you off, his still rock hard dick bobs as you leave it, before standing straight back up.

He lets you drop onto your desk.

You let out a shaking groan, while you catch your breath.

“Not gonna give anything t’a bitch like you,” he stands to leave and spits onto your back.

You run from the room, to the relative safety of the laboratories.

In the reflection you inspect your bloodshot eyes, and the red spots on your face from the oxygen deprivation.

Remarkably, you make your next class on time.

Though, your heart pounds, terrified of the possibility that he could just walk through these doors too.

Thankfully, he doesn’t.

The rest off the day passes without incident but the memory stains you. It keeps flashing through your head. you keep sighing deeply, the air you’re getting not feeling like enough.

You’re zoned out while you walk to your dorm room, not even feeling happy to finally be so close to your bed, so close to salvation…

Everything good left in the world is torn from your reality completely, and utterly when your book bound arms slowly bump into the back of someone once again.

You know who it is before you even focus your eyes…

Your body shakes violently as you begin to sob again.

“You just don’ fuckin’ learn, do you, bitch?”

“What’s this chick’s problem?”

“Yeah, she obsessed with you or sumthin’?”

“Dunno. wha’ d’ya say? Ya obsessed with me, slut?” his head tilts as he smirks.

You continue to cry and sob louder and louder.

“The fuck? We’re talkin’ t’ya, bitch,” his smirk morphs into a snarl.

“I-I-I’m s-sorryyyyyy” you stumble over your words as you choke over your tears.

“Did I ask fur a fuckin’ apology?” He grips your hair and slams your head into a cement brick wall.

“Ahh haaaaa!!! Noo!! P-leaseeee!! Nno!” You plead desperately while you try and weakly push your body away from the wall, blood pours from your forehead into your eyes. The blood burns and makes you squint, your vision blurred and crimson.

He pulls you up to his slightly tilted face by your scalp, “Choose your next words carefully, bitch” his breath tickles your lips.

“S-s—sorr-yyyy” you don’t know what you did to deserve this. You don’t know what he wants from you. and you honestly don’t know what is going to happen now.

“This your room?” he uses your jaw to spin your head painfully around, “Get her fucking keys.”

His friends surround you both as hands grope you and fondle areas that definitely don’t have pockets until the jingle of metals can be heard.

You’re still sobbing and his hand is still grasping a fist full of your locks.

The one with the keys unlocks the door, and you all flood into the room, Ezra forcing you forward.

Your roommate wakes up from her nap in shock, “Wh-what’s going on!?”

“Get ‘er out.” He commands his friends, as he throws you onto your bed. “Somebody get this bitch’s clothes off. Now”

“Y/N!!!! Y/N, Oh my gods—Stop!!!!” Your roommate screams as the force the door into her face.

His eyes scan the room as he lights up another cigarette. He finds the first thing he can shove into your vagina, and grabs it.

You’ve been kicking and pleading for them to stop as they stripped you. “hold her down.” he says, and they do.

Whether you’re lucky or unlucky is up to you, as he holds up a wooden handled broom from the corner before snapping it in half.

“N-no!”

He throws the half with the sweeper away and comes at you with the other.

“Which end bitch?” he holds the thing up for you to see.

“ROUND!” Your brain at least works when it desperately needed to.

“Glad you’re finally fucking getting it,” The broom handle still struggles to go in despite how wet you are.

He shoves past where your body wants it to stop.

He shoves it in and out of you while his friends hold your limbs spread apart.

He pinches and slaps your clit, bruising your mound.

Your body convulses as you cum, Ezra shoves it in as hard as he can before backing up and pulling out his phone.

His friends continue to hold you as he snaps a few pictures of your body, with your pussy exposed, and a broken handle sticking out of you.

You twitch in their final grasps, before Ezra flicks his still lit cigarette at you, and they let go.

He practically rips the door off the hinges and he ducks to leave.

Your roommate rushes in after they’re gone and calls an ambulance for you.

