#he put down saul

[intergalactic-aesthetic]

My boyfriends job has a fictional character fighting tournament bracket and he sent me this pic

[joessillyadventure]

1 million beers please

[v7n5]

Is it controversial to say that Howard Hamlin was in fact raised by two evil parents, and the evil parents in question were George Hamlin and Chuck Mcgill?

[idknotgonnapost]

Better Call Saul: S5 Ep9 - Bad Choice Road

The Thick of It: the whole thing babe idk

[what-does-the-moose-say]

The first thing Jimmy says to Howard as he and Kim are introduced is: You have meddled with the primal forces of nature, Mr. Hamlin, and I won't have it! This is in the same conference room where they would later do their best to destroy his life.

[gassydumbjocks]

Do it like a Macho

Joel finished putting on his favorite shirt to go out, and checked his chat again, he could hardly believe that he had agreed to go out with that guy his best friend had told him about, he had broken up with his ex months ago, and didn't seem to feel ready to take on another relationship, but, well, a date was better than staying depressed on his couch all afternoon eating junk food watching rom-coms.

He finished by adding his perfume, checking himself once again in the mirror, and sighing "Please dont be a jerk this time" he wished for his next date, when the bell ring got him out of trance.

He ran when he heard the doorbell, and to his great surprise, a tall boy, with a some-what tanned skin, clearly showing latino roots, beefy complexion, large muscles, showed out of his door. There was only one detail, the hunk boy was shirtless, only wearing some gym shorts, and if that wasnt enough, a slight stench was present almost immediately, making obvious it came from the big jock, Joel wrinkled his nose a little trying to be discreet.

"Ehh.. Hello, can I help you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, the jock frowned. "Are you Joel?" He limited himself to ask.

"Yes, uh, are you the boy with whom I had a dat..." his words were interrupted as the animal of a man simply proceed and grabbed him by his head, within a second, he had his head to remain below in one of his armpits, receiving directly that aroma he lingered before, making him cough on the manly scent.

"Shut up! Faggot!" Saul said with an expression of disgust, without any effort he grabbed Joel's shirt collar while he tried to gasp for some air "I don't go to dates with sissys like you! I only hang out with my bros" he told him furiously. "This should put some hair on that chest of yours" Not having time to react quickly, the stinky hunk let out a deep, nasty burp right in his face.

BOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPP!!!

"Now lets start... Real men don't cook, that's for the ladies" the jock said as he blew the remains of his burp towards the poor, scrawny nerd.

As Joel forcibly inhaled Saul's putrid smoke, his brain began to be penetrated by the stench, new memories being created that would replace everything that made Joel him, memories of his mother teaching him how to cook and take care of himself, became in memories of his mother cooking for him, his father and brothers.

"Ugh, God... That's disgusting" Joel swallowed the burp while trying not to vomit while gagging.

"Come on man, you have to get out the machismo inside you... Real men don't clean, we are made to be crude, and ought to be grotty" Saul raised a leg and squinted an eye, before grunting.

PPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTT!!!

After letting out a loud fart that rumbled through his shorts, with a quick maneuver Saul brought Joel closer to his butt, being greeted by the toxic smell emanating from it, Joel swore it would be enough to knock out an elephant, coughing violently.

Again, his mind felt blurred, his thoughts changing with more memories again, since he was a child, the nerdy boy had always been a clean freak, tidying his room and cooperating with his sisters to clean the whole house. now, for some reason he could only remember him and his brothers watching soccer games in their undies, dirty plates of food filling the kitchen sink, dirty clothes scattered throughout the all the house, the toilet bowl up and dirty.

"What's going on?" Joel said, now more dizzy and confused than ever, his nausea preventing him from reasoning clearly and making a superhuman effort not to smell that foul bomb.

"You're becoming a man, that's happening, you better brace your pathetic self, this is a damn combo" Saul warned, then his stomach growled fiercely, while a smirk appeared in his mouth.

"NO!" Joel pleaded, but it was too late, as his please were overshadowed by Saul bending down to be at his height, only to blurt out in his face "MAAAAN UUUUUUUPPP-UUURRRRRRP!!!!" He belched his words out, while forcing the weak gay boy to sniff the nauseating blast.

By that point Joel had already fallen to the ground, crying and suffocating, pleading that this was some kind of nightmare, Saul rolled his eyes and growled "What a fuckin baby, it's just a little man gas, what are you?! Uh? You're a guy, you should be proud... Real men always let the gas rip" he said. , before bending over again, putting his big ass in those smelly shorts scented with all those gases dangerously close to his face, to let one last fart finish his job, poor Joel just having a final view of the ass getting closer "NOOOOOO!!..."

PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTT!!!

...

"And he is right..." was the first thought that Joel had after the abrupt attack in that gas chamber "Men always let it rip... A Man loves to let it rip, its just a dude thing we have to assert our dominance" was what came out then of his lips, before Saul heard and turned to see him, and a huge smile of satisfaction formed on his face.

"Fuck yeah man, nothing like dropping a fat one with your bros for a good laugh, right? We guys should always think farts are funny, they're manly" he remarked.

And as if it was a cue, a growl in Joel's stomach began to growl and make him uncomfortable, he simply patted himself and raised his leg.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRTTTT!!!

"ahh, that felt good" he sighed and letted a dumb chuckle "i have to quit that chipotle next time" he said with a grin, and Saul hit his shoulder playfully.

"haha that's nothing bro, the burping contest we had on our boys' night was brutal, man, you can even belch out the alphabet like a maestro, eh? Show off those roars" Saul added with a huge smile.

"AHHH.. BEHHH... CEEHH.. DEEEHHH" His mind was blank now, a simple order like that was enough to control him and make the burps start to come out of him, even when he didn't feel the need to burp, he just wanted to show off with his bro... It is what real men do.

"That felt good" He said, with a stupid grin forming in his lips too.

"As it should be! You gotta take pride in your machismo, huh? Machote" He said before slapping hiss ass, causing a small but putrid fart to come out of his now plump ass, making both of them laugh. "damn yeah, bro, its fuckin great to be a man" Joel said and Saul nodded proudly.

With that putrid gas, Joel sealed his new persona, letting his old gay and scrawny being fly away in the form of that smelly fart, to become a dumber, grosser, sexist, loud, and obnoxious version of him, a real man, and a real macho.

Seconds later he got a text from his best friend, or his best bro, and read it "Broo, hurry up and bring your fuckin ass here, we gotta have a boys night and watch the game, bring the beer, haven't Saul picked you up yet?"

He smirked and responded "On our way brodah, don't nuke your room too soon, I want to breath some fresh air for the match" He joked and chuckled dumbly, as he squinted one eye and simply lifted his leg to rip a fat deep one before going out his place, fist bumping with Saul.

[tfboyzblog]

Mikey couldn’t believe it was working. That old spell book in his grandfather’s chest was for real. Holding Saul’s hand, he could feel a strange energy fill his body. 

“Holy shit lil’ dude” the older boy exclaimed. “Look at you!”  

Mike glanced to the side where he had his mirror and look at his reflection in shock. He was rapidly growing, almost reaching Saul’s height as a senior. His shirt felt increasingly constrictive as his arms bulged, chest muscles began to push the fabric, back widened. Take off the glasses and ditch the button-up and he could pass as part of the swimming team, or maybe the soccer team... 

“Wow...” was all he could muster in his new, slightly huskier voice. 

“Bro...” Saul nudged him, but the boy was too enraptured in his marvelous growth to notice the older boy begin to dwindle in height and lose much of his size. 

“Bro! I think you’re good for now! Let go!” Saul called louder this time, using his free arm to pull off Mikey’s hand from his own. 

“Oh!” Mikey exclaimed as he came to himself. “I’m sorry! I was so...” he began to mutter as his eyes went back to the mirror and his improved form “-amazed...” he concluded as he tried to move around in his too-small clothes. 

