#i'm simply fucking stoked

[clownstho]

Enemy Script Overhaul: Done!

I did it. I fucking did it. Last night, I finished de-tangling my enemy AI script.

Here are a couple of before pictures of the script and my reflective thoughts.

I was so taken with madness fixing this thing. I didn't bother to preserve the old script. These pictures are all that's left of the first version of my enemy. RIP but it won't be missed <3

231 lines all piled into one script. This poor man's state machine was just an enum and a MATCH statement executing all the functions it was crammed in with.

To emphasize the scope of the problem, I also took a picture of what I was calling "Timers' Alley". I named a section of his script because it was 5 timers all running at all. It lived above where all the animations happened.

I think once you're at the point you're naming the different neighborhoods of your goddamn script, you might want to Learn A Better Way.

I've attempted state machines in the past, but I don't think I had the confidence or skill to debug anything if there was a problem. Or the understanding of structuring my code. This time around, I could grasp Heartbeast's finite state machine explanation. So I set it up and then spent about 5 hours debugging.

God. It was so much trial and error. There were a lot of little changes made that were reversed. A lot of print statements. And even more comments written! I rooted out a lot of code that I didn't need. Now it all works and now the state machine is also fully commented. My script is sooo organized, and works like I want it to. Not to mention that I feel like I understand it completely now. That was not always the case in the old script!

100 fewer lines in the main script, and that's with the addition of updated descriptive comments. Now timers' alley no longer exists, replaced instead with the two-function Animation Alley. The timers now connect directly into the relevant state scripts using signals. All together the state scripts make up 442 lines across 5 states. So it was a lot more coding and commenting to get 100 fewer lines, but i think it was worth it. Now I can feel at peace, and modifications to behavior later will be easier later.

Now that I know how to do this, I could theoretically do this to the player too. I won't right now. But I could.

Okay I guess it's time to consult my notes and see what else is on my to-do list.

[challengers]

hmmmm

[smutallyouwant]

Twice Fic World ch. 2.5

I Got You, Boss

🎱 Part 1

I got busy, but here's the first part of the sequel of Strawberry Picking 🍓<3.

Mina x Male Reader

Word count: approx. 800 words

Summary: A quick warmup before the presentation.

The time has come, it's Monday and today is your presentation in front the higher-ups of your company. You're excited and nervous at the same time. You went to work early because you and your boss will hit the road at exactly 8 am. You arrived at 6:45 am and you went to the roof top to have a smoke. Smoking clears your mind and also makes you relax. You held into the rails and a familiar voice called out your name.

" Y/N "

You looked and Mina approached you with a peace sign pose

" What the heck, why are you so early? "

" I heard that you smoke here every morning whenever you have quite a work load. I knew you'll go here early because it's your presentation today " Mina answered.

" You're amazingly thoughtful " you giggled and continued smoking.

" You know smoking kills you, right? "

" Yes I know, will you make me stop? "

" Of course not, but I will help you relax " Mina answered before kneeling.

Mina looked into your eyes whilst removing your belt.

" Hey Mina someone might see us, someone can just bust out the door " you whispered.

" No, I locked it "

" I checked view earlier, no one can see us down there in this angle " she added.

You're turned on already due to her hot outfit. You palmed her cheeks and gently rubbed it with your back hand. Mina looked at you seductively. It's abvious that she's wet and horny right now. She keeps on looking towards you while licking your dick.

" You remembered when you fucked my throat last time, Y/N? " she asked with a frown before putting your dick inside her mouth.

She sucks it while maintaining eye contact with you. She gently sucked your shaft in a slow pace. You cupped her cheeks as you find her so cute in that position while giving you a head. You're very surprised on how she's doing a fellatio, you can feel her tongue circling and playing the head of your dick while sucking it at the same time. The pleasure is immense, her slow pace causes you to feel her blowjob much better. Her tounge makes your dick tingly, her sucking and her lips then gives you that nice pleasure.

She finally popped your dick and started stroking it with her silky smooth hands. The combination of the pre-cum and her saliva makes a perfect lubricant. You grabbed her face and started making out with her while she strokes your dick.

~~ahh

~~mmmhhh

~~slurpss

Moans escapes both of your mouth while enjoying the make out. You are leaning on the terrace grills, your left hand is palmed and rubbing her face and the other is wrapped around her waist. You're pulling her closer as you sucks her tongue and clips her lips with yours while her left hand stokes your dick, her other hand is simply wrapped on your neck.

You slowly pushed her to the door of the rooftop entrance, all while you're still kissing. You pushed her against the thick door and you held her neck. You kissed her neck and shoulders, her arms hugged your head and your other arm is groping her boobs.

" ~~ ahh baby, I've been waiting for this " she said under her moans.

" Me too, I'm so hungry for you " you said before giving her a final deep kiss.

You broke the kiss and you turned her around, revealing her back. You licked her back and you gently pulled her dress up so you can remove her shorts and underwear.

~~ mmhhh ~~ahh

She moaned.

You aligned your dick to her pussy and slowly pressed it inside.

" ~~ ahhh, yes babyy fuck me, fuck me " she said while moaning.

You started fucking her, she arced her back and her head is pressed into the door. You're holding her waist while giving all your strength in every thrust of your dick. Mina kept moaning every thrust.

~~ ahhh!!

~~ mhhh, fuck me more baby!

" Y/N can you pull my hair? " she said while smiling seductively.

