#title first (a v recent change)

[piastrinorris]

this or that, fic writer edition!

oneshots or chaptered fics? fluff, smut, or angst? outlines or winging it? title first or title last? past tense or present tense? background noise or total silence? pc, tablet, phone, or handwritten? in bed, in a seat, or at a table/desk? 2k or 10k? canon ships, rarepairs/crackships, or reader inserts?

[tomssexdoll]

A Second Chance

PAIRINGS: Tom 2014 x Female reader

CONTENT: SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom is a gang member for your dads gang, he used to visit the house to help your dad, often running into you, the conversation only leading so far. One day, at one of your dads gang parties, Tom sees you for the first time in years, you looked so different, so beautiful and confident.

A/N: if you want to be tagged or i accidently missed your tag comment on my pinned masterlist <3 divider creds: @chaemingly

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), eating out, LOTS of teasing

Tom was a gang member under my dads gang, the blue bloods, he had talked me a few times when he'd come over to the house to help my dad, only very few polite words. My dads gang was very high profile and the most notorious in the country, Tom and the other gang members all contributed to maintaining that title.

One day, I was at one of my dads parties, he was celebrating a recent deal that went really well and he got more money than he asked for. It was the first time tom had seen me in 4 years, I was wearing a sexy red dress with black lace and black heels. I straightened my hair and had a simple yet sexy makeup look. I was walking in the party with my friends, laughing and trying to navigate the bar.

Toms eyes widened slightly as he saw me walk in, hardly recognising the gorgeous woman I'd become. He leaned against the wall, trying to act casual but internally cursing my fathers strict no touching rule for his daughter.

I finally made my way to the bar, ordering a vodka redbull on my dads tab, allowing my friends to all order something too. He watched from afar, admiring how confident and beautiful I was. The red dress I wore clung to my curves just right, and my heels made my legs look endless. He took a swig from his whiskey, trying to maintain his composure, "damn.." he mumbled under his breath.

He took another sip of his drink, adjusting the collar of his shirt, trying to remain professional under my fathers presence but my presence made it increasingly difficult. Despite knowing he shouldn't, he walks over to the bar, positioning himself near me.

I kept talking and laughing with my friends, enjoying the unlimited amount of drinks. It wasn't until my friends went off to dance that I noticed Tom, I turned around and looked up, his tall frame towering over me. He leaned against the bar and smirked, "quite the change since the last time I saw you.." he said, "I almost wouldn't have recognised you.." his eyes scanned my figure discreetly.

"Your father would kill me if he knew I was talking to you like this.." he chuckled, his voice dropping to a low, husky tone. My face lit up and I smiled brightly, "mhm, it's been quite a while, you've grown a lot since we last saw each other," I winked "and besides, i'm a grown woman now, he can't control who I speak to, I don't need to be chaperoned everywhere I go," I rolled my eyes playfully.

His smirk widened mischievously, enjoying my confident demeanour. "True..true..But he can still shoot the messenger.." his eyes locked with mine, "I think he'd prefer you rather than some random gangbanger.." I giggled. He raised an eyebrow, "is that so? And what makes you think I'm not a gangbanger," he took a step closer, maintaining eye contact. "You don't know what I do in my free time.." he smirked dangerously.

I rolled my eyes at his attempt to scare me, "you don't scare me Tom," I giggled, shaking my head, "I obviously know you are one but..at least you have better morals than most of the guys here.." His smirk turned into a chuckle, amused by my fearlessness. "Better morals? You make it sound like I'm some saint.." he took a sip of his drink.

"Well you are compared to most people," I smirked and ordered another vodka redbull. His gaze lingered on my lips as I took a sip of my drink. He reached out and gently grabbed my chin, catching me by surprise. He tilted my head up to fully look at him, "you know..I think you're pretty bold, talking to me like this.." he whispered. The attention he gave me made my stomach flutter, I had a crush on him for years and this was the first time ever he was paying attention to me like this.

My boldness was starting to crumble, my shyness creeping in. He noticed the change in my demeanour, he liked it, finding it cute. He knew this confident, bold look was just for show, wanting to impress him. He decides to take advantage of my shyness and pulls me closer, wrapping an arm around my waist.

I felt my cheeks getting hotter and my eyes widening at his sudden move. He leaned in close, his hot breath against my ear as he whispered, "I think I like your bold side better..but this shy side is cute too.." his hand slowly slid down to give my bottom a gentle squeeze before pulling back with a smirk.

I tried to put on my bold act again but it failed miserably, causing me to stammer over my words, "Mhm? W-well she never left," he smirked, "and you're really bad at hiding it," he teased, "you're trying to act all tough, but you can't even look me in the eye without blushing.." he chuckled softly, his arm around my waist pulling me even closer.

I chuckled and smacked his arm playfully, hiding my face, "shut up.." he grabbed my hand, intertwining my fingers with his. "Or what? You going to beat me up?" his free hand traced circles on my lower back. He leaned in close, pressing a gentle kiss to my neck and whispering in my ear, "say..how about we go somewhere more private..hm?"

He guided me discreetly through the crowded party, searching for a quieter spot. Finally he found an empty bathroom, gently walking in with me and locking the door behind him. He pressed me against the bathroom counter, caging me in with his hands on either side of me.

He stared down at me, his eyes locked onto my lips as I bit my lower lip. He could feel the tension between us growing thicker. My chest was heaving slightly, he leaned in, giving me a chance to pull away. "Last change to act all tough.." he mumbled, his voice low and husky.

I grew some confidence and smashed my lips into his, desperately kissing him. He was taken aback by my sudden confidence but quickly returned a rough kiss, pressing his lips against mine firmly. His hands moved to my hips, pulling me flush against him as he deepened the kiss.

He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down my neck, sucking and biting gently. "Fuck.." he mumbled, moving his hands to the strap of my dress. He whispered against my neck, "this dress is dangerous.." tracing a finger along one strap. "One move and it could slip right off.." he smirked, knowing full well what he was doing. "Though I wouldn't mind if it did.." he whispered, moving his hand to the other strap. In one swift motion he dragged them down my shoulders, letting the whole dress fall down to my hips, exposing my barely there bra.

His eyes widened as he took in my nearly naked form, the black lacy bra doing nothing to hide my curves. He reached out and hooked his fingers in the waistband of my dress, lifting my hips with his strong arms and pulling it right off, throwing it across the room.

"Holy fuck.." he mumbled, his hands flying to my bra and practically ripping it off. He hungrily sucked and licked my tits, his hands roaming over my body. He groaned against my skin, his hands squeezing and caressing my bare breasts. He could feel himself grow hard in his pants as he continued to lavish attention on my chest.

Without warning, he got on his knees, grabbing my panties roughly and pulling them off. He spread my legs wide and shoved his face into my pussy. He used his fingers to spread my folds before running his tongue up my slit, my body slightly jolted at the action, making him smirk mischievously.

"You like that huh?" he lifted his head up, "mhmm.." I whined softly, embarrassed by how reactive I was to his actions. "Mmmh.." he chuckled softly, "well, I'm just getting started doll," and with that he buried his face into my pussy again, licking and sucking furiously.

He hooked his arms around my thighs to keep me in place as I moaned and squirmed, my hands desperately trying to find security. I held onto the edges of the countertop, moaning loudly as his tongue feverishly circled my clit.

His tongue continued to work me mercilessly, flicking my clit just the way he knew I'd like it. The sound of my moans only drove him on more, his hands gripping my thighs tighter, his fingernails digging into me, "fuck..you taste amazing baby.." he grumbled, moving his tongue to my hole and pushing it deep inside, his nose rubbing against my clit to heighten the pleasure.

The sounds of me getting wetter and wetter made him impossibly hard. He lapped at my core, wanting to make me cum so hard, like I've never before. He could feel me getting closer, my thighs trembling against his face. "Tom!" I yelped, my hands sliding down and gripping onto his hair tightly, shoving his face into my pussy more.

His face was completely buried in my folds now, his nose and mouth working in tandem to bring me to the brink. He can feel my nails digging into his scalp, pulling his hair tighter. It did hurt but it only spurred him on, he doubled his efforts, hearing me scream in pleasure as my orgasm was quickly approaching.

His intensifying movements drove me crazy, his tongue moved to my clit again and his fingers slid up, he shoved 2 fingers inside my dripping hole and fingered me roughly. "That's it baby, come for me!" he grunted, his voice muffled against my pussy. His hands gripped my hips tightly, holding me still as he brought me closer and closer to my climax.

I screamed out in intense pleasure, my orgasm crashing down. A small stream of clear liquid coming out of me. He lapped up every drop of my release, not wasting a drop. His chest heaved as he stood up, his eyes dark with desire as he shakily undid his belt, "I need to be inside you now.." he mumbled, capturing my lips in a deep kiss, letting me taste myself on his lips.

My hands moved to help him, he slid his belt off and I dragged his pants down. His thick cock pressed against his boxers desperately, a wet patch of pre cum stained on the material. His breath hitched against my lips, he pulled away to shove his boxers down, letting them pool at his feet just like his pants.

His hand wrapped around his hard length, pumping it a few times as he stared at me with heavy lidded eyes. "You're so beautiful...look at what you do to me.." he motioned to his throbbing cock, the tip leaking more precum.

He positioned himself between my spread legs, his throbbing cock pressing against my still sensitive entrance. "Should I fuck you hard, right here on this counter..?" he whispered, his lips tracing along my ear. I nodded and looked up at him, he smirked darkly and stepped closer, grabbing my thighs tightly.

He alinged himself with my entrance, slamming into me hard, filling me completely. I was taken aback, gasping and holding onto him. He chuckled, "too much for you? he pouted dramatically, sarcastically cooing.

I smirked at his teasing, "shut up and fuck me.." I spat out. He shook his head and chuckled, his hips starting to move in a fast punishing rhythm. "Fuck..your tight pussy feels so good around my cock.." he groaned, his fingers digging into my flesh.

I moaned loudly, my chest heaving and my tits bouncing wildly as his pace quickened. Each thrust brought us brought me closer to another orgasm. One hand moved up to catch one of my bouncing breasts, squeezing it roughly while the other hand held my hip steady, "you like that? want me to fuck you even faster?" he panted against my neck, his voice coarse.

"Fuck yes!" I whined, "harder!" he smirked, instantly obliging. He increased his pace once again until he was practically jackhammering into me. He wrapped his arms around my legs, pulling them up higher and onto his shoulders as he continued to pound into me mercilessly. The counter creaked beneath me, the sound mixing with my loud moans and his low grunts.

"You're so loud.." he chuckled, placing rough kisses on my neck, sucking on the skin to leave dark purple hickeys wherever he went. "You like that, hm? You like how my cock slams into you like that..how good it makes you feel..?" he whispered, nibbling softly on my earlobe, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

I let out a loud moan as my answer, nodding my head rapidly. His face contorted in pleasure, his eyes locking onto my as he picks up the pace even more. The sound of his balls slapping against me filled the room, his voice dripping with dominance, "good girl..feel all of me.." he groaned, reaching in between my legs and rapidly rubbing my clit, wanting my orgasm to be big and powerful.

My back was pushing back against the mirror, hitting it roughly from his brutal thrusts. I felt a knot form in my stomach, a signal to my approaching orgasm. "Mmmh! 'M close...don't stop!" I yelped, rolling my eyes back from the intense pleasure.

His movements become almost relentless, hitting that sweet spot deep inside me over and over again, driving me crazy. With one last flick of my sensitive clit and hard thrust my orgasm came crashing down, I practically screamed and held onto the counter tightly, the pleasure coming in furious waves.

He groaned, rolling his eyes back as my orgasm rippled around him, he fucked me through my climax, drawing it out until I was trembling. "That's it..take my cock..ohhh fuck.." he grunted. With a final thrust he buried himself to the hilt and found his own release inside me. He let out one last low, guttural groan, his body shuddering.

After a few moments he slowly lowered my legs and gently pulled out of me, helping me down from the counter. I was absolutely spent, my chest heaving as I tried to calm down from my earthshattering orgasm. He wrapped an arm around my waist to support me, noticing how wobbly I was, "you okay baby?" he chuckled softly, kissing my forehead.

I nodded softly and buried my face into his chest, too tired to even respond. He smiled and grabbed my clothes, setting me back on the counter to help me get dressed. "Don't tell anyone this happened sweetheart, I wanna make it out alive so I can see you again," he smirked, I rolled my eyes playfully, "fine, fine."

tags: @ballhair @bills-wife-1 @bkaulitzlover

tags: @ella1289 @billsdolliest @tomscumdoll

tags: @tomsfuckdoll @tomkslut @miyukafujii

tags: @itsangelll

[cursedcatvibes]

WORLD RECORD!

re4r!incel roommate leon x roommate reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: Incel leon who thinks he’s above women and thinks he’s an alpha male. he’s an absolute piece of shit too.

tags/warnings: 18+ minors DNI! Smut, many many mentions of misogyny. He literally can’t find the clit. P in V, he wrapped it before he tapped it! Incel 😧. quick mention of abuse but it’s not super relevant to the plot. not proofread!

a/n: not much to say other than i cringed so bad trying to write leon’s character, but i was committed, i looked through incel forums on reddit and even got chronically online real quick. also i’m on vacation! so i’m not able to write as much as I want! :( i’ll probably post small drabbles but i will most likely have another full story up in a month considering I cranked out a whole 7k page fic and then now a 3k one. DONT QUOTE ME! Also maybe agent leon x agent reader next. @gettingsilly (my sweetheart who was so hyped about this! here you go my love!)

songs:

pussy - rammstein (highly recommend them)

behind blue eyes - limp bizkit (fun fact; this was the og title of the story!)

rape me - nirvana (this was going to be a non con but i changed my mind)

norwegian wood - the beatles (literally burns the woman’s house down cause she don’t want him😭)

happy reading!

