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#glorious extracts
labyrynth · 6 months
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so…somehow topaz is not only managing to embody “rampant capitalist” but also “insidious colonizer”???
like babe maybe try not launching an armed alien invasion of their home threatening to extract every single resource of potential value. or like. dumping a 700yr old debt on a planet that has been entirely isolated for most of that.
hey speaking of how it’s been 700 years since this supposed loan was made—why are you sweeping in to demand hundreds of years of interest on a loan you didn’t care enough to collect more than 400 years ago…conveniently AFTER you decided that maybe there was something to exploit here after all?
like goddamn when they announced “topaz and numby” i thought the pig was supposed to be NUMBY and yet Here We Are
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thetragicallynerdy · 1 year
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love how when tumblr decides something is funny it's the only joke we pass around for days
right now the joke is vanilla extract
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julie-finlay · 1 year
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Finlay Friday
13x01: "Karma to Burn", script extracts. Pt. 3/3. Unaired scenes under the cut.
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maluron · 11 months
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Even for lucky bitches who don't get Cramps Of Doom nor dysphoria over it you have to acknowledge that human periods are messy and worse: inefficient. Spend up to five whole days shedding that pesky decidua??? that's much too long.
Headcanon that Viktor would be the kind of trans guy to just grab a Karman cannula & a vacuum pump and suck everything out in one go. Here, clean & clear to go. Human flesh is so flawed, can't wait to get rid of that part.
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luckycaricature · 1 year
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Venilla extract summary (afaik): As soon as polls dropped, someone made a "lets make a cake" poll.
Basically everyone voted vanilla extract.
Tumblr then did what tumblr does, and made it a meme. adding it to any and every poll they could think of no matter how little sense it made.
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Thank you for the clarification anon, that cake sounds like a nightmare and I fucking love this doofy ass site LMAO
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for the new year, i have decided to make a couple edits and additions to the almighty Calendar. happy 2024.
IT JUST HAPPENS
DAY 15 GIVE IT UP FOR DAY 15
Thursday the 20th
The Fifth of Wednesday
Second Week of May: Eurovision
Sometime in June: That One Halloween Post Starts Circulating
Sometime in July: Dancing Pumpkin Man Video/Gif
WEEKLY EVENTS (at least the ones i celebrate)
Every Monday: Garfield Hates Mondays
Every Tuesday: Tom Servo Tuesday
Every Wednesday: It Is Wednesday My Dudes
Every Thursday: Out of Touch Thursday
Every Friday: Flat Fuck Friday
Every Saturday: Sea Slug Saturday
Every Sunday: Energy Sword Sunday
YEARLY EVENTS
January 1: Copyright Expiration Day
January 8: Spiders Georg Day
January 16: Appreciate a Dragon Day
January 18: Bug Race
January 29: Threshold Day
All of February: Funguary
ALSO All of February: Femslash February
February 3: WOE, VANILLA EXTRACT BE UPON YE
February 13: Galentines Day
February 14: Aromantic/Asexual Day
March 9: Miku Day
March 10: Mario Day
March 14: Pi Day
March 15: Ides of March
March 23: Ever Given Got Stuck Today
April 1: Mishapocalypse
April 2: Dashcon Announcement Anniversary
April 3: Dannypocalypse
April 8: Rex Manning Day
ALSO April 8: MARGARET THATCHER IS DEAD
April 13: Neil Banging Out The Tunes
ALSO April 13: Homestuck Day
April 20: haha 420 blaze it
April 25: The Perfect Date
April 28: Ed Balls Day
April 30: It's Gonna Be May
All of May: Mermay
May 3: Beginning of Dracula Daily
May 4: May the 4th Be With You
May 5: Revenge of the Fifth
May 25: The Glorious 25th of May
All of June: Pride Month
ALSO All of June: IT'S HALLOWEEN TIME TO GET SPOOKY
June 5: Barricade Day
ALSO June 5: RONALD REAGAN IS DEAD
June 12: Another Homestuck Day
June 16: Let Papyrus Say Fuck
June 22: Summerween
All of July: Disability Pride Month
July 13-15: Dashcon Anniversary
July 20: Moon Landing
September 8: The Queen Is Dead and Sans Undertale Killed Her
September 11: Mole Interest Monday
September 19: Talk Like A Pirate Day
September 21: DO YOU REMEMBER-
All of October: SKELETON WAR
ALSO All of October: People Draw A Lot Month? (so many names)
October 3: Mean Girls Day
ALSO October 3: Fullmetal Alchemist Day
October 13: Treat Yo' Self
October 20: Unnecessary Feelings Day
October 31: HALLOWEEN
November 5: honestly what didn't happen that day
November 19: Goncharov
November 29: HENRY KISSINGER IS DEAD
All of December: Will the Gävle Goat Get Destroyed Again?
December 10: Please, It's Christmas
December 12: Hawaii Part 2
December 23: Christmas Adam
December 24: ALMOST CHRISTMAS MEANS IT WASN'T CHRISTMAS
ALSO December 24: Cabinet Man Day
December 27: Porn Ban Effective Today
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k-looking-glass-house · 7 months
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Twisted Wonderland background edit~ La cité des Fleurs
Well can't be help... I'm french after all (noooo I am not doing favoritisme....)..... and the US fandom finally got the event, yay!!! Enjoy "Glorious Masquerade"!! I was.... super into those edits ha ha!! (wanted to add the Eiffel Tower...but meh...nope too far from "NBC"), enjoy some edit street with a secret Ténèbre shop with a DC collection "prêt-à-porter" instead~ Also ...thanks a lot to the twiwon staff team.... they added red geranium in those background........ for us frenchies.....it's truly important being part of our history, very heart warming and much more.... I mean it ....thank you!!!
.....let me catch everyone on tumblr ha ha!! I am so slow...
