#kickers of earth

[kickersofearth]

the history of kicking and punting in football

the history of kicking and punting in football

Kicking and punting have been integral parts of the game of football since its inception. In the early days of the sport, kicking and punting were used primarily as a means of advancing the ball down the field and scoring points. Over time, however, the techniques and strategies involved in kicking and punting have evolved and become a crucial aspect of modern football strategy. The origins of…

[markscherz]

Whas ur favorite frog

Today's favourite frog is Microhyla berdmorei, which looks like it skipped arm day, but hit leg day extra hard.

[src]

[struck-by-the-rain]

this is wayyy too much effort for a redrawn tumblr post. they should give me exams again.

[socksandbuttons]

giant lunar is not Tall lunar but hilarious 'THIS IS BORING' yeah thats cause youve been gianted a shame lunar did not try picking up earth moon or solar (ALTHO I KNOW THE MODELS CANT.)

[transingthoseformers]

Back from therapy and I've got something random.

Knockout and Breakdown, upon movie night, accidentally saw Fifty Shades of Gray. Somewhere down the road Breakdown starts telling the story about this one movie that traumatized Knockout and Optimus (who if we remember read the book) instantly knew. Ratchet found this hilarious (as did Soundwave, who had rented the movie online and sent it to KOBD over something petty)

[skelemoonz]

been lovin the transformers art!! Rly inspired designs. I’ve been a recent fan to it all, started w g1, beast wars and now onto animated - and loved the secondary media too like comics and games. but anyways, super curious - are you pro human characters, and if so who’s your fav?? (Can count the cavemen from beast wars lol)

Thank you! And yes I am ok with humans being in transformers, I quite like the idea actually. Just the humans befriending aliens or something alike trope is great to me, very cute, I love the bonding moments, the human teaching the transformer about Earth and vice versa

However, I do not like when the human included.. is a child. Because like..why is a kid being involved? Yes sometimes a kid being there is fine, like Cody Burns in Rescue Bots, amazingly done, but a lot of the time it’s not sadly.

Like in Tfp, yes it may have started out..ok..but it quickly turned into..well..not the best, as in Optimus sending a CHILD to another planet to restore his (Optimus’) memory?? Said child almost getting killed by an Insecticon AND Megatron in the process..like..Optimus why?

Cybertron/Galaxy Force had a similar issue, started good but got worse as the show continued, like Optimus and all the others were very opposed to these kids getting involved, they were really only there to bond with, help teach the bots about Earth, and help locate the omega lock, and they made that VERY clear- As shown in this funny clip

But then everything changed when Coby went to the Speed Planet 😔💔

Or Armada? Worst one by far imo, why are these kids being involved? Y’know how easily they can be squished? STOP IT- stop treating them like they’re some HUGE help when most of the time they just stand around yapping,, I can’t say anything about Energon cause I couldn’t watch it because Kicker (main human character) annoyed the shit out of me so I stopped after episode 2, but from clips I’ve seen, same issue..is he a kid? I think so

Animated had a similar issue I think…I can’t remember…Sori is there so ima assume, from what I remember I don’t think it was that bad tho, good watch

ANYWAY- all this to say, humans being involved is great! It’s just kids being there that can be a bit of an issue. Kids can be there, I understand it’s for the younger audience, but don’t treat the CHILD like they’re some huge help and one of the most important ones there when they aren’t, do stuff like they’re there because..idfk one of the bots adopted them, THATS THEIR KID!! THEY WILL PROTECT THEIR KID!!! Like how that was done in Tf Victory from what I can see didn’t know Starsaber had a kid

Or idk, use Rescue Bots, or surprisingly RID15 as reference, the kids aren’t getting involved, but they’re there, friends of the bots and maybe helping them better understand Earth! But not getting involved in a war. They may be defiant at times (Russell) but they still don’t really get involved

OK RAMBLE DONE SORRY UHHhh- favorite human? Hmmm..I’d have to say the human ancestors in Beast Wars- I’m joking, it’s 3 humans, Charlie from the Bumblebee movie, and Noah an Elena from ROTB, very well done characters 😼👍

[emotargaryen]

i must stop reading comments on tumblr posts. reading comments is the mind killer

[sainamoonshine]

Me: I will introduce my boyfriend to the easiest board game I know, it has exactly three (3) rules!

My boyfriend: *completely fucking destroys me at every turn*

Me: this was a mistake 😀

[things-you-may-need-to-hear]

Hello there 👋,

I hope this message finds you well. My brother Osama and our family are facing incredibly difficult times due to the ongoing war in Gaza. Osama's livelihood and dreams have been shattered, but he's determined to rebuild his life and continue supporting us.

