#salvaging from twitter

[sonofrose]

https://twitter.com/sorenjj/status/1770875635579203786

(Read right to left)

Salvaging from twitter again.

[hydrasaura]

[venacoeurva]

I’ve noticed Pillowfort has a dropdown in settings, does it have sideblogs or is that something they’re anticipating? If I don’t need to make another account for saucier purposes, it’d be great but if it’s an option for free users idk how to add one.

[isabelpsaroslunnen]

[Original date: 9 June 2020]

I've been going over the draft of my novel, and I'd completely forgotten that the most purely good-natured character in the book is a rhetoric teacher.

[4/20/2023 note: I'm not in rhetoric myself—I'm in literature and my undergrad minors were in psychology and creative writing—but I do respect a number of people who are.]

[fourspiceblend]

Every time the muskrat implements another self-sabotaging feature for the bird site people start going "oommmg where will we go now :( every single platform is doomed" and I both love and hate how everyone seems to think Tumblr is dead because it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy

[lemonlover1110]

𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: The rain ruining his plans might have been the best possible luck.

Warnings: MDNI, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“It’s raining.” You point out, face nearly pressing on the window as you stare outside. It was going to happen sooner or later, the dark clouds had been adorning the sky the entire day, yet the day went dry.

“Raining?” Zayne sounds surprised, as if he hadn’t been staring at the same dark sky a couple of hours earlier. He stands up, walking over to look out the window as if he didn’t trust your word. You swear you hear him sigh when he confirms that it’s indeed raining.

“Is everything okay? Is our date still on?” You look at him, worried about his reaction. He wants to say that the rain will be over in ten minutes and the plans are still on… But it doesn’t look like it’ll stop any time soon. 

“The rain is going to make things more… Difficult.” Zayne answers, not wanting to give up on the date idea just yet. There is no hope though, you can’t go stargazing when it’s storming out. You stare at him, trying to study the look on his face– A task that’s difficult since the man does a great job at suppressing any trace of emotion. “Maybe we have to change a couple of things.”

From now on he will leave the dates to you and only you, because the one time he plans something it’s ruined before it even begins. It’s what he gets for trying to be romantic, there’s a reason you’re the one that usually takes on the role. 

“Like?” You ask, and he isn’t sure how to answer. He already had everything planned out, and he put his all to the specific date so now his brain is empty. The lack of answer makes you chuckle. “So we’re staying in?”

“Unless I get a reservation in time.” Zayne reaches for his phone to look up restaurants nearby, trying to salvage the night but you snatch the device from his hands. He raises his brows, wondering what you have in mind.

“Let’s stay in. We can cook something, play a couple of games… Other stuff.” You respond, and Zayne fights back a smile. It’s great to have someone pick up his slack. “I found this new recipe that I’ve been dying to try.”

“Tell me what you need, and I’m on it.” He says, and you can’t help but smile. He’s willing to do anything when you have his attention. 

“I think we have everything, I just need you to chop up some stuff.” You tell him, and he nods in response. He’s not a great cook since he barely has the time or energy to make his own meals, but at the very least he’s great at chopping up stuff. “You can be my sous chef.”

“Yes, ma’am.” There’s a subtle smile on his lips, and it overflows your heart with joy when you notice it. You wonder why he smiles but it’s never unwelcome. Especially from him.

You kiss his cheek before telling him, “Let’s get to work.”

After nearly burning the house down trying the new recipe, you surprisingly end up with a delicious meal on your table. You’re enjoying your meal, too busy stuffing your face to keep up a proper conversation. You don’t need to talk either way, each other’s presence is enough to satisfy any need for interaction. Though Zayne can’t help but comment,

“Surprisingly it doesn’t taste burnt.” Which makes you roll your eyes. He can’t help but bring it up when you told him a million times that you had it under wraps. 

“I told you I had it handled.” You respond. “Or do you not have faith in me, Dr. Zayne?”

“Dr. Zayne?” He raises a brow, and you hum in response. He lets out a low laugh before answering, “I do have faith in you… But I am allowed to draw some conclusions when I see a flame coming from the pan.”

“That wasn’t a flame.” You argue, and he slightly shakes his head.

“Then why did the fire alarm go off?” He points out, and you puff out a breath. You cross your arms, your appetite gone because your boyfriend won’t allow you to have the last word. He never does, and it might be his only defect. He couldn’t be perfect. 

“Next time I’m leaving the cooking to you then.” You pout. He doesn’t want you to feel bad for the light fire, it could happen to anyone plus you were cooking a new recipe.

“You’re a far better cook than I am.” He responds, hoping that it’ll make you feel better. He’s staring at you, trying to decipher what you feel based on the expression on your face. You only stick out your bottom lip, clearly not happy with what he’s said.

What did he say wrong? He said all the right words, you should be gleaming not… Looking disappointed.

“Only because you don’t have time to pick up the skill, if you did then you would be saying something far much different.” You end up telling him, and he takes a moment to look at your face. He’s not sure how to answer. He ends up by telling the truth,

“Probably.” And the moment the word leaves his lips, he realizes he couldn’t have picked a worse answer. You look absolutely mortified, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“Probably? You’re not supposed to say that.” You say, and he gives you a subtle nod. He’s not supposed to tell you the truth then.

“What am I supposed to say then?” He sounds ever so serious, and one swift look at his face makes you think that he is, indeed, serious. 

“No, I doubt it. You’re the best cook ever, dear.” You end up answering, almost laughing at your own response. You see a twinge of a smirk on his face, and you feel like you’ve accomplished something. He lets himself loose around you, and often laughs at any stupid joke that you make, but it still feels rare when you actually see him smile.

“Alright then, so not the truth. Simple.” He answers, and the smirk that comes to his lips doesn’t fill you with pride like it usually does. You puff out a breath and he says, “Repeat the statement.”

“No.” Your answer is firm, therefore he won’t bug you to do it. He’ll drop the subject. 

You two continue eating, and for once he’s the one that makes most of the conversation. He should apologize, he should’ve chosen better words. 

“If it makes you feel better, the one time I plan a date… It starts to rain.” Zayne hopes that by admitting his own failures, he’ll make you feel better. You can’t help but chuckle.

“That doesn’t mean that you suck, it just means that the weather isn’t on your side.” You reassure him, face turning to look out the window. The rain still falls, much harder than before. “Plus I’m enjoying the date. Well, I was before you–”

“In my defense, I was initially complimenting the dish.” He argues, and you can’t help but laugh. A petty argument from a compliment. Though you’d argue that it was backhanded, Zayne isn’t all that great with words– Unless it’s with him coming up with a witty comeback, or of course, explaining medical terminology.

“How about you start cleaning up while I look for a game we can play?” You change the topic as you finish up your meal. Zayne immediately nods, more than willing to fulfill the task that you’ve assigned. He begins to clear the table, and you stand up to look for the games that are hidden away. Games that you’ve gotten to play with him but you’ve never had the time to actually sit down together and figure out.

You look for something that’ll make the night more fun, and also something that you have yet to play… But you still land on an old game. Something that gets both of you competitive. You end up pulling an old game that you’ve played a dozen times with him. A game that makes you want to break up with him, but when you make up it’s a memorable night.

You set up the table with the game, and wait for Zayne to finish up in the kitchen. You’d offer to help if he was doing any other task, but you aren’t going out of your way to clean up, even if it is to help your amazing boyfriend. Maybe you can take a peek at the cards as you wait for him to come back to the table.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Zayne walks back to the table, grabbing the cards that you definitely didn’t take a quick look at, and shuffling them. “Who’s going first?”

“I am. I don’t trust you while playing kitty cards.” You respond, and he hands out two cards. You frown as you look at them, knowing that you’re starting off on a bad foot. Your assist cards can help you make a comeback, so you’re only praying you get lucky with that.

“I should be the one saying that, I saw you look at the cards.” He lets out a low laugh as he gives himself three cards. He takes a seat across from you before commenting, “Given by the look on your face, you didn’t get all that lucky.”

“I’m going to win. Mark my words.”

Though you’re as competitive as you can be, luck simply isn’t on your side. Zayne doesn’t help your case, using every card that he has, against your favor. You glare at him with every move he takes, and he smirks, proud of his every move.

“Can you leave me alone? I barely have any points, there’s no point for you to null my card.” You complain, and Zayne shakes his head. 

“I have to take every possible precaution.” He answers, putting down a card that takes away your turn– And if that isn’t horrible enough, he takes away one of the kitty cards that you’ve put down. “Last time you won, I heard about it for weeks.”

“Last time I lost, you also heard about it for weeks. Matter of fact, we almost broke up.” You point out, and you watch as the corner of his lips turn. He’s trying his best to fight back a smile, and you have to roll your eyes. “And if you keep up with your act, we might actually break up.”

“It’s just a game of kitty cards.” Zayne says, which makes you glare at him. You cross your arms, a scoff leaving your lips. Just a game of kitty cards? The game becomes a very serious matter when you’re as competitive as you are.

“If you don’t take it seriously, then you should let me win.” You claim, and Zayne knows that unless he stops playing, your date will completely go sour. He just fixed matters after his unnecessary comment, he can’t let himself nearly ruin the date once again. He could try to let you win, but at this point there’s no way you can make a comeback. Plus, it’s not satisfactory for him.

“How about we stop.” He suggests, and you know you can’t win.

“Fine.” You answer, a hint of attitude in your voice just so he notes that you’re not happy with him.  

“What were we going to do today?” You ask him, beginning to clear the table. The sight of the unfair game is keeping you mad, so it’s best to clean up. Zayne joins you.

“Stargazing.” He responds, which perks up your eyebrows. Where exactly? “It’s a place not too far from here that gives a perfect view of the city, and I thought it’d be a nice date. I bought a couple of snacks to have a late picnic, but the universe isn’t on my side.”

“That is such a cute date!” You comment, eyes looking out the window to see that the rain has calmed down. “We can still do it.”