You're shocked on how bold Mina was. But nothing's going inside of your head right now except that you're fucking a goddess while completely witnessing her sexy arced body and bottle-like shape. You pulled her hair and her moans becomes more bold.

~~~ahhhhaaahhh yesss!

" You're so horny, Mina "

" Are you happy? That you can now moan this wildly because of my dick? Your girlfriend can't do this to you so you can't show your true nature right, Mina? " You said while ramming her.

" Don't say that, Y/N ~~ahh "

You put your head beside hers.

" No, you're my slut now. Tell me the truth if you want me to fuck you like this everytime " you whispered into her ear.

" ~~mhhh, yes babyy. I'm your slut. Chaeyoung can't fuck me like this so please fuck me everytime you want " she seductively said.

You pulled her hair to your head, she released a wild moan and grinned her teeth while you're ramming her pussy.

" I've been fucking you for few minutes now, where do you want this load, slut? "

" I don't have a tissue with me baby, please tell me if you're cumming and I will suck that dick clean ~mmhgg " she said before biting her lower lip.

" ~~ ahh I'm cumming baby " you said before letting go of her waist.

Mina quickly puts her mouth into your dick and sucked it. You grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth, your dick reach her throat and you continued ramming her throat. Mina is pretty used to it now and she holds your leg while looking into your eye. After few thrusts you shoots your cum into her throat and you feel her fingers clenching your leg muscles. You pushed her head into your dick so hard while it still spits your cum. Mina's eyes rolled as she choke in her own salivas. After you withdrawn your dick she fell into her knees and gasped for air, she coughed heavily as she chokes. She is holding her neck and her eyeliner is a mess.

" Are you okay Mina? "

You asked before you sat in front of her while she is still gasping her air. She is not answering but she laid her arms into your shoulders.

" You okay, Mina ? " You asked again in a comforting voice.

Mina slowly lifts her head and she opened her mouth infront of you revealing her tongue. She shows how she swallowed your cum and nothing is left, all while smiling. You're turned on again and your dick became hard again. You sucked her tongue and makes out with her.

" I'm horny again, Mina " you said.

" Follow me " she replied.

She pulled you into the women's restroom, she pulls out a toothbrush from her pouch and she removed her underwear and raised her dress. She lets you fuck her while brushing her teeth infront of the mirror and on top of that she lets you record how you fuck her. In her defense she want you to watch that if you became horny when she's not around. She let you cum inside this time. Before leaving you kissed her and she sprayed her perfume into your suit.

" Goodbye, Y/N ! Goodluck in your presentation " she said with a gummy smile.

- To be continued

[fawnsflowerbed]

MDNI!!! AGAIN!!!!

Umm I'm thinking about Vendetta Leon with his puppy/bunny hybrid for this one but it could also just be a regular ol’ AFAB fem reader and YES, IT IS ANOTHER ASMR PORN THING because I can't get it out of my head leave me alone...

UHH CONTENT WARNING FOR ESTABLISHED CONSENSUAL SLEEP-PLAY!!!! This audio specifically from Whorosethinks (love him) gives me SUCH vibes like

Imagining it’s a lazy Sunday morning, and Leon's body is instinctively waking him up early since he's so used to doing it for his old assignments. But then he settles in and realises oh yeah shit it's still the weekend, so he chills out, tossing over only to see you. Oh, you. All soft snores and little twitching nose, your tail wiggling ever so slightly. He loves you so dearly, cherishes you, kisses the ground you walk on for Christ's sake. Railing that perfect pussy is just an added bonus.

But fuck, the position you've decided to flop into. Half on your tummy, one leg tossed over so your pert ass is up and those thighs are parted. It's not Leon's fault that he's got morning wood, it's not Leon's fault that you're dressed in nothing but one of his t-shirts and some skimpy underwear so from this angle has the perfect view of your cunt soaking through the thin fabric. He swallows hard. He might also be a little hungover, that's definitely not helping.

You've already talked this out together, and you'd made it clear in the past that if you wanted dear old owner to bury himself in your cunt even if you're asleep you'll wear a specific colour of panties. So, of course, he gets a closer look through the haze of the early morning.

There it is. Navy blue. Just like his work shirt. All pretty and lacy. He has free rein.

So of course he takes a thick finger to slide the frills to the side, slick coating the digit as he gently handles you. Of course he splays a careful hand over your back as he fumbles to lazily pull down his sweatpants, bare chest heaving as he stares at your twitching hole like he's been fucking hypnotised. He's slow, easing his rock hard dick into you inch by inch, watching that adorable nose wrinkle at the feeling of being stretched and filled by your beloved owner's cock. And god you feel so good, hot and wet, he has to take a second to collect himself.

Shaky hands stabilised on each side of your head, it doesn't take him too long to start gently fucking into you with long, slow strokes, stoking the ache in his guts with every push and pull through the velvet of your heat. He furrows his eyebrows, groaning deep from his chest, losing himself in you to the point of readjustment. He settles you fully onto your stomach, elbows bracketting you and chest to your back, cuddlefucking your sleeping form into the mattress with every clench and twitch of your insides. It should be illegal for someone's pussy to be this good, right? But he loves you, so he tries to be soft, even if he does slowly ramp up a little quicker, a little harder, a little deeper, you've got him panting like he's run a marathon.

So when you stir in your sleep, nose twitching and tail wiggling, giving that broken sleepy whimper of "Daddy?" that he loves so much all Leon can do is shush you. Leaning forward to nudge his face nice and close to your ear, whispering soothingly. "Shh, stay still baby. Daddy just needs to use his pet's perfect cunt." And ever the loyal and loving thing you are you obey with a squeaky whimper, melting into the pillows beneath him. Oh, he adores you. So compliant.

He's groaning, bordering on whiny at the way you simply let him use you, watching you adorably paw at the headboard. Every sweet tired mewl and gasp of yours against the frilled trim of the pillows. You're everything to him, taking him to the hilt, balls deep, even as he gently pins your arms behind your back so he can pronebone you good and deep into the duvet. Even as he picks up the pace, dragging his cock over every ridge of your pussy. The feeling of your hole sucking down on him like you're trying to rip his dick clean off is driving his brain to insanity, making him go dizzy. But watching your eyes flutter shut and tail wag and twitch as he dicks you down good and deep is probably the best thing in the world.

Well, a close second.

The best thing is definitely getting to creampie your cunt, watching you go rigid with perked ears and a high pitched, broken moan from your throat, how you fall to a slack pile of syrupy love stuffed full of his cum, that's definitely in first place.

And then there's the question of where this lies; what he's doing right now, peppering soft kisses across your cheeks, rubbing stubble against your face as he tugs your panties back into place. Cuddling you close with soothing words and soft back rubs until you both pass back out for another hour or so.

Eh. That sits somewhere between first and second. He's just a man, after all.

[pin-k-ink]

lesson learnt // narumi gen

tw ⇢ reader is second in command instead of hasegawa, switch!narumi, dom!reader, manhandling(?), strong sexual tension, biting, marking, making out, dry humping, grinding, slight nipple play

wc ⇢ 1.6k

"Just how goddamn useless are you?"

The furious words burst from your lips the moment you flung open Gen Narumi's bedroom door. The First Division captain blinked up at you owlishly, controller frozen in his hands and the latest high-octane shooter game paused mid-firefight on his massive television.

You could feel your chest heaving with barely restrained ire as you drank in the slovenly state of Gen's personal quarters. Discarded snack wrappers and soda cans littered every surface, empty two weeks' worth of laundry spilled from the hamper, and the unmistakable funk of unwashed male musk clung to the air.

"Uh...hello to you too?" Gen's cocky half-grin was wholly at odds with the thunderous darkness roiling in your gaze. "Jeez, what's got your panties in a twi—"

"Don't!" You sliced a hand through the air, shutting down the start of whatever juvenile taunt he was preparing to lob your way. Like always, his flippant, childish demeanor in the face of your justifiable rage only stoked your fury to more blazing heights.

Stalking fully into the room, you snatched the controller from Gen's lax grip, ignoring his squawk of protest. With a few forceful jabs, you terminated the game and powered off the system entirely. Gen jolted upright at that, eyes comically wide.

"Hey! I didn't save my checkpoint, you kn--"

"I don't give a flying fuck about your stupid games, Narumi!" You hurled the controller aside, watching it shatter against the wall with vicious satisfaction. Gen actually flinched at the outburst, all traces of his usual carefree smirking bravado evaporating. "While you've been wasting days in this pathetic mancave, I've had to cover for your lazy ass with the top brass AGAIN!"

Finally Gen found his voice again, adopting that defensive whining tone you'd come to loathe. "Aw, c'mon babe, no need to make such a big deal--"

"Don't you dare 'babe' me!" You rounded on Gen with such ferocity that the hulking combat expert actually shrank back under your gaze. "I'm your XO, not your goddamn maid to keep cleaning up your messes!"

Fists clenched, you paced in an agitated spiral as weeks' worth of simmering resentment came spilling forth in a torrent. "Those hidebound old bastards already look down at me thanks to your permanently unprofessional bullshit! And then I get reamed out for YOUR dereliction during the briefing?!"

Whirling back towards the bed, you stabbed an accusatory finger towards Gen's heavily defined torso. "Well not anymore! From now on, maybe my update reports should also include all the wasted hours I spend dragging your immature, sorry ass out of whatever selfish rabbithole you've dived into this time!"

All the while Gen simply...watched you. Jaw slightly unhinged, eyes tracing every sharp jut of your rigid silhouette, the heaving swell of your chest with each panting exhalation. You might have noticed if your vision weren't occluded by a haze of seething crimson.

Finally, when your throat felt raw and your scorching tirade began to ebb, you fixed Gen with a glare of pure disgust. "Well?! You gonna say anything for yourself, or just keep gawking li--"

"Holy fuck, that was hot."

The guttural words burst from Gen's lips, gravelly and utterly stripped of his typical cavalier bravado. You blinked, thrown by both the blunt assertion and the undisguised want blazing in those exotic red eyes.

"Wha...what did you just say?"

Rather than reply, Gen surged upright in one sinuous, coiled motion until his powerful frame was looming over your own in a heated rush. You instinctively backpedaled until the small of your back met the solid oak of his desk.

You sucked in a sharp breath as Gen's solid weight pressed you insistently back against the unyielding desk. His unique red-on-red gaze smoldered with undisguised hunger, pinning you in place just as effectively as his powerful frame.

"So..." Gen's voice was a low, gravel-rough rasp that made something twist low in your belly. "Looks like I finally found a way to light that famous fire of yours, huh?"

You opened your mouth - to protest, to deny, you weren't quite sure. But any retort shriveled on your tongue as Gen slowly, deliberately ran his hands up the outside of your thighs. Calloused palms blazed searing trails along the taut material of the combat suit until they settled in a possessive grip around your waist.

"You know..." He murmured, dipping his head until those full lips brushed the throbbing pulse at your throat. "I always suspected you'd look incredible like this."

A startled gasp escaped you as Gen's teeth grazed that sensitive juncture between neck and collarbone. Your fingers dug into the corded muscles of his shoulders seemingly of their own volition, torn between pushing him away and pulling him infinitely closer.

"All flushed and riled up, chest heaving with that righteous indignation..." Gen continued in that same unhurried timbre. He punctuated each remorselessly descriptive word with slow, maddening kisses along the entire slender column of your neck. "Who knew getting a rise out of you could be so goddamn sexy."

This time it was an outright moan that spilled shamelessly past your lips. You could feel Gen's wolfish smirk against your overheated skin, the vibration of his low rumble of satisfaction.