“Yeah... I noticed...” Saul commented in an annoyed tone as he lifted his arms to see how baggy his shirt was now. He silently appreciated the belt holding up his shorts. “Anymore and I’d come out of this looking like a middle schooler... “ 

Mikey looked at his friend, noticing how they practically saw eye to eye now, but the bulk and size the eighteen-year-old had before were gone. He’d still pass for a senior, maybe a junior, but a more average looking one now.  

He smirked. “Nah! You’re still a big boy.” He playfully patted him on the shoulder. “Besides, you’d probably be a cute middle schooler anyway.” He commented. 

“Don’t get any ideas, Mikey!” He pointed at Mike. “Don’t make me regret this!” 

Mikey nodded. “Don’t worry! I promise I won’t.” He hugged his friend, feeling the new power in his arms. If he wanted, he thought, he could hold Saul like that with minimal effort. It felt good. During his strong hug he could swear he felt a poke against his leg, but as he let go, he could see nothing out of the ordinary, aside from what could be a slight blush on Saul’s heavy tanned skin. 

“Thank you! I mean it!” Mikey said. “I just need to stop being kicked around by Hank and his imbecile posse. And now,” he attempted to flex a bicep, but stopping as soon as he started hearing a tear in the fabric “I can! And all thanks to you.” 

“Yeah yeah! I know I’m awesome!” Saul waved. “Just give me back my...” he looked up and down to the burgeoning athlete in dork clothes “you know, everything, next week. That should be enough...”  

“Don’t worry.” Mike said with a wink. “I’ll put your... everything to good use!” 

-- 

Saul left soon after and Mikey thanked the heavens. He couldn’t stand in these terribly tight clothes anymore! His shirt, his socks, but more urgent yet, his underwear. 

Taking off his button shirt with effort, Mikey was in awe of his new sculpted pecs protruding from his chest, he caressed them and followed down to an immaculate row of abs connecting to his waist. He pulled off the trousers, that now looked like they were close to tearing at the seams. His legs were wide and powerful. His feet looked bigger, even. And gazing up he stopped at his poor white briefs, pushing and compressing an impressive bulge. 

“Wow...” He moaned. “I guess I got some of Saul’s ‘other’ size too...” He thought as he pulled down the last piece of constrictive clothes. A long, girthy semi erect dick whipped out of the small nerdy briefs. “I must be, like... 7 inches now!” Mikey said, grabbing his newly improved fuckstick. It felt heavy in his hand, being accustomed to his 4 incher. “Poor Saul.” He thought, making a note to return him his size as soon as he could. 

“But for now...” He smirked and flexed his huge biceps. His dick twitched at the sight. “I want to enjoy the ride.” 

-- 

Saul was getting restless. The week was almost over and not a word for his neighbor. Mikey was always a good kid, and he was tired of hearing how he was constantly getting bullied by some idiot jocks... 

He looked at his mirror. He missed his muscles and the size he used to carry, but he couldn’t help thinking how he kinda looked cuter with a bit less meat in his bones, more of an average but still charming high school boy. He felt a tingle in his lower area, making him rethink all of that. If he knew Mikey’s weird spell would also drain away his size down there, he’d probably reconsider being a donor. Even in his boxers, there was hardly any bump in the front. His healthy looking 6 incher, now closer to 4, at most... 

Suddenly there was a strong knock at the door. 

Mikey! It had to be him! 

Saul flew down the stairs, only in a baggy t-shirt and boxers. He wasn’t prepared for who was waiting on the other side of the door. 

A hulking muscular beast walked in. “Hey there little dude.” He said in a deep voice as he looked down at Saul. “Did you get smaller since I last see you?” 

“Mikey?” Saul asked incredulous. This muscle god was at least 7 feet tall by now, his massive chest barely covered by a tank top, strong thick arms stretched behind his head exposing a pair of sweaty and moderately hairy pits. The monster smirked at Saul, and it was clear it was his friend’s face. More masculine, more defined, perfect skin instead of the normal zits, a killer smile... 

“I go by Mike now. Mikey was giving people the impression I was some tiny nerd or something.” He brings one of his arms down and casually adjusts his crotch. “And there’s nothing tiny here, right?” He laughs.  

Saul could see the outline of the massive snake in his underwear, easily spotted in all its thick glory even through the sweatpants Mike was wearing. 

“What...what happened? You were like...not half as big last week.” Saul asked the giant teen boy. 

“Well, it was all thanks to you, buddy!” He said as he walked towards Saul and grabbed him in a strong hug. Saul’s head resting against the boy’s giant pec. He suddenly felt inundated by the smell coming from his arms. Saul’s head started swimming and a tingle made his dick twitch. 

“You should’ve seen Hank’s face!” Mike laughed and let go of Saul, walking towards the living room and sitting in the sofa, legs wide apart. “When he saw I was as tall as him and was like, as jacked as him, I think he shat his pants. For the first day in my high school life, they left me alone. I couldn’t believe it was that easy!” 

“That’s great! But then-” Saul tried to speak. 

“I wasn’t done speaking, bro.” Mike interrupted, in a calm, but authoritative way. His voice caused a tingle to spread down Saul’s spine and into his lower area. 

“Well, you won’t believe what those pussies tried next!” He continued, now in a friendlier tone. Saul, however, couldn’t shake off the force the boy exuded and the respect he commanded with a simple sentence. He stood in front of the huge teen as he stretched on the couch.  

“They waited for me outside the school the next day. Waited for me to be alone and then Hank grabbed me and dragged me to old warehouse. I guess he thought he couldn’t put me in my place alone now, so he wanted to gang up on me where no one could see. Can you imagine though? How could those losers ever think my place was beneath them?” He laughed at the notion. 

“And wasn’t he surprised when he noticed my shoulders were too wide for him to grab me like that. And weren’t his friends shocked when he let go of me and was just a skinny brat. You should’ve seen his face. Wait. You can actually see it. I took pictures.” Mike said, picking his phone from his pocket. Turning the screen to Saul, the awe-struck boy could see a kid looking no older than 12, swimming in his oversized clothes, looking up in shock. 

“Glad I remembered grandad’s spell, eh?” He winked at Saul, who nodded, not wanting to interrupt his friend again. 

“Well, after the brat was taken care of, his friends were easy pickings, to be honest. With every bit of muscle I took, I took ability, masculinity, everything that made them jocks. They had nowhere to run, and I took it all.” He laughed. 

“So, what do you think lil’ bro?” Mike smirked at Saul as he flexed his gigantic biceps. 

Saul dry swallowed. What did he think. Right in front of him was the biggest 15-year-old in the world, most likely. He exuded power and masculinity. He fumbled for words. He felt butterflies in his stomach and the tingling in his dick was stronger than ever. Not just his dick, either. He felt a yearning, inside... 

“Mike-” he almost used his old nickname. “That’s insane. You’re like, bodybuilder huge!”  

“I know, right? Pretty sick!” He guffawed. “Didn’t feel the need to drain them as much as Hanky boy, but they’re pretty much nobodies now. Horny submissive nobodies, actually.” Saul was shook. “They can’t seem to quit my dick, now.” 

“But then again.” Mike grabbed a handful of cock “I got about four jocks worth of testosterone and musk so...” He looked suggestively at Saul “who would be able to...” 

Saul tried to repress the growing feeling inside him. “But your folks? I live right next door and saw nothing different. No one was surprised about this much growth?” He tried to change the subject. 

“Oh that!” Mike waved. “Another one of grandad’s spells. Basically, it normalized things. If you’re outside the spell, that’s how things always were. Kids at school all think that this is how I always looked. Well except for Hanky boy and the bottom bunch. Even if they wanted to tell someone what happened no one would believe them. I think they like knowing their muscles made me this huge, and if they don’t, they should. But yeah, since you were outside that spell it probably, sorta normalized things for you too...”   

Saul just nodded. It made sense. Even though his head was spinning from all this information and the increasing muskiness in the room. 

“So yeah. It’s all thanks to you, lil’ buddy!” Mike reached in front and grabbed Saul until the smaller 18-year-old was straddling his huge quad. Mike’s strong arms surrounded the boy and hugged him tightly. Saul couldn’t help himself but sitting on his friend's leg and putting his hands on his muscular body. 