Zayne looks in the same direction. It’s not what he pictured, but it’s not a bad idea.

“Just for a minute.” He grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours before he guides you outside. Your anger is long forgotten when you feel his large hand lightly squeezing your own. There’s still some light rain when you exit the place, but you aren’t staying outside for too long so it’s not an issue.

“Look, there’s a full moon.” You immediately point to the sky. The clouds had been hiding the moon all night, and now you finally get a chance to glance at it. “Just look at it, it’s so beautiful.”

“It really is beautiful.” He answers, though his eyes aren’t looking at the moon. His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, as he finally looks up at the sky. Stargazing is a dumb date if you aren’t going to the countryside. In a way, he’s glad his plans were ruined. 

You look back at Zayne, a foolish smile coming to your lips. Stargazing would’ve been nice, even if you don’t get a great sight, laying next to him for a whole night is the type of date that you need. You don’t even need to talk, each other’s presence is more than enough for you to be satisfied.

“Why are you smiling?” He finally looks back at you. It’s not a complaint, he’s overjoyed to find you smiling. He just wonders what’s going on in your mind. Two fingers come up to his face, brushing away the hair that’s on his forehead before you get on your tip-toes to press a kiss on it.

“You are so cute.” You tell him, and he chuckles. Out of all words that you could’ve picked, cute is the one that he least expected.

“Cute?” He responds, and you hum in response. Nevertheless, it’s a compliment so he’ll accept it. He smiles back at you, gaze getting lost into your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, maybe that’s the reason he’s so desperately in love with you. “Cute. I’ll take it.”

“Let’s go inside before you get sick.” There’s a mischievous smile on your lips as you say the words. He’s the one that usually says the phrase, but the tables have turned. Zayne lets go of your hand, hands falling on your waist before pulling you closer.

“Let’s enjoy the moment a little longer, I don’t mind getting sick.” His nose brushes against yours, his eyes looking into yours ever so lovingly. His supple lips land on yours, pulling away within seconds. “It’s barely even raining.”

“Just a minute then.” You tell him, and he nods in response. However, Zayne doesn’t care to look at the sky. Apart from the full moon, there’s nothing that’s worth noting.

He loves the feeling of the rain on his skin, every droplet is a subtle reminder that this is real. He’s living in the moment. What’s happening right now is not a fragment of his imagination. The way you look at him, the way you laugh, the way your hands wrap behind his neck– It’s all real.

“Okay, we should go now. I don’t want you to get sick… And I also don’t want to get sick.” You say, and he smiles. He lets go of you, allowing you to go inside without an issue. You’re not going inside without him though. You grab Zayne’s hand and drag him inside, knowing that if he gets sick, you’ll end up getting sick as well.

“I’m going to get changed.” You tell him, and he mindlessly follows. He’s seen you naked many times, there’s no need to be shy… Except he is the one that gets shy at the mere thought of seeing you naked. He’s already flustered at the idea of you getting changed; but he still follows.

“What do you want to do now? Watch a movie?” You ask him, getting to the room. There’s a sudden increase in temperature– Or is it just Zayne? Why does he feel hot?

“A movie… Sounds fun.” He swallows thickly, watching as you begin to lift up your shirt. His cheeks turn pink at the sight of some skin, but you never take off your shirt. You notice he’s staring, and you fight back on smirking. 

“Do you have something else in mind?” You watch him step towards you, ever so slowly. He’s hesitating. Should he? He doesn’t want to turn the sweet night into something… More. But he does.

He wants to feel every inch of you, and frankly, the shirt that you have on outlines everything which doesn’t really help. Maybe he’s a pervert for the thoughts that creep into his head, but it’s hard to think differently when you look like this right before him.

Before you know it, Zayne’s lips land on yours, tongue exploring your mouth before it finds your own. His tongue presses against yours while his hands desperately try to take off the damp clothes that cover your body. Very skilled hands struggle, nerves overtaking him at the thought of feeling your body. An action he’s done many times before, but he turns into putty each and every time.

You’re not as nervous though, hands going to his belt and unbuckling it without an issue. Your hands go into his boxers, feeling him up which makes the man pathetically whimper into your kiss. He can come undone from a single move. And even when your hands are wrapped around his cock, he’s too nervous to touch under your shirt.  

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips until you pull far enough that the bond breaks. You take off your shirt, and Zayne is watching you as if he were a teenager all over again. Cheeks burn red at the sight of some skin, it’s truly pathetic. It’s not just some skin though, you’re getting completely undressed in front of him.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He’s dumbfounded, it’s as if he’s never seen this before. This is nothing new to him, but it always feels like the first time… That’s a good thing, right? 

His lips land on yours again, though he takes more risks this time as his hand fondles your breast. His lips don’t last long on your mouth, choosing to kiss down your neck, before his lips land on your breasts. His lips kiss every inch of your skin before his tongue circles around your nipple. 

It’s nice, but you need more. Your body is begging to feel every inch of him. Luckily for you, it’s as if Zayne can read your mind.

“I need to taste more of you. Please.” There’s desperation behind his eyes, it’s as if he needs it. You get on the bed for him, legs spreading without a shame in the world.He stares down at you and he licks his lips. Maybe this is how he should’ve led the date in the first place.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He says as he gets on his knees. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up. So gentle and shy, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. Doing things slowly is what makes this more exciting.

“Smells so sweet.” He finally gets to your pussy, the tip of his nose pressing against your clit before he kisses it. His lips feel so soft on you. He kisses your clit again before his tongue begins to flick it. Tastes even better than he remembered. 

Sweeter than he could ever imagine.

Low moans escape your lips as you feel his tongue work on you. The sound of your voice is perfect, all the motivation he needs to do this. It’s his reward for the night, and he couldn’t be happier. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. 

He kisses your clit, two long fingers running through your folds to gather your slick. Once his fingers are lubricated enough, he slowly pushes them in. He begins to suck on your clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You moan his name, pleasure already consuming you.

He curves his fingers so they hit just the right spot. You bite down your lip, feeling embarrassed at the thought of being too loud. He’s looking up at you, and the look on your face is something he wants to have ingrained in his memory.

His fingers pick up speed, and your hands grip the bed sheets. Pleasure consumes you, your climax slowly overtaking your body. You’re moaning his name again, unable to contain yourself as sex clouds your mind. 

“That’s it, baby! That’s so good.” You can’t help yourself as your boyfriend hits all the right spots. It’s music to his ears. Even when he’s been congratulated for his many achievements, this is the best thing he’s ever heard.

Your breath gets caught up in your chest, your body quivering as you finally reach your climax. Zayne pulls out his fingers, tongue continuing to lap at your cunt until he’s finally satisfied. He presses a kiss on your clit when he’s finished.

“I need you, baby. Please.” You say, and Zayne can’t afford to waste another moment. It hurts to even think with the uncomfortable feeling that’s in his pants. He walks to the nightstand to get the bottle of lube before giving all his attention to you. He gets undressed before getting on top of you.

“Are you sure you want this?” Zayne asks as he pours the lube all over his dick. Maybe he should consider some sort of protection, but he needs to fully feel you. He needs to feel every inch of your body. 

“I need you, please. Give it to me.” Your voice is enough to drive him wild. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly pushing himself into you. He bites his lip, not wanting the pathetic noise that leaves his throat to be audible. You feel so nice and warm around his cock, so fucking perfect in every single way.

“It’s so good.” He mutters, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he feels you around him. He bottoms out, stopping to give you time to adjust. 

“Move.” You tell him, and Zayne begins to move with slow thrusts. His eyes focus on your face, watching as it contorts with pleasure. It’s hard for him to not get nervous when you look like this, so fucking perfect. 

“You’re so tight.” He says, hands gripping the bed sheets. Your legs wrap around his waist, hands going to the back of your neck to push him down. Your lips meet his in a messy but passionate kiss.

You drive him insane.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” You praise him, and you hear a groan come from his throat. His thrusts pick up speed, slowly losing himself inside of you. All composure comes undone when it comes to you.

He watches your hand move down your torso, and before you can even finish your thought, his hand takes over. His fingers play with your clit, doing everything just right. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, moaning his name over and over again.

“Fuck.” He curses, a word that rarely leaves his lips. But what else can he say when you’re squeezing around him? He shuts his eyes, too overwhelmed by everything that goes on. Your hands go to his back, nails digging into his soft flesh which makes him moan– The slight pain heightens the pleasure.

“Zayne, I’m gonna–” You begin, pleasure overtaking your body as another climax approaches. Zayne hits all the right spots, he simply knows your body too well. 

“I know, dear. I know.” He’s out of breath. He’s close too. It’s just too much for him to handle. But you’re one step ahead of him. Your nails drag along the skin of his back as pleasure gets the best of you. You see white, finally reaching your high. 

“Good job.” He praises you, knowing that he’s not going to last much. You’re just too much for him, which in the context, is a wonderful thing. His thrusts get sloppy, getting more vocal by the second.

“Can I finish inside?” He asks, and you frantically nod your head, not even having the words to say yes. You pull him into a kiss, and he groans into it as he releases his warm cum into you. A dragged out sigh leaves his lips when he pulls away from the kiss. 

He stays buried inside of you, not wanting to leave your warmth just yet. He stares into your eyes for a bit, getting lost in them once again. There’s a certain spark in them, one that he’s noticed only appears when you look at him. The same spark that appears in his eyes.

“Can we cuddle?��� You ask him as he pulls out of you. He lays down beside you, turning his head to look at your sweaty face.

“Clean up first.” He says, though you don’t listen and nuzzle up next to him. He rolls his eyes, but he still wraps his arms around you. “I admit, this is much better than stargazing.”

“We could’ve done that there too.” You respond without missing a beat, and his face gets completely red. He definitely wasn’t imagining that. He supposes that you could’ve, but it wouldn’t be as special– It would be even more special, it just would be indecent.