To help in this effort, Osama has launched a GoFundMe campaign titled "Helping Osama Rebuild His Dream." Any support you can offer—whether through sharing the campaign or making a donation—would mean the world to him and to all of us.

Here’s the link to learn more and contribute: https://gofund.me/100da7db

Even a small donation can make a significant difference. Thank you so much for your kindness and support 💖

With gratitude,

Ayman

Vetted by @90-ghost

Verified by @gazagfmboostp

Liked this poll? Consider reblogging and/or donating to Osama's vetted campaign!

[teesbees]

Today was almost the day I redownloaded indeed but I think I can stick it out for 3 more months so I don’t have to feel guilty about rounding my time working here to a year on my resume

[ewiniarz]

Door Kickers 2 My Apartment (BPRE Mod) Modding Door Kickers 2 is alot of fun

[lalunanymph]

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── gojo never thought he would see the day when he would be in this situation: helplessly bound and gagged, watching his best friend of over 20 years fuck his wife on their marital bed.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐂𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐃 + 𝐂𝐔𝐌 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 + 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐄 with gojo satoru & geto suguru

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── wife!reader, fem!reader, consensual cuckholding, cheating insecurities, bondage, panty gag, nipple play, cum eating, oral s[e]x, riding, gojo's inhumane strength + flexibility

⇤flip back to the pervtober masterlist

As much as he was the strongest sorcerer in the world, there was one thing Gojo Satoru was hesitant to do—and that was to share the things he loved.

Anytime his students made eyes at a sweet treat he held in his hand, or when Nobara tried to “borrow” his black card, he would divert them with a sarcastic quip or annoy them until they dropped it.

But, if push came to shove, Gojo supposes he could share—especially when if it was with his best friend of 20 over years, Suguru Geto. 

In hindsight, Satoru and Suguru had a lot of things in common.

The same initials, the same cut of uniform, their eerily uncanny height. Even their shared love for obscure memes bonded them together.

But, one thing Gojo never expected to share with his best friend? 

You—his own, sweet wife. 

It wasn’t the kind of threesome you would find in a sappy porno. Gojo was unsure how he had let you lead him into this situation, but you must’ve been a lustful curse reincarnated in the form of a beautiful woman. 

He couldn’t resist your pretty doe eyes or your glossy lips twisted into a pout when you whined, “Please, Satoru? Can you do it for me?” 

Sure, he was a menace half of the time, but Satoru would lay the heavens and earth by your feet the second you asked him to. 

So, when you brought up the idea of a threesome, he was intrigued. After all, the both of you were pretty adventurous in the sack, and he couldn’t deny how sexy it was to imagine you with another woman. 

Except, you requested for someone else completely different.

You had asked him to share you with Suguru.

The kicker was, Satoru thought he would at least get some action. But, when you shared how it would turn you on to no end to see him all tied up and helpless, his curiosity was kicked up a notch.

Gojo was the type of man who would try anything once, even if the idea sounded absolutely awful.

So, here he was, right in the middle of his marital bed, all tied up prettily with some red jute rope that contrasted perfectly with his marble pale skin. You were straddling his lap, clad in a skimpy black thong and bralette which barely covered your heaving tits as you kissed him over and over again.

“Fuck—mhm,” Gojo groaned when you sucked on his bottom lip. Satoru loved it when you got this horny for him; it made him feel like the only man on this planet to get you this vulnerable and impure.

Except, he wasn’t. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he would feel when Geto arrived. The same Geto who had been there for him through thick and thin—who had been his best man at his own wedding. That Geto who was currently on his way over to his mansion, ready to fuck his lovely wife without a shred of hesitation. 

You bit on his lower lip, bringing back his attention to the task at hand. “You look so pretty, ‘Toru,” you purred in a husky whisper, running your soft hands down his sculpted chest. The diamond patterns dug into his skin, sure to leave an imprint behind when you released those binds later. Satoru fixed those beautiful, baby blue eyes onto you, and it shouldn’t turn you on this much to see him already halfway ruined for you.

“Baby, please,” he mumbled, and you felt his cock straining behind his sweatpants; itching to be buried in your tight heat. 

“Ssh,” you murmured, and he shivered when your red-tipped nails caught on his nipples. You pinched and flicked those pink nubs until they stiffened, an undeniable sign of his pure desire for you. “Let me take care of you, Satoru.” 

The sound of his name leaving your lips made a shiver wrack up his spine. Satoru held his breath when you kissed down his neck and collarbone, leading your painted red lips right to his pelvic bone. 