“I came over to honor my end of the deal. Give you back your muscle. Your height. A few inches down there...” he chuckled. “Unless you don’t want me to.” 

Saul looked shockingly into his friend’s eyes, still holding to his pecs and shoulders. How could he think that was the case. For an entire week he’s been forced to live without his hard-earned physique. It’s not like it’s that bad, and he had to admit he fit real comfortably on Mike’s lap like that, but still... 

“Unless you want me to keep them. Keep looking like this.” He spoke softly, in a voice that twisted his thoughts. 

 “I think that’s what you want.” He chuckled softly; poking Saul’s modest but raging boner. A large wet spot already had formed on the front of his boxers. “And if that’s the case, I’m sure I can pay you back some other way.” Mike’s big meaty hand slid down Saul’s slender back until it found his supple ass. Saul yelped as the hand caressed his backside. “I’ll make sure to give it all to you. Again, and again...” He whispered at his ear. 

“But you have to be the one to say so.” He continued. “So, what will it be?”  

Saul still looked at his friend’s eyes, his hands wandered freely on Mike’s massive chest. He couldn’t think straight, and the yearning inside grew and grew until he finally admitted to himself what it really was.  

He wanted this muscle god inside him. He knew he’d gladly give all his muscle, all his masculinity, just to be owned by this perfect specimen. No matter how many others there were; to know he was Mike’s. To be used as he saw fit. Saul could only hope he was able to give more to this example of athletic perfection. More of his height, so he’d be smaller, and Mike could manhandle him with even more ease, more of his dick and balls, now useless for Mike’s intended purpose, so he could add more to the python and orange sized balls his former nerd friend now had. 

And as he imagined that and he became even more hungry for cock, Saul felt himself sink deeper, fit even more snugly in Mike’s embrace. He could feel the teenage titan stretch a bit more; his spine extend a couple more inches; his frame swell with some more pounds of muscle...  

Saul looked up at Mike and approached his mouth to his, still afraid to make any noise, and meekly nodded. After all, the choice was obvious. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well this has been my first "longer" story and the first experiment in making stories without a picture for inspiration and instead drawing random themes from a choice wheel. This time the themes were Muscle Theft and Corruption ;)

The AI picture is just meant as a placeholder for now, as I haven't found a appropriate picture for it ( and I know you pervs prefer TF stories with pictures). I invite people to submit pictures to accompany this story. And finally, if you have suggestions of other places I could post my longer stories from now on, please let me know!!

[cherrybean]

BB/BCS Characters as your Partners Headcannons

this is mainly neutral with a bit of fluff if you squint for my fluff enjoyers 💗🫶🏽 sorry for being MIA :(( this has been the longest break i have taken 😭

i will be publishing the other longer part of the Lalo pov smut 🙂‍↕️

Jesse Pinkman

- I feel like you’d meet Jesse in some random ass place 😭 but he’d leave a good impression like making you laugh and getting your number

- Jesse would definitely cherish you

- He’s such a sweet guy so I believe that he would legit try to spend almost every second with you 🥺

- Jesse would be the type not to plan super big/fancy dates, but he would always put in effort no matter what

- He would make any small get together with you memorable

- If you guys went to an art exhibit, he’d take pictures of you, telling you you were the most beautiful piece in the gallery 😭

- I feel like although Jesse loves to spend time with you he wouldn’t be overly clingy

- He’d text you good morning and ask you about your day, but he’d try to give you your space

Jane Margolis

- You’d definitely meet Jane at her tattoo shop where she works at

- This would be your first ever tattoo and you’d be scared shitless 😭

- I feel like Jane would tease you about it but not in a mean way but more in a way to try and get you to laugh and not think about the pain

- You’d probably faint halfway and she’d have to try to wake you up 💀that’s where the friendship and talking would start

- I think you guys would start out as friends at first

- She’d show you her art and try to get you to do fun artsy stuff with her

- I think you guys wouldn’t even notice you guys were basically dating up until someone like her dad would say something about you two living together and hanging out basically 24/7

Gustavo Fring

- Most likely meet at his restaurant

- I feel like you’d be super nice and he’d take an interest to who you are

- This man is hard to get so it would definitely take almost 3-4 months of visiting his restaurants and trying to get more out of him than just the “I hope you enjoyed your meal” 💀

- Gus would 100% be the first one to make a move, this man always calls the shots

- If you thought getting him to make the first move…just you wait for the actual relationship 😩

- Mans will take a whole ass year to get to know you before making things official 😭

Ignacio (Nacho) Varga

- You’d probably meet him at his dads auto shop

- You’re having car trouble and somehow luckily broke down in front of the shop

- He’d be the first one to come out and ask you if you needed any help

- You’d be very shy but would try to tell him what was wrong with your car

- Somehow some part would have to be shipped til next week so Nacho being a sweetheart would give you a ride to your house and his number to come pick it up when it’s ready

- To thank him you’d bring him coffee that morning when you’d pick up your car

- I feel like this would be a very cutesy and almost romcommie way to meet and get to know him 😭

- But Nacho is such a sweetie 🥺

Lalo Salamanca

- Honestly you’d probably meet Lalo at a bar 😭

- I feel like he doesn’t really frequent other places

- You’d probably catch his eye and he’d buy you and your friends drinks

- You’d ask the bar tender who is the person buying you all these expensive drinks in which they’d point to Lalo across the bar

- You go up to him to thank him for all the drinks and offer to buy him one

- He’d decline but make small talk and leave his number once he’d leave

- Honestly I think you’d be a bit weary at first since he is older than you but you’d eventually call him

- I think Lalo would be really sweet and take you out on lots of dates at fancy restaurants

- He’s definitely a gentlemen 🥰

Saul Goodman

- I feel like you’d meet Saul when he’s trying to sauce someone up to be one of his clients

- You’d overhear, or more eavesdrop, and become intrigued on who this funny lawyer man is

- You’d strike up a conversation with him and ask him for his business card

- You’d call him up to “ask” him things about law but in reality it’s more of a date

- Saul being Saul would either not get the gist or would think you weren’t interested him in a romantic way

- It would take you literally spelling it out for him, for him to understand 😭

- He’d literally sit there like: 😳🫨

- Although Saul would be busy I think he’d be super sweet and tell you about his day/clients (obvi client confidentiality and everything)

Kim Wexler

- Ugh my love 😩

- I feel like you’d most likely meet Kim because you’d have some late tickets you haven’t paid off and you’d have to go to court

- Kim would be your public defender and try to coach you so you get them lowered

- She’d also try to tell you to try and do community service to put your best foot forward

- I’m not sure if this would really turn into a romantic relationship because Kim is very professional

- Most likely will be the long friends to lovers route like her and Jimmy 🥰

- As a partner, she’d be able to be herself more and let her walls down

- She’d definitely still be more of the extrovert/dominant personality

[elkian]

More about GGG's finale and core plot (that is, BIG SPOILERS BELOW)

One recurring trend is loneliness. King's actions help connect people, and our protagonist continues in her footsteps, but the loneliness of the characters who play antagonists is especially notable.

The God Awards (which I've mentioned before, the whimsy of them made me totally blip over the red flags and implications) mention Inspekta doing everything for them. What would they be without him, Capochin asks?

"Lonely!"

Inspekta gathered the lonely hearts together. Gave them purpose. Gave them a charismatic leader to follow.

Saul is one of the most antagonistic non-Bizzy humans, and a recurring refrain in Milldread is how lonely everyone is. How gatherings are now somehow either discouraged or outright illegal (hmm, wonder whose idea that was). In fact, most of the Milldread citizens only have good or at least compassionate things to say about him.

(Sometimes I feel like the antagonists are shown a little much compassion given the way this plot goes, but it is also important to remember that deprogramming cultists etc. is based around showing compassion and reminding them that the world is not innately hostile to them. And there's only so much a single game can say in the span of a few hours, so, like, I get it.)

In fact, you have to insult Saul twice to progress in Milldread. How do you do this?