Bg asset extracted by @alchemivich
edit and concept by me
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zorosbeau33 · 2 months
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Oi, you wanna die? Zoro x Gender Neutral Reader Drabble
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❖ One Piece, Zoro x gender neutral reader
❖ Scenarios/Drabble, Established Relationship AU, Protective Boyfriend Zoro
❖ TRIGGER WARNING Unwanted advances from a third party, 18+ Only due to theme
❖ wc: 1706
❖ Prompt "You said no and they didn't listen how does your partner respond?" ❖ Masterlist ❖ Luffy Version
. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
Hope you all enjoy~ A couple people had requested more of the crew so here is Zoro for a start! I wasn't quite sure where to go with it but I think this will suffice for now!
. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
The marines didn’t seem to notice things were amiss, then again none of them probably dared to imagine the legendary Straw Hat pirates would crash a military gala. Zoro himself fidgeted behind his mask, eye sweeping the room and numbering dozens of high ranking officials. This was definitely not his scene, stuffed into a black and sparkly prince costume with black jewel encrusted mask? Yeah not his style at all. The amount of men and women he’d shrugged off, or downright snubbed tonight in favor of finding more alcohol to drink was staggering. Not that he’d noticed, after one dance that he’d only done because Nami threatened him to do it to blend in long before they’d actually broken in. Flirtations were not his strong suit, and being a firm believer in no ending all advances he was disgusted when several people tried to laugh it off and continue in their attempts to touch him. 
All of this has culminated in the pursing of his lips as he tried not to sneer in disgust. Leaning against a pillar during a brief moment of quiet to himself Zoro once again scanned the room. It was beginning to unnerve him, sure he could see Nami fitting in without any issues wrapped in the arms of a high ranking admiral. Hell he could even see precious precocious prince Sanji with a line of women waiting to dance with him. That might come to bite them in the ass soon if the jealous glares of the womens husbands and wives said anything. However Zoro believed the cook would reap what he sowed and that it was none of his business. What nagged at him however was the evident lack of…you.
For three hours they had patrolled the floor and the garden, and yet you were no where to be found. A frown did manage to tug his lips downwards when he moved around a thick crowd of people and up the stairs. Yes, he should leave it be and concentrate on the mission of extracting all the information they could while Nami stole the key off the admiral and passed it along to Luffy, Robin and Brook. But the nagging sensation of you being missing for THIS long? Nothing normally could stir him to panic-reasonable panic. His captain falling in the water or slingshotting directly at his face was reasonable panic. This was not such a time, bubbles seemed to turn to knots in his gut. His scar itched. 
Halfway up the stairs he heard it, unable to hide his reaction as he perked up swinging his head around towards the sound of a familiar laugh. Zoro felt you before he saw you, Haki registering your presence far closer to him than he had anticipated. In fact there in the middle of the group of people he had been made to work around several times, stood your glorious form. Nami had outdone herself with your outfit and Zoro had almost swallowed his tongue on the ship when he first saw you. Now even more so under the glitter and glow of the chandeliers, your laugh made the tension melt from his muscles while he stopped his prowling to take you in. In this atmosphere you were radiant, seemingly to have been born out of the most beautiful emerald just to grace the presence of those around you. The jewel encrusted mask covering your face only added to the mystery around you, causing those around you to lean in all the closer. Perhaps you needed no savior, though Zoro felt it his first duty as the man that belonged to you. Swordsmiths above he was so smitten with you, lingering on the stairs above your group to watch you, scowl melting into a tender smile. He would have to apologize to Nami and Luffy later, his sword was supposed to belong to his captain then the mission. But here the only person he could allow claim to him was your radiance. A betrayal he was sure they would understand, it was common knowledge to all of the crew that his heart and soul had found their home in your hands. 
So imagine his rage when your smile fell away into a look of shock, yanking your arm back from the grips of a pot bellied slobbering ‘gentleman’. Capable like he knew you were, you quickly extricated yourself from the pudgy admiral who reeked of weaks old cheese and beer. The gaudy prince attire nearly popping buttons off as the heavy drinker puffed himself up indignantly. Zoro would miss the next few moments as he rushed down the staircase and began to force his way through the gasping and shocked onlookers who had until this moment been fawning over your intelligence and eloquent words. His fury was three fold for he knew how hard you had practiced to learn all these speech patterns and points of talk to be a good distraction as needed by the plan. However when the noise of a slap rang out he couldn’t help but bark a command for the people in front to move.
Being all of military standing or married into, they felt his haki and heard his commands and moved apart at once. Years of training telling even the higher ranks this must be someone  with power and the gravitas of higher station To do such a thing at the military gala. Relief infantesimally warmed his cold gaze, the sound of the slap had in fact come from your strike and not the admirals. Zoro knew this man too well, he’d bought and blustered his way up to the position he was in now, and falling out of graces with Akainu’s strength based rule had resorted to underhanded trickery and binge drinking. 
“Once a sleeze ball always a sleezeball.” scoffed someone in the crowd as a woman pulled you closer to herself and away from the enraged man before you. Bits of wien splattered down his front as he spluttered and clutched his hand to his chest, beer belly nearly busting his gaudy belt buckle. 
“Admiral he started it! They told him no and he tried to force it! Should we court marshal him?” A young Captain stepped forward to report to Zoro, also taking on a defensive stance in front of you. To your credit you were playing the distressed and meak house spouse very well, although he knew just from looking your strike had most probably broken at least two of the mans meaty fingers. Thankfully it seemed his display had caused others to believe him to be an important military official rather than raise suspicion about his person. Zoro gathered himself together, he couldn’t afford to make too much of a scene here. While everyones masks and disguises made the party much safer for them to intervene. They did not need to draw to many eyes upon themselves or else the costumed Zoro’s in the crowd might jog someones mind to realize the real one was standing in front of them. After that it would only be a matter of minutes before the others would get picked out from the crowd as well. 
He needed to protect you, but in a way that would seem appropriate and take attention off of you both and quickly. Squaring his shoulders Zoro tutted and switched all his weight to his right foot, arm resting on the hilt of his single sword. Adapting the posture of a haughty admiral was not difficult it often amused him when he was a bounty hunter to see all of their posturing, the arrogance was easy to emulate. A flick of the hand had several people stepping forward seizing the admirals wrists and forcing them behind him. 
