#should i be exposing the inner workings of my brain like this

[l4long-winded]

o.s. fresh, unwilting daisies

summary: carmen gets possessive after your ex boyfriend stops by and leaves you a bouquet of daisies (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

reflection: wrote this yesterday and edited it today. i have received a few requests in my inbox if anyone is interested in leaving me some more, i'll get to those as soon as i can. let's relish in the collective carmy brain rot together <3 please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: cursing, cynicism, reader has an ex boyfriend, inner monologue, carmen's pov, filth, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, possessive!carmen, jealous!carmen, praise, multiple orgasms, use of "sweet girl," reader doesn't like daisies (they're pretty, let's pretend, sorry to all the daisy lovers), past relationship, donna mention, office setting, p in v sex, dom!carmen (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 1,750

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid motherfucker. Who does he think he is? Waltzing into Carmen’s restaurant, the cuffs of his dirt infested denim jeans dragging over Carmen’s pristine floor, said denim jeans hanging low on his hips like an asshole who can’t even present himself to you as an individual who actually gives a fuck. Grant didn’t hold the common courtesy to put on a belt, and Carmen doesn’t believe the man owns one, but if he’s going to saunter in and try and request time with you, Carmen’s girlfriend, then he should at least be decent and dress like he’s attempting to win you back and not as if he just got home after a hard day’s work of laying down brick. Grant doesn’t have a job so that explanation for his asshole outfit and his asshole beanie and his asshole demeanor is not worth excusing him, especially not as he smugly leaned over Carmen’s counter and let his jacket covered elbows smear his Grant-ness all over the surface. Carmen had no choice but to wipe it down with high-grade sanitizer, scrubbing away as if he could scrub away Grant completely out of your and Carmen’s life, since they’re entangled with one another now whether Grant likes it or not.

Carmen shifts his tongue within you utilizing a bit more pressure, undulating the pink muscle in and out until he forms the shape of a well to scoop your slick and curl it into his fervent, perpetual mouth. He gulps you down into the back of his throat, exhaling against your folds at the satisfying, addicting drink equivalent to a desert traveler’s first and desperate swallow of refreshing water. Carmen breathes your scent since it permeates throughout his office space and your wetness coats his cheeks and the tip of his nose, inhaling and exhaling air that causes your thighs to twitch in his hands at the sensation. He ought to be kinder to you, you’re sensitive from the two orgasms he’s endlessly worked out of your cunt, and it’s not your fault Grant continues to be an annoying fixture in your atmosphere having denied his pleas time and time again, but every time Carmen locks eyes with Grant’s lazy, complacent gaze, Carmen feels a surge of jealousy within him compelling him to mark his territory and reinforce the notion of you being his and his alone. Sure, you dated Grant first, but in Carmen’s eyes, you belong to him like you’ve never belonged to anyone.

“Mine,” he utters, slipping his tongue out to lick his puffy, swollen lips clean, exposing his line of thinking as he presses a kiss to your clit, growling and slightly smirking to find the little button still pulsing for him with need. His fingernails dig into the meat of your thighs as you attempt to clamp them around his head, and normally he would let you, but he holds them spread and open for him so he can continue to lap you into the whining mess you’re becoming atop his desk. The downside is how each of those adoring and pleasant sounds are muffled due to your palm actively pressing down against your lips, “good girl” muttered because that’s what he told you to do for him when you started and you’ve done an excellent job of quieting yourself while he practically drowns himself in your cunt. He doesn’t miss the whimper you reward him with at the praise, his right hand generously kneading the flesh of your thigh as a sign that he’s almost done, to just hang on a touch longer and allow him his fill.

“One more,” he promises, “just one more for me, sweet girl, one more,” Carmen litters your pussy and inner thighs with kiss after kiss, stamps of pure affection to calm you down and ready you for his next onslaught. He peers up at you, noticing how your body is trembling just as much as your thighs are, half your ass hanging off the edge of his desk, your upper shoulders slumping partially into the wall behind. Poor thing. Close to sobbing, your eyes glassy from the tears of pleasure that never fall from them, your shirt riding up your stomach since he only bothered to take your pants off in his rush to have you when you came in to check up on him. You deserve his fingers, and he plays around with the idea of sliding them inside you, drumming them against your skin as he thinks about stuffing you with them as his mouth closes over your clit. He’s done it in the past, he knows it would drive you to that climax he currently craves in an instant, but from scanning your disheveled features and writhing frame, his crystal blues eventually attach to the vase of daisies at the side of the two of you, taunting him as they have this entire time.

The notecard sticking out flashes Grant’s name. You don’t even like daisies, you’ve told Carmen, but Grant used to get them for you when he fucked up numerous times throughout your relationship. No matter how much you hated to accept them and therefore reinforced the habit, you would always vase them and frown as they started to immediately die the next morning. That’s who Grant is. He didn’t bother to at least buy you fresh and lively daisies, but the ones right on the verge of dying. Today, months and months into your and Carmen’s relationship, Grant stopped by with vased daisies under the intent of getting you back and they’re actually fucking beautiful, Carmen admits, but they’re pissing him the fuck off. Every glance to them sitting there has brought about this carnal desire to part your legs further for him. The flowers are taunting him, milky and lemony, an assorted arrangement plopped into a blaring, golden vase that Carmen’s mother would definitely keep if she had been gifted it herself, muttering something about hidden treasures, son while storing it away in her cabinet’s hoarding of dishes and “fine china” she gathered from the thrift store. They’re nice. Too nice. Carmen should get you some flowers, he decides to himself, flowers that you would actually like without some underlying motive, simply because he cares about you and because he wants to see your smile light up when he personally hand delivers them.

Fucking Grant. His fucking daisies are taking up too much fucking space on Carmen’s desk and he hates it, he hates that he had to move them from the front of the restaurant into his office so they wouldn’t obstruct the customers, he hates the contents of the notecard begging you to be Grant’s again as if you were ever his in the first place.

“Mine,” Carmen grunts again, lapping up your slit with the full flat of his tongue, dragging it to relish in your taste, in the moan you choke out against your hand, his nose catching between your folds. He glances up at the flowers, the line “want you to be mine again” ringing in his ears from when you read the note aloud to him. Well, fuck you, Grant, he thinks, it’s his tongue and mouth on your cunt and it’s his cock that’s going to be plunging in and out of you tonight on his couch, in his bed, in the shower as you brace yourself with your hands planted on his tile walls.

Fucking cry over it, motherfucker. Fuck your flowers. I’m the one fucking her.

And something… miraculous(?) happens. A single petal falls from the flowers as Carmen licks at you. He watches it swish and sway through the air, descending down until it lands right next to his hand, right on top of your thigh, his thigh.

He pushes his head in further, yanking you by your (his) thighs to meet his mouth as he simultaneously swipes away the petal like it burned you. You squeak out in surprise, your opposite hand flying down to grip the curls in his hair as you sputter above him. Carmen seals his mouth over your clit, done with the teasing, done with his thoughts, and all he wants is to send you over that blissful edge he’s pushed you towards already, stroking you with rolls of his tongue and strong suckles of his suctioned lips. You don’t even last a minute, swaddled pleas of something resembling his name being cried out into your hand, your head bumping into the wall behind as you cream around nothing. He glances down, petting your cunt with merciful, languid brushes of his tongue, in awe of the mess you’re soaking out onto his desk. He drops his jaw lower to catch all of it, close to licking your essence right off the surface if it weren’t for how you’re currently teetering on it. Carmen stands up, unbuckling his belt hurriedly as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, your cunt’s release once on his lips and chin now transferred to the digits and knife tattooed over it.

“Wha-… Carmy?” You ask as you sit up, only for him to pull you by your hips back into position for him. You look so dazed, fucked out beyond belief, and as he manhandles you to spreading your thighs all over again, his elbow knocks the vase of daisies with enough force to send them crashing down to the floor. The glass breaks into scattered shards, causing you to jump, but Carmen doesn’t seem to have noticed. He’s just lining himself up and pushing straight through your walls, well lubricated with his spit and your cum, having been loved on long enough for your shared coworkers to begin questioning your and his whereabouts. You actually yelp this time, grasping at his broad shoulders as you adjust and clench around him. He latches his lips to yours to mute your noises, thrusting away, pounding the cunt belonging to him and no one else, growling as he bites at your bottom lip.

As he steps his feet apart from one another to open your knees up for extra access, glass crunches under his shoe, water splashing under the sole of the other, and a few daisies are crushed as he fucks you with a quickening pace. He’s not worried about it. He’ll get you some tulips or maybe some sunflowers, something pretty for you to look at as he has you bent over the kitchen table tomorrow morning.

#l4l.writes #carmen berzatto #fresh unwilting daisies #the bear series #carmen berzatto x reader #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear hulu #carmy the bear

[medievill]

okay. okay. I think I've finally figured out the worst part of the "Ed's going to be an abuser just like his dad" headcanon some of y'all have.

let's go for a ride.

abuse is cyclical, and not just in a micro sense. it's not just "I love you, you're garbage, I'm sorry, I love you, I'm the only one who loves you because you're garbage, I'm sorry, I love you," etc. I mean macro. I mean generationally.

I mean that parents teach their children how to have relationships. we show our kids how adults interact with each other, how adults interact with kids, how kids should interact with kids. we model this behavior constantly. it's one of the most nerve-wracking things about being a parent, actually: you live in a fish bowl now, and the fish bowl is your home, and your children are constantly observing your behavior and interactions, even when you don't want them to, even when you think they're not.

growing up in a home with an abusive parent doesn't just expose you to the abuse—physical, emotional, psychological, religious, whatever it is—it teaches the child that this is how relationships work. and then this kid goes out into the world, interacting with other humans all willy-nilly, and bringing all the knowledge that their parents armed them with to bear. and when the kid (hopefully) realizes that wait, actually, shouting and throwing things and hitting people isn't good, that's not the way you interact, it is solely up to that kid to fix their shit. if they're lucky, they've got someone in their life to help them with that. but even once you've recognized that there's Bad Stuff happening in your interpersonal relationships, you have to retrain your brain. you have to change your go-to reaction. because you can recarve your neural pathways, but it is fucking hard work.

I didn't grow up with a physically abusive parent; I grew up with an emotionally abusive one. every time my partner does something that annoys me, or we disagree on something, and my reaction is "well, I don't really feel like talking"—if you don't think that I don't half- to full-on panic about wait is this the silent treatment, am I doing what my dad did, you are absolutely incorrect. it is a constant fear, that my reactions are inherently abusive. I am constantly gaslighting myself into believing that everything I do in a relationship is bad, hurtful, abusive. I am constantly having to convince myself that it's okay sometimes not to want to talk, and to sometimes be annoyed, and to sometimes disagree, and that none of this is inherently abusive.

now. Ed fucking Teach. do you not think the guy's spent some time introspecting? examining his inner most self? he's smart, and he's depressed, so, yeah. I bet he has. so do you not think, you absolute monsters, that he isn't doing the same fucking thing? Ed Teach, who convinced himself that defending him and his mom against constant violence (a white man, and as if this was a random choice)—ultimately saving their lives (and no, this is not an exaggeration)—made him an unloveable, unlikeable monster. Ed Teach, who is so desperate for love and friendship that his biggest fantasy is owning an inn, where people stay because they want to.

do you really think that one of the thousand internal battles Ed my beloved is fighting isn't don't be your dad don't be your dad don't be your dad? fighting, fucking tooth and nail, to be different. (same as Stede!) this reactionary headcanon literally misses so much of the point of the whole character; it buys into the British Navy's propaganda about him, and worse. it buys into the narrative that a man of color is inherently violent, inherently incapable of change.

#tw: abuse #tw: domestic abuse #tw: emotional abuse #ofmd #our flag means death #ed my beloved #ofmd meta #canyon critical

[sophieinwonderland]

hello, i'm currently in the process of creating my first headmate. i've started only a few days ago, and i'm having difficulties figuring out if he's already responding to me or not. i heard it's good to assume any replies are coming from your headmate while they're in the early stages of development, but 90% of the answers i'm getting are just what i would answer to those questions. simple things like "what is your favorite pasta sauce" and "what is your favorite instrument besides guitar." so i'm not sure if the answers are just what my brain automatically replies with or if it's actually my headmate. there's also the issue of the answers sounding really quiet which makes it difficult to know if it's his voice or mine, i'm not even sure if he has his own voice yet (i do know what he's supposed to sound like, i'm just not sure if hes able to use that at this point). do you have any advice?

90% still means 10% are different, right? That's a good start.

And it's not like your headmate has life experiences separate from your own yet.

To me, it sounds like you're on the right track.

Your headmate has never actually tasted pasta sauce, so it seems reasonable they would base a lot of their answers off of what's in your head right now, doesn't it?

Try exposing them to new experiences. If you're building them an inner world, then show them around that space, and bring in new elements to play with. If you're visualizing them externally, then show them your real life or even just interesting things on the net and ask their opinions on those. Maybe see if they want to listen to music and what they want to listen to, then work your way to songs you've never heard before.

Introducing them to new stimuli should be the goal to help them deviate and become more their own people.

#tulpa #tulpamancy #plural #plurality #endogenic #multiplicity #systems #system #tulpagenic #parogenic #willogenic #plural system #endogenic system #pro endo #pro endogenic #pluralgang

[canmom]

the big thing in large language models at the moment seems to be a technique called "chain of thought prompting". this is where you ask the AI to solve a problem and tell it to "think step by step" or something like that.

