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nouearth · 9 months

Text

lessons in kissing.

dick grayson x male reader x peter parker.

summary: dick and peter become your professors in kissing 101 (& more).

wc: 6.2k. genre: smut. warnings: top!peter, top!dick, bottom!reader, handjobs, blowjobs, kissing, cum-swapping, mouth-fucking, threesome, unprotected rough!sex, reader's first time, characters are aged up!

notes: yeah, so um... this might be my dirtiest smut yet. this was also my first time writing a threesome soooo, i hope i did okay? thank you, anon!

request by: anonymous.

“you’re lying! you’ve really never kissed anyone before?”

“dude, like, ever?!” peter gasped, and you turned towards him, slowly nodding while you grew cautious of everyone’s confusion.

“not even when you were in kindergarten?” you twisted your neck for the nth time at the sound of dick’s voice again, and shame unexpectedly crept onto you the more the two men collected their bafflement together.

your cheeks and neck flamed as they both stared at you, bewildered as if your confession was akin to an unmasking of a superhero—like a family of lemurs, a small one, you’d reckon.

“geez,” your hand clutched onto the can of sparkling water harder before downing it, ridding your insecurity in several hard and fizzy gulps. “if i knew i was going to be interrogated, i wouldn’t have told you guys in confidence.”

“no, it’s just…” a careful exchange was puzzled together by the two men. dick shrugged and peter stammered, following you into the kitchen of his apartment. “i mean, not to make you feel weird or anything, but you’re not ugly.”

“i- pete, was that supposed to be a compliment?” your eyes narrowed at him jokingly, maintaining the coldness of your gaze to break peter into nervous stammers.

“w-what, no!“ he shook his head and approached you closer, a mixture of awkward laugher filling the feigned tension between the both of you. “wait- no, i mean, yes! it’s a compliment.”

you’ve always found it cute.

“i think what peter means is…” bouncy steps followed you two into the kitchen, more-so to sate his appetite for pizza after losing his tenth consecutive match on a game, but consider his curiosity piqued. a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese didn’t stop him from joining. “you’re handsome, he talks about it all the time.”

“dude...” peter grumbled and instinctively turned his body away out of your sight, sipping at nothing in his cup. the only fizz left was the glare he sent dick; like a sparkler on holiday festivities.

“oops, my bad,” another bite, and dick took his cup of soda to gulp the grease down. “we find you handsome—though, i’m pretty sure (m/n) knew that since i hit on him when we first met.”

“god,” you laughed it off, picking the pizza box of gloopy cheese to take it in your mouth. “can you imagine? my first kiss being with you? or even peter?”

yes, you can imagine. those thoughts had run rampant since you met them in freshman year of university, expanded upon it even. what would it be like to date dick? how soft were his lips? and the same for peter. sometimes, you’d even think about making out while he was in his spider-man costume, but that fantasy was shamefully bookmarked into a deep abyss of thoughts, only sprouting when you would touch yourself at night.

“why?” peter turned back, almost offended, while dick’s laughter joined you, and you swear you can feel a draft from how quickly he twisted around. “is that weird?”

“kinda?” the conversation made you shift on your feet. it was more intimate than what you were used to, and they knew it too, judging by the way they both stared at you again—hyenas. “i mean, i guess it’s because we’re so close now, so…”

“pft, that never stopped me,“ it was like a magic spell drew that confession out of dick. your fingers would have to be cut to coerce that out of you, but you weren’t dick—shameless and confident, you admired it on good days.

nonetheless, you and peter both gave dick a questioning look. offended would be a regular person’s first reaction, but from the brief exchange you and peter shared, it was unanimous that curiosity took the lead.

dick’s gaze shifted from you and peter, and when the silence drew out for longer than he would’ve thought, a welcoming draft in the room awaited his rebuttal. “come on- you seriously think i stopped thinking about you guys just because we’re best friends now?