One, you get a dog to make a dog noise, and Saul loses it and comes over to harass the dog (and fail).

Two, after this point, he'll say that he "hates that shaggy little man". This is the line you need to give Budd to progress. When he asks for an insult levied at Saul, you can travel the town... and find that everyone has good things to say about him. He's misled, he's actually very sweet, his friends miss him.

It's very telling that the only way to effectively insult Saul to Budd is to use his own words to do it. Even writing this, I realize that this also implies a bit of a persecution complex with Saul - the people around him don't hate him, or even think he's particularly incompetent. They're worried about him. They understand that he's stressed. He was lead astray by a bad element but he snaps out of it (with help) in time to rejoin his community.

And speaking of throwing words back in faces...

Capochin shows a pretty regular skill for recognizing voices when you fling words at him - it's funny, because a lot of people in this game don't, so he's an outlier and that's amusing. In the battle against him, it means you have to work around him - you can't use his own words against him directly.

Instead, you put words in "Inspekta"'s mouth and bring that to Capo.

He shows an awareness, to a level, that this isn't really Inspekta talking. But this realization is a long time coming, and he can't repress it anymore. He can't deny reality when it's thrown in his face, when he's all alone, when nobody wants to work with him anymore. When even his god is only using him, spending more time with the Godpoke, leading him astray.

The Bizzyboys (and Hector; Yugo Limbo said that all of them come from Drain, hence them looking alike(?) ) evoke a very specific type of person, to me: the incel. Or at least, something adjacent. They're all referred to as "he" as Bizzys (I'm of a mind that Bizzyboys are all he/him while Bizzy, as, like, an honorary gender, mostly because it's just a silly idea; though in retrospect it also meshes with the enforced similarity situation). They're all lonely. They've banded together under a mutual purpose, but they don't really support each other.

And when they start to, between Hobbyhoo and BuzzHuzz? When they begin to collaborate, talk about taking a break from all this fash shit "investigating"?

Capochin shuts them down. Hard.

And Patty says he's scared of Capochin, but the other Bizzies say he would never hurt any of them. But when Capochin blows his top, all of them get really timid.

Capochin not getting involved in the violence until there's literally no one else to hide behind is so cliche that it almost just seems like a joke, until I took in the rest of the story.

Playing this game makes me think a lot of Fallout: New Vegas, a game where you can also destroy fascism and avert a cataclysm as a vaquero-themed courier.

One thing that becomes achingly clear in FNV is how the Legion is a cult of personality: it's not just the Legion, it's Caesar's Legion. Legate Lanius is terrifying, yes, but nobody talks about him as a leader so much as a warrior. Once Caesar dies, it seems obvious to me that the entire thing is going to crumple like a house of cards. Caesar didn't leave any backup plans, any true heirs, because the whole thing was his vanity project. There's no point to the Legion without Caesar, and he never once considered that there should be.

Inspekta and the Bizzyboys work very similarly. The whimsy and goofiness of the setting, which we also see in Smile For Me, lead me to miss some major red flags (I am also just. very dense.), which is a known problem in real fascism - the use of cutesy facades to cast absurdity on any claims of propaganda.

Anyways. My point is that the Bizzyboys seem at first to be a group, but are really more underlings in a cult of personality. Everything falls apart when faith in the system - in Capochin, in Inspekta - is lost. And Capochin is the Joshua Graham to Inspekta's Caesar; both of them culpable, both of them seeming in charge, with Capochin primed to take the fall as soon as things go wrong. But he volunteered for that! He wanted to be Inspekta's #1! The right-hand chump! The prime goon! He's getting everything he ever worked for, so don't question the system, Capo, because that's the same as doubting Inspekta. And doubting Inspekta means you're not a good Bizzyboy. Means you're ungrateful. Means that maybe what you have should go to someone who'll appreciate it.

They literally have their names stripped away - and I think the constant belittling and name-withholding of Patty, who genuinely displays real competence and intelligence at points if you pay attention, is a deliberate ploy. You don't want to be like P. You don't want to be a failure. Look at you, earning your letters! You almost have a full name! Not like that loser at the bottom of the barrel. You're a real winner, here.

And you, P? You need to try harder. Look how Alexei has his whole name back for doing hardly anything! How can you fail to get even a single letter back, compared to him? When Patty asks for his name back in Milldread, Capochin mentions solving mysteries - mysteries of "what does Capochin want for lunch", etc. It's silly, but it's also sinister. It's the most overtly self-centered bit of Bizzy lore we get for maybe the whole game. Capochin outright says he comes first and we laugh because of the delivery.

(The videos are fantastic, because they really set up the reveal in a lot of both subtle and unsubtle ways. Even the very first video, where Capochin insults Patty for asking a scripted question, before moving into the answer, is foreshadowing for the constant emotional abuse all of the Bizzys and Patty in particular are subjected to. There's probably much more I'm forgetting.)

Under the whimsy and humor of the game is a very real statement about cults and fascism and the kinds of people they recruit, and how they do it. They amplify the concerns of the disenfranchised and alone, people who have difficulty connecting with a community. They give those people somewhere to belong, ideals to uphold, and targets to gang up on.

Anyways. Good game.

[jesse-pinko]

I know there’s a lot of material for us Walt-haters to work with but I still don’t think we’ve covered how much of a miracle it was that Skyler and the kids got out of there alive when he not only put a target on their backs but also did absolutely Fuck All to shield them from the danger he brought into their lives… like this man is constantly bringing up his family-he-loves-so-much-and-does-everything-for around incredibly dangerous people who will absolutely use that against him (and who also did not ask) bc he needs everyone to know he’s not like the other drug dealers and he needs to reassure himself of his lie that he’s doing this for his family and he needs to be seen as The Provider… he doesn’t call it quits even after his brother-in-law is almost assassinated bc of him and SKYLER is the one who insists they pay for Hank’s rehab w the blood money that almost got him killed while Walter waffles ab it and sulks bc she (demonstrably) thought of a better cover story than he ever could… every time he has a chance to back out of the business he doubles down and when he’s finally exposed and Saul points out that he’s throwing Skyler under the bus by going on the lam he skips town anyway and a neo-Nazi cult breaks into their home and threatens to kill their baby unless she agrees to withhold information from the police… you mean to tell me you have all of this moolah to throw around and you never once over the course of the series thought about hiring an armed guard to discreetly watch over your family 24/7?? Fuck you dude lol

[devildomwriter]

Children Listen, To Hear Sleighbells in the Snow | Others x Reader

2.5 K Words | GN! Reader | CW: children, slight nsfwish

Solomon x Reader

Solomon sipped on his “hot chocolate” as you sat by the fire. Every so often he asked again if you were sure you didn’t want any and you had to reassure him every time you did not want whatever that drink was.

You relaxed on the couch and listened to the pages flip in Solomon’s textbook. Not even during the holidays did he take a break from his magical research.

You focused on the movie which had just been background noise and noticed it was coming to an end so you prodded your husband’s shoulder.

“Hey, Sol.”

“Hm?” He asked still looking at his book.

“The movie is almost over, should we head to bed.”

He looked at his watch and shook his head. “You can rest on my lap if you’d like but we should stay up a little longer.”

“Why? What’re you waiting for?”

“Santa.”

You gave him a dumbfounded look and he laughed and set down his book. “Every year Saul and David stay up for Santa. I thought if we satiated their curiosity they might finally give it a rest and we could enjoy next year peacefully.”

You nodded along. “So…who’s coming?”

“Barbatos.”

You sighed. That poor demon had too much to deal with already. You heard a clatter in the common room and Solomon smiled and held a finger to his lips.

“Right on time.”

You peeked around the corner and saw your sons hiding behind the couch peeking over it to watch “Santa” place their presents. They looked at each other and grinned excitedly, shushing each other.

“They aren’t quite as devious as you,” you noted and he nodded.

“Agreed. I’d have never been caught.”

“Caught?”

“Well….I was going to have Barbatos ‘kidnap’ them for a while and put them to work at the ‘pole’…”

“No,” you glared and he sighed.

