#milk writes

[milkywaydrabbles]

21 from kinktober list with alucard 👀 I can see him and fem reader trying to seduce trevor and sypha into their bed… perhaps greta can join too 😏

A/N: This was such a daunting request I didn't know if I'd be able to do it or not tbh but IT'S HERE!!! This is a little bit of a monster but I hope you like it, I put blood sweat and tears into this req for you MWUAH

Threesome or Moresome x Alucard, Trevor, Sypha

“Honey, just think about it.”

“This is embarrassing, absolutely not.”

“Adrian, you don’t think I didn’t see how you used to look at them? Before really being with me?” 

That stopped him in his tracks.

Alucard thought he was so good and hiding his face, his glances, his pout whenever he saw how the two doted on each other. But he wore his heart on his sleeve, and you could see right through him.

“I love you, dearly, and I know you love me.” You sighed into his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. “But if you want this, I’ll indulge. I’ll even bring it up first, if you’d like.” You reassured, feeling his arms tighten around you. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not enough for me, darling..” You held his chin, moving it to make him look up at you, eyes full of love and affection. “I know I’m enough for you, my love. But let yourself enjoy this. If they say no, well that’s that. But what if they say yes?”

Alucard groaned, blush covering his face. 

“Fine. We’ll ask.”

-

“You know, you really outdo yourself with dinner every time, really, but the wine is still outmatched.” Sypha slaps a hand on Trevor’s chest, looking over as if to say ‘what?’ while you cackled a laugh, and Alucard sighed, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. He can’t believe he’s actually fantasized about this. “Dinner is delicious as usual.” Sypha interjected, the four of you now lounging in the grand living room. The castle was quite gorgeous, after all this time of you and Alucard both working at it to become a home once again. They still didn’t know how you of all people stuck around with him. (Well, Sypha understood, mostly Trevor being a dick.) You fought valiantly by their side, holding your own as a witch in their midsts. They were sure you’d go on your own to continue fighting the masses. Instead, you stayed--and built a life with Alucard. Hell, you even called him Adrian. (It warmed his heart that his name would still be remembered.) 

“Thank you, Sypha, as for the wine, you should really be thanking Adrian, Belmont. He knows how to source a good red.” You winked over at him, seeing his pale skin turn ablaze with crimson. “Ah, right, thank you Adrian.” You knew Trevor was simply teasing, but it gave you a glimpse of hope when the brunette winked at your lover the same way you did. His stomach flipped, palms sweating as he steeled himself for you to bring up probably the most embarrassing request he could imagine. 

Even more embarrassing when he was caught with makeshift dolls of the couple in his kitchen.

“Actually, Trevor, Sypha. We have...a proposal. For the two of you.” the Speaker’s interest piqued, cocking a brow.  You looked over to Alucard, taking his hand in yours and rubbing soothing circles into his palm. “Alright? Out with it already.” Belmont was impatient as always. You glanced at him once more, making sure he was still okay with the interest. And when you saw him nod, you continued.

“We’d like to sleep with you, both.”

You could hear a pin fall with how the silence cut through the air of the castle. You looked perfectly calm, smiling at the couple across from you that couldn’t quite believe what they were hearing. In reality you were scared to death. You didn’t want to be the one to bring it up, but Alucard had whispered his desires to you in the comfort of your bed, after taking you over and over again one night. How were you ever supposed to say no to him? Besides, it’s not like you hadn’t thought of it yourself after he brought it up. 

Sypha was the first to break the silence, tapping on Trevor’s jaw to have him close his fucking mouth. “Ah--” She cleared her throat, before starting again. “That was ah, quite the joke you two!” She nervously laughed, hoping you’d eventually crack your facade. You didn’t. “Not a joke Sypha, right Adrian?” You looked over at your lover, whose face was still flushed. “We’ve ah....discussed, inviting you to our bed before, if you were comfortable.” Trevor snorted a laugh. “Always knew you wanted me--the muscles usually do it.” He flexed an arm, now it was your turn to slap at him, before laying your hand a bit too close to his crotch, released Alucard’s hand and mirroring on Sypha’s lap. “You can take your time to think about it, you can say no right now...but the offer is there.” The two looked at each other, hearts racing as they took you up on your offer.

-

The four of you sat on your shared bed, large enough to comfortably fit you all. The two were hesitant, you can tell, which meant you would have to lead the way until everyone was comfortable. You gently held onto Sypha’s hand, pulling her towards you close enough to caress her face with your other hand. “Tell me to stop if you ever feel uncomfortable..” You whispered, watching her glance down at your lips with parted mouth, nodding once before meeting you in a soft kiss. You heard a faint gasp, not sure which male it’s coming from. You ignore it either way, angling her face towards you to deepen the kiss, hand on her face moving to run your fingers through her hair, gripping the back of her head. “Fuck.” Trevor’s deep voice rumbled through you, feeling his breath tickle at your neck. He kissed your skin, hands slowly exploring your body from behind as you continued with Sypha, biting at her lip asking for permission to go further. The speaker opened her mouth, letting you explore her mouth with your tongue, licking at her teeth and tongue. She gasped when feeling a new presence behind her, Alucard’s hands grasping at her chest through her clothes, fangs scraping at her neck. You detached yourself from her to take in the sight before you: Alucard kissing and suckling bites into Sypha’s neck, her hand reaching back to grip at his blonde tresses, mouth hanging open and already panting. 

It made you so wet looking at them. You kissed the other side of her neck while Trevor started groping you, hands moving up and down your body, even rubbing at your clothed pussy for a moment before moving back up. You moaned, looking up at Sypha and Alucard sharing a heated kiss, his hand covering her throat. You were pulled back. “I don’t know how I feel about him kissing my wife like that..” The Belmont mumbled, and with a snicker you turned to look at him, both hands running through his silky hair. “Then why don’t you kiss his wife like that?” You challenge, immediately being pressed closer to him with a moan. Your shared kiss with Trevor wasn’t as soft, not like a woman’s touch--it was all tongue and teeth, his hands gripping at you and moving to take your clothes off as quickly as possible. You couldn’t help but giggle, looking back to see Alucard doing the same to Sypha. You shared a look with him, making sure you were both still on the same page. A hand shot out,gripping at your jaw and turning your head. “Look at me, beautiful. Wanna be in on the fun.” Fuck. You understood why your sweet and charming husband looked at Belmont with lust in his eyes. You palmed at his crotch, Trevor hissing into your mouth and bucking into your hand. “Take these off, Trevor..” You mumbled against his lips, feeling entirely too exposed in comparison to him. Throwing caution to the wind Trevor discarded his clothes quickly, latching himself back onto you. You trailed your kisses down his body, across his strong chest, chiseled abs, making sure to lick over all the scars that littered his body on the way down. You gave special treatment around his adonis belt, licking his happy trail along the way. “Fuck, Alucard you never said your wife was insatiable.” He joked, though his laughter came out shakier than he intended it to. 