(as an aside, it is so fucking weird to me that we can suddenly give computers instructions in natural language. not even a constrained subset of natural language like Inform 7, you just write instructions like you would to a human. that's fucked up.)

with this method, the models are able to solve problems that they couldn't otherwise (instead of just cheerfully bullshitting an answer). of course "solve problems" should be clarified, they can produce a sequence of words that a human can recognise as a solution to a problem. this chain of words really is a chain in that if the AI makes a mistake early on, it propagates forwards, and if the mistake is fixed and the chain regenerated, it corrects the 'reasoning'.

what really gets me about this is... that's also how I think. when I try to explain a problem, or write down my process, that helps me get to answers that i couldn't, and think about things more clearly than if I just let it sit in my head. all the long-ass essays I write on this website - this one included - are essentially a means of doing that.

language is a technology. not just for communication, though it is that, but for thinking as well. having something formulated in words (or equations on a page) is a scaffolding to store more information than short term memory can hold, and reformulate it in different ways. writing a draft and editing it. this is why students are prompted to 'show their working' in subjects like maths, it's trying to introduce them to a technique which can be extended.

is something analogous happening for AI language models? a common objection to the idea that AI can 'reason' is that it's just generating the most likely next word according to its corpus. having been fed various examples where humans reason step by step, it generates something that looks similar. the objection to this objection would be to claim, in the process of boiling down the corpus into neural network weights, it has managed to capture something analogous to the structure of 'reasoning' performed by humans. is this actually true?

'generating the most likely next word' could be rephrased as 'generating a "good" sequence of words', based on the training examples. older predictive text models were trained to try to guess what the human would type next, and repeatedly taking the prediction would rapidly become nonsense bc it only keeps track of the last few words. but now they're trying to train much more complex AIs to generate original strings of words that interpolate/extrapolate the patterns in the corpus.

the thing I'm stuck on now is how alike/unalike is that to how humans think?

introspectively, thoughts appear in my head as a sequence of words, the so called 'stream of consciousness'. when i was a kid i would apparently move my mouth while reading as if mouthing the words, but i stopped doing this when someone pointed it out; nevertheless I tend to think 'verbally'. I don't know if everyone does this. but my brain generates sentences, somehow, which come to my conscious mind a word at a time.

so just like 'AI learns just like human artists', you could make the argument that I trained my inner neural network on a corpus - words spoken around me, books (lots of them), etc etc., to learn to generate strings of words that follow the patterns in that corpus, generating attempts at it, and being told whether they were good or bad. there is at least a superficial structural similarity in how that process played out.

i have no memories of how I learned language as a kid (beyond that i was good at spelling lmao), but to try to learn a second language today, two of the most effective tools are spaced repetition systems and immersion. the former involves exposing my brain to repeated queries that test if it's internalised some item or pattern, and then telling it 'right' or 'wrong'. the latter involves piling on as much stimuli as possible until it can start to discern patterns. (of course this isn't the whole story, reading verbal explanations of grammar points or creating mnemonics can help shortcut the process considerably by laying the necessary structure.)

eventually, I might reach a level of fluency where I could 'think in Japanese' - have an inner monologue entirely in Japanese instead of coming up with concepts in English and then mapping them to a Japanese equivalent. the first inklings of that are coming in set phrases like ただいま or (yes, sigh) 仕方がない which come unbidden into my head, acting as loanwords. (i expect the process would come a lot faster if I was in a context where people mostly spoke Japanese.)

that side of learning at least seems pretty similar to the training process used a large language model, right? you display a prompt, generate an answer, and then the brain 'updates' based on whether you're right or wrong.

on the other hand, one of the most effective ways that I have for learning something is to pursue a project that demands that I learn something new. the last few months, I've taught myself C#, Unity's DOTS, shaders etc. to a pretty decent level. this couldn't have happened if I wasn't trying to make a game that led me to constantly have to ask 'how can I do..., what is the best way to...' and experiment. though that gets into the murky question of motivation, desire etc, which isn't a factor at all in these non-agentic AI systems.

but to do this sort of thing I've got certain meta techniques. breaking down a problem into smaller chunks, creating smaller test cases, writing out what I'm trying to do and what the possible approaches are. you can see it in action in all those devlog posts for THRUST//DOLL, which are in effect a slightly cleaned up record of how I go about solving each problem that comes up while programming a game.

this is a sort of 'agentic' form of learning. I have a goal and I look up information (e.g. documentation, blog posts) that will help me achieve it. being able to do this is absolutely vital for humans now - the so-called 'extended cognition'. being good at looking things up might be better that just knowing a lot.

if you ask a GPTx AI to generate a plan, it isn't actually going to attempt to carry it out. but people have already started wiring together components so that the AI generates a string that says 'I will do this' and then another program generates an API call to match and feeds it back into the AI, e.g. looking up a piece of information it needs. I've also seen talk of using AI as a kind of 'glue' that creates effectively a universal natural language API between programs.

right now the AI's 'goal' is just to generate a good response to whatever the prompt is, according to the rewards applied during training (rewards in the sense of, increasing/ decreasing weights to encourage/discourage certain patterns).

but if it can generate a string of text that accurately encodes a chain of reasoning (as discernible by a human) and reliably figures out a way to an appropriate answer to a query posed... that seems to suggest that something closely analogous to 'reasoning' is happening in the computation that it's performing right? (unless it's regurgitating a specific chain of thought to a matching prompt that happened to be in the corpus... but a lot of these seem to be 'few-shot' or 'no-shot' tunings.)

what's wild is that this behaviour can be prompted just by writing 'think step by step'. like it's almost more a feature of human languages that the AI has gained access to. a behaviour that was latent in the trained model but had to be activated with the right prompt.

if programming felt like magic before... then giving commands to a black box AI where it's all based on trial and error discovery of what sentence evokes what behaviour seems even more so.

anyway idk. i have generally been pretty sceptical about AI claims but these last few months have really challenged that feeling, which puts me at variance to my friends whose general attitude is like lol techbros. I don't actually think The Singularity(TM) is upon us, but it is true that AI programs have suddenly blown past a lot of what had been hard limits, and making proclamations about what AI can't do seems like a great way to be laughably wrong. (they just solved hands!). a lot of things that were very difficult, like passing law exams, can suddenly be automated (allegedly). we've already seen Clarkesworld have to shut their doors to the flood of crappy AI generated submissions. I'm sure people will be eagerly trying to find ways to get AIs to act in an 'agentic' way, and close the feedback loop. what seems likely is a flood of janky AIs running wild on the internet at some point pretty soon. they don't have to be good, just cheaper than the human equivalent and sort of functional. whether the tendency to hallucinate will make it so the AIs just kind of implode before long if running in this mode... I guess we'll see. the 'danger' right now generally seems to be less a single AI doing a 'hard takeoff' and more that just about anyone can spin up an AI, and that means all sorts of assumptions of scarcity and bandwidth built into all our infrastructure will get invalidated. more effective spam, less novelty when there's 100 things generated with the same AI for every one from a uniquely 'trained' human.

idk, maybe I'm just buying the hype in a hypeful moment. there's plenty of reasons to be sceptical, 'AI will take over' has been a fantastic grift that's been shilled for decades, the people who are going most wild about this are often the same cunts who bought into obvious-scam NFTs last year, and it's obviously very easy to vaguely say 'this changes everything' and concoct some wild scifi scenario. alongside the genuine advances there will be a whole lot of bullshit, and it's very much in AI companies' interest to make out that their product is scarily powerful and maybe on the verge of becoming God, or at least as socially impactful as the internet.

but this feels like the low end of a logistic curve of capability, and while I'm sure it will taper off sooner or later, I have no idea what the other end looks like, how many 'low hanging fruit' have just come into reach of our ladder, and what the practical use for this tech will be once the hype bubble pops.

personally... i still haven't used an AI chatbot and AI image generators feel distasteful. I just write these long posts, which I'm sure Roko's Basilisk will read back mockingly to my simulated clone while saying 'how could you be such a dweeb' as it dissolves my toes in virtual acid.

#artificial intelligence

[worldweaverofmediocrity]

IQ Reacts Progress

Kazuma and Aqua were shown as Luna’s autopilot brain swapped back on.

“Adventurers each have their own occupations.” Luna said before she pointed to the card. “This is your registration card. It keeps track of how many monsters you’ve vanquished.”

“So, you don’t have to cut off the ears or other body parts to confirm the kill?” Satoru said, left hand on chin.

“We are not backwards hillbillies!” Darkness said, fists clutched at her side.

“Besides, if all the adventurers are looking for is cut off ears.” Aqua said with a shrug. “Then the natural thing to do is to make a monster breeding farm, cut off the associated body part, sell the part, and then use the money to expand your breeding facilities. Which will eventually get exposed and release far more monsters than originally was.”

Albedo closed her eyes and mentally groaned at such an easy answer to raise money, which she and Demiurge completely missed. Then not one of Lord Satoru’s operatives would lack for money in the human world. Demiurge resisted the urge to slap himself upside the head with his tail as he came to the same conclusion.

“Okay, I get why Albedo and Demiurge didn’t think of that because they have to run Nazarick and deduce Lord Satoru’s plots to take over the world respectively.” Aura thought, head in her hands with Mare gently rubbing her head. “But I am the Beastmaster, so I should have thought of that myself! Hey, for that matter, why don’t we see if Mare could grow one of the rare (for the New World) plants and harvest those to give to Lord Satoru’s Momon Persona. Which would increase his fame because he can now accurately identify AND harvest rare plant materials.”

I could have the Lizardmen see if they have any other rare resources suitable for trade to human settlements. Cocytus thought. Then have Lord Satoru as Momon formally meet them and bring trade. Increasing his fame not only as a Human Hero, but as a Hero of many races.

Satoru placed a hand on his forehead. “Oh, I am such a dumbass for not thinking of that. It would certainly give Aura and Mare something to do so that they aren’t bored.”

Aqua gave half-lidded glares to the Nazarick crew. “[Geniuses], Suuuuure.”

“As your level increases, you’ll earn points that you can use to learn skills, so please work hard to raise your level.” Luna said as she folded her hands in front of her waist.

A blue crystal orb was shown, yellow and light gray metal formed a clockwork machination around the orb. Below the orb were three cyan laser focusing discs. The Card Maker was held up by two dark gray claws.

“Now, both of you, please hold your hands over this crystal.” Luna asked.

The camera swapped to show Kazuma reaching to the crystal. Aqua was interested in the clockwork of the Card Maker.

“Like this?” the boy asked.

With a click and the sound of a film reel rolling, the crystal lit up with an inner like as the clockwork spun. Which prompted an amazed [ha] to spill from Kazuma’s lips. Cyan bubbles gathered in the crystal before they descended to the focusing lens. The clockwork clicked and swirled as a violin played over the fantastically rendered CGI. the focusing lens, more like small bowls as the camera zoomed in and provided clarity, wobbled as the cyan bubbles passed through them to reach the needle at the bottom.

With a soft electronic whistle, the needle tip glowed and shot the concentrated bubbles down at the card. Etching into it the details of Kazuma.

“With this, you will each learn your current status,” Luna said as the laser wrote down Kazuma’s name. “So please choose your desired occupation based on your stats.”

The laser-pen was shown from below, looking like a saucer-type final boss. The laser passed over the camera twice before we returned to Kazuma’s very invested face.

“Here it comes!” Kazuma leaned closer. “Now my tremendous latent abilities will be made apparent, and there’ll be an uproar throughout the guild!”

“I mean…” Kazuma scratched his left cheek. “I guess I did receive it, with that sheer delay of leveling up.”

“You also did get it because of Aqua.” Megumin and Darkness said.

#writing #my writing #progress report #IQ reacts #isekai quartet #konosuba #funny #overlord

[sybariticthrall]

A little writing.

I wanted to write something kinky and post it somewhere. I used to write all the time, but I haven't in quite a while. When I started I found it was hard to write without subconsciously trying to turn it into a series of tweets so really this was just an exercise to try to get my brain thinking in prose again.

------ A moment

It was something in passing, I think. A glint in her eye, a head nod, an upturned chin, maybe the faintest curving of the lips into the barest smile. Or maybe I just I imagined it all, she saw something in my face, an eagerness and responded.

It shouldn't matter, really, what started the moment, and I guess it doesn't. I guess it only matters to me. I want it to have been a glint in her eye, but it doesn't matter.

She was leaning against the kitchen table saying something about her day or the evening she had planned halted abruptly mid-sentence. Her head cocked to one side and whatever glimmer I'd noticed shifted into a Cheshire grin, a mouse would have trembled. I trembled.

Her lips parted and let out an exhale of whatever air had been intended to finish that sentence in a single languid breath.

I leaned in intending to kiss her but she leaned back. She had just gotten dressed, put her makeup on and I should have known better. Her eyes gave me a stern look but it softened slightly as she tilted her head exposing her neck. She pointed to just above her collar bone.

I kissed where I was directed. I had to lean forward as to not smash into her and wrinkle her clothes, I felt like a precarious drinking bird. I was shaking.

She laughed, a pleased little scoff. It is strange how even a derisive laugh can be approving, approving of me or my emotional state, or just the situation. I'll never know. I kissed again.

Carefully, I slid my head down and delivered a single kiss to her chest as she settled her weight into the table and widened her legs.

Foreplay was over.

I dropped to the ground a little too eagerly and the hardwood stung my knees but she didn't notice or care. She lifted her dress and I ducked my head underneath. The light changed to an eerie red as the fabric draped over my head.

And then… and then it was over. All too soon her legs were shaking and her breath was halting and gasping. I had been diligent, dedicated, guided by her sighs, moans and subtle shifts of her position. I had also tried to will myself to be present for each second, to remain in them, to stretch them out to eternity but I became lost in the moment time had escaped me again, had it been five minutes? Fifteen? An hour? It was over, I felt like I was falling, I almost cried.

I wrapped my arms around her legs and massaged gently, half to extend her contented pleasure and half as desperate plea to hold on a little longer. For a time it worked, her breathing sighed and slowed and she just relaxed in the moment. When I felt her legs stiffen I stopped rubbing and rested my head against her inner thigh, tears transferring from my cheek to her leg.