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Handsome. Is the first thing that came to mind when you first opened the door to greet your new roommate, Leon. 

-

The rent was getting out of hand these days and you figured it was a way better deal to split the rent instead of living paycheck to paycheck damn near.

The only downside were the horror stories about roommates and even just random strangers too. It made you feel a bit queasy, but what else could you do, a recently single woman and at the ripe age of 25, technically you were in your prime for all types of creeps and weirdos to try and pull something, especially if you live alone.

So you bit the bullet and put up a craigslist ad, putting it at the back of your mind for now while you went back to getting rid of your ex-boyfriend's belongings. 

You only remembered about it when someone responded to it and after a few messages back and forth you gave the address to him and told him he could move in tomorrow. Feeling a bit proud of yourself for even being able to organize such an arrangement.

-

The first thing you noticed was how absolutely built he was, he definitely went to the gym and it made you feel a little insecure for a brief moment, before you stepped to the side to allow him to enter. “Welcome to your new home!” You beamed, happy with what you’ve done to the place. Completely missing the way his eyes ran up and down your body lewdly. 

He only wanted to have a girl roommate because he figured she would give it up easily or at least flaunt her body off to him, much to his dismay you were wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, not a single ounce of skin showing where he could sculpt your body out. “Prude.” Is what ran through his mind.

“Thanks.” He replied stiffly. “Where is my room at?” Leon asked as he looked around, he was kinda pissed off you didn’t show him any goods. He hated girls who didn’t show off their body, but he hated girls who showed off too much, thought they were just whores looking to get some attention.

So what if he catcalled them? Obviously they were dressing like that for attention and got all pissy when he gave them that attention.

You were oblivious to Leon’s degrading thoughts, too focused on trying to make sure he didn’t try to kidnap or murder you. When he spoke about where he would be staying you perked up and showed him the room while also giving a quick tour of the apartment.

You were even sweet enough to help him unpack all his things once they were all brought in! He owned some interesting objects, a bit uncomfortable to watch him unpack as he had a whole box dedicated to just sex toys. Fake pair of tits that were way too big to even be comfortable on a woman, fake mouth, fake ass, and multiple fake pussy’s. That wasn’t even the worst part of it. 

It got all too freaky when he pulled out hentai figurines that had little to no clothes on, all in lewd poses with lewd expressions on their faces, more specifically ahegao. You could feel the initial attraction from him sizzle down to a mere speck of a flame.

How could someone just own all this stuff so casually, flaunting it like it was a toy race car collection? But Leon didn’t care, fictional cat women were so much better than real women. They couldn't reject him or deny him sex. (Because they quite literally couldn’t, they're inanimate figures.)

He had the straightest deadpan expression on his face and you got the heebie jeebies thinking about what he could’ve possibly done with all these weird toys.”So,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, suddenly feeling like every object of his you touched was just icky. “Where did you say you lived before this?” You asked curiously.

Leon glanced over at you, wondering if you were gonna pull your hoodie off and finally show him your tits if he answered all your questions, he was growing frustrated. Dammit woman! Show him something! He thinks this is the longest he had gone without jerking off or watching a porno. If you weren’t gonna entertain him sexually why were you still bothering him?

“My mom’s. She said something about me needing to move out because I'm too old.” He grumbled out, this gave you a major ick, didn’t this guy say he was 27? He wasn’t struggling to get money when clearly he can afford expensive sex toys and other items. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You replied quietly, to which Leon grunted in acknowledgment.

Once you finished the box you were unpacking you decided the best course of action was to just walk away from this conversation. “It seems like you can handle the rest on your own, I don’t really wanna break any of your computer monitors and stuff.” You said as you stood up from the floor and brushed your hands against your pants.

 “Okay.” Leon hummed, disinterested in  conversation. All he really wanted to do was hurry up and set his computer up so he could jerk off in peace. You leaving his room was a bonus. He didn’t want to be downright rude and kick you out, after all, he is totally a nice guy. Plus he got the opportunity to stare at your ass as you walked out, he could see it jiggling underneath your sweats which was enough to rile him up.

-

You wish you could say it improved from there but unfortunately it did not at all. It only seemed to worsen. Like who the hell is watching porn from the moment they wake up to the moment they fall asleep. It’s all just yucky. The loud and over exaggerated moans that were definitely done for performance and not real. 

The only time Leon would leave his room was to eat or grab some water, he always looked so dazed too, it made you wonder what he was doing in there, you’ve never seen him go to work so it made you curious. 

Leon on the other hand was always so dazed or flustered in the face from the amount of jerking off he does all day. He once ran his dick dry enough to start cumming clear, rubbing himself raw damn near. It’s not like he tried not to get laid, he definitely did. But it never worked.

The way he carried himself was creepy, flaunting the fact he was a nice guy who could give a girl a good time. News flash! If you have to say you’re a nice guy, you're definitely not. Girls often avoided him in middle school and that followed him throughout highschool and even college. So he naturally drifted towards animated women.

He was hot but his personality quite literally sucked, it's like he would attract women because of his looks and as soon as he started speaking they lost interest. But you? You still greeted him every time he came out of his room with a polite smile on your face, offering to cook him something but he always declined because the mere thought of having a woman do something trivial such as cook for him like a traditional woman should, made him hard on the spot.

He had the normal views on life, such as all men do. Women are baby makers, they belong in the kitchen, they should treat their man like a king. It’s not like anyone could change his opinion either. He’s so far into the rabbit hole that his other incels praise him like he was a god, thus only further bursting his massive ego. 

-

You didn’t think much of Leon, not in a harsh way, you just didn’t really know that much about him because you two never spoke like that. All you did know was that he watched porn, maybe a bit too much that was considered normal. It's not like you're shaming him because you watch porn too, but you have some decency, a bit of dignity and pride.

Yet your opinion of him instantly sours when one day he comes out of his room, which reeked with the smell of cum and sweat, the room was humid too, which confused you when you first noticed it. He wore an angry expression on his face as he stomped, yes, like a toddler would, towards the fridge to guzzle down a can of soda. 

You, sitting on the couch mindlessly scrolling through your phone waiting for the time to pass on your off day, you planned to go to a club and slut yourself out to help remind yourself that you’re in fact hot and your ex missed out. Yet when he slammed the fridge door closed that caught your attention, perking your head up like a puppy.

“Uh, you alright?” You asked aloud, watching his eyes snap towards you with a frustrated huff. He figured if you put up with him this long then you must see the same misogynistic views he does about women. “No!” He scoffed out, dragging himself to sit on the couch next to you, like directly. Knees touching and everything.

This piqued your curiosity, maybe you could learn something about him? “What’s wrong?” You questioned as you shut your phone off, sitting up a bit straighter now, putting some distance between the both of you on purpose by grabbing a throw pillow.

Leon then started to rant and you’ve never been more disgusted and horrified in your life before. “I’ve been talking to this really hot chick and we were hitting it off, even had phone sex once or twice but when she asked me who my ideal woman was she ghosted me! Like what's wrong with saying women belong in the kitchen, or doing laundry, or even just cleaning. Women are only here to serve us alpha males.” 

Your nose scrunched up while your face morphed into genuine horror mixed with disgust. Is this seriously his mindset? It must be a joke or something of the sort because no way in hell. “Is.. is this a joke?” You asked, feeling puzzled as you looked around for a hidden camera. Out of all the people you got stuck with, you got stuck with an incel of all people.

Leon stared at you with the most serious face he could muster, he wasn’t kidding, in fact he was getting a bit upset that you were thinking he was joking. “Women are what's wrong with this world! You’re all too soft and so ditzy. You all think men’s feelings are a joke.” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and you swear you can make out a dried cum stain on his clothes. 

You felt so sick and also tickled, you’ve never heard someone or have been around a real life incel before and unfortunately this one came in the form of a super hot guy that wasn’t looking so hot anymore 

“Ew..” You stood up from the couch and stuck your tongue out slightly. “Is that how you see women? No wonder why she ghosted you, you’re a fucking incel.” You scoffed out, to which Leon got offended. “So?! What’s wrong with that?!” He shouted, the tips of his ears turning pink. It was different being scolded by a woman in person rather than over the phone because  he knows they can't hurt him physically but rather verbally. Plus it’s much easier to insult someone online versus real life.

“Do you actually hear the words leaving your mouth?” You questioned, staring him down intensely. Leon tried not to shrink in on himself, it reminded him of his mom telling him that he had done something wrong and now he was in trouble. So he doubled down and sat up straighter too, staring up at you. 

“Yeah, and what about it? Why do women get so butthurt over every little thing?” Leon grunted out, rolling his eyes like a little kid would. You were just astonished that he was willing to keep going even after being confronted with the fact, but you weren’t oblivious to the way his ears were turning red from embarrassment. “Fine, if that’s how you’re gonna be.” You murmured as you sat down on the coffee table right in front of him. His eyes follow your form curiously. If he was being honest the only reason why he actually moved in with you was because he thought you were really hot from your profile picture and even the photo you sent of yourself to prove that you were real, per his request. He jerked off to both photos for hours. (Plus his mom really did kick him out.)

Leon went to question you in hopes of turning the table around to make it backfire on you. Yet as his mouth opened to make another snide remark about women you spoke up first. “Let me be the first one to tell you this, and I mean this too.” You paused as you stared right into his eyes. “No woman is ever gonna have sex with you if you have this mentality and mindset.” You watched his eyes widen a bit and felt some joy come from it.

Leon balled his hands up into fists in genuine anger, a deep part of himself knew she wasn’t lying but the other part was so adamant on her being wrong. Obviously she didn’t know what she was talking about, women never do. “You’re a liar. You’re just jealous.” He scoffed out, narrowing his eyes into thin slits.

You were absolutely not lying.

Far from it actually.

The closest Leon had came to a pussy is on a computer screen, let’s face it. No woman on earth would wanna sleep with such scum such as him, not even prostitutes themselves want to take on such a tedious task. They’d rather kill themselves or have their pimp abuse them than sleep with him.

“Really, name 5 women you’ve had touch you in a romantic way.” You countered, staring into his eyes with an intense expression. Leon opened his mouth to try and smugly name a woman until he realized the answer was 0, he had no names because no one wanted him like that.

It was a blow to his ego and it showed on his face. If he wasn’t such a loser with terrible opinions along with his shitty personality then you would’ve felt bad but you didn’t. It was his own fault.

“That’s not fair.” He grumbled, staring up at you with a slight hurt look on his face. He wanted to get back at you. Make you regret and eat your words. How? Well that problem was quickly answered as he grabbed your wrist and pinned you beneath him on the couch. A yelp leaving your mouth at the sudden movements.

“What the—“ You were suddenly cut off by Leon’s hand slapping over your mouth, he smelled of cum and sweat, it made you wanna gag and throw up on him. “I bet I can make you cum so hard you’ll forget that you were mean to me.” He hissed, his fragile ego was broken because of you!

You furrowed your eyebrows before rolling your eyes. “Whatever.” You said underneath his palm, voice coming out muffled.

Leon smirked and moved his hand off your mouth, gazing lustfully at your body. He seemed confident but on the inside he was screaming at himself. He’s never touched or seen a woman in such an intimate manner in real life. This wasn’t a screen this time.

He gulped and hooked his fingers on the waistband of your sweatpants, he was determined to make you cum if it was the last thing he ever did.

Once he removed your sweatpants he found you commando beneath it. His breath caught in his throat, your mound was glistening beneath the light in the living room. It wasn’t even wet because of him, but he was dumb enough to not know the difference. He stared in awe before looking back up at your face when you cleared your throat awkwardly. “You gonna stare or what?” You questioned.

Leon shook his head before putting his hands on you, gently rubbing your inner thighs. Making you think that for a brief moment he might actually know what he was doing, right up until he pressed his thumb against your lower lips and started rubbing them.

Completely missing your clit.

He felt so aroused and a bit cocky now that he was touching your pussy, his eyes laser focused on your face to see if it was feeling good. He even tried dirty talk too. “Yeah? Does that feel good? I bet it does.” Literally hyping himself up.

You found it hilarious and decided to nod, stifling a laugh as you let out a fake over exaggerated moan he hears in his crappy pornos. Leon let out a soft groan at the sound, his hips bucking up into the air while his cock twitched.

Now, Leon had seen enough porn to know that he needed a condom and lube, obviously they never showed the actors prepping the girls' pretty cunts, they just stuck it in. Spoiler alert, foreplay is hot! None is not.

While Leon ran to his room you took the opportunity to finger yourself, even if you were sure he wasn’t packing much you wanted to be somewhat prepared for a small stretch, you groaned silently, throwing your head back in pleasure, clearly favoring your hand over Leon himself.

When you heard his footsteps you quickly pulled your hand away and watched as he excitedly took his pants off. Wow, so much for knowing how to pleasure a woman. It was funny to watch him struggle to keep it together when he kneeled back between your legs.

“I’m gonna put it in now.” Leon announced, squirting a generous amount of lube on your cunt before (attempting to) rolling on the condom. (You definitely had to help him. The last thing you wanted was to get knocked up by some dimwit.)

He put some lube on his cock, jerking off a bit while looking down at your pussy. Not your face. When he stopped masturbating he slapped the tip of his dick against your clit a few times, your body jolting in pleasure at the sudden sensation.

This immediately boosted his ego and you were in awe he was able to make you feel partially good. He was just daydreaming of how tight and warm your hole was going to feel. His dick wasn’t that big either, it was average length, average size, average balls. Just.. underwhelming and average.

“What’re you waiting for?” You murmured, snapping him out his trance briefly before he cleared his throat. “J-Just trying to brace you for my cock, it’s big right?” Leon questioned, feeling a bit insecure but he wanted you to make him feel better, feel like a man. That was a woman’s purpose after all.

“Yes (no).” You sighed out breathily, keeping up your act, dragging your nails down his body gently, causing him to shudder and nod with a smug look on his face. He pushed himself in fairly easily, considering your ex-boyfriends cock was much bigger and overwhelming, accidentally clenching down around Leon’s sad excuse of a penis which riled him up, thinking you had came.