“This is a party, I advise you keep your voice down before I report your misdeeds to headquarters directly…” His deep voice rumbled and he let out a dramatic sigh. “Take him out of here without a scene, knock him out if you have to. The part-the gala is a place only those of high standing are allowed. Such behavior will not be tolerated, have him placed on trial…tomorrow morning he can sit in the cells for tonight.” 
The man bellowed his outrage, stating his rank and to unhand him right this moment. In an instant Zoro’s hand was around his skull, and squeezing. Rage turned into pain and he gasped spluttering in pain, the captains almost dropping him in shock at the speed of Zoro’s moves. 
“OI…do you wanna die?” Zoro growled lowly so only he and the two captains could hear. They froze and stared in shock and fear. The rage he had felt upon seeing the man place his hand on you without your consent, causing his pupils to dilate. Haki spreading over his fingertips hidden only by the gloves that accented his outfit. Blood pounding in his ears, ready to lay this man to sleep for his crime. The smell of the admiral wetting himself hardly registering to his senses, how dare this scum…Barely reeling himself in Zoro leaned back out and let him go. “You already placed your hands on my partner and now you disgrace this place. Get him out of our sight.” 
Turning quickly on his heel Zoro took his handkerchief out and wiped the makeup from the admiral off his fingers in a show of disgust. Reeling in his rage before stopping in front of you again, thanking the woman in a low murmur as he took you from her grip. People bowed and scuttled out of his way while he hurriedly guided you away to the gardens, arm wrapped securely around your waist. Once in the open air he sighed in relief and slowed down checking on you now as he readied himself for Nami to beat him over the head once you returned to the ship. Yes you could have defended yourself, and you certainly had but he would always be here to ensure that you would be okay. Even if you teased him for his bad acting skills for the rest of his life, you being safe and your boundaries being respected were far more than worth it in his mind.
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wildfloweronwheels · 10 days
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Back in 2021, upon the re-release of her version of ‘Red’, Taylor Swift described the album as her “first real exploration of adult heartbreak’. All scarlet hues and secret oaths, scarves lost to time and vibrant aches in colour so bright she was left blinded.
Well if that was her first, this is her glorious second. All sepia tones and maps made from scars. It’s black, white and shades of grey, the life that swam down the drain. It's rings that never came and veils worn in death (not marriage), baby names tucked away and a knight come to save the day. Except while he was meant to be healing wounds, he was building a second tomb.
- An extract from my review of The Tortured Poets Department which you can read here
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twiwoncrackpopcorn · 6 months
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Twisted Wonderland “Twst-and-Drag” Series #22 ~ Won't this be a Glorious Masquerade (part.3 FIN) ?
It took a while to get this one (in three parts) done, but let's say this is still in time for the US release as the 5th and last chapter of the Event Story was released this week for them xD
You can find more under the hashtag #NRC twst-and-drag & the summary post is pinned on my page so feel free to visit, subscribe, screenshot-and-reblog.
Have fun~~
Queen of Hearts Rules:    ✔ screenshot & reblog results   ✔ tag friends    ✔ comment with reactions    ✔ use for headcanons & fanfictions   ||    ✖ download & repost the gifs    ✖  edit gifs with another title    ✖  claim as yours or found on Google    ✖  be rude in comments ヾ(。ꏿ﹏ꏿ)ノ゙
Credits: edits made by @k-looking-glass-house and myself, loosely based on the games assets extracted by @alchemivich
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torchwood-99 · 5 months
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" the P. of Ithilien would be the resident march-warden of Gondor, in its main eastward outpost - and also would have many duties in rehabilitating the lost the dreadful vale of Minas Ithil (Morgul)."
I'm fascinated by this extract from a letter by Tolkien, detailing Faramir's role as Prince of Ithilien. Thinking of how Faramir said to Eowyn they would go to Ithilien and there build a garden, and Eowyn said she would be a healer, and how that conjures quiet soft, gentle imagery.
But reading this, and thinking of how one of Faramir's duties would have been rehabilitating a land overcome with evil, which meant destroying the evil within, means that he and Eowyn had a bloody and dangerous job on their hands. Healing this land, growing a garden in this land, was no retirement.
Thinking also of how Tolkien described Eowyn as no "amazon" or "soldier" but at the same time not being a "dry nurse by temperament" and "being capable of great military gallantry in a time of crisis" makes me think of living in this outpost and working to rehabilitate Minas Morgul would have often called for Eowyn to draw on that military gallantry.
And how he reiterates that the caretaking, "dry nurse" role she was shoved into was not her true nature (backed up by Gandalf's own speech when he explains her despair to Eomer) , and therefore it is improbable that after healing she would return to that role. When she becomes a healer, it will not be as a ministering angel; gentle, soothing and kind in the face of horrors, a bloody hard role even when it is a calling and not just something picked for you because you're a woman and therefore good at it. It was be a harsher sort of healing, not harsh on Eowyn (and sort of healing can be harsh on the healer) but one that calls on Eowyn to be harsh. One that requires cutting away and tearing down; like amputating a limb, so that corruption cannot spread or so that something better can take its place.
Eowyn wishes to become a healer and a gardener, but look at how Tolkien describes her husband's; and therefore her own, duties, and look at how he describes her nature. Eowyn will still be called on to fight. She make use of that military gallantry. What hasn't changed isn't that Eowyn is no longer a fighter, neither her nature nor her circumstances post marriage can be reconciled with that, it's that now she will be fighting for life, not glorious death. Fighting so that the world can heal, and a garden can grow.
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mixelation · 6 months
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reborn au, deidara POV. start of the chunin exams
Deidara sat across the desk from the Hokage, wedged between Itachi and Tori. Oonoki, and any commanding officer below him, would have made him stand, even if he was bleeding out. 