His cock stirred when you began to palm it, licking your lips when you noticed a growing wet patch on the front of his pants. 

“Already hard for me, baby?” you traced the shape of his leaking head with one teasing finger. “You need to have more self-control than that.”

If he was being honest, this was his karma for always stringing you on and denying your orgasms. Gojo could feel the frustration burning deep inside of him. For a man who was used to getting everything, having you within reach was the worst torture of his life.

He was close enough to ripping the ropes off and fucking you, when your sweet laughter chimed in his roaring ears. Your deviousness took him off guard when you slipped your hand under the waistband of his pants, finding his leaky cock and fisting it gently. 

Without a second of hesitation, you stroked him from base to tip, enjoying how his body jerked forward violently. The veins on his neck were popping, the one on his forehead almost bulging out as you twisted your wrist, feigning a sweet coo of apology when you grazed his balls.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, baby,” you whispered in fake sympathy. “Too sensitive?” 

“Gah—ugh,” Gojo gasped out, almost throwing you off his body with a sharp buck of his hips. 

The taste of his cock beckoned you to take it up a notch, and you didn’t fight back the urge. Scooting down the length of his longer torso, you gently drew down the waistband of his already soiled pants, greeted by the sight of his stiff cock rising in full mast. 

Satoru really did have the prettiest dick in the game. Girthy and longer than average with a vein running from base to tip, it begged for a mouth to salivate all over it. 

Gently kissing the flushed head, you heard him whine out your name. “Stop teasing me,” he huffed, pouting and looking so cute covered with sweat. “You’re being way too mean, pumpkin.”

He would believe your giggle to be innocence incarnate if only you didn’t do what you did next. 

Your tongue—that devilish trickster who could make him cum or cry depending on your mood—swiped over his weeping slit, toying with a string of precum connecting the supple flesh to that pink muscle. You shamelessly made out with his swollen tip, licking and sucking the mushroom-shaped head without any care to its poor, overstimulated owner. 

Satoru cried out, his abs undulating and clenching. Those blue eyes eclipsed over with immense need, going half-mast. But, you spared him no mercy.

Taking him down your throat was done with little to no resistance. Gojo’s lustful cries rebounded across the painted walls, his tied hands behind his back clenching and fisting the soft duvet to ground himself from the unending pleasure.

Your talented mouth worked up and down his length, and he really wished he hadn’t agreed to such stupid games—Gojo had never wanted to fuck you as badly as he did now, when he wasn’t allowed to.

“Fuck,” he mumbled coarsely, completely fixated on your face when you deep-throated him. Gojo couldn’t stop himself from throbbing all over at the sight of your throat bulging with the thick of him. 

It drove him close to insanity at how talented you were—your angelic mewls and moans spurring him on. 

His mouth fell open, lax and panting. “B-baby… please…” 

He had no idea what he was begging for, but he was solely motivated by the sweetest release you were constantly denying him. 

Whenever he approached his high, you would slow down your movements, or remove your mouth completely from his length. It frustrated him to no end, and the effect was imminent when his cock wouldn’t stop leaking milky white rivulets onto your palm. 

Giggling like the tease you were, you removed your thong, glistening and sticky with your juices to stuff it into his mouth. 

Satoru was a sight—cheeks flushed, frosty bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat, mouth crammed full of lace. 

You wished you could take a photo or a video so the filthy sight would stick with you longer.

But, your time with Satoru’s obedience was running short. The strongest sorcerer was close enough to snapping out of his bondage and fucking you six ways into Sunday. You could taste his humiliation on the tip of your tongue, his impatience bleeding right through the air.

Geto should be here any minute now.

As if on cue, the front door opened, and both you and Satoru perked up.

His muffled moans were pathetic at best and panicked at worst. He would never imagine being in this position, not in a thousand years. 

He was Gojo Satoru—the chosen one, the heavenly one. To be debased right in his own marital bed by the woman who wore his commitment around her left finger was a considerable feat.

But, here he was, humbled right into his own Egyptian cotton sheets, while Geto stood by the doorway, dressed in a button down shirt and slacks. His best friend took one look at him—the rope harness wrapped around his torso and the thong prised in between his teeth—and chuckled.

“Hey, Satoru.”

Geto tossed him an easy smile as he made his way towards the bed, every lanky fibre in his 6’4 body fused with amusement. “Getting comfortable?” 

Satoru’s glare was a sudden contrast from his usual jovial expression, and it would’ve been disconcerting had the stuck thong in his mouth not ruined the effect. 

You giggled, batting your eyelashes at Suguru. 

“I made him extra comfy, Suguru.”

Something about you saying Geto’s name, all sweet and teasing, made Satoru see red.