“But how else will they learn?” He pouted and you glared at him and grabbed both of your sons by the backs of their shirts.

They yelped and alerted “Santa” who proceeded to scold them for being awake. They apologized to Santa and you carried them off to bed while Barbatos gave Solomon an earful for his terrifying original plan.

Simeon x Reader

All was calm and quiet. The home was dimly lit by the strung lights and you were covered in a thin silk robe cuddling your husband.

Simeon ran his fingers through your hair and kissed your forehead. He gazed lovingly into your eyes and you kissed his lips gently, running your tongue across them.

He chuckled and pulled you in closer, slipping the robe off your shoulder and reaching for the ribbon to untie it.

You hummed happily, but were interrupted when you heard a gasp from the living room. For a moment you were worried your child had snuck into the room but you and Simeon didn’t see them.

You sighed, disappointed you’re Christmas Eve plans were being delayed. Using magic you quickly changed yours and Simeon’s silk robes into a set of pajamas you could wear in front of your children.

You passed by their shared room and saw all but one of them were still sound asleep.

“Simon,” Simeon sighed and you followed him to the living room downstairs.

Simon jumped when he heard the creak of the stairs and his innocent doe eyes turned up to eleven. Simeon shook his head disappointedly and guilt crossed Simon’s face.

You got to the bottom of the stairs to join Simeon who was crouched by your son.

“Simon,” he began gently, “didn’t your mother and I ask that you stay in bed until we get you in the morning?”

Simon nodded and looked down at his fluffy blue socks. “I’m sorry Daddy…” he said, lip trembling.

Simeon shook his head and picked up his son. Simon clung to his dad’s shoulders.

“I forgive you, son. All I ask is you don’t get out of bed again tonight, can you promise me that?”

Simon nodded and wiped his nose.

“If you feel so guilty being caught, don’t do it to begin with, okay?” You suggested to your eldest and he nodded and held up his pinky. You took it with your pinky and shook it.

“Pinky promise,” he yawned and leaned into Simeon’s shoulder, already getting tired.

Simeon put your child to bed and you waited for him under the covers dressed in your silk robe again.

Simeon entered and saw you. He grinned ear to ear and joined you in bed to end the night as you two had started it.

Raphael x Reader

Raphael placed the last gift under the tree. He’d been meticulously organizing them for an hour as you watched him from the couch, sipping hot chocolate.

Your husband had always been very particular about appearances, whether it be fashion, weaponry, aesthetics, or home décor. He liked things in a very specific way that you had yet to decipher even after several years of marriage.

He nodded and finally got back to his feet. He observed the gifts with a tilted head and stood farther away to get another perspective. He smiled to himself and nodded.

“Now it’s perfect,” he decided and you sighed in relief.

“Want some hot chocolate?” You offered.

He looked hesitant until you offered to make it like Solomon does and he accepted enthusiastically.

After making the concoction you brought it out to Raphael who looked disappointed and was staring down the hallway.

“Raph…is something wrong?” You asked and squeezed him from behind. He nodded and silently pointed out the door to your son’s room.

“Rafal?” Raphael called sternly and approached the door which shut loudly.

Raphael sighed and shook his head. “Let me get him,” you offered and opened the door. You found your son hiding under the bed with a flashlight.

You got down on the floor and peered under the dark bed. “Hey.”

“Hi, Mommy.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Waiting for Santa to infiltrate.” He said robotically and rolled the spear out from under his bed.

“How in Father’s name did you…” Raphael muttered and picked up his spear wondering how his son got this. “This was in my armory…”

“Infiltration was all too simple,” Rafal commented from beneath the bed.

Raphael stared at the spear and gave you a confused look. He had no idea if he should be angry or proud.

“Rafal, come on out. We can guard the chimney together,” you offered and he grinned as you slid him out from under the bed.

Raphael gave you a confused look and you shrugged and headed to the living room. Rafal gasped when he saw the presents and jumped from your arms.

“He evaded us!” He exclaimed and Raphael hid a smile until Rafal tried climbing up the chimney and required a bath.

After all was said and done, you fell asleep next to your husband who held Rafal tightly in one arm until he stopped squirming and fell asleep, safe in his dad’s arm.

Mephistopheles x Reader

Mephistopheles grinned to himself, imagining how excited your son was going to be Christmas morning. Christmas wasn’t a holiday that he experienced as a child and he wasn’t sure he should be celebrating at all, but it was part of your culture so he ensured it’d be the best Christmas of them all.

Every year he found a way to outdo the previous and this time he’d bought your son five new horses for his brand-new stable.

Most kids asked for a pony, but not everyone expected to actually get one. Mephistopheles being the kind of father he was, made sure his son would have much more than he’d asked for.

The child was spoiled, to say the least. Spoiled and very, very excited.

So excited in fact, that your butlers and maids had to keep warning you when he left his room so you could avoid ruining the surprise.

Mephistopheles directed one butler to set down the last stack of presents and made sure it’d been set up as it was supposed to when you both heard giggles from around the corner.

The head-butler approached you from behind quietly, “My lord, my lady, young master Claude has escaped his room once more.”

Mephistopheles smiled, “Let’s go settle him down,” he suggested to you and held out his arm for you to take.

You ascended the stairs and heard the pitter-patter of footsteps grow quiet as they ran away.

Mephistopheles smirked and with a snap of his fingers you both appeared on either side of your startled son. He was so surprised his wings and horns sprung forth and he let out a small shriek.

“Son?” Mephistopheles addressed and Claud bowed his head.

“Sorry father. Sorry mother,” he apologized immediately.

“What are you sorry for?” Mephistopheles pressed and you nodded.

Claud avoided your eyes and mumbled.

“Speak clearly, son,” Mephistopheles said firmly.

“I’m sorry for leaving my room when you told me not to.”

Mephistopheles nodded proudly. “Can you tell me why you did that?”

Claud’s eyes sparkled and he clenched his fists excitedly, “Why Santa of course!”

You chuckled and Mephistopheles grinned. “Well then, you’ll have to sleep if you expect to get anything? Don’t you know the story?”

Claud shook his head, “I forgot.”

Mephistopheles sighed and beckoned you to come over. “Why don’t your mother and I tell you again okay? Then you’ll stay in bed, understand?” Mephistopheles asked and Claud nodded.

You smiled and followed your husband to your son’s room where you’d recount the story of Santa once more.

Barbatos x Reader

Barbatos was glad to have you in his arms after the hustle of the holiday season. Finally, you both had a moment to relax. Deep in the castle through the many secret corridors was the room you shared with your elegant husband. The castle might not belong to you but this part of it did. It was yours, your husband’s, and your son’s little paradise.

Every door led to a house, yard, garden, art studio, or some other fun place in the world. But most led to other rooms in the castle.

When you heard one of these doors open, you and Barbatos shot out of bed and ran into the hall.

“Sebastian!” Barbatos called and ran in the direction of the noise. You followed but couldn’t keep up and waited for his word.

When he appeared before you again both he and your small child were soaking wet. Barbatos peeled a piece of seaweed off his shoulder and his expression said it all.

He handed you your sniffling son who stuttered out excuses. “I-I thought it was the door to the living room…”

“No sweetie,” you scolded lightly. “That door moved two days ago.”

“Yes,” Barbatos said sternly. “That specific door leads straight to the bottom of the Mariana trench.” He handed a soft towel to you and you wrapped Sebastian in it.

“Geez, I’m glad you’re okay! Sebastian I’ve told you the doors are dangerous, nothing is worth risking your life over.”

Sebastian cried for a while and when he’d calmed down you finally got the truth out of him. “I just…I just wanted to wait for Santa with Uncle Diavolo.”

Barbatos raised a brow, “what did Uncle Diavolo tell you?”

“I asked what he’d be doing tonight and he said he’d be hanging out with Santa.”

Barbatos sighed. “I believe what he said was Satan. They do sound very similar it’s a common mistake.”

Sebastian looked crestfallen and it broke your heart so you helped dry your son and husband off with magic. They were both good as new and with his anger soothed, Barbatos held your son tightly.