Minato, meanwhile, tended to make meetings feel more like a conversation. Brief communications were done standing, but for their longer meetings he’d gesture for them to pull up chairs and then lean back casually in his own seat. He usually didn’t even complain if someone interrupted him with questions. 
(Which Team 4 did. A lot. Because Itachi and Tori were both assholes who thought they were smarter than they were. Deidara, meanwhile, only had the most salient of interruptions.)
MInato did this even with super serious missions, like his insane plot to have them enter the Iwa Chunin Exam as cover to extract a Konoha prisoner.
Deidara wasn’t sure if Minato was so casual for all his shinobi, or if being on his wife’s team got them special privileges. Kushina-sensei had, in fact, chosen to sit on the desk rather than a chair, the backs of her sandals clunking against the wood. But even if it was just a perk of being on Kushina-sensei’s team, Deidara would take this lax style over anything Iwa ever put him through. 
“Iwa sent their finalized list of contraband,” Minato said, voice cheerful. He held up a stack of papers. “I’ll read them to you. It’s pretty intense.”
The list was… lengthy. And sort of insane. They banned them from bringing in their own weapons, promising to provide adequate replacements upon arrival. They also banned all fuinjutsu related material, including any type of paper or writing utensil, and then an increasingly unhinged list of items which seem to pose no real danger to Deidara. 
Minato’s voice cracked at reading the phrase “nectars and other viscous juices,” and then he turned and coughed a couple times to cover up laughter. 
Kushina-sensei was also covering a smile with one hand. 
“Did they put an insane person in charge of communications?” Deidara asked. 
“No, they…” Minato had to pause a moment to get ahold of himself again. “They really, really don’t want you sneaking in a Hiraishin marker. Or making a new one.”
“Sorry,” Kushina-sensei told them, not looking the least bit sorry. “They’re probably only this paranoid because I’m your sensei.”
This did make sense to Deidara. The Iwa he’d grown up in, in the other timeline, had been one in which the Yellow Flash was dead and gone, and the man was still haunting old people’s nightmares. Some of Deidara’s older Academy texts had been from before his death, and they’d included insane protocols for what to do if he showed up on the field. Not a Konoha ninja, not a ninja with a specific technique– just him. No other Kage had such an honor. 
He could only imagine the sort of cultural anxiety Minato was inflicting on Iwa just by existing. 
The idea was sort of exiting, actually. All that fear and anxiety building up for years, just waiting for someone to come along and end it all in one glorious moment–
Tori elbowed him. To Minato, she asked, “Will they give us fuinjutsu supplies too, or do we have to get creative?”
Minato’s lips quirked upwards. 
“They will give you fuinjutsu supplies,” he said. “A village only makes money off an exam if they can show off promising genin, and I convinced them it would be necessary for you to give a good show.”
“But I don’t get any?” Kushina-sensei clarified. 
Any Iwa-nin who’d done two seconds of research on Uzumaki Kushina would want to ban her from even touching a brush forever. Even if she hadn’t gotten famous off of murder like he had, she and Minato came as a set: half his techniques were from her, and if anyone was going to be making Hiraishin markers and spreading them around, it would be her. 
“I don’t know how they’ll enforce Tori having access but not you,” Minato admitted. “Supervision, maybe.”
Itachi cleared his throat. “You're sure this isn’t an ambush?” he asked. 
This seemed like a good point to Deidara. They were basically just agreeing to waltz into Iwa completely weaponless and submit to whatever asshole demands Iwa might make. And like, someone like Deidara could do it, but it would be super annoying.
Minato took a moment to answer, gathering his thoughts. 
“It might be,” he said, tone suddenly deadly serious. “But their doors will be open to plenty of foreign powers, and they’ve already advertised a team from Konoha. A move against us would be very, very stupid of them.” He let a humorless smile cross his lips. “Besides, I intentionally picked a team that could still function even with every disadvantage they might give you.”
Next to him, Tori shifted uneasily. Deidara didn’t think she was nervous for herself, because Tori had wandered into worse with no ninja skills whatsoever and came out on top. It was that there was no way Minato knew that, because Tori liked to downplay her talents at every turn. She had worked her way into the mission plan as a competent fuinjutsu user, but he probably wasn’t including her in his super special hand-picked team. 
(And also, if you evaluated Tori the way you would in a classroom– throw this knife here, use this type of kick, demonstrate this particular move– she was pretty mediocre, even for a twelve year old. Tori only seemed intimidating after she’d tricked into doing something deeply stupid and then was waving some insane seal in your face.)
Deidara wasn’t even sure Minato was including him, even though he ranked right up there with Kushina-sensei and Itachi in terms of “has an absurd bloodline limit, good luck taking THAT away.” It seemed more likely he and Tori got signed up to be semi-expendable benchwarmers, and any talents they ended up displaying were just a nice perk.  
The thought made him angry. Minato might seem way cooler than Oonoki, but they were all the same, weren’t they? Minato would definitely abandon him and Tori to save his precious Konoha-born shinobi. 
Tori must be putting thought into what she would do without weapons, because she remarked, “It’s such overkill to ban all paper, though. If I already wasn’t using sealing paper, I wouldn’t be like, ‘Oh, no regular paper either? Guess I’ll just give up.’”
Deidara attempted to reel in his temper. This was Tori probing the waters of what she could get away with. She was infuriatingly cautious about it, in Deidara’s opinion, but her paranoid little brain would be better attuned to when they might have to jump ship. He should let her take lead on this and not upset himself. 
Kushina-sensei flashed her teeth at Tori. “No, obviously if you’re good enough, you can make any flat surface work. I assume that’s why they banned…. hand mirrors.”
There was a long pause while Kushina-sensei and Tori stared at each other, presumably contemplating what chaos they could cause with a hand mirror. 
Minato’s swivel chair groaned as he leaned back, dropping his papers on his desk. 
“It’s a moot point,” he said. “Tori, we don’t use untested seals in the field, and you can’t count on any seal that works on paper to work anywhere else. There’s a reason we use sealing paper. No hand mirror seals, okay?”
