#i really fucked everything up by wanting to be 'my own person'

[nerd-party]

ill try to answer them all:

genevieve, and I like it!

Yep! I can't draw but I do acting and singing

Yes unfortunately

be on stage as a job

Will Campos waved at me once

not right now, my legs are too fucked

being overlooked: seen but ignored for someone else who is just as good/worse than me

Barret Wilbert weed

I can sing, do card tricks, and I can walk incredibly quietly (ninja style)

absolutely fucking not, just TRY waking me up before 10am at the weekend

Only for bf/gfs but I am down for a nickname

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHA YES

I don't watch shows so I'll list one show and movies: good omens, red white and royal blue, the princes bride

not really lol

Me and my friends from all across my friend groups sitting in an oak tree eighty feet high, smoking weed and passing round a bottle of wine that never emptied. We watched the snow fall and the sun rise and it was literally perfect.

nope

nope again

nope x3

unfortunately I am a social butterfly but I wish I could just be on my own sometimes fr

yep! Never used to be but I guess I'm popular now

bite my nails

I always forget I have mascara on so I rub my eyes and I look stupid- I feel open to attack.

Jon if it's a boy, Elisa if it's a girl, and backup name of Ollie/Yasmin/Jasmine

dont have one but DAMN Andrew Garfield fine

music

Dogs but I do love cats

Literally tumbles my only social. I guess ao3?

@valkzzheart

brother, sister, mum, dad. Pretty standard shit

chocolate 🤤

Yep!

YES I LOVE ROLLERCOASTERS

yep, quite well

I have a. DETAILED PLAN. if y'all want me to tell it exactly lmk and I'll divulge my master plan.

yes, a few

Yep!

Pink/blue!

England!!! TOP BINS MATE OAYYYY

Any musical theatre artist!! Or Conan Gray

yes!! It's a big dream of mine but I don't wanna be super famous

Yes I love dresses but I wish it was warmer where I live so I can wear them more

popular from wicked / astronomy by Conan Gray

talking about it in person yes (especially with parents) online no, actually doing it would be a no

like 12?

Yes I do it all the time, Im in a shooting club

Nope!!

i love horror!!

According to my friends yes and I think I'm good too

one time I got really mad at my parents because I was sent away from the dinner table in my old home so I went upstairs and flushed a whole toilet roll down the bog

pretty exhausted

Yes I was actually

i never used to be able to dance but I can now

Biting my nails again

Yes!! I bleached it just so I could dye it

Blue

ferret

Onstage once yeah but it wasn't my fault (mic cut out, I got made fun of)

Yes!

lots!

My main friend group is GAE 🏳️‍🌈

drama

None

sometimes? It varies

pet sematary (1989) FANTASTIC

Not on TV but in podcasting: Normally 'Ly Oak-Swallows-Garcia-Li-Wilson-Marlowe-Swift-The-Unworthy is just like me fr

need to be at the top and extreme competitiveness I force myself not to think about, plus my extreme feelings about fairness

hiking the mountains and going around the world to beautiful places

If I would never die I would start committing crimes

singing aloud onstage and around the house to practice

who I became friends with would change ASAP and my class too

yes absolutely

Late October

My room with all my DND stuff

Did my singing competition auditions!!

an astrophysicist

A stable career and a consistent home life

I usually speak up, I don't think I have a moment like this

I have to get better at everything.

I feel like that already with how many extracurriculars I'm doing bruh 😭

seeing the sights bro

Houses for me and my friends/family, stable education funds for me, my friends, my kids, my family and all our kids. Keep people safe from bankruptcy

The past, instantly. Live in the 80s and 70s forever

a love of acting and helping others

same one from earlier- hanging with the boys committing crimes!!

The woods would be nice but if get bored. The city

Nope. There's no afterlife. It just ends.

my year 6 teacher was the GOAT

playing Lego with my friend from nursery, Aoife.

Einstein so I can get his last words

I don't really know yet. I've laughed so hard I've cried but it's not the same

that some people are gonna think others are better than you and you just have to deal with that. Favoritism is everywhere and fairness is irrelevant.

Nothing.

kill some people probably /hj

run away/defy authority unfortunately

yes, because no matter what people say, looks matter especially early in life. If youre pretty at school you aren't bullied and people like you. I want to give my kid the best chance. (not saying this is a good thing, I hate this but it's the truth)

idk just kinda happened one day

impending doom and my immense hopelessness and just. General sense of emptiness and failure.

exist.

hey that wasnt 100 you skipped 2!!

100 Questions!

Thought these might be fun? Ask me some and I’ll try(I can’t promise) to get something up for you later! these questions aren’t my own

1. What’s your middle name, and do you like it? 2. are you artistic? 3. Have you had your first kiss? 4. What is your life goal? 5. Do you have any expieriences with a famous person? 6. Do you play any sports? 7. What’s your worst fear? 8. Who’s your biggest inspiration? 9. Do you have any cool talents? 10. are you a morning person? 11. How do you feel about pet names? 12. Do you like to read? 13. Name a list of shows that have changed your life. 14. Do you care about your follower count? 15. What’s the best dream you’ve had? 16. Have you ever kissed someone of your same gender? 17. Do you have any pets? 18. Are you religious? 19. Are you a people person? 20. Are you considered popular? 21. What is one of your bad habits? 22. What’s something that makes you feel vulnerable 23. What would you name your children? 24. Who’s your celebrity crush? 25. What’s your best subject? 26. Dogs or cats? 27. most used social media besides tumblr? 28. best friends name 29. who does your main family consist of 30. Chocolate or sugar 31. have you ever been on a date? 32. Do you like rollercosters? 33. Can you swim? 34. What would you do in the event of an apocolypse? 35. Have you struggled with any kind of mental disorder 36. Are your parents together? 37. What’s your favourite colour? 38. What country are you from/do you live in? 39. Favourite singer? 40. Do you see yourself being famous some day? 41. Do you like dresses? 42. Favourite song right now? 43. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? 44. How old were you when you first got your period? 45. Have you ever shot a gun? 46. Have you ever done yoga? 47. Are you a horror girl? 48. Are you good at giving advice? 49. Tell us a story about your childhood. 50. How are you doing today? 51. Were you a cute kid? 52. Can you dance? 53. Is there anything you do that you can’t remember ever not doing? 54. Have you ever dyed your hair? 55. What colour are your eyes? 56. What’s your favourite animal? 57. Have you ever made a huge fool of yourself? 58. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 59. Do you have good friends? 60. Are you close with anyone of the lgbtq+ group? 61. What’s your favourite class? 62. List all the tv shows you are watching. 63. Are you organized? 64. What was the last movie you saw? Opinion? 67. Which tv character do you relate to most? 68. What are some things that stand between you and complete happiness? 69. If you received enough money to never need to work again, what would you spend your time doing? 70. What would you change about your life if you knew you would never die? 71. What would you do differently if you knew that no one was judging you? 72. If you could start over, what would you do differently? 73. Would you break the law to save a loved one? 74. When was the last time you travelled somewhere new? 75. When you think of your home, what immediately comes to mind? 76. What have you done to pursue your dreams lately? How about today? 77. What did you want to be when you were a kid? 78. If you dropped everything to pursue your dreams, what would you be risking? 79.When did you not speak up, when you know you really should have? 80. Describe the next five years of your life, and your plans, in a single sentence 81. What would happen if you never wasted another minute of your life, what would that look like? 82. If you could live forever, how would you spend eternity? 83. How would you spend a billion dollars? 84. If you could time travel, would you go to the past or the future? 85. What motivates you to succeed? 86. What dream that you’ve had has resonated with you the most? 87. Would you rather live in the city or the woods? Why? 88. Do you believe in life after death 89. What teacher inspired you the most? How did they? 90. What’s your fondest childhood memory? 91. If you could have dinner with any one person, living or dead, who would they be and why? 92. What would you have to see to cry tears of joy? 93. What is the hardest lesson you had to learn in life? 94. What do you think happens after we die? 95. What would you do if you would be invisible? 96. What’s something you can’t do no matter how hard you try? 97. Would you want to choose the sex and appearance of your offspring? 98. How did your first crush develop? 99. Is there a feeling you are trying to ignore? What is it? 100. Do you live or do you just exist?

[jayparked]

hii!! congrats on 1k! ^^ can i perhaps get 47 + 75 with jungwon? <33

"jungwon, please! it's too much!" you cry out, tears staining your cheeks while your boyfriend relentlessly pounds into your pussy. he has you sitting on top of the bathroom sink in some random person's house, the music from the party downstairs vibrating the walls around you. it's the one thing you try to focus on in order to hang onto your sanity. jungwon has already made you come twice now and he's showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

he watches the spot where your bodies connect carefully, lips parted slightly as he pants with each hardened thrust. his tongue pokes out to swipe along his bottom lip before he looks into your eyes, his own cloudy with determination.

"not stopping," his words come out ragged as he continues to put everything he has into each thrust, "someone else thinks they can fuck you better? im gonna make you come so many times on my cock that you'll never doubt that i'm the only one who can do this to you. only i get to ruin you like this, you hear me?"

"wh-? what are you talking about?" your eyelids are fluttering now and you're desperate to ignore the way your bruised walls clench around him.

"heard some guy talking about you, eye fucking the hell out of you too. said he could probably make you come in less than five minutes," jungwon scoffs, "well i made you come in one minute. and i bet i can do it faster if we were at home." a darkness flicks across his iris's and suddenly he's gripping you even tighter, moving your legs higher up on his waist.

"i want you to scream my name," growling, jungwon grabs your hips and pulls your body in pace to his thrusts, each one harder than the last and it's a miracle you can even understand what he's saying with the way you're so fucked out.

"th-there are people outside this door. you want everyone to know we're having sex?"

"well, this isn't about them now is it?" he grows more aggressively, lips now attached to your collarbone, nipping and sucking on your flesh until pretty little red marks appear.

you try to hold on, you really do. but jungwon lifts you off the counter and holds you against his body, using his upper body strength to bounce you on his cock while he leans against the bathroom wall. the squelching is getting louder as your ability to hang on dissipates.

"fuck! yes! jungwon right there! oh my god jungwon please!" you dig your nails into his shoulders and flex your leg muscles around his waist, his pace still not letting up.

you were doing just fine until suddenly, jungwon's voice drops to a lower register, his tone even and demanding, "that's it baby. tell everyone i'm the only one who can ever make you feel this good."

suddenly, without any warning, you're releasing on his cock once again, his name leaving your lips with a scream that rips through the house right as the music goes silent between changing songs.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[tjwritesfanfics]

Three's company (Spencer Reid & Chip Taylor)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (ft. Chip Taylor)

Summary: Spencer finally says yes to your request for a threesome and you choose his twin brother, Chip.

Rating: Mature 18+ only

Warning: Threesome, oral (male receiving), masturbation, p in v sex (Unprotected. Guys you know the drill. Be safe)

Words: 983 (Not a long smut sorry)

Main Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Other MGG Characters Masterlist

“You can tell me”

“No, I really don’t think I can.”

Spencer ran his fingers over the skin of your hip, enjoying the view of you post orgasm. The topic of different things to try in bed came up and when you thought about it, you knew you couldn’t bring up your wildest dream… again.

Spencer doesn’t share well. He never really has, but when you asked to have a threesome he hesitated and when he said he would think about it, but it depended on who it was, and you said his twin brother, he flipped.

“No way! I won’t share you with my brother.”

His words echoing in your head even now when your brain is on a high from the new thing Spencer learned to do with his tongue. Sometimes bringing up the idea of watching porn with your boyfriend was beneficial.

“Is it the threesome thing?” Your silence was enough of an answer for him. You could see him enter a deep state of thought, genuinely thinking of if he wants to share you with not only another person, but his own brother. His TWIN brother. The men in his family were really good at giving, a fact he was unhappy to know about his father and brother, and what if Chip was better than him? 

Though he doesn’t know what makes you weak in the knees. He could try with all his might, but Spencer would be the end for you… Right?

In the end he knew he would give into your desire, even if he wasn’t that comfortable with it, because Spencer would give you the moon and the stars if he could.

hich is how he found himself agreeing to your request. Your squeal of happiness was the immediate reassurance that he made the right decision, but then a few days later when you were on your knees, in HIS favorite purple lingerie no less, sucking on his brother’s dick, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“After all that happened to you, Chippy, I just want you to feel worshiped.” Was the reasoning you gave to Chip as you slid down to your knees in front of him, wiggling your hips for Spencer’s view from where he sat in the recliner you requested be in the room, and undoing Chip’s jeans.

You whimpered at how hard he was already, the tip a bright red. And without warning you had swallowed Chip whole, his brother’s head falling back and letting out a loud moan.

Spencer smirked a little at the sight, knowing how warm and wet your mouth was and what it was like to experience it for the first time, despite the little green monster sitting on his shoulder telling him that he should tie Chip up and make him watch as Spencer fucked his woman into submission.

But all he could do was palm his erection to relieve any form of pressure. He told you that he would go along with this and do as you wanted.

And right now you wanted to devour his brother’s cock while he seemed to lose his mind.

“Oh fuck!” Chip moaned, his hands searching for a perch in your hair, gripping harshly which caused you to moan around him, the vibrations sending him over the edge, his cum spilling into your mouth.

You pulled back, swallowing what you could before turning to Spencer, opening your mouth to show him that you finished your meal.

“My good girl always knows how to please, huh Chip?”

Chip nodded, his cheeks flushing at the authoritative voice that came from his twin. While they were the same in looks and everything, they were also so different. Spencer was smart and Chip was a bit dumb, sweet, but dumb.

And it seems that they were also different in the bedroom as well, Spencer seeming to stay in complete control despite the little minx currently crawling towards him and crawling into his lap.

And Chip? He came so fast that it was almost embarrassing, but no one had ever had their mouth on his dick before. He wasn’t used to the sensation.

But one thing was for certain, he wanted more. Though it was Spencer’s one rule, no fucking his woman, he wanted to defy his brother and have you.

He wouldn’t, because he respected Spencer, but god did he want to. Just the thought of taking your tight little pussy had him hard again.

Your mewl pulled Chip out of his thoughts, his eyes seeing that Spencer had already started what he wanted to do, panties of the lingerie pushed aside, his brother’s cock buried deep inside of your cunt as you rode him with all your might, which even to Chip he could tell that it wasn’t for you.