“One day I’ll show you how to master the doors, but not now. Right now you will stay safe in your mother and I’s bed while Santa delivers your gifts.”

Diavolo x Reader

Diavolo was more excited for Christmas than his own children. He sipped his hot chocolate and his foot tapped excitedly as he reached for another sugar cookie you’d iced yourself.

The gifts had been set up perfectly, everything was ready for tomorrow which meant there was only one thing left to look forward to.

Diavolo finished his drink and treats and set his tray aside for a butler to collect in the morning.

He turned over to you who was still sipping the hot chocolate until you noticed his devious grin.

You chuckled at your adorably needy husband and set the hot chocolate down. You’d just have to finish it later. You placed a spell over the cup to keep the contents warm and scooted closer to Diavolo.

He beamed and wrapped his arms around you, trailing his hands up to your chest as he began nibbling on your neck.

You giggled and leaned into his touch moving his hands where you wanted them when you heard the unmistakable sound of your daughter laughing.

Diavolo sat up straight and frowned. “We can leave them be can’t we…”

You shook your head. “They can’t just wander the castle at night who knows what could happen.”

“It’ll toughen them up,” Diavolo argued though he was worried too.

“And how many times did you almost die?” You reminded him as he sighed and relented. You both left your bed chambers and saw your youngest disappear around the corner.

You chased after them and they heard you and quickened their pace.

Your eldest son, Chao, chose not to push his luck and stayed behind when you saw him. Your youngest child, Timeo, hid behind a suit of armor, and your daughter Disarray, lived up to her name.

With a cackle, she jumped over the balcony railing and flapped her wings as hard as she could to slow the fall.

Diavolo wasn’t willing to risk that and dove after her. She was no match for the skill her dad had in flight and he wrapped his arms around her as she laughed and whined in protest.

Diavolo looked up at you, hoping you’d join him downstairs by the tree. You nodded and held your sons’ hands, teleporting you both to your husband’s side.

“Alright kids, what are you doing out of your rooms?” Diavolo asked, already knowing the answer.

“We wanted to see Santa,” Disarray exclaimed and her brothers nodded but stayed silent. This was clearly your daughter’s plan. She was always the mastermind behind anything wild the three of them did.

Diavolo shook his head, “I’m afraid you just missed him,” he said sadly.

“What!?” The three exclaimed in unison.

“But it’s not even midnight,” Chao observed.

“Well, we’re royalty, we get our presents first,” Diavolo made up.

Your children believed him and were returned to bed. Timeo pouted but fell asleep in a few moments. Chao apologized for the trouble he caused and bowed to you as he shut the door behind him. Disarray as expected grumbled for a long time before she wore herself out and fell asleep.

You rolled your eyes at their antics and turned back to Diavolo whose mischievous grin returned.

“So…do you still want to…” he trailed off and you wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“Yes, let’s.”

[thisfanisgonesorry]

keep talking — könig

got into cod because someone told me he was 6’9 and so i told them i wanna 69

tags: light angst, bros injured, smut, dubcon kinda, phone sex except its a walkie talkie. rushed ending lowkey, ambiguous relationship. ambiguous ending ooo. light blackmail, soldier!reader, y/n is watching better call saul (dont @ me), povs might be weird idk

⚠️

“König, how copy?”

Nothing. Literal radio silence.

“König, I’m talking to you. How copy?”

“I’m here.” He grunted after a long period of silence. “Bad copy.”

“I say again. Did you get caught in the crossfire?” 

The battlefield surrounding König had bullet shells everywhere, he laid carefully in the ground, trying to hide his large body from any further incoming fire.

“I did.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“What are your injuries?”

“I’m fine.” He growled.

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know. Too much dust.”

“König, are you in a safe place? I’m gonna need you to stay there until it’s safe enough for someone to get you.” 

“Affirmative.” He panted. 

“I need you to say something, König.”

“Minimal damage, only flesh wounds. A few hits in the right leg.” He grunted in frustration. “I got my vest, I’m fine.”

He laid in the ditch, looking around the empty battlefield, only being able to make out clouds of smoke and dust as gunfire continued from the distance, the fight being gradually dragged away from him. He winced as the blood kept pouring out of his thigh.

He dug his fingers into one of the bullet holes in the pants, using it as a weak point to rip the fabric. His hands were too dirty to try and tend the wound himself, so he turned the leg of his pants into makeshift shorts; pulling the fabric down his leg and using the length of it to make a tourniquet for the wound.

“Come in, König.”

“Scheiße.. What?” He barked into the receiver. “I’m not dying, fräulein.”

There was a silence as he tried to shuffle his large body into the ditch, giving his leg room while trying to stay undetected. 

“We can’t risk that.” I finally said from the other end.

“Then talk to me. I’m not dying. Don’t treat me like it.” He spoke sternly.

“What do you expect me to talk about?”

“Anything. Just don’t mention that I’m bleeding out.”

“The mission—”

“Not the mission.” He snapped again. “Your day or something.”

“Sorry, um..” I paused, lost on conversation.

There was a moment of silence and he groaned at the hesitance before the receiver burst to life again. He felt a pang of guilt as he palmed himself through his cargo pants. He’d been shot at enough times to learn that the fastest way to get rid of pain is to replace it with something better, and in situations where first aid was out of the question for the foreseeable future, this was all he had unless he decided to just put up with it.

“Okay.” I started. “I started watching a lawyer show. It’s really good.” I started rambling slightly about the show until I ran out of information that König would care for.

I tried to jump from topic to topic seamlessly but a one-sided conversation wasn’t easy to keep going.

“I don’t really have a lot of spare time, so I’m running out of things to talk about.” I commented, noticing a lack of response. “König?”

“I’m alive.” He spoke through shaking breaths.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm..” He nodded, despite me being unable to see him.

“I say again. Are you okay?”

“Gut. Ich bin prima.” He spoke. “Tut höllisch weh.” While I couldn’t make out what he was saying, his sarcasm and frustration was detectable from a mile away.

“English, König.”

“Hurts like hell.” He groaned out.

All of his actions could be explained one way or another, his ambiguous silence, his heavy breathing and grunting. From one end it seemed like a man in pain. On the other end of things, he had his head thrown back in the dirt, stroking himself slowly as the words filled his ears.

His breathing was ragged, hissing and panting as he tried to distract himself. He would manage to build his composure when he needed to talk through the comms, but besides that, he was a mess. Whining and grunting as he tried to focus on the sweet voice on the receiver instead of the stinging metal that was sinking into his skin.

He desperately jerked himself off, stroking his dick tenderly. “Keep talking.” He groaned. “Bitte, I’m bleeding everywhere. Hurts.”

“König..?” I began to feel suspicious at his pleas, it was so unlike him to be like this, he’d been shot before without acting this strange, he was swaying between aggressive and gentleness. “Are you..?”

“No.” He answered quickly, to the point where it raised more suspicion. He cringed at his own reaction, realising he sold himself out, and admitting it with his chest bare.

“König.” I said more sternly.

“Ich musste es tun, es tut so weh und deine stimme fühlt sich so gut an.” He groaned, using the wrong head to think, barely comprehensive as he rambled in a language I couldn’t even speak.

I took a deep inhale, his ramblings proving my point. “Say again in english please.”

“Yes.” He managed to get out.

“Yes, you’re jerking off?”

“Musste, kleine.” He panted, and while I still couldn’t make out his words, I understood that he was admitting to it, and by the sounds eliciting from his throat, it was clear that he wasn’t stopping. “Zu sagen dass es mir leid tut wäre eine lüge.”

“König.”

“Please.” He finally spoke out in english. “Please, keep talking.”

“What do you expect me to say?”

“Anything.” He groaned, and there was a moment of silence as we both sat in thought. His harsh demeanour melted quickly, he had no right of way to be a snappy colonel here as the need consumed him wholly.

“Do you expect me to talk dirty to you? Tell you that I bet you’re so hard and aching? That you’re probably leaking everywhere?”