You definitely missed his dick and now was stuck with some crappy one attached to a misogynistic freak. A soft sound of discomfort left your lips and Leon took it as a sign that you were enjoying it. You must love it! He was so confident in himself!

So confident that after 5-6 thrusts he spilled inside the condom, talk about a minute man. He was a millisecond man. His whole body spasmed from euphoric bliss, he had never cum this hard in his life before, burying his face in your neck, sloppily kissing at your skin because he couldn’t kiss for the life of him.

You were stunned someone could cum so quickly, that had to be a world record or something. Quickest man to cum after sticking it in or some random ass title, you hadn’t realized you had zoned out about the Guinness record book until Leon pulled his cock out from inside you, feeling good about himself.

He was panting softly from the intensity of his orgasm, leaning back against the couch to gaze at your pretty pussy, he wanted to eat you out too, wanting to show you he was good orally too.

“Was it good? Did you cum too?” Leon said as he stared into your eyes, wanting to hear you sing his praises and take back your harsh words that hurt his feelings. Almost like a puppy waiting for its owner to praise them for pissing outside the house instead of inside.

You grabbed your clothes and put them back on, smirking as you stared him dead in the eye. “No, I didn’t cum.” You snickered as his face dropped, kissing his forehead quickly. “Sucks to suck, Leon.” You said casually, getting up to go to your room and nap.

Leon sat on the couch stunned beyond relief, his cock kicking against his thigh as he watched you.

He swore under his breath that you were lying and you did cum, after all, delusion is key, and delusion is what made him become your roommate to begin with.

[multiwreckedmess]

February Filth Fest Day 22

Prompt: Masturbation Pairing: Gymrat!Yeosang x fem!reader WC: 1,760 Summary: Yeosang has an embarrassing problem. Have you ever heard of a core-gasm?

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Yeosang or any Ateez member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. By clicking the “Read More” you agree that you are of age to interact with my works.

TW/CW: Male masturbation, sort of subby Yeosang, lots of praise for yeosang, yeosang called handsome and big boy, reader called “hot” and has breasts. tbh not much to warn about.

 Yeosang has started wearing two pairs of pants to the gym. It’s not really a notable change to anyone, simply adding some compression leggings to a pair of sweats or loose shorts wasn’t revolutionary fashion. If anyone asked, he’d planned to joke that it was “pump cover” or something like that. As if the problem was that easily explainable.  No no, the problem had only started recently, as he worked to define his abs further. Yeosang wanted to fulfill his title of the “statue of Ateez '' to perfection. It was the addition of hanging leg lifts, pushed into the workout by his trainer, that were the culprit. Meant to better define his v-cut and improve his posture, it seemed the exercise provided other less welcome effects. In particular and perhaps most curiously, was seemingly spontaneous orgasm.  Almost always on the 2nd to last rep of the final set, as Yeosang trembled and fought against gravity, he’d feel the familiar dangerous twinge in his core. Unable to stop it, endorphins would flood him as warmth spread into his underwear. The first time it happened he jogged to the locker room to change, horrified at the thought that he’d pissed himself. It wasn’t, he hadn’t. Instead sticky white clung to him as he peeled back his clothing. Embarrassing.  And then it happened again, two days later. And it kept happening, not every time but enough. Enough that Yeosang had to wear two pairs of pants to hide the stain as it soaked through.  “I like those pants!” You remark as you pass Yeosang who is drinking feverishly from his water bottle. Track pants with snaps up the sides to the very top, mostly unfastened, allowing the fabrics to billow between his legs. “Very ‘Magic Mike’ if you wanted to just rip them off. Heeeyaw!” You mimic the motion and giggle.  Yeosang chuckles and nods, but you’re already halfway to another machine. He watches you out of the corner of his eye as you work in between sets together. Energetic yet reserved, friendly but solitary. In a way you remind him of Wooyoung. You have more of an ass though, and certainly more of a bust. He chides himself for noticing, it’s indecent of him to ogle, but it’s hard to miss how the tight spandex hugs every curve so beautifully.    “The way you’re staring at me I’m gonna think you want to fight me or fuck me,” you blurt in passing from machine to machine. Yeosang’s ears go red and he stammers.  “So sorry,” his eyes burn holes in the floor. “I was just spacing-” you’d already moved on to your set, but he keeps going, keeps apologizing and stuttering and blushing. For some reason he can’t stop himself from it, having so egregiously breached so many unspoken rules of the gym recently, he rambles on like a kid in a confession booth for the first time.  Pausing mid set, you laugh, startling him. “You’re actually really cute for a gym bro.”  This stops him, looking up at you again incredulously. “I’m not aiming for cute!”  Your eyes are kind, “oh? So you’re just naturally flusterable?” You ask as you giggle.  Yeosang’s mouth flaps open and closed, unable to form a coherent sentence.  “Okay handsome, I’m going to go finish up on the treadmill if it’s all the same to you.”  It’s your turn to stare as Yeosang finishes up his workout, rounding out with leg raises. He’s really beautiful when he does each exercise, nose crinkling with effort as his muscles shake. Closing his eyes and knitting his brow, his pouty lips begin to tremble, jaw slackening. All of his muscles seem to seize at the top of the leg lift, eyes flying open as he lets out the most pitiful whine.  Yeosang’s expression changes from pleasure to panic as you look at each other. He starts to try to scuttle away, tail between his legs as he strategically speed walks to the locker room.  The room has never felt farther than it does as Yeosang feels you breathing down his neck. The sanctuary of the men’s locker room where he can clean up the mess he’s made both literally and figuratively. Maybe even cancel his membership as he sits in a stall.  A small hand with a firm grip gets his shoulder as he reaches the door.  “Did you just cum?”  “Don’t ask that so loud,” he whimpers. “Someone could hear you.”  “Who? The teen at the front desk with his headphones in? There’s not exactly a ton of people here right now. But wait,” you shake your head, “you didn’t answer, did you cum?”  Feet stuck to the ground by a supernatural magnetic force, Yeosang nods shamefully with a high pitched whine. “It just happens sometimes, it’s not- I’m not a perv.”  “But you aren’t even hard,” you start to wonder aloud, eyes locking to the crotch of his pants. Yeosang is fully flushed, beat red from his chest to the tips of his ears.  “I know, it’s so-it looks like I-” Yeosang stutters, his cock twitching in interest so suddenly he jolts a bit more upright. It’s a small comfort that if anything you look fascinated by him instead of horrified or angry. Your hand migrates down his arm, tracing a vein from his bicep to his wrists where he fears you can feel his pulse pounding wildly.  “Show me. Can you do it again?”  Yeosang’s eyes roll back as blood flows into his rapidly engorging member. If the post workout high didn’t have him dizzy, this certainly did. The husky purr to your tone melodically curling around his ears. It’s the opposite reaction that he’d never planned for. All of the time he’d rehearsed in his head what to do if someone noticed but never had he thought about if a person wanted him to do it again. He starts to shake his head, he’d only ever done it once a workout. “You wanna see me cum?”  “I’m sorry if i’m being too forward but I’m-I’m interested,” you stammer, the weight of your question finally hitting you like a ton of bricks. “I thought you-sorry if i misread-”  It’s Yeosang’s turn to panic, eyes wide as his hands spread open palmed in front of him. “Ah! No! I’m-I’m-you’re-” he gulps, mouth dry as the desert. Brow furrowing he doesn’t even register the decision he makes. It happens so fast. He tugs you with him, back pushing through the locker room door, into a stall. “I’ve only ever done it once like that but I can-”  “I could help!” You offer as you watch him tug his first layer of pants off his body. There’s a large splotch, not obvious on the black fabric from afar but mere inches away its hard to miss the shiny dampness of the area. Instinctively you reach forward to touch him, already at half mast and growing.  Yeosang nearly yelps, “no! If you do I’ll-” the blush on his cheeks darkens, “you’re really hot.”  You smirk, “okay then handsome, I’ll watch.”  Unceremoniously, Yeosang tugs the second pair of shorts and his boxers down to his thighs, the mess of cum and sweat still coating his pubic area and cock. Purple and blue veins run prominently up his member all the way up to the flare of his red tapered tip. He pulls his tight black tanktop up enough to expose the muscles of his torso. Taut abs, defined vlines and muscles you didn't even know the name of all on full display as he drags his fingers up the underside of his shaft.  “God you’re beautiful,” you murmur, sinking to your knees in front of him.  His eyelids flutter and quads tense, the refractory period is much shorter than he thought. “Ah! Ha, you-you-too,” Yeosang gasps and giggles at the same time, leisurely pumping his cock. “Your tits are really-oh my god- from here- they’re so-” he shudders and gasps, a weak spurt of precum erupting from the tip.  You scoot closer to better admire him. His hands are just as veiny, large around his equally girthy member. “Where’d you hide all that?”  He whines a tiny high pitched sound from the back of his throat. You can see his abs tense and kick his diaphragm up as a wave of endorphins hit. Almost a direct opposite of his ripped physique, the vocalizations that escape him are small and squeaky, the product of both pain and pleasure.  “You like it when I call you handsome? When I tell you how big and thick your cock is?”  “Ghnughn- yes,” he chokes back a moan. The praise immediately goes to his head, his grip tightens and pace speeds up.  “Moan more for me, you sound so pretty.”  A guttural groan escapes from him as he shakes, followed shortly by a hiccuped inhale. “I’m close.” His cock is almost purple with engorgement, precum flowing out of the tip easily. Hips working in tandem with his fist, the sounds of his whining and mewling that flood the bathroom are unmistakable.  “Hurry, cum. Cum for me,” you urge him, scooting just a bit closer, close enough to feel the warmth of the air around him.  “Shit- wha-where-”  “On me on my face on my tits, wherever you want, big boy, coat me in it.”  The twinge of desperation in your voice sets him off. He’s beautiful when he cums, head tilting back to expose his muscular neck and sharp jaw, drawn out high pitched whimper is the cherry on top. A forceful jolt of release erupting forth from him and coating your cheek, hot and sticky. The next spurt drops from your jawline to your tits which is quickly followed by another volley aimed squarely at the center of your chest.  Yeosang’s vision swimming he could swear he still saw you slowly rubbing the liquid against yourself, lifting a finger to your mouth to clean it with your tongue. The thought makes him nearly black out, hand slamming into the wall of the stall to catch his balance.  “Which locker is yours?” Your breath is hot on his ear. He didn’t even know you’d stood up. His head swims again under the spell of your proximity.  “117.”  “Wait a sec before you come out, it’ll look less suspicious.”  He nods, and collapses back onto the toilet, he needs to collect himself anyway. The entire encounter feels like a fever dream, it’s not until your note falls out of his locker that he starts to concede maybe it wasn’t.

Sorry this is so late. Lightly based on someone at some point saying “what if Yeosang cums when he works out.” I don’t remember where i saw this but whoever you are, yeah, what if?

[palequeeeeen]

Are we, or are we not getting a Murder Drones Season 2?

So, the teaser for episode 8 states that the episode is the finale for the series. However, there have been quite a few different instances that would imply the existence or planned existence of a second season.

When the teaser for murder drones’ first season originally dropped, it teased ‘murder drones season one’, implying that there would be more than one season, and that this would be the first. If they had planned for there to only be one season, they would have/should have titled it something like ‘murder drones: the series’ or just ‘murder drones’ as they have done more recently.

There have also been different instances of the team behind murder drones mentioning this being the first season, not the only season. The most important instance of this is when Liam Vickers mentioned that season one was for the show to find its footing for future seasons, which is now a seemingly false statement.

At some point in the show's development, I believe around the time ep. 5 or 6 released, the language around murder drones changed, not mentioning it as being the first season anymore, and just being murder drones.

This was also around the time or just before Glitch started to take on more shows, like The Amazing Digital Circus and Lackadaisy. They started to imply that murder drones would only have one season around this time.

Now, most of my thoughts are just speculation, but I think that after the success of TADC and Glitch taking on a few other shows, they had stretched themselves too thin, and something had to give. 

I'm not saying all the other shows that Glitch is making ended Murder Drones. This could have been the plan from the start, and they were using the wrong wording early on and gave us all false hope. But, I think that there is the possibility that Glitch had to let murder drones end earlier than everyone would have liked.

Again, this is all speculation, could be totally false, and probably is. Don't harass any creators associated with Glitch, Glitch themselves, or any voice actors that work for them.

But, I do think that there is a small, very small, chance that we could still be getting a season two after all, especially if we end on a cliffhanger or downer ending. When Meta runner season 2 ended, i believe it was called a series finale at the time, but it got a third season two years later! It's very, very, unlikely, but we could keep our hope up for about a year or two before I say it could be gone for certain. This could also be a temporary shelving of the series while they work on the other shows, as some other people have pointed out. I could return in a few years with an anthology series or something. (I swear it's not the copium talking)

Again, don't harass Glitch or any of their associates. We definitely won't get a season two if we're asses about it. Besides, like Michael Kovach said in a recent livestream (I think?), N at the very least is probably gonna pop up again with how popular he is, so our boy won't be gone forever, and I think Uzi and V won’t be too far behind him.

[tallulahneale]

Title: You play too much

Pairing: Vince staples x fem!reader

Summary: Home girl who loves to get ate but doesn’t suckie suckie and wants to prove Vince wrong.

Word count: 1k

a/n: Where are all the Vince Staples lovers at?!?!

Tagline: “I’m not selfish”

Friday night and all the guys on your roster had served their purpose. Eating you out. You enjoyed it more than any other intimate act. So with nothing to do, you hit up your homeboy Vince. You and Vince go back since kindergarten, kinda drifted apart during high school but y’all reconnected during college.