Spencer’s smile said that he noticed Chip’s stare and as if it was what he was waiting for he planted his feet firmly on the ground and fucked up into you. You screamed at the sudden force, falling forward and submitting to Spener’s assault.

Chip couldn’t stand it anymore as he wrapped his fist around his cock, pumping in time with his brother’s trusts. Faster and deeper, Chip couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spot where Spencer’s cock disappeared, the wet slick of your pussy glistening in the dim light.

The three of you moan in sync, the sensation becoming too much to handle. Chip came first, his cum spurting from his tip and over the floor, you shortly after, Spencer’s assault of your G-spot having you seeing stars.

A few more thrusts and Spencer came deep inside of you, painting your insides white with his release.

As much as he hated to admit it… That was the hottest thing the two of you have done in the bedroom in a long while.

Maybe Chip can join again, but only on his terms.

(Banners by cafekitsune)

[concreteangel92]

Bubble Baths & Blanket Forts

Noah Sebastian x female reader

No warnings, all fluff

So this idea was inspired by the lovely fluffy messages I had last week, in particular @lma1986 and @collisionsofyourkissmakeitsohard and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it so here we are 🖤

I still have a load of requests in my inbox and my own works to try and get through over the next few weeks. It’s been manic in my personal life recently so writing might be a bit slower, we shall see but as always, thank you for your support and patience!

Although I’m thinking a smutty part 2 of this could be needed 👀

Permanent taglist: @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @fadingangelwisp @theanarchymuse95 @w0manof-flesh44 @dream-machine-love @thisbicc @amelia-acero @badomensls

Permanent taglist is new so if you wish to be added then let me know ☺️

Masterlist

It had been a bad day, a really bad fucking day. Everything that could have gone wrong, had gone wrong and you were so fucking done.

You’d been messaging your boyfriend about how shit your day was and how you couldn’t wait to get home and just curl up and forget about the world.

You walked up to the front door of your flat that you shared with Noah and put the keys in the door, thanking whatever god that was listening that you hadn’t dropped the keys because you knew that would be the cherry on top.

You opened the door and was immediately greeted by the most beautiful smell coming from the kitchen.

“Hey babe I’m home”

You threw your keys and bag on the side and hung your coat up, instantly feeling better knowing that you were at home.

You heard Noah’s footsteps coming from the kitchen.

“Hey beautiful”

You looked over and saw his smiling face as he walked over to give you a kiss and cuddle hello. You wrapped your arms around him and held onto him while you buried your face in his chest.

“I’m so glad to see you”

Noah kissed your head and squeezed you into him.

“Yeah you said it was a bad day today, want to talk about it?”

You shook your head.

“No, to be honest, I just want today to be over”

You pulled away and went to walk into the living room but Noah blocked your way and started to lead you down the hallway.

“You don’t need to go in there, I’ve run you a hot bubble bath so you can have a soak before dinner is ready”

You stopped and looked up at him in awe.

“Really?”

He smiled. “Really angel, I’ve just finished setting it up in there so go and relax and I’ll call you when dinner is nearly ready”

You leant up and pulled his collar slightly so he came down to your level for a kiss.

“You’re incredible do you know that?”

Noah had a playful look on his face. “I know, I’m brilliant. Now go get that beautiful backside of yours in the bath”

“Don’t fancy joining me?”

Noah smirked and gave you another peck.

“Not this time baby, tonight is all for you”

You smiled and turned towards the bathroom while Noah headed back off to the kitchen. When you opened the door, the sight nearly brought you to tears.

The whole room was illuminated by candles all around the room and around the bath. You could smell one of your favourite bath bombs coming from the water and you could see the steam still rising. You could hear your favourite music playing softly and folded up on the side was your comfy pyjamas, ready for you to put on after.

You stripped out of your clothes, tied your hair up and walked over to the bath, lifting one leg, you dipped your toes in first to test the temperature which was perfect and then you climbed in and lowered yourself down, not being able to stop the moan falling from your lips as the hot water instantly soothed your tense muscles. You let your body relax under the bubbles and shut your eyes.

You don’t know how long you stayed there for, it felt like an eternity before you were disturbed by a gentle knock on the door and Noah’s face coming into view.

“Hey baby, how are feeling?”

You kept your head rested on the back of the bath. “I feel so much better, thank you”

Noah smiled and grabbed a big fluffy towel and held it open to you.

“I’m sorry to say that you’ll have to come out now as dinner is nearly ready”

You nodded and reached down to pull the plug to let the water drain before you stood up, the bubbles clinging to your body.

Noah stepped forward and wrapped the soft around your body before he helped you step out.

“What’s for dinner by the way? I forgot to ask”

“Your favourite”

Your eyes lit up as you looked up at him.

“Steak?”

“Yes with all your favourites. Get yourself into your comfies and then meet me at the table”

You nodded, the smile not leaving your face, how could one man be so perfect.

You dried yourself off and got dressed, your body feeling so refreshed after such a bad day.

After making sure you blew out all the candles in the bathroom, you walked down the hallway and into the kitchen/dining area where you had the table set up.

All ready on the table was your dinner, which smelt absolutely divine and the table was set up with more candles and fresh red roses in a vase in the centre.

You honestly thought you could cry, Noah had thought of everything.

“I can’t believe you’ve done all of this”

Noah walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close into his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

“You said you had a bad day angel, I just wanted to make it better for you”

You leaned back into him, feeling so safe and secure in his arms.

“It’s incredible babe, thank you”

You feel him press a kiss into your hair and then he leads you over to the table, pulling your chair out for you and making sure you were comfortable.

The food was incredible, you both ate in a comfortable silence with the odd conversation here or there but mostly you were just enjoying sitting down together.

Once dinner was over and your food was settling, Noah cleared the plates away and came back over to you.

“I have one more surprise for you”

You looked up at Noah with a bemused smile “What? But you’ve done so much already!”

Noah gave you his million dollar smile and took your hand in his.

“I’ve saved the best until last”

Noah walked you down the hall and stood outside the living room door, now realising that he’d been stopping you from entering all night.

“Ok, close your eyes baby”

You smiled and shut your eyes. You heard him open the door before you felt his hands gently cover your face as he walked you into the room.

“Ready?”

You nodded my head, the anticipation running through your body as you heard him whisper “open” into your ear and he released his hands.

You opened my eyes and the breath was caught in your throat.

Noah had built a huge blanket fort around the room. Blankets all of sizes were tied to each other and hung up high to create a tent like den in the middle of the room and you could see fairy lights hung around the entrance.

“Oh my god Noah! You built this?”

Noah blushed and nodded.

“Yeah, I remember you said once that you used to build these all the time as a kid and loved hanging out in them, so I thought I’d bring that back for you”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you took it all in.

“Can we go inside?”

Noah laughed and wiped the tear away.

“Of course we can angel, this is all for you, we can shut the rest of the world out in our fort, no problems allowed in”

You laughed and hugged him tight, feeling his arms pull you closer to him.

“You’re perfect Noah, you really are”

You grabbed his hand and went over towards the entrance, Noah lifted up the small blanket that he’d used as the ‘doorway’ and you saw inside that he’d used even more blankets and loads of pillows to cover the floor and he’d even hung fairy lights inside to give a beautiful glow and made it all warm and cosy.

You crawled in, feeling Noah right behind you. You could just about sit up inside, Noah definitely struggling more due to his height so you lied yourself back amongst the pillows and curled yourself up into Noah’s arms.

“This is the best night ever”

Noah smiled down at you, you felt him absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair or over your back.

“I’m glad you like it angel, I hope I’ve made your shitty day better”

You lean up and press your lips to his.

“What shitty day?”

His smile matched your own as you both got comfortable, getting lost in the conversation and feeling safe within each other’s arms, knowing that nothing could prenatal your very own little fortress.

[anim-ttrpgs]

I want to provide an example of a dungeon crawl for the people who have only been exposed to dungeon crawling through shitty D&D5e modules or bad games of telephone about what classic dungeon crawling looks like.

I’m gonna try not to go into too much detail just because if I do, I’ll be here all day and night because this campaign is so good and all of the characters have so much depth but I still have to give context. (welp, i made it pretty fucking long anyway, but I think it paints a clearer picture that way.)

This is an mildly homebrewed* AD&D2e “troupe campaign” with rotating DMs starring a fictional band of mercenaries called the White Company(not to be confused with the actual White Company or the other fictional White Company) in an alternate history 1390s-1430s England with elves and wizards and shit. I’m really getting to put my Masters in medieval history and culture to good use for once. There’s a rotating cast of characters, as parties are formed from the larger pool of characters in the White Company to undertake mercenary jobs.

*one of the biggest homebrew rules we use is that there is no magical resurrection. Instead of dying instantly with the expectation that they can be magically revived later, characters who fall to 0 HP must receive medical attention from somebody who has the Healing skill immediately, and make a Constitution-based roll to see if they can pull through. If they don’t die, they still permanently lose 1 point of Constitution and must spend weeks or months recovering before they can fight again.

This is happening in a real 1979 D&D adventure module, adapted slightly to fit our setting, but it’s still genuine classic dungeon crawling. The DM is sticking closely to it and just presenting the sandbox for the PCs to do stuff in.

TL;DR: (also spoilers. Skip the TL;DR if you want to read this as a narrative without knowing what happens)

A classic dungeon crawl is not just a dull slog through a bunch of rooms full of monsters and back-to-back boring slap-fight combat. One may encounter:

>yes, monsters, definitely. Some will be out in the open, some will ambush the party, and some will be easy to ambush by the party, but rarely is fighting and killing them the only option. Combat happens either when the party screws up, or when they initiate it on their own terms.

>other adventurers looting the same dungeon

>hidden treasure

>monsters that are basically a trap and puzzle themselves and can’t be fought by just making attack rolls at them

>monsters that can be talked to and negotiated with

>environmental storytelling that can also be hints about hidden traps, monsters, etc.

>boobytraps

>secret doors

>plenty of moments for the characters' personalities to shine

(END OF SPOILERS)

The White Company is currently under the employ of a certain castillan who is having to fight against a pretender to his claims to his lands. The lord that this castellan owes fielty has noticed that a certain village has stopped paying their taxes, and asked the castellan to deal with it. The castellan told the White Company, currently on his payroll, and the White Company sent a small group of mercenaries to either investigate or rough the peasants up until they pay. (Medieval mercenaries nor classic D&D adventurers were exactly heroes. Members of the White Company have engaged in some real moving acts of heroism in this campaign but that’s a different story.)

The White Company party consisted of 8 PCs, because AD&D expects bigass parties. We‘ve had parties of up to 13 PCs before in this campaign, because this is before D&D got embarrassed about its wargaming ancestry. This might sound scary but honestly AD&D2e does not make it hard for a player to play multiple characters at once. It’s expected.

Anyway, they passed a ransacked wagon on the road while traveling to the village. When they got to the village, everything was just fine, no great plumes of smoke or burninated peasants. So they asked the village headman what the deal was, and he was like “What do you mean? We sent the taxes last week.”

Well, that was the ransacked wagon. Here I’m going to start really fast-forwarding.

The White Company mercs did some investigating and found out who sacked the wagon, kicked their asses and ran them off, and discovered just the slightest hint that there was more to this story..

More investigation, a discovery that there’s a greater conspiracy afoot, a fight with two spies that left Elora the Elf bedridden under the care of the local barber-surgeon after getting stabbed in the gut(one party member down.)

Fast-forwarding more. They discover that the old abandoned fort that’s full of monsters is actually where a contingent of the bad guys have made their forward operating base. This abandoned castle is supposedly full of monsters ever since the calamity that made everything full of monsters but that’s another story too. God I’m bad at brief stories. Anyway the bad guys have some tricks for avoiding the monsters on their way in and out apparently.

So, it’s time for the White Company to assault that abandoned castle. That’s a dungeon, and now it’s dungeon crawling time. Using a huge amount of money they found during the investigation, they subcontract some more mercenaries, a party from the Badger Company, and also convince the village headman to levy some peasant militiamen.

Now the party is 24-strong, almost half of that being archers.

I’m fast-forwarding some more. They had a little.. incident where they ran into a group of adventurers trying to loot the place, mistook them for the bad guys, and shot two of them with crossbow bolts. Luckily, and due to the medical skills of some of the party, those two survived, but one of them will be on crutches for a while. After that embarrassing misunderstanding, they find the way down into the lower floors of the castle, but before they go, they want to make sure there’s no chance of anything coming behind them, so they investigate every room on the upper floor. Ordinarily, going around provoking everything in a dungeon and having back-to-back combat encounters would be inadvisable, but they’re 24 men strong. They find a room full of giant rats and shoot them to death with crossbow bolts. They find a giant lizard thing asleep on a rock and shoot it to death with crossbow bolts. They find a giant snake in its nest and shoot it to death with crossbow bolts. Then a giant tick drops from the ceiling and bites into Abigail, the youngest White Company member present, right through her mail armor. They stab it to death but its sucker thing is buried deep in there and they can’t just pull it out because it’s got barbs. She was at very low HP after the initial bite and just ripping the thing out could easily nick the artery and kill her. Luckily, Herr Rike(Fighter-Thief) and all around unpleasant woman, is also a barber-surgeon, and several of the spellcasters can provide a limited amount of magical healing. She had to strip down while the men averted their eyes and stood watch. While Abigail, teary-eyed, bit down on the shaft of a crossbow bolt, Rike was able to carefully cut the thing out of her, with magical healing coming right after to ensure that this doesn’t, well, completely disable the use of her arm. After a few moments of recovery (accelerated by the magic), Abigail got dressed again, and soon had the gruff men of the Badger Company clapping her on the back and congratulating her for making it through that. “We’ve all been there!” “Yer a real mercenary now!” “That’ll put some hair on yer chest, figuratively!”

(I’m making sure to include all this stuff in detail to dispel the myth that “dungeon crawling means no roleplaying.” That part kinda was “back-to-back combat” but only because the party went out of their way to find every monster, all of which could’ve been avoided otherwise.)

Each of these encounters lasted like 1 combat round and less than 15 minutes of real time even with that many characters, because AD&D2e combat doesn’t fucking suck.

There was some treasure to find too, pretty valuable stuff, but for the sake of this not being even more overly long the only thing I’m going to mention is a large jug of lamp oil.

Descending the stairs, a man and woman of the Badger Company were suddenly dropped down on by two acidic green slimes. The party quickly discovered that these could not be conventionally attacked, especially not while they’re clinging to the distressed Badger Company members. Slicing and stabbing the slimes with swords does nothing obviously, and risks further injuring their allies.