“I like it better here.” He tells you, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s warm, and there’s no bugs around.”

“You’re right.” You chuckle. “Could you imagine if a mosquito bit you–”

“How about I run you a bath?” Zayne cuts you off, knowing that the question that’s about to leave your lips is absurd. He doesn’t want to hear it. 

“Will you join me?” You question, getting off him. He takes a moment to look at you before nodding in response. 

A bath sounds nice.

[dr-spectre]

I saw this really great thread on twitter by Grungygrim and it definitely highlights my thoughts and frustrations with the story of these games and the Splatoon fandom as a whole. (be forewarned, i get really tilted in this blog post fyi.)

I made a blog post about 2 weeks ago where i said that i was happy that the narrative online that "Callie is an idiot who got kidnapped and then brainwashed/mind controlled against her consent" is going away. (Here's the link: https://www.tumblr.com/dr-spectre/749710338672525312/im-so-happy-that-the-narrative-online-that?source=share)

Unfortunately I'm gonna have to retract a lot of the stuff i said. I'm still seeing, TILL THIS DAY THAT NARRATIVE ONLINE! IM STILL SEEING SO MUCH MISINFORMATION AND IT MAKES ME REALLYYYY ANGRYYYY!!! As a big fan of Callie, people completely outright ignoring her character arc THAT WAS SET UP SINCE SPLATOON 1 BY THE WAY!!! and not even bothering to look at outside sources for more information and lore genuinely pisses me the fuck off to no end.

No, hypnosis is NOT MIND CONTROL/BRAINWASHING! I DONT WANNA KEEP REPEATING IT! YOU CAN LOOK IT UP! if a person is genuinely uncomfortable and doesn't wish to take the suggestions to heart while hypnotized, THEY WONT DO SO! THEY STILL HAVE CONTROL! Yes, Marie did say "kidnapped" in some of her dialogue, but from her perspective, OF COURSE SHE'S GONNA THINK CALLIE GOT KIDNAPPED! She's known to worry about Callie all the time and ruminate about her, of course she's gonna think of the worst case scenario, doesn't mean she's right though. Was Octavio still in the wrong for hypnotizing Callie in the first place and allowing her to bring out her darker traits more easily? YEAH! NO SHIT! HE'S A BAD DUDE! Not a totally evil person but he has made some awful decisions out of desperation for his people. Why do you think he was so quick to help out the New Squidbeak Splatoon in the finale of Splatoon 3? His people got turned into fluffy monsters by a giant bear, he's all about helping his people.

Hell look at how Callie acts while under the Hypnoshades, she decorates Octo Canyon and her peppy and energetic self is still in tact even during the final boss, she's just more mean and violent. Callie was in an emotional and mentally unwell situation due to her overworking herself and being incredibly lonely as her relationship with Marie was damaged overtime. Callie accepted the suggestions of DJ Octavio and heard him out, AS SAID BY HER FROM THE RELATIONSHIP CHART! She wasn't forced into anything. She didn't suffer "sexual abuse" from Octavio by being forced into skippy clothing as some psychos say online, if she didn't want to wear that outfit she wouldn't cause hypnosis is NOT MIND CONTROL!! I hate having to repeat this over and over again, i hate how the developers basically rushed and ruined this interesting villain arc with stupid shades, only to try and hastily fix it later with an obscure post about A GOD DAMN RELATIONSHIP CHART THAT PEOPLE EITHER DONT KNOW ABOUT OR DONT CARE TO LOOK AT BECAUSE THEY SEE SPLATOON AS SOMETHING FOR KIDS AND TO NOT GIVE ANY CARE TOWARDS!!!!!!!!

I made a god damn giant blog explaining Callie in Splatoon 2 because i felt so frustrated about how my favorite character in the series was being treated and i tried to salvage the story that the writers tried to make. The way that people made her situation worse by saying she got kidnapped and forcibly ""mind controlled/brainwashed"" actually gave me chest pain, thinking about that kind of scenario for Callie actually hurts me... Heck i cant even listen to the Splatoon 2 stage music or final boss music because hearing her reversed vocals makes me feel uncomfortable due to the misinformation online. I hated all the misinformation and i wanted it to stop. HELL EVEN IN GIANT TIMELINE VIDEOS WHERE PEOPLE DO TONS OF RESEARCH THEY STILL GET IT WRONG!! UGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! i guess it'll still be the common and popular notion that Callie is an idiot that got kidnapped and then ""mind controlled"" by some shades... oh well... ugh...

I'm sorry if I'm coming off as really angry, i am. It's just, my brain is really hyperfixated on this squid and she means a lot to me. Seeing the way the fandom as well as the writers treat her makes me really mad. I hope i can find some peeps who feel the same way as i do. Misinformation is so frustrating man... i dont even wanna get into the Octarians because that's a whole other can of worms... anyways im done ranting. have a good night or good morning wherever you live y'all.

[ventismacchiato]

36 behind the lens — plot twist we’re dating !

scaramouche x g!n reader

notes; in star’s image just ignore the skin tone and body type, i just really wanted to use it but i want to be inclusive and cudnt crop it out 😔 basically ur clutching a cup of coffee near ur crotch LMAO,, it’s yeonjun from txt

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

all of celestia and fatui follow scarayns privates now

jungkook as scara

star’s image is yeonjun from txt, ignore the skin tone/body type and just focus on the pose

author’s notes — two updates in a week yw <3

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilneps @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos [1/3]

[zee-rambles]

So NOT ONLY has one of the writers for ROTTMNT shared a few unseen scripts for scraped episodes from Rise season 2, BUT they’ve also said that they’d want to salvage some of those gems AND continue making a new story arc post movie.

There. Is. Interest.

ALSO! #RiseSeason3 and some variation of #UnpauseROTTMNT or #SaveRiseoftheTMNT has been trending for the last three days on twitter!

So don’t give up! Watch/stream the show/movie, spam Cinemawinner’s YouTube channel with requests to review the Rise of the TMNT movie. Make art! Recommend the show. Send letters to Nick, call them out on social media, make posts across as many platforms as you can.

RISE!

[wilwheaton]

Elon's new blue-check subscription service was a massive flop, and the sudden removal of nearly half a million blue-checks suddenly made it crystal clear to Twitter's user base that the blue-check club going forward was going to be populated almost entirely by right-wing weirdos. There would be no hanging out with Stephen King or LeBron James; your fellow blue-checks would instead be a few notorious racists and jokes from (checks notes) influential wag "catturd." In fact, by so clearly labeling the worst of Twitter’s worst people, it spurred a genius #BlockTheBlue backlash, in which people gleefully banned the blue-check trolls that now populated the top of every single prominent Twitter thread (like those of actual celebrities announcing their refusal to pay for what was now a worthless mark). The visible unpopularity of the program wasn't just embarrassing for Musk. It's an existential threat to the program’s viability. Musk sold the subscription service as a way to become one of the site's Important People without merit; if all the Important People didn’t just stay off the program, but mocked it, only the most diehard of Musk loyalists would be eager to sign up for that. As the collapse of the program became self-evident, third parties had already begun working on automated #BlockTheBlue plugins that would systematically block all checkmarks. So Musk immediately set out to salvage the reputation and very existence of the $8 club—by forcing Important People to be in it whether they liked it or not. And by "immediately," we mean "by afternoon."

Elon Musk's Twitter Blue is a verified disaster

I was one of Twitter’s early adopters. I was one of those accounts they suggested you follow when it started to get big. I went from a few thousand followers to a hundred thousand in a matter of days, and was at 3 million when I closed my account.

I left Twitter long before Musk took over, but I kept the account to protect it and the branding it comes with from bad people.

Last year, before Musk bought it, I posted a couple of tweets to let those three million accounts know that my memoir had been published. It seemed silly not to. I turned replies off, and just let it be an announcement.

Then Musk took over, and I watched Twitter turn into 4Chan. When it started to become 8Chan, I deleted my entire archive, unfollowed everyone except family, and then made my account private. I figure I still need to protect the username.

I don’t look at my account, but someone told me the check was gone. (Oh, I was one of the earliest verified users, too). I was thrilled. I didn’t want anyone to think I gave that bozo my money.

Then the same person told me the check was back, shortly after I think all decent people had concluded that blue check = red flag (or red hat). So I signed back into my account and updated my bio to make sure nobody ever thinks I gave that dumbass any of my money.

I know I’m not alone. That check mark is now toxic, and I’m not the only longtime verified user who doesn’t want anything to do with it. I wonder if someone more famous than me, with more at stake, makes noise about the implied endorsement  / affiliation the blue check now carries with it, and the brand damage that comes with it?

[acourtofmenandthirst]

When The Night Calls

Tamlin x Reader

Warnings: smut, slight breeding, dubcon if you will, Calanmai, beastie tamlin (not abo or actual beastiality)

Word Count: 6.6K

This Tamlin x reader was inspired by @slutbugz (nsfw) on twitter!! I got permission to write this, and here are a couple pics that inspired me. Not Tamlin, but I mean come on how hot would he be like this…

Your mother tucked a warm cup of tea between your palms and curled a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Your father had spent a majority of the evening boarding up the windows and the doors, nailing the heavy wooden slats into the frame. The incescent sound of the sharp iron nails being driven into the trim with the steel hammer had you on edge all night - and even though he’d been at it for hours, you still weren’t used to the noise.

He’d all but buried you in the house, laying stones and heavy bags of sand in front of all the doorways to create a hearty wall outside your home. He’d then shut and locked all the doors, opting to nail wooden boards across all the openings, despite the metal latches already fastened in place.

Calanmai used to be a night spent outside, with singing and dancing, letting the magic run wild across the Spring Court hills. You could even feel it twist and twirl through your ankles and across your arms, like a warm wind. It was a party most Fae snuck out to join, once they were old enough, that is. The joyous feast and dancing around the bonfire lasted most of the evening, before the Fae females were lined up for the High Lord’s choosing.