“Scheiße, ja.” He nodded to the blankness of the battlefield, knowing that I couldn’t see his enthusiasm but wanting to express it anyway.

“And that’s all for me?”

“Ja, ja.” He panted out with need. “Need you.. Please?”

I sigh into the receiver and his breath catches in his throat, he gently massages his tip, enough to keep him going but not enough to build any pleasure. Guilt slowly began to consume him but he refused to let that be the other option. He didn’t want to sit in the dirt, bleeding out and crying out in pain instead of ecstasy.

“What do you want me to say?”

“What.. Do you want to say?” He responded carefully, keeping himself calm enough for this conversation to go smoothly. “Please, I’m.. Uh, werde abspritzen.. Orgasm.” He struggled out, his mind going blank.

“You have a lot of explaining to do later.”

“I know.” He groaned. “Tell me.”

I sucked my teeth. “I don’t know what to say to you, König. You want me to tell you how I want you buried deep in me?”

He let out a moan. “That.” He gritted.

“You’re fantasising about how good my pussy feels, right?”

“Ja, gute muschi.” He moaned, and soft slapping sounds began to be audible through the radio. I felt glad that no one else could listen into this line. He muttered incoherencies in English and German, it was hard to keep track of what he was trying to say.

The shame kept threatening to lay heavy on his conscience, though he managed to push it away every time it tried, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t come back later.

“You sound close.”

“Am.” He swallowed thickly. “So sexy. So beautiful.”

“Mhm? Want me to say something about how I fuck myself in my quarters? Gotta keep myself quiet so the others don’t hear me through the shitty paper-thin walls?” I started. “Or how I’m tight because I haven’t got a boyfriend? My Colonel doesn't give me enough time off, y’know?”

The passive aggressiveness was something he made a mental note of, something to save for later to make up for his actions. Right now, he was focused on the orgasm threatening to rip through his body. 

“Mhm, like that.” He whined, covering his mouth and his sounds becoming more muffled. “Scheiße—” The embarrassment in his voice lingered in the line for longer than his words did but it didn’t dissuade him. “Can explain this.. Later. Ah, please, right there.” He managed to curse out.

He panted and groaned, a mix of ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you’ filled the air, surrounded by something or other in german. It was hard to tell what was happening through the walkie talkie, though before I could respond, his dick twitched in his hand, spilling cum from the tip, leaking over his hand and down onto his pants.

He threw his head back into the dirt, trying to regain himself, his afterglow of bliss successfully distracting him, but not enough to not worry about the growing guilt. “Sorry.” He mumbled.

“So.. You can explain why you were out of position or why you were jacking off?”

“Both.” He breathed. “I can do both. I’m sorry.”

“Evac van is on its way, it might take a bit to find you.” I tried to bite back a smile. “You should clean up.”

“I know.” He swallowed. “Thanks, uh.. I’m..”

He sighed, knowing better than to keep apologising, mindlessly wiping his hand on his pants, not caring too much of the stain and trying to reorganise himself. He crawled around the ditch, trying to make his position more obvious to the humvee, he could vaguely see it in the distance.

“Tell me you’re not mad, right?” He spoke through the radio, trying to walk towards a more visible vantage point where the enemy wouldn’t see him if there were any lingerers despite the fact that the fight was most certainly further down the open field at this point.

I laughed through the radio, and the cackle of life it brought to the abandoned field was uneasy as he slowly tried to move towards the van.

“No, not mad, but I definitely plan to use this against you in the near future.” 

[purpledemonlilyposting]

Lorch is talking about writing again...

[Lily's Post]

Where do I even start here?

Okay first lets define what subtext is. Subtext is when a detail or meaning is conveyed indirectly through tone, dialog, character actions etc.

I talked about gay icon Gus Fring in relation to Lorch's thoughts on villains recently. Him being gay is entirely subtext. Even his final scene in Better Call Saul that practically hits people over the head who didn't pick up on him being gay is still subtext.

Gus is not the kind of man to come out and say "I'm gay", you won't see him at a Pride parade, you won't see him decking Los Pollos Hermanos in rainbow flags during June. That's just not in character for him. And yet both shows still, through subtext, communicated to us that Max was not just his friend and business partner but his lover.

(even the name of their restaurant Los Pollos Hermanos is a clue. It was not unusual for old school gays to just claim to be siblings in order to explain away why they live together)

And Gus' final scene in BCS shows him very much mooning over the sommelier he seemingly often chats with at his favorite bar. But we can also see him decide at the last moment to not get involved as his cold, dangerous drug and revenge filled lifestyle won't allow for love to spring anew. None of this needs to be stated aloud.

Okay with that out of the way lets dissect Lorch's nonsense:

So as usual Lorch's opinions on writing all absolutely come down to her not getting it and being bitter that other people do.

Whenever she talks about writing or fandom it becomes clear that the one thing Lorch absolutely can't stand is not being the smartest person in the room. But she has never been the smartest person in the room. So instead she has to decide that things other people understand that she doesn't are just worthless and overused and need to be done away with.

Subtext, worldbuilding, metaphor, lore, they're all just stupid things people use to SEEM smart, because LORCH doesn't understand them and so they must not matter.

Notice she doesn't give a single example of these things. She just starts with the assumption that people only use subtext because they think they have to or are trying to "look smart" and not because, you know, most audience members don't want to read or watch something that's basically the cliff notes of a story like you do, Lily. Subtext can aid in immersion and believability, especially when it comes to dialog.

You don't understand how to make an analogy either I see.

How the fuck is Lorch putting serialization in the same category as subtext and metaphor. Serialization is a method of story delivery, Lorch. It goes all the way back to dime novels and penny dreadfuls.

Something could be completely absent of subtext and metaphor and still be serialized. The fuck are you even talking about?

People don't "understand your point", Lorch, because you don't know what you're talking about and every single one of your opinions just comes back to your inability to understand narrative and your annoyance that other people do. But instead of expanding your understanding you try to control how people engage with and discuss narrative. You haven't deconstructed shit you just rage like a child at writing techniques that have been refined over centuries.

[frownyalfred]

OOOOOH CAN YOU IMAGINE the goons that the bats have bitten with too much force flaunting their scars like a fucking trophy between the criminals in Gotham. The more bite marks you have, the more of an annoyance you were to the bat

“I’m gonna find the kid who bit me,” Leo said, brow furrowed. “Little fucker left a nice imprint in my upper arm, see? Don’t tell me they can’t do some shit with that down at GCPD.”

“No one wants to see your gross fuckin’ arm, Leo,” Paul said, shoving at him one-handed. “Put that shit away and pretend like you’re actually looking at your cards.”

“I am,” Leo insisted, lifting his arm higher for the whole table to see. “Saul, your cousin still does that art shit downtown, right? Can he make a mold of this or whatever?”

Saul rolled his eyes. “Sure. Play a card, fuckass.”

“Bite mark analysis is an imperfect science.”

The room went quiet. One by one, the heads turned to the final member of the table.

“What’dya mean?” Leo asked, squinting. “Imperfect science?”

“Bite marks are notoriously unreliable evidence in court,” Matches Malone said, not looking up from his cards. “The science isn’t just imperfect. It lacks a basis in reality altogether. One mold could be evaluated by two different experts and yield three different results, depending on the way they’re presented. Notoriously reliable with juries though. That I’ll admit.”

“When the hell did you become a lawyer?” Saul muttered, eyeing Matches suspiciously.

“You read that in a book somewhere?” Paul cut in. “Lemme guess. You’ve been watching Dateline again, Matches.”

“That show with all the dead chicks,” Leo said, perking up visibly. “That’s some fucked up shit, man.”

“You got me,” Matches said, shrugging. “Still ain’t real. Good luck getting that plastered up, though. I’m sure you’ll catch your bird.”

“Your bird,” Paul jabbed at Leo’s bad arm with an elbow for emphasis. “You some kinda pedo or something? You want Robin over here to kiss it better?”

“Fuck off, man,” Leo said, growing red. He shoved at Paul, fumbling for his cards. “I’m out. Fuck you all too. Fuck kinda shit you mean, have him kiss it better—”

The door to the alley slammed shut.