"That's it, gorgeous..." He rasped. "Let me hear how much you want to let that famous temper off the leash again."

As if punctuating the heated challenge, Gen rolled his hips in one slow, undulating grind against yours. You jolted at the insistent friction, the blatant outline of his cock grinding exquisite torment against your own aching pussy.

"Come on..." Gen's agile tongue traced the delicate whorls of your ear in a scorching tease. "Let me have it one more time, babe."

That blatantly provocative endearment finally snapped the tenuous thread of your control. With a strangled sound of pure frustration, you seized Gen by the lapels of that rumpled shirt and crushed your mouth against his in a fierce, searing clash of lips and teeth and questing tongues.

You growled deep in your throat as you tugged him closer by the collar, using his own muscular weight to shove him backwards onto the disheveled futon. He landed with a whuff of expelled air, eyes blazing triumphant satisfaction at finally provoking this unrestrained response.

In one fluid motion, you swung a leg over to straddle Gen's powerful frame, pinning him beneath you with both hands braced on that chiseled chest. His smug grin only widened at the blatant display of aggression, hips canting upwards in a slow grind of his twitching cock against the inner crease of your thigh.

"There she is..." Gen's gravelly purr made the hair prickle deliciously at your nape. "That's my wildcat, all riled up and ready to pounce."

You snarled incoherently, fisting the fabric of his shirt until the seams strained against his broad shoulders. Gen's eyelids drifted to half-mast in pure, unabashed enjoyment of your dominance, making absolutely no move to throw off your weight or reverse positions.

Instead, his palms smoothed insolently up the flare of your hips, cupping your breasts over your suit to blaze scorching trails along the sensitive skin beneath as he languidly pulls your zipper down. Each calloused stroke of his thumbs over your newly freed nipples seemed deliberately calculated to provoke another breathless keen from your lips, another frustrated grind against his insistent cock.

"Fuck...you like getting me all worked up like this, don't you?" you bit out, fingers tangling almost painfully in those unruly locks.

Rather than reply with words, Gen simply angled his head in silent invitation, chin tilted in smoldering challenge. His tongue darted out to wet those full lips in a blatant tease.

A harsh exhale of capitulation gusted from you as you seized Gen's face in both hands and crashed your mouth against his in a molten, hungry clash. He swallowed your guttural moan of satisfaction like a man savoring the finest delicacy as your bodies strained and rolled together in familiar, incendiary tempos.

Gen's hands carded through your sweat-damped hair in blatant possession, but you swiftly captured those questing wrists in a punishing grip, pinning them against the mattress on either side of his head. A low, guttural groan rumbled from Gen's broad chest at your bold show of command.

"You like that, don't you Narumi?" you growled, leaning until your lips were a scorching hairsbreadth from his own. "Being handled so roughly...overpowered..."

Rather than answer, Gen simply held your smoldering stare, pupils blown wide with undisguised wanting. His muscular frame remained utterly pliant beneath your restraining weight.

Satisfied at his rapt surrender, you rolled your hips in one torturously slow grind, savoring the broken whimper Gen failed to stifle. His powerful arms tensed as if to throw you off, but you only tightened your grip on those pinioned wrists in silent warning.

"Don't even think about it, Captain," you purred, dipping to trail molten kisses along the corded column of Gen's neck. "This wildcat's just getting started putting you in your place."

Punctuating that statement, you sank your teeth into the fevered hollow just above Gen's thundering pulse. He sucked in a harsh breath, hips canting wantonly against yours as if seeking divine friction.

"F-Fuck...you're playing a dangerous game, gorgeous," Gen managed to grate out, words tapering into a gravelly keen as you worried that sensitized flesh between your teeth. "One you might not wanna...ahh...finish."

"Oh, I'm going to finish this..." You rasped the promise, hands roaming insolently over the grooved cut of Gen's abdomen. "I'm going to make you lose that insufferable swagger completely before I'm done with you, Narumi. Mark my words."

Gen's only response was a shuddering exhalation as you captured his wandering hands once more, guiding them over the hypersensitized flesh left deliciously bare by your unzipped suit. You drank in the undisguised rapture blazing across the hardened planes of your captain's features as he finally surrendered to your scorching possession.

[cavegirlpoems]

The Beast & The Church in 'Black Death Rising'

I'm writing a religious horror rpg, in which the End Of Days is in full swing in 15th century Europe. I figured it'd be worth it to talk about that game's religious perspective.

So I'm going to do something inadvisable, and talk about religion from a christian perspective. (religious/setting design ramblings under the cut)

Some context. I'm a quaker; for those less invested in minor christian dissenter sects, I'll give a brief summary. Quakers are a sect going back to the 17th century, with a strong focus on egaletarianism and individual conscience. No clergy or heirarchy, no formalised doctrines, and - historically and currently - a lot of focus on social justice issues. Honesty, equality, pacifism and simplicity as core value. So that's the overview.

This is, you will note, a stark contrast to a lot of what Christianity is currently, and has historically been. Which is to say, quite often on the side of the wealthy, the societally entrenched, and the oppressive.

I am also, as it happens, very openly and obviously queer. As you can imagine, this makes me really quite uncomfortable in a lot of 'christian spaces'.

So. Let's turn our attention to the Book of Revelations, as the various ideas in there are a lot of the game's inspiration. Revelations is written extremely abstractly, with dense metaphorical language rather than a direct accounting of events. There are, needless to say, a wide variety of ways to interpret the text, but I will focus on my own.

A key feature of Revelations is the subversion of religion; the idea of a false prophet turning religion away from its moral/spiritual purpose, and making it a tool for politics, leading to the rise of 'the beast' to power. It's made clear that as the beast seizes power, it goes on to use that power to persecute the outgroup (with whom the text's sympathies lie) and that a church controlled by and reverent of the beast becomes evil and totalitarian, leading to widespread suffering.

The parallels to the state of christianity in the modern day are, to my mind, quite apt. A wide faction - 'conservative christianity' to be polite about it, or christian nationalism to be more blunt - aligns itself with the oppresser over the oppressed, concerns itself with worldly wealth and power, and is actively and openly and inexorably tied to dangerous political forces. That mainstream christianity frequently acts in support of fascism is hard to miss.

There is a particular horror, I think, to seeing representations of one's faith hollowed out and distorted, emptied of their spiritual value and instead becoming a tool for evil. The perversion of what should be sacred has a huge potential for horror.

This is, after all, a particular horror one encounters in a regular basis in the real world. I mean, fuck, one simply needs to see Kenneth Copeland speak for 30 seconds to get a sense of something deeply, deeply wrong.

So, this is the horror the game seeks to capture and accentuate. The sense of what should be holy having been emptied out and used for evil. The twisting of faith to become a tool for fascism.

To this end, the game treats aspects of Revelations quite literally. The Beast is, in fact, the leader of a vast and horrible fascist empire that is the cause of misery on a vast scale. Key to this is the total cooption of the church. The 'pope' is a reanimated corpse issueing proclamations at the Beast's direction, and the church is an engine of propaganda and inquisition that serves to enforce the empire's orthodoxy and stoke hatred against the Empire's outgroups.

This is not to say that faith is absent, but those possessing true spiritual conviction (and with it, in some cases, the ability to perform miracles) are definitively outside the church; actual faith is the domain of religious dissenters and heretics. PC clerics are not members of the church, they're actively persecuted by that church for - essentially - their refusal to spiritually sell out.

(Also, critically, miracles are not the sole domain of christianity; the game treats Jewish and Muslim figures as equally capable of performing miracles, and grants relics associated with those religions equal potency to christian ones; what matters is spiritual conviction, not one's specific denomination).

Other aspects of The Beast's Empire followed from this. Inquisitors and paramilitary agents are common enemies, and the 'seven heads and ten horns' are taken to represent The Beasts inner circle of most powerful servants.

In particular, I've given the Beast's empire it's own form of magic, Defixion, with the name taken from old roman curse-tablets. Defixion is, essentially, the magic of spiritually selling out. In exchange for eroding the user's soul, they become bound to The Beast and his empire; this gives him incredible power over them, but also grants them power based on their position within the Empire's heirarchy. Importantly, it's totally, one-hundred-percent off limits to player characters; playing as the fascists simply exists outside the scope of the game. Instead, Defixion is an explanation for why the Empire's agents have scary monster stat-blocks.

The choice of what to make The Mark Of The Beast was surprisingly easy; it's a cross, the same one that is embraced by fascist groups such as Stormfront.

(This also ties in with the use of the inverted cross as a counter-cultural icon; it's historically been a symbol of humility before God, and in the modern age is associated with strongly anti-church sentiments. In a setting where the church has turned away from God and towards hateful political power, those two meanings can go hand in hand.)

In conclusion: "I know writers who use subtext, and they're all cowards."

[mysticmellowlove]

ENTITY CO - LEON

note; welcome to the first post from my new series, I'm hella stoked about this, give the people monster yans!

warnings; sub yan, sub male, a/b/o, monsterfucking, dom reader, yan male, male reader, possessive/territorial, monster caulk!, omega reader, anal,

Entity; Werewolf - Leon. Unnatural strength, enhanced senses, transforms under the light of the full moon, infectious, widespread, weak to silver

"I know you've had a long week O3." My lips pursed as I looked up towards the handler who looked after my section. ENTITY was a new and rising enterprise dealing with relocating hybridized 'monsters'. I, however, was an in-house monster which simply meant I'd be staying here for the rest of my life. It was not the best job but at the end of the day all my needs were fulfilled and I was only a couple of tasks below platinum, the tier when the real privileges set in.

"But we're having some trouble with Leon again, he's mid-rut and refuses to fuck any of our other omegas. You're the last one we can come to." The handler looked down at me from his balcony as I nestled into the furs that comprised my nest. I had just gotten done with helping two other alphas with their ruts and now... now they want me to do it all over again. I grit my teeth and tried my best to pretend as if I wasn't completely drained dry. Day after day of helping men who barely gave me another glance had really grinded my gears and now I have to help Leon?

Notorious for rejecting omegas, sometimes even going so far as to maim them and leave their dead bodies for his handlers to find, and prone to extreme violence and isolation... Leon was by far one of the worst werewolves held in ENTITY's facilities.

"So you want me to go in there and help him out?" I scoffed as I looked upwards. They nodded because, of course, it had to be my responsibility to deal with all the hardasses here. With a simple shrug and a sigh, I was on my way to the isolation ward.

The isolation ward is the home of the most dangerous monsters in the warehouse. It was darkened to their liking and the atmosphere was horrific. My instincts were going haywire. This place was awful, the complete opposite of a nice place to rest and create a nest. A bitter feeling grew in my stomach as I was escorted down the hallway by the isolation wardens.

We eventually stopped at one of the doors, Leon's name and species engraved into it. I shook my head in annoyance before the warden himself guided me inside. There were no formalities, no warnings, nothing but a small shuffle and the sound of a lock behind me. This wasn't a simple task, everyone was assuming I wasn't going to make it out of here. I grit my teeth at the gall they had to just sack their most useful omega like this.