Thinking quickly, Abigail has the idea to try scraping and shoveling the slime off with her shield, which kind of works, and everyone with a shield follows suit. The slimed Badger Company mercs survive, managing to avoid total disfigurement too, but are in no condition to continue. Their armor and helmets and weapons have been ruined by the acid and they’ve lost a lot of skin. Everyone whose shield was used to shovel off the slime also lost their shields as the acid ruined them.

The man and woman that got slimed had to go up stairs and wait for the return of the larger group, it was a really good thing that the party checked every corner of the upper floor and killed anything that could be a danger to two unarmed and critically wounded people. Herr Rike was the one who told them to go upstairs as she poured water over their wounds, washing away acid and chunks of melted skin, and, sarcastically in her horrible voice, said that everyone would vouch for the woman’s virginity.* Herr Rike’s voice “sounds like a saw.”

*In the Middle Ages, an unmarried woman’s virginity was pretty important to her societal respect, and if she was left alone with a lone man for too long, someone may call her virginity into question. Of course the joke here is that everyone knows that no matter what, they aren’t going to get it on while bits of their skin are still sliding off. None of the Badger Company thought it was very funny.

With the slimes pooled on the ground, they were hardly a threat, they’re super slow and you could just sorta step around them, but they still needed to be dealt with to not become a problem later. Herr Rike went back upstairs and got that jug of lamp oil and poured it on and around the slimes and lit them on fire. That killed them.

So now the party is down two fighters and nearly all of their shields.

It’s dark down here obviously, and several people are carrying torches. Going is a bit slower in the poor lighting. Herr Rike makes a Detect Noise* check. She hears something like faint grinding of stone to the east. This huge band of armed and armored men coming into the castle has definitely made a ton of noise, so Rike’s impression of this sound is that the bad guys have heard them coming, and hid behind some kind of secret door in the stone walls. She tells everyone to keep a look out for any weird cracks in the walls.

*AD&D2e doesn’t have Perception like D&D5e. If it’s in front of them they can see it, if it’s making noise they can hear it, if it stinks they can smell it, etc. However, characters of the Thief class can make a skill check to listen closely for the chance to hear extremely faint sounds that wouldn’t normally be audible.

They check a few yards to the west first, finding two sturdy doors with fine, brand new inset locks on them. Rike tries, but fails to get through these in any way, so they move on to the south and find a long hallway full of cell doors. In the cells are months-old rotten corpses with visible wounds in most of them. It doesn’t look like the starved to death. The stench is almost overwhelming so they turn back and go north to the last door.

To the north they go through a room filled with, like, garbage. Dirt, broken bits of wooden furniture, rotten animal hides, and even what might be feces. Everyone is checking the ceilings carefully now too after the tick and the slimes, and this ceiling looks like it’s on its way to caving in, but not any immediate danger. They go to a door on the far end of the garbage room and open it. All the while, Herr Rike is checking for traps both passively* and actively. There don’t seem to be any traps, but the stench of the next room still hits them like a wall and makes Abigail and some of the others gag. It smells like “unwashed flesh,” in modern terms, it smells like a Magic: The Gathering tournament in there. Rike is unphased, and hisses out into the darkness “Come out, I can smell you.”

*Like I said before about perception, the main way to check for traps is just the player asking the DM “does my character see any weird stones on the floor ahead? Can he see a tripwire behind the door? When he opens the door, can he nudge it open with his sword while standing to the side in case anything shoots out?” and so on, but Thieves can also make skill checks to passively notice them on top of that.

After a few seconds, there’s a loud, low growl from the far corner. “I can smell you too..”

An enormous, grotesque figure steps into the edge of the torchlight. He’s easily nine feet tall and looks like if you took an already large man and stretched him out in all the wrong ways. He’s wearing a loincloth and a huge cape of animal hide, and carrying a full sized halberd that he’s big enough to use as a one-handed weapon. He scrapes it along the ground menacingly, making a horrible sound, but not the same sound that Rike heard earlier with her Detect Noise ability.

Rike doesn’t back away, but holds her crossbow casually in the crook of her arm. They’re about 10 feet from each other. She says in her hoarse, raspy whisper. “So, you can talk. Do you have a name?”

The hulking monster growls his answer. “Lubash. Do you?” He sounds almost as bad as Rike.

“Yes.”

“Hmph. Rude not to answer..” he grunts in annoyance.

“What are you doing down here, Lubash?”

“I guard this place for the people here. Eat people who come in.” He grins, showing jagged and pointy teeth. “Great gig.”

“Congratulations. Do you know who you work for, Lubash?”

“Do you?”

“No, we’re here to find that out.”

“Good luck...” He grins again.

“Thank you, Lubash. Are you going to get in our way?”

Lubash Points his halberd towards the doorway where Rike stands, looking behind her at the dozens of armored men carrying swords, polearms, and crossbows. “No. I go out there, I die. You come in here, you die.”

“We can agree to those terms. Where do that door behind you lead?”

“That’s my pantry.”

Rike nods. She’s not 100% sure that she believes him, but there’s no dice roll for that in AD&D2e, so it’s up to logic and the DM’s description of Lubash’s body language. She decides that even if he is lying, that she would rather not press him and get in the way of that halberd until she has exhausted all her other options. “One more thing, Lubash. Do you know your bosses are holding out on you?”

“How?”

“There’s a dozen corpses in the cells down the hall. They aren’t letting you eat those?”

“No, those aren’t mine, here before I got here. Nasty, rotten.”

Rike attempted to weaken Lubash’s trust with his bosses, but seemingly to no avail. She said goodbye to Lubash and closed the door, then she sprinkled more of the lamp oil all around the floor and flammable objects of the garbage room, and left the other door to the garbage room just slightly open, propping the jug up on top of it, so that if Lubash tries to follow them, he’ll get a nasty splash and then go up on flames at a brush with one of their torches. Plus, the shattering of the jar would alert them.

Now despite the smell, the path of least resistance was south, past the wall of cells with dead bodies in them.

Rike moved forward, noticing nothing out of the ordinary except a greater amount of dust in the mostly empty room further down compared to the rest of the place so far, as if no one had been down there in a long time. It wasn’t exactly *obvious* in hindsight, but she should have known better still. As she stepped into the room down the hall, there was a faint flash of light as she seemingly crossed some kind of invisible line, a magical trap! Someone with more knowledge of magic might have been able to see more of the signs if they were in front, but it was already too late. There was a shuffling sound from the cells as all twelve of the corpses rose to their feet. Most mercenaries immediately realized what was happening, and everyone quickly readied their weapons, falling into formation shoulder-to-shoulder with the archers and spellcasters in back, and three men in reserve watching the doorway with the jug in case Lubash decided to try and make a move for them while they were preoccupied. The line was close to the cell doors, with gaps where every other man stood a few feet back, creating mini chokepoints and kill zones at each door where each one corpse would trickle through and have to fight alone against three mercenaries rather than meeting them all at once. Ceridwen, a druid spellcaster, cast a spell, Fairy Fire, which highlighted the first row of walking corpses in the dark, giving the party a bonus to attack rolls against them.

The dozen walking corpses stood and shambled forward slowly enough that the mercenaries got 2 rounds to act before they were upon them. They shot a volley of crossbow bolts and arrows. The projectiles sunk deep into rotten eye sockets, chests, and shoulders, but at best it just made some of them stumble. Another volley. Even more hit this time, with a couple of criticals for what should’ve been massive damage, but the undead just kept walking forward until they reached the line of spears and swords. In mechanical terms it seemed that they took reduced or possibly even zero damage from piercing attacks like crossbow bolts.

Both players and characters started to get pretty nervous as we started rolling for all these melee attacks and it started to seem like despite stabbing big holes in them with spears and slicing off hands and arms with swords, the undead just didn’t stop. It was the last melee attack of the mercenaries’ round that finally “killed” one. One of the mercenaries using a quarterstaff managed to crush one’s head against the stone wall and it finally stopped moving. Seeing this, those that had them, which was quite few, switched weapons to clubs, thinking that the only way might be to bash them with bludgeoning damage. After another round, another corpse was “killed” with a sword, but it’s still possible that they only take half-damage from slashing weapons. Chrysanthemum, another White Company fighter, brought her weighted grain flail down on another corpse, shattering its skull with such force that flecks of bone sprinkled everyone around. She let out a girlish squeal of disgust.

Piercing weapons were definitely a no-go after one of the corpses just kept walking down the shaft of a spear after being impaled, and grabbed the spearman’s neck, pulling at it until it ripped a small hole in the front, dropping the man into a pool of blood. Another woman was hit so had in the head by one of the corpses unnaturally strong blows that she would’ve surely died if not wearing a helmet. She could still stand, but had to swap out, an archer from the back drawing his sword and stepping in to take her place. One of the other militiamen grabbed the bleeding man and hoisted him backwards out from under the feet of the melee, where Ceridwen quickly got down on her knees to bandage the wound, even though it seemed futile. For his trouble, as his attention was momentarily averted, the militiaman who pulled him back was lunged upon and grabbed into a bear hug by another corpse. He could hardly yell as three ribs cracked in quick succession.

Rike beat that one’s skull in with her baton until it loosened its grip, but she and Abigail still had to pry its arms off before the critically wounded man could be dragged off the front line. With was another round of chopping and beating the remaining corpses down before the coast seemed clear.

The whole combat sequence lasted maybe 6 rounds, and took about 45 minutes of real time, even with over 30 combatants total to make rolls for. It was a nail biter, and would’ve been much worse if the mercenaries hadn’t made such good use of positioning and formation.

Rike quickly went to see to the wounded with Ceridwen. Putting her ear to the crushed man’s chest, she could tell that he hadn’t punctured a lung, but it would still be best to move him as little as possible. She then set to helping Ceridwen carefully clean and bandage the other man’s neck wound. She tended to him last because, having seen the wound happen, she knew that if he hadn’t bled out of suffocated before she got to him, that would be the only indication that he could be saved.

It might as well have been a miracle. The wound exposed part of his trachea, but just missed the jugular and carotid. As long as it was kept clean and bandaged, he had a chance to live. The men cheered and praised God as loudly as they dared to in this place.

As Rike stood up from him, she commanded four of the men to make a stretcher out of an old tent and carefully carry the crushed man upstairs. She jerked her head to the side to indicate the bleeding man, the motion just for an instant shifting her mail gorget and helmet’s visor enough to expose the rough, pale scar tissue across her own throat, speaking in her raspy whisper of a voice. “He can walk.”

The party regrouped after taking the wounded men upstairs. (Again, really really good thing they made the call to hunt down and kill everything on the upper floor.) This hallway was the furthest east they had been, but it seemed to be a dead end. Rike and Ceridwen set to work looking for that secret door. It took about half an hour of searching (in game time, like 1 minute of describing their actions in real time) before Ceridwen found something. She pulled it, and a wall nearby slowly slid down, exposing a narrow passageway.

The funny thing was, the sound of that secret door opening was absolutely not the sound that Rike hear with her Detect Noise ability earlier either, and the dust and cobwebs beyond indicated that this secret passage had not been used in months. So, like, even though they thought they heard a secret door, they were wrong, and it’s only through dumb luck that they stumbled upon this. Like a broken clock.

That’s where we left off in the last session.

Sorry that was long as fuck but I hope this paints a clearer picture of what a classic “dungeon crawl” is actually like to those of you who have never experienced one.

Oh and if you’re wondering the DM told us later that those walking corpses take normal damage from Slashing and Bludgeoning attacks but always 1 damage from Piercing attacks.

"D&D can do anything" and "I don't like dungeon crawls, I enjoy real role-playing" are two statements that often go hand-in-hand and the ironic thing is that the latter statement betrays a very shallow understanding of role-playing while being really snobby. What's even more hilarious is that it's like baby's first RPG elitism, like yeah most people go through a "I like real role-playing" phase but to go through it while putting on airs about the dungeon game while at the same time dismissing dungeon games is real funny.

Anyway, wherever people pick up the idea that dungeon-crawling, the playstyle most supported by D&D, is somehow pedestrian, it very quickly leads to bargaining, like surely if dungeon-crawling is actually bad and for babies then D&D must be capable of so much more, right? Well, truth is, not really, D&D kind of sucks for things besides that.

Where a lot of people go wrong at this point is contending that therefore D&D must be flawed as a role-playing game: like, if it actually kind of sucks for most playstyles besides dungeon-crawling and we've already decided that dungeon-crawling isn't real role-playing, then surely D&D must be bad as a role-playing game?

The issue of course is that most people don't ever interrogate their starting assumption of dungeon-crawls being bad. And truth be told most people who claim to hate dungeon-crawls have never actually played a dungeon-crawl. At most they've played a dungeon-crawl themed linear succession of combat encounters. (I remember this: once when I posted about dungeon-crawls being good, actually, someone responded with a "well I can see the appeal but personally I couldn't enjoy a game that's just back-to-back combat" which is a whole misunderstanding of dungeon-crawls as a genre.)

Anyway so the great thing is that once you re-examine your assumptions about what counts as "real role-playing" and conclude that a dungeon-crawl is as much real role-playing as whatever the fuck Critical Role is doing then you find whole new vectors of being a snooty blowhard and it rules. You can make fun of D&D players in so many new ways,

[ghostgirl-22]

artrick phone sex

I gotchu, my love <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! First time dynamics, angst, Art has avoidance issues like me.

Apologies this may be too long and full of my own personal angst I fear.

—-

“Art?” It’s Patrick.

Art feels his stomach sinking and now he wishes he’d avoided his call, again. He rolls over on his bed and looks at the sparsely decorated wall of his dorm room. It’s his first time talking to Patrick since… since…

He shivers and tries to put it out of his mind.

“Hey,” Art says and clears his throat. “What’s up?”

Patrick chuckles.

Art shivers again. Did his voice always sound that way? Or is Art just crazy still? He’s been really crazy lately. It’s been two weeks and he’s still…

“Really? What’s up?” Patrick mimics. “That’s all you have to say?”

Art shrugs for the benefit of no one but himself. “What—um— what’s wrong with that?”

“Oh I don’t know…” Patrick hums and then he sighs. “Okay fuck it. I’ll go with it. Are you okay?”

Art is still anxious, his stomach still uneasy. It’s just Patrick. His oldest and closest and best friend and yet he can’t relax. He can’t settle down and they're just talking on the phone. He can’t imagine seeing him in person when he inevitably shows up to Stanford again to watch Tashi play. Everything is different now.