Hand mirrors were only the tip of the iceberg of insane shit Tori might try, but she plastered a meek smile on her face and agreed anyway. 
Disgusting, Deidara thought. He trusted this version of Tori to save his ass if they suddenly had to abandon ship, but she was also the worst possible version of herself. Unartistic. 
Itachi changed the subject again. “The overall mission is getting convoluted. How will Kushina get to Morino with fuinjutsu supplies if we may be supervised so closely? What are we going to do about Deidara’s explosion release?”
Tori opened her mouth, perhaps to suggest her own plan, only to close it and glance at Kushina-sensei. Ugh. 
“We’ll just wing it,” Kushina-sensei said with full confidence. 
Deidara turned to confirm that yes, Itachi did look like his brain had just exploded.  Also seeing this, Tori said to him, “It’s okay. You can’t actually keep a fuinjutsu master from smuggling things wherever they want.”
Now Minato looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t quite sure where to start. 
“I have an idea on how to distract them from Deidara,” Kushina-sensei said, twisting her torso to face Minato. “But they’ll eventually, uh… notice some things.”
Deidara clenched his fists, his nails digging into the bottom lips of his hand-mouths. Minato drummed his fingers on the desk. 
“It’s tricky, but they don’t have a verifiable claim on him,” Minato replied. He eyed Deidara. “Do you have a preferred cover-up story?”
“...no,” Deidara admitted. 
He didn’t like that Iwa thought they owned him, but he’d never had strong feelings about his family origins. They were assholes that treated him like shit, and he’d left. That was it. 
They kicked around a few ideas, ranging from gaslighting everyone that Deidara’s explosions had nothing to do with Iwa’s only bloodline limit, to claiming he was an old experiment of Orochimaru. They didn’t come to any sort of real conclusion, and eventually Minato said he’d sleep on it and dismissed them. 
“Deidara, can I talk to you for a moment?” Minato asked. Deidara narrowed his eyes at him, and from his peripheral vision he saw Tori flash a hand sign which was almost definitely Behave.
He crossed his arm and remained sitting while everyone else filed out. Kushina-sensei twirled in her seat so she could duck down and give Minato a peck on the cheek first. Gross. 
When they were alone, Minato asked, “How do you feel about this mission?”
“It’s a mission, yeah,” Deidara replied slowly, trying to parse what he was actually being asked. Loyalty, maybe. His father was an Iwa-nin, even if he’d never met him. He added, “I don’t really like undercover missions, but it’s fine if I get to do some art. If I get a promotion and a nice paycheck out of it, all the better.” 
Deidara still wasn’t sure he wanted to stay in Konoha, but the prospect of a steady income after being a child wandering-nin no one wanted to hire was incredibly alluring. Income meant he could have a bed, maybe even rent an art studio if Konoha Jounin got paid well. These fantasies weren’t enough to make him even consider going back to a hellhole that was Iwa, but if all Konoha had to torture him was a pushy sensei who got him in good with the Hokage, he’d take it. 
“I know you intentionally fled Iwa,” Minato said, his voice… soft for some reason. Weird. “I understand going back might be uncomfortable.”
“I’ve never been to Iwa,” Deidara defended immediately. He’d made damn sure to leave Earth Country as soon as he could, and they hadn’t even been able to put him through any of their stupid ninja aptitude tests in this timeline. 
Minato put up both hands as a calming gesture. 
“I know, I know,” he replied. “But you have their bloodline limit. You grew up outside of a village, so this might not be obvious to you yet, but your art is going to link you Iwa permanently. I don’t want to send you into Iwa unprepared.”
Deidara had to spend a few moments grinding his teeth to hold back rude words. Of course he knew. Iwa had bred him to be their perfect little killing machine.  
“It’s not Iwa’s bloodline limit,” Deidara replied eventually. “It’s mine, yeah. I decide what it’s for and what I do with it. That’s the whole point of my art, yeah.”
Minato raised both eyebrows. “Alright,” he said. “Good. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
He dismissed him, leaving him with a strange promise that his door was always open if Deidara wanted to “talk.” Whatever. 
As he hopped down the stairs of Hokage tower two at a time, Deidara found himself surprised Minato had agreed that his bloodline limit was his own, separate from a village’s control. Probably a manipulation to keep Deidara away from any temptations to join Iwa. There was no way Minato would say Itachi’s eyeballs were for himself only and not Konoha, or that Kushina should use her chakra chains for anything but Konoha’s wellbeing. Villages just didn’t work like that. 
Not that Deidara would complain about special treatment…
Tori was waiting for him outside, leaning against an outside wall. They started the walk back to the genin dorms. 
“What’d he want?” she asked. 
Deidara rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “He wanted to know how I felt, yeah. Stupid.”
Tori frowned. “And how do you feel?” she asked. 
“Like you and him are both annoying, yeah,” Deidara replied. “Also, what the hell is with you twiddling your thumbs and acting stupid whenever anyone asks about fuinjutsu–”
Tori rolled her eyes right back at him. This was an ongoing argument. Deidara understood her reasoning for downplaying her talents; he just thought it was stupid. Just because Orochimaru was a manipulative scumbag didn’t mean every ninja wanted to push and push until she had a screaming breakdown. Most villages did this very slowly and steadily in a very predictable, soul-crushing kind of way.  
Somehow, Tori looped his rant at her back around. “I mean, if you have feelings about me and Oto, you definitely have some feelings about you and Iwa,” she said. “Are you going to be able to keep it together, seeing it?”
Deidara scowled at her. She’d worded it ambiguously because they were in public, but there was a definite seeing it AGAIN implied in there. And obviously Deidara didn’t want to go to Iwa, but that was the mission she and Itachi had signed him up for. He was an adult, if not physically. He could handle being annoyed by Iwa-nin for a month. 
“Obviously,” he told Tori. Then he grabbed her arm and yanked her down a side street, changing the subject entirely. “There’s a new take-out place down here. We should get dinner, yeah.”