However, with the task at hand I focused on the murky haziness of the room. I had to say the forest smell that seemed to permeate the sheets spread in the corner was calling to me, Leon smelt good as much as I hate to admit it.

Movement emerged from the blankets and there he was, the hulking beast that was Leon. He was shirtless, only a pair of beaten-up boxers covering what I knew to be a massive cock. Scars littered his chest as his yellow eyes seemed to pierce my soul from across the room. I hadn't really seen him around before but from the rumours I heard apparently he had been found up in the Alps. His beast was majestic white, mottled with old rusty stains from his time as an apex predator. Now? Now he was a lumbering hunk of meat. It was... sad in a way.

"You're mid-rut, rejecting all other omegas," I stated. I was stalling and I think he knew it as well as he sniffed at the air. I knew he wouldn't be able to scent slick on me, I was tired and not at all aroused to be in this position. Years of acting like someone I wasn't all because I got dragged here to this facility... it had worn me down.

"You smell like three other men." His voice was gravelly, a tone so deep that in any other circumstance it would send shivers down my spine. I swallowed my pride and walked forward, inspecting his makeshift 'nest' with slight disgust. I was wary about him sure but I also had a job to do. This was no place for someone like me to be, it was grungy and dark and hard.

I began to shed my shirt, letting it fall into the muddled mess of blankets below me before I was unceremoniously stopped by a guttural growl. My inner self froze at the sound as it reverberated around the room, frozen in fear as his clawed feet audibly approached me.

"Who the fuck did this?" He whispered low, his head leaning into my neck as he scented me, trying to find the last male I was with. I coughed to clear the uncomfortable feeling. Before I could say anything he slid his hand around my face and clasped my mouth shut.

"I know what you'll say, 'it was nothing' but it isn't is it. You don't know me but I've been waiting for you. Years..." The weight in his voice was palpable as I smelt the sweat and rolling scent from his hand. My muscles were taut as his claws trailed down to the bruises and scars on my back.

"They tried everything to get me to calm. I call them sacrifices, which they tried to appease me with when I arrived. But you, you were in the middle of it. A simple throwaway scent that I'd be tracking down for months after my arrival. Leather and lemon tang, so fucking indulgent." My eyes fluttered as I could do nothing but listen to him. I didn't remember that day at all, all I knew was that I was helping the newer omegas settle in, could my scent have entangled with theirs? Was that why he was able to sense me?

In a room full of ripened omegas he found my scent.

"I stalked the halls, cries and calls from all the other hybrids here couldn't get me off that fucking scent and just when I thought I found it... they locked me up here." He growled, his teeth beginning to nip at my neck, my gland. My eyes widened in alarm. There was one big rule between all the werewolves here, no marking. Absolutely no marking, we were here to be hired out after all. I felt my heartbeat rise as his teeth grew closer to my sweet spot. My legs grew weak but as I suspected he was holding me up, the hard muscles in his chest pressing against my now unclothed back.

The small trickle of slick that left me made me ashamed for a moment, to think that such an animalistic man could get me going like this after everything I had tried to do to solidify myself here. I didn't want to be an omega...

"Fuck, there you go. Getting wet for me now, aren't you? There's that smell I love so much. The bite of leather, the hint of lemon, the smell of sweat." He grunted as his hips rocked into my ass, his hard cock basically fighting to be free of his boxers.

"There's something about you, something I could sense from the very first time I detected you." He whispered, his free hand going to trail to my underwear, tugging on them until the elastic snapped back to my hips.

"You're exactly what I need, something no one else can give me." My breathing stuttered as his hand left my mouth and he pulled away. I turned to look at him, wondering if he meant what I thought he did. Did he know, how did he know? My mind seemed to fizzle out like a sparkler, I hadn't even met with him beforehand and he seemingly already knew everything about me.

He grabbed my hips and pulled me in, his towering figure loomed over me almost in a protective huddle.

"I know you want to." He whispered, his tone salacious as he looked me in the eye. His claws left my hips and wrapped around my wrists as he brought my hands upwards to wrap around his neck, bearing it to me. My breathing stuttered.

"Fucking ruin me omega, teach me who's the bitch in this relationship." And just like that I couldn't help the wetness gather in my boxers, nor could I stop myself from turning in his grasp and wrapping my arms around him. Harshly I pressed my mouth to his, taking advantage of his crouched height. It was all teeth and tongue, my teeth basically tore into his lips as I willed him to open it. His eyes fluttered shut as he let me in, not even competing with me as I explored his mouth.

He was hot-blooded against me, his arms crowding around me as he gently nudged me towards his gathering of blankets. I nearly recoiled at the dingy feeling and the harshness of the ground.

"First mode of action we're going to have to overhaul this horrific nest," I grunted as I flipped him over, with his help of course, and sat on his waist. He looked sheepishly up at me, a pretty pout on his lips.

"Sorry, I tried..." I silenced him by shoving my fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue.

"You said you wanted to be treated like a bitch? Then sit pretty and shut the fuck up." I growled as his pupils seemed to blow out, his eyes nearly completely enveloped in black. I pressed my hips into him, letting the sheer size of his cock nestle against my ass before I decided that enough was enough. I wanted him inside me, I wanted him to break at the feeling of me.

I pulled my hands back so I could undress myself. His eyes seemed to rove over my figure, the occasional grunt and growl leaving him as he took notice of the many marks my other 'partners' had left on me. I could basically feel the intensity roll of him, the heady scent of an angered alpha, one so similar to a mate protecting their own.

"Fuck, look at you. Bet I'll be able to slide right in." He groaned as his head fell back to the tangle of blankets behind him. A content sound left my throat as I looked at his bare neck. I could feel my hands tense as I fought the urge to nip at him.

"Please, let me feel you. Let me take you, let me become wholly yours." For a moment he sounded vulnerable as he looked up at me, a shine in his eyes. I reached behind me and grabbed his cock, pulsating and hot I eased him into my hole. If I weren't currently in the haze of sex I would've been embarrassed at the ease it went in, the amount of slick I had produced prompted no issue for his large dick to nestle inside me.

The sounds that reverberated around the room were primal and audacious. The sound of his cock rocking into me was punctuated with the squelch of my arousal. I breathed out a sigh as I felt that particular emptiness be filled.

His hips seemed to shudder at the feeling of being inside me, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let out an exhaustive groan. Immediately his hands found purchase on my hips but he didn't move me. He really was giving up all control to me, fighting against what I assumed to be his roaring instincts to let me fuck him into oblivion.

I did exactly that, raising and slamming my body down on him as if I was trying to impale myself on his cock. I felt it pulse in my ass, hitting all the spots that made me want to keen into him. My hands wrapped around his neck as I used him to drive myself down deeper... harder.

A hoarse growl left him as his eyes opened and watched me, my expression and my sweat-shined body above him.

"So fucking beautiful. Fuck!" He cried out at the brutal rhythm I had set for myself, lost in the feeling of ecstasy and domination.

"Take all of me, my cock, my breath, my life. It's all yours, whatever you want." He continued to babble on, his words breathy as I stole his air. I began to feel his cock swell inside me, anticipation pulled at my walls as I felt my own dick twitch. Like a sudden wave, I felt my orgasm come over me, sticky cum painted his chest as he growled out in satisfaction.

"That's right, mark me pretty boy. I belong to you, fuck I belong to you." His hands stroked my cock, pulling the last strings of cum from me. He was greedy as his finger traced over my lip, gathering the musk onto his hand before he licked it off. A rumble left him as he tasted me. I huffed as I slammed my hips down, half weary from the feeling of pleasure enveloping me, and felt his cock swell in my ass. His knot formed as I slumped down onto his chest, the feeling of sticky cum being shared between us. I could feel him in the most intimate parts of me, filling me up with his seed.

His hands went to the back of my head as he pressed me into his neck, the smell of his musk seemed to wrap around me like a blanket. I felt myself grow sleepy as I unwillingly nestled into him, unable to fight the sense of protection I felt around him as he enveloped my body completely.

"Sleep precious one, I'll be here when you wake." He hummed as I finally found myself letting my exhaustion take over me. My day had been long and even though I wanted to sleep in my own nest I found that being here wasn't so bad after all.

Leon coddled the male to his chest as he breathed out in tune with him. Finally, he had his precious omega in his arms. Since day one he had been looking for him, the one they called O3. How demeaning he thought, to be given a number instead of a name. But now he was here and he wasn't O3 anymore, not to him at least. His precious omega, his life, his love, his muse.

He didn't care about the blood he spilt in his endeavour to find him. All those other omegas couldn't even hold a candle to him. Their desperation and submission disgusted him, the wanton moans that were so obviously fake. Not like his omega, the guttural sounds from his chest were real and his alone. He made him feel that way, not anyone else. Not one of the other alphas he had been forced to service, never again.

The door to his 'cell' opened and his main warden walked in, in his hands a bag to clean up what they assumed would be a mess. They stopped in their tracks as they saw the two bundled up together. A feral growl left his throat as he watched them intently.

"Have his stuff moved here." He said as he looked at them, their eyes surveying the room as if it were hiding something. When they didn't answer he gently pulled himself out of his warmth and laid him against the blankets.

He stood to his full height, uncaring about his slicked cock as he prowled over to the warden. Before they could do anything his hands were around their neck, heaving them up into the air.

"They're mine." He growled, his eyes flashing a disturbing yellow as he bared his teeth to them. He looked towards the camera in the hallway outside, knowing that others would be watching him. With a snide grin, he brought his other hand to the warden's head and dug his claws into them.

Their skull broke with a satisfying pop.

His eyes locked onto the camera, his mind making up what would be happening in the warden's offices at this very moment. He threw the limp body outside of his cell and turned around swiftly, letting the metal door click shut behind him.

[nectardaddy]

notebook paper | hinata shoyo

chapter seven | it's a party [ ✎ ]

masterlist

ignore timestamps

Putting the car in park, and quickly sending out an I'm here text, he swore he found himself spiraling. Leg bouncing in a methodical rhythm as anxiety got the best of him, and brown eyes flickered to the door just outside his car window.

"Man, I think I'm already drunk," a loud voice from the back of the car rang out, followed by an, even more obnoxious, laugh.

"We're not even there yet! If you puke in this car with me in it, Bo, I'll kill you," the man next to him grumbled before shifting his eyes out the window. "Holy shit, pipsqueak, is that her?"

Seeing the frame of a woman exit the door he was previously looking at, he couldn't help but grin. A smile that pulled hard on his cheeks before looking back at his friends, "yeah!"

"My man can pull!" The loud voice returning in a cheer as he leaned, far over, Oikawa to look out the window. "Dude, you weren't kidding! She's pretty!" Before he could say anything else, he was shoved off harshly, followed by a rough "get off of me!"

"I know!" Matching the energy of Bokuto as he turned his head to look at her, "I can't believe she said yes! This is like the greatest day of my life!"

But the loud voices abruptly stopped as the car door opened and shut, the woman getting in with a smile and a soft chuckle. "I didn't know this was the greatest day of your life. I thought I was pretty boring, honestly."