“Same could be said to you.” He mumbled against Sypha’s skin, who was writhing underneath him already. He was kissing and biting at her hips, trailing his tongue and fangs to the inside of her thighs, exposed cunt near his face. Sypha leaned up on her forearms, watching his every move with baited breath, letting out soft whimpers each time he bit down on a particularly sensitive spot on her thighs. She wanted to complain, wanted to beg him to stop teasing her the way she would have with Trevor--but when he peaked up through his long lashes and those beautiful hues looked at her, well, she couldn’t help but let him continue at an excruciatingly slow pace. One of his hands trailed up her body, groping and pinching at her tit and nipple, pulling the hard bud here and there in between. Sypha moaned, opening her legs up more for him and bucking up, in hopes he would move faster to where she wanted it. He clicked his tongue once, before licking a stripe up her pussy. “So impatient..” He whispered against her, other arm wrapping around underneath her thigh and pulling her flush against his face, lapping up her juices as she squirmed above him. “Oh, fuck.” Sypha fell against the bed, both hands tugging at Alucard’s hair as he moved to fuck her on his tongue. No matter how eloquent the man seemed, Alucard ate pussy like a man starved. And he had been wanting her for so long, lusting after the couple from the moment they met. He wouldn’t let her go dissatisfied. 

Trevor couldn’t help but look at the sight before him: his friend going down on his wife that was writhing in pleasure underneath him. He wanted to feel a pang of jealousy, really he did, but he was so turned on it made his dick jump. He heard you giggle underneath him, licking from the tip of his cock down to his balls. A hand slowly pumped him as he bit back a moan, swallowing hard as you continued to tease and kiss at his dick. “They look good, don’t they?” You commented on the couple next to you, mouthing at the length before engulfing his cock into your mouth, sucking and spitting it. Trevor shuddered a breath, bucking his hips deeper into your mouth accidentally, letting out a small moan when he saw how good you took him in your mouth. Trevor was a bit girthier than Alucard, but what he lacked in thickness he made up for in length. You were fortunately very used to being face fucked, taking Trevor’s length was easy for you, if only just a tad shorter. He pet your hair, grabbing at the roots and letting you set a pace, leaning over and smacking your ass for good measure. You moaned around him, stuttering and gagging around him from the sudden slap. 

You felt a delicate hand slip two fingers into your soaking cunt, causing you to moan again around the brunette. Behind you was Sypha, slowly fucking her fingers into your wet heat. Her head was spinning with how good Alucard was eating her, but having your pussy right in her face was driving her mad. She wanted a taste, even if just from licking the juices off her fingers. Alucard noticed, releasing the grip he had on her just enough for her to reposition herself underneath you, grabbing at your hips and begging you to sit on her face. “Beautiful pussy..” you heard her whisper, bringing a heat to your face. Sypha was sloppy, still so new to eating cunt but her desire to make you feel good was so overwhelming she couldn’t help but keep licking at you. She was a quick learner, feeling your hole clench around her tongue whenever she licked up a certain way, your hips pressing down harder into her face when she sucked your clit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you rutted against her face, feeling Trevor take control of her head and fucking into your throat. 

Alucard brought Sypha up to her first orgasm, pushing two fingers into her heat and curling up--hitting that squishy spot that had her creaming on his face. She moaned into your pussy, causing you to hump at her face using her to get to your high. It wasn’t long until you were there, sucking harsh on your nub when you came. “You girls look so good when you cum.” Trevor laughed breathlessly, pulling you off his cock to let you catch your breath. Alucard chuckled, removing the last of his clothes and kneeling. “I’d have to agree with you Belmont, they’re gorgeous aren’t they.” The compliments had you preening, turning around stradling Spyha, rubbing your body on hers as you tasted yourself on her tongue, before looking up at your husband with a salacious smile. “I want a taste~” You cooed, pulling him down for a kiss and licking into his mouth with a moan. “Taste so good on his tongue, Sypha.” Her body shuddered, a light blush dusting her skin. Alucard looked over at Trevor, slowly pumping his cock as he eyed both yours and Sypha’s pussy on display for him. “Do you want a taste, Belmont?” Alucard was treading lightly, still unsure if Trevor would reciprocate. “Fuck, come here you stupid vampire.” Without a second thought, Trevor grabbed the back of Alucard’s neck and smashed his lips against him, biting and licking his lips, tongues circling each other in a fight to dominate the other. Alucard whimpered, letting Trevor take the lead as he licked into his mouth, the blonde’s nails clawing down Trevor’s chest and grabbing a hold of his hard cock. The vampire hunter hissed, pulling back to look at the way Alucard stroked him, huffing as Alucard traveled south to suck him off. Trevor moaned, head being thrown back as the other male sucked him off with enthusiasm. Alucard bobbed his head, tongue sticking out from his mouth and slurped the spit that was dribbling from his mouth. 

You moved to get underneath Alucard, enough to be able to take his cock into your mouth. He was incredibly hard, leaking precum over the sheets as he continued to ignore his own pleasure for everyone elses’. So selfless. You lapped up the stickiness from the head, and trailing down to his balls, taking one into your mouth and laving your tongue over it, while your hand jerked at his enlarged cock. He stuttered on Trevor’s cock, causing him to release him with a pop and take hold with his hand, flicking his wrist and keeping a pleasurable pressure on him. “Ah fuck, darling, so good for me.” He groaned, gripping the roots at the crown of your head, pulling you up to shove you down onto his cock. You gagged, regaining your composure as you continued to choke around him, nosing his pubes with each thrust he gave you. Alucard continued giving Trevor attention, wrapping his pretty lips against his dick again, nails clawing at his thighs with each thrust Trevor decided to meet with his bobbing. 