He huffed and groaned, shifting in his position like he was trying to sit up. 

“Uh-uh,” you murmured, gently pressing one palm into his broad chest to keep him in one position. “You promised not to get jealous, ‘Toru. Remember what you said?” 

Geto sidled up behind you, those large palms sliding up your hips to rest intimately on your sternum.

“‘I can handle it’,” Geto quipped, earning another baleful glare from Satoru. “Well, you did say you were the strongest—I guess even you’re not immune to jealousy.”

Gojo swore that he was close enough to ripping through these flimsy ropes and blasting Suguru into the next dimension. It was what he should’ve been doing, but he was torn; the sight unfurling before him was too enticing to look away. 

Suguru slowly inched one hand up your chest, clasping your neck. He pulled your face close to his parted lips, devouring your open-mouthed gasp with a kiss which had you moaning wantonly.

As if Gojo was merely a side character on his own bed, you straddled Suguru, deepening the kiss. 

And Satoru had no idea what was worse—having you tease him to his wits’ end, or not even having a shred of your attention. 

Geto’s tongue sliding deep into your mouth made you cry out his name, and Satoru quickly figured out which was the biggest horror. 

It wasn’t you denying him or ignoring him—it was watching you grind on his best friend’s lap and realising he enjoyed it. 

He liked watching you lose yourself to another man, how you bloomed for someone who wasn’t your own husband. Through these lenses, he could finally see what made him always come back for more; why he barely hesitated to put a ring on your finger without a second thought.

The woman he fell in love with and married was completely beautiful in the throes of her pleasure. 

In this position, Satoru wasn’t losing himself deep in the fog of lust and missing out on your ethereal expressions or heavenly moans. He was privileged to have a front row seat to your every reaction.

He watched pleasure unfurl itself across your face—from your mouth falling open to your eyebrows pinching together—as Suguru caressed your neck and collarbone with open-mouthed kisses. Satoru barely cared about the bastard who was having you for the night; he only had eyes for you. 

Sure, Geto was pretty experienced in the bedroom judging from the number of one night stands who were desperate enough to ask him for his best friend’s number. But, he could never hold a flame to Satoru’s sensual wife.

You let Geto push you down into the sheets, right next to your bound and gagged husband. The dark-haired sorcerer chuckled, helping you remove his shirt and pants, leaving him bare except for his boxers. 

Satoru watched, ignoring how his cock twitched pathetically when the both of you started kissing again. 

This time, you used more tongue and teeth than usual, the kiss a clash of wet slurps and crisp clacking which made every hair on Gojo’s body stand.

He couldn’t stop getting an eyeful of your pink tongue stroking Suguru’s lower lip. Every chamber of his heart clenched in pure agony and ecstasy as Geto kissed his way down your body, right to the apex of your bare thighs.

Hitching your shapely legs over his shoulders, Geto shamelessly ate out another man’s wife—licking, sucking and stroking her folds and clit with his broad tongue. His hair was already in a disarray from your clutching fingers, every sweet gasp that fell from your mouth driving both men insane.

“She tastes good, Satoru,” Geto’s words shocked him back rudely to the present. The dark-haired man threw him a smirk. “I can see why you married her.”

His nostrils flared, and a strong stab of jealousy surged through his entire soul when you twined your fingers in Suguru’s hair, drawing him back to your glistening cunt.

Geto spent a few minutes driving you to the edge, and judging by your moans and heavy breathing, you were definitely close.

Your soft whimper filled Satoru with spikes of disgust mixed with prickly intrigue. You were shamelessly grinding your pussy right into Geto’s mouth, whispering his name mixed with profanities which sounded awfully close to the curses you would spout when Satoru himself was fucking you.

But, like the twisted and curious fiend he was, Gojo remained silent and pliant, letting Suguru have his way with you.

The other man unclasped your bra, tossing it to the ground and going straight for your nipples; sucking, pinching and biting down on them hard enough to earn you sweet squeaks.

Satoru was quickly turning green with jealousy at your ecstatic sounds, and soon, the doubts crept in.

Does she love me?

Did she initiate this because she’s tired of me?

Did I do something wrong?

But, Gojo already knew the answers to those debilitating questions.

He loved you with every inch of his soul. You were the one thing he looked forward to coming home at the end of every day, and the last person he wished to hold as he drifted off to sleep every night.

Satoru treated you with nothing short of respect and worship like the goddess you were.

So, if he did everything right, then where did it all go so wrong?

“‘Toru,” you whimpered, as Geto lined his cock right up to your weeping slit. You turned to him, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I love you, Satoru.” 