Hinata's cheeks burned at her words, and his friend's laughter that followed made him sink in his seat. "You heard that?" Hands finding themselves in auburn hair as he let out a nervous chuckle.

"You were yelling, it was hard not to. But thanks." Giving him a small smile that made his heart skip a beat.

A simple statement that made Oikawa cackle with laughter at his roommate's reaction. "Holy shit! Shrimpy look at your face!"

"Shrimpy?" She asked, a laugh leaving her lips as she looked back at the brunette, "I've heard better insults from middle schoolers."

"Oh my god! Sho, she's fucking awesome!" Bokuto grabbed his friend's shoulders from behind, reaching from the backseat and shaking him. Making the man laugh in return, anxiety washing away from Bokuto's strong personality. Stark hazel eyes flickered over to her, a drunken smile upon his lips. "Tonight is gonna' be so much fun!"

One single sentence held the tone for the evening.

Brown eyes watched as she laughed at every joke, smile at him like no one else was in the room, and take his hand when he offered to dance with her - and, oh my god, were the only words in his head when she did.

Taking in every inch of her in awe was an understatement - he was a doomed man. The way she flourished in conversation with him - speaking of things that interested her, silly memories from the past, right down to outrageous stories from school - made him all but reel.

He swore he fell hard for her that night, skinning his own knees from the force of it. Finding himself walking her to her door by the end of the evening, out of generosity, and for the sole fact he simply couldn't bring himself to see the night end. He hoped this wasn't an outlandish fairytale, where she would whisk herself off at the stoke of midnight.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" The question slipping easily from his tongue just as her hand reached for the doorknob; but he watched as his hopes slipped right through his fingers as her smile faltered.

"Teaching," she said with a wry smile. "And after I'm probably gonna' sleep for the rest of the day, honestly." At least she was honest, he thought.

"Right, I'm sorry." Giving her a nervous chuckle in response after, "I did keep you out pretty late."

"Don't worry about it, I had a lot of fun."

"So did I."

It wasn't as if he expected anything from the woman, he wholeheartedly didn't even believe she would agree to going today anyway. But he felt his heart strings pull as she opened her door, stopping in the door way to give him a smile. "I'll text you, ok?"

"Alright, have a good night."

"Have a good night, shrimpy."

And just like that, she closed the door, leaving him with a silly grin on his lips.

I'm sorry for having one measly screenshot - I got really into the writing

but I am so in love with this man!!

yn changed his contact name to shrimpy <3

hinata can fucking dance oh my god

he does that really cheesy shit where he took her hand and spun her around (giggling and kicking my feet just thinking about it he's adorable)

he's down horrendously now - he doesn't care if it's been a few days

both bokuto and oikawa were passed tf out in his car and he had to shake them awake when they got home

yn was very tempted to wake up suga and tell him about how the night went

taglist under cut

@muyyie @wyrcan @eggyrocks @eclecticeggknightpsychic @nbcvs

@marzzn @naweirdo @yukii-1 @girlkissersco @yuminako @kunimix

@empress-pug-pug @cherrypieyourface @lvtilzs @punkhazardlaw @localgaytrainwreck

@crownj1min @sereniteav @madiexuberant @st4rdusttx @chizunata

@le000xxgrd

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Subbing (ha!) via ask so I can be anon

I would give my firstborn for you to write just about any M/F especially if it was another CE/Reader like "You Heard the Rumour about these Legs."

Honestly I will read and adore anything you write but that is one of my absolute all time fics and I'd go absolutely feral for more like it

"You Heard The Rumors 'Bout These Legs, Well I'm The One Who Spread 'Em"

Lmao, good to know 👀 Though I promise I don't need your firstborn 💀💀 and thank you, I'm so glad you enjoy my writing! 😘

So, of course, taking inspiration from your ask and the man, the myth, the legend himself--

Chris Evans × female!reader with tonguing, fingering, fucking, and jerking off. All that fun shit 😏

Chris is many things to many people. To you, though, Chris has always been a gentleman in and out of the proverbial bedroom (or the very literal bedroom, kitchen, living room, or car, or... y'know it doesn't matter where, just that you're alone and willing. And how could you not be willing when he looks and acts like that, anything he wants with you, he can have. You shiver just thinking about it). Chris always starts as a gentleman, at least.

As foreplay melts into something hotter and thicker, totally irrestable as the lust between you burned and crackled, Chris is still polite and kind and even serving toward you, yet...

Once he's spent some good time lavishing attention on you, pulling an orgasm or a few from you as if you're a marionette on strings that he's mastered and he can make fold and sing however he pleases, some of that polite nature melts away. It's not that he's rude. It's simply primal--and it's so goddamn sexy. You can hardly take it, your thighs pressing together, flexing, trying to make sense of the sticky, hot wash of arousal that always comes crashing over you. Because, damn, as much as you ache when he takes care to make sure your filled with lust and sparks, walking you closer and closer and closer to the edge with each touch, making you cum and then making you cum again, it's worse, better, when his patience is worn down, thinned, and he gets swept up in the pulsing, persuasive current of his arousal. The sensation buzzes underneath his skin like a live wire that demands his attention. He loses himself to it. So, suddenly, there's no room to think about giving you, and you alone, more and more. He has to take something for himself.

You want him to take it all.

Take you.

Have you.

Fuck you.

You've had enough. You don't need more when he gets like that; you could subsist off of the second-hand pleasure from him.

Christ.

It makes you feel sinful and powerful, the way he takes his pleasure from you. How he reacts to you. How he can't have enough of you. You're just too damn much for him to stand in the most erotic way.

Yeah, yeah, he can have you.

This time, when he reaches that point--his flesh and muscle melted down, leaving no strength, no defense to resist the bone-deep need he feels--he's already done so much. Given you so much.

Jesus Christ.

He's already gone down on you, his mouth putting in work between your legs, shameless and unrestrained with his tongue and lips and just that daring, dangerous hint of teeth with the sharp, heated edges of his beard.

You came with his beard scratching against your sensitive skin, hot, wet, hot, wet, so hot and wet, sofuckingwet, making you feel so wet. Shivering with the friction of his bearded jaw as it fucking started a fire but the fire is molten liquid that feels as if it's almost gushing from inside you. Flames consuming your body from the inside out. Fuck, Chris knows just how to stoke the flames, too. He strokes and rubs and presses with his tongue and lips and bearded jaw, even his nose, bumping your clit at the fucking perfect moment, keeping you purring. Roaring. If he's not fucking careful you'll burn the house down.

Ah!

He's already fingered you, too, working you to the brink and making you crash over it with his thick fingers curling inside you.

His fingers urge c'mere, c'mere, c'mere from within you, beckoning against that spot that makes your eyes roll back, a gasping moan overflowing from your lips, humid and all rasping breath. You'll go anywhere he tells you to, and you won't think twice, your back arching into a curve so deep you know you'll feel it in your muscles later. You don't care. You just want him to do it again.

A-again, oh, God, please, again, Chris!

And he's already fucked you, too. His rhythm filthy and fluid, unstopping, just building gloriously, with his thrusts carving deep enough to make you pant, at just the right angle to leave your nails digging into his shoulders, and then, God, then, sliding his hand sensually, heavily down your stomach to press the heel of his palm against your clit as he works, leaving you unable to shut your mouth, nearly drooling. Every time he thrusts inside you, your body arches and shudders as if possessed by animal lust and your clit rubs against his palm like a firework exploding.

Arousal curled so tightly inside you that it hurt. The pressure against your clit, the thickness of him inside you, the sounds of your bodies together adding to it divinely. Deliciously. God. God, it was all just biting and rough enough that you came clenching desperately around his cock, split open yet tangled into a tight, tight, tight knot.

Now, exhausted and just on the knifes edge of raw, pain mixing into your pleasure like venom that burns so sweetly yet leaves you limp and helpless, you're somehow still heated. You blame him. Jesus Christ. He's a fucking dog under all that pretty and polite. Bastard. How he keeps fucking fuck-just fucking going is beyond you sometimes. You're never going to tell him that, though. Then he might stop.

Nothing could be worse than him stopping.

You're hot everywhere and you can feel yourself dripping when he pulls his cock out of you with a lewd squelch that just fucking ties back into your fever. Bastard. He's the worst. How could he do this to you!? Oh, God, that fucking soaked sound echos through your head--his dick pulling out of your clenching pussy, clenching trying to fucking keep him where he belongs, deep and heavy inside you--and turns your vision to static. More and more, the longer you have to deal with that on loop in your head without anything other sensory input to drown it out and leave you thoughtless, you turn into static.

Squelch.

You hear it. You feel it. You're soaked.

Yet, he doesn't fuck back in, splitting you again, and finish like you expect. Like you want. You ache without him, you're so open, shivering and almost cold without the heat of him draped across you--shoved inside you.

Instead of fucking you until he cums, thrusts sloppier and messier now that he's focused on the pleasure tearing through him on a rampage, his hands glide over your goosebump-ed, slick skin. You're sweating so badly. You're leaking, too. More. Dripping. You need him. You don't need more, you might not be able to cum again, too much too soon, too good, but you want him to do whatever he wants to you. Desperately, you want it. It's all you can think about. All-consuming and ravenous.

As you shiver, weak and strung out, he turns your spread, melted body over, letting you soak into the sheets like butter on hot toast, and pulls you onto your knees.

Just onto your knees, getting them underneath you. He doesn't bother to untangle your fists from the messy sheets when you grab them, needing something to hold onto as anticipation wracks you. Despite how weak you feel, over-satiated and shaking, he knows he won't be able to rip you off of them. Fisting the sheets, you're too overwhelmed and wound too tight despite having cum multiple times already. He just needs you on your knees. He just--

He just needs you.

He can have you for his own desires. Anything. Everything.

Your blushing face and tits are pressed wantonly into the mused bed as your chest heaves. You're moaning wetly, breathily, into the mattress, hardly muffled at all with the lust he stirs in you as his big, heavy hands run up your back. His blunt fingernails stretch just a touch, that delicious bit of recklessness surging through. It feels so good. It must look good, too, because he groans deeply as you instinctively arch for him. And, oh, fuck--

Oh.

Oh, yesss.

You urgently fight your shaking, well-used muscles to arch just a little deeper, spread your thighs just a bit wider, and grasp the sheets just a little bit more in response to the dizzying slick sounds of his fist flying tightly over his cock. He's wet, too. Dripping with you. Using your wetness to slick himself. So shameless about it. And, shit, his voice chases the desperate sounds of he grips himself, a noise of agonized arousal, almost too turned on by you. A kick to the chest. Painful with how he's held off, devastated by the way it feels to let go.

It feels so good. It rolls off of him in waves as he grits out a few swears from behind you, jerking himself off frantically, that Boston accent coming out full force, cutting his filthy mouthed swears off at the end.

Fuckin', Jesus fuckin' Christ, baby.

Oh, the way that fills you with hot, clenching need all over again...

Want isn't a strong enough word. Need isn't strong enough, either. The way it makes you feel is insane; the way he makes you feel is insane with his eyes heated as they stare at your body, dragging across your skin in the most sultry way, all but sizzling, gazing at you so intensely you feel it through your whole body. Ripples of pleasure, just from being so thoroughly enjoyed. Stared at like that.