It used to be an honor to be taken for the evening, a lustful night spent with the most powerful Fae male, in which her bodily sacrifice promised good yield and high power for the following year. Her family would be well taken care of, and her likeness would be celebrated throughout the town.

The High Lord had been rumored to be a great lover. A strong male, large and well built, with shining green eyes and oh-so-pullable blond hair. The females he bedded had lived on cloud-nine for the first few days after the ceremony, and despite their lust-blown eyes and the contagious smile across their plump swollen lips, none had ever uttered a word about the male’s performance. They didn’t need to, though, as even a blind Fae could tell all they needed to from their blissed out state.

While the Spring Court males had never been too pleased that their sisters or daughters could be whisked away by the High Lord for an eventful evening, it was considered a blessing by the Mother herself, considering it was her magic that coursed through his veins that night and chose his partner.

But it hadn’t been the same in the past few years. Not even with all the years spent under the mountain - you’d still had that one night of freedom, where Fae wine and music spread across the Spring Court hills. A night of tears filled with the promise of freedom - someday. Tamlin had bedded a lovely brunette that last evening, and though seemingly possessed by a darker magic (perhaps due to the circumstances set forth by Amarantha) the female returned to the crowd with shaking legs.

But it had only gotten worse after that. After you’d been freed from the confines of the mountain, at the hands of that once-human female, you’d expected the court to return to its plush green, with magic in the wind and happiness in the air.

But then the female left - well, she was stolen.

And then the High Lord became unhinged.

Later, when it was found out that she’d up and all but left him for the Night Court - that she had willed for the High Lord of the Night Court to take her from Spring - Tamlin had broken completely.

War waged throughout the lands while he remained bastardized and miserable. Lucien, the Autumn Court emissary, had left as well. The High Lord was utterly alone.

Calanmai was skipped that year.

The harvests suffered. There was so little food to go around; the salvageable fruits and vegetables were sold at market for one hundred times their worth. There was once a point where money and gold were valued and traded for nearly as much, but you couldn’t even buy meat with three solid gold necklaces - at that time, if it wasn’t edible, it was worthless. Your small family had barely made it through the year, keeping to themselves and rationing soup and bread.

Rumor had it, Tamlin had been seen around lately. He was spotted lurking in the woods, his unmistakable green eyes glowed against the dark brush. Word had gone around suggesting he’d be back for this Calanmai. He would have to return for the magic to be restored in the lands - and it would make quite the return.

You were glad, hoping he’d retake control of the court. You all surely needed it. But the sight of your father boarding up the house only made your bones itch.

The male hadn’t been seen in human form in over a year.

He undoubtedly had built up an unquenchable thirst.

You sighed into your tea cup, rubbing the

furrow between your eyebrows.

“We should’ve sought refuge in the Summer Court,” you father grumbled, more to himself than either you or your mother. He dropped a nail, causing the heavy piece of lumber he was nailing over the final window to fall to the wooden floor with a loud bang. Your flinch caused some of your tea to splash out of your mug and onto your hands.

Your mother responded regardless: “And give them what in return, exactly?” It was the argument they’d been having for the past month: leave the Spring Court for the week of Calanmai and seek refuge in Summer. But with the poor yeild and nothing to offer in return for shelter, your mother did not think it would be a good idea. Though, your father argued it would be better to sleep on the beaches of the Summer Court than to risk the High Lord stealing you for Calanmai.

While the argument ensued in the living room, you wandered off into your bedroom, unable to listen to the same conversation they’d already had a million times over. You lit the candle beside your bed, grimacing at the wooden slats that had been nailed over your large window, the moonlight shining in only through the slivers of space between the boards. You knelt on the floor beside your bed, sighing as you read the time on the clock beside your bed: 9:07. You only had three more hours until this night came to an end.

You pressed your nose against your palms, held together in prayer as your elbows rested on the bed. You silently prayed to the Mother for an uneventful evening: that your home, your mother, your friends, and your neighbors would all be safe. You prayed that the High Lord regained his power over the court, prayed for a strong yield, and prayed that whoever he did choose the evening would make it out safe and sound.

Through the muffled sound of your parents’ argument outside your closed bedroom door, you heard the wind ruffling the leaves outside. The tree on the otherside of your window rapped against the glass, the bushes shaking wildly as they were stirred up by the wind.

You furrowed your brows as you rose and neared the wooden slats, unsure of the storm that was brewing up outside. But as you neared the glass, peering over the boards, there was a dark figure climbing through the brush in front of your window.

A pair of bright green eyes glared back at you, dark in color but shining brighter than the moon. You were frozen in place with a gasp lodged somewhere deep in your throat. He did nothing but stare at you, his large figure shielded by the leaves. His head was furry - wolffish ears standing tall above his head and glinting in the moonlight.

He radiated nothing but pure power.

You stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over the back of your skirts. As you steadied yourself, though, he took one step forward. As you moved back again, feeling for the bedside table behind you, he took another forward, his chest nearly touching the glass of your window. You watched ad his chest broadened with each heavy breath he took. The cold air swirled around his head, the air nearly freezing cold.

He raised a large hand and his fingers rapped against the window, no doubt feeling how thick the glass is. Then his eyes narrowed, staring at you between the gaps of the wooden boards. He made quick work to tear down the moat of sandbags and stones on the ground at the base of your window.

Without another look back at the half beast - you ran, calling for your patents.

But your shouts were drowned out by the sound of broken glass and heavy breathing, the male grunting as he tore through the wooden boards, breaking them right down the middle, ripping nails out of the frame.

You lurched for the door, running out into the living room, following your parents’ confused calls, shouting for help. But somehow, the male was faster, and as he was right on your heels, you took one look back before heading straight for the kitchen.

The male was build like a stone fucking wall, muscles coiling around his chest and arms, stained red from the cold air outside. He wore nothing but a pair of thick looking trousers, stained with grass and mud - unlikely to have been washed within the past year. His head was covered by a wolf’s hide, brownish in color, with glassy brown eyes. The jaw had been broken, such that the lower half of the jaw was missing, exposing the male’s face to you. The wolf’s teeth crowded his face, intimidating sharpness mirroring the Fae’s own fangs that he barred in your direction. His blond hair poked out around his jaw, mixing with the fur that flowed into the hood down his back.

The High Lord had come for you.

You screamed, rounding the corner hoping to find something to defend yourself with. As you scanned around the kitchen, unable to find anything, you heard your mother’s scream, and his footsteps indicating that he was closing in on you.

“Son of a bitch - ” you heard your dad call towards him, only to be met with a feral growl from the taller male.

Without another look back at your family, you ran out the back door.

Straight into the woods.

You went as fast as your feet could take you, using only the moonlight as a guide into the woods.

You couldn’t hear anything over the wind whirling past you, mixing with the sound of your heartbeat drumming in your pointy ears. You wove through trees and hurled yourself over boulders and fallen branches, praying to all the gods that you didn’t slip on anything. You didn’t know if he was running on his own two legs or on all fours. Nothing would surprise you, considering the rumors of the shifter male - more powerful than any other Fae… you had no doubt he’d catch up to you eventually.

But why hadn’t he caught you by now?

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and pushed your legs impossibly faster, arms pumping at your sides to keep your momentum going, every so often shooting out beside you to keep your balance as you tripped over slippery rocks and fallen tree branches.

It felt like you’d been running for hours, though you knew he wouldn’t have let you - after all, there were only a few hours left of the night, the Calanmai magic had to be sealed in before midnight. You had never run so fast or so far; you wove through trees, looking for the godsdamned river that ran into Spring from the Autumn Court - but you couldn’t hear it, let alone find it. You’d twisted and turned around the trees so many times that you’d lost track of where you were. You couldn’t find any of the trails; not even the moonlight could light up the ground enough for you to track any Fae or animal footprints.

It was still so quiet behind you, maybe you lost him when you slid between the narrow spaces between the trees, surely his huge form wouldn’t fit. In the dark, though, you missed all the claw marks on the tree bark, where the High Lord had clawed his way through the thicket. His lips spread into a grin as he could hear your racing heart from where he ran behind you.

You gulped down a deep breath and your hands coiled into fists. You mustered the strength to tilt your jaw to the side, the moon lighting your sights just far enough in front of you to confirm there were no trees in front of you to run into.

Your legs kept pushing as your head turned, eyes darting out to the side to look for the pursuer.

Then he lurched.

Your breath caught in your throat as it felt like your heart stopped beating completely. He’d been shadowing your every move, no more than a step away from you this whole time. Two big hands grabbed your hips easily, his long arms barely having to stretch out to pull you into his chest. His warm palms pinned your hips to his own, your back flush against his naked chest as your feet left the ground and he came to a sudden stop.

You let out a winded groan, your chest and legs burning from the sudden stop - but your bare feet were damn near thanking the gods as they left the freezing ground, no doubt cut up and bleeding.

The High Lord took no more than a few steps forward before he set you back down on your own two feet, a strangled groan leaving your throat when the dewy leaves met your open wounds. You clawed at his forearms and the backs of his hands, panic suddenly flooding through you.

But he kept his hips pressed up against your ass as you lurched forward, trying to escape his grip. But he simply laughed, the rumble of his chest vibrating into your back as he mirrored your movements.

He was so warm, though, and the cold was quickly sinking into your bones as you were held in place. The thin layer of sweat that coated your legs and the back of your neck was starting feel like you’d been doused in an ice bath. The only thing keeping your teeth from chattering and your chest from convulsing was the beast of a male behind you.

He adjusted his grip, holding you across the waist with one arm, as the other slid over your skirts, drawing a long line down your leg until he found the hem and hiked it up over your hips. You screamed at his quick actions, one of this thick thighs found his way between yours. His pants brushed against the apex of your thighs, the sudden pressure between your legs causing them to squeeze around his.

“Scream all you want,” he growled, the sound of your panting only causing his cock to stir in his pants. “Nobody can hear you.” His breath brushed against your ear as he leaned in close to whisper to you. You shivered when his hips began to rut against you, building up in presesure that you rocked on your tiptoes when his hips jutted against your ass.

