#mhs but only moments i could find where the characters voice crack

[slugass]

mhs but only moments i could find where the characters voice crack

idk why it always seems to be the ones voiced by chiyako shibahara but maybe its bc those two (ampoo and tubee) are characters i focus on more????

btw you can send me other instances you've found

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 153

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 05 - “The Qualifications of Precure” Date watched: 5 October 2019 Original air date: 4 March 2007 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/irm8JKB Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

There are some episodes of Precure that really stick with you, for one reason or another. This episode is well-remembered for what doesn’t happen, and what it means. Most of you probably already know what I mean, but I’ll save it for the discussion section. First, let’s recap.

The Plot

The episode shows us a day in the life of Karen, school council president. Everyone admires her intelligence and leadership, but she can’t be honest with herself. Whenever someone requests her help with something, she sighs and says that she should have known that if she wanted something done right, she should have done it herself. This is a terrible attitude for a leader, as she’s simply assuming the burdens of other people rather than helping them to resolve their problems. She can’t even be honest with herself and admit that she’s overburdened, or that she misses her parents. We get to see her home, it’s a giant mansion, the other girls claim it’s even bigger than the school grounds, but the only people that live there are Karen and her butler, because her parents are professional musicians and they’re always traveling. They call her once in a while, and this is one such day, but despite her initial enthusiasm to receive the call, she quickly puts on her working face and tells her mother she’s not lonely, there’s no need to worry about her, so please do their best at their job, and then she hangs up without having had any meaningful or enjoyable conversation, because she doesn’t want to burden her parents. Basically, she’s a mess.

who are you trying to convince?

Over in Labyrinth HQ, Bunbee scolds Arachnea for her failure and sends her down the time-out chute before deciding he’ll go get the Dream Collet himself.

Meanwhile, Coco reminds the four girls that they need to seek out their final member, and Nozomi insists that Karen is the one. Komachi takes them to visit Karen’s house, but she got roped into more student council work so she isn’t home yet. They take a walking tour of the property while they wait for her, and when she finally arrives, Komachi reveals she has brought some bean jelly from her family’s pastry shop for them to eat, so they proceed to a gazebo on the property to eat and talk. Nozomi and Rin get up to some shenanigans, which causes Karen to laugh a little and enjoy herself, but then she gets down to business and asks why they’ve come. Nozomi hesitates but asks her to join Precure again. Karen is understandably skeptical, and Rin admits that this is the normal response. Nozomi pulls out Coco to help prove their honesty, but a Pinky appears so he instructs Komachi to catch it. Her Pinky Catch instrument is a flute (incidentally, since I think I forgot to mention this in episode 4, Urara’s is a harp), and she almost gets the Pinky when suddenly Bunbee snatches it out of the air and makes his debut in front of the girls. He asks them for the Dream Collet which of course they refuse to hand over, so out comes a mask and he turns the gazebo into a Kowaina. Nozomi leads the girls in transforming, and poor Karen is in over her head.

At that moment, Karen realized she was gay

The four girls fight the Kowaina and have the upper hand, so Bunbee transforms into his monster form. Despite being bee-themed, his armor is mostly red and he has gatling guns on his wrists that he can use to fire a bunch of stingers or one giant stinger. When Cure Mint uses her shield to protect from his barrage of stingers, he fires the giant stinger at them, breaking the shield and leaving the team vulnerable. Karen is watching this from afar and wishes she could help, but she is crippled with fear. Suddenly, a blue butterfly appears and starts flying towards her! Coco tells her to transform, and she doesn’t want to, but she flashes back to all the times she’s carried teams before and sighs, saying she always has to do it herself. The butterfly lands, wraps around her wrist and..... disappears! Everybody is shocked and Karen laments her inability to do anything. Nozomi manages to fire a Dream Attack at the Kowaina, destroying it, and Bunbee retreats with the Pinky.

As the sun sets, Karen tells the four girls that although she believes their story now, clearly she cannot help them, and to please not ask her to join them a third time. Nozomi, not one to take “no” for an answer, declares that she’ll keep fighting to make Karen a part of the team, and the girls walk off. Karen stares longingly at their backs and wonders why she couldn’t transform.

The Analysis

I can only think of two instances in all of Precure where a girl is on the cusp of being able to transform but cannot do it, with the other example being Homare in HUGtto! Precure. It’s a very rare storytelling tool, which makes it all the more poignant. What the audience sees, which Karen needs to learn, is that she wanted to become a Pretty Cure for selfish reasons. She always takes on other people’s burdens, weighing her down, instead of working together to find a solution. We see this during the battle: she is afraid she will get hurt, but when she sees the girls struggling, she thinks she has to take on their burden, to fight instead of them, not with them, which goes against the point of the team: together they can do what any of them individually cannot. It’s okay to want to protect them from danger, but to diminish their abilities and try to take it all on yourself is counter-intuitive. I love the idea of someone failing to become a Precure because their heart is in the wrong place, because it seems like all you see are girls who are put in dangerous situations and rise to the challenge, but not everybody is like that, not everybody can be like that. It’s pretty fascinating.

The looks into Karen’s lifestyle are eye-opening. She has a very strong resemblance to Honoka from FW and MH: she’s from an upper-class background, her parents are always traveling, so she lives at home with only one other person and tries to pretend she’s not lonely. She has one close friend at the start of the show, and is in a position of leadership in the school. on the other hand, Komachi got a lot of Honoka’s more intellectual traits, so you could argue that they split her character into two for this show. Anyway, learning about Karen’s family background helps us to understand why she is how she is, and the journey she has to take both in the next few episodes and over the course of the series. She doesn’t want to make her parents worry, so she has convinced herself that she has to be self-reliant and able to handle any problem on her own instead of asking for help. Also, younger Karen is really cute.