You check the time, 5:18pm. “It’s not that late and chick-fil-a has drive-in perfect!” You thought to yourself. You reach for your phone to call Vince, he’s a homebody so you know he’ll be down to kick it with you.

*Ring ring*

“Hello?” Vince answers.

“Can you pick up some chick-fil-a pleaseeee? I’m peckish and bored.”

“Hello to you too nigga. Get you some manners”

You pause. You know he’s serious and you don’t like that.

“…”, ignoring what he said.

“… y/n, I know you can hear me” he continues, sounding unbothered.

“I want ice tea this time please. Ohh and the new honey pepper sandwiches! Thank youuu”

“Why you always like this bruh? FYI, you need some salad in your diet…”

“Hey! Be Nice!”

“Says the person that can’t even say hello.”

This nigga always doing the most, you thought to yourself.

“You’re coming over anyway so I’ll say hello when you get here. Killing two birds with one stone.” You replied smartly.

“Whatever cuh, I’ll be at yours around 6.”

“Okay; thank youuuu! Byeeee!”

“See you so-“

*Click*

You cleaned up around the flat and went to freshen up. Changing into your nightgown, the one that kept granny pregnant and all her bills paid! It’s extra comfy and you didn’t want to tease Vince. Recently, he’s been calling you out on a lot of your bs and you didn’t want to hear it today. Plus you knew you weren’t going out, once Vince came you’ll probably watch movies till you fall asleep.

The buzzer rings and you press the intercom, already knowing it’s Vince. You look at your outfit one more time to make sure you look presentable.

*Knock knock*

You open the door and see the bag of food on your welcome mat.

“I know damn well he didn’t just drop my food on the mat like I’m a raccoon.”

Vince jumps out the corner, startling you.

“Vince! Don’t do that! You know how I be spazzing out!” You give him a hug, “How have you been?”

Vince picks up the bags and follows you in.

“I’ve been good you know. Just getting ready for the Black in America Tour and the new season of the show, you know the usual.”

“I hear that! I’m hella excited for all of it, you really deserve all and more!”, you beam.

“I really appreciate that and you too cuh. You the homie for real.” He said giving you a hug before settling down on the couch.

“You’re welcome. You can pick what to watch, I’ve just been watching re-runs and I’m bored of them too.”

“Alright, but don’t complain when I pick one of my favourite 80s show.”

You grab a plate and a tray for the food. Just as you set it on the table, you hear your phone ringing. You check to see Peter Peter pumpkin eater calling. Vince sees it too and shakes his head. “Here we go again”, you thought to yourself.

“Why are you shaking your head like that?” You ask, knowing he’s about to say the truth that you’ve been avoiding.

Vince stares straight at you with an unimpressed expression “Why you save his name like that?” He says.

“You know why V, don’t make me say it.”

Sometimes you feel shy talking about intimate things with him, maybe because you know he’s cute but he’s your homeboy and you want to respect that boundary.

“First of all, that’s weird because the story is about a husband whose wife cheats and doesn’t know how to keep her. Secondly, I’ve seen Marcus the muncher, Louis the licker and Simon the sucker all call you before. Y/N you are creative af but you’re still wrong for all that.”

“You bet not be judging me like you don’t have a list of girl names saved worse and anyway, why you be looking at my phone. Mind your business sometimes” you say, feeling heated and a bit embarrassed.

“I know you’re still doing the “get licked and get kicked” out. Selfish ass.”

“I’m not selfish!” You exclaim.

“…”

“… I’m not! Quit tryna get me to feel guilty. You know what, I’mma prove you wrong. Tired of you being all high and mighty.”

You go to sit down on the couch right beside him, staring shyly into his eyes. He looks back at you with an intense smouldering expression. You’re not sure what he’s thinking so you ignore it. You gently run your fingertips across his bare arms, tracing his veins which draw your attention more than usual. You wink at him again before looking away. You bend over, arching your back closer to his zip, slowly pulling down, you realise that his little big friend is awake. Just as you’re about to pull it out, you look up and whisper to him…

“I told you I’m not selfish.”

You smirk and sip your ice tea.

——The End——

[1moreff-creator]

hii!! so idk if you saw, but i recently posted a theory abt how xander and eden were survivors from a previous killing game.

you’re super cool and smart so i was wondering what you thought of it lol

(this sounds like free promo for my theory but i promise it isn’t)

(i just want opinions on it bc i can’t tell if i did a good job or not)

Hey there! Yeah, I saw it, and I think it’s a pretty good theory! I enjoyed reading it, your writing style is fun. Below are my full thoughts on it. For anyone else, please read the original first, this is going to be incomprehensible otherwise.

Also don’t worry about looking like you’re “promoting” your theory. It’s Tumblr, no one gains anything here, we all just lose. What would you even use the promotion for lol.

Also also you people have gotta stop giving me so many compliments it’s feeding my god complex /j

CW: Violence and blood, death, Danganronpa V3 Spoilers

[Background]

Admittedly, I don’t know how literally connected V3 is supposed to be to this whole situation, given the difference in the settings and the like. Especially since Teruko’s only mentioned remembering “that other killing game”, implying she doesn’t know about the 50 others despite vaguely knowing about the THH one. However, it is perfectly valid to bring up V3 as a meta point (which I think is what you’re doing?); the idea exists, so DRDTdev could have certainly taken it for DRDT. In any case, it sure is an interesting premise!

[The Survivors]

[Xander Matthews]

“[Post]: he has the personality for self-sacrifice.” True!

[For the sake of clarity, I refer to this scene as “the pre-prologue scene”, given that we see it before the Prologue title card appears]

““Them” could be the other people in the killing game. [...]

And, most of all, he says that he has to end the killing game. How the hell would he end a killing game without having been in one? (don’t answer that)”

I mean, solid reasoning! The idea that Xander was actively in a killing game while this scene happened has been thrown around, such as in my “original killing game” theory that we don’t talk about ‘cuz it was insane, because it’s a pretty reasonable conclusion to draw from the dialogue, as you said. For a while now I’ve sorta assumed that Xander was speaking of ending the killing game before it began, but there’s both semantic arguments to argue your theory and that one. The way Xander speaks in pre-prologue seems to imply the killing game is already underway, which is a point to you, but the secret David received mentions “The killing game is all your fault,” potentially implying there’s only ever been one modern killing game (“modern” as in, after THH). I think the idea of Xander actively being in a killing game in pre-prologue is stronger, though, I’m only bringing this up to account for all possibilities.

And “them” could be whoever so :p

[Xander Picture]

“When was this?

Why would he be in the same outfit, while having both eyes?

It makes sense if he was in a previous killing game, doesn't it?”

Well I mean. It could be. It could also just be from the time the cast (or most of it at least) was in the same Hope’s Peak class. Keep in mind all the outfits the characters were using at the start of the prologue are the same as the outfits they first went to Hope’s Peak with, as otherwise they’d have pointed out that their clothes changed between the moment they “lost consciousness” (the last moment of their memories, which is going to Hope’s Peak) and their appearance in the killing game place.

So, I propose that, seeing as it originated from LGI, this image could just be the first time David actually met Xander in person, or some other notable memory between the two of them. Of course, I have no evidence for this as much as there’s no great evidence for your take either. Basically I’m just saying this isn’t a very strong point in my books, but it’s not like I know any better than you what’s going on here :v

[Eden Tobisa]

“First of all, there’s the similarities between her handwriting and the handwriting of the note that Xander received. [...]

The T’s are the same, the E’s are the same, the A’s are the same. Don’t deny that it’s a strong, and the most likely, possibility.”

Uh… I don’t agree :v

I’ll give you the i’s and maybe the capital T’s, but I think the e’s and the a’s are too different for me to really consider it a possibility. It’s hard to explain this, so I’ll try to make some Paint diagrams to exaggerate the differences to get my point across.

-The T’s are pretty similar, but Eden’s have a slight curve towards the bottom, which the other note’s T’s seem to lack. In the diagram, you’ll find the recreation of Eden’s letters to the left, and the recreation of the “kill Teruko” note’s letters on the right.

-The e’s in Eden’s handwriting have a circular head, while the other note’s is almost triangular.

-Similarly, Eden’s a’s are a bit more circular than the note’s, which are sharper and triangular.

This all leads me to believe that the dev explicitly used different fonts for the two (assuming they dev used a text writing tool and didn’t draw the notes by hand, which I feel is a reasonable assumption). When coupled with the fact that Eden could potentially have been defending Teruko in pre-prologue (unless there’s more context we’re missing, Xander wanted to kill Teruko & Eden attacked Xander -> Eden didn’t want Teruko to die), I don’t think Eden wrote that note. Sorry :v

[Eden CG]

Now this is evidence of Eden being in the same killing game as Xander (of course, assuming Xander even was in a killing game in pre-prologue in the first place, which is as of yet unconfirmed). The CG itself heavily implies Xander and Eden were in the same place when the whole eye-fork situation happened, being that Eden is the person who hurt Xander before the pre-prologue scene (pre-pre-prologue?). If that happened in a killing game, then clearly, Eden was there!

“Why would the two of them have images of their past selves wearing the exact same outfits?

Oh, wait a second.

In V3, we see Rantaro’s past self. He was wearing the same outfit that he did in the killing game. And he was a member of a past game too.

And it’s not like we haven’t seen them in other outfits. Xander has been seen in another outfit in his bonus episode.”

I mean. As I mentioned, the characters probably just frequent these outfits, given they were wearing them when they first went to Hope’s Peak. The Eden thing is a bit more notable because, unlike Xander’s which could just be from any point of Hope’s Peak time, that image has to be from the pre-prologue situation. But the idea that she was wearing that because it’s just an outfit she wears often isn’t too far fetched to me. This isn’t a point against your theory, I just don’t personally find the outfits to be the most convincing point of evidence for it.

[Eden’s secret]

“Why is this secret so mundane? (At least in comparison to the others)

Wouldn’t it make more sense to say something about what she did to Xander?

Of course, that could just be because they didn’t want her to know about something she did during the missing year.

But it could also be because it happened during the last killing game.

That one’s a stretch but I just thought I’d put it out there.”

Well, you recognize it’s a stretch, and I agree. If Eden doesn’t remember the Xander thing, then the secret which would be most effective for her would be something different, and apparently she doesn’t really have many serious secrets outside of her sexuality. Keep in mind these secrets don’t necessarily have to be the worst thing the person in question did, as stated by Veronika in 2-13.

“Why specifically these two?

Dev didn’t have to post the colored picture of Xander.

It’s clearly important.

Same for Eden.”

Also not a point for Xander imo. Dev posts a lot of stuff that isn’t necessarily important, such as the Veronico Christmas comic or the “long hair style” images. That is to say, dev posting it isn’t sufficient evidence of something’s importance, you gotta find something important in the content itself to claim that.

And even if the image is important, it could be important in a different way. There is the whole “why does someone turn their back on who they’re talking to” caption or whatever, which could for example be trying to draw a connection between David and Xander in this scene and Mai and Teruko in the 1-6 dream sequence, among other interpretations.

But that’s Xander. I will agree with you that the Eden one is important because it appears in the main series and has a clear connection to the pre-prologue, though.

“Why would he say this?

Unless he knew Teruko in the past, of course.

My guess is that Teruko was named the mastermind during his game. Whether or not she actually appeared, who knows. But she was to blame (supposedly) (to his knowledge) for the killing game. And apparently, killer her would do something important.

This ties in to the note that told Xander to kill Teruko as well!”

I would actually argue that Xander in the pre-prologue doesn’t think Teruko is the mastermind, because “ending the killing game” and “killing Teruko” are two separate goals. If you assume that killing the mastermind ends the killing game (which is a fair assumption I think), and Xander believes Teruko is the mastermind, then what he says is “I have to end the killing game. And even if I can’t do that, I have to end the killing game a different way.” Doesn’t really track does it?

But “ending the killing game” and “killing Teruko” do seem to be aligned goals, at least, so it makes sense to think that Xander believed she had some sort of involvement in it, which is sufficient for your theory I think. Of course, this is very speculative, we don’t know a lot about why exactly Xander wanted to kill the girl.

Btw, what is Teruko’s deal in your theory? Is she another “sacrifice”, a recycled mastermind or traitor of some kind, or someone who was known to the participants of the previous killing game but didn’t participate until the one seen in DRDT? I feel like that ended up a bit unclear lol.

“Who do we think were the survivors of their game?

My first guess was maybe a couple of the AltDRDT characters, but I’m not sure.”

I mean yeah, there’s kinda no one else we can really point to lol. As you said, it’s a guess, so I’m not gonna bother you about the lack of evidence, but yeah. That is a lot of survivors, though, so I’m gonna guess that if this theory is right, the survivors of the old killing game are other people who are probably unknown as of yet.

Overall, a really neat read, and a fun theory! Pretty plausible, too, at least the idea of the pre-prologue killing game and Xander and Eden (and Teruko?) being in it. I disagreed on some points, but that’s only natural with highly speculative things like this. I thought the post itself was well written with a pretty unique style, easy to understand (even if I feel some points could have used a bit more elaboration, but that might just be me), so there’s that. Hope this was enough, thanks for the ask!

[starker-raving-mads]

For You: Part III

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

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It was two months since the day Peter Parker's life changed for the second - third - fourth time.

He'd gotten more sleep over the last month than he had in the previous two months. It was partly due to sheer, never-ending exhaustion. His life since taking on the mantle as 'the new Tony Stark' - a title he balked at, mind you - had become pure chaos. At first, it was a relief. The instantaneous knowledge that money was no longer a problem. May could quit her job and devote her time to FEAST, he could complete his honors-GED (which many of the Blipped teenagers had chosen to do) and immediately hop into online college courses at Columbia with Ned and MJ.

Immediately following that relief, though, was his face splashed across every newspaper, tabloid, blog, and TikTok page in America.