Sypha moved up to kiss Trevor, tongue licking at his mouth, gripping his broad shoulders as they made out. He dipped two fingers into her wet cunt, pistoning them in and out of her sloppy pussy. “Fuck, they’re better than I thought they’d be.” Trevor all but moaned into her mouth, and she nodded in agreement, fucking herself down on his thick fingers. Trevor pulled Alucard off his cock, the dhampir’s eyes glassing over with lust, pulling him up for a quick kiss before whispering against him: “I want to fuck your wife.”

You and Sypha moved in tandem, face down ass up towards Trevor, practically presenting your dripping cunts to him while the two of you moved to lick and suck Alucard’s cock and balls. It was nearly overwhelming ,feeling the love of his life share his dick with his friend, exchanging kisses and spit with each other. He almost forgot why he was in this position in the first place before hearing you squeal. Trevor pushed into your tight heat, pussy greedily sucking him in with each thrust. “Fuck! Pussy so good.” He growled, grabbing a hold of your hips and slamming himself into you. Alucard saw your eyes roll to the back of your head, slowly becoming cockdrunk off Trevor’s dick. It made his dick twitch in Sypha’s mouth, a glob of precum oozing out onto her tongue. Your mouth lolled open, tongue hanging as you drooled onto the sheets below you. You couldn’t form any words, just babbling away at how good Trevor was making you feel. Trevor pulled out, only to shove himself into Sypha turning her to mush the same way. You’d both give Alucard head, turning messy and sloppy each time Trevor would take turns with the two of you. Then Trevor surprised the dhampir the most.

“You want a turn, pretty boy?”

-

“Trevor you fuck him so good.” You gasped, rubbing your pussy along Sypha’s, fingers in her mouth making her a mess underneath you. On the side of you was Alucard already crying at the feeling of his tight hole being pummeled by the Belmont. He was so full, cock feeling so much better than he could have ever imagined. Alucard reached for you, grabbing at your free hand. You held his hand, looking over to your husband with your eyes hazy, cunt sopping wet against the speaker’s. “Look at you honey, so fucking handsome.” You heard him moan, tip wet with his arousal. Sypha’s muffled voice was warped around your fingers, letting up enough to let her speak. “Wanna ride him, please.” Her eyes were pleading, and who were you to deny her?

She scrambled from below you, hovering over his cock and lining herself up, Trevor slowing down enough to let her slowly fill herself up with Alucard’s cock. She clawed at his chest, feeling so full and having him so deep was making her pant. Trevor sped up once again, wrapping a hand around Sypha to tease and grope her tits. He kissed at her back and shoulders, biting every now and again with pleasure. Alucard was dizzy, pleasure completely overwhelming him, but he knew something was still missing-you were still missing. With hazy eyes he looked at you, not even giving you a moment before he pulled you onto his face and ate you like a man starved. You cried out, feeling his tongue to deep curling into your cunt as you rode him. Each moan he let out vibrated against your pussy, pushing you closer to the edge. Sypha was just about as far along as you were, bouncing on Alucard’s dick with fervor. You reached down to rub at her swollen clit, occasionally pinching the bundle of nerves. She cried out, trembling and clenching on Alucard, riding her orgasm on his cock until she tapped: climbing off him to catch her breath. Alucard was losing his mind, so close to cumming. You could feel his desperation in the way he ate you out. Leaning down you took his cock into your mouth, taste Sypha’s cum on his length. Alucard held out as long as he could, waiting to feel you clench around his tongue and tasting your cum, gushing out over his tongue and face, before moaning and bucking into your tongue releasing his sticky fluids into your mouth and deep down your throat. Trevor took all the sights in, dick twitching inside Alucard before he pulled out, pulling Sypha down and jerking onto her tongue. “Share with our pretty boy, beautiful.” He panted, having Sypha crawling up to Alucard’s mouth and sharing Trevor’s cum with him after you moved away. 

The four of you collapsed onto the large bed, nothing but pants and huffs heard in the air, thick with the scent of sex. “So...this is what you two freaks get up to?” Trevor teased, feeling a pillow lunged at him muffling his face. 

“I liked it better when you didn’t talk, Belmont.”

[milkteamoon]

The first and only girl Martin goes out with is openly bisexual.

He doesn't know if she counts, if he's being honest — it wasn't a crush, he knows that, and years down the line, when he thinks back to it, he can't remember them ever having a proper conversation about the whole status of their single-night relationship. He knows she had short hair, and sat in front of him in math class, and needed a date to the fall semi-formal so she'd asked if he was busy that weekend, and he'd said no, and then she'd asked if she could borrow a pen, and he'd said yes. He couldn't remember her name if he tried.

He does remember the pink and blue bracelet on her wrist that she'd worn to the event itself, and then to get ice cream after, where he'd sat on the curb of some old parking lot at the edge of town with her and her friends and her friends' boyfriends and her friends' boyfriends' friends, none of which were his friends, because Martin didn't have many of those. Except maybe the girl whose name he couldn't remember. Though he's not sure if maybe-probably-not-girlfriends count as friends too when you're in high school.

"D'you like it?" she'd asked once she'd noticed him staring, holding up her wrist and not seeming to care as ice cream dribbled down her spoon and fingers.

"It's nice," Martin had said, because he's nothing if not honest. "Did you make it?"

She'd nodded. "It's a bi flag," she'd explained. "I'm bisexual."

"Oh," Martin had said.

"You know what that is, right?" she had asked. "Like, when you like boys and girls?"

"I know," Martin had said, even if it had maybe slipped his memory until she'd brought it up. "That's cool."

And then she'd nodded, and ate her ice cream, and Martin had taken her home with as little a fanfare as he had picked her up earlier that evening. And then winter break had rolled around, and she'd been put in another class the following semester, and then life and bills had finally caught up with him and there wouldn't be another semester after that. He'd never seen her again, so he'd never got a chance to ask. Never got a chance to choke down that knot in his throat when he'd left her house that evening, unable to get the words out.

He doesn't remember her name anymore, but he does remember the jealous ache he'd felt at her certainty.

Martin's first boyfriend is definitely gay.

That's how they meet each other, really — in a gay bar, where Martin has met plenty of other men (testing the waters, he's been telling himself; no harm in a little exploration) and gone home with them, except this one asks for his number afterward, and this one calls him back, and this one actually seems to want to go out for drinks the next week, and the week after that, and before Martin knows it he's quite certain that he's dating this man. It's wonderful, whirlwind of an experience. It's exhilarating.