There had been years where Tamlin had looked forward to Calanmai, the magic coursing through his veins turning him into a completely different male. He used to love the sound of the female’s blissful moans and cries falling over him in praise as he bedded them for hours. He missed how they’d pull at his hair, how they’d promise him anything he wanted, that he could take them however he’d pleased.

And this was how he wanted you, heady, desperate, rocking back against him as your legs dared to curl around his, fighting for him to be even closer to you.

Tamlin grinned again, biting into the crook of your neck, right at the exposed flesh from the neckline of your dress. It was soft, just enough for his fangs to press against your skin, to which the gasp that escaped your lips almost had him sticking his cock into you immediately.

You felt the fur against your neck, the matted coarse hairs from the wolf hide he wore poking against your sensitive skin as he licked over the bitemark he’d just given you. Your knees pushed together, feet leaving the ground as you rocked against his thick thigh. Tamlin kept his vice-grip on your waist as the other hand pushed up your dress until it was hiked up over your back. He then curled his arm around your front, reaching over your hip and the mountain of skirts around your waist. He rested you on his thigh, your toes now barely grazing the ground.

It took all of your strength not to rock your hips back and forth against his leg.

And turns out you weren’t that strong.

The heat radiating off him was like a drug coursing through your body, and the only way to keep it flowing was by rubbing your cunt across his hard-muscled thigh. The friction of your undergarments against his pants was addicting.

Tamlin laughed at how eager you were.

He let you have your fun, tucking his hand down your front, fingers sliding between where your pussy was rubbing against him. You gasped, his cold fingers sliding between you legs, prodding at your clit as you shifted back and forth across him.

Your hands flew out to the tree in front of you, sharp bark digging into your palms. But you couldn’t feel it, you were just using it for balance so you could continue fucking yourself against him.

The High Lord practically moaned as you let out a shaky sigh, watching you work so hard to get yourself off - before he even started. He curled his fingers upwards, relishing in the cry that passed your lips when your clit brushed against his fingertips. He dared to move his hand further between your legs, hissing at the way your warm cunt tried to envelope his fingers even through your underwear. He swallowed hard, trying not to focus too hard on your ass brushing against his hard cock in his pants.

So with a few quick passes between your legs, he pulled his hand away abruptly, ignoring the strangled groan that fell from you as your hips faltered.

You were so close.

He lowered you down so your own feet held you up, promptly removing his leg from between yours. You practically whined, pressing your knees and thighs together, clenching around absolutely nothing as you fought to feel something - anything.

Tamlin wasted no time in grabbing all your undergarments and tearing them off you in one quick motion. You screamed, the cold air hitting you all at once, shocking your system. But before you could even register the feeling, you felt his nose press against your bare cunt, his long tongue swiping across your folds.

“Oh my gods,” was all you could gasp as your hips flew backwards, meeting his face as he opened his mouth and began his assault between your legs. He chuckled again, you felt his lips curl into a smile before he kissed around your clit and bit at the fat of your upper thighs. He licked at your clit, back and forth in a quick motion before licking up your slit.

He moaned at the taste, the first woman he’d had properly in years, even. He wasn’t planning on eating you out, the only thing on his mind was burying his cock as deep into your cunt as your body could take, but at the rate his dick was growing, he knew he’d have to loosen you up at least a little before that.

But as his tongue pressed up into your hole, feeling your warm walls, he knew that no matter how long he’d spent opening your cunt up, you’d still be so tight around his fucking cock. The taste of your juices mixed with his own filthy thoughts of bouncing you stupid on his cock had him groaning, the vibrations tickling your thighs that had esentailly trapped him between your legs, unwilling to let him go again.

Not before you came, at least.

“You like this don’t you,” he growled through barred teeth. “Want me to use you for the night? You didn’t run very fast, like you wanted me to catch you, huh?” You felt his lips moving against your pussy as he spoke. You bit back a response, all thoughts and words caught in your throat as he continued to work at your clit.

You pushed further into the bark of the tree as you pressed yourself back against Tamlin’s face. You felt the nose of that godsdamned wolf hood press against your ass, which had you grinding even further into your High Lord’s face. He fell to his knees behind you, running his tongue against your slit and clit as you fucked his face. His hands found purchase against your hips, grabbing at your ass and quickening your pace as your legs shook around him.

You felt his tongue curl up between your legs, flicking at your clit as you were left clenching around nothing, yet again. “Please,” you groaned, brows furrowed, crying out as his tongue swirled around your clit.

His brows rose at your first word spoken to him, a broken cry that was nothing but music to his ears. “Please what?”

He licked another long stripe against your pussy, stopping his previous movements until you answered. You groaned out, desperate for more friction - if rubbing yourself against his pointy nose was all you were going to get, you’d take it. “Please - your fingers, something - ” you gasped as he nuzzled his nose against your clit. “Anything.”

The High Lord laughed, smile broad as he nipped at the skin of your ass. “You’re not supposed to be the one telling me what to do,” he replied, as if it was obvious (it was - but you were desperate). But he smiled and landed a harsh smack against your ass, which burned against your cold skin, right before he returned the assault of his tongue against your clit.

His long fingers dragged up your tight and swiped across your enterance a couple times before he slid them right in your wet pussy, curling upwards against your walls. You both shared a moan, your warm walls clenching around his two cold fingers the moment he pushed them into you. Tamlin pushed himself forward, and you hiked your leg up high enough for him to turn underneath you, now sitting directly under you with his back against the tree you held yourself up against.

He worked his fingers up and down inside of you as he kissed at your clit, swirling his tongue around the nub. His eyes found yours as your head hung forward, and his emerald eyes practically glowed under the darkness of his hood. They were not the eyes of a Fae, no - the wolffish eyes with glowing iris stared up at you, watching your every move as he curled his fingers up into the gummy spot in your walls. Your eyes shut and your knees buckled as he continued his movements, tongue now sloppily licking anywhere he could reach before returning to your clit.

He shook his face back and forth, absolutely devouring you, and the nose of his fucking hide brushed against your pubic bone. With a cry, you squeezed your thighs around his head, practically falling onto his face just to feel his tongue against your clit even harder. It was a welcomed by the High Lord, as his fingers did not falter once as you rode out your high, throwing your head back with a loud cry.

He moaned underneath you, drinking up your sounds and juices as you fucked his face and fingers. But with no time to even catch your footing, the male was back behind you, standing up and hoisting you back to your feet. You kept yourself pushed up against the tree as his one arm held you like before, the other working to push his pants off. He kicked them away before taking a wide stance and tugging at his cock. He let out a shattered breath as he lined the tip of his cock against your wet folds, both of you crying out.

The High Lord kept his arm hooked around you as he nudged your clit with the thick tip of his dick, your legs nearly shutting around him in overstimulation. He nudged your leg with a bent knee, lifting his foot to kick your leg out from under you, spread apart from the other. He tutted at you, leaning forward so his chest pressed against your back again. “Legs open,” he growled in your ear. “You’re tight enough as it is.”

You couldn’t even comprehend his words as he slid the tip of his cock into your wet cunt. He grunted as he drove his hips forward, the wetness of your pussy letting him slide right in, though your walls squeezed him so tightly, and he had to grit his teeth and hold himself back from slamming his hips up into yours.

You squeezed you eyes shut and groaned, feeling his wide cock stretch your walls. You cried out as you tightened around him the farther he drove his cock into you. He moved back and forth slowly, allowing you to get used to his size, before he couldn’t take it anymore. His dick was so hard, he’d been waiting for this moment for years, the Mother’s magic surging through him like adrenaline in his veins.

So he fucked you like it - without so much as a warning, he slid out of you almost completely, so just his tip was catching on the enterance of your pussy. You arched against him, tilting your hips backwards to try to fuck yourself back onto his cock. Before you could get any farther, his hips slammed up to yours, his balls hitting your clit from behind.

You screamed out, as his cock practically pierced you, and he continued to fuck you at a rapid pace. He moved so quickly that you hinged forward, curling over his arm still secured around your waist. You lurched forward at each press of his hips, moaning each time his cock nudged that sweet spot inside of you.

Your arms had fallen from where they were holding you up against the tree, completely hinged in half as your fingers clawed at his arms - this time out of pleasure. Your legs were too weak as you clenched around him, finally giving out as they began to shake with your impeding orgasm. Tamlin’s other hand gripped your hip so that he held you completely against him, bent in half, as he continued fucking you, now so much tighter as your legs fell together under you.

The High Lord let loose a string of curses as you squeezed his cock. He held your hips up, your toes just barely brushing the ground as he fucked up into you. His breathing was ragged as his chest heaved, groaning as you tried to grab onto anything you could. He never lost rhythm as he drove into you, your slick walls allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease. Your head spun as it felt like he was just getting bigger and bigger the more he fucked you.

Tamlin let you fall to your hands an knees abruptly - to which you knew you’d feel the pain of more if you weren’t completely focused on the heat between your legs. He took a knee behind you, legs spread around your side to shove his cock back into you. “Fuck, how are you so tight still?” He muttered to himself as he continued to fuck you, faster now that he didn’t have to hold you up.

You used all the strength you had left to push yourself up and turn your head behind you to take in the sight of the High Lord absolutely wrecking your pussy. His skin was glistening in the moonlight, the muscles across his broad chest straining as he moved his hips so smoothly against yours. His hair fell over his shoulders, sticking to his neck with sweat. His face was conceleaed, only his lips and sharp jaw poking out from the wolf hide’s unhinged jaw. Your gaze fell down his chest to his taut waist, where the blond hairs underneath his bellybutton grew to surround his cock.

Gods, you knew he was getting bigger.

The base of his cock was so thick, you weren’t even sure it would fit inside you anymore. He moved you quickly on his dick, in and out so you slid down just half of his length. It was mesmerizing, truly, the High Lord thrusting in and out of you ferally.