On the opposite end of the spectrum you have Nozomi, the eternal optimist. Nozomi will not see anybody but Karen as the fifth Precure, and she is determined to get her on their team. She knows that if she can get Karen to understand, she’ll do great. But she’s not trying to overrule Karen’s views, she’s trying to make her understand what they’re doing, how, and why. She also wants to understand Karen better, which is why they visit Karen’s house and end up learning more about her lifestyle and background. Of course Nozomi is sad when Karen fails her transformation, but she pushes on to win the fight, and at the end, she says she’s going to try again because she knows Karen can do it. She’s a bit stubborn, and the two girls have that in common, but she’s also deeply compassionate. She sees something that Karen can’t see in herself, and that’s her strength.

This wasn’t her first introduction, but I neglected to talk about her before, so let’s discuss the lunch lady, Otaka-san. She’s a witty middle-aged lady who gives good advice to the students but acts a little frazzled. There’s a running gag where she will add a few zeroes onto the amounts of things, so 200 yen in change becomes 2 million. Her main role in this episode is as a possible candidate for the Precure of Intelligence. Komachi seems to be seriously considering her, but none of the others think it’s a good idea. Later, she sees Karen leaving school very late and comments that she should stop trying to do everything alone, or she’ll never have time to do the things she wants to do. She’ll be a recurring character in this show and she’s fun. Her most distinctive attribute is her raspy voice.

Bunbee is an interesting guy. We’re still very early into his character arc, but already his facade is starting to crack. He wasn’t much more effective in combat than any of his underlings, so it seems like he might be more talk with little to back it up. He still acts very cocky but he might just be the type that enjoys bossing people around. Also, minor note, he shares a voice actor with Uraganos from Max Heart.

Next time on Precure Daily, it’s finally time for the debut of the Precure of Intelligence! Look forward to ti!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 2 kettei!

[ladywinchester1967]

Try

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Character

Warnings: This is porn, damn near no plot. SMUT, dirty talk, spanking. I think that’s it. 

A/N: Based on the gif below the cut; hope ya’ll enjoy!! As always, unbeta’d, all mistakes are mine, pics and gif are not.

I’d slept like the dead, finally. Chronic insomnia was something I’d dealt with for the better part of ten years. So, any good night’s sleep was welcomed. I wandered into the kitchen when I saw possibly one of the most delicious sights I’d ever seen.

My boyfriend, Dean Winchester leaning against the counter, a cup of coffee in one hand and the other’s fingers having powdered sugar licked off of it.

I smiled as the sunlight caught the reds, browns and blonds in his beard, how his body moved with the subtle action, I watched as his hunter instincts clicked and he looked up, seeing me looking at him.

“Good morning.��� He greeted me with a smile

“Good morning indeed.” I said, my eyes running up and down his body.

“Are you,” He asked “checking me out?”

“All’s I have to say,” I said as I leaned up against the door jamb, catching sight of the bulge in his pants “is DAMN.”

“Could say the same thing about you there sweetheart,” He said with a wink and he gave a slight jerk to his head “c’mere.”

I happily obliged, smiling as I crossed the kitchen toward him. I was immediately folded into his long arms, tucked protectively into his chest as he put his coffee aside with his chin on top of my head.

“Did you manage to get some sleep?” He asked, smoothing my hair under his hand.

“Yes, finally.” I told him as I breathed him in, he smelled like his soap, leather and the sharp smell of gun powder.

“Good,” He said as he kissed the crown of my head “I worry when you don’t get sleep.”

“Don’t worry about little, old me.” I told him, kissing the hollow of his throat.

“Little? Yes. Old? No.” He said as I kissed his throat again, a primal growl coming from deep in his chest. “Sweetheart, you better quit that.”

“Or what?” I asked sweetly as I kissed up his neck. I knew exactly what I was doing, this always got him riled up.

“You know what happens when you do that.” He warned as I sucked and nibbled on his skin, making him groan and his fingers dig into my back.

“Maybe I see something I want,” I told him as I stretched up to my tip toes, kissing all the way up the side of his neck, intermediately sucking and biting on his skin “And I’m going after it.” I lightly bit his ear lobe as he shuttered.

“Fuck it.” He said and slid his hands down my back to my ass, where he grabbed it and picked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist as he hurriedly carried me to our room. I giggled as I sucked on his skin, making him firmly smack my ass.

“Dean!” I cried

“You love it.” He chided as he pushed the door to our bedroom open with his foot and then kicked it shut. I raked my hands through his hair and tugged on the longer locks at the top of his head as he slammed me down on the plush bed, making a soft “OOF!” come out of me. He pushed my hair out of my face and attacked my mouth with hungry kisses. His tongue barely swiped across my lips, asking to be let in. I opened my mouth for him, where our tongues twisted together, fighting for dominance. When we parted, we were both breathing hard, looking at each other with desire in our eyes. He crawled off the bed and we both undressed, not taking our eyes off one another. There was something about taking my clothes off in front of him that made me want him more. Once he was bared to me, and I to him, he crawled back on the bed. I reached for his hand, lacing my fingers with his as he covered my body with his as we kissed. His every plane and curve was deliciously pressed against mine as our hands tangled together.

“Dean,” I begged as we kissed “mh, please Dean. I want you.”