Fuck, it's like being prey, but you want it. You want to be torn into. You gasp with anticipation every time his teeth loom nearer, poised to bite down and make a feast of you--the sticky, leaking head of his cock keeps brushing hotly against your ass, his breath humid as it fans out against your skin. He's gone from kneeling upright behind you, taking you in, to curling forward, so attracted to you it's like gravity. Crumbling. He just can't help it.

Again, again, and again, his hips jerk forward instinctively. Fucking forward. Bucking needily. And you just keep choking on the sensation of his cock against your ass, smearing his pre-cum and your own slick wetness into you. God. Your thighs slide apart wider without your conscious mind having anything to say about it. He's so painstakingly close.

He could just--

He could slide right in. You're so wet. Wetter now, probably, then he was when he was inside you. It's just building. Building. Soaking. You're dripping, you swear it, melting from the inside out. If only he'd just--

He would hardly have to shift and he could fuck right into you!

He could do no work at all and shove himself inside, go back to filling you up. Fucking you hard. Carving space for himself inside your hot, wet, tight body and make you heavy with cock.

You want it so bad that your pussy throbs with your pounding heart. Frantic. A raw moan comes careening out of your mouth. You didn't even realize your mouth was still wide open, panting, chest heaving, heart racing faster.

As you struggle to breathe around the rising immense arousal inside you despite your emptied exhaustion from orgasming before, all the oxygen you get just makes you ignite more. Feeding the fire. Combusting hotly. Brightly. You feel all swollen and tight. Wet. You can hardly take it.

You can't take it!

Next, something of a whine surges out of your lungs. With each heave of your chest, you can feel your hard nipples brush against the sheets. You just feel tighter and tighter. Each time his cock brushes you, just the tip, each wet squelch of his fist, speeding up now, chasing and urgent, each sound he let's out, each gruff word he let's slip, swearing and saying your name, admiring you, using you, desperate to claim you until--

Ah, ah, ah! Ohh, God!

He does.

He cums wet and filthy across your presented ass with the most delicious sound and all the muscles under your too tight, feverish skin ripple all at once. And you sigh roughly. Raw, sandpaper edges to the sound. You're still fucking throbbing but you could--you could live, you could die happily with the sensation of his release soaking into your skin. You would ache but it would be more than enough, enough now and enough later to dive between your own thighs and touch yourself when he's not home later, on set, working, dipping your fingers into your own mess, stifling your sounds into his pillow, dreaming of the way he makes you feel, cumming to what he does to you.

You don't ache for long, though. You hardly have the time to think, to breathe before he's there. Here. He has you.

All he has to do to get you off is drag his fingers through the mess he's made across your ass and use it, as if he needs it, you're so drenched, to rub tight, fast circles around your clit.

OH!

It shocks you.

Electric.

So fittingly, lightning fast, one of your hands darts down to hold his hand there, fingers around his wrist as you uncontrollably gasp and plead for him to do that, yes, please, more, oh, ohh, Chris, yes! Just! Mmmgh! Just like th-thaaat! Reaching forward between your legs and touching, rubbing, merciless where you're most swollen and sensitive is nearly crewl at this point. It's murder. You mewl, grinding into the pressure, riding and riding the waves. It lasts. It really fucking lasts.

By the time you're done, you're more than exhausted and drenched. You already were those things, so what are you now? Not that it matters. You can't think. Your brain has turned to liquid and dripped out of your ears.

Giving up, your thighs slide apart shakily, leaving your heated, swollen slit to be revealed to the sex-thick air of the bedroom as you run across the bed like spilled ink, spread open and exposed. Messy. With the last of the air in your tender chest, you gasp--the air feels so shockingly cold, caressing your flesh. But you can't even speak to say so. It's so much. Overwhelming in every way. How does he do this to you? How does he manage to get so much from you? How does he manage to be kind and servicing and selfish and a fucking bastard? It's not fair! He drives you out of your mind, out of your body.

I hope that suffices 😘

[kozh-lucium]

BG3 Patch 6 teaser

Sooo... yeah. About that tweet Larian dropped. The one with Astarion and Gale. You know, as someone who used to ship them, I FUCKING HATE IT. Wtf Larian.

Honestly, it's not the D/S nature of that kiss that bothered me, but the expression of Gale AND the fact that they use him to showcase this kiss. Gale looks like he's so scared and ready to cry.

I get they want to do the biggest ship on the fandom, since previously we get SH/Laezel and Halsin/Astarion, but c'mon, Gale, who has been on the groomed/manipulated relationship before? The guy who very much implied that d/s isn't his cup of tea? Sure let's use that guy (/s).

I mean... ugh I get it, I probably overthinking it and it's simply from marketing purpose. But sorry I can't change how I feel that easily.

Moreso when Gale has been the butt of so many (sometimes degrading) jokes, both from the community and Larian itself.

And of course many people love that kiss simply because "Astarion is so hot there uwu". Not that I disagree (about astarion in that regard) nor wanting to speak ill of them, but idk, it's just feel a bit hypocritical when they're picking pitchfork whenever Astarion is depicted is a slightly degrading manner but is okay with other companions (especially Gale) is on the receiving end.

Tl;dr I'm on overthinking mode and absolutely hate how Larian decided to throw gasoline to the fire and stoke the already horny BG3 fandom.

[aspiringnexu]

Okay, so, Alastor theory. As far as I know nobody's discussed why Alastor ever made such an apparently disadvantageous deal.

I mean, his power is apparently leashed. He cannot access his true strength. He essentially handicapped himself in Hell. Alastor detests not being in control, he craves power because it nets him control and therefore nets him safety and security, a very rare commodity for a demon. Even an Overlord.

So why the hell would Alastor make such a shitty deal? He's a dealmaker, he knows how this works, it can't just be the result of tricky wording, there must have been something else at play.

Additionally, I'm in the camp that its Eve that has something to do with it. Lilith makes sense of a sort but why would she leash Alastor and then have him help Charlie with a project that would piss off Heaven? She's Lilith, she knows that trying to bypass the initial judgement and redeeming yourself would upset the bigwigs in Heaven. She knows they don't like having their rules bent and twisted. She gains nothing from pissing off the Heavenly Host by indirectly helping her daughter. She made a mysterious deal with Adam to get into Heaven, why would she knowingly jeopardise that?

But why would Eve care? Simple. She feels like Lucifer and Lilith betrayed her by gifting her the apple from the Tree of Knowledge. They betrayed her and she was forced into a life of pain and suffering with a husband who she realised didn't truly love her and children who started to turn on each other the moment they could. And then that same husband (or ex-husband by that point) turns around millennia later and gets Lilith into Heaven.

What the fuck?

So Eve decides that the best way to sort this out is to do what Lilith supposedly did. Betrayal disguised as assistance. Charlie is a well-known bleeding heart by now, all Eve need do is find a way to stoke that altruism until it becomes a Problem that Heaven needs to solve. Poke the altruistic bear enough and that Problem will blossom into a Shitstorm that'll drag Lilith off of her cosy perch in Heaven to sort out her wayward daughter and try to avoid Heaven deciding to exterminate every demon in Hell. Plus it'll give Adam a headache which is only a plus in Eve's eyes. And what better way to help the Princess than gift-wrapping Hell's most powerful Overlord and depositing him on her doorstep?

Her ultimate goal might be provoking an all-out war or simply petty-revenge that'll eventually get out of hand but I digress.

How does she persuade Alastor to accept such a shitty, hampering, restricting joke of a deal?

Again, simple. She's in Heaven and as such has access to angelic steel and a plethora of souls. Including Alastor's mother. The only person he ever truly loved in his life.

I'm willing to bet Alastor would do anything to safeguard his mother. Even selling his own soul.

Of course there's still the seven-year gap to tackle but who says Alastor didn't spend those seven years in Heaven? Maybe Eve managed to smuggle him up there and disguise him, let him enjoy seven years of bliss by his mother's side before blindsiding him with her ultimatum. Makes the clipped wings comment more literal.

Just my thoughts, of course, but I really can't see why else Alastor would sign his own soul away if not to protect the one person he lets himself love. He hardly made the deal for power if the deal restricted his powers and he was certainly in no danger from the other Overlords. So he made the deal, he saved his mother, but that doesn't mean he's not gonna try to find a way out of it.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Can you please make a continuation to tantra? 🥺 I Loved that one smm

Gonna combine these two because it just makes sense!

Love's Sweet Embrace

(AKA Tantra PT.2)

Pavitr x Wife!Reader

(Pavitr and Reader are adults in this fic.)

TW/CW: Smut, NSFW, sex, protected sex (condom), piv sex, fluff, aftercare, Pavitr being an angel husband

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: We all know the P-Man would be the sweetest in terms of aftercare. Also I'm so sorry there are so many backlogged requests asdfghjkl. They're gonna be paused until I can catch up with them!

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

So many times have you heard people coo and giggle about how you and Pavitr were so in love. So many times did old ladies grin and pat your hand, telling you how they were young once, too, when Pavitr simply couldn't stop kissing you in public.

You two had a blissful marriage in the short few months after the wedding. It was all going so wonderfully, it was like a dream come true; the kind of love Pavitr poured over you like warm honey, and the love you peppered all over his body with tiny kisses and sweet words.

You'd also learned that now that he didn't have to really hide it... Pavitr adored your breasts. Whenever he came home, he would bury his face in-between them. Whenever you snuggled, he'd bury his face into them.

You joked and said he had an addiction.

"Not an addiction. An obsession." He grinned up at you.

"Is there a difference?" You snorted, running your fingers through his hair.

"Uh.... Well. Uh..."

"Like I said." You grinned, booping his nose.

Another thing you learned was that Pavitr was interesting in the bedroom. And the living room. And the bathroom.

And that one time on the dining table...

The tantric sex that he'd tried with you was a favorite of his. He loved slow sex, and he knew just how badly it drove you insane.

He took his time with you, every single time, stoking the flames and pushing your buttons, not stopping until your mind was a haze and your clit was so sensitive you could cum from a puff of air.

It was maddening how much he enjoyed taking things slow. And was even more insane how you loved it yourself...

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

"P-Pavitr, please..." You whined, arching your back off the bed as he slowly rolled his hips into yours, his cock sinking slowly into your wet, needy pussy.

"I--I know." He groaned, biting his lip as he looked down at you, taking in your needy, whiny state.

God, you were gorgeous. The way your hands gripped the sheets, the way your sweat rolled off your body, how your eyes kept rolling and your lashes brushed your cheeks.

Hia gorgeous wife, the absolute love and treasure of his life. His bright shining star in the sky.

There weren't enough words for him to describe you and what you meant to him, not enough words to translate or even speak.

Your heels pressed into the dips in his back, forcing him deeper into you as you moaned loudly, your pussy gripping him so tight he thought you were choking the air out of him just from his dick alone.

When your orgasm hit you, he doubled over you, slowly thrusting; his pace slightly quickened but still slow as he gently helped you ride out your orgasm.

He buried his nose in your hair and made a soft noise, a sound bordering on a whine and a guttural moan as your nails bit into his shoulders.

"Pav--" You hiccup softly, your hips sore and tired from the exhausting and same-as-always slow sex session. You were exhausted, sweaty and out of breath.

"It's okay..." You breathe, kissing his cheek and panting in his ear.

"It's okay, go on."