[dia-souls]

🥀 Subayui fanfic 🥀

Pairing : Subaru 🗡️ and Yui🌸

Author: Admin Irsa

Genre: Romance, possessiveness

TW: Servant abusing, Death threat, mentally illness issues, possessiveness

Admin's Note: I don't even know what I wrote I will be very honest it was literally a passing thought. If you have confusion regarding this one-shot do ask. I will surely clear it. Again reviews are welcomed!

Nightmare of Love

Subaru looked at the tower infront of him. He could hear a shrill scream coming from the tower. He moved towards the tower with heavy steps. If he wanted he could easily teleport inside but he didn't because he was preparing himself for what was about to come.

As Subaru continued to move upstairs he noticed that the scream had died down. He then continued his small journey towards the room. He sighed to prepare himself from the emotional trauma that was about to come.

He opened the door to see her. He noticed that the maid whom he had hired to monitor Yui was glaring at her but her gaze changed as soon as she saw subaru. Yui was sitting on the floor, her back leaned against bed for support. She had pulled her legs towards her chest. Her face buried in between them. She looked frail with her white night gown on her. Her fragile form was something that had always worried Subaru for her safety.

"Yui." Subaru mumbled lightly.

Yui upon hearing her name immediately looked up as soon as her gaze fell on Subaru her eyes went lost, her eyes lost her shine as soon as she saw him.

Subaru raised his eyebrow as he noticed a slit on Yui's lip dried blood was still present on corner of her mouth. He felt anger and rage in his chest, his angry gaze immediately fell on the maid he hired to protect Yui.

"How do you explain this?!?" He said as he frowned and moved toward the maid.

"W-what?.. " The maid immediately backed away upon hearing his angry growl. Yui watched the scene unfolding infront of her with dead eyes there wasn't any emotion on her face. She then started looking at the carpet trying to ignore the angry shouts of Subaru.

"What do you mean by 'What' ?! You are supposed to protect her?! Why is her lip broken?!!"

Subaru said as he angrily moved toward the shivering maid whom was backing away. He immediately cornered her on the wall his fist slamming right beside her head. The maid eyes rolled in fear as she for a moment thought he would punch her skull in wall.

"Hah?! You are abusing her?! I hired you to protect her and to take care of her. How dare you try to hit her?! Who the fuck do you think you are to hurt her?! "

Subaru said as he punched another hole on wall. The maid at this point was crying and was on her feet.

" I-I.... She... Wasn't listening to me so in anger I-I-- Subaru-sama... Please!! Ahhhhh!!"

The maid gave a shrill scream as she was lifted by her hair. Subaru rougly gripped her hair, he pulled her hair so hard as if he was trying to tear her skull through her hair.

"Hahah? Do you really think I would let that slide?! HOW DARE YOU I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!?! "

Subaru threw her on floor before the maid could escape he stepped on her hand. The maid screams increased as she felt her hand being crushed.

Yui who was quite throughout the whole scene also was now scared her fear increased as she watched the scene in horror her eyes whom were empty were now filled with fear for her as well as for maids safety. As much as the maid hitted and scolded her, she doesn't want this to happen to the maid.

Eventhough she was feeling sympathy she still remained quite in fear of shifting Subaru anger to her. As Subaru continued to put pressure on maid hand an ugly crack was heard that caused maid to give a powerful scream. Yui yelped in fear her heart started beating fast as fear gripped her heart her breathing shortened.

Subaru upon noticing the increase in Yui's heart beat immediately looked at her. His eyes filled with anger became gentler his face started showing gentleness. He felt disgust of himself as he saw fear and anxiety in Yui's eyes, her big pink eyes were filled with fear... Fear of him. He felt his heart giving a powerful twist.

"Tch."

He said before stepping away he ruffled his hair. It was as if looking into Yui's eyes stopped him from doing horror to the maid. Her eyes made him gentler. He stood there for sometime he doesn't want her to fear him. She is his love, his life, his everything and the last thing he want is for her to fear him, to be scared of him. His eyes then went from Yui towards the maid who was begging for forgiveness.