He pinned my hands above my head, an animal like glow in his eyes.

“Show me,” he commanded “show me how badly you want me.”

I rolled my hips into his, my fingers squeezing his. His hardened length was lined up with my soaking pussy, I moved, my folds brushing against the ridges of his cock. He growled as we kissed, if he was going to make me beg, I was going to do it right.

“Dean please,” I cooed “don’t you want to be inside me? Hear me make those pretty noises you like?”

“Yes,” He rasped “I want to hear that.”

“You want me to roll over so you can spank my ass? Make it all nice and red while you fuck me?” I watched as he bit his lip, he was holding back from fucking me senseless “or do you want me to spread my legs nice and wide so you can see what you do to me while you fuck me? Hm? You want to watch my tits bounce and my pussy soak your cock?”

He’d had enough playing around with that last sentence. He slipped inside me, hitting my sweet spot so suddenly it nearly made my vision go white.

“Oh, I’m gonna have ALL of that sweetheart.” He said as he kissed me and began to move. He thrust hard into me a few times before flipping me on to all fours. He cracked one of his big hands across my ass, making me cry out.

“DEAN!” I yelled as he held on to my hips and rolled into me. I moaned loudly, gripping the sheets tightly as we moved together. He let out grunts and growls, biting my neck and shoulders.

“You like that huh?” He asked in my ear “me taking what I want from you?”

“Ah!” I yelled and he laid another smack across my ass.

“Answer me.” He said, his voice full of authority.

“Yes!” I choked out “Yes, I love it!”

“There we go,” he said, satisfied “there’s my naughty girl.” He yanked me up so that my back was to his chest, he cupped my breasts and toyed with my nipples, making me whine and scratch my nails down his shoulders. “Mhhh, fuck,” he moaned in my ear “look at my sexy girl, taking my cock so good.” He bit the shell of my ear as a moan tumbled from my mouth, his rough hands sliding down my body and holding my hips in place as he fucked into me. “Always so tight and wet for me.”

“Only you,” I moaned, my nails digging into his arms “only you Dean.”

He moaned into my ear and bit it again.

“Mh, say that again.” He said quietly.

He always seemed to need reassurance in these intimate moments, no matter how often I told him how much I loved him or how much I desired him.

“Only for you Dean,” I said and looked back at him, his emerald green eyes studying my face, as if he was looking for a lie in my expression “just you.”

He kissed me as my hands slid up to the back of his neck and into his hair again, his hips never stopping. He pulled out of me and rolled me on to my back, spreading my legs wide. He slipped back inside me as we both moaned loudly as he nailed my sweet spot again. I dug my nails into his back and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. We moved together, our eyes locking together.

“Like that?” He asked as he picked up his speed, his forehead against mine.

“Yes,” I whimpered “right there!”

He kissed me hard and continued, he bucked his hips hard into me, making my breasts bounce. I palmed them in my hands as he watched, liquid fire dripping down my back as my toes curled. His hungry eyes devoured the sight and he bit his lip.

“Dean, I’m gonna-oh fuck!” I cried

“I’m right behind you,” he said and kissed me “come for me sweet girl.”

The flame rolled from the base of my spine up until it reached my shoulders as I let go, letting it consume me as I cried out his name. His hips slapped into mine, the obscene sound of his skin hitting mine filling the room as he let go, spurting his thick ropes into my womb.

When he finally stilled, his forehead resting in the crook of my neck as we both breathed hard. He pulled his softened cock out of me and then looked up at me.

“Think it worked this time?” He asked softly.

“I guess we’ll find out in a few weeks.” I told him as we kissed.

“I hope it did,” he said as he laid beside me, his hand laying over my belly “I can’t wait to see your belly get all swollen.”

I grinned and kissed him again.

“And I can’t wait to see you hold him or her and cuddle them.”

His thumb skimmed over my skin and we kissed. Even if it didn’t work this time, we’d sure have fun trying anyway.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hope you guys enjoyed that!! Your feedback is always greatly appreciated, feel free to like and share with your followers and maybe hit that “follow” button if you feel so inclined. Hope all of you have a wonderful rest of the day!

The Squad:

@waywardbaby​ @waywardnerd67​ @familybusinesswritingbro​ @ain-t-bovvered​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @girlborninstorms​ @dacleverfox​ @emoryhemsworth​ @bobasheebaby​ @deanscarlett​ @myinconnelly1​ @mogaruke​ @imma-winchester-addict​​ @purpleskiesandcherrypies​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @animerose96​​ @coffee-n-fanfiction​​ @drakelover78​​ @curly-haired-disaster​​ @roonyxx​​ @snffbeebee​​ @ezilyamuzed​​ @mirandaaustin93​​ @srsllydunnodoncare​​ @latetothewinchesterparty​​ @emilyshurley​​ @atc74​​ @midnightsilverafterdark​​ @adoptdontshoppets​​ @biawol​​ @supernatural-teamfreewillpage​​ @spaceystacey123​​ @bella-ca​�� @clo-heda​​ @closetspngirl​​ @thekatherinewinchester​​ @maddiepants​​ @idreamofplaid​ @love-those-boys-in-flannel @flamencodiva

Dean/ Jensen:

@spnbaby-67​ @akshi8278​

[psychosistr]

Interesting- Jotakak SerialKiller!AU Chapter 4

Summary: Kakyoin shows Jotaro a side of himself that few people ever expect. In return, he sees a side of his boyfriend that he never would have expected...