“I’m fine, Patrick.” He lies.

“But you don’t want to talk to me?” Patrick sounds weird. Worried? A little. Disappointed? Probably. Sad? Definitely.

Art sighs, he doesn’t want Patrick to be sad. “No I— I’ve just been busy. We had finals last week. And um…. practice has been crazy. I’m um… I started seeing this girl and—” he hears Patrick huff a laugh but barrels through, ignoring it. “Sorry I missed your calls.”

“And texts,” Patrick adds.

“I’m sorry,” Art says again.

They’re quiet for a while. Art turns back to look at the tv. He was watching Sports Center, they were talking about gymnastics. Apparently there had just been some kind of qualifier competition.

“Who’s this new girl your seeing?” Patrick asks. This time Art can’t tell what his tone is.

“Uh well she’s nice, pretty. She’s actually not on the team. She’s an English major.”

“Sounds hot,” Patrick says, flatly.

“Yeah, she’s um— she’s nice,” Art says. “Are you—are you high?”

“A little. I won’t lie. Me and the buddy I was telling you about we smoked a couple and then went and got tacos and Margaritas. So fucking good. Who knew Dallas was a food town?”

Art laughs. He begins to relax, this feels more like best friend stuff. Maybe he was overreacting. Avoiding him for two weeks. But of course that wasn’t the only reason Art was avoiding him. “What happened to your match?”

“Uh well— I lost again. This shit is so fucking rigged.” Patrick complains.

“Dude that fucking sucks,” Art says. He sits up on his bed and looks around for his own weed stash.

“Yeah, it’s fine though. I’m going against this guy tomorrow, stats are all over the place but I think I can take him.”

“Whats his name?”

“Moussa or Mousso… I can’t remember but he’s French. Kinda hot, actually.”

Art feels his stomach flip flop again. “Uh… so what about Tashi?”

“She’s good, she actually answers my calls. I mean not tonight but she told me her cousin would be in town so…”

”Do you want me to beg for forgiveness or something?” Art says, smirking.

Patrick takes a breath and doesn’t say anything while Art is rummaging through the bottom drawer of his night stand. He finds the baggy he was looking for and sits up on the bed, legs crossed as he opens it.

“I’m sorry but I was honestly busy.” Art adds when Patrick still hasn’t said anything.

“Are we ever gonna talk about it?” Patrick asks.

Art stops moving. His stomach begins doing all kinds of things again.

“Look I don’t want to… I don’t want it to be weird,” Patrick continues. “I can do whatever you need. If you want me to pretend I didn’t fuck you… okay fine. But you have to talk to me because I’m going fucking crazy.”

Art stares at the television but he’s not seeing anything. He gives up on the weed and tosses it on the nightstand. “Yeah um… okay.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Art mutters. “I’m— we can talk.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No,” Art says. “I—“ he lays back down on his side and looks at the wall, pulling his knees up. He wishes with everything in him that they hadn’t done it in here. In his fucking bed.

He’s got it on a loop playing in his head all the time. Patrick crawling between his legs. The way he looked, hair still damp from the shower, freckles all over, pupils too big, blue eyes all sparkly. How he smelled, like vanilla soap and cigarettes. What he sounded like, voice so much deeper and softer than normal, saying stupid things like “You’re so fucking pretty”, “Gonna make you scream my name,” and then moaning when he got it in.

And how it felt.

God.

How it felt.

That’s the part that stays with him. How much it hurt. And then how much it didn’t hurt at all. By the end Patrick was touching something inside him and he was seeing stars. In between consciousness and some other plane of existence is how good it felt. That was the silly part. Feeling like he wanted it again and again and again.

He let Patrick do it again in the morning. Patrick’s arms wrapped around his waist fucking him on his side while he stared at this wall his whole body blooming with pleasure. And then just sitting with it for the rest of the day. The ache. The stretch. The feeling like everyone could tell. Patrick left that afternoon for the airport, sent Art a text. Well that was fun. Which he ignored. Called him that evening. Also ignored.

Art had been trying to avoid thinking about it ever since (it was impossible). He’s thrown himself into school, tennis, he’s even tried to talk to a new girl. It didn’t go anywhere. In his worst moments he’s even tried to flirt with Tashi. But then he remembers she’s fucking Patrick and his mind swings right back around to the way Patrick fucked him. And that makes him more crazy because now he doesn’t know what the fuck he actually wants.

And every fucking night, late at night he’s lying in bed staring at the wall touching himself over and over… thinking about it.

He doesn’t know how to say any of this to Patrick.

“Did you die?” Patrick asks, dryly. Even now since they’ve been on the phone, just hearing Patricks stupid voice is making Art’s stomach hurt, and his cock fill up.

“No… I’m just confused okay,” Art says.

“About what?”

“I don’t know.”

”Did you hate it?” Patrick asks.

“Not really,” Art murmurs.

“You’re so fucking full of shit,” Patrick groans.

Art sighs and realizes he just mindlessly put his palm on his cock because of how gravelly Patrick’s voice sounds. And fine. Patrick can make him crazy all the way in whatever fucking city hes in however many fucking miles he is away from Palo Alto.

“I’m sorry if I don’t know how to feel. I’ve never… I’d never done any of that before.” Art says quietly.

“And yet you practically begged for it in the morning.” Patrick says softly.

Art swallows thickly.

“I can’t get it out of my head.” Patrick continues. “The way you were rubbing against my dick before you even woke up properly. Fuck. I can’t get you out of my head.”

Art’s rubbing himself now. “I can’t either,” he sighs, he’s starting to lose it again. He feels silly. Too silly to care if Patrick can tell.

“Yeah?” Patrick sounds eager, breathy.

“It was… I still… I still feel it. Is that crazy?” Art says quietly.

Patrick takes a deep breath. “Fuck. You drive me so fucking insane. Are you fucking touching yourself?”

“’m sorry. I just…” Art says, closing his eyes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Art knows he’s never gonna recover from this but right now it doesn’t matter. He would stop if he could but he can’t.

”You still feel me?”

“Mmhm.”

“Feel me stretching you? you’re so fucking tight I don’t even know if it’s all gonna fit,” Patrick says, his voice sounds like it did. When Arts eyes are closed it’s almost like he can feel Patrick’s breath on his skin.

“Ah—“ Art gasps, grabbing himself properly. “I like the stretch.”

“You love it.” Patrick says. “You don’t even want to wait. Don’t want me to take my time, you’re just so eager you’re pushing that pretty ass back on me.”

“Yeah,” Art gasps, he rolls onto his back and puts the phone on speaker, letting one leg fall open as he jerks himself. “It feels so good—when you fuck me. Its too much. Im too full please… please I don’t think I can take anymore.”

“Oh you fucking liar,” Patrick moans. “You can take it baby. I know you can. You’re a little cock slut already and its only your first time. Fuck. You’re so tight.”

”So tight,” Art says mindlessly as he tries to ease two fingers along his ass, the way Patrick had done before he entered. “I wanna… I want you to… I—I miss you.”

”I miss you too,” Patrick says. “If I was there I’d have you on all fours taking my dick all night.”

“Ah—mmh— Patrick I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ Art cries. The fingers are enough… even dry.

“Come on, yeah… fucking come on my big fat dick sweetheart… come on.. nngh…” Patrick moans.

It’s enough. Hot strings of pearly white are suddenly spurting out of him and spilling everywhere, on his fingers and clothes. On the bedspread. He’s breathless, as his whole body goes lax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… I need to be in you again, gahhh..” Art can hear Patrick’s bed squeaking wherever he is and then he’s groaning loudly, and gasping through his own orgasm. “Oh god, oh shit… that was…”

“Yeah,” Art says breathlessly, looking up at the ceiling.

”Mm don’t fucking ignore me again,” Patrick says.

As relaxed as Art feels right now. Distantly, the pit in his stomach is returning. “Patrick… are we… I mean… are we still gonna be… friends?”

“Yeah of course,” Patrick says, easy. He yawns. “Always.”

Art feels tied up in knots but he can tell Patrick’s relaxed, sated, relieved even. If anything he’s going to be asleep in five minutes. No point getting any deeper now.

“You wanna fall asleep on the phone or—?” Patrick asks, yawning again.

“No it’s… it’s fine.” Art says. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Mmkay. Sweet dreams.”

Art bites his tongue to keep himself from saying something fucking stupid that he can’t take back. The line goes dead. Art stares at the ceiling for a minute, the three words he can’t say platonically to his best friend who he’s now fucking, are flitting about in his head. And Patrick wonders why he’s confused. He grabs his second pillow and pulls it over his face. He’s so fucked.

[the---hermit]

how I take notes on non fiction books

I recently made a post on my study method, and decided to make a whole separate post on my note taking method. The structure of the notes I write doesn't vary too much from my lecture notes to things I might have to read. A couple of useful informations you might want to know before I start actually talking about note writing is that I am mainly focused on studying history (tho I have had other humanities exams in my degrees), and that I study for oral exams in which the material is mainly composed of non fiction books, but sometimes include articles as well as lecture notes. Somehow I have also failed to mention that I am speaking about HANDWRITTEN NOTES. I only do handwritten notes, I don't work well digitally, so keep that in mind. And with this being said brace yourselves for a very long post. The bullet points I will be making are not really in a specific order and I will be including a few pictures too.

The first step when I am working on the materials for an exam is to figure out in which order I will be reading (and writing notes) the books. This hasn't really much to do with the notes themselves, but it's important to know which of your materials is more general and what other things go more in depth, so that you don't struggle too much while studying. Another plan related thing I always do is to write down each chapter of the book I have to study on my bullet journal and how many pages it is so I can plan my studying more comfortably. If the chapters are very long, and divided in subchapters I sometimes also write those down.

The goal of the notes I write is to fully take the place of the book, so they tend to be very detailed and long. I do this because the very act of writing is part of my study method, and working on things I have written down in my own words is just much better for the type of learner I am. So basically I read the book only once, then it goes back on the shelf and I work exclusively on the notes. This means my notes need to be detailed and well organized.

My method is to read a chapter, underlining important stuff as I am reading, and then right after I am done reading I work on the notes for that chapter before moving onto the next. I do this because it makes the note writing more effortless, I am fresh with informations I just read and I basically just need to skim over what I have underlined.

On underlining, since it is so important. I underline everything I will be including in my notes, it might seem much as sometimes it consists of full paragraphs, instead of key words. But this is okay because my notes I don't just copy and paste.

To create useful notes you need to be re-elaborating the informations. You need to read, understand what you read, and be able to write it down using your own words. That way the notes will be easier to review, they will often be composed of shorter sentences, and by doing so you are also actively making writing part of your studying and not just a mindless activity.

Personally I don't work well with full pages summaries, I need the text to be visually broken into sentences/small paragraphs, and I use a lot of symbols as well as abbreviations.

Symbols and abbreviations are in a way part of your very own language when you are writing notes, you tend to develop these with time, but they are so useful. I personally use different types of arrows, all caps words, position of the text in the page, different methods of highlighting and abbreviations (usually for words that come up often like country names, for example Italy becomes ita, France becomes fr, etc.).

Your notes need to be useful for you, they don't have to necessarily be comprehensible for another person (which means you can and will fuck up sentence structure because sometimes skipping a couple of words makes the notes shorter and still understandable), and they do not have to be pretty. They should be as tidy as possible, but again that might change from person to person, I have some very messy looking notes that make total sense to me. With time you'll learn what works best for you.

I have a visual memory so as I mentioned titles, highlighters, all caps, the placement on the page and other similar things are very important in my notes. I cannot fully exapain some of these things because some definitely only make sense to me in the moment (like the words I choose to write in all caps, or the way I highlight things).

I like to have a clear chapter and subchapter break (so that in case I need to refer back to the book it's super effortless). I like to write those with a red pen, usually the chapter title is in all caps and the subchapter in coursive, but it really depends.

I use only two highlighters in each set of notes yellow for dates, and the colour I associate with the book/the subject of the book (I have synesthesia I don't make the rules when it comes to colours). This of course might change depending your preferences and on the element of your notes you want to focus on. I like to have spacific colour for dates and time periods, because of course while studying history that is a fundamental element. If you are focusing on other subjects you might want to have a specific colour for names, or other elements.

I like to leave a big side margin to add either key words (especially in lecture notes since they might be messier and jump around informations more often), or additional information in a second time (sometimes it happens, after you read another book, or attended a particular lecture you have to add a couple of sentences and I rather have a blank space that never gets used rather than no space at all for emergencies).

I honestly mentioned everything that came to mind right away, but since note writing is now basically a mindless skill I have been practicing for years I surely forgot about something. I might end up adding to this post in the future or write another one. My note-writing method has also changed a lot thought the years from high school to university, it's a skill I have been perfecting for the past decade. This to say that depending on what you are working on things might change, and by experimenting with different things you might find out things that work very well for you. If you have any questions on specific things I didn't mention or that wen't clear my inbox is always open and I am more than happy to help.

Since this post is already very very long I am adding the pictures below the cut

Example of a page of notes before and after highlighting

Example of symbols and structure of the notes and the way I highlight things (in which you'll hopefully be able to understand my handwriting, and in which there might be some spelling errors but alas that often happens in my real notes as well so if there are any it's for the sake of accuracy lmao). If I end up adding informations on the margins I always use a pen of a different color so I can tell which informations I got from what source (ex. main notes from lecture, colorful notes from additional article).

Example of messier notes in which the main text in black are the notes I took during lectures and the additional colorful text was added while writing the materials (I rarely do this, it usually happens when the lectures follow a book precisely, which happens when we have to study books or summaries written by the professor). As you can see I often use post it notes to add more writing space, and sometime I even use them to create visually separated sections. If I end up adding some drawings I also usually like to have them on post it notes so they stand out more (and if you are wondering why the hell would an history student need drawings it's usually either because I need a map or a region/state to mark things out, or when studying for archaeology exams I often needed visual references, for example to identify different types of vases or decorations).

[thatbitchery]

Very few things in this world will do you more harm than living around radioactive material. Second on that list is being a pick me. For any group of people.

That face girls make when they realize being a feminist doesn't mean being a girls girl to me and I am NOT. *YouRe NoT a GirLs giRl* babygirl yes obviously. What I look like playing with you just because we have similar anatomy lol. I am a me girl. I'm loyal to my goals and my paycheck. I'm not a ride or die I'm a ride and the second this stops being good for me Imma kick you out of the car lol. My loyalty is to my goals and paycheck. I put the self in selfish.