He then grabbed her by her shoulder and yanked her roughly towards him.

"Stop fucking crying!! You?! You know I am not the one who you should apologize to?! "

He throwed her towards Yui. The maid immediately apologized to Yui. She started begging her. Yui's eyes widened for a moment as she backed away from the mad maid whom was clinging to her. Yui then tried to console maid. After some time of her constantly asking for forgiveness Subaru spoke up.

"Get out.... leave us alone. "Subaru said but it was clear he was telling the maid to leave."

Yui felt fear as soon as she heard his words this means her turn is next? She doesn't want to be alone with him after what she had witnessed. The maid didn't hesitate to leave Yui and ran out of the door.

Subaru looked at the fleeing maid she is going to die tonight he had already decided if it wasn't for Yui being present she would be dead by now. He then coughed awkwardly as his gaze met with Yui.

He then slowly moved towards her not wanting to scare her with his towering frame.

"Yui.. "

He said gently as he sat beside her on the floor. Yui tried to move away only to be stopped as Subaru grabbed her. His grip on her arm firm yet gentle.

"Don't! .... I won't hurt you... Yui, I will never ever hurt you. You... I love you and you can't hurt someone whom you love. Right? "

Yui didn't answer him instead turned her face away from him. She closed her eyes as some unwanted memory crepped up. She sighed trying to push thoes thoughts away trying to calm her herself. She felt like crying. She choked to stop herself. She was scared... Scared to see Subaru like that she wanted to run but she felt scared to do so.

Yui didn't realize as tears start pouring out of her eyes sliding down her cheek. Subaru frowned at her. He pulled her toward himself to hug her hoping it will ease her as Yui started bawling in his chest.

"Shhh! Calm down... I will never hurt you... Yui... I won't. I love you so much. I love you too much--"

"Stop it!! Shut up don't! Don't say that?! Pleaseee!! "Yui chocked the words out as her crying increased.

"Yui... Seeing you, Feeling you calms me I can't--You are my cure! My fucking cure! I can't stop it--"

"Stop! Subaru stop killing everyone don't kill anyone... If you loved me why are you doing this?! Why are you making me like your mother?! Subaru please let me out! These walls are killing me! Don't lock me here... I am going crazy... I will surely die here please--"

"SHUT UP!"

Subaru said aggressively as he hugged her tighter. Yui started beating his chest but he still remained indifferent to her struggle.

"You not okay... You definetely are not. Can't you freacking see I am trying to protect you... I don't want to lose you?! Your mine! Only mine! Your mine to own understand?!? "

Subaru said as he crazily looked at Yui whom was still struggling against him. His eyes were filled with madness. His mind was filled with dark thoughts. He wants to monopolise her can't she understand?! He is protecting her from getting like his mother. He can only protect her by keeping her somewhere safe and there is no place that is more safe than this tower whoes key was owned by him! The tower that is only reserved for his eyes and no one is the safest option for Yui.

"Subaru... Please... Please I am tired of being locked up here I... I am not like your mom... No one wants to hurt me please... "

Yui chocked her words out of her throat. She wants to make him understand. She doesn't want to be here!

"You look so cute while struggling Yui."

Subaru said as he laughed lightly moving Yui's hair away from her face cupping her wet cheek his thumb caressing her swollen lip.

"I will do whatever the fuck I want. I just want us to be happy... Is it really that much hard to understand? Is it that hard to obey me Yui? To love me? Don't make me hurt you... "

Subaru said before joining his lips to her bloodied lips. Yui muffled as Subaru grabbed her jaw to keep her in place.

"You don't even have slightest idea what you do to here? Do you? When you love something you want to protect it and that's what I am doing Yui... "

He said before getting up and going toward door. Yui immediately started chasing him, screaming at him. He pushed her lightly inside the door and locked the door. The banging on the door continued but he ignored it.