As if your words were coated in fairy dust, his heart almost lifted right out of his ribcage.

Your sweet smile just before Geto sank right into your tight heat was embedded in his brain. It was like he was the only man in the room, even as you were fucking another.

Geto was pushing a pace that had your toes curling and head thrown back. But, you never once broke eye contact with Satoru.

An inexplicable wave of fondness filled Gojo’s heart right to the brim, and his own brilliant blue eyes softened, focused on the planes of a familiar face he loved with his entire soul. You giggled, bright and beautiful, cheek to the pillow while your hair bled out behind you like an eloquent ink stain.

You were so incredibly gorgeous it hurt.

Satoru barely noticed when Suguru filled you up. The only indication you gave him was a pinch in your brow and a soft gasp that mellowed out into a dulcet moan. Once the other man was done using your body, you broke eye contact to meet Suguru’s gaze, a certain friendly fondness written in the corners of your lips. 

Geto planted a perfunctory kiss on your forehead, a silent ‘thank you’ for involving him in your fantasies. 

He rose from between your thighs, shooting a knowing smile to his still bound and gagged bestfriend.

“See you on Monday, Satoru.” 

Gojo grumbled, blue eyes sharp as daggers staring at his broad back as it left the sanctuary of his bedroom.

The door closed on the two of you, and you exhaled a chuckle. 

“I didn’t cum,” you mumbled, and something about those words made Satoru’s ego flare up to terrible heights. He would always make sure you climaxed at the same time he did; it must’ve either been a hard limit you set with Geto, or the other man wasn’t as good in bed as Satoru thought he was.

Your husband snorted, and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t look so smug.” 

Satoru didn’t listen to you. He looked pleased, humming in a low tone. 

You fished out your soaked thong from between his teeth. 

Gojo stretched out his jaw, and before he could run his mouth and say something which would ruin this moment, you perched yourself on his chest, spreading your folds.

A tiny trickle of cum was oozing down your plush folds, and your husband barely felt an inch of disgust when he grinned.

“Gonna make me eat you out now, baby?” he rasped. 

You rolled your eyes again—he should really spank you silly for that—and rose on your knees, presenting your used pussy to him.

“Ready, big boy?” 

Satoru was born ready. He curled forward, wiggling further up the pillows to give himself more leverage to plant his mouth on your waiting cunt. You gasped, completely taken aback by how feverishly Gojo was eating you out—eating up his best friend’s cum from your abused hole.

Your eyes were halfway rolling back into your skull, small fingers gripping the headboard with enough strength to leave a dent behind. 

Satoru was in pure heaven—if heaven was tainted with the taste of hell. 

The bitter taste of another man lingering in between your folds filled him with a mixture of disgust and exhilaration. Never in a million years would the Satoru Gojo—the universe’s favourite and blessed one—think he would be in such a situation. This release of power filled him with a rush of disorientating high, kind of like that one time he ate twenty daifukus in one go. 

And judging from the sweet sounds you made, you were just as turned on from this taboo act as he was. 

Gojo swore he could cum from just one touch of his cock; Gojo Jr. was flushed red with neglect, begging for you to pay attention to him. 

The relief which flooded through his chest could’ve rendered him on his knees, in tears, when you pried your pussy away from him, focused now on fisting his cock.

“D-Don’t,” Gojo stuttered coarsely. “Might cum, sweetheart—f-fuck—wanna do it inside.”

His disjointed words and broken moans shot straight up in your head, leaving you dizzy with the pure power of rendering the strongest sorcerer incoherent. Gojo actually whimpered when you nudged his fat tip past your entrance, his beautiful oceanic eyes glazing over. 

“F-fuck, pumpkin,” he groaned obscenely, and you couldn’t take it anymore—bottoming out in a sharp, swift movement, the both of you crying out in ecstasy. 

“Oh, fuck,” Gojo swore lowly when you began to buckle your hips, riding him all slow and sensual. 

His head thumped back into the soft pillows, a ragged moan of surrender leaving his peachy lips. You were too distracted by how plush they looked, and pitched forward swiftly to kiss him while you rode him to oblivion.

There were no sounds in the room but both your harsh breathing. You were growing dizzier and dizzier, all the oxygen knocked out from your lungs as you tried to chase your high because as much as you were teasing Gojo, you were teasing yourself, too.

“‘Toru,” you whimpered. He eyed you rubbing your clit with pure hunger in those ethereal eyes, lost in the mind-numbing motion of you bucking your hips back and forth back and forth to take him to that sacred point. 