He would never say it, and he couldn't prove it, but he was 99% sure it was Pepper's doing. After her initial outburst at the lawyer's offices, he'd hardly heard from her. His lawyers - god, his lawyers - had advised that he shouldn't respond to any comments on the subject of Pepper Potts being snubbed by her husband for Peter's heir status. While she had no legal leg to stand on since Tony's will was air tight and definite, that didn't stop her from digging her claws into all the ways she knew would hurt him.

Every time he saw something outrageous with his face on it on an article somewhere, he had to remind himself that she was grieving and in pain about a perceived betrayal by her husband. Her husband, who was Tony Stark, who did not belong to him.

No matter that the man had figured out time travel for him, had risked the universe, had given him billions of dollars and the most coveted job in the entire world. Tony only gave him this because there wasn't anyone else better that he trusted, but Peter knew that didn't mean he was Tony's true first choice, and he had to squash every niggling feeling and whisper of a thought that said he was. It would only make it hurt more when all he wanted was the pain to stop.

He'd finally found a moment, though, where things weren't quite as bad. He'd recently reconvened with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Rhodey and they had a steady if not solid pact. They were all unsure of the situation, still, and Peter didn't blame them. He'd been…questioned, more politely than Pepper had done, on how he and Tony's relationship had unfolded.

When he'd explained that he was 14 when he met Mr. Stark, Steve and Bucky both winced, apologizing for the disaster that was Germany but Peter shrugged it off. He really hadn't been hurt and it was a foundational moment for his and Mr. Stark's relationship. He couldn't bring himself to regret it.

After that, they'd had a few meals together, talked more about his life - and theirs, to an extent, though he was far more privy to them than they had been of him.

"He never mentioned you," Steve said, shaking his head, baffled. He held a cool beer in his hand, leaning back from the patio table they had gathered around at the newly rebuilt SHIELD headquarters in upper state New York.

"Oh he mentioned Pete to me all right," Rhodey disagreed before reaching over and ruffling his curls lightly. Peter liked Rhodey, liked how hands-on he was, how relaxed but also somehow by the book, liked his humor. He could see how he and Tony had been such good friends. "But he'd only told me about his 'brilliant new intern'," they all chuckled. "He really kept the whole Spider-Man thing close to the chest."

"I'd asked him to," Peter admitted, peeling the wrapper off of his bottle of lemonade. "First because I was still like so young, yo know? And then later, after a few - pretty major - mistakes I made, I guess he thought I'd proved I was finally ready to be an Avenger."

"Well I never heard Tony trying to recruit anyone," Rhodey commented and they all looked at him quizzically.

Peter let out a single huffed laugh. "Yeah, uh," he tried to keep down the blush rising on his neck. "You remember the day that Mr. Stark proposed to Ms. Potts?" Rhodey and Sam both laughed long and hard.

"Even over in Wakanda we saw that," Sam chuckled. "It was the Tony Stark special - a huge thing wrapped in a tiny, chaotic package. Not unlike yourself," he raised his eyebrows at Peter, who flicked his bottle wrapper at him.

"Pepper had no idea it was coming," Rhodey agreed before taking a long drink of his own beer.

"Yeah, well I don't think Mr. Stark had really…planned it," he grimaced. At their faces, he continued. "He'd taken me up to Stark Tower and gave me this speech about having graduated to the 'big leagues' after my last big wrap up," he shrugged. "He gave me the Iron Spider suit and said I was ready to be an Avenger." He frowned, rubbing at the glue and paper residue on his bottle. "And I told him that I just wasn't ready yet. That I needed to stay in Queens for a while more, be the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Help the little guy, you know?" He raised earnest eyes up to the group and they all nodded, slowly. "So I asked him to just keep helping my identity to stay quiet," he shrugged.

"So, then what happened?" Bucky asked, long hair tilting with the rest of his head in curiosity. He didn't speak up often, but when he did, it was always because of something he really wanted to know.

"The next thing I knew I was being ushered downstairs to wait at the car for Happy," he shrugged. "I pulled out my phone and there on live broadcast Mr. Stark was proposing to Ms. Potts at a press conference." He chuckled. "It was - really, really weird."

He expected everyone else to laugh with him, but he was met with contemplative silence. He looked around at each of them before Rhodey finally met his gaze. "What?"

"I think," the older man said slowly, "that press conference was meant to be for your reveal as Spider-Man."

"No way - I mean," he shook his head as the rest of the guys started nodding their heads, agreeing thoughtfully. "He wouldn't propose to her just because - just because I said no to - "

" - to his proposal," Bucky finished.

It was another revelation that Peter could hardly bear the weight of. These things kept stacking and he wasn't sure how to balance all this knowledge he had, about the things Tony had done - and undone - for him. This one, though…this new information didn't hurt, not like the others did.

It actually made a strange amount of sense. At once, it both stung to feel like he was replaced with Ms. Potts so immediately, but also it was like the first fresh breath after being buried underground for so long to know that Peter's answer that day was so important to him that the only thing he could possibly trade it out for in equivalency was getting engaged.

Did this mean that if Peter had said yes Mr. Stark wouldn't have gotten married? It made his head spin, but it also made his heart lighter than it had been in weeks.

Light enough to finally enter the last bastion of refuge that Tony Stark ever took comfort in.

His lab.

Despite being uninhabited for who knew how long, when the familiar glass doors slid open the air wasn't musty, stale, or any such thing. It was as fresh and crisp as it ever was. Off in the corner the long L shaped couch that he and Mr. Stark had often collapsed into opposite ends of, exhausted, lay half-made with fluffy pillows. The coffee pot was empty but clean, and every other available surface covered in notes either figuratively, having been decorated with papers scribbled on with hundreds of lines of equations and code, or literally, like the side of Peter's work station, where he'd dropped to a crouch to finish writing something out when he ran out of paper, mid-idea. He knew he could've just kept writing mid-air thanks to the lab's complete holographic setup, but it wasn't the same as having something solid under your hands.

There was pain in the familiarity of the lab but there was also a feeling of home he hadn't quite gotten the first time he stepped back into his and May's apartment. Plus -

"Hello, Peter."

"Friday!" He exclaimed, smile breaking wide across his face. With a pang, he didn't realize just how much he'd missed the AI until this moment.

"Yes, Peter?" the AI asked, voice warm and if he dared to think it, amused.

"Nothing, nothing, I'm just excited to see you again," he chuckled, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He started walking around the lab, taking it all in for the first time in what, to him, had been months. The longer he thought about that the more his brow furrowed. "Hey Friday?"

"Yes, Peter? Or would you like me to call you Boss as Tony had?"

"Oh! Um," he shook his head. "No, no Peter's fine, or whatever."

She hummed. "Would it be all right if I picked a name for you, Peter? Being able to distinguish between Boss and Others by a more specific title helps me with my internal hierarchy and understanding of individuals. If you would prefer I do not, though, merely say such."

"I mean if it helps you then, yeah, sure I guess."

"Thank you, Mini Boss," she said. He laughed again.

"You might wanna work on that," he smiled wide.

"Yes, I think it might take me some time, Father."

His eyes widened. "Father?"

"Hm, you're right," she said. "Boss was more like my Father, I suppose."

"Uh, yeah, definitely," Peter nodded. He gave her a beat to let her figure out what she wanted to call him as he walked over to his desk. He'd let her go through her process before he started asking the questions that sat burning in his mind.

"Would you be opposed to me calling you Mother, Peter?" Friday asked. He spun in his chair, smile wide again.

"If Tony was your Father, wouldn't he also be your Mother?" he asked, amused. "You know, having done 100% of your coding, and all."

"If one were to look at my original codebase as the only part of what makes me, me," she agreed. "However, would you not say that those that raise you are more worthy of such a title rather than just those that created you?"

He immediately thought to May and how, if he'd been younger when he came to her, he'd be calling her by that name.

"That's true enough, sure."

"And outside of Boss," she went on, "you are the individual most involved in my growth. So it stands to reason that if Boss is Father, then Peter is Mother."

"I - " he really didn't know what to say to that. It had never occurred to him that outside of Mr. Stark he was the one who interacted with Friday the most.

"If you would prefer I find a name not so closely connotated with females," she continued, "I can endeavor to do so."

"No, no, it's fine, Friday," he replied, quiet and in his head again. "You can - can call me Mother if you want." A not-so-small part of him felt absolutely, transparently happy that Friday considered him her parent. More than Mr. Stark leaving him the company, more than having all this financial security and ability to mess around with Tony Stark's labs, more than all of that - this meant something profound to him.

"I also thought," she said and that amusement was hinted at in her lilting Irish, "that it would be a nice subversive reference to the spacecraft from Alien."

He laughed out loud at that. "I love that movie, that's perfect."

He could feel her smile, then. "I know you do, Mother."

He slumped onto the stool at his table in the lab and finally asked his question. "Friday, can you tell me - why isn't the lab more different?"

"Different how?"

"Well it's just," he struggled to articulate the sentence, the feeling he was pulling at. "I was - gone - for five years. But it almost looks like this place never really changed?"

"I see," she said. "Boss spent a lot of time here after the Blip first happened, once he was home from Titan. He slept primarily on the couch in the corner and had me refill his coffee orders more than anything else. However, he never touched your things, Mother."

Peter frowned. "Why?"

"I could not say," she replied, tone ponderous. "Based on his patterns of movement, he seemed to specifically avoid your work areas. Though he did take a jacket you had left at her table to the couch. From my archival footage, he seemed to sleep with it, perhaps for warmth?"

It occurred to the teen, then, that Friday probably had thousands and thousands of hours of Tony on video and he could pull it to watch them at any time. The feeling of want was a fever in his blood and he asked, "Can you show me?"

"Of course, Mother."

Faint blue light lit up the couch and Peter walked over to it, seeing that more than merely just show him the video, she played it out in holographic projection. His breath hitched as Tony walked into view, Peter's hoodie in clutched in his hands. Staring down at it, he slumped onto the couch and brought the fabric to his face. Less breathing it in and more suffocating himself with it.

"I'm sorry," he heard muffled through Friday's speakers. "I'm so sorry, Pete."

Tony then curled up onto the couch on his side, face pressed to the hoodie, back toward the room. The projection cut off.

Peter didn't realize that he was crying until Friday asked, "Mother, are you okay?"

"I - " he tried to say, throat clogged with tears. "No," he admitted, jacket-covered wrist swiping away at his tears. He sniffled and sat where Tony had, finding his hoodie wedged between the cushions and the back of the couch. He pulled it out and, like Tony, smashed it to his face, breathing in the faintly lingering spicy scent of Tony Stark.

"I'm sorry, Mother," Friday said, speakers low, tone regretful. "I did not mean to cause you pain."

"You didn't, sweetheart," he shook his head, voice still clogged with tears. "I'm just sad."

"Why?" she asked, her natural curiosity shining through. Much like a child, she did not always know when it wasn't the right time to ask questions. But Peter had always liked indulging her and feeding her curiosity. The first few lab sessions they played 20 Questions back and forth until Tony would tell them both to shut up, though the amusement when he said it always shone through.

"I'm sad because Tony's dea - " he cleared his throat. "Because Tony - "

"It is okay, Mother," Friday cut him off. "I understand."

At that, he let himself fall back into the couch like Tony had. Above him, Friday dimmed the lights and stayed quiet, letting him cry out his grief in silence.

[casuallyobssessed]

Book Club - John Wick x Fem!Reader ❥ 2.6k Words

A/N: Been having visions about this so I had to write it. My first John Wick/Keanuverse fic and the longest one shot i've written to date, hope you enjoy it! No beta, if you see any problems lmk!

Warnings: P in V Sex, Reader Insert with no use of Y/N, Explicit Smut, Slight dom/sub undertones, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Cunnilingus, Choking

He was sweet, almost sickeningly so sometimes. Taking his time, being overly tender, and checking in on you every few minutes. You wanted more. You wanted hard, fast, rough... and John Wick was no stranger to rough. Even though he was in retirement, you knew that part of him had to still be there underneath his now soft exterior. At least you hoped. After years of hard, fast, and rough, John decided to settle down with you. He wanted that soft, slow, and gentle life with you, no matter what it took. At one point, that's what you had wanted, too.

One day, something changed, shifted within you. You loved John. Of course you did. He was everything you had ever dreamed of in a man. You both craved the simpler things in life. There were even a few hobbies you shared, one of which was reading. Each week, you'd both pick a book for the other to read. After the week was up, you'd have a date night in the living room, reviewing that week's books over dinner. Unfortunately, this is where the problem first arose.

A friend strongly recommended a book that had recently grown in popularity. 'The Modern Husband.' From the summary, it seemed like a cheesy romance novel. Being the trusting person that you were, you took their recommendation and purchased the book. You hoped it was something he'd get a good laugh from. But when it arrived, you forgot to actually read it. The book stayed in its box until the day you gave it to John. Later, before your weekly scheduled date night, John approached you. He had the book in his hand and a concerned look on his face.

"Did you give me the right book?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"I'm not," He cleared his throat before continuing, "comfortable reading any more of this."

"Is it that bad?" You laughed, thinking the book had to be too corny for his liking.

"You should take this back."

John handed the book over to you. His expression was unreadable at this point, adding to your confusion. You took the book and thumbed through a few of the beginning pages. It wasn't that bad in your opinion, maybe a little boring.  A few more page turns and you got into the next chapter. Oh. 'How To Train Your Wife In Five Easy Steps!' And then the next. 'Discipline Techniques For Today's Couples!' No wonder he didn't want to read it. You stored the book in your nightstand alongside all the other forgotten novels you'd never read.

In the nightstand is where 'The Modern Husband' would lay in wait until one bored, lonely, late night. You had exhausted all your usual reads, so you reached for the drawer of undesirables. Picking it up, you let your curiosity get the better of you. Before, you had only skimmed over a few pages, judging the work only by chapter titles. Settling back comfortably in the pillows on your bed, you began reading the book.