I tried to take long deep breaths but I couldn't steady them; they were quick and shallow. For a while I think she just listened to me breathe, softly caressing my head through her dress.

Then, wordlessly she shifted her weight away from the table and pulled the dress back up providing me an exit. As much as I wanted to hold on I pulled myself back away.

I could feel her eyes staring down on me like the sun and her words fell on me like the rain. Words that would have been envious if her tone contained even a trace of envy.

“How wonderful it must be for you… to have such clarity of purpose, your needs so aligned, your energies so… focused.” I didn't look up. "Many might long for an existence so, singular."

She reached down and with a finger under my chin lifted my head. She fixed me in her gaze and brushed away a tear with her thumb. "You have a lot to do for me tonight, you should get started."

I nodded.

"Hey," she said, "if you finish everything before I get home, bring some candles into my room and you can rub me and maybe we can cuddle for a while. If its not too late."

I imagined her back pressed into my chest, my arms wrapped hers, her hair in my face. The ache in my center pulling me like gravity. I nodded again and started to reply but she'd already gone. My knees ached against the floor, but the pain kept me tethered in the rapidly fading moment so I lingered there. I glanced around the room, but found only absence.

[dirtywresling102]

Heels Get The Most Recognition - Chris Jericho (18+)

Chris Jericho x Simon

Commission For: @thesimonkshow

Summary: Simon tries to get Jericho's attention so he can be placed in the Inner Circle. Lucky for Simon, Jericho has a soft spot for rookies.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, Yaoi, Smut, Cussing, NSFW.

Word Count: 5,721 

Follow Me On My Main Blog!: @dirtywrestling

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Enjoy!

The chair screeched against the floor as I pulled it out from underneath the table. I placed the plate down a large pile of food stacked upon each other. Sitting down, I licked my lips as I looked over the mountain of food, not knowing what to eat first. Scooping a spoonful of potato salad I stopped as I heard a bunch of girls giggling down the table. 

Placing the spoon in my mouth, I slowly chewed as I watched the women giggle and laugh at whatever was on Britt’s phone. “God if he was my boyfriend I’d break up with him for posting these.” Penelope Ford laughed. 

Britt looked up from her phone, we both made eye contact. Swallowing my food, I looked away down at my plate. “Hey Simon, come here. Check this out.” 

“Oh, no I’m good.” I waved them off, not really caring who they were laughing about. I just wanted to try and finish this large lunch so I could burn it off later at the gym. Hearing the girls whisper and agree upon whatever they were talking about, they all scooted their chairs back making a loud screeching sound as they all made their way towards me. Great. I had few friends in this business. I did my work and left, nothing more, nothing less. I especially didn’t want to make friends with the females since they liked to make fun of people online. Like what they’re doing now. 

“Look what Jericho posted.” Britt brought up the Instagram post and showed me. “I can’t believe he thinks he’s still young.” Britt laughed. 

“Hmm.” I hummed, not agreeing or disagreeing with her. I scooped another spoonful of potato salad in my mouth, my eyes skimmed over the photo. Jericho held the camera with one hand and was flexing with a sweater over his body so the only thing we saw was his abs. His face smoldered with the pose. My eyes widened at the exposed photo, nearly spitting out my food, I swallowed. Coughing as it went down the wrong pipe.

The girls laughed at my reaction, thinking it was a negative response. It wasn’t. Jericho looked so good with those sweatpants hung so low. “Wait, let me see again.” I slightly coughed, hitting my chest as I tried to clear my throat. Britt showed me her phone again as my eyes skimmed over the sexy photo. ‘I wish the sweatpants was gone’ I said in my head. 

“Oh and get this one.” Britt swiped her finger to the next photo. My eyes widened at the sight. My wish was granted. I nearly snatched the phone from her hand to get a better look. Jericho’s free hand was slightly pushing down his pants, showing his v-line and nothing more even though fans and myself wanted to see a little more. He was shirtless, flexing his muscles and abs for the camera. I licked my lips at the sight. Jericho’s long blonde hair flowed over his shoulder. My cock stirred at the sexy poses he did for Instagram. 

This should be illegal for a man this fine to post something so erotic. “Why-” I cleared my throat. “Why did he post this?” I asked, looking up at Britt. 

She pulled back her phone, scrolling through it some more. “He posted it on Instagram for his fiftieth birthday.” 

Jericho aged like fine wine, he looked good for his age and I bet tasted even better. My cock strained against my jeans at the thought of getting a taste of Jericho. I quickly stood up, scaring the women around me from my quick action. “Sorry ladies. But uh.” My brain isn't thinking correctly. “I forgot there's something I need to do…” Walking out of the catering room, leaving the plate full of, I rushed to the nearest restroom. Going to the farthest stall, I pushed open the door and locked it. My cock has never been this hard before. Pulling my phone out I quickly went to Instagram and went to Jericho’s page. Scrolling down a few photos I stopped on his fiftieth birthday post. Tugging my pants down along with my boxers, I wrapped my fist around my cock. Examining the photos while I stroked my cock, I slowly slipped into a daydream.

“Such a good boy, taking my cock so well.” Jericho gave my ass a rough slap while his cock was buried deep. Whimpers left my lips as I was enjoying the pain and pleasure. A tight ring wrapped around my cock prevented me from coming. Jericho’s hand ran through my hair, giving it a rough tug, pulling my head back. 

“Ah!” Hissing from the slight pain Jericho caused.

“Hmm, I have so much more stored for you rookie.” Jericho whispered against my ear.

My climax was close, my eyes fluttered shut as I kept fisting my cock. A stifled moan escaped my lips but was quickly cut off hearing the bathroom door slam open. The loud commotion nearly made me drop my phone. Gripping my phone tightly in my hand so it wouldn’t shatter on the tile floor, my heart raced as I listened to the men that entered. 

“I can’t believe Sammy’s dumb ass did that.” Jericho growled, hands coming down on the porcelain sink, the sound echoing throughout the bathroom.

“Yeah, it was pretty stupid of him saying those jokes.” Jake responded.

I swallowed thickly knowing exactly what they were talking about. A few years ago Sammy made a joke about raping WWE wrestler Sasha Banks. Unfortunately for Sammy, that video came back to the surface and of course AEW gave him a punishment on a suspension with no pay for a few months.

“We need a fifth member.” Jericho huffed.

“Really? Sammy is only gone for a few months, I think we’ll be okay without him.” Santana spoke. “I think us four will be fine without him.” 

Jericho slammed his fist down onto the sink, making it creak loudly. I flinched in the stall, nearly slipping. My cock still in my hand, too scared to even move. I didn’t dare make a sound.

“We’re going to look weak with one member missing, is that what you want Santana?” Jericho snarled. “We need someone strong, fast-” 

“And good looking.” Ortiz butted in. The three other men stared at him. “I mean, Sammy was the god looking one, we need someone young and fierce. Just saying.” Ortiz shied away. 

“No, no you’re right. We need a young strong kid to join us.” Jericho agreed. “But who the hell will join us four?” Jericho wasn’t going to say that they were old, he was the oldest out of the group but what damn kid would hang out with them and show off their strength and run AEW Wednesday nights? “We’ll worry about it later, let's go, we have a show to put on.” Jericho huffed and exited out first.

Hearing their feet patter out of the bathroom one by one and the door shut I exhaled slowly. Staying still just in case one of the members was still in here. I quickly started to pull my pants up, shoving my phone in my back pocket. I made my way out of the stall and to the sink. Catching how the sink was slightly crooked from Jericho’s fist colliding with it. 

I quickly washed my hands, looking at myself in the mirror. I knew I had what it takes to be a part of The Inner Circle. Drying off my hands, I threw the towel away in the bin and exited out of the rest room. How in the hell was I supposed to show Jericho and the boys that I was worthy enough to join?

Looking down the hall I saw a group of women. I could show them how much of a ‘ladies man’ I am. I shook my head, I couldn’t see myself messing with women’s emotions if I didn't find them attractive. Plus most of the women backstage I was good friends with. Trying to get into The Inner Circle will also show the men around how manly and tough I was. They wouldn’t dare attack or insult me if I was walking around with The Inner Circle. 

Looking down at the other side of the hallway I saw Joey Janela about to start an interview with Dasha Gonzalez. I smirked, this would be a perfect way to show Jericho and the boys how bad I was. 

“Good evening All Elite Wrestling Fans, I’m here with The Bad Boy Joey Janela who is about to face Jungle Boy later tonight. How are you feeling about this match, Joey?” She pulled the mic away from her lips and held it to Joey. 

“Well, I-”

“Well look who it is.” I stepped into the camera view. Joey and Dasha exchange confused looks to each other. “Fat Boy Jelly Nutella” I laughed, quickly noticing how Joey’s plush face became red with anger. 

“We’re in the middle of an interview here, Simon.” Joey hissed.

“Yeah? Well I caught you in the middle of a donut not so long ago.” I laughed. “How about you take a seat before you lose your breath, alright?” I turned to Dasha. “Dasha, baby.” I gave her a bright smile. “Why are you interviewing losers? When you can have a handsome stud like myself that you could be interviewing?” I gave her a wink. Showing that I can be a bully and yet a cocky gentleman towards the ladies. “I know how young you like them.” I teased, licking my lips. 

“Hey man.” Joey gave me a hard shove from behind. “How about you take your corny comments and leave.” He snarled. 

I straightened up, tilting my head to the side, popping my neck. I turned around to face Joey. “You’re gonna regret that.” I sneered, showing teeth. I raised my fist, clocking him in the jaw. Joey stumbled backwards into some stage crates. I followed after him, striking repeatedly, one blow after another. 

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Simon that’s enough!” Refs and other wrestlers rushed over, pulling me off of Joey. “That’s enough, Simon!” Someone else shouted. 

“Have fun wrestling tonight, Jelly Nutella.” I laughed, letting the people push me away so they could check on Joey. My gaze went across the hall to see Jericho and The Inner Circle. Good they saw everything. It’s just a matter of seconds that they’ll walk over to talk to me about joining the team. 

A small frown appeared on my lips as I watched the four of them walk away in the opposite direction. Huffing out a sigh, I ran my fingers through my sweaty hair. “Simon, what the fuck was that all about?” Joey asked, rubbing his jaw.

“Sorry.” I mumbled. “I’m trying to get tight with The Inner Circle.” 

“Well, next time tell me the plan before punching me.” Joey moved his jaw around. 

The night went on, I waited for Jericho or anyone in the Inner Circle to approach me. No one did. Huffing I knew I wouldn’t stop getting their attention.

A week went by and it was Wednesday All Elite Wrestling once more. I knew I needed to do something crazier than beating up Joey Janela during an interview. I needed to pick the baddest, meanest wrestler on AEW and beat them down, that’ll show Jericho and the boys how strong I really am. 

“Kenny, you know damn well I deserve a shot at that title. That’s my title, you and everybody else knows it.” Moxley snarled into the mic. Standing in the middle of the ring, the crowd cheered as Moxley was getting heated up about Kenny being the asshole champion he was. “So what do you say, Omega? Are you going to come out here and face me like a man or do I have to go back there and hunt you down?” 

Moxley and the crowd waited. I swallowed thickly, knowing this was probably going to get me killed but anything to get Jericho to notice me. My theme song hit, I walked out and onto the ramp. Seeing Moxley’s confusion slowly turn to anger. “Woah, woah, woah. Moxley, you really think you deserve a title shot?” I smirked, my heart was hammering in my chest. Jon Moxley was going to kill me for interrupting his television time. 

“Jon, how about we have a little match? I win. I get to have a title shot with Kenny and a date with your hot wife.” I teased, winking into the camera. “Hi Renee.” I waved. I saw Jon walking towards the ropes, about to hope out and beat me. “Woah, wait big fella. I’ll be in the ring soon. If you win you get to have Kenny for the title, deal?”

I saw Jon’s lip twitch into a devilish smirk. “Deal.” 

I limped out of the trainers room, ice pack in hand. Jon Moxley didn’t take lightly that I joked about his wife or took his spotlight time. Moxley didn’t go easy on me in the ring. Purposely giving me a black eye, bruised ribs and I swore he tore a muscle in my shoulder. Losing to Moxley wasn’t going to have the Inner Circle be interested in me now. 

It was a quick match, lasting no longer than ten minutes. Note to self, don’t piss off Jon Moxley before a match. I grunted as I rested against a crate, sitting on top of the surface I grunted out lowly as my body ached. Resting the ice back over my shoulder I groaned as it stung. “I’ll never get to be in the circle.” I grumbled to myself in defeat. 

Ignoring everyone I didn’t even notice some crew members were starting to set up lights and cameras near me. Looking up, I winced as my neck ached. “What are you guys doing? I want to be alone.” I huffed, annoyed that they were carrying wires and turning on bright lights facing me. I squinted with a low growl as it blinded me. 

“We’re doing a segment right now.” One coworker said, headset wrapped around his neck.

“Can’t you do it somewhere else?” I wasn’t planning on moving.

“Well, we need you Simon for the segment we’re only setting up where you’re staying. Would you like us to follow you to a better place?” The man tilted his head.

I blinked. “Segment? I don’t have a segment.” 

“Oh, Mr. Jericho told us to grab the lights and cameras for your segment with him. He told us to tell you ‘just sit there and look pretty’.” He repeated Jericho’s words. 

I blinked once more, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was I finally joining The Inner Circle? “And we’re live in three… two…” the camera man held up one digit signaling that we’re on the air. 

I swallowed hard, quickly looking away from the camera and down at the floor. “There he is! There’s the strong man that fought Jon Moxley!” Jericho yelled, him and the rest of the crew approaching me. “Or should I say a moron man.” Jericho laughed.

I gulped, my smile slowly turning into a frown. My heart raced, my eyes darted towards the director and back at Jericho. “Well, someone had to show Moxley some sort of punishment.” I cockily said, but of course not accepting that I lost. 