Warning: There is some mild violence against a background character in this chapter. Also, mild warning for language and some referenced lemon-action that isn’t posted in this version.

Edit: Here’s the uncensored version on AO3

Everything finally came to a head one day at school. Kakyoin had been sent out to retrieve some worksheets the teacher forgot in his office that he would need for his next class. Jotaro had volunteered to go with him, but the teacher told him to sit down and stop trying to get out of class since Kakyoin could certainly handle a stack of papers on his own. Kakyoin wouldn’t have minded the company, though- having Jotaro around was still fun and far more interesting than being alone or dealing with any of his classmates, even with his change in behavior.

Kakyoin retrieved the worksheets easily enough and began making his way back to class. A few problems arose, however, in the form of six male students skipping class and smoking in the stair well. They had the style of typical Japanese high school delinquents with scars and badly cut and/or dyed hair, but Kakyoin wasn’t impressed or intimidated by boys like them.

Kakyoin attempted to slip through an opening between them to get up the stairs. “Pardon me.” One of the boys who had been leaning with his back against the wall decided to stick his leg out and block Kakyoin’s path by planting it firmly against the railing in front of him. Kakyoin looked at him, feeling bored and irritated by such a childish attempt at intimidation. “Did you need something?”

The boy in question smirked and lowered his leg, moving to stand directly in Kakyoin’s path and block his way up the stairs with his full body. “Yeah.” He leaned into Kakyoin’s personal space, far too close for Kakyoin’s comfort. “Those sunglasses. They seem pretty cool. Hand ‘em over.”

Kakyoin sighed, feeling even more irritated and leaning back slightly to avoid smelling the cheap tobacco of whatever brand of cigarette the boy had been smoking. “Sorry, but they’re prescription. Even if I did give them to you, it would just make you dizzy and cause you to stumble around like even more of a fool than you already are. Now, kindly get out of my way- my teacher is waiting for me to return with these papers.”

The boy’s eyebrow twitched as his face turned into an angry snarl. “The hell’d you just say to me?”

Kakyoin rolled his eyes under his sunglasses, scowling at the idiot blocking his path. “I said you would look more foolish with these sunglasses and to ‘kindly get out of my way’. Or, in terms you would understand- ‘get the hell out of my way before I make you cry like a bitch in front of your friends’. Are we clear?”

The boy looked positively furious as he grabbed the front of Kakyoin’s shirt tightly in his fist. “Oho, you think you’re a tough guy, huh?!”

One of the boy’s friends glanced around. “Dude, you should be careful- that’s the guy that’s always hangin’ around Kujo from class 2B!”

He looked over Kakyoin’s shoulder at his friend. “Why the fuck should I be worried about that prick?! You think I’m afraid of him?! I could kick his fuckin’ gaijin ass and slap this bitch in front of hi-!” He never got a chance to finish his sentence, as Kakyoin’s unoccupied hand had curled into a fist and slammed into his nose, effectively silencing him and forcing him to stumble back to fall on the stairs and release Kakyoin’s shirt. “?!!”

The other guys got up from their various relaxed positions and looked at their friend’s bloody face. “Asahi-kun?!”

Kakyoin ignored them and set the papers down on a higher up step so that they were out of the way. After the stack of worksheets was out of harm’s way, he cracked his knuckles and glared down at the punk lying beneath him. He was positively livid.

“You could have just let me walk by. That would have been the end of it.” He grabbed the boy by the front of his shirt, parodying what had been done to him earlier. “But, I’m afraid you’ve made three poor choices just now. Shall we go over them?” He placed his free hand over the boy’s already damaged nose and gripped it firmly. “Mistake number one: You grabbed me without my permission.” He used his grip on the boy’s nose to further snap it out of shape, utilizing the break in the cartilage he’d made earlier.

The boy let out a loud yelp of pain. “GYAAAAHH!”

Kakyoin shifted his weight onto one foot while raising the other over the boy’s foot, which was positioned over a gap in the stairs. “Mistake number two: You called me a bitch, and I am NO ONE’S bitch.” He stomped down with a chilling crunch, breaking the boy’s ankle and making his foot twist around to face the wrong way.

The boy screamed that time, the sound echoing off of the walls. “AAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!”

“Asahi-kun!” One of his friends yelled and made a move to grab Kakyoin. “Get the fuck off of him, you bast-!” He stopped and froze when Kakyoin’s free hand produced a green-handled butterfly flick blade and easily snapped it open. Without a word, Kakyoin stabbed the closest boy in the leg as a warning to the others to stay away, the boys scrambling to catch their injured friend before he fell down the stairs and broke anything. “!!!”

Kakyoin smirked and looked back down at his main target, looming over the bleeding and crying boy beneath him. “Your third mistake, however, was the worst one of all..if not for that one, I may have let you off with a warning..” He brought the knife down to press against the boy’s cheek, the blade perfectly sharp and already causing a bead of blood to slip out of a shallow cut. “Do you know what that mistake was?” He could hear the sound of footsteps in the distance, probably onlookers drawn by the scream earlier.

The boy tried to shake his head, but he whimpered when the action made the knife cut him again. “P-Please, just-just let me go!”

Kakyoin ignored him and positioned the knife where he wanted it to start cutting properly. “Mistake number three…” He started pressing the knife in through the pliant flesh of the punk’s cheek, his voice low and dangerous. “You insulted my BOYFRIEND. That was a very STUPID thing to do. I think the responsible thing to do here would be to let everyone know what an idiot you are, don’t you agree?”