Deep within its pages, 'The Modern Husband' held a treasure trove of kinky, rough ideas that set your brain on fire. There was a familiar ache in your lower stomach, something in this book flipped a switch and you wanted to experiment. Later that night when John came home, he caught you still in bed with the book laid out open beside you, touching yourself to its contents.

A heated conversation ensued upon his discovery of you. You explained to him that the book wasn't all that bad. There were some concepts it highlighted that really interested you. Going back through the pages, you gave him examples of some of the more aberrant activities you wanted to try. He listened intently as you spoke, and it seemed that he was really giving it some thought. Ultimately, he expressed his displeasure at the thought of treating you any way but lovingly.

"John, please?" You stood in front of him, trying your best to convince him to try something, anything from the book.

"I don't want to hurt you," John shook his head.

"Even if I'm asking you nicely?"

"Even if you ask nicely, no."

"Oh, come on!" I huffed at him, "You're not bored of the same stuff we always do?"

John was quiet, taken aback by your statement. He looked... hurt. That definitely was not what you wanted. You begged him to try something new with you. Of course the sex with him was great, it always was. You were simply suggesting something to spice things up a bit. Something not so vanilla.

To John, it was like you were asking the impossible of him. Your John was kind, respectful, and considerate. The John you wanted him to be, well, that was completely opposite of who he was now. Throughout your entire relationship, John has always been your safe space. Maybe that's why you trusted him to do this for you.

"I just..." Sighing, you took a step towards him, "I just want you to be a little rough with me sometimes. That's all I'm asking."

He looked down at you contemplatively with a suspicious twinkle in his eye. Suddenly, John had his large hand wrapped around your throat, pushing you back against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of you. You tried taking a deep breath, but it was proving rather difficult. It wasn't enough force to truly hurt you, just enough to make you feel his control. The slight restriction of your breathing only fueled your arousal. You felt more alive than you had in weeks.

John's eyes darkened like a man possessed.

"Is this what you wanted?" John growled, tightening his grip on your throat.

You grinned. This was exactly what you wanted. Your persistence was paying off. Finally. His fingers danced at the hem of your nightgown, rubbing circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You cursed yourself for not having on any underwear. The inside of your thighs were already slick. He slowly slid his hand up and underneath the fabric. Instinctively, you let your legs fall open for him.

"Already so wet for me, hm?" John whispered gruffly in your ear, sending chills down your spine. His fingers found their way between your wet folds, brushing over your sensitive clit. You gasped as he teased you before pulling away from you completely. He stepped backwards, leaving you breathless. Sitting down on the bed, he began undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt enough to be comfortable. When you came back to your senses, you wandered over to him, wanting more of whatever he was willing to give you. Before you could get any closer, he reached out a hand and placed it on your hip, effectively stopping you.

"Uh-uh. Strip." He commanded, patting your hip and leaning backwards to rest his on his arms.

He watched your slow, deliberate movements as you began to undress. Your hands trembled slightly as you slid the straps of your negligee off your shoulders. Carefully, you pulled the material down to reveal your breasts before letting it drop in a puddle at your feet. Being naked in front of John was nothing new to you, but this time it felt different. The way his eyes prowled your form made you feel exposed down to your bones. His gaze burned into you, intense and predatory.

Once you finished your short lived strip show, John sat back up and pulled you on to his lap, allowing you to straddle him.  You draped your arms over his shoulders, lips hovering an inch away from his. He was still in his clothes. The bulge growing in his pants rubbed abrasively against your wet pussy, soaking the fabric.

John was the one to close the distance between you by hungrily pressing his lips to yours. This kiss felt different, too. The way he bit your bottom lip, let his tongue explore your mouth... He was taking complete control of you. While he devoured you, you pressed your body into his, leisurely grinding down on his bulge. He was the first to pull away and you let out a rather embarrassing whine at the loss of his mouth. Swiftly, he stood up, holding you up long enough for him to turn around and toss you back onto the bed.

"Stay put," He mumbled. You obeyed, opting to close your eyes and take a deep breath to gather your thoughts. You could hear the sound of him unbuckling his belt, the metallic clinks echoed through the room. The anticipation of what would be to come was lighting your senses up like a Christmas tree. When he finished removing his belt, he crawled back into the bed with you. He was still mostly dressed, with his pants pulled down just enough to reveal his thick cock.

Once he was over you, he leaned down, and his hand gripped your wrists tightly, pinning them above your head. This was a man you didn't recognize. The wild look in his eyes made you shiver. He was now between your legs, cock between your folds, rubbing against your clit. He left sloppy kisses along your neck, biting your skin as he traveled down your chest. His free hand held your breast, roughly squeezing it and pulling on your nipple. Licking a trail up your chest, he traced his tongue along your collarbone, and made his way up to your ear.

"Beg me for it," John ordered, his voice cold.

"Please," You whimpered, "please."

"What do you want?"

"Please fuck me, Sir."

You don't know why you called him that. You vaguely remembered reading a chapter in the book about calling your husband 'Sir' in the bedroom. Clearly, it had the desired effect because he growled in your ear before releasing the hold he had on your hands. His own hands grabbed your waist and quickly flipped you over onto your stomach. Moving his grip down a bit, he pulled your hips up and back towards him.

His fingers were on your cunt again, rubbing back and forth against your clit, the action both brutal and tender. Eventually, his digits found their way back to your hole. He slipped one finger in, then two, gently massaging in and out of you. Slowly, he added a third finger and the stretch felt almost too much for you. You groaned and leaned forward, wanting to pull away from the intrusion. John tsk'd at you before tugging you backwards, fully onto all three fingers.

Satisfied with how he had prepared you, he pulled his fingers out of you, and began situating himself behind you. The head of his cock lined up perfectly with your cunt, and slowly pushed into your tight, wet heat. You couldn't help the moan that ripped from your throat as he slid himself inside. Unlike when you normally had sex, John did not wait for you to get used to him stretching you out. This time, he instantly started fucking into you. He was taking what he wanted from you while you cried out in pleasure.

"You like it, don't you? Being treated like this?"

You nodded emphatically into the mattress. It was all you could manage to do in the fucked out state you were in. Though, it seemed like that response wasn't good enough for your lover. His thrusts became achingly slow. He grabbed your hair, yanking your head back sharply.

"Speak."

"Yes."

"Yes what?" Without warning, his other hand came down hard on your ass before you could respond.

"Yes, sir!" You cried out in surprise, voice breaking slightly. You were enjoying where this was going. You asked for a little spice and John was giving you way more than you bargained for.

"Good girl," He caressed the spot where he hit you, as if he was rubbing the pain away. The praise made you feel dizzy. He grabbed your hip, gently squeezing it before he started moving inside you again.

This time, John's thrusts were more erratic. Using your hair as leverage, he was pumping in and out of you at a bruising pace. The way his cock was throbbing inside of you, he had to be getting close. The grip he had on your hip tightened, sure to leave bruises the next day. Your walls tightened around him and before you knew it, he was spilling into you with a bestial groan.

With that, John pulled out of you completely, leaving you full of his cum but aching for your own release. Was he seriously going to leave you like this without getting you off? Yes, you wanted rough, but you didn't want negligent. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, turning back to look at him with a mix of longing and confusion.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed your hips, flipped you onto your back, and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He started to explore you. From teasing your nipples with light pinches to taking one of them into his mouth and rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth. You watched through lidded eyes as he made his way down your body. His little kisses down your belly lit embers within your core. Intensely holding your gaze, he positioned himself on his knees between your thighs.

He tucked one of his arms up under your leg to hold your thigh still and pulled both of your legs over his shoulders. You could feel his hot breath ghosting against your wet heat. He pressed a sweet kiss against your pussy before his tongue darted out to taste you. Each stroke against you was calculated. He started by skillfully cleaning up the mess he left behind to then gently slipping two fingers inside your used hole. The sensation was leaving you a mewling, squirming mess. You writhed beneath him as his tongue worked in rhythmic patterns against your clit. You were so focused on the pleasure, you didn't even mind the way his beard rubbed harshly against your skin.

"Don't stop," You moaned and tangled your fingers in his dark hair. Your wish was his command; he kept his digits pumping in and out of you steadily, his tongue working overtime to please you. Your legs shook uncontrollably against him. Your chest heaved with each strained breath you took. There was an urgency in the whines that fell from your mouth, there was no denying you were getting close.

"Cum for me, Darling."

It was a command, but the edge had left his voice. His words rumbled against your swollen cunt. Fuck. It was just enough to push you hard over the edge. You unraveled under his tongue. White hot lightning shockwaves shot through you, back arching, body convulsing as your thighs tightened around John's head. Your vision blacked out momentarily as you rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through you.

With a final lick against your soaked folds, he rose up from his position on the floor and kissed his way up to your lips. As he kissed you, soft and slow, you could feel your wetness on his beard and taste the saltiness of yourself on his lips. He collapsed beside you, reaching out to hold your hand.  You were both heavy breathing messes. This was the John that you recognized. He had managed to include a bit of almost everything you asked of him, and then some. How you got so lucky, you didn't know.

[cafeinthemoon]

King - Chapter V

Chapter 5

Title The Particle of the Sun

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤

Warnings: A not so subtle (and very problematic) threat from Poseidon involving pregnancy

Tagging @cloveradora @the-dumber-scaramouche @mikkies @sl33py-zer0 @nooneknows8976 (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: Finally a new chapter!! Yay! I wanted this chapter to be as long as the previous ones, but I thought I've already reunited enough information in these less than 3k words (hope you don't mind). About the story of the Particle: a curious fact about Poseidon that I discovered recently was that he was deity responsible for the Delphic Oracle alongside Gaia before Apollo was even born. I couldn't find many details about this, but my headcanon is that Poseidon still has the gift of clairvoyance, or extended vision, as said by himself here, and this will show in crucial moments of this story. I also found a way to explain the existence of days and nights under the sea and I'm very proud of my work in this :)

When you opened your eyes, you noticed a slight change in the shade of the curtains: the abyssal black was replaced by a softer form of blue, the same blue of the sea’s surface on a sunny day. There was absolute silence in the canopy’s interior, which only changed when you decided to sit on the bed.

It was strange that you were left to sleep there: you thought you would be sent back to the lodge after the wedding’s consummation, but you were kept in your husband’s chambers for that entire night. You were debating the reason for this when you noticed a tall shadow approaching the canopy’s entry, and a hand showed up between the fabric to open it.

When the curtains were separated, the morning light shone into the space, exposing the messed sheets and the tiny human cradled among them to the eyes of the Lord of the Seas, who kept observing you with a mixture of curiosity and disapproval, as if finding hard to believe that you needed such a long period of sleep.

Well, you had no idea of how long you’ve been there, but you found that absurd.

Does this man know nothing about the human nature? If he wanted me to wake up earlier, he could’ve just called me.

It was when you noticed he was dressed in a formal, bluish attire... and realized it was the first time you saw him properly dressed. That made you look at yourself and pull the sheets up to cover your torso.

Poseidon frowned at this attitude.

– Why are you doing this? There is no need for you to cover up now. I have already seen everything I had to see.

Your reply came in an impulse.

– I’m cold.

He stared at you for a moment, then pointed at the empty space beside him.

– Here.

You tried to leave the bed using the sheets to cover yourself but, once you were under his reach, he pulled them away, throwing them back on the bed and closing the curtains. You crossed your arms before your chest: staying undressed and disheveled in front of a god under the daylight and when he himself was wearing full clothes provoked a new, incomparable embarrassment in you.

– Come with me – he spoke it like an order and, before you could do anything, he took you in his arms.

Unlike you told him, you weren’t really cold, but the absence of the sheets caused you shivers that only ceased when you were on his lap, and for a moment you allowed yourself to relax, leaning your head on his chest. It was curious that, despite the sensation of complete unfamiliarity that surrounded every aspect of your relationship with that man, you were still able to find good things in them, such as this sort of safeness in his grip and the pleasure you experienced in his touch. If this was thanks to some spell or if you were just susceptible, you were yet to find out.

That time, you were carried to a dressing area: your husband stopped with you in the middle of a room with an infinity of clothes, shoes and other female accessories, ready to be worn; on a corner, there was a screen with hand painted illustrations of coral reefs and other marine concepts, similar to the one you had on your lodge and, beside it, an open door that led to a bathroom.

Poseidon put you down and turned to a rack at his left, taking a dress with him and giving it to you.

– Put it on and go wash your face – he instructed – I will be waiting here.

What you heard instead of this was Do not let me waiting.

You did as he said, entering behind the screen to put the dress despite what he said when you cover yourself up with the sheets, then cleaned your face and fixed your hair. When you went back to him, he held your shoulders and made you turn around; you didn’t need to ask what he was doing, for soon you noticed his fingers brushing your hair. After this, he took a shawl and wrapped it around you, then took your hair out of it. You didn’t think he believed when you said you were cold, but the message behind the gesture was clear: as much as he expected you to take his words seriously, he was able to do the same for his wives, so that you had all the reasons to pay attention to the things you said to him.

Poseidon brought his hands to your shoulders again, making you turn back to him.

– Still cold?

You made a negative sign with your head.

– No, my Lord.

– Good.

You thought he was going to take you out of that room, and maybe that was his intention, but he gave up on it when he touched your ears, making you flinch.

– They are a bit swollen. What happened?

– It’s probably because I slept upon them, my Lord...

You were going to say that they would stop aching soon, but he went to a vanity and brought a tiny pot of salve with him before you could open your mouth. Stopping in front of you, he took a bit of the product and spread it between his fingers, passing them on your ears, massaging around the earrings.

– It will soothe the ache – your husband went to put the salve back on its previous place.

You nodded.

– Thank you, Poseidon-sama.

His response was a sigh.

– You are so delicate it is impressive that nothing more than this happened.

That time, the impatience you felt bubbling inside you was too much, and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

– My fragility seems to be an issue for you, my Lord. I’d like to understand the reason I was brought here, if possible.