“Ha! See, I told you this kid has it. Even getting his ass kicked he still thinks he’s number one! Kid has spunk!” Jericho complemented. 

I tried to control my reddening cheeks. Never have I gotten a compliment from the goat himself, Chris Jericho. “Well someone has to be number one around here.” I smirked. 

“I like you kid, how about you team up with us, The Inner Circle. What do you say, wanna hang out with the coolest, baddest dudes in AEW?” Jericho asked. His blue eyes looked deep into my eyes. 

“Chris, I would love nothing more than to join you.” 

“You made the right choice kid, I knew I liked you for a reason!” His large hand came down onto my back. I muffled out a small grunt as pain shot up my spine. “Hagar! Give the kid his shirt.” 

Jake pulled an Inner Circle shirt from his pocket and tossed it to me. “You’re one of us kid, better start getting used to being top dog.” With that Jericho and the gang walked away. I couldn’t help but to smile large, looking down at the fabric in my hands. The camera slowly looked away from me and to my Inner Circle shirt. 

“Cut.” The coworker said. “Great job Simon, congrats on being a part of the team.” 

I couldn’t speak, too excited from what just happened. I smiled big and nodded towards him. 

Weeks go by, I couldn’t imagine anything better. Finally being one of the boys in The Inner Circle, I walked tall when I was with the rest of the guys. We’d make a mess backstage, antagonize people and make fun of them during a match. But I knew I was changing while I was with the group. I saw myself become something I wasn’t. A bully. These people here at AEW were my friends, my family. Some wrestlers even went the extra mile to get me a match some Wednesday nights and here I was, treating them like dirt. 

Once the night came to an end, we all made our way back to the hotel. “Hey, we’re going to drink, do you want to come?” Jake asked, mentioning himself, Ortiz and Santana. 

Shaking my head, I politely decline. “No, I’m going to my room and sleep, tonight was pretty long.” 

Jake shrugged and walked to the hotel bar. I held the strap to my bag tightly seeing Jericho walking to the elevator. “Hey, Chris. Wait up!” I rushed to the elevator. Jericho quickly placed his hand between the sliding doors, forcing them open.

“Well, isn’t it my favorite troublemaker in the group?” Jericho teased, a smirk on his lips. 

A light blush appeared on my cheeks as I entered the lift. “Thanks, speaking of the group, I need to talk to you about it.” I gulped.

“Oh yeah? What’s up?” Chris arched his eyebrow, his blue orbs looking into mine. 

“I uh, well.” Having trouble speaking, I stopped when there was a ding, notifying us that we were on our floor. 

Jericho couldn’t help but to laugh at me tripping over my words. “Come on kid, I’ll take you to my room. We’ll talk it out.” Jericho grabbed his luggage and walked out of the lift. Exhaling a breath, I followed suit, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” Jericho asked.

My eyes were everywhere in the room. It was the suite room, large bed, balcony to look over the city and the bathroom was twice the size of mine a few floors down. Jericho went to the mini bar designed for his room. A flatscreen television pinned to the wall and besides the dresser was a mini fridge I could only imagine was full of snacks and alcohol. 

Jericho walked back towards me, handing me a cup of alcohol. “Oh no.” I waved my hand, not going to accept it.

“Come on kid, you’re of age aren’t you?”

I nodded my head yes.

“Then drink.” Jericho smiled, pushing the glass more into my grip. Taking the clear crystal glass I examined the brown liquid. It smelled strong, burning my nose but made my mouth water. “Come, sit.” Jericho sat at the foot of his bed. 

Following, I sat down next to him. Bringing the cup to my lips, I took a small sip of the liquor. Coughing slightly as the bitterness went down my throat. Jericho laughed at my reaction. “This’ll put hair on your balls.” He joked, placing the rim of the glass to his lips. He downed the whole drink in one gulp. 

I exhaled. “I wanted to talk about being in The Inner Circle.” 

“Yes! You were the best choice I’ve made, you have a potential kid, really caught my eye.” I could have sworn I saw his eyes sparkle as he spoke. 

“Uh, thanks Chris.” I swallowed, really wanting to get out what I wanted to say. “But I don’t think-”

“You know, don’t tell anyone but I have a soft spot for rookies.” Chris hummed. 

“You- You do?” I questioned.

“Hmm- hmm.” He nodded. You really caught my eye when I saw you try out, I knew I had to have you.” Chris paused for a brief moment, making my heart skip a beat as he darted his tongue out, licking his lips ever so slightly. “In the Inner Circle of course.”

I cleared my throat. “Oh, of course.” I quickly agreed. Was he flirting with me and quickly covering it up?

 “Why do you think I let Sammy join right when he joined AEW, he was a sweet kid trying to find his place in the business and I took him under my wing just like how I’m doing with you.”

“Well, thank you for that.” I chewed the inside of my cheek. “How can I ever repay you?” I asked, I knew I needed to give the vet something in return for the kind actions he’s had towards me.

Chris’ blue eyes became darker as he looked at me over. “I can think of a few things.” 

“And what’s the number one thing?” I leaned closer to him, licking my lips. 

“I think I’d like to have those nice plump lips of yours wrapped around my cock.” 

My lips twisted into a smirk. “I think I can do that.” Standing up, I got in between Jericho’s legs and kneel down. I rub his already growing cock through his pants. Pre come already staining his jeans. My mouth watered at the sight, undoing the button. I quickly tugged his pants down as if he was a meal and I haven’t eaten in days.

“Easy, I’m not going anywhere.” Chris laughed, seeing how eager I was to have him in my mouth.

Blushing, I slowed down my pace. Tugging the zipper down and helping him out of his pants along with his boxers. His cock was what I imagined, large, long and ready to pound. I looked up at him as he watched in. He reached at me, running his fingers through my hair. My eyes fluttered shut at the soft touches. I grunted as he gave my locks a tough tug, making my cock twitch at the roughness. 

“No teasing, make me come and I’ll reward you with my cock and much more.” Chris let go of my hair, making me nod. 

I looked over his cock once more, admiring it. He was clean shaved. I wrapped my hand around his member, watching Chris suck in a breath only to exhale slowly as I moved my hand up and down on him. “Hmm, that’s it.” Chris tilted his head back, eyes shut. Leaning down, I gave soft kitten licks to his smooth balls. Swirling my tongue slowly and gently. 

“Fuck, keep going.” Jericho moaned, his hips jerking slightly. My free hand rubbing the inside of Chris’ thigh. Once I paid enough attention to his balls, I stopped jerking his cock. Jericho snapped his head up, watching my every move. 

Grabbing the base of his cock, I slowly inserted the tip of his cock into my mouth, softly suckling it. “Oh god, Simon.” Jericho grunted through his teeth, pushing his hips upwards. 

I smirked, using both my hands to pin his hips down on the bed. “Oh you little shit, you think you can control me.” Jericho growled. Chris gripped my hair, pulling me off of his cock. My lips swollen and red from sucking. 

“Should’ve let me fucked that sweet mouth of yours, now I have to teach you a lesson.” Jericho stood up as I stayed on my knees. “Little rookie thinks he can control me.” Swallowing hard as I heard Jericho mumbled to himself. He went to his duffle bag, I heard him unzip it only to zip it back up. 

A soft yelp escaped my lips as Chris unexpectedly gripped both of my wrists, putting my hands behind my back. Cool metal clasped over both of my wrists, restraining me. I tugged, trying to get out only to realize he placed hand cuffs on me. “W- Wait, I’m sorry. I only wanted to touch you.”

“Oh you little liar. You were trying to take control so I couldn’t fuck that pretty mouth of yours.” Chris growled, being in front of me once more. His hard cock in my face. 

“I’m sorry.” I said once more, wanting to be forgiven. 

Jericho gripped my hair once more. “Open.” 

Biting the inside of my cheek I soon opened my mouth. Nearly gagging as Chris shoved his cock down my throat. Saliva soon collected in my mouth as I grunted. I latched my jaw tight, wrapping my lips around his cock as he thrust faster. “Good boy.” 

My wrists slowly started to hurt as the metal cut deeper into my skin. Drool started to drip out the corner of my mouth, my eyes started to water as I could hardly breathe. Chris tightened his grip on my hair as his thrust became longer and harder. His cock thickened in my mouth, I knew he was about to come soon.

His hand rested on the back of my head, forcing his cock deeper down my throat, I tried to pull away and catch a breath of air. “Ah, ah.” Chris grunted, his cock not moving. He pumped his hips a few times, his come flooding down my throat as my face became red. I jerked at the cuffs, trying to break them so I could push Chris off. 

“Hmm, now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He slowly started to pull his cock out. Come and drool collected at my lips as his cock exited out of my mouth. I gasped for air. “Ah.” Chris, clamped my mouth shut. “Swallow it.” 

I didn’t even realize I had so much come in the back of my throat until I swallowed it all, making me finally breathe. He gave me a lazy smirk, watching me become teary eyed. “I’m not finished with you just yet.” Jericho gripped my arm and stood me up. He shoved me to the foot of the bed, bending me over. 

Jericho’s large hand roughly slapped my ass, once, twice and a third time. I whimpered as my skin stung from the pain, slowly turning red. “Can’t wait to be deep inside of you, rookie.” I heard a bottle open and liquid pouring out. Soft sloshing sounds were made from behind me, Jericho stroking his cock with his lubed up hand. 

“You did so well taking my cock in that pretty little mouth, now let's see how you take my thick cock up your ass.” I could hear Jericho smirk in his words. I tugged at the restrains, trying to get loose but they were too tight. I moved my head to the side, breathing as my face was pushed up against the soft covers of the bed. 

My heart beat quickly against my chest as I felt Chris’ smooth hand rub against my back. “Relax.” He purred. Chris’ kept stroking his cock, his hand on my back went to my ass to spread my cheeks. His tip pushed against my entrance making me bite my bottom lip. 

“Shit, you’re squeezing my cock so perfectly.” Chris moaned as he slowly pushed his dick inch by inch. 

Tears threaten to spill from the corner of my eyes as Chris’ cock stretches me wider than I’ve ever been stretched. “Shh, there we go. Good boy, you’re doing so well. Almost there.” Once fully in, Chris paused for a moment so I could adjust to his size. “Fuck you look so good stuffed full of my fucking cock.” Chris landed another rough smack to my ass which made me yelp loudly. “Fuck, so sexy.” He moaned. 

Exhaling softly, I rolled my hips against his, wanting more. “Oh, someone is being greedy.” 

“Please, your cock feels so good in me.” I whined, being full with Chris’ cock in my ass and my dick rubbing up against the soft fabric of the covers was nearly making me want to come. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Chris snickered, gripping the chain in between the cuffs that were digging into my skin, I hissed loudly as he pulled my arms back. He pulled his cock out and thrust back into me, he started to do it repeatedly. His pace started to pick up, sloppy wet sounds and skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the hotel room.

“Fuck!” I roared out, arching my back and meeting up with Chris’ thrust. I pushed my ass back, matching with his pace, his cock drilling deeper into me.

“Oh little rookie likes it when I pound his ass?” Chris smirked. I couldn’t help but to moan. A few harsh strikes landed on my ass. “I asked you a question, use your words.” He growled.

“Yes! Yes I fucking love when your cock is so deep in me.” I desperately said. My cock throbbed for attention, my balls full of come. “Please, touch me, please let me come.” I panted. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as I worked on Chris’ cock. 

“You want me to touch your hard aching cock?” Jericho’s voice was nearly mocking.

I wanted to cry as Jericho was teasing me with his words. “Yes, yes please!” 

Surprising that was all it took, Jericho reached his arm around my waist and gripped my cock with his soft hand. Tugging my cock synced to his hips pushing into me. “Oh fuck yes, thank you.” I moaned, jerking my hips into his touch.

 “Are you ready for me to fill you up?” Jericho moaned into my ear. 

Nodding my head, “Please, I need it.” I moaned. 

“Then you shall have it.” He hissed as I squeezed tighter around his cock.

Jericho’s thrust started to pick up along with his hand on my cock, not missing a beat. My body vibrated with his magical touch. My eyes fluttered shut as my mouth slightly dropped open. “Oh fuck, please I’m going to come.” 

Jericho squeezed the base of my cock, teasing me away from my orgasm. “You’re mine isn’t that right, rookie?” 

Gulping, I didn’t say anything, only nodded. That wasn’t good enough for him. “Say you belong to me or else I won’t let you come.” He threatened, the hand that gripped the chain in between the cuffs slapped my other ass cheek.

“I’m yours! I’ll always belong to you!” I cried out, nearly screaming.

“And don’t you fucking forget it.” He grunted. “You may come.” He kept jerking my cock. Arching my back, moaning loudly. Buckling my hips into his touch I bit my lip. My cock twitched in his touch. 

“Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming.” I moaned. My hot come spurted out of my cock, hitting the clean hotel covers and Jericho’s hand. Jericho let go of my lip cock, gripping my waist as he started to pound faster into me. Jericho pumped his cock a few more times in me, his come soon exploding inside of me. “Fuck, yes take my come.” Jericho moaned. 

I balled my hands into fist, becoming limp on the bed. Breathing heavily as I laid there. “Fuck, Simon.” Chris sighed out, pulling his dick out of my ass slowly. He watched as his seeds spilled out of my fucked hole. “Hmm.” Jericho admired the sight for a few seconds. Hearing him walk away and come back I heard a click and another click. The cuffs falling off of my wrists, I instantly brought them up to my chest and rubbed them. 

“You took my cock so well.” Jericho laid down on the bed, pulling me close to him.

“Thank you.” I blushed, hiding my face in his neck. We both laid there, naked and slowly fell asleep.