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hydroj1ns · 8 months
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lisa breastfeeding thoughts…
ima be honest i need her to breastfeed me like i genuinely don’t know how much longer i can take it i just want to grope her supple chest and lead it to my mouth to suckle on it
sometimes you can’t help but focus your eyes on her fat tits that are practically spilling out of her tight dress. sometimes when the wind is particularly strong, it pushes the fabric in between her legs to outline her panties.
and sometimes when you’re studying in the knights of favonius library you hear heels clacking on mahogany floors followed by a thump and you turn around to see the glorious sight of the woman’s fat ass bent over to pick up the books dropped to the floor
and sometimes you’ve had one too many drinks with ms. lisa so you two go back to her office where she shoves you down on the leather couch and straddles you, pressing her clothed pussy on your thigh, grinding slowly. when she simply pulls down on the front of her low-hanging dress, revealing soft, perky tits that recoiled with the motion. you cant look away, and she pulls your head down so your face is enveloped in the pillowy breasts.
you latch onto a nipple, sucking and biting at it as she rubs herself faster on your leg, and you can feel the wetness of her cunt.
“… you’ve ruined your panties ms. lisa.”
she only hums and circles her arms around your neck, bringing your face up to kiss you deeply. you grope her breast with one hand as she guides your other one to her now sopping panties. as she presses your fingers inside of her, she adds two of her own and searches for that bundle of nerves inside her. following her lead, you continuously abuse that spot, coaxing soft moans from her.
you bring your other hand back to one of her breasts, clutching at it to resume your suckling. your lips seal around the areola and you bite the hardened nipple until you taste spurts of creaminess. she drives your fingers deeper inside her as you extract as much of her glorious milk as you can.
it dribbles down your chin when you finally remove your mouth from her chest, and you immediately shove your tongue down her throat, sharing her own buttery taste with her.
you shift your thumb hard against her clit, and she finally cums. she pushes your chest to break the kiss, and looks down at her bosom to see it wet with white substance. she looks a mess: hair disheveled, white liquid leaking onto her dress, heavy tits shiny with your saliva and her breast milk.
she meets your eyes once again and moves her well-manicured fingers to her other unused nipple, pinching it to squirt a steady stream of milk squirt out onto your shirt. not wanting to waste any more of her taste, you latch onto it again as she continues letting the milk out. when the flow stops, you begin licking the excess liquid on her chest.
afterwards, she whispers into your ear, “thank you for helping me, darling. it’s hard to do focus on work at the library when i can feel my bra getting wet.”
you reply slowly, “i could… help you with your… issues. i really don’t mind.”
with the taste of her milk still on your tongue, you hoped that this would become a regular occurrence.
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saylorsaysstop · 7 months
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Scared | Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader
a/n: i needed a lil bit of angst and also wanted a first-time dad!Stephen fic so... i combined them. here you go 😭
warnings: bit of angst, talks of childbirth (nothing explicit), anxiety
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The hours seemed to tick on forever. Another few nerve-stricken paces and Stephen Strange was positive he’d burn a hole into the linoleum floors. 
As a surgeon, he had never been nervous performing a procedure. He was the greatest neurosurgeon out there and no one could take away his title. His calm reserve, his steady hand. He was quintessentially perfect. Anxiety didn’t grip him in its vice. 
Until the accident. He finally was made aware of his emotions and how delicate he truly could become. He discovered his unwavering ability to exhaust emotion; tears, sadness, happiness, love. It all came like a tidal wave upon his metaphorical shoreline when you happened. When you walked into his life, he discovered that he could feel all of those emotions, sometimes all at once. But fear was the least felt. 
Until today. Today he felt fear. He never wanted to experience such a cruel emotion but as he watched you writhe in pain and cry for him to make it stop while knowing this was one problem he couldn’t solve with the wave of his hand, that nature must take its course, he grew scared. He had been waiting for this moment ever since those two lines appeared on the pregnancy test, after the initial shock of oh wow, I’m going to be a dad after not wanting kids, and today in the delivery room, mournful that he couldn’t be more for you than just a hand to squeeze and a shoulder to cry on… and bite. He wasn’t expecting teeth marks on his skin today, but he’d let you do it a million times over if it meant he could get you through this.
“You’re doing so good, baby. I promise. It’s almost over.” he had encouraged you with both hands clasped through yours, his body leaning over the edge of the bed as you worked through every single ache and pain. You held him like a vice until you were dizzy, his voice the only thing holding you to the bed. You blocked out the voices of the doctors, nurses, you only desired Stephen’s encouragement through such a trauma as this.
And when the pain ceased and you felt a sudden emotion of emptiness, the one thing that only you had held on the inside for nine months was extracted from your being, you felt numb. 
Stephen held you tightly, awaiting that glorious sound all parents mewled about. His hands were trembling in yours as he waited, and waited, and waited. 
“Come on, sweetheart. Cry.” Stephen whispers to a little girl who couldn’t hear him. “What’s going on?” he demands, using the voice he reserved for the operating room. 
He hears the doctor and nurse's correspondence. 
“Fluid in the lungs” - “Can’t breathe” - “Lips are blue”. 
Quickly, his mind whirred and he knew what was happening. His baby girl had entered the world essentially lifeless. He turns to you, feeling as you force yourself up in the hospital bed by way of his arm. You clutch his forearm in a death grip despite your strength having been drained, the wave of adrenaline pulsing through your veins as you struggle to overhear. 
“What is going ON?!” you scream at the top of your lungs, pain surging throughout your limbs. You were a brand new mother who hadn’t got to see your daughter’s face and more importantly hear her cry. 
“Honey, I need you to lie back down,” Stephanie coaxes, kissing your forehead that was slick with sweat. You look up at your husband whose eyes are fixated on you. “Take some breaths for me, alright?” He knows you’re on the verge of panic so he quickly reaches above the hospital bed to grab the oxygen mask. 