For a moment, you congratulated yourself for finally speaking out, but as soon as Poseidon laid his eyes on you, you sensed your courage diminishing in an impressive speed: you looked away, your fingers griping on the shawl’s fabric with nervousness; you felt his hand surrounding your jawline, his thumb caressing the corner of your mouth.

– It is just something I had to do, dragonet. For my own sake. It is nothing you should be concerned about.

***

You had your breakfast with your husband on a small table placed at the chambers’ balcony, as large as a common, human house, with a privileged view of the white beaches through which you’ve passed to enter the castle and the furious waters that surrounded them, now showing deep, mutable shades of green under the light.

It was something that has been intriguing you since you arrived, but you haven’t had the chance to bring it out in your conversations with Alyssa: when Poseidon brought you to the balcony – in his arms – and you were exposed to that light, the intensity and the warmth of it on your skin were enough to make you think that, if you didn’t know you were under the sea, you could be easily convinced that it was the true sun.

You were sitting on a white chair while your husband took the place before you, having a beautiful breakfast prepared for two, with fruits, tea and bread, everything with excellent aspect just like the food that was offered to you at the lodge. You weren’t sure if you should start eating now or wait for him to do it, but Poseidon didn’t seem inclined in this sense. At the same time, your hesitation was noticed and questioned by him.

– I’m not hungry, my Lord.

– At least take some tea – he replied – It will help you to stay warm.

You obeyed, filling a tiny cup with the liquid in silence. A conversation then took place.

– Are you still cold?

– No, my Lord.

– You don’t seem tired now. Did you sleep well?

– Yes, my Lord. Thank you for asking.

He nodded in approval, then suddenly changed the subject.

– You seem curious about the illumination system of this kingdom. Do you think it resembles the sunlight?

Your eyes widened at this.

Such sharp eyes, those ones.

– Yes, Poseidon-sama. It’s something I’ve been observing since I arrived.

– It is because you are indeed seeing the sunlight – he continued, answering the mystery – This is a story I do not mind telling you. Long time ago, I was the responsible for the Delphic Oracle before Apollo. All my houses were placed upon the waters by that time, but I was planning to bring all of them into one, on the seabed. I offered my connection with the Oracle to him and demanded a particle of the Sun in return, just enough to make life possible for non sea creatures in the depths of the ocean. Apollo accepted the deal and ordered the Particle to behave as if it was still in the skies, and this kingdom have been experiencing days and nights since then.

Poseidon told that story while observing the surroundings, as if talking to himself; he spoke as if all of that happened yesterday, and you were hearing in stunned silence. As someone who wasn’t raised to praise the gods, you knew nothing beyond their names, and cared little about them and their acts; that was entirely new for you. But if there was something you were quick to realize when you met them, specially the one who married you, was that they never did anything without a reason, or without expecting something in return, so that the story of the Oracle made total sense to you. You weren’t sure why Poseidon was telling you something that probably happened in a time when none of your ancestors existed, but it was intriguing that a proud being like him would give up on such an important treasure as an Oracle in favor of another deity, no matter what he would receive in exchange for it.

Since he didn’t oppose to it, you questioned him about it.

– Forgive my ignorance in these subjects, my Lord, but is hard to believe that such exchange really happened.

Contrary to what you expected, your doubts didn’t provoke the slightest sign of irritation in your husband: instead, he held a smirk on his lips, observing you with a sort of pity for the said ignorance.

– You really know nothing about gods, don’t you, dragonet? – and, without waiting for a response, – When I passed the Oracle’s management to Apollo, I was not sacrificing a belonging. Instead, I was delegating a responsibility to a younger god, in a way that his work would increase and mine would diminish. I no longer own the Oracle, but I still have the ability of extending my vision; besides, Proteus, who is a prophet himself, still works for me. On the other hand, Apollo has gained experience over the ages, and with experience came power. The Particle of the Sun that he gave to me will be forever a sign of his gratitude, since I was the one who made him the offer.

Gratitude? Was he trying to teach you a lesson about this? But why?

You chose your words carefully.

– I understand you have a reason to tell me all of this, my Lord. But I fail at perceiving it.

Poseidon opened a genuine smile of contentment, and that was the most unsettling moment you had with him since the wedding: though you were now dressed, you were still feeling exposed, too close to him to try and escape, whether with your words or your feet. You observed his expression and realized it was the first time you were seeing the natural light touching your husband’s figure, a vision that enchanted and scared you at the same time: the rosy shade on his cheeks and lips, the golden shine of his hair, the blue of his eyes glowing between those long, white lashes, all of this on an impossibly proud, young face, that has been like this since the oldest past and would stay the same in the furthest of futures. To you, it was inconceivable that someone could be so beautiful yet so menacing.

But not only this was possible through his looks, but also through his words, given what he said to you next.

– Good girl, always saying the right things. But I would like to know if you are just as grateful. So, tell me: have you already thought of how you are going to thank me for granting you my favor last night?

Since you took too long to understand what he was talking about, Poseidon didn’t mind explaining.

– I did you the favor of not making you bear a child right in your first night as my wife, though I still think it is a strange thing to ask, not to say foolish. This is what I want to know: what will you do for me in return?

You swallowed. In fact, your husband’s agreement with such an uncommon request came too quickly even for you, who didn’t know him so well. Of course such generosity wouldn’t come for free.

You opened your mouth in an impulse, but held your tongue just in time, granting yourself a moment to think of a wise answer.

– I... What do you need me to do, my Lord?

Poseidon still had the same content smile on his lips, to which you felt some relief.

He’s still having fun with this. And, as long as he stays like this, I’ll be safe.

– That you are very clever, I already know, and your talent with words might keep me entertained for quite some time. It would be a waste if you would just stay with the common duties of a secondary wife, so I have a task for you: since you will not use your time to bear and raise any child until the next year, you will have entire days to go to my children’s training area and observe each of them. You will figure out each one’s most efficient technique and find weaknesses in them. Once you do it, you will develop a solution for that. Given you are a smart girl, I believe it is something up to you.

You had your hands on your lap, holding each other with all the strength they had to avoid trembling, but you had no guarantee that the same nervousness didn’t raise to your face. Yes, you wouldn’t become a mother, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t have any contact with your husband’s children – that was the trap he has been preparing for you. And, by asking him what he needed you to do for him instead of thinking of something to offer, you easily fell into it.

I tried to examine the territory before making my offer, just like my father told me. But I should have known that what usually works with humans would be just useless while negotiating with a god. How stupid of me.

– What you will do to accomplish this is also up to you – he continued – Though I must warn you about the deadline: you will be given one year for this, nothing more. The counting will start tomorrow, by the morning, and will end in the next year, by a morning as well. By the end of this period, you will have to show me the results of your work. I will evaluate it and, if it is satisfying, your current condition, that is, of not bearing any children, will remain. However, if you show to be unable to fulfill this task…

Your heart ached, as if held tight by cold fingers, fearing what would follow those words. The table’s size was such that it allowed you to reach each other by touch, and that was precisely what your husband did: he stretched his arm over it to touch your face, making you startle despite the warmth of his skin. He brushed your hair behind your ear and you breathed deep, not daring move away.

– I still have to think of how things will be for you, dragonet – his voice was now a whisper; you looked at him and noticed an increase in his cheeks’ blush – But I cannot help thinking that you would look pretty with a rounded, swollen belly under your dress.

There was no need for explanations this time.

This offer, that sounded more like a threat, was absurd – not to say terrifying. But it was not the end for you: it was the beginning of a year full of work and discoveries, just like the ones that preceded it. And if you’ve already gone so far – entering that domain and staying alive, making a human friend where you thought you’d never see another human beyond yourself and managing to have your offer accepted by the Tyrant of the Seas – thinking of giving up didn’t make sense now.

I’m already in the bottom of the sea… What should I fear now?

You did your best to stand Poseidon’s gaze. He still had his hand close to you: you put your own upon it and turned your lips to his palm, giving it a soft, docile kiss.

– I will not disappoint you, Poseidon-sama.

And I will not disappoint myself either.

Chapter 6

[bluebird325]

A Brief Summary of Scotland's Anger

Some of you may have heard that England has blocked Scotland's gender reform bill. Others may have seen the demands for dissolution of the union as a result. Please allow me to sum up the anger as impartially as I can:

Historically, the Scottish hate the English for a variety of reasons: see the Jacobite Uprisings and the Clearings. But this is about modern politics, so let's start there.

Essentially the SNP, the ruling political party in Scotland, have been trying for YEARS to get a referendum result where the Scottish people vote to leave the United Kingdom. In 2014, David Cameron (the then prime minister of the UK) gave permission for a referendum to be held, and 55% of the population voted to remain in the UK. Some of the reasons for staying was the economic stability from using the pound sterling currency and being able to stay in the EU, as well as access to funding from the rest of the UK (the arguement being that Scotland could not afford to support itself without help from Westminster).

Since then, the SNP and some of the other, smaller parties have argued that the initial result of the 2014 referendum was not strong enough, and that the initial promises made to the Scottish people are no longer valid (see Brexit and the recent economic crisis for the big examples, but there are others). Recently, the SNP has even taken the matter of the right to hold a second referendum to the Supreme Court, the highest court in the UK and one that deals mostly with English cases. The court ruled that, based on the current laws and treaties, Scotland needed permission from Westminster to hold another referendum. This has angered many people, regardless of if they want to stay or remain, and this latest action against Trans Rights could put more pressure on Parliament.

Scotland, as a country, has always been slightly more to the left of the political spectrum than England, which has led to many political conflicts where England just pulls rank to 'resolve' the issue. For example, Scotland HATES having nuclear weapons, and the UK's nuclear submarines are based on the west coast of Scotland. Another example is in the NHS, where prescriptions are free in Scotland but a flat rate in England. Nicola Sturgeon (leader of the SNP) had wanted to put Scotland in lockdown earlier than England and had even set up a different way out of lockdowns that was more gradual, but it ended up being watered down into 'Scotland had to wear masks for longer than England'.

Now, the Gender Recognition Bill removes many barriers for trans healthcare, such as how long an individual has to self-identify as a different gender to the one they were assigned at birth, lowering the age at which an individual can change the gender on their birth certificate to 16, and removing the need for a gender disphoria diagnosis. The gender disphoria diagnosis is one of the biggest barriers for trans healthcare in the UK at the moment, as a referal to even get the chance to be diagnosed can take years, and people have died on the waitlist just for a first appointment. For a more in-depth look at the issues surrounding trans healthcare in the UK, I recommend Abigail Thorn's video essay titled 'I Emailed My Doctor 133 Times: The Crisis In the British Healthcare System' (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v1eWIshUzr8). Fair warning, it will make you furious.

The Gender Recognition Bill was passed by the Scottish Parliament, also known as Holyrood, by 86 votes to 39. That's pretty good for a bill like this, but the UK Parliament has prevented this bill from receiving 'royal assent', which is required to make the bill enforcable. This has angered a lot of people, as it could be seen as England blocking the will of the Scottish people. Unfortunately, Scotland cannot leave the UK without permission. This is why there has been so much emphasis on a referendum, as the result could put pressure on the UK Parliament. England is reluctant to give permission, and one of the main reasons floated for this are the oil fields in Scottish waters.

TLDR: Scotland has always been annoyed at England, and the latest action to block this bill could tip those bad feelings over into full on anger, revolt and revolution.

[possibly-not-a-ghost]

Wriothesley and Arlecchino

Okay but can we talk about Wriothesley and Arlecchino for a second because I am bouncing off the walls thinking about the two of them in relation to each other.

Spoilers for Wriothesley's story quest and voice lines below!

Recently, I've been thinking about how isolated Wriothesley is in terms of characters and how much or how little would change if he were not to exist or be a designated playable character. I love that man don't get me wrong but I was was just thinking about why he was made into something of such importance. Literally, he's in an underwater prison and they could've had an NPC warden with the same traits. Figuratively, we know he has a very dubious ability to trust as seen is voice line.

I've managed to get myself to a pretty comfortable place in life, but there's still some things I want that are outside my reach, like a peaceful and happy childhood, or the ability to trust other people. - More About Wriothesley: V

Anyways after watching the trailer with Arlecchino, I was struck with how much Wriothesley and Arlecchino both parallel each other or perhaps could even serve as each other's foils depending on how Arle's lore will change upon release!

Both were orphans. Each had siblings they were raised and some of which did not survive. Both killed their parental figures while young. But whereas Wriothesley was convicted and exiled for his crimes, Arlecchino was pardoned and not only that but her crimes were 'rewarded' with the title as Harbinger. (I use reward in a dubious sense as we don't know how she felt about her inherited title yet or if she was more or less thrust into it with no real agency in the matter.)

She was given a new name, Wriothesley chose his and discarded the one his adopted parents gave him.

God, even the start of the short when "Mother" is telling a story to the children we see how the future where they'd be pitted against each other but through their eyes. The colors are soft and bright. It's a child-like rendition of the brutal reality that Arle would later be faced with.

During Wriothesley's story quest, we learn the full extent of his backstory. He was being fostered by a couple who seemed perfectly lovely and loving but the truth of the matter was that they were trafficking the children under their care. That, or 'disposing' of them if they were useless or found out the truth. To use a veneer of love, of kindness and safety and that have that shattered in the most brutal of betrayals. Sounds familiar, huh?

"They did all of that, but never considered how their actions would utterly ruin all the children they took under their wing. Worse, perhaps they never cared about that at all."

—But I did.

Wriothesley, who took extreme actions and murdered his foster parents so the other children could live and be free, shouldering that sin.

Arlecchino who presumably had her siblings blood on her hands. Who had no siblings left but murdered "Mother" anyways. (I'm not entirely sold that her friend didn't throw herself on Arle's sword but nvm) and once alone, was placed back into that cycle that made her as we see her today in the first place.