Your thighs were beginning to tremble, and Gojo immediately knew you were going to cum. You clamped down on him at the same time your head tossed back, and before you could comprehend, Gojo used whatever remained of his core strength to flip you onto the mattress.

With his hands tied behind his back, Satoru still managed to fuck you into the sheets. You instinctively steadied him, arms vined tightly around his shoulders. This position was incredibly intimate; you could feel his broken moans fanning across your neck, his face hidden in the crook of your jaw. Every pore of his body was bleeding into yours, the both of you physically closer than any human could be.

And yet, it wasn’t enough. You wanted to live in his skin, be one with his bones.

Satoru was a part of you, and you were a part of him. Always.

He lived in your every trembling exhale, while you made a home on his lips, where he could taste you for a lifetime of pleasure.

“I love you,” your harsh whisper made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. 

Roaming your hands down his broad back, you grazed your nails on his undercut, eliciting a full-bodied shiver from the strongest sorcerer.

“I love you, Satoru.”

“‘Course you do,” he grunted, lifting his face to clumsily kiss down your jaw. “M’the only one who could ever make you cum, baby.” 

And as he predicted so smugly, his words were true. 

Your connection with Gojo would forever break through any logic or emotions, even the boundaries of what your body was capable of.

In a few short minutes, you were dissolving for him, your cries of pleasure filling his ears like the prettiest sonnets. Gojo continued to fuck you through your climax, and you were too keyed up enough that you came again; your wails could’ve brought the ceiling down. White splashed out in your vision, your mouth opened in a silent scream.

A well of warmth filled you up, reclaiming his mark on your womb. 

Instantly, Gojo’s entire body weight sank into you, smothering the breath from your aching lungs.

You took a few minutes to come back to the ground, fluttering your eyes open and finding him still trying to catch his breath.

Quickly, you unwound the ropes from him, and just like you predicted, the imprints left in his skin were glorious. You held him in the seam of embrace as you massaged his aching shoulders, careful to show him more love now that he was all vulnerable and pouty.

“Satoru?” you whispered carefully.

Gojo mumbled something under his breath, and you fought back a spreading smile from how petulant he sounded.

“You alright, sweetie?” 

“Hmm,” he rubbed his cheeks into your throat like a needy kitten. “Never been better.”

“I love you, you know that?”

He hummed again. 

“Baby?” 

Tuning in fully, you nodded. “Yeah, baby?” 

“Next time I share you with Suguru, you’re gonna be the one tied up.”

Not a request; it was a statement.

You could barely wait till the next devious time.

intellectual property of ©️lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or play around with my sentence structures, plots and characterization.

[awkward-walking-potato]

since everything went down and the multiverse has been saved, reader and Logan have been living with Wade. Because of that he’s gotten an inside look into their relationship. I think it would be so cute to see reader and Logan’s relationship but from wade’s perspective. Like he’ll (respectfully) watch them as reader has their head on Logan’s thigh as they show him some random funny TikTok and he sort of just rolls his eyes at it. Or Wade comes home to find the both of them passed out on the couch together while a random movie is on in the background. Just things that are really domestic, sweet, and fluffy. I think it would just be really sweet to see their relationship from a different perspective.

Domestic Bliss: A Wade Wilson Retrospective

Wade’s POV

So, I’ve been crashing at Casa de Logan for a while now. You’d think I’d have better things to do than to hang around with a grumpy Canadian mutant and their too-good-for-this-world partner, but let’s be honest—my life’s a circus, and sometimes, you just need to take a break from being the main act. Plus, it’s not like I’m going to get a better view of the Logan and Reader Show anywhere else. Honestly, it’s the most entertaining thing this side of the multiverse, and I’ve seen some Weird stuff.

Take today, for instance. I stroll into the living room, probably covered in blood—I mean, it’s a day ending in ‘y,’ so what else is new?—and there they are: Logan stretched out on the couch like it’s a throne, and Reader draped across his lap like a very happy, very contented blanket.

Reader’s got their phone in hand, showing Logan something that I’m sure is super important. Their head’s on his thigh, which—by the way—is probably the safest place on Earth, considering all the things those thighs have crushed. And Logan? He’s pretending to be all grumpy and uninterested, but I can see the way the corners of his mouth twitch, like he’s just about to smile but doesn’t want to ruin his image.

“Check this out,” Reader says, and their voice has this lilting, sweet tone to it that makes me want to gag in the most respectful way possible. They’re showing him a TikTok, and I catch a glimpse—some stupid cat video, classic Reader—and Logan, good ol’ fashioned Logan, just rolls his eyes. But—and this is the kicker—he watches the whole thing. Doesn’t pull away, doesn’t pretend like he’s not interested. Nope, he’s in it for the long haul, just for them.