A few hours later I woke up. Getting out of bed, I walked towards the sliding mirror, glad that we were a few stories up so no one could see me looking over the city, naked. The sun barely hits the horizon, the sky still dark, stars sparkling and the city still lit up with lights. 

“You’re up early.” Jericho hummed, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I jumped slightly, startled by his touch. “I couldn’t sleep.”

I felt Chris’ frown press against my lips. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

“I… I actually came to you last night to talk to you about the Inner Circle. I didn’t plan on getting fucked.”

“Oh, I planned on fucking you.” Jericho chuckled.

“I’m being serious.” I laughed.

“I am too. What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

“I don’t think I belong in the group. I’m becoming a bully to my old friends and that’s just not me.”

“So you want out?” He asked, his chin resting on top of my head.

I didn’t say anything, I watched the traffic down below us. I also felt Jericho’s bare cock against my ass.

“Listen, you’re a sweet kid. The only illegal thing you’ve done was jerk it in a public bathroom.” 

“You heard me?” I squeaked.

“Heard you moaning right when I entered. You’re lucky I entered first. I also recognized your shoes.” Chris nuzzled against me. “But I agree, you’re not a bully type, but that doesn't mean I want you out of the group. Sammy is coming back and he’s more of the snobby kid of the group. How about you can be the sweetheart of the group? We can do backstage segments where you try to show me and The Circle how to be kind. I think people would find that hilarious and see us fail at being kind and nice to people.” 

I chuckled at the thought. “I suppose that can work.”

“Sounds good to me, now let's get back to bed.” Jericho kissed my neck, nibbling slightly.

#chris jericho smut #chris jericho imagine #aew smut #wrestling smut #chris jericho fanfic #aew fanfic #chris jericho masterlist #chris jericho one shot #aew one shot #all elite wrestling #aew rampage #aew #aew fanfiction #aew one shots

[minorfamilysupremacy]

Top 3 casual Pete outfits

a challenge! in no certain order:

does anything say 'dude in his 20s' more than the oversized button-up over a tee? pair your monochromes with converse for the perfect cute, non-threatening look that does not in any way suggest you would be capable of murdering a man with a toothpick. keep 'em guessing, pete!

off-duty, off the clothing agenda! let the boys breathe while you flex. i'd already dubbed 2022 my personal Year of the Ass for how many booties have popped up on my tv screen but i assumed kinn or porsche would be exposing those cheeks to the elements first. we all should have recognized pete's hidden depths the second the second he opted for an ass-first introduction. a man that open about hole is clearly hiding something else.

jim-jams! this is a man who unintentionally matched his pajamas to his captor's/future husband's while skulking around looking for said future husband's sex dungeon. could anything foreshadow love more effectively? reader, i posit not.

honorable mention:

do boxers and bandages count as casual wear? is pete, while kidnapped, on the clock and incurring massive amounts of overtime, or is he salary-based? at year-end, is he going to calculate out his hours worked and find out that he was paid 18 cents per hour of kidnapping time? the people have a right to know.

anyway, he's malnourished, dehydrated, and has just been through some pretty extreme bouts of torture here, but the inner beauty is shining through. pete, share your beauty secrets.

disqualified for being work wear but too good not to post:

we may have lost the beautiful black filmania suits, but BOC gave us balm in gilead with the black turtleneck diamond auction look and this deceptively simple number. why we could not get more footage of this is beyond me, because pete (who is barely in this fucking frame, TRAGEDY) is looking like a full five-course meal in this. if vegas had ignored his dad's stupid-ass requests to fuck porsche, he could have just absolutely taken pete out behind a sack of coke and fucked his brains out WITHOUT having to go through all that kidnapping shit. come on, pete, you know you had a sexual awakening when the two of you were together and he was just casually executing dudes. you guys could have acted on that tension. it's what you deserved, it's what vegas deserved, and it's what we ALL deserved.

#s2 so we can see pete get some in a drug warehouse please and thank you #pete saengtham #kinnporsche #ask!

[flydotnet]

Mid-Spring's Vague Idea for a Fugue

WHUMPTOBER 2023, DAY 7:“I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.” Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

I really never write Misaki, let alone HSAU Taro. I should, I know, but I just… never get ideas for him, the poor thing. So, like last year, I used a challenge as an opportunity to give him some screentime! Unlike last year, however, it's not a 6K-word masthodonth that took me weeks to write…

I went with the quote prompt again because I'm very unoriginal, very uninspired, and a bit of an overall basic bitch. It's just how I roll.

I have, as always when I write either Yusuke or Taro, been very generous on my dosage of artistic metaphors and imagery. It's not a Yusuke POV if I don't use every single reference I have available to be displayed (ha).

----------------------------------------------

Mid-Spring's Vague Idea for a Fugue

Summary: Yusuke is used to his protégé taking care of him when things go south and covering for him when needs be. Today, he gets to pay him back.

Fandom: Persona 5/Captain Tsubasa (Crossover/Teachers AU)

Word Count: 1.2K words

AO3 version available here.

--------------------------------------------------

Silence can be an overwhelming thing, Yusuke thinks.

Most people would see this as paradoxical. Of course they would: the lack of noise is meant to be soothing on the brain, especially that of the tired and overworked. Silence is seen as a good thing, a necessary reprieve from the world; and who is Yusuke to tell the people they’re wrong? Everyone has a stance on silence and it can change throughout the day, for some.

He isn’t on the side who appreciates complete silence. To focus on his art, he does need a respectable amount of calm; but noise is what makes it truly compelling. The sound of breathing, the wind through the window, the rain hitting the glass in droplets… It all feels like a compelling atmosphere for true art to come out of the brain, when music doesn’t also influence it.

Silence is a constant, in the atelier they call a secondary classroom. Both Taro and he partake in their art in silence, when they don’t have class to make, and it’s what allows them to make the works they expose on the walls of their respective rooms. Yet, it’s different than drawing all on his own: in the background of his mind, there is the scritch of pencils on paper, the low humming Taro sometimes makes when he’s focused and in need of finding the right mood for a piece. It’s both comforting and inspiring all on its own.

Drawing together brings the both of them. It has ever since Yusuke was entrusted with guiding a fellow arts teacher through the trials and tribulations of such a career: they’ve always found a sort of inner and outer peace this way, keeping their conversations to a minimum when both are creating. It’s only after this step is done that conversations may happen once again.

However, as it turns out, silence has become overwhelming, which means the time to discuss and debate, further ideas together has come. As such, he turns over and looks in his protégé’s direction, palette and paintbrush still in hand.

“Tell me, Taro, my dear friend, what do you think of this?” He asks.

Taro doesn’t reply, his head still hunched over a sketchpad. Perhaps he really is just deep in thought. Yusuke better not disturb this trance, as it may lead to splendid creations. More art is always a good thing, beautiful even.

Except… he’s getting to get seriously worried. Taro has been completely silent for too long. He hasn’t move except for the rise and fall of his chest, not even the scratch of a pen or a swing of his slightly asymmetrical bangs.

“Can you hear me?”

Yusuke steps forward, leaning closer to his protégé. His eyes are closed – this is wrong.

“Taro?”

Enough silence is enough, and anxiety is pulsating through his veins, he decides the best way to combat it is to make as much noise as one can. In his case, he resorts to hitting two empty glass jars together in a cacophonic pattern – and it works: Taro wakes up in a jump, a storm of startlement and shock on his face.

“S-sorry!” He yells out, his voice hoarse with sleep.

“My apologies, my esteemed friend, but I needed your opinion on something.” He leaves a blank, just enough for Taro to shake his head and find his footing again. “Also, you looked quite dead. I figured I ought to check if you weren’t. It’d have been very unfortunate if I hadn’t realized you had passed away.”

It’d have been a terrifying, mind-shattering experience. Fortunately, Taro is very much still alive – even if, for lack of a better image, he looks like someone took a vivid red from a watercolour palette and painted ugly blotches of it onto their pristine canvas.

“Are you okay?” Yusuke asks as soon as the metaphor fades.

Taro smiles, even tilts his head forward to nod. It all looks watered down, however.

“I’m fine,” he replies, the rasp in his voice not having gone anywhere since.

“Are you certain? You’ve been spacing out immensely.”

“Oh, it’s just…” Taro stares at the sketchbook that has went flying – the front page of it is blank. “Oh…”

“You weren’t drawing?” Yusuke asks again, tension creeping into his shoulders.

“I guess not…?” His protégé picks the sketchbook back, flaps through the pages, and the few sketches both of them see are from days ago. “Oh no…”

“Maybe we should stop in our tracks.”

“N-no, it’s fine! Don’t worry about me!”

A cough escapes Taro’s lips and, all of a sudden, he looks like a deer caught in a car’s highlights. It only then finally clicks inside Yusuke’s mind.

“Would you happen to be…”

A sentence can only do so much, so he puts his hand on Taro’s forehead and, sure enough, as soon as he does, his skin feels like a bath whose hot water has been running for too long.

“Oh, you’re ill,” he thinks out loud.

He watches Taro tense under his hand, yet never fully exiting its grasp. The moist warmth in his palm hasn’t receded either. Now able to glean in more details, the full extent of the picture is somewhat vertigo-inducing: paper-pale skin, sweat in drops of rain, hair that reflects the light as if coated in polish…

“It’s… it’s fine, I promise.”

Something familiar tugs at his heartstrings with a slightly acidic touch.

“You don’t have to pretend to be in a good shape. If you feel sick, then you feel sick.”

Taro looks up with glassy, wide-open eyes. The contrast is quite the sight to behold. (Oh, that is also quite the pun).

“But…”

Yusuke slowly kneels to his level, soon cupping his face as to make sure he’s heard.

“It’s only fair I care for you, my friend. You’ve helped me so many times and in so many ways before, I can only pay you back in a similar manner. Does anything hurt?”

Unlike what he expected, Taro’s eyes wet with tears.

“I, uh… My head hurts. Not that unexpected, I suppose…”

“Anything else?”

“My throat.”

“Hmm, it sounds like a cold to me. Do you wish to see the doctor just yet?”

“Ah, no, I can’t bother Jun with that, it’s not—”

“You’re not bothering Jun, my friend, you’re merely asking him something that’s part of his missions. In just the same way an artist paints, a doctor takes care of people. You’re of no burden if Jun has decided his life’s mission was to care for the sick.”

His friend’s eyes stare at the ground.

“I… suppose you’re right…”

“It seems like your old mentor still has lessons to teach you, then.”

“Yusuke, you’re only a year older than I am…”

“Experience transcends age, my dear Taro!” The wince that haunts his face for a second makes his heart sink. “My apologies, you did say your head hurt… Can I fetch you medicine for it, at least?”

Taro remains silent for a long moment.

“Actually… I should have some in my bag, along with a water bottle.” He brings his knees against his chest. “I’d rather have you remain here, Yusuke.” He then buries his face between his knees and the rest of his body. “I don’t like being alone when I’m sick.”

Yusuke may’ve barely been able to hear the sentiment, he still relates to it on such a fundamental level that it resonates with his very DNA.

“I understand, dear friend. I’ll just stay here with you until you don’t need me, then.”

He lets Taro nestle himself into his arms.

Silence isn’t always a bad thing, Yusuke decides.

#whumptober 2023 #no.7 #can you hear me? #crossover* #persona 5 #captain tsubasa #fic #au: HSAU of Ever

[the-firebird69]

There's a lot of other stuff going on and we're going to get to it

-there's too many people here giving instructions on how to do things and picky things over and over and they're trying to condescend but it's annoying as hell they're getting fights all the time and say shut your mouth you're an idiot and it's annoying okay and these people are blistering with annoying comments to everybody including each other I don't see any purpose of keeping them here they're blithering idiots and they're dangerous a lot of them are psychotic and so on so I put in an order together with a package I want it done by a certain date

-it also criticizing me and Olympus all the time and I highlighted that and I don't think that we are paying attention to them when we must it's sickening he's a young guy and doesn't know what to do about it he's just sitting there enjoying it because her heinous people in other words we're not doing anything what we're doing now with Trump is working we made that New Vegas for whatever it's going to be a hole after he gets through and we do or a working place, inner son says it and daughter we just replace the stuff and we do understand that it's a fire off shots and get it we will erase them and start over. Several of the projects are working Genesis the automobile place they try to get there every day give a 10 mile buffer zone around it and it's 10 miles wide and simply making the cars and they're not and bring them to the sales floor so they don't understand it but we do you're not making enough cars for anybody not even their own so we started to pound them out and they start getting angry you start going after them to find out why and we should hear it these people are winners okay same thing when Trump was President trying to choke out society to threaten everybody for these ships below still

-he's trying to bother or really torment her son right now it's not doing a great job and he's saying I'm in this apartment and I'm in that apartment and I can be over here and a sunset I'm just going to throw something at you while you're walking around or use Mr a whole stick with gloves on make sure you're playing your pancake brain comes back. No he can't stand that kind of thing but that's what our son is thinking because the guy's a huge f** since you come near the screen you're going to get it in the neck so the knife will go through the screen lickety split and you stupid face over there and the knife will be in your neck okay so the cops come and ask questions you're a wielding something and I hand you one of my knife you fag. That's why I plan to do to you I'm not going to sit there and talk to you little p**** but anyways what we have set up for him is that the plan of bja is after it and others too and they're all hitting trumps people in Charlotte county and at the same time you're not locked up at all people need the houses too badly it's just going to get harder and harder for Trump and is holding too many and his people are in too many announcing he had 60 households started a war here and he and Trump's are losing.

-there's a few more things to say about that but that's probably good he's going to lose this war others are after the housing and it exposed who's renting to them and they started new rental agreements and those people are going to be out because they're told not to so it's actually helping the cost what these trumps are doing

-and we are seeing him cringe with who cares we have to see him out of here and we are starting to see that the law enforcement people are getting sick of him and our son says you're way too late but better late than never. They're agreeing and smiling and saying it's true and it also saying we don't like what's going on here because there might be Giants because this a****** and I heard you hated Giants so I made Giants and their p**** doesn't even go after them and they're laughing thinking it's stupid because it is.