The screaming and begging from the boy was music to Kakyoin’s ears as he began carving into his face. He released the boy’s shirt to instead grip his head, holding it firmly in place so the lines would come out straight. By the time he was finished, the boy’s tears were mixing beautifully with the blood and making him scream louder from the fresh pain of the salty tears getting into his open wounds.

Kakyoin eventually released him to look over his handiwork, pleased with how it turned out. The message was simple and straightforward, the characters for “baka” (meaning idiot/fool) were outlined with a crooked heart that cut partially into his lower eyelid and the corner of his mouth. All that was left was to sign it-

“Nori..?” He heard the deep voice of his boyfriend above him and looked up. He spotted Jotaro half a flight up the stairs, looking down at him with the widest eyes Kakyoin had ever seen on his face. He looked shocked, but not horrified at all.

Kakyoin smiled up at him sweetly, waving with the hand holding the bloody knife casually. “Ah, hey, Jojo. I’ll be with you in just a moment- I’m almost done.” He leaned down to the boy with a terrifying, sadistic smirk. “Looks like you got lucky- I’d rather go spend time with my boyfriend than finish dealing with you. Just one more thing before I go, though.” He pressed the blade to the boy’s throat, feeling the quivering of his adam’s apple under the blade as it drew a thin line across his throat in warning. “If you or your little friends ever start anything with me again, say anything negative about my boyfriend, or if anyone else finds out about what happened today..my face will be the last thing that ANY of you will get to see in this world. Are we clear?” When the boy only whimpered in response, Kakyoin pressed the knife in a bit deeper. “ARE WE CLEAR?” He asked more firmly.

“Yes! Yes, we are! Yes!” The boy answered frantically, sobbing out loud.

“Good.” Kakyoin smiled and stood up straight. He grabbed the boy’s sleeve and used it to wipe the blood off of his knife before pocketing it again and going to retrieve the stack of papers from earlier. He walked up the stairs to where Jotaro was waiting for him and gave him that same sweet smile from earlier. “I think I’ll leave these outside of the classroom so we can go talk. Sound good?”

“…Mh…” Was the grunted answer he received as the two made their way up to the classroom.

After leaving the papers outside of the door and knocking to let the teacher know they were there, Kakyoin followed Jotaro to an empty classroom on the far side of the building. Once they were both inside, Jotaro shut and locked the door before finally turning to look at Kakyoin.

“What was that about?” Jotaro asked as he watched Kakyoin sit casually on top of the teacher’s desk.

“Oh, nothing to worry about. We simply had a disagreement and I resolved it.” Kakyoin said while leaning his weight back onto his hands.

“Uh huh.” Jotaro walked up to him, looking down at Kakyoin with an unreadably neutral expression. “And did this ‘disagreement’ involve me?”

Kakyoin tilted his head to the side, bringing a finger to his chin in a mock-thoughtful gesture. “Weeeell..not originally, no..but your name did come up in an unflattering way. It’s fine, though. Like I said- I resolved it.”

“With a knife?” Jotaro questioned.

“It was effective.” Kakyoin said while shrugging, looking up at his boyfriend. “Does that bother you?”

“Yeah…but not like that…” He replied.

Kakyoin was confused about what Jotaro meant by that until he suddenly found himself being pressed back into the desk with 195 centimeters of height and 82 kilograms of pure muscle on top of him while familiar lips firmly pressed against his own.

Kakyoin was a bit surprised, to say the least. Even with Jotaro’s shift in behavior lately, the most they’d ever done at school were light kisses when no one was around and walking with Jotaro’s arm around him. Now, though, they were full on making-out on a teacher’s desk with Jotaro’s tongue already finding its way into his mouth. It was a welcome change of pace, though, and Kakyoin soon found himself enjoying the deep, passionate kiss that Jotaro was giving him.

Jotaro’s hands began to slide around Kakyoin’s body, one stroking along his side and the other squeezing his thigh. “Mhh..Nori..” Jotaro panted against Kakyoin’s lips when they finally broke for air, but he quickly dove back down to bite and kiss at Kakyoin’s neck. “Fuck..you’re hot..”

Kakyoin sighed and tilted his head, giving his boyfriend more room. “Hmhh..good to know you won’t get turned off by those little displays..” He unbuttoned the top of his uniform shirt enough that Jotaro could pull it aside and bite further down his neck, wringing a low moan out of Kakyoin from the eager attention.

Jotaro sucked a deep bruise in a spot that would be hidden by Kakyoin’s shirts later before speaking again. “Does that happen a lot?”

Kakyoin shrugged with his opposite shoulder to avoid bumping Jotaro in the face. “Sometimes. There are a few things I don’t tolerate: People calling me anything effeminate. People touching me without my permission. And..” He laced his fingers through Jotaro’s hair in a soothing, affectionate gesture. “People insulting or threatening someone I care about.”

“……” Jotaro was quiet and still for a moment. Kakyoin was fine with that, he just continued running his fingers through Jotaro’s dark locks. Finally, he moved his head back up to look Kakyoin in the eyes. “Do I have permission to touch you?” The I really want to touch you was left unsaid, but Kakyoin picked up on it nonetheless.

“Jojo…” With a quiet chuckle, Kakyoin carefully removed Jotaro’s signature hat from his head. He enjoyed the way the larger boy’s ears turned a little red and he averted his eyes- he hated feeling defenseless and open, but he clearly trusted Kakyoin enough that he didn’t even try to get his hat back. Kakyoin set the hat aside and brought his hands up to cup the sides of Jotaro’s face while looking him in the eyes. “How do you want to touch me? Depending on your answer, I may say yes.”