Nice girls finish last. Pick me's don't even finish at all. They lose the game at the starting point. They lose even before participating in the game. We alll know how it goes down for girls that cater to the patriarchy and misogyny in the hopes that they will be spared and protected from it (hehe). Let's talk being a pick me for the girls. The other day I told you to stop being a pick me to your *roots* because your own people will turn on you for clout, like Jlo did with the Bronx and remember what India did to Priyanka Chopra when she was trying so hard to be liked by them and accepted and then she moved to Hollywood and decided fuck all that and now she's *ouR bRown QuEeN rEpResEntiNg Us So cLasSy*. See how they didn't try that crap with Aishwarya Rai? See how they don't do that with Lupita Nyongo but see how they drag Tyla? She's trying to stay true to her roots and her roots are going on talk shows to call her an industry plant. Pick Me ism never works. When you leave, leave. They already hate you for leaving you won't win them back. And being a pick me for the girls is not different at all.

This girl I know is really inspirational. She made it out of the ghetto on her own, and not like me that got some scholarship and naturally just grew into it- clawed her way out of the mud. Beaten things that would probably kill me. I look up to this lady like I'd look up to a god if I believed in one. She's everything you'd want in a business woman. Class. Beauty. Sophistication. The bank, all hers. The problem with her, is growing up without female support and therefore craving female validation to the point of sabotaging her own self. Pickmeism for the girls. So if she wants to do something but the girls don't approve she won't. I've been shopping with her once and she was eyeing this set of lingerie that she OBVIOUSLY wanted but acted like she didn't and I know it's because her girls wouldn't approve. So the tea is this guy in this other group is obviously head over heels for her. She's obviously into him. They make a great match. Even a blind person can see this was orchestrated by God himself. He asks her out. They go out. A set of annoyingly perfect people. Annoyingly. Gorgeous, classy, successful, aligned. She is gashing about him . He is gashing about her. Mentally I'm preparing for the wedding because obviously it will happen. A few weeks later one of his friends want to know what he did to upset her because she blew him off. Huh. I'm baffled and obviously I'll ask.

One of her friends want him.

😂

I'll say that again. One of her girls is into this man so she can't break *girl code*

😂🚮.

Im like please be serious right now. You are a twenty seven year old woman I need you to act like it. The man on your dreams was dropped on your doorstep wrapped in glittery pink ribbons and came out with your name the only thing he can say and you're blowing it off because one your your friends want him?? 😂. Girl that's what they call a high value man pls all of us want him be for real right now 😂. Every single man that will be worth you we will all want pls 😂. You are the kind of woman that can only rightfully get with a man every other woman wants are you blind 😂. Girl he's a six foot unit of a simp with daddy's money and patek fillipe and had you in Ralph Lauren on your first date and Greek godliness and THAT IS YOUR TYPE . Be serious right now and call that man 🙏 😂 and have us in yachts next summer are you joking. Like if you don't call him I will. Your type is the most desirable type on earth every man you want we will want what are you on about 😭. Every man that ends up with you is immediately high value because being with you makes them high value we will want them too what 😭. What kind of fuckery is this call that man rn and get your dream family.

She can't. She's a girls girl 🚮. I'm like okay so will you marry the least desirable gay man on earth or? Because every man has some girl into him will you just drop them? If he hurt you I will be the first to make you leave. If he even sleeps and dreams that he has a dream where he is dreaming that he's dreaming of hurting one cell in your body I will personally excavate you from his space. He is not. He worships you. I have heard this man talk about you. I have seen the way he treats you. I have seen how much you like him. You have similar goals and similar values. You are who we pray to be. You are our vision board do you not get this.

She won't. She won't hurt her girl.

Well our brother in Christ is- like I said- annoyingly desirable so after asking and asking and trying to get with her he gets- get this- with one of her girls. Not even the one that *wanted him* lol. A rich girl heir that knows to play this hypergamy game and obviously people go where they were wanted- last night they got *engaged*. They are not friend groups that I'm really immersed in so I don't really care. My girl calls me crying because she was *betrayed* 😂. I hang up after she gets three sentences in because what fuckery is this? Oh no you swam and now there's water on your skin. If it isn't the consequences of my own actions. For some reason I always expect the people that have had the hardest lives to understand human nature the best and be the most street smart and I hate how often I get disappointed. As a business woman do you really not know your loss is someone's gain. Be for fucking real with me right now. You got played by some girl in the game that YOU chose to engage in and now you're shocked? It's a game someone has to win and you fumbled your chances, go home. So anyway *her girls* created a WhatsApp group to plan the wedding and didn't include her because she overreacted to the news and she should be happy for her bestie because she's a girls girl 😂. Not very girls girl of her to feel betrayed 😔✋.

The feminine is the most apex of predators. At some point you have to realize yes men are bad but women are just plain malicious. At some point you have to realize and accept that human beings are animals and females have a higher chance of survival despite being the weaker sex. Like one of these days you need to learn to connect the dots please. Getting played by a man I can accept it's a completely different game and just by existence we are two different types of players but ma please. Pleaseeee. Being played by men hurts because innately the playing field is not level but female to female I will be laughing at you, what's your excuse 😂.

The reason women like Hailey Bieber will always win in this happiness thing and Selena Gomez will always lose is the level of pickmeism. WhO iS tHe BiLLiOnAiRe who had a disease highly linked to stress. Who is always depressed. Who seems more pathetic. Who has the stronger name. Who, pray I ask, is always yapping about being in pain. EXACTLY. The end of Taylor Swift's pickmeism marked the beginning of Taylor Swift as a powerhouse and marked her *I'm the Music Industry* era. And she has never been a pick me for men has she? Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks have never tried to be relatable so they go down queens of the runway how is that going for Kendall? Gigi Hadid is also a nepo baby but does she try to act relatable? Which one gets dragged more?

One of these days you have to understand being a pick me for women is still being a pick me and only works when you're an underdog. Once you make it they will tear you apart because women are more competitive than men are and naturally are worse predators than men ever will even dream of being. Men love each other , remember that one trend where they were being asked if they would rather snitch on their homeboys or cheat on their literal wives and they chose cheating on their wives? Because men needed to be in herds to hunt. Women can survive solo they don't rely on community that much so we can tear each other apart with zero to low consequences to ourselves. If men were non communal and selfish they would've been wiped out by the other predators, women will win a literal lion over by being motherly we literally don't need anybody to survive so we can tear each other apart with no consequences. Women are vicious, please. Seriously vicious, have you seen your MOTHER. The woman that BIRTHED you. How she treats you. Your own mother that you are not in competition with. If there's no random girl hating on you it's because you're ugly it's really that easy. You're ugly and you're not worth competing against so they can score humanity points by being kind to you. Bad bitches have opps. When you don't know who hates you and you're a bad bitch look out, they're snaking under the covers. You do it too it's not like you're holy. A woman's only competition is other women. Not men. We don't compete with men it's useless. We are our only worthy opponents so we tear each other apart for sport. Do you not know what an apex predator means?? Like , how long have you been alive? Is this your first interaction with other women?? The reason movements like feminism and 4B and the rest don't really take off en masse is women destroy each other for fun. Men do it for survival we do it for sport. That is why we have to biologically be nurturing, so we don't completely wipe out this species.

Wtf is a girls girl. Yes girls support girls between a girl and a man I don't care who is right I'm always on the girls side, but woman to woman pls. Woman to man? Idc right or wrong she is right he's wrong women are always right men are always wrong this is the law everyone that thinks otherwise should get shot in the head. Woman to woman though? No. I know you, because I know me. And I pick me always.

[wonderl3ss]

Fantasize

Pairing: pro hero!Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader

Warnings: (not proofread) SMUT! Praise, degradation, pet names, (baby, slut) unprotected p in v, use of y/n, not exactly cheating but he breaks up w his gf for reader; homewrecker reader.

A/n: I absolutely in no way condone cheating or going after someone in a relationship; everything I write is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only — It does not reflect any of my personal preferences. That being said, this is, once again, inspired by an Ariana Grande song.

Katsuki Bakugo was not a stranger to you, nor were you to him. Infact, you’d been decently close friends since UA. You’d never harboured any sort of romantic feelings for him back then as he was too immature for your liking. Now, however, he’s different, he’s grown.

Not just mentally, but physically too. He’s huge; 6’2 and pure muscle. He’s matured into the number 3 pro-hero. Everyone wants a piece of him, but, unfortunately only one person is lucky enough — his girlfriend.

You’re jealous of her. It should be you getting manhandled and fucked dumb by him, not her.

These feelings didn’t happen until a few weeks ago when he was on some talkshow being interviewed. He looked incredible. He was wearing this tight, black shirt that left nothing to the imagination. You could see every single dip and bump of muscle. It had your pussy throbbing.

Until the interviewer asked him about his love life and he’d confirmed he was taken. There was something about the fact he was unavailable that made you want him twice as much. No, you needed him. And you’d do whatever it took to make him yours. Whether his girlfriend knew or not, you didn’t care.

Currently, you, Mina, Eijirou, Denki, Hanta and of course, Katsuki and his girlfriend, are at some bar in the middle of town getting drinks and catching up.

You’re all a little tipsy and [un]lucky for you, the alcohol has gone straight to your pussy. It also doesn’t help that Katsuki looks insanely good. He’s not wearing anything fancy or inherently sexy, just a regular black t-shirt and some slightly baggy jeans. But, to you (and your pussy) he looks incredible.

He’s at the bar talking to Eijirou, with his girlfriend stood at his side and a beer in his hand. You’re sat at a booth with Mina, she’s chatting about something but you’re not listening. All your attention is on said blond.

Mina has no idea about your infatuation with Katsuki, but she’s bound to know after tonight. The way you’re looking at him isn’t hiding anything. She knows that look. She knows you.

“He’s taken, ya’know,” she says. This catches your attention; you know who she’s talking about.

“I know,” you simply reply. What else is there to say? She doesn’t need to know your plan, atleast, not yet.

“So why’re you looking at him like you’re a predator and he’s the prey? You’re not seriously gonna go after a taken man, are you?” She knows you can and will.

You just look at her, the expression on your face saying ‘he won’t be taken when I get him.’ Mina just shakes her head.

“Where’d this come from, anyway? This sudden want for Katsuki?” She takes a sip from her cocktail, her eyes never leaving yours.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “But I’m gonna get what I want… I always do.” You look away, closing your eyes as you finish up the rest of your own drink.

Mina just laughs. You both know what you’re doing is wrong but neither of you care. Mina won’t say it but she never really liked Katsukis girlfriend anyway, so she couldn’t care less if you break them up.

You look back over and Katsuki and he’s on his own. You guess his girlfriend’s in the bathroom and Eijirou is talking to Denki or Hanta. You stand and nod your head toward the bar where Katsuki stands as if to say to Mina ‘I’m gonna get another drink (and my man.)’

Mina smiles and stands too, but makes her way toward whenever Eijirou is.

You get to the bar and order yourself another drink.

“Want one?” You ask Katsuki, “my treat,” you smile.

His answer is short and sweet, a simple, “sure.”

So you order him another beer; you know which one is his favourite.

“You know, I could be a lot better than her,” you’re not subtle with what you’re doing. You know what you want and you’re going to get what you want, there’s no point in beating around the bush.

At first, he’s taken aback by your words. He wasn’t expecting this from you, however, he can’t say he’s disappointed. You’re attractive, and he’s not going to deny that he’s thought about you in a sexual aspect before. He just wasn’t expecting you to have thought the same about him. Despite the fact his girlfriend is all but a few steps away, he decides to flirt back.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?

“Oh, really?” Your drinks arrive and he takes a swig. “I don’t know… I think she’s already good enough,”

You take a swig of your own drink, it burning slightly as it goes down your throat, but it only makes the fire in you hotter.

“Guess I’ll just have to show you sometime. I can offer a lot more than she can, in more ways than one,” you smirk at him, finally making eye contact.

He just lets out an ‘mhm’ while returning the smirk. You can sense a fire in his eyes. He’s actually thinking about it.

You peer over his shoulder and see his girlfriend is making her way back over. You take this as your cue to leave and go find Mina, you give him a wink, making sure his girlfriend doesn’t see — not that you care if she does.

You spend the rest of the night talking to Denki and Hanta, occasionally looking at Katsuki only to find he’s already staring at you from over his drink.

A few weeks later, a tonne more days of flirting and you know you’re so close to getting what you want. Just one more day and it’ll be yours, you can feel it.

A little birdie told you (Denki, ever the gossip) that Katsuki and his girlfriend have been going through what can only be described as a ‘rough patch’. Supposedly, he’s not been paying her as much attention as before. He’s distracted.

Now, all you need is the confirmation that they’ve officially broken up.

And it doesn’t take long.

It’s time for one of your weekly meet-ups, and lucky for you it’s at your place this week. You’ve got Katsuki right where you want him.

Everyone has turned up already, except for him.

You’re sat around your coffee table, laughing and sharing anecdotes about your week when he finally arrives. Alone.

Eijirou, his best friend, is the first to speak up about this. It’s not any secret within your group that somethings going on between Katsuki and his significant other, but nothings actually been said out loud about it, until now.

“Hey, man! Nice’a ya’ to join us, your girl not coming?”

“Nah, we broke up,” BINGO. The one thing you’ve wanted so insanely bad has finally fallen right into your hands. He’s yours.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Eijirou rubs the back on his neck, afraid he’s now made it awkward.

“It’s cool, don’t worry about it.” Katsuki shrugs and makes his way toward where you’re all sat, and he sits down right next to Eijirou, which also just so happens to be opposite you. You stare at eachother; you both know what’s going to happen after everyone leaves.

The night continues on and you and Katsuki have been giving eachother ‘fuck me’ eyes. You’re sure everybody’s noticed, but neither of you care.

Finally, the night comes to a close and everyone is beginning to leave. You’ve waved Denki and Hanta goodbye already and are chatting to Mina as Eijirou announces that he’s heading home. You all give him your goodbyes and now it’s just you, Katsuki and Mina left.

“Go get your man.” Mina leans in to whisper toward you. She turns away and gathers up her stuff, giving you one last wink and a smile before also leaving.

The second Katsuki hears the door shut he walks over to you, you look up at him and he speaks, “gonna show me now?” He’s referring to what you said back at the bar a month ago.