Your airy and fucked-out voice is what ultimately pushed him over that edge he was teetering on, his hips stuttering into yours in less coordinated, loose thrusts as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and gripping you tight as he pumped his load into the condom wrapped snugly around his cock.

Now that you were married it was off and on when you would use protection. A bit reckless, but you both had so much trust in one another that you'd support each other no matter what life threw at you.

You shared breaths on messy, sweet kisses, tongues dancing in a lewd tango as he pulled his softening cock out of you, causing you to whimper at the loss of him.

"Go on and rest, lovie, m'kay?" Pavitr said to you, in between sweet kisses he planted all over your face.

"Mhmm..." You hummed, dropping your head onto the pillows as Pavitr slowly pulled himself off of you. Your body felt cold and barren without his warmth around you, and you pouted at the loss as he walked away and into the bathroom. But, you were too exhausted to care.

You were a little relieved Pavitr didn't want to try for a round two. From the long, slow sex and the tiring day you had at work? You were dead exhausted.

You weren't aware how much time had passed or even when precisely you nodded off, until you felt yourself being scooped up and being carried through the air.

"Pavitr?" You asked, your voice drowsy as he carried you into the bathroom.

"Easy there, babygirl." Pavitr smiled, kissing your temple as he carried you past the door.

You looked around and saw two candles lit, your favorite scent. When your eyes dragged to the bathtub, you saw the tub was full of nice steaming water, bubbles, and what looks like a bath bomb had been dropped in, making the water shine with a pearlescent sheen.

He set you down and gave a sheepish grin when you looked back at him.

"Pav?" You balked.

"C'mon! You know me, I'm all for aftercare! And besides, you are the best wife ever. I gotta make sure my girl knows how awesome she is!" He said, with a flip of his hair.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and bumped your nose to his, a giddy smile on your lips.

"Get in with me?"

He looked at you, his warm, dark eyes gazing at you with a love-drunk look. "Sure."

The bath was amazing, the water emanating a soft strawberry scent as you both sunk in. You could feel the oils moisturize your skin, the light, body-safe glitter making your skin shine.

Pavitr hummed as he sat behind you, massaging your shoulders with his thumbs, easing the knots and tension from your back.

"God, yes... Please keep going." You groaned, brows pinched together as that electrifying sensation spread through you as his skilled hands eased every tough point of muscle, every bit of tension simply melting away like hot butter.

When you relaxed against him, Pavitr wrapped his arms around you, his athletic body wrapped so snugly around yours in the cramped space of your bathtub.

"Feeling better?" He asked you, your hands twining together in the water.

"Mhmmm..." You sigh, looking down at your left hands, matching bands shining brightly in your ring fingers.

"Good. You've been working so hard, lately, babe." He murmurs, planting a kiss to your shoulder.

"I know, we just have that stupid quota to meet..." You groan.

"Mmh." Pavitr huffed. "But still, you're such a hard worker, you deserve a break."

"I deserve a break?" You giggle, turning to look at him. "You are a damn superhero! If anyone deserves a break, it's you!"

Pavitr grinned, his cheeks flushing a bit. Never fails, your gorgeous husband would always blush like a schoolboy when you said things like that about him.

"Well... I'm used to that, and I've found a bit of work/life balance. Your boss is just using you as a mule at this point." He says softly.

He buried his face in the crook of your shoulder.

"That and... well... I kinda did a number on you tonight." He mumbled sheepishly.

You grin and squeeze his hands in yours.

"Well... if anything, you're certainly, thorough. You won't catch me complaining every time you put my legs out of commission." You quip playfully.

You couldn't contain the fit of giggles that erupted out of you at Pavitr's embarrassed squeak.

"Babe!"

[jeffgerstmann]

So apparently AEW pays well and that's bad?

I know a couple of current WWE folks who definitely got better contracts simply because AEW existed and, thus, created a world where people might jump ship and go somewhere else.

But yeah, I don't know, people are fuckin' crazy. That said, with all of the recent free agent talk going around and that article that is all "WWE needs to look in the mirror about why they keep losing free agents to AEW," I think that's a little off the mark.

Like, yes, in a theoretical, big-picture kind of way the WWE should probably ask themselves why people would want to work anywhere else. And they can chalk it up to "well, we've had some negative press lately" or "this person just didn't want to work as many dates" or whatever. Each case will be different. But I think in the three recent cases cited, there are very real life reasons why none of those three would go with WWE. It's great that the offer from AEW was better and, honestly, I think those signees will easily find more success in AEW than they would in WWE.

Like let's not kid ourselves here: WWE could have offered Okada a fuckton of money, but would he actually make a meaningful mark in the WWE? He'd come in, the announcers would have to spend a ton of time educating the audience on why he matters because most of their audience doesn't watch anything else, and he'd probably just end up being the next foreign heel. The types of great matches he had in NJPW aren't really the kinds of things that WWE is looking for or especially needs more of. They'd probably rush him into a main event program for three months or so and then do something embarrassing with him. He'd be tagging with Nakamura in a team with a vaguely racist-sounding name or something shitty like that. He'd be another amazing performer in search of a meaningful storyline and the WWE's midcard is fucking stuffed full of guys like that right now. He'd be losing to Karrion Kross by Survivor Series.

Tack on the notion that WWE's business is doing really well and they're selling tickets everywhere they go and inventing new, more evil forms of revenue all the time and it's easy to see that WWE doesn't need Okada. They need to be making sure that they have a fresh crop of young talent ready to take over when the current headliners fall off or move on. At 36, Okada isn't quite that guy.

However, Okada is a great fit for AEW and its audience. Too good, actually. I mean I don't think he'll be a "needle mover" on the ratings because anyone in this country who knows who Okada even is already watches AEW. They're super-serving their audience. They're "building golden toilets" for their fanbase. As someone who really likes that shit, I'm stoked. But the weirdo ratings nuts online who live and die by television ratings are melting down over "is Okada a draw or not" or something. And I think it'd probably be obvious to anyone who really sat down and thought about it that Okada wasn't ever going to drag in a whole new American audience.

I'd say mostly the same thing about Ospreay. He'd become the leader of the Catch Wrestling Crew or whatever the fuck they're called now.

The other thing I'd say is that, over time, a better program will probably attract a larger audience. So AEW's programming is better by way of these new signings. They're great performers and I think they both have the ability to be super big in the US for years to come, provided they're working somewhere that plays to their strengths.

Bringing Sasha Banks over to AEW has a chance to bring in new audience since she had a level of fame here in the States already and, hey, maybe fans of hers weren't already watching AEW. It's possible! Punk did it, right? We'll see. That might immediately make her more valuable than Ospreay and Okada. That said, there are already a ton of women that I'd love to see more of on AEW TV, so inserting another star at the top of that division kinda rubs me the wrong way.

Either way, I think these three specific cases are, well, specific enough that trying to use this to claim that WWE is "losing out" on this free agency stuff is probably wrong. They know how much they're willing to spend on an individual talent, they've been at this long enough to have a pretty good idea how some of these people are likely to monetize once they get there, and they're simply not going to overspend on any talent anymore because they're really focused on trying to bring in new talent and raise them up through their system. For all we know, AEW overspent on all three.

But they aren't spending my money, so fuck it! It's awesome! I only get mad when the people I want to see are locked behind the ROH paywall. Like Athena! Put her on real TV, she's fantastic! What the fuck!

[blacklegsanjiii]

North Blue Language CH. 1

Pairing: Dracule Mihawk x Vinsmoke Sora

Can also be read on AO3 here!

CH 2! CH 3! CH 4! CH 5! CH 6!

Sora holds herself with the grace of royalty and being from the North Blue, where much was in ruins at that moment, he could see it.

Sanji knows his mom has been through hell, he does. She poisoned herself to reverse what his father had done to him and his brothers when they were in the womb and it only worked on him. That's why he's stealing from the little boat, because he owes it to her to make sure they can eat since she's so sick. He chokes as a hand fists into his shirt and pulls him back and Sanji is eye to eye with Dracule Mihawk and oh he fucked up. 

“I'm sorry!” Sanji exclaims dropping what little he had grabbed, which was a loaf of bread and three cans of food. Mihawk looks over the dropped items and then the boy. He pulls the kid off the boat and keeping his hand fisted in his shirt pulls him onto the main road way near the docks. Sanji doesn't say anything and instead tries to follow as best he can lest the swordsman kills him or his mother.

“Where the hell is the orphanage on this damned island?” The man growls before heading off and dragging Sanji with. 

“I'm not an orphan.” Sanji replies weakly trying to look for the abandoned shack that held his mother. 

“Then perhaps your mother should have raised you better.” Mihawk mutters as the boy began twisting his hold. “Quit that.”

“Don't talk about my mother like that!” Sanji seethes. They continue walking, Sanji gripping Mihawk's hand to keep him from ripping the shirt more than it already was when Sanji sticks a finger out pointing. “I live there.” 

“And?” Mihawk growls, dragging the boy further still.

“My mother is there, she's sick, I have to get back to her.” Sanji says, struggling with a new vigor. Mihawk drags him to the derelict building and almost breaks the door as he slams it open and finds a woman, who looks a lot like the boy he has in his hand. They're both very light blond and have sea blue eyes and are very thin. She looks like she's on her way to death’s door if Mihawk is honest. 

“Sanji? What did you do?” She asks as Mihawk let him go and Sanji ran to her, arms wrapped around each other he mumbles his answer to her shoulder. “I'm sorry,” she looks to Mihawk, “I'll make sure he never does it again.” 

“Given the circumstances it’s understandable.” Mihawk states which is as close to forgiveness as he'll give, usually. “You're not from here.” He catches them off guard with that.

“No, we're from the North Blue.” She nods. 

“And what brought you to the East Blue?” Mihawk asks.

“I had to save my son.” She gave Mihawk a look and it stoked something inside the man. She held herself with the grace of royalty and being from the North Blue, where much was in ruins at that moment, he could see it.

“Come with me.” He says, shocking everyone in the shack.

“What?” The woman asked. “You don't even know us.” She argues.

“I can tell you'll both die here without help.” Mihawk says. “You called him Sanji earlier.” The woman and the boy looked at each other, the silent conversation ended with the woman nodding at him. “Then let's get going.” Mihawk orders. The boy stood and helps his mother who is fairly weak. They walk slowly back to the coffin ship, Mihawk glared down any onlookers who dared to simply whisper or gawk.

Once they were settled and Mihawk split the loaf of bread between them and got the ship moving did the woman speak again.

“Why?” Was all she asked and Mihawk took his eyes off the ocean to look.

“You know how to keep a secret.” Mihawk answers and she nods. They sail for two days before reaching an island that knew Mihawk well enough to not ask questions. He also learns Sanji and his mother, Sora, had been struggling for a good few months. They didn't explain much, other than that Sanji had been trying to work to keep them afloat but a child would never be paid much, even if they were better than an adult. 

“You said you had to save your son, why?” Mihawk asks, looking at her. 

“Why did I have to save him or why did I?” Sora asks back. Sanji is asleep, albeit fitfully with his head in his mother's lap. She pets his hair but it doesn't seem to help much. She receives no answer but shares look between the two. “I poisoned myself to save my children, but it only worked on one. He thought I was dead for two years before I managed to get us both out. He blamed himself because his siblings don't have the same faculties as he does.” Sora explains. 