-we're watching these people who are watching and some acts and they're sitting back and chuckling thinking it's funny and her son says one of those giants can crush all your bases on Earth in half an hour down into the bunkers and stepping on it and just one of them you should know it by the size but you don't believe it and it can wipe out entire fleets in space cuz it sticks up out into space you see but we use them for something else right now we have to wipe your fleet on it it's going to be gone chuckle chuckle turtle I mean what a bunch of fat losers you'd be surprised what else you push me into doing. And they're not laughing so we're going to have to hit them too.

-and this guy is incredibly stupid but we have other announcements other than this jackass field that should be empty and the max is sitting back and chortling as a while they figure out that it's the idiot in front

-there's a lot of problems but solutions are coming so the renting people of going to court on Monday it's about half of the 10%. I said they were before but they weren't in stan is one of them going to court. So Stan complains what are you doing but nothing can't you do something it's Mac can be taking over the apartment you're in possibly and our son's saying now it's not those apartments and if you lose those it's because he's forcing it out of you what do you want me to do grow my Army and do your job like these oaths have done and I am doing. And it says no but I thought there's something you can do. At this point I don't think that you're really a good landlord I don't think he'd be any better so what do you think I can do. He got really upset and said it's he's the one suing really not what he's suing for right now. So our son says this is perfect material for scary monster movie that people are possessed and by a creature and turns out to be the frontal lobe of an idiot it is kind of a joke because the creatures do climb into your skull cavity and they take over your brain but in this case it's one of these losers. So there's a huge bunch of things going on we have more to announce

-there is a giant amount of angst and anger around here a lot of it's directed against your son and should not be cuz you think you're going to get out of stuff by doing it and we've been saying you only get into it and we do some things to you now you've got our attention because you said this all night long and about stupid things he's getting it needs to be replaced it was helping you and so we're going after you I'm going to shut you up you're useless and you need to leave permanently you're a bunch of assholes that's all you said too get rid of them their assholes and losers and their math is right it's very weak so working on it today and we're finding things to get rid of you with

-there's a huge number of idiots out here and they're very stupid and they're thinking about launching an attack on the neighborhood so we're going to go cream them and use them as an excuse cuz they heard about it

-couple other things are happening besides the housing situation coming to light on Monday my lawsuit and that's 5% of the remaining housing structures mostly apartments there will be a reckoning with the other 5% several days later but with the people who are doing this torture of our son and Max are playing on doing it because you are holding him as a hostage and forcing things to happen to a degree and people did find out it's psychological it's not really a massively real function we don't do what they're saying we have a parallel of course and it opens the door to that wide. There's a lot of other things happening here but that's a major one

-there's a lot of people around here who are disgruntled and mean and keep saying dumb stuff to our son and this idiot stan is one of them. And he was caught and threatening her son's bike and people went after him and he's losing all the stuff and chips and it's continuous because he's retards what empire ships and he's got a bunch of them I feel like 200 or 300 million left and he has around 20,000 death stars and things like that in space and has several ground bases left. It is more but he's already getting beaten up but yeah put it up here trying to hits him pretty good. Right now the idiots are gearing up to raid him and to take ships all over Earth and they know where they're going where the bases are and so forth we feeling and we think they'll take 150 million and the empire will grab them right away again

-there are 150 million people who want to get into Charlotte county and it's about twice the average and 10 households went to the back side the 20 that went last night the day before our returned intact mostly I wanted two of them are injured badly but they'll be back

-they're about 50 people here who need to go to prison but it's Sunday and they don't do that but they are laying people off, and they're going to go after about 1.3% of the government workers left out of 5% and that's for Charlotte county and about 3% out of the 7% private workers and they're at 1700 for top brass going for 1500 even though they're not working they they really lay it on there

-and we're here in John ramillard and I really need him out of here he's such a faggot

-and we have other things happening here we are prepping for construction 20,000 projects in Charlotte county and we're doing about 2,000 already and a lot of them are public works type things in small tickets for electrical items but not fixing a pole or two it's for repairing substations and for pretty in transformers. And we just also have contracts to do clearing and we're going to clear out areas at a time of debris from storms in the sick of it and we do have some contracts to clear out some of the canals unfortunately not the ones at our son's area. About 500 of the $20,000 are for buildings and small ones mostly let's say 100 are commercial for renovation or replacement or demolition half of them are going to be removed and replaced or are new or renovated 50 are removed and about 300 are houses individual houses and the remaining 100 half of them are apartments to be renovated and on top of the smaller apartments and that would be 20 units or more roughly there's about 30 of those in Charlotte county and yes a lot of at the outskirts but we're taking those areas cuz they're poorly defended and we get why. 10 out of those 50 are a larger units of 100 or more and then the remaining 10 or 200 or more and it's really up to about 350 but that's a lot he says it doesn't have them there's not that many more out here and really there's not. The other half of the remaining 100 are new but include about 70 houses and 20-100 unit apartments and 10- 200 unit apartments. 90% of the stuff is in Charlotte county only because of small here and the other stuff is going to start up here shortly but there are a few apartment projects and they're new out of the new ones they're about a total of 15 scattered throughout and we're serving them today and clearing you can start clearing out junk and do minor tree removal so you just figured trails what we're doing. If you're out there bothering us we take you directly to prison.

-I said is tired hasn't slept correctly for a month and needs better nourishment and I'm putting that in as an order and right now he needs potassium and he had a bunch and says wasn't enough and we're going to war with these people here I'm so sick of these people they are such s***

-there's a few other things happening here and one of them is we're very tired of the attitude extremely tired of you if you want to be little babies you should go somewhere else and this is not the place to be a rambunctious little baby you're not going to get anywhere and we're going to take care of you we're doing it for real and many of you deserve punishment beginning punished today we're pulling you out of your houses

-I'm very sick of people making me look bad a little bit I'm going to go after them and we're going to start shortly

-there are a few other things happening here one of them is they're being mean on purpose and we can actually mimic that behavior to a humongous level because we hate you very badly we can be extremely mean to you losers. Several of our son's programs have started and you might be pleased to know the casino is one of his ideas and it wasn't originally to take you apart with it was to set you in position and you wanted to do it and you never did you felt you would be too overt and you would not telling people what you're doing instead of something like a casino complex and the Genesis automobile company and Chrysler factories and globally and we are now moving on Hyundai fully and we corned It off and recorded it off and we are taking everything inside no we're keeping you out anywhere producing vehicles no we also send them to the standard dealerships which are people like Tuesdays who are supposedly doing the wrong thing like cheeseman. When in fact he's helping his people and helping himself to get things

-there's a huge number of people who want Leroy to mess around with their son and we don't want that it would preventing it it's a giant day for us there's a lot of stuff going on and we have to publish a few more notes automobiles are coming down here for sale and the morlock are attacking them at the dealer lots Max and others have set up defenses and quite significant ones they also are attacking necessity places warehouses they're trying to break into contaminate stuff and the police have been notified and they're moving out is a huge thing so we're going to publish

Thor Freya

Olympus

[thecrackedbead]

The Cracked Bead (eventually) goes to market

---

A totally authentic, unmodified picture of myself.

---

So I did it. I. did. It. I DID IT!!!

What was it exactly that I did? I probably should have started with that. The title of this entry does little to explains.

Let's try fix that...

The why of things

A couple months ago, I signed up for a craft fair taking place at the Marpole Neighbourhood House. This event has been a long time coming as I started dabbling in selling my creations a couple years ago but from a chromatic financial perspective, the dozen or so leafs that are the Green have been quickly consumed by the bonfire that is the Red.

Don't get me wrong. I predominantly bead for fun. It's a hobby, but I'd be lying if I didn't have the odd day dream of *gasp* making money or climbing up to the shining pinnacle where it is a successful full-time career. Obviously, a craft fair would be an excellent way to work towards it. I would get experience selling, network with my fellow crafters and, well, sell things.

Sensible right? Of course it was, but for me sensible isn't necessarily easy.

The how of things

A couple things got in my way. The most obvious one being finding a craft fair. Internet searches sent me to massive craft events in many of Vancouver's biggest indoor venues. Unfortunately such events cost an arm and a leg to pay for a table or, barring that, my first born. The former was impossible as I need both arms to bead and I am sadly lacking an offspring to bargain with. Also I couldn't afford paying with large quantities of cash as that was not in my budget.

Logically, there would be other smaller craft fairs that cost less and didn't deal in mutilation or permanent child-care but the internet was not being helpful in that respect. I, of course, could use it to reach out British Columbian crafters for suggested venues or go to the bigger craft fairs and chat up those crafters. Great game plan!!! Except... Uhm... Here's where we come to the other complication. The complication that is me.

Before I go on, I think it is EXTREMELY important to state that the following problems only crop up when I’m the only one who benefits from my success. Put me in a workplace or abandon with a horde of small, needy and vulnerable babies and I’ll do well, if not excel. Though in the latter, I’ll do this by calling the police on the person responsible as why they have a horde of babies and why they left them with only a single person to care for them is a touch suspect.

Now that we have that out of the way, I have mentioned in my blog is not just about beading but about mental health. I find blatantly exposing it to the world actually helps me. Putting a neat definition on anything involving the mind is tricky so I'll stick more to one of its effects in this post. I'd have my excellent plans of how to find a craft fair and suddenly come up with one billion ZILLION reasons why I wasn't ready for one. I needed more merchandise, more busts to display them on, my merchandise was shit, no one would like my beautiful merchandise, Ineededevenmoremerchandise,morebusts,mymerchandisewasstillshit,stillnoonewouldliemy merchandise,etc,etc,etc - OH LOOK! SOMETHING SHINY! - etc.

..Sigh. That is my brain in its anxious procrastination mode.

Thus, one day, when I was heading home and I saw the poster for the Marpole Neighbourhood House's Christmas craft fair and had the inkling that I afford this one, my inner monologue was a deluge of "Do it. Don't think. Do it. DO NOT THINK!" as to wash away other, nastier thoughts before they took hold.

I looked it up on my cell. It turned out to be too late to sign up for that one but I did put myself on the notification list, all the while continuing with "Do it. Don't think. Do it. DO NOT THINK!" (How it is possible to sign up without thinking, let alone think to I am not sure. Maybe I'm talking to my nuttier side?) A month later, the notification came and after about of a week of dithering back and forth on the worthiness of my stuff with breaks for - OH LOOK UP IN THE SKY! IT'S SUPERMA - Wait, that's just the sun. - BUT ISN'T IT PRETTY?! - I managed to sign up. I'm not sure how.

Thankfully, once I'm committed, things becoming considerably easier. My self-sabotaging self sulks in the corner periodically where she makes the occasional snide comments. Whatever. I am a Vancouverite. A little rain on my parade was hardly going to stop me.

Naturally, it snowed instead.

The snow on my parade

Now, this is the part where my fellow Canadians start laughing at me and the rest of Greater Vancouver. Snow is what we're known for and Vancourites, uh, start panicking when there's a half a centimetre of the stuff on the ground. To be fair to us, in our considerably more temperate climate, we don't have the infrastructure for it. So when, like last weekend we got 20-30 cm dumped on us overnight, things got complicated.

While the craft fair remained on, my initial car-borrowing plans to bring myself and my merch got torpedoed for safety reasons. I mulled over alternate arrangements while my self-sabotaging self hopped up and down in her corner, making comments that sounding annoyingly logical. Safety is important, cabs and Ubers are expensive, and with the snow, who knows how many customers would be there? But... even I had to turn back because of the weather, even if I didn't sell a thing, if I stopped myself now, who knows when I'd next be able to get up the guts to push my little dream out into the open?

Failure is the mark of a life well lived. In turn, the only way to live without failure is to be of no use to anyone. Trust me, I've practiced. — Brandon Sanderson, Oathbringer

Risk for potential mental well-being...Worth it?

The dramatic decision

At about 3:00 AM (stress had been messing with my sleep), I started packing all my stuff into my backpack and a heavy, giant clunker of a rolling suitcase I own. I'd take transit to get to the general area and wade though the Devil's Dandruff as necessary. I WOULD make it to the fair. Whatever happened next, that had to be worth something.

It had to.

The Journey

Here's the part where I tell you the trials and tribulations of my journey to the craft fair. Thing is...there weren't any unless the effort of dragging myself out of bed after the aforementioned early morning Dramatic Decision counts.

My step-dad drove me.

He had the right type of tires and driving experience and, knowing how much the entire thing meant to me, offered. I got to the fair easily, in good time and the weather turned out better than the forecast predicted.

Life can be weirder than fiction but typically is more boring. Given the type of fiction that I like reading, I'm happy for the anticlimax.

The Fair

What can I say about the actual craft fair. In some ways, I think I this is the dullest part to recount though, for myself, the most pleasurable as inner turmoil is only interesting after the fact, if ever.

I take a great deal of pride that many of the things I used in my set-up (the mirrors, the earring 'racks' and most of the linens) were thrifted or found at a discount. Even a fair bit of my jewelry are at least partially made from thrifted or salvaged beads. Much the clothes you see me wearing are too. I love thrifting. It's an addiction.

I was lucky enough to have my table positioned between the lovely Eleanor and Tracey. Eleanor had a selection of lovely handmade cards and gave me excellent advice involving social media to grow my business. Tracey sold a selection of decorated, handmade journals made from such things as vellum and exquisite glass bead earrings which almost made me wish to be next to a different vendor but this sentiment was fleeting, washed away by my admiration for her work and our neat discussions on bead craft. Both her and Eleanor made great company. They gave me freedom from boredom during the duller moments of the fair and generally were my cheerleaders.

---

Eleanor and Tracey respectively.