His hands find your hips and yours reach up to wrap around his neck; you’re so close you can feel his breath on your face. You smile, then waste no time in clashing your lips together.

The kiss is heated and rushed and Katsuki ends up backing you into a wall, this eliciting a small noise from the back of your throat akin to that of a moan.

His hands slide lower, down to your ass as he lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his hips and the friction between you becomes unbearable. He’s pressed so close to you that you can feel his boner growing right on your clit.

He breaks away from the kiss only for his mouth to latch onto your neck, sucking a bruise there. You moan and attempt to grind yourself down onto him. You need him inside you, now.

“Kats… bedroom,” you mutter breathlessly. You don’t have to tell him twice before he’s carrying you into your room and throwing you onto the bed, and hovering over you.

“Been thinking about this for so long,” he whispers before kissing you once again. You don’t think you’ve ever had anyone kiss you this good before.

He begins to unbuckle his belt and you sit up on your elbows to watch. The second his jeans fall onto the floor your eyes are on his boner. The thin fabric of his boxers doing nothing to hide it. He’s huge.

Then, he’s prying your legs apart and standing between them. His hands find the bottom of your shirt and usher you to take it off. You do exactly that. His own shirt follows yours right after.

“Need you so bad,” you all but moan as you look up at him, and he swears there’s lust in your eyes.

“Yeah? Need this dick so bad, huh? ‘S all yours, baby,” and with that your own jeans are joining his on the floor, leaving you both in just your underwear.

There’s no hiding the little wet spot that’s pooled in your underwear, and Katsuki notices.

“This wet for me already? I’ve not even touched you yet. Fuck,” he bites his lip and reaches round to undo your bra. His lips attach back to yours as your bra is then slid down your arms and thrown god knows where onto the floor.

His hand slides down to your clit and presses a finger to your clit, rubbing little circles onto it over your underwear, your head is thrown back and a moan leaves your throat.

Your pleasure is short-lived, though, as he removes it to grab ahold of your hips and pull you forward toward where he’s stood at the edge of the bed.

He leaves a trail of kisses down the middle of your breasts as he pulls your underwear down your thighs. The gusset sticks just a little, showcasing just how wet you are for him.

He’s honestly never been so turned on in his life; cannot believe this is what he’s been missing out on.

He steps back just an inch to begin taking off his own boxers, and you’re already missing the heat from his body.

You’re both completely naked now. Your pussy feels like it has its own heartbeat and if he doesn’t get inside you without the best few seconds, you feel you’re going to explode.

“Need you inside, Katsuki,” you plead, looking into his eyes. You’ve been waiting over a month for this, there is no way you’re waiting any longer, even if just a few seconds.

“Want me to fuck you like the slut you are, yeah?” Is all he says before he’s tapping the head of his cock on your clit. He drags it down to your entrance and gathers up your slick before beginning to push the tip in.

Your arms give way and you fall onto your back. He’s only put the tip in but you can already feel the stretch. He’s bigger than any man you’ve had before, and fuck, you cannot believe he’d been giving this to her.

You don’t have to worry about that now, because he’s right here. Right where you wanted him. And he’s going to fuck you dumb just like you’ve wished for.

You shut your eyes as you feel him push himself all the way in, you both simultaneously let out a moan. You, because he’s so big, and him, because you’re so tight.

His head finds the crook of your neck and rests there as he pulls back out, not all the way, before slamming back in.

You can feel — hear — his breaths getting deeper as he begins to thrust into you. It’s a slow pace; he’s allowing you to adjust to his size.

“Already so much better,” he mumbles into your neck, leaving a soft kiss there before lifting his head and looking at your blissed out face, “couldn’t think of anything but you for the past month. Every time I fucked her, I couldn’t help but wish it was you,”

And that’s exactly what you wanted to hear. Another moan leaves your throat while your nails are digging and scratching up and down his back.

“Katsuki, please just shut up and fuck me.” Your legs wrap around his waist, your heels pressing into his back along with your fingernails.

“Don’t worry, baby, gonna fuck this slutty lil’ pussy till you can’t walk.” He takes a finger and starts circling it on your clit, pounding into you at a pace you’re unable to keep up with.

He can feel your pussy clenching around him, can tell you’re close. His eyes leave yours as he glances down to where you’re joined together and there’s a ring around the base of his cock where his pre-cum has mixed with your juices. Fuck, he’s getting close too.

“Shit… gonna cum,” you’re just able to stutter out.

“Doing so good for me, baby. C’mon, cum on my cock,” and the praise is all you need, the switch in you flipping and you’re gushing around his cock.

His mouth meets yours for one last sloppy kiss while he fucks you though your orgasm, overstimulation already settling in.

“Where?” He asks, but you’re unsure of what exactly he’s asking. He truly has fucked you dumb and he’s not even done that much.

He can tell by the look on your face your overstimulated and confused, so he elaborates, “gonna cum… where?” And you finally understand.

“Inside! Fuck… inside, Katsuki!” One last thrust and he’s letting out a breathless groan before you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up.

He stays inside for just a moment while you both catch your breaths. A slight squelch and a moan is heard from you as he finally pulls out. He stands back and admires his handiwork, smiling at your face — your eyes are closed, mouth is hanging open and your hair is clinging to your forehead from the sweat. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous.

Your eyes open and slowly meet his. You smile back at him, a blush rising to your cheeks. How is it that you’re getting flustered now?

He hovers back over you, leans down and presses a small kiss to your lips. “You’re mine, you hear me? All mine. Ain’t no way I’m letting you leave after that,” the quiet chuckle he gives after saying this is one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard. You’ve never been happier getting what you want.

You nod. “Yeah… yours,” too tired and fucked-out to form a proper sentence. You feel him begin to lift you from the bed and help you walk to the bathroom, probably to clean you up, but what happens after that is all a blurred memory.

You wanted him to fuck you dumb, and fuck you dumb is what he did.

Another month passes and you’ve both made it official to the others. Katsuki is now officially, yours, and you his. Mina was the first to know, of course, you had messaged her the morning after.

You’re with Katsuki in the back of a limousine. You’re wearing a fancy, low-cut, tight, red dress with a slit down one of the legs, while Katsuki is in a marching red and black suit. He looks incredible — even better than he did in that interview when you first fell for him.

The limousine comes to a stop and the door is then opening. Katsuki exists first, holding a hand out for you to grab onto as you exit right behind him. There are cameras flashing from every angle.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been out in public with Katsuki, there have been other paparazzi pictures of you, but it’s the first time you’ve been in public with the intention of letting everyone know you’re a couple.

As he walks down the carpet with you, there are questions being shouting at you both, left right and centre, but only one specific question catches your attention, “y/n! What do you have to say about the rumours of you being a homewrecker?”

“I could never do anything like that. I mean, I would, but, I’m just too nice, and too hot.” is the only thing you reply before turning your attention back to Katsuki, a smirk on your face.

You’ve got what you want now, who cares how you got it?

[lost-romantique]

The Stolitz plotline didn't just "happen"...

One thing I will never understand is people complaining that the Stolitz plotline taking center stage happened randomly...

It didn't.

The plotline has been building-up since the very first episode of Season 2.

The only difference is the change of perspective.

During the start of Season 2, the Stolitz plotline has been solely focusing on Stolas' POV, while Blitz, the protagonist, was dealing with seperate shit.

Because at the end of the day, Blitz has a life outside of Stolas, he has people to worry about, and his own personal shit to deal with.

They had one episode together in Seeing Stars, but that's it.

Afterwards, whenever anything Stolitz related was put into focus, it would switch to Stolas' POV, while Blitzø was preoccupied doing something else.

Western Energy is a good example of this, an extremely controversial episode that divided the Fandom at large... and still does.

Major things happen to Stolas this episode:

Stolas, who initially didn't see the threat of Striker till he actually got stabbed, is made hyper-aware of his overall wellbeing immediately afterwards

Stolas is told of the class disparities between imps and royalty, and how much Striker despises them. However, Stolas doesn't get what the fuck Striker is talking about, he's too busy being cunty towards him (what a bloody legend)

This is the first time the audience is made aware of Stolas' overall lack of awareness, and his inability to grasp the class divide.

Stolas spends majority of the time hoping and praying for Blitz to save him, to fulfill that 'knight in shining armor' fantasy he puts him in

He's shocked and maybe even a little disappointed to realize that help came, not in the form of his suave knight he's been crushing on, but his crew

Meanwhile Blitz, was busy helping his daughter get a Hellbies shot.

I really don't want to argue about Western Energy right now, all I will say is that I don't hate Blitz for wanting to put his daughter first. Blitz, at the end of the day, is trying his damndest to be a good father to Loona, who has her own myriad of issues she's dealing with and that Blitz is aware of. Blitz is aware of the issues that Loona faces and her fear of needles. Blitz was not aware of Stolas getting hurt.

"He can get hurt?"

Western Energy is the only episode of Season 2 where Blitzø’s perspective in regards to the Stolas situation is ignored.

And I am hoping and praying that they will bring up Western Energy again before the season ends. Please...

Oops...

Stolas attempts to get his hands on the Asmodean crystal, and he reveals, for the first time, his growing affection towards Blitz.

Stolas, sweetie, I love you, but I hate your stupid fucking hat. Maybe Blitz would notice you more if you took your fucking hat off, he loves your feathers.

Meanwhile Blitz and Fizzarolli took center stage as they mended a friendship that's been broken due to a certain P.O.S.

Cash Fuckzo, I hate you.

Just Look My Way is the final piece of the puzzle right before Full Moon...

We are made fully aware just how much Stolas cares for Blitz. How much he wants to be there for him, how much he cares for him, etc.

So yeah, the Stolitz plotline taking center stage didn't happen at random.

It has been built up slowly and steadily throughout the entire season before everything imploded spectacularly in a great ball of fire.

We are just now slowly peeling back the layers of the depth of Blitzø’s feelings for Stolas, as their NOT-breakup, consumes a huge part of his life.

This is why I stress so heavily how much the Stolitz relationship, prior to Full Moon, is told in Stolas’s POV.

Prior to Ghostfuckers, all we had were assumptions to go off of when it came to Blitz's opinion on Stolas.

However, through Ghostfuckers we start to learn just how much Blitz truly cared for Stolas. Just how much he really meant to him.

[itsa-me-lily]

First of all, anyone with pets, this fic may fuck you up. It fucked me up and I wrote it. So please keep that in mind before reading this fic. This is for sure some of my own personal trauma I used to flavor this, that and my tears.

Second THE PIGS ARE OKAY IN THE END I PROMISE, spoilers I know but I felt like I needed to put that in advance

Third here is the other Military Program Spouse stuff

Fourth @nightunite I want to blame this on you but this is honestly all me

Content warning; anxiety, panicking, pet illness, discussion of pet death, concern that violence has been committed against reader, concern that reader is injured, angst

You were not a woman who needed her husband, but fuck was this a time you wanted him.

You had suspected something was up with boys. You couldn't tell if they were eating, and neither would come running to the edge of their enclosure to greet you when you came home. You tried not to panic, tried to ignore the tendrils of anxiety that wrapped around your lungs to strange them. This time was different. You weren't some kid who just graduated college and didn't have a clue. You knew better this time.

So you mixed up your CritCare, made the next available appointment with their vet, and remained determined that everything was going to be fine.

Then the wheezing started.

You had been on the cusp of sleep, your phone mocking you with the announcement of one am. You knew you needed to sleep, and yet you hadn't been able to. In the dark you could admit that you were scared. And that you had a reason to be.

You hadn't made the pull out bed, instead just planning on sleeping on the couch as is, incase something happened. You're thankful you had. It made scooping both Jiji and Tombo to abscond to the bathroom easier, the three of you sitting against the door as the hot running shower filled the tiny room with steam. It would help. It had to.

Only it didn't. Ten minutes later and they still sounded so terrible. You could feel the fear starting to churn your stomach. What if you couldn't fix it? What if you were too late again and-Your breath hitched as you tried not to spiral. It had to be different this time but-your eyes burned as you tried to ignore the urge to cry. You were so alone. Simon was out on some overnight lieutenant training, and you were alone in your bathroom with your boys who were absolutely everything to you and they sounded so sick and what if you couldn't make them, what if it was just like last time where you tried and tried and it still didn't make them any better and you lost them and-

You can't help the sob that ripped out of your chest, holding the boys a little tighter. You needed to do something. You have to do something because your boys needed you to. Sniffling, you tried to unlock your phone to check where the ER vet is, only it opens to the conversation you had with Simon.

'If anything happens call Soap.'

You were sure that Simon had probably meant if there was some sort of human emergency, when he had offered up his best friend, but you were desperate. Without really thinking about it you were dialing the Scot, breath hitching as you tried to get it under control. The endless ringing just made the anxiety wring your insides. You were about to give up when at the last second a voice came on the line, disoriented and thick with sleep.

"'ello?"

"J-Johnny?"

You hadn't meant for your voice to crack when you said his name, but just hearing another person meant that you didn't have to try this alone and the relief that crashed over you made you a little weak.

"I need help."

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish, liked to think that he was a man prepared for anything. He was a solider, a demolition expert, he could make anything blow with just the right amount of faith, trust, and c-4. He was ready to fly out to whatever corner of the world needed him to kick ass.

He was not ready to hear Ghost's wife, which that was an odd sentence in and of itself, almost crying down the line as she called him in the dead of night. You hadn't even finished saying his name and Johnny was already rolling out of bed, looking for anything to throw on.

Image after terrible image flashed through his mind as he heard your plea for help. Had someone broken in? Were you hurt? One awful thought struck him of you cowering somewhere until the person determined to get revenge on Ghost found you. No. He couldn't panic. You already sounded distressed and he couldn't help you if he lost his head. Johnny was a professional.

"Hen, need you to tell me where you are."

"At-at the house-"

"Is anyone else there?"

"N-no."

Johnny would have sagged with relief if he wasn't so busy shoving his feet into his boots and already halfway out the door. Not a break in, at least as far as you were aware. It didn't rule out you being hurt though.

"Listen I'll be there in ten, don't move."

"But the boys-"

Looking back, Johnny probably should have let you finish before ending the call, but in his defense he had a twenty minute drive to cut in half, and an LT to notify. He wasn't really sure what the relationship between the two of you was, but he had been there the night Ghost had overheard some private talk about you, and Ghost hadn't taken kindly to it.