It's bloody terrifying.

And it's not being with a man that sets his anxiety on edge. Martin...Martin likes men. That's definitely a part of his identity that he's been able to sort out, over the years. Martin likes men, and he likes dating men, and he likes having sex with men, and he'd probably even marry a man, if he had the chance, if that's where one of these loose and languid relationships end up.

It's just—

It's just that—

It's just that Martin always seems to be the odd one out in these groups. It's just that when Martin meets up with his boyfriend's friends at the bar, when they're all laughing and sharing jokes and clinking their drinks together in some toast that Martin had missed the dedication to, they all just...get it somehow. They know who they are. They all have some special word for themselves that fits them like a tailored suit: Jacklyn is a butch lesbian, and Lee is trans, and Tom is a bear, and Jordan is gay and genderqueer and Collin is a drag performer and—

He's a few drinks in, to put it lightly, when he leans over to his definitely-boyfriend and asks him how he knew he was gay.

"How did I know?" he echoes, taking a sip from his fizzy drink. "Easy, I liked men." And then he laughs like Martin has just told a funny joke, and maybe he has and doesn't realize it, so he tries to laugh along. Tries to ignore the ache in his chest.

Martin wishes it were that simple. And when the two of them break up, Martin wishes that he ached just as badly over the relationship too.

Tim and Sasha are bi. Well, no, Tim is bi, and Sasha is—

"Pansexual," Sasha says through a mouthful of reheated spaghetti. She holds a finger up as she chews, swallows, and then adds, "Well, I mean. It's like the same genus, I guess."

"Like a leopard and a cheetah," Tim chimes in, leaning over to put an arm around her shoulders. She puts a hand against the side of his face to put some space between them, knocking his glasses askew.

"Leopards and cheetahs are different genuses," she tells him. "You're thinking of leopards and jaguars."

"Nuh uh."

"Uh huh."

"Nuh uh nuh uh—"

"Uh huh uh huh uh huh—"

And it's—

He likes Tim and Sasha. They're easy to exist around. They don't make him feel like he's not welcome at the end of the lunch table, or like he has to be anything more than simply himself in their presence. Call it bonding over the shared trauma of all being trapped down here together. Tim's jokes about Jon never letting them see the sun are starting to feel less like jokes these days, and more like statements of fact.

Then Tim leans over, seating his chin in his knuckles, and says, "So, Martin, you going to pride this year?"

And then all of those nice, floaty feelings suddenly come crashing out of solution and dropping down into the pit of his stomach. It must show on his face, because Tim's smile falls as he backpedals.

"O-or not!" he says, holding his hands up peaceably. "I mean— geez, sorry, I usually think I'm pretty good at noticing these things, but if you're not—"

"What? Oh, no no, you're fine, I'm definitely—" There's something on the tip of Martin's tongue that he can't put a word to, hasn't been able to put a word to for a long time. "...not straight. Er, I— I like...guys, at least...?"

A smile curls across Tim's face — amused, but not cruel. "Hey, that's at least one thing we've got in common," he says and holds up his fist for a bump. The spark of anxiety hasn't quite fizzled away, but it's pushed far enough down that Martin feels he can humor him.

To his equal relief and horror, Jon strolls into the room not a minute later and sticks himself firmly in the crosshairs of Tim's sights.

"Boss-man," he greets.

"Tim," Jon greets back, neutrally. He strolls over to the kitchenette, digging out a tea bag out of the cabinet.

"Are you going to pride this year?"

Martin chokes on his drink.

"No," Jon says, retrieving a tea bag and filling his mug as if Tim had simply asked him about the weather.

"C'mon," Tim purrs. He reaches over and gives Jon a tug by his belt loops. "You're just gonna sit at home all weekend and leave us to have all the fun?"

"I don't particularly find crowds 'fun,'" Jon retorts, batting away his hand. He picks up his mug. "You'll have to suffer without me."

"How will we ever go on," Tim laments.

"You'll manage," Jon says, then promptly retreats to his office.

Martin simply sits there with his mouth hanging open, only daring to speak once he hears the final click of the door pulled shut. "...Jon...?"

Tim looks over to him, eyebrow quirked. "What?"

"Jon."

"Oh." A smirk tugs at the corner of Tim's lips. "You didn't know?"

"Wh— no!" It's not even that Martin has ever really assumed that Jon is straight. It's just that, out of people in the office to be open about their sexualities, there's Tim and Sasha, and then there's Jon. It's just— it's Jon. "Did he tell you that?"

Tim shoots a look to Sasha. "Well, no," he admits, "but you know how it is, you work with someone long enough and you just sort of...get a vibe, yeah?"

Sasha nods at this assessment. "Plus the fact that he did agree to go on a date with David that one time."

"Oh god, haha! I forgot about that."

"He's gay, right?" Sasha says, looking to Tim.

"I'm pretty sure he mentioned an ex-girlfriend once," Tim notes, poking his fork into his salad. "Bi, maybe...? I'm going to go with bi."

"Could also be pan," Sasha notes.

Tim thinks on this for a moment. "Mm, no, definitely bi I think. My bi-dey senses are tingling. Sorry Sash," he concludes, earning him a light kick to the shin from Sasha at the pun. He shoves a forkful of salad in his mouth before redirecting his attention back to Martin. "So, Martin. Pride, yay or nay?"

"Uh—" Martin blinks, viscerally aware of himself once more. He's not sure how to put I've never really thought about going into so many words that doesn't make him sound incredibly lame or formerly catholic, so in the end he decides on a redirect. He clears his throat. "I'm...not sure? Haven't really decided."

"That's fine," Tim says with a half shrug. "Though we'll be there, so if you do end up going, just text us and we'll meet up, yeah?"

There's a little plant inside Martin, something green and budding, but never able to bloom — always pruned too early, or watered too late, or bitten off by the frost. But some days, he thinks about opening the curtains and letting in the sun. Some days, he thinks about letting it bloom, finally, fully—

"Yeah," Martin says softly, looking up from his open palms. "Yeah, that'd...that'd be good."

And despite himself, he smiles.

Martin is—

Martin is quite certain he has never been sweatier in his life.