“Stephen!” you exclaim, lungs aching. He shushes you and closes his hands around yours. He wouldn’t dare let his resolve down, not now. You needed him more than ever and he couldn’t let you see him fall apart, even though he wanted to bombard those working on his baby and the cause. 
“She’s going to be okay. We’ve got to let them look at her.” He smothers his face against your hair, reaches up, and strokes your scalp, “That’s my girl, nice deep breaths. I need you to stay calm for her. Can you do that for our little girl, sweetheart?” 
You nod your head. Your ears were ringing so loud after she came out that you didn’t overhear what Stephen did. 
“I-I’m scared,” you blubber. 
Stephen can feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes. I am too, baby. I am too he thinks to himself. 
“There’s no need to be scared. I’ll be scared for us both.” Stephen kisses your temple before moving to your lips, tasting the saltwater tears that had fallen to your mouth. 
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That was hours ago. Stephen continued to pace the floors. The last he heard was that his daughter was being taken to the NICU for further observation and to be stabilized. Fortunately, Christine had stopped by a few times to check in. She of course had no updates for the two of you, but she was there as a means of emotional support. Each time she snuck in quietly, she’d find a pacing Stephen who she only sighed at. 
“Have you sat down?” Christine whispered, seeing as you were finally asleep. Stephen shakes his head as Christine grabs his hand, forcing him to stop. “Stephen. You need to sit.” she leads him to the chair but he shakes his head.
“No, Christine, I need–,”
“To be a supportive husband and great father. You can’t do that when youre footprints are embedded into the floor.” she chuckles quietly but turns serious upon seeing his wary expression. She licks her lips and sighs. “If that little girl is anything like you? She won’t give up. She’ll be a fighter. But she needs a father who can remain strong for her… You can’t stay strong if you’re exhausting yourself. The same goes for her,” Christine looks over at you. “She needs you to lean against during this which means she needs you relaxed and alert. But pacing won’t do anything.”
Stephen draws in a sharp breath and finally takes a seat upon Christine’s pushing of his shoulders. She smiles at him and pats his shoulder. 
“Everything’s going to be okay, Stephen.”
He sure hoped so. “Thank you,” he nods his head, appreciative of her friendship despite their past. He squeezes her hand just before she removes it from his shoulder. 
“Try and squeeze in a cat nap. You’ll feel better.” 
He chuckles, knowing sleep was out of the question entirely. But rather than arguing with her, he nods his head in agreement. When Christine left and Stephen was left alone with his thoughts, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine him finally holding his daughter, and how relief would wash over him the moment he could see her. That’s how he managed to close his eyes and relax. He did it for his two girls. You and that precious little one fighting upstairs. 
An hour or so later, when the door to your room opened, Stephen’s eyes bolted open and he was up on his feet in seconds. The woman who delivered your daughter enters the room, pushing a tiny glass cart. Stephen’s heart thudded wildly in his chest, realization washing over him at just who this sweet little visitor could be.
“Hi, Dad,” the doctor whispers. 
Stephen gasped quietly at the sight, that relief he clung to after Christine left washing over him. “How is she?” he asks. 
“She scared us there for a little while.. she came so fast that she swallowed some fluid on the way out, but she’s perfectly healthy. I didn’t want to wake Mom up. I know she’s been anxious, but would you like to hold your little girl?”
Stephen felt a rush of emotion. He never wanted kids. He thought they were irritabilities, tiny humans who would annoy him forever. He was one of those people who when the kid ran around the dinner table in a restaurant after being told to stop, would smirk when they finally smacked their forehead against the surface. Christine normally always kicked him in the shin under the table and then you started doing it when you began dating. But that all changed the morning you approached him with trembling hands and a positive pregnancy test. 
“Yes, please,” Stephen whispers, looking over at you. He was grateful you had finally succumbed to the clutches of sleep. He wasn’t sure how much longer you could keep going, as you were nearing 48 hours of no sleep at all. 
The doctor smiles and motions him to sit in the chair beside your bed. She rolls the glass cart over to him and looks down at the sleeping bundle. “She didn’t get to have skin-to-skin with Y/N so would you like to do that? She can do it also when she wakes up, but we find that skin-to-skin holds many benefits.”
Stephen nods his head as the doctor lists the positives such as bonding, regulation of body temperature, and heart rate, among others, tears burning the corners of his eyes. He quickly unbuttons his shirt and pulls it open, his heart racing even faster when the doctor carefully picks up his daughter and leads her to his chest. She rests the baby on top of him and immediately, Stephen feels like a brand new man. The softness and warmth of her skin against his made his serotonin level skyrocket and caused more tears to freely fall. 
“Congratulations, Dad,” she whispers in the dimly lit room. “We just fed her in the nursery but when Mama wakes up, we’ll let her try feeding her. Call if you need anything,” 
Stephen nods his head and watches the doctor leave, gently closing the door behind her. He looks down at the new life snuggled against him. Her eyes peel open, naturally blue irises glassy as she moves her lips. Stephen could already see you within her. Her sweet little nose, the curl of her lips. He took a small peek under the hat, the tiniest wisps of brown hair visible, sending the new father into a chokehold. 
“Oh, my darling girl,” Stephen coos. “You gave Mommy and I quite the scare today… Yes, you did. But I’m so glad you’re here. Do you know who I am? You’ve heard my voice every single day… Whether I was telling you and Mommy how much I love you or bickering with Wong. You’ve heard it. I’m your Daddy,” the words fall like water from his mouth and his chest tightens as he dubs himself with the title. Daddy. He’s a father. 
The baby girl gently closes her eyes, lips smacking as she remains rested on his chest. Stephen ran his fingertip up and down her spine, bewildered by how soft she was. He glances over at your sleeping form. He smiles, being the proudest he’s ever been since the day he proposed and the day he wed you. He had you to thank for all of this. His little family. The only family he’s known other than those he’s encountered on his journey. 