Then he fucking smiled.

His white teeth barred in a devilish grin, fangs practically shining as you suddenly wanted to feel them bite into your skin.

Then he slammed his hips fully into yours as he pulled your waist back onto him, bottoming out inside of you.

You fell forward with a cry, the stretch of the base of his cock almost painful as your pussy tried to accommodate him. You felt him against your cervix, stirring up into your stomach. You rested your forehead against your arm, protecting your face from the dirt and ground underneath you.

Tamlin’s groaned, breathing a quiet, “That’s it, take it,” as you felt his large hand flatten against your back. In your folded position, you arched even farther against him, where he swore he could feel the end of the depths of your cunt. He kept you arched, which you almost struggled to break as he continued to fuck into you.

He leaned over, other hand ripping a line down your bodice with what felt like a sharp claw, tearing your dress from your skin - so you were just as naked as he was. He licked a broad stripe up your spine before burying his head into your neck and biting your shoulder. You gasped, his sharp canine teeth nearly breaking skin. He offered you a repreive, leaving open mouthed kisses across your shoulder and neck - undoubtedly marking you.

His leg hinged around yours, allowing him to hump into you as you fell forward underneath him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him, not with the force of how hard he was fucking you.

Like he read your mind - he pulled out of you quickly, his wet cock curling up against your cunt as he rutted against your folds a few times. Tamlin wanted to look at you just as much as you wanted to see him.

He gripped your hips and flipped you onto the cold ground so your back was against the fallen leaves and branches. He lifted your legs up so they were bent in the air, allowing him to slide right back in your ready and waiting cunt.

The hood he wore still covered his eyes, just his fangs visible. But you, on the other hand, were all spread out for your High Lord, so pliant and ready for his seed, writhing underneath him.

He truly didn’t know how much longer he’d last.

He knew you wouldn’t last, though, not by the looks of your blissed out face, mouth open and mews spilling from your lips. Your legs were shaking, and you were fighting the urge to wrap them around his waist, but again, like the damned male read your mind, he grabbed the meat of your ass and slid his hand around your thigh, curling them around him. He grinned like the fucking Cheshire Cat. Your hands landed on his shoulders as he leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head.

He groaned, fucking you so deeply, body almost prone on top of yours now, cock going all the way into you. You met him thrust for thrust, locking your ankles behind him and using it as leverage to fuck yourself onto his big cock. He was close, meeting your quickened pace. “Desprate for your High Lord, huh?” He teased through clenched teeth. “Fuck yourself on my cock, show me how bad you want it.”

Oh you wanted it bad.

You were practically shaking as you continued to meet his thrusts, rocking your hips up and down. Tamlin’s eyes fell to your stomach, where he could see the indent of his cock poking through. He sighed at the sight, plump lips falling open. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, not as he felt his cock twitching and his balls tightening.

Your pussy was absolutely wrecked, stretched out to accommodate the girth of the base of his cock. You felt him rub against your walls, not an inch of your cunt untouched by his dick. Tamlin dropped a hand to your clit, feeling you struggle to take all of him. It became harder for you take his cock as your legs tighten around his waist, your pussy gripping down on his cock as you neared your orgasm.

Tamlin eventually lost all patience, slamming his hips into yours. You fell back completely against the ground, unable to hold yourself up any longer as your took his brutal strokes. He humped into you, his balls rubbing against your ass as he towered over you, fucking you quickly.

Your hips turned upwards and you took a sharp breath as the hairs at the base of his cock brushed against your clit. “You going to take all of it?” Tamlin growled, fucking you harder.

Your stomach coiled, legs shaking as you tried to shut your legs around him, but his body gave you no space to squirm around him. “Scream for my cum,” he moaned, falling forward and pressing his lips against your neck. “I know you want it. Tell me you want it.”

You did, so you screamed, crying out for your High Lord to fill you up.

He came as soon as you did.

His warm seed filled your cunt as he continued to fuck you, the lewed sound of your wet walls against his slowing pace made you shiver. His long cock was still nuzzled inside you as his hand drew up your waist and found its way up your chest. His fingers and thumb danced across your soft breast, swirling at your nipple before his hand danced along your collarbone and up your throat. He tilted your chin up, undoubtedly taking in all your features before his thumb swiped against your bottom lip.

He swore he’d never cum so much in his life. But never had he been presented with such a pretty pussy to fill up, one that would take him completely and be able to give all his seed to. You’d hold all of it - he’d be damn sure - as the swollen tip of his cock remained nestled deep in your cunt.

You were panting and twitching as Tamlin stilled completely above you, too enthralled in the feeling of your wet pussy coated in his cum to even try to pull out. His strong arms keep himself held above you, his face, shielded by the wolf hide, still only a few inches away from yours - but if you moved any closer, you’d certainly be knocked by the nose and teeth of whoever that once was. His blond hairs were clumped together at the ends, hanging over his broad shoulders, and you couldn’t see his eyes, surely dimmer now as the Mother’s magic was wearing out of his system, but you know they were glaring down at you from underneath the darkness of the hood.

The High Lord shifted, keeping his cock buried inside of you as he unhooked one of your legs to make room for him to slide down beside you in the dirt. You winced as he moved you, your pussy now beaten raw and sore as it shifts against the coarse blond hairs across his pubic bone. It’s the first time you’d heard his voice quiet, gruff but calm, as he murmured a quiet “Sorry.”

He moved for your hips to sit atop of his, his cock softening, but still far too big for it to slip out of you in this position. Your legs fell across his own, thick thighs shielding your softer ones from the hard ground. He tucked you in the crook of his arm, allowing you to rest against his chest.

His hood had fallen against the tree roots he rested against. It was your first look up close at him, the arch of his brownish eyebrows, the long pale eyelashes that rested along his high cheekbones when he blinked. His nose sloped into a sharp point and the hair framing his face was stuck to his bronze skin with sweat. You swore his chiseled cheeks were tinted pink, probably the cold.

You didn’t know that the male was actually just blushing, the feeling of your pretty eyes studying him made him nervous. Now that the haze fogging his mind had cleared, Tamlin was almost embarrassed with his actions, how he chased you through the woods and forced you against the cold hard earth. He’d never felt that way before - not in his many hundred Calanmai celebrations he’d had before. Perhaps he was a bit pent up, but maybe it was something about you that had him acting so primal.

You brought out the beast in him.

He clenched his jaw to keep himself quiet, unsure of what he should say - what would he even say to you after that? He usually never said anything to the females he bedded after the night was over, never had to - never wanted to.

You swallowed a shaky breath when his eyes met yours, and for the first time you’d seen him as a Fae male and not as a wolf. Those green eyes burned brighter than any leaf or flower in this forest. His gaze remained unwavering, almost in challenge. You bit your lip nearvously, his sights flickering down to your lips, now chapped and dry from the cold that swirled around the both of you.

He wanted to kiss you regardless.

But he figured he’d save that for the next time - when he’d hopefully be able to act like like a respectable male.

He studied you, and under the scruitiny of your High Lord, you spoke out nervously. “My parents wanted to seek refuge in the Summer Court.” You made no move, not to escape him nor flee the woods - if you could even find your way back home.

The High Lord scoffed, turning his head away to gaze up at the stars. His body remained still, one arm tucked under you, curling around your waist to keep your naked body flush against his own. The heat radiating off him kept you warm, both of you glowing through the thin layer of sweat coating your chests. His bright hair splayed out behind his head, blond locks mixing with the brown fur pelt that rested at the crown of his head and down his back. “To spare you of me?”

You would’ve missed the smirk that he fought hard to suppress if you hadn’t been staring at him to intently. His eyes danced across the constellations, studying them, and there was no doubt in your mind that he knew the names and stories behind each of them. His arm tightened around you, fingers gripping into the plush skin of your hips. You didn’t trust yourself to respond, just a nod of your head that he felt against the crook of his neck as you buried yourself further into him.

Tamlin licked his teeth behind his closed lips, barring his fangs but keeping them hidden from you. His voice was low when he responded, calm and confident: “I would have found you anyway.”

[headspace-hotel]

Y'all want postcards from my visit to Twitter? Full disclosure all of these people are Nazis so be aware that I mock them without the slightest minuscule grain of good humor

Normal things to type with your hands huh

Anyway I'm hit so hard these days by how contemporary fascism shares like 90% DNA with Conservative Evangelicalism.

And that's really what frustrates and frightens me about contemporary Christianity, because there are people in it whose political beliefs uncertainly approach "liberal," who want to grapple with racism and sexism in the Church, but a lot of the writers and thinkers that were foundational to their worldview are now viewed by them as good-naturedly misguided, when their ideas were Very Much Fascism. Being a philosopher or theologian with a mild mannered affect doesn't make them not a fascist. Being well-intentioned in a twisted way doesn't make them not a fascist. Failing to realize that what they were supporting and proposing is fascism doesn't make them not a fascist.

There is just not a sufficient recognition of the horrible seriousness of the "culture war" and how the topics that were battlegrounds in the "culture war" were selected for monstrous political purposes.

There is a continued effort to "save" or "salvage" things like being pro-life and supporting abstinence until marriage, and this, to me, reflects a continued failure to seize the fascist abomination Evangelicalism has become and truly tear it up by the roots. Can you be personally uncomfortable with abortion or personally in favor of sex within a committed relationship? Of course. But these things would not be political issues without the influence of fascism in culture and politics. They would not occupy your head like this. They would not be the main subjects of your moral universe without the consuming sense of anxiety that your society is increasingly descending into moral degeneracy, partly to the increased visibility and dominance of groups that are culturally "other," posing an existential threat to the integrity and stability of your culture—which is an INTEGRAL CHARACTERISTIC OF FASCISM

It's at the point where exchanging ideas with conservative Christians, as a more progressive Christian, drags you down more than it could ever lift them up. It's like you're trying to carry a backpack attached to a chain and the other end of the chain is attached to a rabid wolf.