There was no hesitation when Jotaro replied. “I want to worship you.”

A shiver ran down Kakyoin’s spine at the conviction with which Jotaro spoke. The serious look in his eyes, despite the dusting of red along his ears, was almost intoxicating. “Jotaro…” Kakyoin’s smile turned into a teasing smirk as he laid himself out appealingly on the desk. “That was the right answer. You have my permission.”

“That..That was..incredible, Jojo..” He smiled down at his boyfriend with a little less sadism this time, more joking rather than serious now that he was caught in his post-orgasmic afterglow. “I never thought you’d be that good..have you actually done this before? Do I need to be jealous?”

“No.” Jotaro replied, his voice a bit raspy from the serious fucking that his throat just endured. “You’re the only one.”

“Good.” Kakyoin petted his boyfriend’s head, stroking the mess he’d made of his hair into a slightly better shape. “Would you like me to return the favor?”

Jotaro closed his eyes and leaned into Kakyoin’s touch. “Hm..don’t need to..”

Kakyoin was about to say that he really didn’t mind (even if he may not be as good as Jotaro at it), when he sat up a bit more and looked down. He saw that, at some point, Jotaro had slipped his cock out of his pants and it was now softening just like Kakyoin’s own. He also noticed a splash of white on the teacher’s desk in front of Jotaro’s lap…

“Did..Did you..” Kakyoin blinked, looking both surprised and confused. Jotaro’s hands had been on him nearly the entire time, there was no way he’d been touching himself. So..that meant.. “Did you just..cum from sucking me off..?”

“……” Jotaro tilted his head down slightly, the tips of his ears a little red but his expression otherwise as calm and stoic as ever “..It was hot…”

“………” Kakyoin stared silently for a moment before his face split into a big grin and he climbed off of the desk, right into his surprised boyfriend’s lap. Kakyoin then cupped Jotaro’s cheeks in his hands and forced him to lift his head again so he could kiss him on the lips.

“…?” Jotaro was surprised at first, but he seemed unable to deny Kakyoin anything and was soon kissing him back.

The kiss was tender and loving, filled with warmth and adoration that contrasted starkly with the fact that Kakyoin was still naked (aside from the shirt barely hanging onto his elbows) and there was cum drying on the desk directly behind him. They stayed like that for a while, taking their time kissing and making out and just being close to one another.

Kakyoin was the one to end the kiss just as he had started it, smiling at Jotaro and stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m so glad you’re mine- you really are perfect for me. I’m very lucky.” He kissed the corner of Jotaro’s mouth sweetly and gazed at him.

Jotaro looked away, unable to meet the sincerity and adoration in Kakyoin’s eyes. “……” He didn’t say anything back, but the look in his eyes and the way he quietly squeezed Kakyoin’s hand said everything:

“I’m lucky to have you.”

“I don’t want you to ever leave me.”

“I love you.”

Kakyoin squeezed Jotaro’s hand back to return every sentiment that remained unspoken, happy to simply have the other boy by his side.

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

-From the Beginning-

[kbstories]

So, I finished The Wild Hunt and whoo boy the ending just got me thinking all over again, here’s another fic.......

In The Embers

Tags: Geralt & Lambert & Eskel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst With A Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Family Bonding, aka the Wolf Bros are good bros, Lambert POV

Thanks again to my beta @aergos!!

>> Read on AO3

“Mister witcher, sir!”

At first Lambert thinks it the beginning of the usual insults thrown his way. He doesn't pause for it, mounts his horse in one swift move, his hand clenched to a fist around the reins. No matter how much time passes, the omnipresent hatred for his mere existence gets marginally easier to bear–

A boy jumps in his way, practically in front of his horse's hooves, and only a call of “Aiden, halt!” prevents him from eating dirt.

“Hey, watch where you're–”

“Sir”, the other persists, determined now that he has the witcher's attention, and Lambert squints at his gangly limbs and the patchy fuzz on his chin. Not quite a boy, then, and courageous at that.

Still. He almost gave Aiden a heart attack and Lambert is in no mood to look for a new horse or to entertain some peasant kid, for that matter. “What do you want? If it's monster trouble, post a damn note, I'm busy.”

The boy doesn't move an inch, despite Lambert's best glare. His hands are shaking, though, as he roots through his bag for something. Finally, a crinkled envelope is held out to him.

“'s a letter, sir, from Novigrad. Sent by a bard named–“

“Give me that.”

Lambert snatches it away before the kid can react. Brow furrowed, he confirms it's from Dandelion; there's a suspicious lack of decor to it, however. “And you're sure you got the right witcher?”

“Absolutely certain, sir”, says the boy. “Was told to look for black hair and scars and a sour face a-and, um...”

Definitely less courageous now, with his features pale as the moon, and Lambert finds some mercy in him after all. He waves him closer, gives him some coin for a warm meal and some mead, if he strikes a good deal. He'll manage. Seems like the clever sort.

Dandelion, however... Regardless of what this is about, the witcher will have his revenge. Sour face, hah. He hasn't even seen Lambert angry.

Coins in hand, the boy practically leaps away with a hasty bow in Lambert's general direction. Clearly unused to his kind, if his first instinct is to treat him like a knight.

Lambert chews on that for a moment before making quick work of the envelope. Worry makes itself known in the back of his mind. If Dandelion went through the trouble of tracking him down, then–

The paper is clumsily folded, and stinks of fear. No, stress. Concern. Not good – Lambert's heart pounds faster. He skips the greeting, skims the hastily written words and–

Ciri is dead.