“I see.” Mihawk replies. He doesn't understand it, not really but he guides the coffin ship to the dock. Sanji woke and tied the boat to the dock quickly. The knot was good and tight and Sanji stood on the dock double checking. Mihawk and Sora took some time getting onto land, she was weak but her determination was admirable. They walk for a while, gathering some supplies before heading to an inn where Mihawk got their rooms. “You both need a bath.” Mihawk says without thinking.

“As do you, Sir Mihawk.” Sora smiles at him. “Go take one in your room, we've got it.” 

The swordsman nods and they part ways. Mihawk takes his bath and cleanses himself and tries to pick apart what he had done. Sora certainly held herself like royalty, her posture immaculate and her pain well hidden. She also had more kids than Sanji. He didn't know what other ‘faculties’ his siblings were missing but chances are Sanji was singled out for not measuring up. He finishes his bath and put on fresh clothes when he realizes he had the bag of clothes he bought them in his room. He grabs it and walks to the room they were in, Sanji was nowhere to be found but he can hear humming. It's an old North Blue lullaby, one Mihawk remembers from his time traveling there when he was working to become what he is now.

“Sanji?” Sora calls from the bathroom.

“No.” Mihawk answers. “Are you alright?” He couldn't help but ask. The quiet lasted longer than a few moments and having not received an answer he opened to the door slowly and saw Sora in the bath. They were staring at each other, confusion and shock in both sea blue and ringed yellow eyes. 

“What are you-” Sora starts.

“Are you stuck?” Mihawk asks at the same time. They stare at each other again neither answering other than Sora shyly nodding after a moment. Mihawk helps her out and hands her a towel and rushes out of the bathroom quickly. He was not shy about nudity or sex or any of that, but Sora was not a pirate and had her son with her. She was certainly more shy about certain things than he was. He laid out the clothes he thought best on the bed as Sanji came back into the room.

“Oh, hi.” He whispers meekly as Mihawk nods to him. 

“I got you both some clothes. They'll hold up longer than the rags you both claim are clothes.” Mihawk says and Sanji nods.

“Thank you, sir.” Sanji mumbles. They don't talk and Sora comes out and she gives them both a look.

“Pray tell, what happened out here?” She asks as Sanji hurries past her, successfully dodging past her without bumping her and shutting the bathroom door.

“I brought clothes for you both.” Mihawk answers.

“You're being extremely kind for a pirate,” Sora hums out, "but who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?” 

“The dress should be easiest to put on.” Mihawk replies instead and Sora nods. “I'll leave you to get dressed, I'll bring dinner soon.” 

Sora nods and Mihawk leaves. Later dinner is a quiet affair, Sora and Mihawk talk rarely and lightly and Sanji doesn't speak at all, despite Sora trying to get him to. Mihawk doesn't push one way or the other. Sora is pleasant company and Sanji is well behaved. Maybe a little too well behaved but Mihawk will tackle that beast later. After they're done Sanji quickly nabs the dishes and cutlery and bolts out of the room, Mihawk spares a glance that followed the boy.

“What time will we be leaving?” Sora asks as she gathers the spare clothes Mihawk had purchased.

“Before lunch.” Mihawk answers, moving to leave.

“I must thank you again, Sir Mihawk.” Sora says.

“You keep referring to me as ‘sir’ yet I am no knight nor am I remarkably honorable.” Mihawk responds looking at her. “Am I right to infer that you're royalty?” 

“Not anymore, though it's a force of habit I will try to break.” Sora answers. “Sleep well.” 

“And you.” Mihawk drawled leaving. Ex royalty then. Mihawk tries to think of any recently fallen kingdoms or kingdoms that lost members of their family and couldn't place any that looked like those two. Sanji's twirly brow would stand out everywhere. Mihawk tries not to dwell on it. Even to the next day as Sanji helps him load the coffin ship and Mihawk helps Sora in. They don't talk much, Mihawk warns them of the dangers on Kuraigana, possible bounty hunters or Marines but neither seemed to be concerned about either of those. There might be much worse after them then, Mihawk thinks, but nothing he couldn't handle most likely.

They're arrival is marked by Sanji taking the first items to the kitchen while Mihawk shows Sora to a room before going to help Sanji who has managed to find the kitchen and has brought in a good amount of the supplies already. The boy was quick so Mihawk follows to make sure they miss nothing and the humandrills won't bother the kid. They don't but Sanji's eyes flick through the trees enough to pique Mihawk's interest into what the boy could do.

[loneghostss]

Him flirting back at her at the bar 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

"No, Eren. You just don't understand," she says, leaning over the bar as if what he just said is a grave offense, all made worse by how the first two buttons of her white, pristine shirt are undone. "I simply don't get drunk." Her words slur together both by alcohol and the nature of her intention. And it's cute when a girl as pretty as her tries to convince you of something when everything about her says otherwise, with the way the color of her tongue wraps around each word.

He's seen Mikasa in a lot of ways, ways he shouldn't have seen in order to keep his wretched proclivities chained to a part of himself he shouldn't access anymore. But tonight, there's a darkness to her beauty. Something close to hunger, primal and remediless, stoked by her needs as a woman who keeps herself aligned with what's expected of her all week long.

"That's not what I'm seeing in front of me," he says, his fingers grazing the tiny bow tattooed on her right wrist that, normally, remains hidden by her watch. It was a pleasant surprise the first time he caught sight of it, had always loved how delicate her hands were, the perfect match to her ever-pink nails.

"Just one more round and we'll call it a night," she says, and she almost sounds innocent before a mischievous smile plays on her lips. "I might even let you take me home."

He fights back an urge in him that demands him to take her to the back of the bar, enlighten her on how much she tempts him. But instead, one of his hands trail up her arm, stopping on her shoulder to steady her. "I'll take you home anyway, baby. You're drunk."

The flush on her cheeks almost matches the rosy of her lips, the silken strands of her black hair draped over one of her shoulders. She lets out a sigh, feigning annoyance. "I'm good at everything I do, Eren. Drinking is no exception."

"I'm sure you're more than good in a lot of things, Mikasa, feel free to show it to me any time." He wraps his hand around her waist, pulling the stool she's sitting at close to him. And it's nice, really, how the woman that has turned his days into torture is so pliable under his touch, so easily held. Harshly, then, he pulls away. It wouldn't do him any good to have this kind of thought about Mikasa. "Any time you're not drinking, that is."

"Oh Eren," she says, her voice honeyed and slow. "If you don't do one more round with me I'll probably think you're afraid of getting drunk yourself." She leans over his shoulder, pressing her body into his to whisper into his ear, her sweet tongue not sparing him of torment. "I'd be harder to hide how much you wanna fuck me that way."

[favorvn]

Yknow, I'm just going to put this out there.

I am really disgusted by a lot of these accusations hurled towards Lily without an ounce of proof. Most of these accusations simply feel like they are throwing anything at the wall to stoke the flames of social outrage in order to get people to react. It's gross, and it is tiring.

Here are a couple of my thoughts...

- Yes, what happened in the server with someone being falsely accused was really bad. It hurt people involved and destroyed trust. My heart really goes out to this person, and they have every right to feel hurt and to not forgive anyone involved in this situation. There is no excuse or explanation that can or will justify this. Bad mistakes were made, and someone was unjustly and irreparably hurt. A fact separate to this, though, is that Lily was given this false information after being harassed at that point for MONTHS, possibly even a full year. After that long of being harassed, it isn't a surpise that a mistake like this happened. As fucked as that situation was, Lily is a victim in this situation. It's strange that we don't really see this acknowledged. One person being a victim in an awful situation doesn't just negate another victim.

- Stealing code from fourms...? That has to be a joke. The really cool thing about code, and what has caused leaps and bounds in technological advancement, is that historically, code has mostly always been freely shared and a community based effort and knowledge sharing. On help forums, people share code with each other and correct each other's code. This is doubly so for Renpy, which makes it so lovely to learn! People don't really gatekeep knowledge when it comes to code, we encourage learning and skill improvement. Unless there is PROOF that code was fully ripped from a game (which even in that case, I would bet that the original person found their code from a forum as well, and the second person may have found a similar code to it because code really doesn't differ too much as it is a tool, a means to an end, not creative expression.) I really just don't believe any of those accusations at all. This goes for all accusations without direct proof.

- Regarding the criticism towards Lily's sexuality and gender identity: That isn't your or anyone else's business. It is frankly gross to try and demonize someone else's gender identity and sexual identity journey.

- I have seen multiple comments /callout posts / threads that revolve around a weird level of white knighting for Ya-Boi. Ya-Boi is an adult. They are both adults. Stop infantilizing Ya-boi and assuming that he can't voice when he is uncomfortable by something. He can, and he doesn't need anyone to speak for him. Let the business between them be private as anyone else's has a right to be. If you were actually concerned for Yaboi you would have checked in with him personally in a private message rather than just putting his personal life out there and forcing him to out his own personal life to the public 💀 like I really doubt he wanted to have to do that.

- Also, the complaint about 18+ erotic art being posted in a clearly titled 18+ EROTIC server??? I seriously laugh everytime I read that callout. If you join a server that clearly has the word 'erotic' in the title and you get mad because erotic art was posted? That's fully on you. What's next? Will you go to the p*rn hub and be mad because p*rn was shown? Get real. Stop pearl clutching and grow up. Take responsibility for your own actions and decisions of joining the clearly labeled server. The worst part to me is, I know if you voiced this complaint, anyone in the server would be kind enough to oblige and apologize to you and make sure it doesn't happen again. Because they are kind people who do care about how people around them feel. But frankly, I find this complaint fucking ridiculous. It was in the title of the damn server.

Look, at the end of the day you don't need to have a reason to dislike someone. You can just dislike someone. It's enough just to say that you don't like someone and end it at that. You don't need to try and make a callout post and rally people to also dislike someone so you can feel justified in your dislike towards them. You don't have to like everyone you come across in life, and that's totally fine. It's human even.

Please reevaluate some of these points on if they actually make sense, if they are actually fair, if you actually have proof for them. If you are this harsh on Lily, I really feel bad about how harshly you must judge yourself. To remain at some obscure morally upright standard that you are arbitrarily imposing on yourself at all times. It's okay to love your yan characters and want others to interact with them. It's okay to make mistakes, it's human to fuck up sometimes, to learn, and to grow from it.

What will happen when you make a mistake that you tried to call out another person for? Will you forgive yourself? Will you spiral in self loathing? What happens when you make a mistake that you would have called someone else out for if given the chance? Will you make an exception for yourself that you know you wouldn't have granted to another person? Will you allow yourself to grow in ways that you won't allow others to? What happens when you get a partner and they make an honest mistake? Will you call them out to the public? Trying to get others to also dislike them? Where does empathy get to start and end?

My advice is: Have some empathy for yourself and for others. Life will be much kinder to you that way.

I won't go through every point, I just wanted to say my piece on those things. This link is the post I am referring to. Ya-boi's response disects everything in more depth than I will.