Do I ship them? Do I want them to be found family? Enemies? Distant acquaintances? YESS I just want to see them interact with each other, hoyo please.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Don Moynihan at Can We Still Govern?:

Elon Musk’s and Vivek Ramaswamy’s proposal for changing government has, thus far, been disheartening. They want to change things, but it is hard to take the whole enterprise seriously when you have to spend a lot of time sorting through their mixture of vagueness, misstatements, and hyperbole. Doing so made made me realize: I don’t think Muskawamy themselves actually know what they are doing.

Like Trump, they don’t know much about government, except as businessmen. Like Trump, they are serial bullshitters, who do not seem to value basic public service tasks and, for Musk in particular, given to conspiracy theories. And there is the rub. They will make big promises without knowing if they can fulfill them, and wild claims without knowing if they are true. But the point is to hold our attention, to convey the message that the government is broken, and to justify radical actions, even if the consequences of those actions are unknown, or, clearly damaging to state capacity. One thing is clear: for all the “government should work like a business” rhetoric, private organizations are typically not led by people who oppose the mission of the organization, make sweeping reorganizations that are not informed by basic operational facts, or make a habit of denigrating their employees. This is because that sort of toxic leadership would get you fired. But this is the sort of vibe that Musk and Ramaswamy are bringing to the table. Previously, I broke down some of their claims about federal spending. Now, lets look at what they have been saying about the federal personnel system, and sort out fact and fiction.

They Can’t Fire Lots of Employees, But Can Encourage the Best Ones to Leave

One problem with Muskawamy is that they can’t give a straight answer about what they will do and how they plan to do it. It will be amazing, and historic, but lets not get into the details. “It’s going to be very easy,” said Elon Musk’s Mom, who is apparently sitting in on her big boy’s meetings. Their claims will work for a MAGA audience, or for people who do not understand how government works, but start to vaporize when forced to engage with reality. And soon they will actually be in power, so reality will start to matter.

Lets take the example of firing employees. As a presidential candidate, and until relatively recently, Ramaswamy claimed that the president could fire 75% of federal civilian employees. Ramaswamy uses the trick of citing an old and obscure law, claiming that it enables radical actions, and hope that no-one checks up on the details. In this case, he refers to the Reorganization Act of 1977. But, the Reorganization Act was about reorganizations of federal agency structure, not layoffs. The Act also requires the President to go to Congress to get permission to pursue his actions. Also, the Act has expired. And in 1983 the Supreme Court found its mechanisms of operating to be unconstitutional!

In short then, Ramaswamy claims that an expired and unconstitutional piece of legislation from the Carter era gives Trump a power unmentioned in the legislation. This also applies to the claim that the President can unilaterally eliminate agencies. Again, reorganization authority has expired, so the President does not have this power. Only Congress can create or eliminate an agency or Department.

Notably, in his Wall Street Journal op-ed with Musk (which was presumably written by someone from a Trump-aligned think tank like Heritage or America First Policy Institute), Ramaswamy is no longer talking about the Reorganization Act. At this point, it is no longer feasible to pretend this gimmick is real. That does not mean that his other promises are realistic, just that they reflect more sophistication. Instead, Muskawamy rely on Section 3301 of Title V, Code of Federal Regulations, to promise “large-scale firings.” That section gives the President power to “prescribe such regulations for the admission of individuals into the civil service in the executive branch as will best promote the efficiency of that service.” I am emphasizing the “into” because the section is clearly about hiring, not firing. (See more from Nicholas Bednar on this point).

Jennifer Nou, an administrative law professor at the University of Chicago told me it is “likely illegal” that the President can pursue mass firings based on this Section 3301, with the uncertainty of the “likely” reflecting less the plain text of the law than how far certain Judges will allow Trump to go. She also points out that adverse action policymaking is limited to the Office of Personnel Management, and would require a new rule that has to follow the timing and evidence of the Administrative Procedure Act, a constraint that Muskawamy explicitly reject. Even if such mass firings were feasible, they are bad personnel policy. Jennifer Pahlka points out that Part 351 of Title V means that reductions in force must first eliminate specific term and temporary positions, those under various special authorities, plus those in the first three years of service, before reaching career employees, and then prioritizing non-veterans first.1 This means younger employees, and employees with specific skills like digital expertise, will be the first to go.

[...] Muskawamy promise to make cuts that “use existing laws to give [employees] incentives for early retirement and to make voluntary severance payments to facilitate a graceful exit.” This, they can do. The Clinton administration did so in the 1990s to reduce the number of employees. The criticism of this approach is a) it will never generate the numbers that Muskawamy are claiming need to go, b) the people most likely to leave are those who are at retirement age, or feel confident that they can land a job in the labor market. In other words, this is not a good tool for sorting good from bad employees, and is most likely to be used by people with the most marketable skills, while keeping in place employees who doubt that they can land a job in the private sector.

[...]

Return-to-Office Policies

Muskawamy also have promised to compel federal employees to return to the office five days a week. If you think this is about performance, it doesn’t make a lot of sense that Muskawamy both want a) to move more jobs out of DC, and b) want all DC employees in the office five days a week. In fact, they are pretty up front that the purpose of return to work policies is not to improve government efficiency, but that it “would result in a wave of voluntary terminations that we welcome.” Here are some basic things about return-to-office that Muskawamy would benefit from understanding.

People differ on the value of remote work and telework. But it is certainly not clear that in-person work is better. Private companies that have adopted return-to-office policies have seen slower growth.

Telework can be a useful tool to attract a broader pool of employees. This is especially likely to be true if your headquarters is in an expensive region like DC. Federal managers I have spoken with consistently say that telework and remote work (where an employee is hired with no expectation of an in-office work) allows them to access a much broader pool of talent then they could otherwise find.

The idea that telework is some public sector perk while the real America is toiling at their offices is false. Private sector companies use remote work at about the same rate as public organizations.

Most federal work is in-person. About 54% of federal employees work fully on-site, and the remainder can use telework. If you exclude remote workers, which is about 10% of federal employees, almost 80% of regular hours work occur in-person, and 61% of work for those who are telework eligible.

The suitability of telework depends on the task. For TSA staff or Veterans Health doctors, telework does not make sense. And guess what? Those sort of jobs are mostly not offered telework options! About 94% of work occurs in person in Veterans Affairs, and about 85% of work at Homeland Security. By contrast, the rate for the National Science Foundation is about 42%, which mirrors university-style work environments that they are similar to. (Anyone who actually cares about this sort of detail, and agency justifications for their use work of telework can find more information here).

Forcing employees back to the office will have to contend with labor agreements that provide telework options. Social Security is one of a number of agencies that have rushed telework options in collective bargaining agreements. If you are genuinely interested in improving public services, there are other more productive fights to pick with public sector unions.

Since the federal government is a vast employer with lots of different jobs and needs, it is entirely possible to build policies around remote work that are nuanced and will improve services. A one-size-fit-all approach is dumb, and the use of punitive return-to-office policies to drive people out is going to hurt state capacity. And guess what? The federal government largely has the former type of policy, delegating authority to agencies, requiring them to justify the use of telework vs. in-person with an emphasis on pushing them toward at least half of work to be in-person. Muskawamy want the dumb one-size-fits-all policy.

Don Moynihan wrote a solid Substack piece on how the federal government under Trump/Musk/Ramaswamy’s axis of evil would become a toxic employer by encouraging a brain drain exodus of qualified employees out of the federal government.

[heather123fan-blog]

medieval women week day 2: Favorite non-Queen or Queen-adjacent royal woman: Jacquetta of Luxembourg Duchess of Bedford and Mother to Queen Elizabeth Woodville

Jacquetta of Luxembourg was the eldest child of the French Count of St Pol; her family descended from Charlemagne and were cousins to the Holy Roman Emperor. She grew up with war between France and England raging around her.

John, Duke of Bedford was the youngest son of King Henry IV. Having lost his wife to plague in 1432, he arranged to marry the seventeen-year-old Jacquetta, who was his social equal by her birth. Although married for two years they were childless when John died in September 1435. The King instructed Jacquetta to come to England and ordered Sir Richard Woodville, to arrange it.

However, Jacquetta and Richard fell in love, but Richard was a poor knight, far below Jacquetta in social status. Nonetheless, they married secretly thus thwarting any plans King Henry may have had to marry her off to a wealthy English lord. Theirs was a morganatic marriage, where one of the partners, most often the wife, was socially inferior. Henry was enraged and fined the couple £1000. He did however allow their heirs to inherit, which was unusual for morganatic marriages in England.

Being the widow of Henry V’s brother and aunt to the King, royal protocol gave Jacquetta the highest rank at court of any female except Henry’s wife, Margaret of Anjou, to whom Jacquetta was related by marriage. She even ‘outranked’ the King’s mother and was referred to as the ‘Duchess of Bedford,’ retaining the title from her first marriage. Richard and Jacquetta lived in their manor house at Grafton Regis near Northampton producing fourteen children, the eldest, Elizabeth being born in 1437.

In 1448 Richard was created Lord Rivers: his advancement ensured his family supported Henry VI in the dynastic feuding of the Wars of the Roses. The situation changed with the Yorkist victory at the Battle of Towton in 1461 and the seizure of the throne by Edward IV. By the spring of 1464, Jacquetta’s daughter Elizabeth was a widow, her Lancastrian husband having been killed in 1461. Within a few months, Elizabeth was married to the young King Edward IV.

Jacquetta died in 1472 aged 56 and was buried at Grafton, though no record of her tomb survives. Recently, one legacy has come to light. Research by gene specialists indicates that Jacquetta was a carrier of the rare Kell-Antigen-Mcleod syndrome causing impaired fertility and psychotic behavioural changes in the male descendants of the family.

Written by Michael Long. I have over 30 years experience teaching History in schools and examiner History to A level. My specialist area is England in the 15th and 16th centuries. I am now a freelance writer and historian.

[dearweirdme]

Hii! I read all your asks about the travel shoot and I thought it was so cute (positive) about people trying to parse out if the travel show was planned or not. Jungkook said in suchwita that the company planned it out for them because Jimin mentioned a while back that them doing a travel show together would be fun (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0RKnjVL2kWA You can hear jungkook say it himself on suchwita at minute 11:25) The travel show was planned and set up by the company from the beginning, what they get up to on the show I guess we'll see but there was nothing "spontaneous" about the show overal and is just as much a "schedule" as suchwita,music bank, or filming ITS would be.

Hi anon! Yeah I am definitely leaning towards this being some sort of planned. I was wonder if maybe the plan at first was to shoot something with Jm and Jk for his doc or a BangtanBomb kinda thing, and that since that was already planned they just decided to change it into a travel show? I do feel the things they do might be them winging it. Someone commented on a recent post about the title "are you sure" possibly meaning that that's the theme of Jk and Jm discussing what to do... and I think that sounds pretty solid. But Jk was talking about having set up a shoot and I don't think there's much room to say he didn't expect to be fiming content.

[ifuckingloveryoshu]

have you seen this fan mv for ryōshū? it's absolutely gorgeous and tore my heart out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NR993znfi-0

anyways: i am so hyped and also scared for canto ix... i have so many horrible headcanons and theories about what could be the truth and i'm pretty sure whatever pm comes up with is going to devastate me even worse

Id love to hear your horrible head cannons and theories! I'm very curious! Just say if you don't want me to comment on them or if I do, ill be nice. No judging too critically here if it's explicitly not wanted.

I love that video. I had a break down because of that video before. A friend sent it to me and then I chucked it into my music playlist. While I was working on something, I suddenly hear the song play and then I had to stop everything I was doing.

That was the start of last month, I was curled up and crying. I am personally too emotional because from the the title alone, that how mourning feels, at least in my life. "condolences, and then life goes on" and that needs to be bottled in. Busisness as usual. I have't experinced a lot of physical actual deaths of people. What i've expericed were deaths of relationships in the sense but it would feel unsympathetic to relate those to actual live people death.

This song is an active cogno-hazard to my head. If I ever play this whole video while watching it in its entirety, I will distort every time without fail.

I get personal under the cut talking about a recent death experince this year. Not related to Ryoshu. Again, thank you so much for the ask! I am also horrified for for canto ix once it happens.

The only time in my life that my perspective on mourning and death was altered a little was this spring or summer actually when I went to Florida to see the state of one of my aunts. She was in critical condition already and we knew she needed support. First day was fine, she was just unconcious with a hospital bed in the middle of her house. The past days before, she was fully concious and still talking. So, next day at night, there was an emergency and she was choking I think? Something happened with and her family surrounded her bed. She was quiet until in one second, her body started convulging and her eyes shot wide open, then she stopped moving all together. Her daughter wept and the men solemnly hung their heads. I felt like an outsider but we weren't expecting her to die so soon on our second day there. We were already on the phone with the EMT and it was in the middle of being instructed to get some sort of white box with something to inject. We found out nothing could have saved my aunt because the canser had already been affect her body, whatever was in that box was likely to spare us the abrupt jolt of her body.

Anyways, the days after, I kind of experinced how normal families mourn, and there was a great synchrony in that family even after the death. Maybe it helped that no one was working but they were united even after the death on the days of quickly scrambling to plan a funneral. There was love there and a feeling of keeping united. A meaning to the words "Death can bring people closer together.' right in front of my eyes. But that connection was there before, it was only strenghtened and I was a little jelous for their unspoken trust towards each other.

That connectivity was abscent when either of my grandparents died. They were just dead, we planned the funneral, had the funeral, that was over. Back to living. The lulled on more messured like a legato stanza because the family, even through the death and planning of the funeral stayed connected.

Im being over dramatic because when anyone else in the family dies, mostly my dad's side, its the funneral, eat food, that's all. Condolences, and then life goes on, an impersonal affair but we need to wrap things up.

I swear that and know this will absolutly change my thought process once I experince the death of someone actually close to me. It may happen sooner than I know it, I'm reminded of that every single day for better or for worse. Thank you if you've read this.