---

The journey home

Another anticlimax. Whoohoo!

Thank you, evil stepfather. Though you may want to check if you still qualify for the 'evil' status.

Next time?

I think I can do better. Here's a few thoughts:

The snow likely did do a number on my customer count.

I can experiment with my display. Things were missing due to the weather complications but at least I should have a sign. Maybe try a few setups and have internet people give me feedback. Invest in a 2x5 foot table possibly as least for demo purposes.

Try different sales tactics. I have a 'slight' tendency towards talking, particularly when nervous. This is great with some customers but can drive others off.

Get new business cards. The current ones don't display any jewelry on them though they do feature my lovely Cracked Bead icon. Also, I recently discovered that I put the, uh, wrong email address on it. Sigh.

Continue to reach out the local crafter community. Remember 99% of them are nice.

But above all, I need to get out there and do a fair again. Use the momentum before my doubts and distractions drag me downward.

There a place called Slice of Art that regularly hosts crafters for ~$50/table. More expensive than this last one and my doubts have Opinions on the matter, but...

Right now as I'm writing this, I'm going to open the sign up page, input my details and...

I DID IT!

---

Me again. Though my head looks strangely skinny compared to the first one.

---

#behind the scenes #mental wellbeing #mental healt #craft fair

[musicsecretsexposed]

MSE 002: What Should Be Included In Music Lessons?

Greetings to all in the soul journey of #MusicalSecretsExposed. We are in the middle of January 2021 as I record this podcast And the world is in the middle of a pandemic crisis.Today I expose what should be included in music lessons. I dropped a few bombs in the last podcast. So if you haven't heard it, I suggest you go back before you continue listening to this one so we all have the musical learning foundation and can move forward towards tuning in! https://blog.musicsecretsexposed.com/2021/02/mse-001-music-tutors-which-one-to-look-out-for/ I remember my first few years of music lessons so clearly. After the basics were put into place during the first year, I was automatically signed up for annual exams without much choice. The academic year would begin in September and concluded in May or June in the following year. The exam was quite a nerve-wracking experience. I wasn't the most confident child out there, to be honest. There were three pieces to be learned with scales. Music lessons were 20 minutes in length, and only towards year-end were sight-reading tests and oral training included along with theoretical elements connected to the pieces. As a side note, I don't agree with this approach entirely. But more on that later. My personal practice sessions were at home, done on my own, tucked away in the corner of a sitting room separated from the rest of the house. There were days my willpower gave out. But I had an inner agreement with myself that if I would try my best, there would be nothing more I could do if I failed. I would be happy with a basic pass mark at year-end. In other words, my expectations were low. Facing the exam may have been nerve-wracking, but it was also an internally strengthening experience. The examiners were always friendly and chatty, and my marks were pretty good, but I never connected with any other musicians in any meaningful. It ended up being a solo journey that challenged me more than any other task I understood. Faced with a whole new set of circumstances, I disappeared into the background even more so music was a means of expression that otherwise well, I don't know where I would have channeled all my inner emotions at that time. For the first time, though, I saw the competition between music students, thus I recoiled, working diligently to pass my exams I remained quiet and uneventful. However, looking back, I now know that even though my early musical years were uneventful and gray, so much removed from excitement - I have developed skills that have come to my aid more than I can tell you about today. So it begs the question: Why learn music since for most it won't probably generate a future income or as a career path? Throughout my years as a student and now as a tutor, I have learned that music is like therapy that once included in life's experience, can pay dividends in a multitude of ways. It provides more diverse self-expression, helping the brain to become more connected to the heart space, firing up new neuron pathways helping the problem-solving side in the brain. For example, it has been scientifically verified that a student learning piano and constantly playing the instrument from young age forces the brain to connect in a way that no other activity can do. But this also is true for other instruments. Moving from primary to secondary education was traumatic in a number of ways. A number of unexpected curveballs were fired at me but I found music studies in secondary fascinating while my piano lessons remained steady in the background. Music studies gave me a frame of reference that helped me place society, historic events, and more into something I could tangibly understand. It developed my problem-solving processes and helped me to grow my internal coping skills when dealing with difficult situations. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0JKCYZ8hng Anita Collins in a TED talk provides this fascinating insight: Did you know that every time musicians pick up their instruments, there are fireworks going off all over the brain? On the outside, they may look calm and focused, reading the music and making the precise and practice movements required. But inside their brains, there's a party going on. How do we know this? Well, in the last few decades, neuroscientists have made enormous breakthroughs in understanding how our brains work by monitoring them in real-time with instruments like MRI and PT scanners. When people are hooked up to these machines, tasks, such as reading or doing math problems, each have corresponding areas of the brain where activity can be observed. But when researchers got the participants to listen to music, they saw fireworks, multiple areas of their brains were lighting up at once as they process the sound. took it apart to understand elements like melody and rhythm, and then put it all back together into a unified musical experience. And our brains do all this work in the split seconds between when we first hear the music, and when our foot starts to tap along, was when scientists turned from observing the brains of music listeners to those of musicians, the little backyard fireworks became a Jubilee. It turns out that while listening to music engages the brain in some pretty interesting activities. Playing music is the brain's equivalent of a full-body workout. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0JKCYZ8hng This insight begs the next question. What about the common reputation of hideous boring music lessons and boring music . Consistent practice every day of the week, and so on, year after year, month after month, week after week, day after day? Look, we all know Rome wasn't built in a day, therefore, meaning a step-by-step approach is needed, at least in the early stages. In the last podcast, I made reference to four key areas that I have observed, can make or break the musical journey. - 1. Effects that a suitable environment can have long term on a student - 2. Developing a healthy body and mind including the role of a musical community - 3. Role of the spirit and how to include it in the development of musical expression. - 4. Developing good habits compared to an over-dependence on willpower. ...so what should a lesson look like for an average student? So let's look at beginners to early intermediate levels. This is where most amateurs fall into. In my opinion, lessons should include the following in bite sized pieces. - First up, pieces for technique development that bring joy and a high vibration. - Second: sight reading. After all, music is a language all to itself. Sight reading is the ability to read music at short notice after looking at it for about 30 seconds. - Third: a little written music writing. What you learn in practice, when written on paper is solidifying new knowledge that you were learning practically. After all, why do children get homework in school? They are writing what they are learning to solidify what is new to them. - Fourth: include oral training in lessons This is where many fall down with traditional music learning or simply put, the training is not included. Aural training is where some exercises are played, the student listens and has to respond in some particular way. Now, this means that music lessons need to be at least 30 minutes per week or longer as needed. In the olden days, it was normal to have 2 x 30-minute classes per week ideally more than 72 hours apart. How about that? I think really, that we can learn a lot from the old masters. To be honest, I do think exams are a good fit for many as it's a tangible reward to drive for but they should not take over the whole music experience during the year. This is where I see the need for musical communities to be established in contrast to amateurs putting out videos trying to showcase what they can do on platforms like TikTok or YouTube. Listen, I could say a lot more here but that's a topic which I'm going to delve into in a future episode. In the next podcast, I'm going to dive into how we can create an environment that strengthens and inspires good habits above a sole dependence on willpower. Read the full article

[spookymeowmeow]

This one.... is gonna be niche.

I was just rewatching the Dream/Techno duel from Dream's perspective. I noticed that he mostly refers to himself as "we," which is super interesting! I actually do that as well, and it's something I've talked to a lot of people about.

Most everyone changes up how they refer to themselves when they self-talk, but it seems like most of us have a preference for one thing. Most people I've talked to usually call themselves "I." It makes sense, that's how it works in conversation. A lot of people also refer to themselves as "you," and some call themselves by their name or pronouns.

Calling yourself "we" is what I've seen psychoanalyzed the most. I don't have an answer for what it means, but it is just a weird interesting thing that I related to, and maybe a handful of you guys will too?

And yeah, sure, he might be using the royal "we" and including his fans, but let me have my fun.

#did this rambling make any sense? probably not #every day i find something new i relate to with this man #is this an adhd thing? an anxiety thing? nature? nurture? i don't know lmao #i have put so much thought into this in the past and i just had to point out when i saw dream doing it #should i be exposing the inner workings of my brain like this?? #if anyone rb's tag how you refer to yourself when you talk to yourself in your head (or out loud) #i feel weird tagging this at all but i will just a lil #dreamwastaken #dteamblr #dream team #it's midnight i might delete this later if i wake up in the morning and think it's too weird looool

[bbybaku]

cranky no nut november boyfriend shigaraki

yes i know its july. 

1.8 k words 

slow burn but there is smut 

warnings: angry shig, humiliation, degrading, oral (fem recieving), use of vibrator, shoes on bed, angst, fluff, mentions of masturbtion

your boyfriend, tomura shigaraki, had made a bet with his friends, about who could last the longest during no nut november.

you thought a month wouldn’t be that bad, right? you guys could handle it.

the first few days were nothing. you two were busy and didnt think that much of it. 

but the first weekend shiggy had invited you over to watch a movie. which was usually code for “let’s fuck”

you went over to his apartment, about 20 minutes into the movie you slipped your hand under the blanket, feeling around for his cock.

“hey” he said softly but irritated as he picked up your hand and moved it.

“what? we always-“ you asked

“i’m taking this month seriously, i can eat you out or something but we cant, you cant” he said

 you were not expecting him to take it this seriously.

you knew your boyfriend he never took anything seriously? why did he have to take this stupid month seriously.

“well, do you want?” he asked as he ran his fingers over your clothed clit.

“no let’s just hang out tonight” you said.

“okay” he said then kissed you on the head and pulled you into his lap.

you could feel his erection. but you knew you had to ignore it. 

week 2 was easy because shigaraki was out of town for a work trip.

you didn’t know how he was doing it. no sex was one thing, but not even masturbating?

you had been touching yourself every day to the thought of him, the pictures you had of him and sometimes 

the movies you had made together.

the night he got back he came straight to your apartment.

he looked pale.

you went in for a hug, but he pushed you away.

“no” he snapped “ i just wanted to see you”

you gulped “oh okay”

you cooked dinner and he told you about the trip.

the space between your thighs ached the entire evening.

you asked him to stay the night but he said he no.

and he left. 

it was day 15. you needed him. your hand could only do so much. you couldnt do what he could do. he knew your body better than you did. 

you texted him to hang out. 

the two of you got coffee then made out in the car. 

his mouth tasted so good. your body presses against the console, arms around his neck. the kiss starting equal but he very quickly shoved his tongue in your mouth. he took your jaw in his hand and held your face while his tongue circled yours. you sucked on his bottom lip. his hand found your tit. your hand found his crotch. 

shigaraki instantly pulled away, he was pissed “how many fucking times do i have to tell you no?” 

you sighed “im sorry i just-” 

he pushed his hair out of his face and took your jaw in his hand again. “look at me. i want to be inside of you so bad. i think about you all the time. i love you so much but we just cant right now.”

 his tone made you want him even more. it was embarrassing how hot you got  when he was irritated. and he knew it. 

“i hate this stupid challenge” you said through his grip on your jaw. 

“do you want to be like that?”  he talked down to you with a smirk.

“we can always go back to my apartment, and work on your attitude” he said letting go of your face and grabbing the gear shift. 

you had soaked through your panties a while ago. you were excited but knew you wouldnt be filled up the way you wanted to be. 

the drive to shiggys apartment was agonizing. the sexual tension was higher now than it was on your first date. it felt like you were getting stopped at every red light, the car in front of you was always going slow. and both of you were sweating. 

he had one hand rubbing your thigh and the other on the steering wheel, except at stops when he would run it through his shaggy hair. when he finally got to his apartment complex the two of you practically sprinted inside. 

“elevator?” you asked pressing the up button repeatedly. 

he took his hands out of his pockets and said “stairs” 

the two of you raced up to the fourth floor, you beat him but just barely. once both of you were in the hallway he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder.

once in his apartment he didnt even turn the lights on, he took you to his bed and threw you on it. 

he stood over you and sighed. “its your lucky day” he then pushed you up to the headboard and pulled off your panties. so eager, you were both still wearing shoes and the window was open. 

you shivered at the cold air on your exposed heat. 

shigaraki just stared for a minute. he loved vulnerability. 

he loved having you at his mercy. 

he pushed your skirt up and grabbed onto your thighs. 

“i knew you would be soaked.” he shook his head “such a whore” he said.

and just like that he dove right in.  

he licked up your folds and you bucked your hips to meet him. 

his grip on your thighs tightened and he pushed you into the bed.

“dont move” he met your eyes when he said it.

he started sucking hickies on your inner thighs, his fingers teasing at your clit. 

you held his head in your hands, not directing him, but rubbing his scalp. 

he occasionally hummed into your thighs at the feeling. 

he pulled off of your inner thigh and brought his mouth and nose to your entrance. you whimpered, expecting him to relieve your ache. 

he blew cold air on your exposed heat. 

you cried out. 

and shigaraki crawled up to meet you at eye level. 

he straddled you and leaned down “beg.” he whispered 

“please” you whispered

“i dont get anything for this. why should i be nice if i dont get the reward of your tight little pussy? or getting to fuck your pretty face. make it worth my while. give me this one little thing.  i said to beg like the whore you are.” 

you gulped. “please tomura. i touch myself to the thought of you every day and nothing satisfies me like you do. i just want you. i want you to fill me up and please let me come. please sir.” 

“hmm okay, i guess but its embarrassing that you touch yourself so much, you really are a whore.” he said as he repositioned his mouth at your entrance. 

he once again pinned your hips to the bed and brough his mouth to your entrance.

his long slender fingers ran through your folds a few times before stopping at your clit and rubbing circles. 

you moaned in pleasure, finally. shigaraki was relieving your ache. 

he sucked on your entrance and drank your juice like it was water from the tap. you could feel his tongue at your entrance, he tease then run his tongue through your folds. 

your entire body was shaking and the knot in your stomach was about to release. 