I feel my heart do that thing where it’s like, ‘Hey, Wade, remember when you had feelings?’ and I quickly squash it down. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

“Really, Wade?” Logan grumbles, noticing me hovering in the doorway. “Got nothin’ better to do?”

“Not when you two are putting on this much of a show,” I reply, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Seriously, the domestic fluff is off the charts. I’m gonna need insulin if this keeps up.”

Reader snickers, throwing a pillow at me, which I catch because—duh, reflexes. Logan just huffs, but there’s no real heat behind it. If anything, I think he likes that I’m around. I mean, who wouldn’t?

A couple of days later, I get home from one of my little escapades—nothing major, just the usual chaos—and I’m greeted by a sight that nearly makes me drop my katanas. There’s Logan, all six-foot-whatever of him, curled up on the couch with Reader nestled against his chest. They’re both out cold, dead to the world, with some random movie playing in the background. The screen’s showing some cheesy 80s action flick, which, come to think of it, is probably what knocked them out in the first place.

I stand there, just watching for a minute. And I don’t say this often—like, ever—but it’s... nice. There’s something about seeing those two like this, all tangled up together, that makes the world feel a little less messed up. Like, yeah, we’ve been through hell and back saving the multiverse, but at least there’s this. At least there’s them.

I could ruin the moment. I could wake them up, crack a joke, or pull some prank. But I don’t. Instead, I quietly back out of the room, leaving them to their peaceful little bubble.

A few days later, I walk in on them again. This time, they’re in the kitchen. Logan’s making breakfast—pancakes, because apparently, he’s secretly a domestic god—and Reader’s perched on the counter, swinging their legs and chatting about something mundane. Logan’s grumbling about the batter consistency, and Reader’s laughing, this soft, sweet sound that makes Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Morning, sunshine!” I announce, because subtlety is for suckers. “Wade,” Logan growls, but it’s the kind of growl that has zero bite. Reader just grins at me, throwing a piece of pancake my way, which I catch in my mouth because I’ve got skills.

“Y’know,” I say, leaning against the fridge, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you two are disgustingly perfect together. It’s like watching a rom-com, except with more hair and less awkward misunderstandings.”

Logan just rolls his eyes and flips a pancake. “You stickin’ around, or you got places to be?”

“Why, you gonna miss me if I go?” I tease, but honestly? I’m not going anywhere. Not anytime soon.

Logan doesn’t answer, just grunts in that Logan way of his, but I see the way his hand brushes against Reader’s knee as he moves past them, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it is, for them.

Maybe that’s the thing about them—about Logan and Reader. They’ve found something here, something that’s real and solid, even after everything we’ve been through. And maybe that’s why I keep sticking around, why I keep watching. Because in a world full of crazy, this right here is something worth staying for.

[writingdinosaur]

Aziraphale was wrong this. He’ll come crawling back that. I want him to do the apology dance blah blah blah.

You know what I want? I want him to succeed.

I want him to give Heaven hell.

I want him to be a problem of the Metatron’s own making.

I keep seeing a take floating around that the Metatron was obviously lying when calling Aziraphale a natural leader and a good choice for Supreme Archangel and just trying to butter Aziraphale up so he’ll be more open to the idea of rejoining Heaven, but I think there is an important distinction to be made in this regard.

Aziraphale IS those things. He IS a natural leader. He was the first being to ever wield a weapon on earth. He is a high ranking member of Heaven’s army and was in charge of a platoon in the first war EVER. HE WAS FULLY EXPECTED TO DO SO AGAIN IN ARMAGEDDON. We can see this leadership both in Season 1 when he insists to Crowley that they don’t run away and in Season 2 when facing the demons. And if Heaven actually was everything it was meant to be, everything it still proclaims that it is, Aziraphale WOULD be the obvious choice for Supreme Archangel, because when faced between making the right choice or making the obedient one, or even between making the right choice or the comfortable choice, he has always picked the right one.

Give up the sword and lie to God or let the humans suffer? Welp, there goes the sword.

Lie on my word as an Angel or allow three human children to be killed? Guess who’s lying again!

Go back to my abusers in order to make things better for everyone or run away with the love of my life who just confessed his feelings for me? Up I go.

Here’s the kicker. The Metatron ALSO thinks he was lying to Aziraphale. In the Metatron’s eyes, Aziraphale is none of those things. The Metatron and the Archangels are nothing but condescending pricks to the Angel they see as a bumbling, incompetent, slightly insane fool who chose Earth over Heaven.

I don’t want Aziraphale to come crawling back. I don’t want him to realize it’s a lost cause. I don’t want him to give up.