Lambert reads it, and then reads it again, eyes going wide as their meaning sinks in. His thoughts, frozen in a brief instant of shock, fly in all directions at once.

A tug of reins makes Aiden turn sharply, the press of Lambert's heels at his side urgent; and Lambert doesn't notice the wind whipping through his hair or how the world goes blurry around the edges.

Geralt, he thinks, and pushes on ever faster.

*

It feels like years until the forest around him turns familiar, deeply so, and the witcher turns to the rapidly approaching mountain range for orientation.

Nevertheless the last leg of his journey goes by in a flash; the shadows grow longer under the setting sun, and soon Kaer Morhen towers over him, its high walls taking the last light with it. On any other day, Lambert would've stopped and stared, would've given himself a minute or two to take in the sight of the crumbling keep once more.

He doesn't, however. The tense coil wrapped around his heart won't allow it, the storm swirling in his mind rendering any focus other than finding Geralt impossible, and finally Lambert understands.

There's no doubt his eyes carry the same hunted look he had, that time they met in Novigrad. No wonder Geralt had pushed himself and even his beloved Roach to her limits in his search – uncertainty is it's own kind of torture, and even the strongest might break under the weight of what if.

Lambert actively stops himself from reaching for the letter again. He knows it by memory now, not that it contained much to begin with:

Ciri, gone. Geralt, missing without a trace.

His fame and relative sociability belies his skill to remain in the shadows if he so wishes – and once a witcher of Geralt's caliber decides to disappear, there's not much to be done. Contacting Lambert had been Dandelion's last resort, but even he couldn't pick up a single solid lead on the White Wolf.

Yet Lambert refuses to let him go like he did Aiden, hell, even Vesemir; turning his back after everything was said and done felt natural then, it's what the Path demanded of him. Never attached, never sticking around... But something about Geralt makes him want to try, that same fire he showed for Ciri burning within him, too.

They're family, not by blood but by choice, and he'll be damned if he fails him like he failed the others.

Thus Lambert doesn't hesitate, and he doesn't cower under Kaer Morhen's heavy gates. Something – his senses, or maybe a rare bout of optimism – tells him this old keep isn't abandoned just yet.

Maybe fate is on his side, this time.

*

The first lit lantern inside the ramparts proves his hunch right, and it's not hard to guess who ignited it when he brings Aiden to the stables and finds two other horses in their respective boxes.

Lambert recognizes Scorpion easily enough – there's only few mounts black as night, and hours of listening to Eskel's equivalent of swooning made sure he won't forget it – and Roach is curious as ever, gently bumping her nose against Lambert's shoulder.

“'fraid I got nothing”, he murmurs and rubs the white spot between her eyes, glancing her over. Small cuts and scrapes interrupt the white markings on her legs. Nothing too grave, though.

“Had a rough journey, hm? Good girl. Things're gonna be okay, you'll see.”

Even the hardened heart of a witcher can't resist the concentrated effort of all three horses to plead with their eyes; Lambert sighs, hunts down some hay that's safe to feed amongst all the moldy bales left behind after the battle.

It's the least they deserve for their hard work.

Leaving them and their contented munching behind, the few stone steps to the keep's entrance are quickly climbed. Suddenly, the wolf medallion around Lambert's neck stirs: a gentle hum at first, barely noticeable through the thick layers of his armor, yet the closer he gets, the stronger it vibrates.

Magic? Lambert's hand goes to his silver sword by instinct, his enhanced senses picking up some movement–

“Drawing your sword on me? Not the warm welcome I expected.”

Amber eyes flash in the dark, the faint moonlight catching on pale skin and the clawed scars marring it. “Stop creeping in the shadows like a damn ekimmara and I might reconsider”, Lambert huffs, nonetheless sheathing his sword.

“I see you beat me here, Eskel.”

They shake hands, Eskel's crooked smile a little smug. Lambert lets him have it. Just being around the older witcher soothes some of the restlessness inside him – there's little in the world that can break Eskel's calm nature, and out of anyone, he's the one who's known Geralt the longest.

All too soon, the warm feeling of seeing a friendly face runs cold; Lambert nods to the closed door, “Is he...?”, and watches the other closely as his expression notably dims.

“Mh. Can't say I recommend going in there, though.”

Eskel exhales slowly, sitting down on a piece of broken masonry. The way he carries himself is... defeated, almost, similar to the last time they parted after Vesemir's pyre had burned down to embers.

The sudden weight on his chest denies Lambert a proper breath. “That bad, huh? Shit.” He shakes his head, rubs his neck. For a moment, the rasp of his beard against the worn leather of his gloves is the only sound. Then:

“I just hoped–“

“Yeah. Me too.”

More silence. His medallion is still trembling, so too is Eskel's – and after weeks of travel and hundreds of miles crossed, waiting even for a second longer is the last thing Lambert feels like doing. Frustration seethes within him, making him pace with his eyes fixed on the keep.

Finally, he can't take it anymore. Hissing “Fuck this” under his breath, Lambert is half-way past Eskel when a strong grip wraps around his wrist.

“Lambert.”

“What?!”, he snaps back, tense under the other's unexpected touch. “We can't sit around and leave him–“

“You're right.” Eskel's eyes seek his, gaze steady and yet soft with concern as he lets him go. “Just... Be careful. Geralt– I've never seen him like this.”