“please i - can i please” you whined. 

shikaraki hummed yes into you, his grip on your thighs tightening 

the hum was what sent your over the edge, your walls tightening and releasing around shigarakis mouth. 

he pulled off for a moment and looked at you “that was fast. youre so easy, y/n, you know that?” 

and at that he went right back to what he was doing, only this time it was his finger. at your entrace and his tongue on your clit. 

his tongue going all around and eventually stopping and making out with your bud. 

you were crying at the pleasure. 

his long fingers going in and out, and in and out. at no particular speed or regularity and occasionally stoping to curl inside you. 

your hands went to shiggys hair, but you couldnt control yourself the way you had earlier. your hands were shaking as the held onto his head.

you came again, it was so fast you didn’t even have the time to ask.

you could feel him smiling on you.

shigaraki pinched your thigh, acknowledging your high, but showed no sign of stopping.

he maneuvered a little bit, grabbing something under the bed while still fingering you. 

if you thought you were a mess before, you were wrong. because you were even more of a mess when shigaraki started rubbing around your clit with a vibrator. 

your back arched and you grabbed onto the sheets, so as not to pull on shiggys hair, “pleASE. m-gonna c--um” you barely got out. 

your lower body convulsing. 

tears started streaming down your face, it hurt so good. “dont cum yet, baby. i want you to wait this time. like i have to wait.” 

“no-oh-oh-o” you sobbed 

shigaraki mustve been getting irritated because his grip on you tightened, and he pinched your inner thigh. 

“please” you whimpered, running your fingers through his hair as gently as you could. 

“no” he said sweetly. 

your vision was starting to blur and you were still crying, “isnt this what you wanted darling?” shigaraki asked. 

you only sobbed in response, you were loosing the ability to form coherent sentences. 

the knot in your stomach released without warning, and you came on shigaraki’s vibrator. 

with that he sighed and stood up, going to the bathroom to help you clean up. 

despite your scattered brain, you knew your boyfriend well enough to know that he was in agony. 

“does it hurt?” you asked him between deep breaths. 

refering to how bad he wanted you, and how hard he was in his pants. 

he waled back in with a towel and said “yes” looking down at the ground. 

“well what if we” you started. 

“no, im tired of having to explain this to you.”

“please, i just want you so bad” you begged as he climbed on top pf you.

“i said no! just fucking shut up” he snapped

“why?" you whinned

he found your wrists and pinned your hands beside your head on the bed. 

“everyone gets a different penalty. do you know what mine is if i fail? huh? do you want to know”

"um i-” 

you went to speak but no words came out. 

shigaraki leaned down “my penalty is to send the group chat a video of us having sex” 

“oh” you said feeling yourself blush

he gulped and looked away “which i really dont want to do because you are mine.”

he released your wrists and fell on top of you, “youre all mine” 

“please just wait 2 more weeks” he whispered into your neck. 

masterlist

#mha shigaraki #yandere mha #shigaraki x reader #yandere shigaraki #shigaraki smut #tomura smut #tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #mha smut #bnha smut #lov smut #shigaraki brainrot #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki angst

[sciderman]

can we get a new post of sexy peter (not sp w the mask)? i miss that sexy guy n i also want sometimes new to feel gender envy over

you know what, i have just the thing! i wrote this as a chapter for it came from outer-space, (which you should all read for delightful bites of peter parker nonsense), but i won’t be posting it to AO3 quite yet 

i couldn’t get the idea out of my head that 1. the suit can take on any shape you want it to and 2. peter parker has gender feelings 

So, Reed was running some experiments on the suit. 

And Peter… well. Peter was doing some experimenting of his very own. 

“So, I think it and you do it, right?” Peter said to no one. To his reflection. To his (definitely entirely non-sentient) suit. “That’s how this whole dynamic works, right?” 

No response. 

Peter examined himself in the mirror. His body, neck-to-toe, dipped in sleek, form-fitting black. 

He brought hands to his stomach, tracing his figure. His subtle curves. Something he didn’t often pay attention to enough to appreciate. 

Peter closed his eyes, and the suit began to shift and morph, tickling his skin. 

He opened his eyes again, met with the mirror. 

The suit hugged low on his hips, and exposed his midriff. Lean, toned muscle, and sharp hip-bones. The top half of his suit clung tight to his protruding chest. The white of the spider-insignia bold and bright. A flattering crop top. 

“Hm.” Peter said simply. 

Peter had kind of always loved the exposed midriff look. 

A little playful. 

A little slutty. 

Peter bit his lip. 

His hands slipped down his hip-bones. Following down his inner thighs. 

The suit crawled up his thighs, hugging his ass in the form of tight little briefs and thigh high black stockings. 

Peter tilted his hips. Turned to his side. Bent over just a little, gazing in the mirror, coquettishly. 

“Hm.” 

He brought a hand to his ass, pushing his hips back. 

Looking good. 

So, so good. 

The suit became skimpier and skimpier. Forgoing the sleeves for the shape of a sleeveless tank. Then tight, kinky straps. 

“Mmhm. Mhm.” Peter said, nodding. Like he was assessing the results, and forming conclusions in his head. All the while rocking his hips from side to side to some unheard rhythm. “Uh-huh.”

Abruptly he did a drop into the splits, slowly pulling his body back up, leading with his ass. 

Flirting with the mirror. 

Blowing it a kiss. 

He popped a leg, and threw his head back, strutting down th–

Spider-sense. 

The ground shook. 

Momentarily Peter wobbled on his suit’s high heels. 

Of course, of course. New York was long overdue on it’s monthly monster attack. 

The suit covered Peter’s face, masking up. 

In one bound Peter leapt over to the window. Skimpy skirt fluttering as he threw himself out of it. 

Phew! Breezy, isn’t it? Peter shivered at the sudden chill against his skin. 

His eyes widened as his brain finally caught up with him. 

“Um! A little coverage, please?” Peter pleaded politely to the suit, as he swung out of sight. 

The suit enveloped him whole again, wrapping him up. 

“Phew.” Peter sighed, “Could’ve flashed the entire friendly neighborhood.”

#my writing #peter parker #fanfic #symbiote suit

[superstition13]

So I have a University assignment due at midnight, which I have absolutely zero motivation to do, but it did inspire this little piece.

Distractions

//AKA Dabi Distracts You From Your Work 💙

Dabi x Female Reader (NSFW)

Genre: smut, porn with very little plot involved, fluff

Includes: biting, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cock warming, teasing, pet names, fingering, crying (pleasure), after care, Dabi’s piercings

You can’t tell me that Dabi isn’t the type of guy who would gladly use sex as a means of distracting you from your work

Especially if he feels as though you’re paying too much attention to it and not him

And if you’re a university student, he would definitely fuck your brains out instead of letting you finish an assignment that he knew you had due

Maybe you make the mistake of letting him sit in your desk chair while you sit on his lap, so at least you can be close to him

He’d start off with his chin resting on his shoulder and his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, but it wouldn’t take long for his hands to begin to wander

One hand would drift down to your inner thigh, and begin tracing feather light patterns along the exposed skin he found there with the tips of his fingers, teasingly close to where you really want him to touch you

Meanwhile, his other hand has slipped under your shirt and is now toying with your nipples

And while all this is going on, you’re still desperately trying your best to concentrate, but it’s becoming increasingly harder for you to focus on typing out an essay when your boyfriend’s hands are doing sinful things to your body

It’s when he starts trailing his lips along your neck, nipping, sucking, and leaving tiny bruises behind that you give in to his touches

Dabi’s hand leaves its place on your thigh and his thumb hooks around the waist band of the skimpy pair of gym shorts you’d decided to wear around the house that day

You raise your hips, just enough for him to slide them down to your knees, where they fall and drop to the floor

He pops open the button on his jeans, and you swear you can feel yourself getting just that little bit wetter at the loud sound his zipper makes in the otherwise quiet apartment

His hands go to your hips, and he lowers you onto his achingly hard cock

A small gasp escapes your lips, you’d been careful not to brush up against his dick while you were working, not wanting to encourage Dabi’s teasing

You’d known he was horny, obviously, but you hadn’t realised how hard he truly was

The two of you moan when he’s fully sheathed inside your heat

You expect him to start bouncing you up and down on his cock, but when he doesn’t you figure he wants you to be the one taking charge

Instead, his hands tighten around you warningly, and he keeps you seated firmly in his lap

“Don’t you have something to do, princess?”

“But I thought-”

“You thought wrong angel.”

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, knowing full well that if you turn your head to look at him, you’ll see one on his face

“Consider this your punishment for ignoring me.”

Part of you can’t believe Dabi is making you finish your assignment instead of fucking you, especially when his cock is buried inside you

Another part of you can totally believe it, knowing all too well what a tease your boyfriend can be

He sits back and begins drawing lazy circles around your throbbing clit

Somehow, you manage to type out a paragraph, and you think that maybe you can do this

Until Dabi decides to flex beneath you, the seemingly innocent movement making his dick twitch inside of you, driving you crazy from the stimulation

You could have tears rolling down your cheeks as you beg him to bend you over your desk and just fuck you already

Instead, he’d have the audacity to coo softly in your ear:

“Come on baby girl, I thought you needed to concentrate?”

But the moment you finish that assignment and submit it to your Professor, he’s pulling out of you and standing up so fast that the chair he’d been sitting on falls over backwards

He quickly manages to get rid of the few articles of clothing the two of you have left between you

Before you know it, Dabi has you bent over the desk, one hand tangled in your hair and the other at your hip in a grip so tight that it's bound to leave bruises. He thrusts into you rapidly, setting a brutal pace. The sounds of skin on skin slapping together, and the obscene noise your cunt makes as he fucks into you fills the air of the studio apartment you share with him.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to cum around Dabi’s cock, already pent up and overflowing from almost an hour's worth of Dabi teasing you. Your thighs are glistening as you let go, screaming his name so loudly that your neighbours are sure to file another noise complaint against the two of you come the evening. He releases his grip on your hair, trailing his fingers down your body until they rest between your thighs, and begin to draw circles around your clit once more. Gone are the slow, teasing touches from earlier his only focus is on making you scream out his name out for a second time before he cums. Dabi leans forward, his chest pressing flush against yours back, practically laying on top of you as he rails you without mercy. You realise that you can feel the cold metal of his nipple piercings pressing into your back, and the mental image it conjures makes you clench around him. Dabi lets out a soft groan, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Fuck sweetheart, you have no idea how good you feel wrapped around me,” he pants, his voice breathy as it caresses your neck. “So good and tight for me, fuck. Come again angel, one more time, I wanna hear you scream my name.”

“God Dabi, yes! Yes! Yes!” You whine, trailing off into a hiss at one particularly hard thrust. “Right there baby, I’m so close, fuck!”

Without missing a beat, he shifts himself slightly, angling his cock in a way that Dabi knew would have you seeing stars and hurtling over that precipice you were dangling from. You were convinced you could feel the tip of him pounding against your cervix, dragging deliciously against your walls in all his pierced glory as he brushed past that sweet spot hidden inside of you with each and every punishing thrust. This new angle, abusing your g-spot while his fingers danced over clit, your nipples being teased as they were dragged and pushed across the surface of your desk; All of it was proving to be too much for you. That coil deep inside of you winding tighter and tighter, rendering you all but incoherent. Your tipping point however, was when your boyfriend sunk his teeth into the junction of your shoulder and neck. It wasn't quite hard enough to break the skin, but you knew without a doubt that he would leave one hell of a mark. The pain from his teeth sends pleasure arcing through your body like waves of electricity, going straight to your pussy, causing that tightly wound coil to snap as you threw yourself from the edge you had been hanging onto for dear life.

"Fuck Dabi, I'm coming, FUCK!" You sobbed, cheeks feeling suspiciously wet. The way your pussy fluttered around him was exactly what Dabi needed to find his own release, his pace becoming more and more erratic as he continued to thrust into you, working you both through the shared orgasm. Your name left Dabi’s mouth in a loud moan that was practically pornographic. He came inside of you, painting your walls with his seed, your combined release already beginning to seep out of you from the sheer amount of cum he was pumping into your cunt.

Eventually, his thrusts come to a halt. Your face was pressed uncomfortably against your desk, and you were pretty sure there was a pen trapped beneath you, but at that moment you didn't quite have it in yourself to care. Your mind was pleasantly fogged over from the post orgasm haze, and had someone asked for your name in that given moment, it probably would have taken you a few minutes to recall.

The first thing you became aware of, was Dabi pressing a series of gentle kisses to your neck, paying particular attention to the large bite mark he had left in the heat of the moment. It throbbed slightly, but not unpleasantly so, soothed by the delicate pressure of his lips. Slowly, he pulled out, a small noise of displeasure escaping you at the sudden emptiness you felt with the absence of his cock. He pulled you up, and guided you gently over to the bed where the two of you collapsed together. His arms encircled your waist, gathering you up against his chest. Fingers began to play with your hair as your awareness slowly began to return, Dabi's lips now pressed gently to the top of your head.

"That was..." you trailed off, still slightly breathless.

"Yeah." He agreed, tracing patterns along your skin.

"I'm going to need a shower," you winced, feeling his cum already beginning to dry on you. You already dreaded the idea of getting up to leave the bed, knowing that by the time you did, your limbs would be feeling like jelly and there would surely be an ache settled between your thighs.

"Not yet," your boyfriend breathed. "I'll get up and get us a towel in a minute. Just, lie here with me for now, okay?"

"Okay," you murmured against him, not needing too much convincing.

"Maybe I should help you with your work more often, princess," he suggested, but was met with no reply. Dabi craned his neck to look down at you, only to realise that you had managed to fall asleep in his embrace.

Here’s that tag you asked for lovely, hope you enjoyed my first attempt at writing smut.

@simpforsadbois 💜

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