Of course, the private needed to be socked a few times given what he was saying, but still, as far as he had known his LT hadn't even wanted to be in the spousal program until Price threatened him with extra psych meetings. Then next thing Johnny new Ghost was defending your honor and asking him to keep an eye on ya when he was out of town. So whatever the hell was going on between the two of you, Johnny wasn't going to fuck it up.

Which was how he was now at the closest emergency vet visit, trying to keep you from crying further while someone looked at your guinea pigs. Even he could admit the poor guys had sounded awful in the car.

He had tried not to push, even if he had been frustrated when he had first arrived at Ghost's home. He had spent ten minutes driving like the devil was chasing him, imagining you laying there with a broken neck or worse, and you had been perfectly fine, standing there at the door talking about needing a vet.

Johnny had had half a mind to give you an earful of what constituted as a past midnight call for help, but before he had the chance to, your face had crumbled and it was over for him. He was taking you and two guinea pigs to the vets.

He watched as you picked at your cuticles, seeming to need some sort of distraction, though he couldn't tell how well it was working given the way you seemed to be staring at the floor. Just as he was about to reach out to stop you from making yourself bleed for the third time, his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He was pretty sure he knew who was calling at this hour.

He didn't even bother checking the ID before answering, stepping away, not that you noticed.

"Hey LT."

"Status report MacTavish."

"Missus is okay. The wee ones got taken back. Now we're just waiting."

"...Thank you Johnny."

That was unexpected. Sure Ghost wasn't a complete bastard, but the genuine gratitude that came through the line was...shocking. He didn't know if it was for driving you while you were upset or even just being there. He wasn't sure if Ghost even knew.

"Any time Simon."

"How is-"

Johnny didn't mean to cut the man off, but a man in mint green scrubs had come out calling for last name Riley, and he didn't want to leave you alone to get whatever news was coming.

"They just called for us. Update you later."

He probably shouldn't have hung up just like that, but well he figured Ghost would appreciate the dedication to keeping you upright this evening.

It was an upper raspatory infection, is what Soap told him the vet had said. Simon didn't know how two guinea pigs who never left the house got infections like that, but according to Soap who had said according to the vet, that you had caught it early enough and a course of antibiotics would help.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he remembered getting Soap's messages, at first the worry that something had happened to you, and then the concern later when it was clear that it was the pigs.

Simon knew you had some sort of trauma in regards to them. There was no way that the level of hypervigilance you had in regards to them wasn't. He had seen it other service members before. Hell he lived it, that constant nagging feeling that if you weren't aware of everything all the time, then something was going to get you. It hadn't been until he had asked about the two wooden boxes on your nightstand that he had started to understand.

You'd had two other guinea pigs before, pets you had gotten to sooth the loneliness right after college. And of course you loved them, loved them just as much as you loved your boys now. Only you hadn't known then what to look out for with sick guinea pigs.

Simon could remember the sad look in your eyes as you had brushed your fingers along the top of one wooden urn. You had tried so hard to nurse them back to health, did everything you could, went to the vet as often as you could afford to, but you had been trying to catch up to a loosing race. Simon had pretended not to notice how you had tried not to let any tears spill over as you explained it all to him. So now, with Jiji and Tombo, he could see how that would probably send you spiraling.

Really he owed Soap at least a drink the next time they went out, even if at four in the morning the Scot had tried to brush off any gratitude from when he reported to Simon that everyone was back home where they were supposed to be. He knew he didn't say it enough, but Simon was grateful that Soap had his six, and in this case yours.

Pulling up to the driveway, Simon braced himself for whatever laid waiting for him at high noon. It was the best possible anticlimactic. You asleep on the couch clear bags under your eyes, and two little pigs poking their heads out of their hideys to see what was going on now.

Making his way over he knelt down next to the cage, watching as Jiji stuck his head out a little further to even accept the gentle brushing of Simon's finger. The antibiotics must have already been helping.

"Alright you two, it's time to get better now. You can't go breaking your mum's heart."

Edit;

Jiji and Tombo make a full recovery and are back to being their adorable menacing selves in no time. Baker thankfully never got sick because he was being quarantined due to the ringworm

Also this is incredibly emotional for me, because I loved all my boys I've had, and I'd do all over again, the medication runs, vet visits, syringe feedings, if it meant that they got better. So even if it's in this world, to have piggies get better means a lot.

[luneytodd]

I’m about to start fist fighting mfs in the mouthwashing fandom because everyone likes to give me shit when I say “Curly should’ve thrown Jimmy in the cryopod when he learned about what he was doing to Anya” BUT NOBODY HAS GIVEN ME A VALID REASON AS TO WHY HE COULDN’T HAVE

“tHeY nEeD a cO-piLoT” THEY HAD AN AUTOPILOT!!! One that seemingly worked pretty well too until SOMEBODY got his hands on it. Also you mean to tell me they had a gun on the ship in case of “unrest among crew members” but absolutely NO backup plan in case something happened to the co pilot?? I find that outrageously hard to believe.

“WhY WoUlD tHeY giVE tHe oNLy sUrviVAL pOd To a RaPiSt?” I’m going to spit in your face. I’ve heard this argument so many times it has actually killed my brain cells. So in case this wasn’t 100% clear for whatever reason my suggestion is that they would do this course of action *before* he crashed the ship when there were still (correct me if I’m wrong with this number cause I don’t remember the exact details) THREE working pods, not one. Ideally, Curly would’ve done this as soon as Anya told him about the abuse but the second best time in my opinion would’ve been when Jimmy went on the whole “kill everyone, leave us as martyrs” rant. I don’t give a single fuck what any of you dense motherfuckers say to me ever if MY FRIEND approached me and threatened not only my life but the lives of every single one of my coworkers I’d charge tackle his ass into the pod myself, or at least bribe Swansea to do it.

“tHeY wOuLdn’T gEt pAiD fOr tHe JoB bEcAuSE OF ThE uNNeCeSSArY pOd UsAgE” First of all, fuck you. Genuinely. Second of all, THEY’RE ALL FIRED!!! NO MATTER WHAT!!! INDUSTRY WENT BYE BYE!!! For all intents and purposes, that paycheck would’ve been the filler between this venture and the next. Would losing that be absolutely devastating for some of the people involved? It’s very possible. I don’t know their individual financial statuses and I’m not gonna stand here and argue “they all would’ve been completely fine without the money”. But you know what’s even more devastating than losing your financial safety net? LOSING YOUR GODDAMN LIVES!!! Also in general if you’re prioritizing your own financial interests over the health and wellbeing of the people around you, you are scum arguing for scummy shit and I reiterate my earlier “Fuck you” with an additional “go to hell” just for emphasis. I don’t think a lot of people are making this argument because I’m literally sourcing it from a few randos on tik tok but goddamn if your views align with these particular tik tok randos please for the love of god just block me cause I despise you and everything you stand for.

And like the thing I really want to get across with this entire rant is that I don’t think Curly specifically was an awful person for not taking the absolute most drastic measures every single time Jimmy said some fucked up bullshit. But I’m so so SO over the trend of people acting like he was perfect and there was absolutely nothing he could’ve said or done because Jimmy is this master manipulator who was pulling the strings the entire time cause I also think that’s also total bullshit. I think there were a lot of opportunities to recognize the red flags and I am so fucking tired of this fandom acting like he couldn’t have done something- LITERALLY ANYTHING to help.

[wholelottaprompts]

ᡣ𐭩 Emails I Can't Send Prompts ᡣ𐭩

from the album Emails I Can't Send, by Sabrina Carpenter

"And I still make excuses for you constantly."

"Sorry that I pulled the 'it's not you, it's me.'"

"You're not my friend, and baby, you never were."

"It's times like these I wish I had a time machine."

"Whatever, you're a waste of time."

"I can't myself when you get close to me."

“Oh, so you do have a type."

"Where else can we go?"

"I hate the way you left me dry."

"Give me a second to forget I ever really meant it."

"Don't say sorry now."

"One day, I'll make sure you get a real apology."

"I tried to look for the best in the worst."

"Oh, so you can reply."

"I'm so tired."

"You want me? I'm done."

"I wonder how many things you think about before you get to me."

"You're lucky I'm a private person."

"I'm over that son of a bitch."

"Don't make me cuss you out."

"You're so vicious."

"Nobody gets my jokes, everyone here thinks I'm fucking rude."

"Why were you somewhere else when you were next to me?"

"I can't help it, it's a habit."

"You act like a bitch."

"I never saw him and we never kissed."

"There's nothing left here to decode."

"Were you lying to me and the family?"

"If you wanted brown eyes, I could have got contacts."

"You don't feel remorse."

"That never made too much sense to me."

"I can't read your mind."

"Why'd you let me down?"

"You knew I would see that."

"Looking at you got me thinking nonsense."

"Bet you wanna love me now."

"How do you do this to me?"

"Tell me what's gonna happen."

"You knew I would notice."

"I'll drive you home."

"I don't even know, I'm talking nonsense."

"I want you there sometimes."

"She looks nothing like me."

"Your signals are mixed."

"Everything reminds me of you."

"I know you know it keeps me up."

"You drive me crazy."

"Chase me."

"Did you even give a fuck?"

"You disgust me."

"Now I'm a homewrecker. I'm a slut."

"Tell me I was more than just a decent opportunity."

"Why do you look so happy?"

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thanks to you, I can't love right."

"I know now even if I tried to change that somehow, you'd end up with her anyway."

"You fit every stereotype."

"Does she step out of the spotlight so you bathe in it?"

"Now I can't even look at you."

"You said I'm too late to be your first love, but I'll always be your favorite."

"I know what you're about to say."

"Does she get up on top of you more than I would?"

"He had it coming."

"I deserve my own consideration."

"I look up from my phone and think there's no chance it's you, but it is."

"He's good for my heart, but he's bad for business."

"I've got death threats filling up semi trucks."

"How am I supposed to close the door when I still need the closure?"

"All my friends think I've gone crazy."

"I care, but I don't."

"Please fucking fix this."

"Tell me that you miss me in your life."

"It feels so good not caring where you are tonight."

"You were all I looked up to."

"Was I being lied to?"

"I got ways to find you anywhere."

"You miss me? No duh."

"Maybe we should do this on purpose sometime."

"It was all so innocent."

"What the fuck is patience?"

"I can't even stomach loving someone else."

"God, I love you, but you're such a dipshit."

"You're good at impersonating someone who cares."

"I bet your house is where my other sock is."

[fuckyourchampionship]

That stupid fuckandreastella blog bro. has a page dedicated to blindly hating on all the drivers except Lando, and then gets butthurt when people call them out on it. I'm glad that anon called them out. They hate on Oscar based on assumptions about him that they made up in their head to make them feel better about themselves and their washed driver. Meanwhile Lando has, by his own words and actions proven how rude of a person he is. His fans love to disguise them as jokes when they're legitimate insults and he knows those fans will defend him and he continues to do it. Half the time i don't even mind the snarky comments he makes because it's something all drivers have done, even Oscar and Max, it's part of the sport, infact media has dimmed it down otherwise it was so much worse back then, but he doesn't know when to stop, atleast max has 4 wdc to back up his temper. He's doing to much with little to show for it. His fans say it's double standards of people to shit on Lando for his 'champion mindset' when Max gets praised for the same thing. Mate what mindset? The only thing about the mindset is that he 'dreams' to be a champion, yet has never puts it into action. Max got hate for it, but did he let that peer pressure him? He took that hate and converted it into success. That's champion mindset. No unnecessary comments to undermine fellow drivers because he knows his ability. Infact he's praised Lando so many times. But Lando gets close to Max's car and suddenly max is dangerous, he's his enemy, they're not friends anymore, he loses respect for him. Hell he wanted an apology lmfaoo. And then PR was on his ass that he denied contradicted everything the next race, while max from the start was very mature about it and never spoke I'll of Lando. He can never learn to shut up when he should, and his fans are surprised he gets hated on.

Lando loves to victim play a lot, the whole Hungary drama? So that people would feel bad for him? He could've given Oscar the place back and then fight for it afterwards, but he had to cause unnecessary drama for the world to see, which by now I shouldn't be surprised about. Then he cries and whines about every driver trying to race him, tell me one time Oscar's ever begged for Lando to give the place back, even if team orders were implemented in his favor (which was only Hungary to my knowledge) It was always the team making decisions or talking to Lando, Oscar focuses on the race, based on his own merit. He knows that team has always favoured Lando and he's keeping silent, gaining experience, ultimately to outclass Lando in future seasons and I love that for him. And then the whole, Oscar never praises Lando like Lando does about him openly, is such a childish argument, because first it's literally false, Oscar has on multiple occasions subtly praised Lando when Lando did better then him post race interviews, and second, he's not contractually obligated praise him? People got mad at Oscar not 'thanking' Lando after Hungary. Why the fuck would he do that? In what world would a driver thank another driver for their win. Personally, I see all these praises from Lando about Oscar fake, just to get media's sympathy. He'll really try everything offtrack to gain an advantage but can't do it where it actually fucking matters.

Calling Oscar selfish for racing against Lando is hilarious because you're just undermining your own drivers ability. Isn't the whole point of F1 being selfish and fighting for the win? It's what max and every championship has done, and it paid off, if Lando fans call Oscar selfish then I'll take that as a compliment because they're basically saying Oscar's a soon to be world champion, so keep it coming babes. Oscar's only here for the constructors, he has no obligation to help Lando win a championship yet he CONTINUES to do so. If Lando really was championship material, he would be able to race against his teammate without crying about it, and be able to race wheel to wheel against him on track. But what do I expect, he cries about max when Max is trying to defend a championship, what does he fucking expect? Him to just let him by easily? If he did half the things max does (unfair take because Lando doesn't have half the talent max does or the courage lol) he would be closer to max in the championship, not leading but atleast closer. Oscar has done no wrong when racing Lando, he's always kept it clean, no damages to Lando's car so what's the issue? He tries his best to bring maximum points for the WCC and that should be his only obligation. If Lando was half as level headed as Oscar and actually focused on his races instead of bitching and moaning, McLaren would be miles ahead of Ferrari.

And back to hating on Oscar based on assumptions, they apparently don't like him because he's associated with mark who's homophobic and transphobic and then made ONE video with Jeremy Clarkson who again is controversial for reasons Idgaf about so by default that makes him one too. And that's equivalent to saying Lando's the same because he outright expressed support for trump. Not to mention he was associated with that rapist Yung filly or whatever. Does that make him one too?

The double standards and hypocrisy of those Norris fans will never fail to amaze me. Just what is their thought process.