“Fuck is his problem?” Saul muttered.

Matches shrugged, glancing down at the table. He flicked at the edge of his card with an oil-stained finger.

“Who’s up next?”

[harrystylesfan2686]

Pieces Part 5

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Az finally gets his chance but not without warnings.

A/N: first of, I wanna say thank you to everyone who supported when things went down with that anon. I love you all so much and I'm so happy you guys are with me. I admit I was a 🤏tad demotivated to write this part but when I reread all your comments and reminded myself how much you guys love this story, I put on my thinking hat and got to work again. I hope you guys like this part!! And plzzzz don't put hate comments on someone's account, for you it just takes like a minute to type and send but for that person it will be stuck on their mind for a long time.

Pieces Masterlist

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Standing in front of your mate's room should be happy and exciting, not anxious and scary.

I finally built up enough courage to come to River House and meet Azriel. See how he's doing and figure out if he deserves another chance. When I told my friends about this, they told me I should do this only if I feel ready to do so, not because I'm felling sympathetic over Azriel.

They're right. And I'm doing this because I'm ready.

I remind myself that when I raise my hand and knock on the door. Cassian told me which room he was staying in, he didn't need to though, I could guess which room it was judging from the fact that it's in the end of the hallway and is covered in darkness when it's still day outside.

Maybe I should've given him a warning before coming and burging in so suddenly... Oh well.

I knock again when the door doesn't open and wait for another five minutes. I frown and step closer to that door. "Azriel? It's me." I hesitantly speak and go to knock again but the door abrutly opens and I flinch back.

There he stands.

The most beautiful male I've ever seen. With bright hazel and wide wings on his back. He's shirtless, standing just in his pants.

Breathing heavy he takes me in, observing me just as I do him. I see exactly what Mor was talking about. His face looks sucked in and body more lean, covered in shadows just as I thought.

But he's still the most amazing male I've ever seen.

I smile softly. "May I come in?"

His eyes widen as though he doesn't believe what I'm saying. I don't too.

I chuckle. "I just wish to talk."

"I-uh. Yes. Of course." He clears his throat and opens the door wider for me come in. He hurriedly tries to fix the room a little, picking up cloths or dishes that were on the floor and quicky takes out a shirt to wear it while I close the door behind us. I stand in the middle of the room and he comes in front of me when he deems himself more presentable.

The room seems a little brighter. He clears his throat again while we stand in front of each other. The awkwardness is clear to the both of us as we wait for the other to speak. He decides to go first.

"You look beautiful." He speaks softly and my heart instanty melts. I mumble a small thanks and stand a little straighter, ready to say what I came here to say. I look into his eyes with a firm expression.

"I've been thinking. This month has been, well, different to say the least. It's taught me that if I have to, I can perfectly live happily with myself. I don't need you to go on with my life." His face falls but he nods. "But I want you." His eyes snap to mine.

"I won't lie. I love you, Azriel. But I will not take you back unless you make it up to me. You broke my heart. You broke my trust. And now, as foolish as I am," I shake my head."I'm giving you another chance. One Last Chance. If you mess up again, that will be it. I will leave and I will never come back. Doesn't matter how much our hearts and sauls ach. Understand?" He nods.

"Words, Azriel."

"Yes! Yes. Of course. I promise you I will never do anything like this again." He looks at me with hopeful eyes.

"Alright. Now rules, first you don't get me back. You have to win me back. Court me, properly. And I will think about it evertime you do something meaningful." He spills out an of course.

"Second, no talking to Elain. I mean, you can talk but you have to make time for me too." I frown.

"You don't have to worry about that. I've already pushed Elain out of my life. The second I came here and she asked of me, I firmly told her that I will never speak to her again. She cried but I don't care. I kicked her out of this room and slamed the door at her face. You're more important." He breaths.

"Third, final rule, this is not a one week thing Azriel. You have to understand that you will have to make up for a long time. I had suffered for an entire year, you have a year to make up to."

"I promise you, my love. I will make up to you. I will win your back. And this time, I won't let you go."

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Tag list: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @going-through-shit @wallacewillow0773638 @kalulakunundrum @cat-or-kitten @pricklepearbloom @bxm-1012 @peachcontour-blog @fxckmiup @ohthemisssery @crazylokonugget @anuttellaa

[noellawrites]

Y Tú, Mamá? Part 2 - Yandere!Lalo Salamanca x reader

part one linked here

summary: you wake up in a strange place and Lalo is the first person you see.

warnings: kidnapping, forced restraint

tags: @jaythegreat @gothams-gotchya @oceandolores @matt-lipstick @joonie7007 @mavericksicybabe

author’s note: the two year wait is finally over! sorry it’s so short. if anyone has any more ideas on how to continue this or what they’d like to see, please let me know! :)

Your evil, sadistic and wickedly smart husband had eyes on you every moment of every day.

And, in your momentary lapse of judgement, you had forgotten that. Lalo never let you out of his sight without a few of his men keeping eyes on you and his precious daughter.

After calling Saul’s girlfriend and setting up a meeting, you walked with Leticia hand-in-hand out to your car.

Before you even knew what was happening, Lalo’s men grabbed you and threw a bag over your head. The last sound you heard was Lettie screaming as your world went dark.

—

You woke up to the sound of birds chirping and children giggling. As you looked around the room, something about it was strangely familiar.

The mix of Southwestern and Mexican artwork, the patchwork quilt on the bed, even the view of the countryside outside of the window.

You looked down at the chains binding you to the bed and realized that this was Lalo’s house in Chihuahua. You were in Mexico.

“Good morning, my love,” Lalo cooed as he opened the bedroom door, a glass of water in his hand.

His unmistakable musk followed him, expensive cologne of tobacco and leather. Your body shook with fear each time he took a step closer.

“Lalo… why are we here? Where’s Lettie?”

“Lettie is fine, she’s with Abuelita and her cousins. Now, are you going to apologize?” your husband said, an edge to his tone.

He crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow as he stares at you. You try your hardest to sit up, chains rattling as your limbs move.

“You don’t understand how hard this is for me, Lalo! I haven’t been able to see my family in years and your family hates me! You treat me like a pet! I’m tired of it!”

“How hard this is for you? Mi amor, I take care of everything for you. You do not have to work. You do not slave away. You simply watch after and grow our little ones,” he stated, taking a step closer.

“I never wanted this, Lalo,” you sighed, tears building up in your eyes.

“So I should’ve left you there, frying chicken for Gustavo? Suffering, struggling to get by?” he scoffed, shaking his head at how stupid you were.

“I don’t want to argue anymore, I’m tired and I’m cramping,” you groaned, trying to adjust and allow your stomach to rest comfortably. Your child seemed to be kicking up a storm in there.

Lalo walked up to you, eyes bearing into yours, and leans in to kiss you on the lips.

“Eduardo Junior should be here soon,” he says with a smile and a gentle rub on your stomach.

“Lettie’s gonna be so excited,” you say softly, trying to crack a smile.

Giving birth to your daughter at nineteen was a traumatic experience, to say the least. Especially with the way Lalo had kept you locked up.

And now, looking down at your chains, you suspected you would be put back under strict watch, though now he had his entire family to keep watch over you.

“Are you feeling okay?” Lalo asked, forehead wrinkling in concern. Before you could respond, he sat down next to you on the bed, resting his hand on the swell of your stomach.

“Yeah, I just— Lalo, do you think you might let me see my family sometime? I want them to meet Lettie and—“

“Mi amor, your family is right here in Mexico. Now, it will be so much easier to see Abuelita, the cousins, and all our nieces and nephews,” he smiled, gently rubbing your baby bump again.

“Lalo,” you said gently, “I want to go back to New Mexico. We can’t stay here, the kids—“

“The kids will love it here. Lettie’s Spanish will improve, they can be around family. I can protect all four of us better out here, hm?”

Lalo looked at you expectantly, and you knew in that moment that you will not be returning to the United States anytime soon. Lalo, the father and husband, always had the last word.