The anger leaves Lambert in an instant; he nods, hesitating before he briefly rests his hand on Eskel's shoulder and squeezes. Then he's past him, only the cracked wood of the door stands between him and Geralt.

Lambert steels himself and opens it.

Darkness surrounds him the moment he steps inside. The dull light from outside barely spills past the threshold, but it's the near-oppressive presence of magic hitting his senses like a physical punch that staggers him: even the very air tastes of it, and Lambert's unease grows.

“Geralt?”

His voice carries far within the keep's stone walls, but no answer arises. Great. Eskel's warning fresh in his mind, Lambert ventures into the darkened room like he would a monster's lair – with his senses on high alert and ready to cast the Quen sign if need be.

Despite the years and decades since his training, Kaer Morhen's halls remain fundamentally the same; any witcher raised here could walk them blindly, and finding a candelabra that works is merely a matter of trial and error. A few candles ignite on Lambert's command, their timid flames reaching towards the center–

He catches a flash of white before his medallion lurches and something comes flying towards him. Lambert's fingers move without conscious thought; the golden glow of Quen lasts but a split second before it's shattered again and the crash of splintering wood sounds behind him.

Lambert doesn't take his eyes off his target though, even if his lips pull into a joyless smirk. “Did you just throw a table at me?”, he says, letting some indignation slip into his voice. “That what you did to Eskel, too? Poor guy's not faring well out in the doghouse, Geralt.”

The icy glare from across the room makes him reconsider not drawing his sword. “Leave”, Geralt growls. It's pretty clear it's not a suggestion.

Lambert hums, eyeing the surrounding destruction, then the witcher who caused it in barely-there glances. His chest is bare and practically dripping with sweat, hair wild, muscles taut, trembling with exertion. Geralt's been at it a while, it seems.

Not good at all.

“Nah. Just got here an' it's cold as balls outside. If you want to toss around some more furniture, I suggest the chair to your right. Still in one piece, that's a plus.”

Step by small step, he forces his stride to be casual as he approaches – Geralt's eyes never leave him, pupils narrowed to thin, angry slits, and Lambert doesn't miss the positioning of his arm, ready to strike again.

“Look. I get it, company's probably the last thing you want right now but–“

Maybe it's his calming tone of voice, or the placating show of hands; Geralt grinds his teeth hard enough Lambert can hear it, the chair goes flying, Lambert's countering Aard push only doing so much in blocking the blow.

Sheer wind pressure knocks him back, flattens him against a pillar, and for a moment Lambert sees stars as all the air in his lungs is pressed out in one strangled breath. Blinking away the dark spots, he can only pant in a desperate attempt to get oxygen back into his body.

Somewhere behind his unresponsive lungs, the witcher's pulse starts to race. Shit shit shit. If Geralt's serious about this – and by the way he's stalking closer, he is – there's no way Lambert's living through this. Just the thought of fighting his friend, his brother, with all he has makes his stomach churn.

Lambert holds out his hand. “Geralt–“

“That's enough!”

Like thunderclap, the words seems to freeze time itself for the blink of an eye. Lambert barely recognizes Eskel underneath the absolute wrath in his voice, and before Geralt can as much as turn around, a blast of Aard blows him clean off his feet and into some debris behind him.

The sight of Eskel's back in front of him makes that remnant of fear, that small part of him that is still scared of loud voices and fisted hands deep inside ease, and Lambert can breathe again. “Eskel, stop”, he rasps. “I'm alright, he didn't–“

“He intended to, that's reason enough.”

Somewhere ahead, the rustling of moving rubble goes ignored by Eskel who helps the younger witcher to his feet. “Smacked that pillar pretty hard”, he mutters, anger replaced by worry; Lambert pushes him away.

“'m fine, head's fine, ribs're fine, get out of my face.”

Even now, that petulant tone draws a fond look from Eskel, however brief. “Alright, you're snapping at me, we're good. Geralt?”

He doesn't raise his voice, there's no need to: the third and last Wolf is standing a few paces away, expression unreadable yet Lambert doesn't miss the short glance his way. “Could've pulled that punch a little”, says Geralt at last, without the usual dryness or humor.

Eskel shrugs. “Payback's a bitch and you deserved it. Wolf school witchers kicked out of Kaer Morhen by one of their own – Vesemir would have our heads, no matter the reason.”

There's more than a little venom in Geralt's hissed “Vesemir's dead”, and it's in that moment that Lambert steps between them, pushing them apart.

“Okay, that's the line. Let's all just shut up, get our shit, pool whatever booze we have and drink till we forget this ever happened. Deal? Good. Eskel, with me.”

He doesn't check for Eskel's or Geralt's reaction; instead, Lambert walks out with measured strides, eyes closing in relief when another, heavier gait soon follows.

They don't talk while they gather their many packs, weapons and saddle bags, even though there's a lot to be said about... whatever the blazes that was: first and foremost, how it's possible that Lambert is the rational one in all this – but he watches Eskel forcefully grab his gear to head inside, expression cold and eyes distant, and thinks that Kaer Morhen might've stayed the same but they haven't, and maybe, time has changed them more than they want to admit.

If only Vesemir wasn't–

Lambert sighs quietly to himself.

Yeah, if only.

>> Read on AO3

[slugass]

follow up to the last thing about voice cracks

found one myself

WHY DOES TUBE DUDE LOOK LIKE THAT LMFAOOOOOOOOO

(i know why bc he’s squeezing more paint out but WTF IS THAT)

anyways you can reblog this with other instances of voice cracks in mhs you’ve found