It doesn't matter how important the stuff in the backpack is to you. You cannot go back for it. And if your buddy insists on going no further unless the backpack can come with you, you'll have to make a decision, because that wolf's eyes are lit up with sightless sickly fire and his jaws are foaming and snapping.

[myrthing]

[ID: Email that reads "I offer my most sincere, honest apologies. If there is something I can do to make it up to you, whether it be spreading your latest work to my (admittedly smaller now, but still not insubstantial) following, promote projects you might be passionate about, or even help to produce videos for you. I want to make things right, if I can. Sincerely, James Somerton". /End ID]

From Mick Abrahamsson's twitter.

James. James? James. Buddy. Friend. You don't have a fan following anymore. You have numbers. Any account still following you are the ones belonging to people who aren't active online, who won't engage with your content, who will not watch your stuff. They're worse than useless to the people you plagiarised (hey, remember how you did that? Have you admitted to it yet?).

And I realise you are very attached to those numbers, otherwise you wouldn't still try to salvage your existing accounts, but dude. Whatever marketing bonus a high follower count can give to your fresh start is going to be seriously hampered by your real following of people who know what you did, who have the receipts, who are going to watch everything you do like a hawk, and who will let people know about your plagiarism, your lies, your misogyny, and above all, the damage you have done to a community.

Like, buddy. You've been cancelled. You aren't going to get a redemption as "James Somerton".

I suggest growing a mustache, starting a hat collection, changing your name to something new, like, I don't know, Jim Summertime, or lighting your videos properly.

Sincerely,

an ant thing.

[isabelpsaroslunnen]

[Original date: 17 March 2018]

Getting congratulated by my psychiatrist for working myself up to wearing pants is ... something.

I went looking for ones two sizes too big and made of soft material so I could at least stretch, and found a couple that don't make me feel like my skin is burning off. (I'm pretty sure they're actually pajama pants.)

[corruptedcaps]

Inner Demons

Special thanks to @lsat (discord: thedivergence, Twitter: LSAT1886) for providing the idea and the images used here.

In the quiet corridors of Saint Agnes Convent, Mother Superior Mary Catherine moved with grace, her silver hair framing a face etched with kindness and wisdom. Her gentle presence enveloped the nuns in a soothing aura of compassion. With each step, the creaking floorboards bore witness to decades of devotion.

Mother Mary Catherine's care extended beyond the spiritual realm; she knew the name and story of every sister under her watch. Her wrinkled hands crafted remedies for ailments, and her warm smile healed wounded spirits. In the convent's courtyard, where roses bloomed in vibrant hues, she often gathered the sisters for moments of shared laughter and reflection.

The tranquility of Saint Agnes Convent was soon interrupted when a bus rolled into the quiet convent, carrying a group of new sisters. Mother Mary Catherine stood at the gates ready to meet her new flock but in particular was interested to meet one new member in particular.

Kat stepped off the bus and immediately lit up a cigarette. Her purple hair and leather jacket standing out amongst the crowd of pious women ready to start their new life devoted to god. By comparison Kat looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but then again the judge had given her the choice between the convent or jail and she had picked the habit over the prison jumpsuit but she was immediately starting to regret her choice.

Mother Superior locked her eyes on the young delinquent and walked over to her with an open mind and an open heart. Kat had just taken a long drag of her cigarette when she turned and accidentally blew the exhaled smoke in the Mother Superior’s face. Rather than apologize she instead laughed.

“Grey smoke, I guess that means there’s a new pope… or does that mean there’s isn’t? Whatever, which way to my room?” Kat said with a smirk. Mother superior stood in frozen shock at the young woman’s blatant disrespect. So much so that Kat eventually rolled her eyes and walked away to find her room.

As the days unfolded at Saint Agnes Convent, Kat's rebellious spirit began to infect her fellow newcomers. The once-pious group found themselves drawn to her edgy charm and the allure of more free wheeling spirit that seemed to exude from her. Within a week Kay had a small but growing group of followers who seemed to be less interested in their religious duties by the second.

The Mother Superior tried her best to bite her tongue and put their changing attitudes down to nervousness. She had hoped it would all settle itself soon enough but this hopeful thought was shattered as Mother Mary Catherine stumbled upon a scene that tested the limits of her patience.

In the dim moonlight, she discovered Kat and a group of sisters stumbling back into the sacred grounds, laughter echoing in the hallowed corridors. The scent of alcohol lingered, staining the air with a discordant note of rebellion.

Mother Mary Catherine's eyes widened in disbelief as she witnessed the blatant disregard for the convent's sanctity.

“Ladies! This is simply unacceptable! This is no way future servants of god to be acting!” She said letting her anger rise for the first time in a decade.

“Oh shut up you old crone! The only person I serve is myself.” Kat giggled drunkenly, with her cohort joining in with the laughter as they stumbled off to their rooms.

Tears welled in Mother Mary Catherine's eyes as she struggled to comprehend the unraveling of the sacred haven she had devoted her life to. In the face of this final straw, she grappled with the challenge of restoring order to a sisterhood now teetering on the edge of chaos.

Determined to salvage the sanctity of her order and the souls of all the girls infected by Kat, Mother Mary Catherine knew she had to do something extreme.

With unwavering conviction, Mother Mary Catherine headed to the library and entered a room she alone had the key too. It was a room she had swore to never set in foot to but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Scanning the arcane tomes in the private room, she finally found the book she was looking for. Pulling it off the shelf she had a moment of pause as she read its cover. It’s Latin roughly translating to ‘Witches Handbook’. All the books in here were vile and evil tomes that the church had collected over the centuries.

Flipping the pages she found what she was looking for. Demonic exorcism. She knew that Kat had a poison in her that needed to be removed and while it wasn’t demonic in nature, she was sure this spell would work to exorcise Kat’s ‘inner’ demons.

As if to solidify her resolve, Mother Mary Catherine suddenly heard the cackling laughter of Kat coming from her bed chambers. It was almost taunting the Mother Superior whose gentle features grimaced at the sound and ended her conflicted mind.

After an hour of waiting for the cruel laughter to die down, Mother Mary Catherine made her way across the solemn hush of the convent to Kat’s room. Creeping in she was relieved to find that Kat was passed out.

The Mother Superior commenced the unorthodox exorcism over Kat’s unconscious form, her words resonating with an ancient power. As she uttered the sacred verses, a tangible shift occurred—the air thickened with an eerie energy, and a vibrant purple cloud materialized, swirling around Kat’s inebriated body.

Mother Mary Catherine's eyes widened in astonishment as the ethereal mist, laden with the essence of Kat's rebellious spirit, rose from her mouth. The bed chambers seemed to pulse with an otherworldly force. Yet, to her shock, the amorphous cloud didn't dissipate into the air; instead, it surged toward Mother Mary Catherine, quick as a gust of wind.

Before she could react, the purple mist enveloped her, winding its way into her mouth. A moment of eerie silence settled over the room, broken only by the distant echoes of the town. Mother Mary Catherine stood, breathless, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and uncertainty. Before she could wonder what had happened Kat began to stir so she made her way quickly out.

By the time the Mother Superior had made it back to her bed, she was exhausted. She barely made it to her mattress before collapsing into a deep sleep. In the stillness of the night, Mother Mary Catherine drifted into an unsettling dream. The sacred confines of the convent transformed into a surreal landscape, where she encountered a distorted version of herself. In the dream, she stood tall, her demeanor starkly different—purple hair cascading down her shoulders, clad in tight leather that whispered of unstoppable power.

The dream cast her as a strict disciplinarian, a figure she scarcely recognized. Her eyes, usually wellsprings of compassion, held an unyielding authority that seemed to clash with the gentle guidance she had embodied for decades. As the dream unfolded, she found herself enforcing rules with an iron fist, a stark departure from the nurturing spirit that had defined her tenure as Mother Superior.

Most startling however was how she punished those who stepped out of line. She would pull off their habits and flog them for the whole convent to see. She would clamp their nipples, bind their limbs, and hit them with a leather whip. However the victim would seem to enjoy it, pleading with the Mother Superior to punish them further.

Before she could continue though, the Mother Superior found herself waking to the sounds of the convent’s cock, welcoming everyone to a new day. She jolted awake to find her undergarments soaked. Embarrassed she quickly undressed and got into a fresh outfit and took a moment to compose herself in the mirror.

She scarcely used the mirror and so didn’t notice that a lot of her wrinkles had seemed to have faded. Her silver hair was darker now, her liver spots had faded and her lips plump and full. She hadn’t even noticed that she had unconsciously picked out one of her older habits, one that teased cleavage.

However Mary Catherine took little notice of the change, save for an absentminded thought of how good she looked. That thought was quickly dispelled as she left her room and spotted Kat across the courtyard. Memories of last night flooded back into Mary Catherine’s mind of the exorcism and the wicked dream she had after. She was so preoccupied with it that she didn’t watch where she was going and bumped into one of the sisters, Sister Helen.

“Oh I’m so sorry Sister Mary Catherine, I didn’t see you there.” The sister said apologetically.

“You fool! Watch where you are going! And call me by my title!” Mary Catherine said, snapping at the girl uncharacteristically.

“I-I’m very sorry Sis- I mean Mother Superior. It won’t happen again.” Sister Helen said almost trembling and Mary Catherine could feel her panties begin to get wet at the sight.

“See that it doesn’t.” She said peering down at the girl with an intense stare. The nun quickly averted her gaze and left. Mary Catherine meanwhile felt a smirk cross her lips. She had never demanded such respect before, it felt intoxicating. She felt like she could boss anyone around, as was her right, and she knew who to start with.

Strolling over to Kat surrounded by her makeshift gang, Mary Catherine took the cigarette from the leather clad brat and stamped it on the ground.

“What the hell!” Kat cried.