It's a wonderful time. It's bright. It's beautiful. He's seen so many colors and grins and glitter on more people than he can count today. People holding hands and people kissing and people dressed in outfits he can't even begin to describe, genders he can't even begin to put names to, flags he can't even begin to guess the meaning of. His heart feels so big in his chest he could die, pushing on the bars of his rib cage with each resounding thu-thump, and it's wonderful, wonderful, wonderful—

(And so very isolating. So very lonely when he feels like he's not meant to be there, like he wasn't invited, like he's invading this space carved out in neat rows of labels that he can't even straddle properly to get in line. He doesn't— he can't—)

Martin finds a moment of shade just as he feels he's teetering on the edge of heat exhaustion. He stumbles under the awning, smearing the sweat and residual glitter out of his eyes as he leans his head back against the wall. Music hums from the street over, voices carry on the warm summer air. He really needs to find something to drink, so he can appreciate it more instead of focusing on the way his shirt clings to his skin. He really should find Tim and Sasha, before they get off into any trouble.

Someone lets out a huff next to him as they lean back against the wall, and Martin peels open an eye to look.

And then both his eyes snap open at once, double taking at the man standing next to him. He doesn't seem to notice him at first, too focused on fanning himself with some pamplet he'd snagged along the way, but then his gaze shifts sideways, and the pinched expression smooths out into one of blank bewilderment.

Jon blinks, wide eyed. "Martin."

Okay, well that at least solves the issue of whether or not Martin is supposed to be pretending not to know him or not. He clears his throat, trying to smile. "Jon...h-hi."

It's not even the fact that— okay, well, yes, seeing Jon at a queer event is pretty weird, but seeing Jon outside of work, in jeans no less, is certainly not helping the sensation that Martin might very well be hallucinating this interaction. He looks him up to his thick-lensed glasses, down to his plain sneakers that have seen better days, and even pinches himself for good measure. Jon doesn't move. Martin isn't sure that he himself would be able to move either, even if he wanted to.

Then Jon's brow furrows, and he looks around. "Are Tim and Sasha around...?"

"Oh, n-no, they went off," Martin gestures vaguely in the direction he'd last seen them, "somewhere."

"Ah."

"Mm."

"Right."

"...What...are you doing here, exactly?" Martin finally asks in some burst of unsourced courage.

Jon's winces, red-handed. Not that Martin would ever say anything to Tim or Sasha about their boss going to pride without them on his own time — it's honestly none of his business — but he also knows that if the two of them suspect something is up, they'll never let either of them live it down.

Jon sighs, shoulders drooping. "I...an old friend, she— she didn't wish to come alone this year, and apparently I'm the only other queer she knows that doesn't enjoy getting plastered off my arse at these types of events, so—" Jon shrugs lightly.

There's something about the way Jon says it, the only other queer, that leaves a funny, prickling sensation in the center of Martin's chest, and it's not just the heat giving him a rash. It's just...it's nice. It's nice the way he says it, all casual like he's just giving Martin another report to follow up.

Jon pushes the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead, giving Martin a sideways glance up and down. He redirects, "You know, I would have thought you'd be more, er..."

"More...?"

"...Well, dressed up, I suppose?" He gestures to Martin's outfit — a pair of khaki shorts with pockets stuffed to the brim in emergency snacks, a green t-shirt with the local football team logo, an old pair of sneakers he really needs to replace — in a vague enough gesture to slip just under the line of insulting, but still enough to make Martin feel horribly seen. Granted, Jon isn't much better in his plain blue polo, but the fact of Jon being in jeans at all is currently eclipsing the fact that he's a tad underdressed for the event.

But—

But it's not that Martin doesn't want to. It's not that Martin doesn't want to be a part of this moment, this moment, this microcosm in the middle of London of so many people like him. It's something he's always wanted. Something he's always dreamed of, something he'd thought about all the way back in his high school bedroom when he'd had all these feelings knotted up in his chest that he couldn't put a word to, still can't put a word to, doesn't know how to put a word to even though it's right there in front of him if he could just stretch out his fingers—

"I thought about it," he admits with a shrug. Tim and Sasha were each dressed in a blinding shower of color and glitter, and he knows they'd never make him feel out of place. "It's just...there's too many—" He stops, takes a deep breath, and tries to ignore the thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. "There's too many words, I guess?"

Jon pauses his lazy fanning, looking up at him. "Too many words?" he parrots.

Martin wets his lips. "Like— like— like, everyone has a word for themselves, y'know? They have a flag, they have a group, they have— have people that they can relate to, and then you feel like you find something that almost right, but it's not perfect, and you— you—"

And you don't fit in, Martin doesn't say, because the rushing stream of words has suddenly stopped up in his throat, choking him. And you definitely aren't straight, but you aren't queer like everyone else is. You aren't queer in the right way.

Jon looks at him for a considerable moment, and suddenly Martin is all too aware of his body, his bones, his sweat, the itchy prickling of his skin—

Jon sighs as he gives him a half shrug. "So don't be anything."

The music from the street over lulls into a faint hum.

"What?" Martin says.

"So don't be anything," Jon repeats, enunciating as if he thinks that Martin misheard him. He frowns as he chooses his next words. "I'm not...it's...I..."

Martin waits quietly.

"I..." Jon says, "I guess when I was just starting to— to figure things out, I was certain I was gay. And then I went to uni and I had...a multitude of other things to address, and then for a bit I was...straight? I guess? And that was a whole thing, and then I was bi, and— well, I guess I'm technically still bi, but it's not...not exactly correct—" He frowns, looking up at him. "I guess...it just doesn't really matter to me? You don't...have to be anything."

Martin opens his mouth. He closes it. "But—" he says, tongue feeling thick in his mouth, "but—"

But then I have to be me, he doesn't say, even if the words are trying to push out past his teeth. But then the only thing I can be is me.

"...But that's scary," Martin says without meaning to, only hearing the words as they pass through his own lips. His eyes blow wide as he looks down at Jon (at his boss), and knows the simmering heat flushing down to his chest has nothing to do with the weather.

Jon stares at him for a quiet, considerate. And then he turns his head away and lets out a very undignified snort.

Martin feels his world tip onto its side.