“My sweet Tessa… Yes, you’re my special girl, aren’t you? I promise. I may not do everything right in life but I’ll do right by you. Thank you for changing my life,” the tears flow without warning as Stephen presses his quivering lips to the side of her head, squeezing his lids shut as he snuggles her closer. You stir gently and awake to the sight of your husband holding your newborn, your heart fluttering. 
“She’s okay?” You ask hoarsely. 
Stephen’s head lifts at the noise and a smile of relief greets his face. He looked exhausted and you felt bad that he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep except for his small power nap. He wouldn’t dare miss out on anything. 
“She’s perfect, sweetheart. You did it.” 
The look of utter pride glows on his face. You feel your lungs refill with fresh air as you wince, moving to sit up gently. “Can I?” 
Stephen chuckles quietly. “How could you ask me something like that? Of course, you can. Tessa, let’s meet your beautiful Mommy, yeah? I know, I know,” he shushes her as she starts to pout her lips, a pitiful cry on the verge of slipping. Your body felt like electricity had just been shot throughout it, the excitement bubbling. 
“Here, let’s unbutton this,” Stephen holds Tessa in one arm while he helps you unbutton your hospital gown. Once your chest is exposed, Stephen places Tessa on you and you fall apart the moment you touch her. Your lips quiver and the tears spill.
“Oh my God,” you whisper, kissing her. You drew in a deep breath, Tessa’s scent making you cry even more. Stephen slips into bed beside you and carefully puts one arm around you while holding his other hand over yours that’s currently on Tessa. “S-she’s perfect,” you cry. 
Stephen wipes his eyes through a sniffle. 
“She is,” he can’t help but agree. “I’ve never seen someone so little,” 
You giggle softly, kissing her head as you lean into your husband’s chest. “We’re parents, Stephen. We have a daughter.” 
He smirks, his eyes resting on you. He leans in and kisses your lips tenderly, savoring the taste. As he pulls away, both of you turn your attention down to your newest addition, your hearts soaring over the moon.
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smallgodseries · 9 months
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[image description: A chocolate bar whose in gold foil has been pulled back, revealing bits of its silver underside and the profile of a stunning woman.Her name ‘Thea Bromeaux ‘ is molded in 3 lines onto the tops of the chocolate squares. Text (on the gild and black band around the chocolate bar) reads, “43 ~ The Small God of Chocolate”]
She is a very old god, one whose position in the pantheon has been gentrified in recent years, elevated above her previous heights, but rendered frivolous in the same brushstroke, her holy rites and rituals reduced to gas station cocoa machines and waxy bars studded with nuts and currants, filled with over-sweetened caramel and artificial mint.  She has seen her stature dwindle from something rare and revered into a figure of light mockery and antic children’s pleasures, and she is not overjoyed by this change.  Nor should she be.  Nor would any god, young or old, be pleased to be once so great and glorious, and then remade so small.
But.
But still she is beloved, will always be beloved, is kept in open and in secret. She sweetens the kisses of lovers and enhances the savor of chefs, and with each new generation of believers she looms large as the sky once again.  The childish voice who begs for sweets may not speak with the same slow reverence as a priest who held the secret to extracting her pleasures from the fresh cacao bean, but the faith and the purity of belief is the same.
But.
But still she is important, still she is needed, still she is wanted.  She soothes the pain of loves lost or loves unrequited, clinging to fingertips and sticking to lips, the sweetest cosmetic ever known, home in the hands of her adherents.
But.
But her faith may be dwindled and yet she knows, with all her heart, that it will rise again, as the food scientists and the molecular gastronomists chase her secrets down every convoluted chemical pathway and into every hidden cul-de-sac of flavor.  They will tease her fully into the light, and for some gods, that might spell the end; that might mean passing from belief into knowledge, where no divinity can live.  Fortunately for Thea, the rules are different for the culinary gods, who understand always that they can be understood but never fully comprehended, and whose faithful will always fall to her with nothing more than a single, simple kiss.
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acrosstheunivcrse · 10 months
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distractions (jesse pinkman x reader)
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smut below, minors dni
warnings: smut, oral (on male), throat fucking, degradation, punishment
jesse stood in your shared kitchen, on the phone with walt. as you watched him discuss a future deal, a filthy idea popped into your head that you couldn’t seem to kick.
you approached jesse as he leaned on the kitchen counter, a mischievous glint in your eyes. he gave you a questioning look as he listened to walt ramble on, with you only offering an innocent smile in return.
slowly, you got on your knees in front of him and looked up. he looked down at you, now knowing exactly what you’d been intending to do.
breathing heavily, he watched your hands unzip his jeans. seeing him try desperately to keep his composure while mumbling quick “mhm”s of affirmation to walt’s words was a glorious sight.
you pulled his hardening cock out of his boxers, kissing up the base to the tip. he stifled a moan as he felt you take him fully into your mouth, covering the receiver.
jesse was never one to be quiet during sex, especially not while he was having his cock sucked by you. you were pushing every limit of his as you continued to lick up and down his length. you could feel his tangible frustration as his replies to walt would get shorter and shorter, the battle to stay quiet nearing impossible levels for him.
once you licked around his tip, he fully lost it and quickly said a bullshit excuse to walt as to why he had to leave.
slamming the phone back onto the table, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you off of him harshly.
“you insatiable fucking bitch. can’t go without my dick in your mouth for five fucking minutes, can you? i’ll show you exactly what you get for pulling that shit.” he growled, looking down at you.
pushing your head against the side of the counter, he shoved his cock back into your mouth with force and started to fuck your throat, groans spilling from him. teary eyed, you tried your best not to gag and to take him like he’d taught you to do. despite the pain in his roughness, the sounds that you were extracting from him made it entirely worth it.
as he kept rutting his leaking cock into your mouth, you could feel him getting close.
“you gonna let me cum on that pretty face? hmm?” he stated more-so than asked, as you nodded as well as you could while taking his length.
he quickly pulled out, jerking himself over your face and letting out strangled groans as you felt the warm liquid roll over your skin, catching some on your tongue. tucking his cock away and taking a step back, he admired the mess that he’d made of you.
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