What I want is to see the Metatron’s face as he watches Aziraphale succeed.

[dsknsk]

Arknights and stars

On that topic, Arknights has always had a connection to the stars and its own star map is a bit wonky if compared to earth now but makes sense if you see it in the great scheme of things.

From Astesia's file on, it's been implied that the dome that surrounds Terra is fake, and Kristen is the first one who has gone beyond it so far (traveling from Terra to beyond the dome). It's also said that the reason people cannot navigate the sea reliably is because the stars themselves aren't reliable.

But it's also a bit more concrete that the stars are a bit off, or, it would look like that.

Remember Children of Ursus? Everyone remembers its dark story but few remember the map layout.

This is the Big Dipper, part of the constellation Ursa Maior. Fitting for an event that features bear characters.

But wait! Doesn't the Big Dipper look like this?

It does. But the Big Dipper over 50,000 years looks like this...

Like I pointed out in the previous post, the stars are always on the move. It may seem slow to us but if you take a large enough timescale then the sky sure does shift from what it's now.

Remember this skin of Astesia's?

It sure is a pretty skin. But zoom in on the star chart and you'll find something...peculiar...

Several constellations look...off. Like Leo, Virgo, Hydra and Gemini. And...

The star that's marked as the North Star (i.e the star in the middle) is not Polaris, but Vega, the largest star in the constellation Lyra! Don't see it? Here, I'll make it a little more clear:

And Lyra how it is now, which is, again, slightly different from how Lyra is depicted in the above image:

Vega is not our current North Star, it's the star Polaris (duh). But Vega was in about 14,000 years ago, and will be again in about 12,000 to 13,000 years in the future. So not our current North Star.

The celestial globe is also tilted at 45 degrees instead of 23,5 for earth.

So! A huge misser on the part of the artist, right?

Wrong!

You see, the ecliptic and equator in the artwork do obviously not align with our current ecliptic and equator. But our equator and ecliptic looking like in the skin can only happen if the precession of the earth's axis is tilted towards the south...which will be the case in 12,000 to 13,000 years from now. At that time, the constellations will look 'off' compared to how they look now (I was talking about the stars shifting over time in my previous post) and Polaris will no longer be the North Star, like in the artwork.

The kicker?

Lone Trail reveals that Terra is at least 13,000 years old.

[remiratboi]

I like the idea of being sent to hell for carnal sins, and the punishment fitting the crime, so to speak.

CW: torture, hell, pain, edging, overstim, orgasm denial, mind break, forced sex, monster fucking, beast fucking, object insertion, tentacles, machine fucking, oviposition, egg birth, egg birth denial, size kink, anal, knotting

Every fantasy you’ve ever imagined is granted to you, but in the wrong way. Every single depraved, twisted thing you wanted to experience, even things a mortal human body can’t physically do. It’s hell, so those restrictions no longer apply.

You’re fucked for literal years on end. By everything and anything. Monsters, criminals, beasts, objects, machines, if you can think of it, it fucks you, or someone fucks you with it.

Huge cocks that would literally ruin you in your past life. Strange objects and techniques that would rip you apart.

Tentacles fuck all the way through your body, entering your ass, and thrusting through your throat.

Massive eggs deposited deep in your womb, only for you to have to birth them, your body stretched obscenely and painfully. Just when you finally feel one crown, another huge cock pushes it all the way back into you, forcing it to reenter your cervix.

Massive Minotaurs forcing you down on two of their cocks at once, your mind snapping in half as they slam themselves into you over and over again.

3 headed Cerberus with his huge dick longer than your arm, pounding his knot in and out of your ass at a dizzying speed. Gallons of cum pumped into you until it’s dripping out of your mouth.

Crazed scientists with hundreds of machines to test on you. How much does this one hurt? How much does that one make you scream?

Criminals you knew of on earth who stand against everything you believe in, making you a drooling slut on their cocks. Taunting you for being so easy to break. You’ll just fuck anything won’t you? Even the literal worst humanity has to offer.

Being spitroasted between two huge demons, their tips meeting in your middle, their tails deep in your ass.

So much cum. You’re always filled, dripping, swallowing. Each creature depositing their cum, or eggs, or whatever else inside you and dropping you to crash to the ground when they are done. At all times you’re incubating at least 3 different species.

And the kicker? What truly makes it all the worst punishment imaginable? You can’t cum. You have been cursed to be unable. You live just before the peak at all moments. But you never tip over. You never get to feel the release.

You spend eternity on the precipice of the strongest orgasm anyone, anything, has ever experienced, and you will never get to find out what it feels like.