It had to be a snort. It can only be a snort, even if Jon doesn't snort because Jon doesn't laugh, and Jon doesn't laugh because Jon doesn't smile, and Jon doesn't smile because Jon is typically too busy snapping at him over some stupid mistake he's made for the umpteenth time—

Jon looks up at him again, and he's downright grinning. Martin is quite certain he needs to be doused over the head with a bucket of ice water, or pinched hard enough to draw blood, or sent off to the hospital to get his head checked out because what the fuck. What the fuck.

"As my grandmother was so fond of reminding me, 'if it weren't scary, everyone would be doing it,'" Jon says finally, peeling off his glasses to wipe the sweat from the lenses onto his shirt. He places them back on his nose, then pushes himself up. "You should find Tim and Sasha," he says. "And I should find Georgie before I get left here. Again."

"Uh," Martin says, still trying to mentally recover from the fact that Jon smiled at him, and now everything feels like its been knocked into an alternate universe slightly to the left. His head feels weird. His chest feels weird. "Right."

"There's a—" Jon points a thumb behind himself, "a place we can cut through, if you want to—"

"Oh. Oh, yeah! Yeah, lead— lead the way."

It's not perfect, Martin thinks.

It's not perfect, but it's close. It's close when they step out of the alley back onto that crowded street, when the colors all bleed into a mess of a million different rainbows as far as the eye can see. It's close when they both get sprayed with glitter, Jon scowling and swearing as he tries to get it off himself and sending Martin laughing so hard that his sides ache. It's close even with the heat, even with the noise, even with the shouting because there's laughter in between laughter in between laughter again—

"Would you like a button?" a girl with green hair asks as she sits behind a table of every flag Martin has ever seen and then some. He takes a moment to look over each one carefully. Jon wanders up beside him, looks them through, and carefully selects a pink, purple, and blue one, to which he silently deposits in his pocket.

Martin picks up a plain rainbow one, considers it, and then pins it to the left side of his shirt.

It's not perfect, he thinks, but it's close enough.

[rottingcheng]

ok jiang cheng renaissance time. back to basics. hard-edged steel-grade-dignified turning-up-his-nose jiang cheng who spits venom takes names and doesn't care to be outwardly soft because it was never his strong point anyway. a jiang cheng who's gruff and starts fights with anyone who'll try him, yes partly because he's standing up for his sect but at this point it's mostly because he just likes to yell and incite fear and he doesn't need a noble reason to be a bitch he can just be an argumentative asshole because he wants to be and he's got the flourishing sect to back him up on it now.

i want him to be in the wrong sometimes and never sorry for it. i want him to use a nasty tone and not give a fuck and not change himself because he's already succeeding as the person he is and hell if he'd lower his head to anyone for old luxuries like closure. time was his closure. he's done, he's mean, he's allowed to be. he was born full of barbs, grew up full of barbs, and flourished full of barbs. if he feels fulfilled and satisfied as he is, why should he ever change? he can fix his problems in his own way. he can find peace without sanding down his edges. he likes his edges. so what? so what? who says his happiness is wrong just because he doesn't fold and become sweet and gentle upon finding it? he'll do whatever he wants and that might include making you cry and never apologising for it. so what? so what? that's jiang-zongzhu to you.

[mommysmilk]

Word for ren drabbles: ruined

🔪Ren Hana x Reader🔪

”You’re fucking crazy! Don’t touch me!” You screamed while trying to kick your captor. He jumped out of the way, growling, his ears flattening against his head.

”It’s been weeks. I’ve given you my love, fed you and treated your wounds, what more could you want?” the fox sighed, agitated.

”The wounds you inflicted on me, you psycho! I don’t want your fucking lov-” ”DON’T SAY THAT!” He screamed and pressed the button that sent shocks through your whole body. You screamed in pain, slumping on the floor. ”You were supposed to love me! I just wanted to feel loved. He loved me.”

”I’ll never love you. I’d rather die than love someone like you.” You coughed out, still on floor.

”Shut up. SHUT UP! YOU’VE RUINED IT. YOU RUINED IT ALL.” Ren started pacing around while tugging at his hair. ”You’d rather die than love me.” He muttered under his breath. ”Well fine then.”

You flinched as he took off into the direction of the kitchen. He was back in less than a minute, now holding a knife. Your eyes widened in fear. ”What are you doing? Don’t come any closer!” You started panicking. His face was completely different, teeth bared and eyes narrowed into slits. You almost missed the look of ”adoration” he had on before.

”I’m just giving you what you want.” He charged at you and you tried to scramble back but you weren’t quick enough. The knife stabbed straight into your heart.

The last thing you heard was the slick sound of the knife pulling out of your chest.

[alexluminosbucket]

another feesh au for dca!! yum yum With a fic that is to be coming soon "H20 Please No More Water"

[foldingfittedsheets]

Does anyone want to hear how I ended up using soap made of my betrothed's exes breast milk?

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

real talk having the 2nd worst new years eve yet 🤢🤢🤢 (throat infection, twisted neck, banged-about-foot, ego AND the rest o' me all bruised like misjuggled peaches 🍑🍑🍑)

im bent outa shape and suspectin the universe owes me 8 buck if anyone wannsa chip in

[lycheebloom]

Great! If you don't mind, may I request for some Yan shadow milk cookie with an amnesic reader?

I had the idea of reader already knowing his pre corruption or past self (like the last fic) but when the corruption began and he was sealed away reader asked the witches for a wish of erase all the memories of him to take all the emotional pain away

And when they cross paths once again reader would just not remember him or have blurry memories about them two together

I hope it's not an odd scenario if you want to add or change it a little it's totally ok ♡

Thank you so much! Your last fic was awesome ☆

Have a nice day 💛

yes of course !! and thank you , i’m glad you like my work ! *\(^o^)/*

abstraction : short scenario of yan. shadow milk cookie w/ amnesiac reader !

tw : yandere shadow milk cookie, light psychological manipulation, obsessive & possessive behavior

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ After your captor had been cast away, you were almost at a loss for what to do. The image of him had been seared into your mind, plaguing you into sleepless nights—you swore the same familiar shade of blue imprinted itself into your very vision no matter how hard you tried to rid all trace of his presence.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ So you resorted to the only option that would grant you even just a sliver of peace in the onslaught of what had become the reality of your life.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ With a somber heart, you came before the Witches, pleading with them desperately to wipe away your memories revolving around him—no matter how insignificant and brief.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ And so it was done.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ The massive gap within your memories was filled with a placeholder, memories of the war caused by the Beasts replacing them—with the image of him only being a muddled and indistinguishable blur at best, yet even that eroded away with time.