“You and your little cohort here are going to scrub every floor of this place starting right now, understand?” Mary Catherine said looming over the pack, the majority of which fled. Kat and a few others remained, unwavering in their defiance and yet Mary Catherine could see something in Kat’s eyes, a crack in her armor.

“As if. Come on girls.” Kat said standing up and walking away obstinately with her friends in tow. Mary Catherine was angered but knew that something had happened last night, that Kat had lost some of her power. She also knew that she absorbed that power and so it as clear what she had to do next.

This time Mary Catherine did not creep into Kat’s room, but strolled in confidently. She was certain Kat would be passed out like last night because she had seen the young hellion sneak into the chapel and take the communion wine. Mary Catherine could have stopped her but knew letting Kat take it would only be to her advantage.

Standing over Kat, the Mother superior did not hesitate as she had done before and in fact positioned herself closer to the sleeping brat to absorb her essence quicker. Speaking the words aloud, Mary Catherine opened her mouth wide after her final word and tasted the sweet purple wisps as they slid down her throat.

Where the previous changes happened over night, new changes happened instantaneously to Mary Catherine’s body, spurred on by her own want. The last of her wrinkles disappeared as her skin grew soft and taut. Her hair lost all of its grey returning to her natural black but with stops of purple too and her breasts were now close to spilling out of her habit.

Her mind meanwhile never felt better, never felt more free. Kat’s rebellious and selfish mind was overriding most of the remaining kind thoughts that the Mother Superior had left.

Licking her lips she looked down at Kat with increasing disdain. She also revelled in seeing Kat’s younger good looks fade as her own appearance started to improve. Strolling over to the mirror Mary Catherine smirked at her new appearance but also at the feeling of strength she now felt coursing through her body.

“Mmmm yessss Kat’s strong resolve is much more suited in my body. It’s clear now that I was too weak before, too much of a pushover. With Kat’s attitude flowing through me I’ll finally have the respect I deserve.” Mary Catherine mused to herself in the mirror.

But something was seeming off about her whole look. Her old habit mixed with her now more youthful body made her appearance somewhat comical. She needed something more fitting her body. That’s when she spotted Kat’s ajar suitcase.

Opening it up hungrily, Mary Catherine was delighted to see such wickedly tight outfits inside. She ran her fingers over their shiny surface, imagining her new younger body slipping inside. Underneath the clothes were an assortment of sex toys and aids, including a leather whip.

The word whip repeated in her mind and made her remember her salacious dream from the previous night. Her pussy started to get wet at the thought of it. Her eyes wandered over to Kat’s sleeping body and she couldn’t help imagining the bitch strung up with a ball gag in her mouth. The Mother Superior had to drag herself out of the room for fear she might make her dream a reality, but she felt compelled to take the bag. That’s when she ran into Sister Helen again.

“I am SO SO sorry Mother Superior, I know you said before, oh my Sister, you look so young and beaut-” the nervous nun said with a mixture of fear and curiosity in her eyes but Mary Catherine cut her off.

“You insubordinate little maggot.” Mary Catherine said with venom in her words as a voice in her head urged her to punish sister Helen.

“You will be punished for this heinous infraction.” Mary Catherine said looming down on the young nun.

“Y-yes of course, I’ll clean whatever you want, I’ll say a thousand rosaries. I’ll do anything.” Helen said pleading. Mary Catherine stayed silent however, choosing to simply smile unnervingly at Helen and beckon the young nun to follow her.

Helen walked timidly into the Mother Superior’s bed chambers after Mary Catherine who had disappeared into her connected bathroom. Helen stood nervously, not wanting to touch anything for fear she would do something to anger the Mother Superior. However her nervousness only skyrocketed as Mary Catherine walked out of the bathroom in a most unexpected outfit.

Gone was her habit, replaced with tight black latex that showed off her impressive curves. What was most shocking was the item in the Mother Superior’s hand. While having zero experience with such things, Helen was sure that Mary Catherine was holding some sort of sex toy in her hand. It was a large almost wand like item that seemed to glow purple and hand a long length of leather attached. Helen shuddered to think what she had in mind for it.

“Undress. Now.” Mary Catherine said sternly.

“Mother Superior, I don’t think this is-” Helen began before Mary Catherine snapped back.

“That’s right you don’t think. You don’t think where you are going and you don’t pay attention to those that are more important around you. But that changes tonight. Now strip!” Mary Catherine said with malice. Helen obliged by slowly undressing.

Within a few minutes Helen was standing naked in front of the Mother Superior who eyed the girl up and down. Swinging her sex you she approached the nun until their faces were mere inches apart. Helen didn’t know until it was too late, but Mary Catherine did this to distract the young nun from the sudden insertion of the sex you into her pussy.

Helen gasped as the cold phallic object pushed deep into her vagina until with a pop her lips closed tightly around it. Helen couldn’t help but shivering in pleasure. She had never allowed even herself to delve so deep but the sex you felt as comfortable as a glove.

“Come here my pet.” Mary Catherine said as she walked a few feet away. Helen however stood still, still rather shocked by what was happening. Rolling her eyes the Mother Superior tugged on the leather lead and Helen was compelled forward. Each step hitting a different erogenous zone.

“Now my pet, I have enchanted this wonderful little device to slowly instill you with subservience to me the longer you wear it. I found it in this deliciously dark book of spells. I’m starting to think witches may have had the right idea. I’m telling you all this because you will, by now, be unable to fight the growing loyalty you feel towards me, isn’t that right?” Mary Catherine said with an evil smile.

Helen looked at the Mother Superior, her face conflicted. Inside her mind, a war was raging, one that the moral and just part of her was losing. She smiled at Mary Catherine and said, “Of course Mother Superior, I will do anything you ask.”

“Excellent, now get on all fours like the dog that you are, you are going to lick my new boots clean with that wretched tongue of yours.” Mary Catherine said looking at her new leashed companion with equal parts disgust and excitement.

The next day the convent was a buzz with word that the Mother Superior had gotten some sort of makeover. Gone were her sensible habits and elderly charm replaced with outfits that showed off her new youthful voluptuous figure paired with a distinctively cold demeanour.

Over the next week she seemed to pull up nuns for the smallest of infractions and banish them to her quarters where she would enter soon after. The nuns would then emerge changed, more docile, more loyal to the new Mother Superior. Weirder still was that the Mother Superior herself seemed different too. She would exit her room looking younger, hotter, and more confident.

Some of the nuns she reprimanded had become her enforcers, reporting infractions directly back to Mary Catherine. Enforcers like Sister Helen even started to dress and act like the Mother superior, copying her purple hair, wearing tight latex outfits. The convent was looking less like a place of worship for god each day and more like a cult of worship to one woman, Mary Catherine.

But despite her growing authority over the convent, Mary Catherine still felt a tug at her conscience, a little voice that nagged at her telling her what she was doing was wrong. She had only wanted to stop the spread of Kat’s influence over the other sisters and instead she had taken that influence and weaponized it for herself.

And yet she couldn’t deny the results. The sisters had never been in such revelry towards her. It was an intoxicating feeling having so many of them literally kiss her feet and praise the actions that she committed. Even when they were deplorable acts against themselves, they begged her for more. No Mary Catherine needed a change but not to her new outlook.

Walking confidently over to Kat’s bed chambers, the Mother Superior was done with hiding in the shadows and instead kicked the door down with her six inch heels waking Kat inside.

“W-what the hell are you doing?” Said an incredulous Kat but the Mother Superior just simply snapped her fingers and a swarm of her loyal supporters rushed in and held Kat down.

“You’ve been a thorn in my side since you arrived you little bitch, but if it were not for you then I wouldn’t have realized what power I was lacking. And now it’s time I take the last of that power from you.” Mary Catherine said with a disturbing smile as she produced her magical sex toy that she had used to build her growing army. Only this time there was a matching glowing plug on the other end as well.

Stilling up to Kat, she shoved one in into the rebel’s pussy and watched with joy as Kat’s eyes rolled back into her head. She had made the magic much more potent this time after all. Taking the other end she then delighted in slipping it into her own wet pussy. With a pop it found purchase nearly inside her and she grinned in satisfaction.

Happy that they were ready, Mary Catherine began chanting the Latin words she had memorized. As she did, the plugs deep inside her and Kat began to glow. Their two bodies became bright purple sources of light. So bright that the other nuns had to shield their eyes.

“Yessss! Yessss! Give me everything! Make me everything she was! Erase the last drop of good in me!” Mary Catherine yelled as the light filled the room.

Then just as quickly as the light had appeared, it disappeared with a whoosh. The nuns in the room all blinked and rubbed their eyes, trying to refocus their vision. Once they had they found only one figure remained where once there had been two.

Mary Catherine stood transformed before them. Everything about her was more emphasized than before. Her hair more purple, her tits bigger, her nails sharper, her face colder, and her power inarguabe. “Mother Superior are you ok? Are you hurt?” Helen asked concerned. Mary Catherine responded by grabbing Helen by her neck and lifting her effortlessly off of the ground.

“Never better. From this day forth you shall refer to me no longer as Mother Superior Mary Catherine, but instead as Goddess Katherine. Understood?” The new goddess commanded and the rest of the sisters all nodded and bowed in respect. Katherine looked at Helen and for a moment contemplated snapping her neck. The thought brought a wetness to her pussy that delighted her but she knew she would need Helen, at least for now and so let her down.

“Thank you Goddess for the pain, I do not deserve your touch.” Helen said sycophantically kneeling before her mistress. Katherine didn’t even pay her much attention and instead walked out of the room into the cool moonlight of the courtyard. She licked her lips as she looked at all the doors belonging to the nuns she had yet to ‘bless’.

“Come along sisters, we have much work to do.” She said with a wicked smile as she strode to the closest door, ready to convert another sister to her flock.

THE END

[magnetic-dogz]

[ ID in alt text]

Went on a hunt to salvage some old art from 2019/2020 from my Twitter and I found this SU comic. I forgot I drew this and it's hilarious