Anon We think the same, I totally agree with you.

I think I love you

[koji-haru]

I'll be with you

[For @inubaki! Happy birthday!! I hope your day was amazing! ❤️]

This fucking sucks. Adam groaned loudly as he slumped in his seat, face looking tiredly up at the red ceiling. Red. Before he didn’t care much for the colour, but now, with red painted everywhere he went as if he wore red tinted sunglasses all the time, he had come to hate the colour with a passion. Charlie went around the group, letting them choose which journal they wanted. The princess had talked everyone’s ear off with her lengthy speech about gratitude and taking things for granted, except Vaggie because of course she always supported any of Charlie’s exercises no matter good or bad of an idea it was. 

Unfortunately for Adam, he was the second last person in the group circle, with Alastor just after him. When Charlie finally got to him, he only had two options: one had ‘Live. Love. Laugh’ written on it in cursive with rainbows in the background, and the other was a plain beige journal with ‘My Life’ written on it. Adam quickly chose the beige journal, better the boring one instead of sparkly rainbows. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Alastor’s smile twitch a little when Charlie handed him the remaining journal. 

“Oh, thank you dear,” Alastor said as he slipped the journal into the shadows, most likely never to be seen again. 

“No problem at all!,” Charlie beamed.

Honestly, Adam wasn't sure how she managed to stay so bright and cheerful in such a miserable shithole of a place that was Hell, but props to her, he supposed, but that didn’t mean he was going down the same delusion. Adam looked down at the journal in his hand. Three things he was grateful for everyday, huh? 

It has been almost two months since Adam died in the failed Extermination, revived as a sinner, and was now a resident at the very same hotel he tried to destroy trying to redeem himself back to Heaven. Well, ‘trying’ would be an exaggeration, more like forced to stay at the Hotel by Sera and Lucifer. Sera just wanted him back as an angel in Heaven to stop the others from wondering where the first man disappeared to; really, she just wanted to keep the ‘mess’ he made under the rug. And Lucifer, well, he just wanted to keep his precious princess happy. If Adam could be redeemed back to Heaven, then maybe Charlie could even get Heaven’s support for her hotel since Sir Pentious’ redemption apparently only made them decide to at least leave the hotel and its residents alone. No news about the possibility of future exterminations yet though. 

In reality, Adam wasn’t even sure if he wanted to get redeemed. Don’t get him wrong, he hated being in Hell, the place was absolutely vile and disgusting in ways he never thought was even possible. But he was kind of glad to have some of the weight be lifted off his shoulders. He would have preferred to have all of the weight be lifted off him when he thought he finally, truly died at the battlefield, but it seemed that God had other plans for him. He already lived long lives in both Earth and Heaven, as a human and as an angel, but now he also had to live a life in Hell as a sinner. It was wearing him out. He just wanted to be relieved of any duties; he just wanted to finally be done with everything. Being in Hell, he was constantly reminded of his failure in the garden of Eden, how he also bit the apple despite knowing he shouldn’t just so he could selfishly remain with Eve. Sinners themselves were proof of the filth he knowingly allowed into the world, and as much as he hated killing his own descendants, the Exterminations were truly the only way he could clean up his mess. Or at least that was what he believed; when news of Sir Pentious being redeemed reached the hotel, Adam thought he was going to die a third time. This entire time he spilled the blood of his children, thinking that that was the only way for him to make up for his mistakes as well as, in a twisted way, saving them from an eternal life in Hell, it was all for naught. Redemption was possible. Some of those souls didn’t need to be erased…

Adam flipped the journal open. He had so many regrets in his eternally long life that all good things seem to simply fade into the background. Well, almost all the good things. He still wasn’t sure how it came to be, but somehow, he managed to earn Michael’s love that even led to a promise of eternal devotion. Yes, the archangel Michael, Lucifer’s very own brother. It was certainly an odd twist of fate, but his union with the archangel was something Adam would never ever regret no matter how many lives he would end up living. Michael was the only reason Adam was even sort of trying this redemption thing, otherwise he would simply tell Sera to fuck off and leave him to suffer in Hell. Despite the strong urge of giving up, Adam wanted to at least see Michael one more time. He knew he didn’t deserve it, especially with their stark differences in, well, everything important, but he couldn’t help it. He was just a human needing to be with the love of his life.

Yeah, he was grateful for Michael’s love even though he didn’t deserve it. He could write that in the journal. He would write that everyday.

Just as the group was about to get up from their seats and off to whatever they wanted to do for the day, a loud and purposeful knock on the hotel door sounded throughout the lobby. Charlie perked up from where she stood, somehow managing to look even happier as she excitedly made her way to the door. Everyone was currently present at the lobby for her activity, even her father, that knock could only mean one thing…

Charlie pulled the door open, beaming brightly as she greeted her new guest, “Welcome to the Happy Ho..tel…” 

The words quickly died in her throat as her jaw simply dropped at the sight before her. What was such a being doing in Hell, especially at her hotel?! In front of Charlie was the most divine angel she had ever seen, with such celestial presence exuding off of him as if the very Heavens had gone down to visit Hell.

The angel gave Charlie a small smile as he stepped closer towards the now open door. “Hello young lady, sorry but I’m looking for Adam, the first man. I heard he was staying here?”

“Oh, uh, y-yes,” stammered Charlie, still stunned at the presence before her, as she took a step to the side, letting the angel into the hotel. “Just this way.”

“Thank you,” the angel thanked with a quick nod of his head before entering the hotel with quick, determined strides. He stopped by the lobby, looking around briefly until his eyes landed on a group of people gathered in a circle, and then zoning in on a specific sinner, looking different and yet all too familiar. The large black horns, blackened gold wings, floppy brown ears, and the long fluffy brown tail, swinging back and forth in impatience, did nothing to obscure the fact who the supposed sinner was. 

Before Lucifer could even react to the sudden guest’s presence, the angel already made his way towards the group, angelic presence heavy and almost burning, stopping just beside Adam and looking extremely displeased.

“Adam.” 

“Wuh?” Adam turned and swore he nearly died a third time as shock ran through his heart at the sight of the person in front of him. There, he sat dumbly on the carpeted floor, looking up at the new guest, both happy and confused. “Michael? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same.” Michael stood over Adam, arms crossed and a rare scowl painted over his normally gentle face. “I didn’t think your annual ‘day trip’ with your exorcists included you dying, becoming a sinner, and staying in a redemptive hotel for almost two months.”

“Um…,” was all that Adam could say, still completely baffled at his husband’s presence here. At the hotel. In Hell. How did he find out in the first place anyway? Adam could do nothing but look down, unable to meet Michael’s eyes anymore as guilt resurfaced only to drag him back down. He had already accepted it long ago that the archangel was too good for him, but now, after having everything vile and revolting about him exposed, he felt he didn’t even deserve to be in his presence. 

“...I’m sorry…,” he said, quiet and apologetic, his torn heart visible for Michael to see.

“Aaawkward!!,” yelled Angel out from across them, followed by a pained yelp and a hiss when Vaggie smacked the back of his head to quickly shut him up. 

Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the air settle in his lungs for a moment before releasing them back out. A much softer look replaced his stern gaze once he opened his eyes again as he leaned down and offered a hand to Adam. “We’ll get through this, okay? Together this time.”

His angel really did come for him. Starting from the garden, throughout his hardships on Earth, his afterlife in Heaven, and even when he had fallen to Hell, Michael remained Adam’s guardian angel, steadfast in his devotion and, for some reason Adam couldn’t fathom, desired to forever remain by his side. It was a bit much really, for someone like him, especially now that he was nothing but a lowly sinner. So instead, Adam kept his eyes glued to the red carpet he was sat on, opting to pick himself up instead as he always had and always should. Just as he was about to push himself off the floor, Michael crouched down instead, going down to his level, and cupped his face with the softest hand Adam had ever felt. Michael’s blue eyes looked straight into him, not piercing but gently knocking, asking with all the tenderness of the world. 

“Come on, let’s get you back up, okay?”

Adam felt his heart creak at those words, and yet he couldn’t help the relief that washed over him as a small smile crept on his lips. It seemed that his angel was adamant about staying by his side; Michael was just weird like that, he supposed, to be so attached to him. In the end, Adam ended up timidly accepting the hand offered to him, whether he deserved it or not. 

“Um, sooo…,” Lucifer coughed into his fist, looking awkwardly around the lobby. “...long time no see, huh? Michael…”

“Wait,” Charlie cut in as she finally stepped into the lobby after letting the scene earlier pass by first. “Michael, as in THE archangel Michael? Angel of justice and warrior of God Michael?”

Now that he was a bit calmer, Michael finally let the awkward and strange situation he forced himself into fully sink in. And, oh, how out of place was he. “That’s me,” he replied. 

“Ooh, a bigshot from Heaven. I wonder how big you really are~” Angel pondered aloud for everyone to hear, earning him another smack to the head from Vaggie. “Ow! I was just asking!”

“Or, I don’t know, he could just be my brother?” Lucifer rolled his eyes. 

The sparkle in Charlie’s eyes brightened up even more, rivalling even that of Heaven’s image in the sky. “Oh my gosh!!,” she squealed as she bounced on her heels. “I can’t believe this! Uhh, oh gosh we were not prepared for your visit, uhm.” 

Within a span of a few seconds Charlie went from eagerly shaking Michael’s hand to fussing and worrying about the state of the hotel.

“The hotel’s fine my dear. Spotless even!” Alastor said, the smile on his face as wide as ever, though the look in his eyes told otherwise. The presence of another angelic being from Heaven was certainly unwelcome to him. That, and he wasn’t going to accept any critiques on the hotel he had worked so hard to upkeep, especially not from some spoilt angel! “There’s no need to worry so much.”

For once Lucifer found himself agreeing with Alastor, even nodding slightly along with him. 

“I think so too, duckling,” tried to tell her, trying to ease her unnecessary worries away. Really, what was the fuss? Just because his brother was here. “Besides,” he turned his attention back to Michael, his gaze a little more serious. “He’s an unannounced guest.”

“Oh, I’m planning to stay in Hell, at the hotel, if you would have me,” Michael announced to a shocked still crowd. Even Adam, who was standing by his side, had his mouth agape, eyes wide in shock and face pale at what Michael had just casually revealed. 

“WHAT?!,” exclaimed everyone in the room except for Michael, who easily stood there so sure of his decision. 

“I wish to have Adam back in Heaven, and so I’m staying to ensure that,” he explained, turning his gaze back to Adam, a small smile on his face, though Adam could immediately tell that even though there was still love in it, the tenderness plastered on that smile hid a blazing holy flame. “We’ll have to carefully plan your progress, right Adam?,” he asked, smile brightening up even more, Adam could almost feel the blaze from where he stood. 

“R-right…,” Adam reluctantly agreed, afraid of the talk they would definitely be having later. Michael hadn’t been mad at him for years; the archangel held a lot of restraint when it came to most things, and it often took a lot for him to even become irritated. But for him to be upset and mad? That was when Adam knew he truly fucked up. Michael was going to untangle him, and he wasn’t sure if he could ever be ready for that; more than a millennia’s worth of tangled fibres of his being was not going to be easy to unravel and sort out, nor would the effort be worth it, if he had a choice in the matter. 

“You can’t just–,” Lucifer tried to interject but was soon cut off by Charlie’s excited squeal.

“Of course you can stay!”

“Charlie, sweetie–”

“Then you have my thanks,” Michael said with a small bow. “I’ll make sure to put in a good word about your hotel to Heaven.”

“Wait–”

Charlie gasped, exhilaration flowing in her veins. Support from someone like Michael might just be what she needed for her hotel to be taken more seriously by Heaven. Just the thought of her hotel being official in Heaven’s eyes and her dream finally becoming true sent an electric joy through every fibre of her being, leaking out into the world outside her in the form of bright happy sparkles. 

“That would mean so much to me..!,” she sniffled, tears now pricking her eyes like  sparkling jewels from sheer joy.

And just like that, it was decided that Michael could stay at the Hazbin Hotel.

[bullet-prooflove]

Three Things Prompt Game! for Ryan of Yellowstone

Ryan Yellowstone + fireworks, dog, blanket

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @yousigned-upforthis @queenslandlover-93 @ladychaos1525

Companion piece to:

Romantic Shit - Ryan and you talk about Texas.

Texas - Ryan and you see each other for the first time in three months.

Summer (NSFW) - Ryan enjoys a moment with you in the summer sun.

Ryan finds out the two of you have a dog when he gets home from his six month secondment in Texas to find a Belgian Malinois, snoozing in a dog bed near the fireplace, his blanket tucked over him. He’s not sure whose more surprised in that moment, him or the dog.

“Are we taking care of him for someone?” He asks you when you get home from work and the expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know.

“You did say you hated the thought of me being here in my own after what happened to Gina.” You remind him as he and Briscoe track you through the house, hovering in the laundry room as you begin to unpack your gear bag.

“I meant without me, your person.” He informs you, his arms crossed over his chest as you stuff everything into the machine. Briscoe sits alongside of him, head tilted up, watching the exchange between the two of you.

“Ryan…” You say firmly with your hand on your hip. “I know you’re not mad about the dog.”

“No, I’m…” He struggles to find the words as his palm rubs over the scruff of his beard. “…I’m worried about what comes after the dog.”

“After the…” You repeat before understanding dawns on you. “You mean a baby?”

“We never talked about having kids.” He reminds you as he reaches down and scratches behind Briscoe’s ears. “Texas came up and we decided to get married, we never really talked about anything beyond that.”

“Oh.” You say because he’s right. The two of you had been so focused on what was right in front of you, you hadn’t been looking five years, ten years down the line. “I don’t… they’re not really for me.”

“Oh thank fuck.” He mutters and you can see the tension flooding from his body as his shoulders relax. “I thought the dog was your way of telling me you were ready for one.”

“God no.” You tell placing a hand over your heart. “Briscoe was retiring and nobody else could take him, they were talking about putting him down and I couldn’t let that happen. He has canine PTSD from the shit he’s been through, loud noises like fireworks scare the hell out of him so they couldn’t have him in the field anymore.”

“Oh Briscoe.” Ryan says as he crouches down to the dog’s level and uses both hands to ruffle his furry cheeks. “Welcome to the family bud, we’re all a little bit messed up.”

Briscoe woofs his response to Ryan’s antics, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and you can’t help but smile, because this right here, this is your family, the only one you want.

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