——————————

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ Upon his first taste of freedom after what could only be described as a millennia—Shadow Milk Cookie was brimming with glee at the prospect of meeting you once more.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ He was quick to isolate you from the rest of your peers—But oh, could you really blame him? He hadn’t seen you in so long!

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ Yet, his excitement slightly faltered upon a daunting realization. You didn’t retain even a semblance of the moments he had so lovingly built with you.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ At first, Shadow Milk Cookie thought you were merely messing with him, a meaningless yet amusing attempt to drive him away—but upon digging into your memories, the truth unraveled itself before him.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ Well, that was disappointing.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ But not to worry!~☆

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ He'd be a bad lover to give up on you over something as miniscule as this—No, no, something like this was merely a small hindrance in your destiny with him. A small thorn in his path.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ He’ll gladly take up the role as the ever-so benevolent beholder of your shared history, whilst crafting new memories now that he finally has you back in his grasp.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ For what was the need for rush? In this rift of space, he’s the one in control. Everything bended to his will, and you would be no exception.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ For now, he’d play into the act of a hurt, and misguided “evil” cookie that loved you to the ends of Earthbread! Centuries of this.. unguided mindset had taken a deep root into your very essence, staining your perspective on him as a whole! Truly tragic…

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ Alas, it couldn’t be helped! Still, he was the Beast of Deceit. The might of those flimsy Ancients paled in comparison to even just a quarter of the deeds he could perform, much less the one with a puritan savior-complex. Shadow Milk Cookie grimaced at the thought, before the expression disappeared just as fast—shaping itself back into a friendly smile towards your nervous and uncertain form. He could fix that in no time.

˗ˋˏ꒰ঌ So as one of the many gestures in proving his eternal adoration for you, he’ll start with happily washing away the impurities they’ve casted onto you.

[legendary-cookies]

I've been working on this on and off for like a long time and honestly I kinda hate it now, but this is like a revamp of these but with the Beasts too lmao

This also has a headcanon I have of if the Legends had virtues like the Ancients and Beasts

Also yes I'm aware Fire and Moon might fit more if they switched but I have lore reasons leave me alone

[milkywaydrabbles]

Rindou loves fingering you. 

He loves how creamy you get his fingers, how two fingers is enough to throw you over the edge. He loves how he can control your body just how he wants it, how he can edge you over and over again without having to break a sweat, just with his hands. He loves how, if he tries a little harder, he can have you squirting all over him, juicy pussy making a mess, he loves how sloppy he can get you. Haitani Rindou’s a nasty man when it comes to you, he can keep you underneath him forever. Rindou will finger you whenever he can--in his car, out at a club or bar, when he’s on the phone, hell even when you’re on the phone. (He thinks his favorite is whenever you have to keep it together, pretend like he’s not finger fucking you in public.) He loves the sticky feeling of you cumming on his fingers, how you suck them back in, how when he spreads them out your cum creates a webbing between them. He really, really, can’t get enough of it. Sometimes he prefers that over fucking you with his dick. It’s rare, but sometimes, he’ll do it. Just fuck you over and over again on his fingers until he has you crying to stop--and then keep going. 

Tonight, he thinks is one of those nights. 

Rindou’s had you under him already for the last hour, hearing how nasty your cunt is, squelching and creaming around him. You're sniffling, tears streaming down your face as he pulls another orgasm out of you just with his fingers. "Baby, you look so fucking good just like this." He coos, pulling his fingers out with a squish, and laughs. "Love fucking you on my fingers baby, n so fucking juicy" he's talking to himself, enamored with looking between your legs and seeing the mess you've made for him. Rindou is dipping his hand between your thighs again, pushing the same two fingers back into your wet heat and adding a third, and you whine. "R-Rin, so full, fuck." Your face is hot, body covered in a sheen of sweat and all you can do is lay there with your legs open and take it. When he's in one of his moods he won't stop until he gets it out of his system, which means sometimes you end up sweaty and sticky and overstimulated for hours under him. "You can take my fingers, right pretty girl?" And you nod, squirming as he slowly pumps his three fingers into your sloppy cunt, seeing your cum oozing around his hand and pooling in his palm. 

He's hard, painfully so, but he can't seem to care about his own hard on when he's got his little baby crying like that. His free hand wipes away a stray tear, while the other starts fucking into you quicker, curling his fingers up to hit that gummy part of your walls that has you crying even more. "Rin, m'so close, please, please—!" You're begging, pleading with him to let you cum. You think it's too much, especially with each last one he pulls out of you. But he proves you wrong over and over again with each buildup and you crave it each time. It feels like you can't breathe without him letting you catch that high again. Stronger than any drug he could have given you. "Give it to me baby, come on you can do it." He works you through it, hitting exactly where you need it each time he fucks up into you. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, it has you crying and shaking and grabbing at Rindou's arm like some saving grace. Electricity shot through your veins, your nerves on fire as he ripped another orgasm out of you. You babbled away as your juices covered him again, and he could only smile as you shook. "Good girl, such a good girl" he would praise, leaning down while still stuffing your cunt full of him and kissing your face, smothering you in affection to distract you with how overstimulated you're feeling. "My pretty baby is doing so well" Rindou's fingers stilled for a moment, and taking the time to make sure you were cognisant enough to give a real answer when he looked into your eyes and asked: "do you trust me?" You sniffed and nodded, but he simply clicked his tongue. " I need you to answer with words baby. Do you trust me?" It almost concerned you how serious he was being knuckles deep in your pussy, but you answered anyways. "Yes Rindou, I trust you." Your voice was shaky, and hoarse with how much you've been crying, but you trusted him with your life.

Slowly, Rindou added a fourth finger into your abused cunt, and it felt like your lungs were stuffed full of bricks. You choked back a sob, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you bit your lower lip to stop yourself from screaming. It was overwhelming, feeling 4 of his fingers stuffing into your now swollen pussy, curving into themselves to make a point inside of you. Rindou twisted his wrist, hearing the messy sounds coming from your hole, seeing you dripping and oozing onto the mattress below you. He stayed a slow pace, feeling all the small bumps and ridges of your pussy up against his fingers. "It's okay baby, I got you, I got you" he'd whisper, repeating himself over and over while you caught your breath. You never stopped trembling from your last orgasm, teetering on the edge with each lazy thrust Rindou gave. You couldn't speak, broken phrases and words spilling from your mouth as he quickened his pace. Rindou's breathing got heavy, pupils dilated and zeroed in on your cunt sucking in his fingers with each thrust. You were doing so well for him, while he played with you, stretched you out the most he's ever done. He kept whispering so nicely to you, how good you were, how pretty you were with his fingers stuffed inside your sloppy pussy, how much he loved you. Your head was spinning, you were fucked dumb already and Rindou was making it so hard to even think for just a second. "Fuuuck, baby—making such a mess on my fingers, love you so much, you got another one in you right?" You were panting, nodding furiously with your eyes locked onto his. He didn't even need to curl his fingers with how well he was hitting all the right spots—pumping harder in and out and in and out of your mess of a hole, and before you could wrap your head around it you were squirting, covering him in your essence. You heard a laugh, though your eyes were unable to focus at all. "Fuck, baby! So fucking pretty when I got you squirting like that." It sounded like a tease, but you knew he meant it. He told you all the time, he loved how your face would scrunch up during the build up, and letting go with pretty pouty lips making an o shape, tears falling at the corners of your mouth. (He even recorded it once, so you can see how pretty you looked.) 

"I got you baby, it's okay, you can let go." He whispered, closer to your face now than he was just moments before—kissing your forehead as you practically convulsed in his arms. His fingers were pulled out, along with your cum that dripped from his digits. A trembling hand latched on to his shirt, unable to control yourself in this moment and just cried. Giving yourself to him fully was such an intimate experience for you, that you couldn't help but sob in his arms afterwards. He'd hush you with gentle words, smoothing over your hair with his clean hand and kissing your temple. "You did so good for me, pretty girl—I love you." You stutter out that you love him too and latch onto him more.

He’ll take good care of you after that.

[milkteamoon]

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Tags: @jonmartinweek day 6

And he could leave it here. He could. He could smoke his cigarette in silence until he went back inside and returned to the whole mess of files he’d been attempting to organize spread across his office floor, and Martin wouldn’t push it. That’s something he likes about Martin. That’s a reason why he thinks he and Martin get along easier than a lot of other people he knows. Jon clears his throat. “Do you ever— do people ever make assumptions about you based on some very limited piece of information, and they’re not exactly wrong but they’re also not not wrong, but you can’t correct them because you aren’t even supposed to know about this information in the first place?”

If anyone asks, Jon doesn't smoke.

[rottingcheng]

in my chengxian feels ruminating on how they precariously complete each other. criticism on jc for not doing more to help the wens (which i personally don't agree w) and criticism on wwx for not having better political self-awareness (which i am on the fence about). but i'm thinking of how, to create change within a system, you need both types of people. people who can work within the game and negotiate it, and people who aren't afraid to step up and shake things up, even disastrously. if not for the circumstances (golden core) they might have been an incredibly formidable duo. still, precarious. but something that could make sense. something that could teeter and seesaw and change things so long as they both reigned each other in and loved each other and those they are responsible for.

[mommysmilk]

Strawberry

🍓Fox x Reader🍓

(warning for mention of throwing up and general wound and scar talk yall know the drill)

”Wash these for me, darling. Don’t get your bandages wet.” He hands you a container of strawberries, your favorite kind. They’re red throughout and their sweet aroma is filling the kitchen. You’re tempted to reach out and pop one of the berries in your mouth, but his voice interrupts your thoughts. ”We don’t have all day, pet. You’re wasting water.”

You quickly apologize and start rinsing the strawberries under the running water, being careful to avoid the fresh bandages. Some blood is already seeping through the gauze, the cuts too deep to fully stop the bleeding. You’ve learned to love the scars he leaves on your body, even requesting for him to not stitch all of them up.

”I didn’t go too hard on you today right? You lost a lot of blood and still seem a bit out of it, sweetie.”

You grin down at him, finding his concern cute but unneccessary. ”You’ve done worse, Foxie~. Remember the time you made me eat your chicken hearts? I honestly thought you were going to kill me.”

He grimaces in disgust, ”Please don’t remind me, I can still smell the spot you threw up on.”

”I’m glad you started to give me strawberries for our movie nights after that.” You laugh while hopping down from the kitchen counter. You get a little dizzy from the sudden movement and have to lean on the countertop for support. He’s at your side immediately, taking the container of strawberries from your hand and helping you to the living room. You sigh in relief as you crash down on the couch. As much as you love your streams together, they’re still very taxing on your body.

After choosing a cd titled ”Guillotine” he inserts it into the player. It is one of your favorite streams of his. He sits down next to you, his tail curling around you while he starts the "movie". His hand caresses the heart shaped scar on your back and you snuggle closer to him when he starts feeding you the strawberries.

[alexluminosbucket]

Yoooo? ommggg? a real ao3 post?

the chapter i hope i can finish by the end of the week, but the plan is to do the minimum of 10k a chapter, so my update schedule may be wonky but it will be worth the wait!

[foldingfittedsheets]

As a USian I’ve heard many stereotypes about Canadians over the years. Super friendly has always been the most prevalent, and the runner up usually involved moose or mounties. When I lived right up at the border for a few years I discovered the two weirdest possible Canadian stereotypes.

The first was that Canadians would drive down to my mattress store, buy a Tempurpedic pillow, then return it a month later. Like. Any time we sold just a pillow it was a Canadian and 90% were returned a month later. I cannot and will never be able to explain this phenomenon.

But the second weird Canadian thing was The Milk. My roommates and I would shop at Costco and if we had the misfortune to go on a weekend we would just see Costco sized shopping carts full of milk. And Costco doesn’t have regular gallons! They have those massive two gallon jugs.

We’d see carts entirely filled with jugs of milk and every person loading up a pallet of milk into their car had Canadian plates. Even mild Canadians would have at least three of those milk jugs.

It was a subject for wild speculation. Did they bathe in the milk? Was one Canadian volunteered as tribute to bring back milk to their whole city block? Did they not have cows in Canada? Was there a Canadian black market for shitty US milk?

The local Costco had to literally expand their fridge section to accommodate the milk runs that would happen. It was super weird. But now I just sound like a crazy person when I make a Canadian milk joke because only people in that city knew about this hyper specific trend.

[jellywalker-apocalypse]

HOW DOES A JESTER DREAM ?