“dude, you think about me?” peter’s eyes widened. it would’ve been hilarious if you weren’t involved. you would’ve passed this off as a banter, no more than that.

you hated to admit it, but you felt yourself throb at this revelation. blood rushed downwards in light speed and you were barely conscious to the drone of peter and dick’s chatter, but you shook it off, laughing at their banters like you aways did.

the day went on like usual. peter’s collection of video games kept you guys entertained for a few hours. when you felt fatigued from mashing your thumb onto the buttons for the ninth match, a walk downtown sufficed. laughing and bantering were the core of your friendship with dick and peter—like every friendship you’d imagine.

but at its finest, it was their vulnerabilities to you, and yours to them, that kept the foundation strong. they trusted you with every secret of theirs, aided them in a few missions of their own, and your friendship thrived.

the next few days haven’t been exactly the smoothest. you were quieter than usual, and they both took notice because you’d pick at your food while their voices—questions and comments—were ignored, passersby to the street of hearville.

was it that weird to have never kissed at your age? to never have had sex? to not even have had held hands with another guy? they never made fun of you, but you couldn’t help but let these thoughts run rampant.

no. no, it wasn’t. people have their own pace. mine... just somehow happens slower.

you weren’t insecure, but you still felt weird. you suddenly became moody when you saw dick and peter, like you want to be left alone, push them out of your apartment when they drop a visit, drop their pants and suck them off-

oh.

ohhhhh.

dick and peter.

“teach me.” you suddenly spoke out and the two men looked up from their plate of food, exchanging a look with each other before questioning you, humored because you barely spoke all day. the tv played in the background and you were all sitting on the ground, eating off of peter’s very… very small coffee table.

“ah, i almost forgot what your voice sounded like, (m/n)!” dick laughed, twirling his fork into his pasta before shoving the food into his mouth.

you made a slight pout, only because they weren’t taking you seriously. though, to be fair, you have been acting weird all week.

“with what?” peter noticed, a little more serious in his inquiry. but food was more of a priority for him, you can see him practically sweating at the thought of leaving his spaghetti cold.

“pete, you can still eat-“ you laughed, taking a bite of your food.

“oh, thank god.” and peter does the same, chowing down on his spaghetti after a hard day of saving lives.

dick cleaned his palette with a cold gulp of soda, a refreshing hiss when the bubbles trickled down his throat. “so, teach you what exactly?” he continued on. “fighting? oh, dude, are you going to be a vigilante-“

“no, no! does it look like i have the strength to be like batman or something?”

“well, i’m guessing that’s why you came to us for training?” dick amused himself, and peter chuckled, much to your annoyance.

“guys, i don’t want to be a vigilante.” you grumbled, beginning to bury your confession deep in the pit of your stomach somewhere. “or a superhero, or a guy in a spider-suit with weird web things.”

“hey, they’re not weird-“

“i want to…” it was calming to watch the way your fork swirled itself into the pasta, metal tongs pierced and capturing a wave of sauce and spaghetti all in one swirl. “learn what it’s like to kiss.”

peter choked on his glass of water.

you continued, hot in the cheeks because you can see peter’s widened eyes even when you look away. “handjobs, blowjobs, everything…”

and a piece of dick’s meatball was caught in his throat.

a low drone accompanied the silence once the tv was muted and while a huge weight lifted off your shoulders and chest, you felt small knowing how vulnerable and weird your request sounded.

“so, you want us to teach you how to…” dick cleared his throat and you feel like you could hear a smile, but you weren’t sure if that was your mind trying to convince you that everything was fine. “kiss and… other things?”

“yeah,” you continued to avoid your gaze, opting for the wooden floor instead. “i know, it’s weird. you don’t have to say yes or anything, it’s just-“

“is that why you’ve been acting stand-offish lately? peter was worried. he was the type to always blame himself of someone else’s behavior, no matter how much you tried to reassure him. though, you guess, he technically was the reason why you became so moody—part of it, anyway.

“mhm.” the silence was defeating, you can hear their necks turn to look at each other—of judgement, most likely.

and it was all but confirmed when you can see them hopping back onto their feet and running—running as far from you as possible. “guys, wait, i’m sorry-“

you looked up and watched them dash to peter’s bathroom, immediately chasing after the trail of their steps in bewilderment. “what are you-“

“first step, make sure you have good breath.” dick handed you your toothbrush, his spare one at peter’s already brushing into the foaming spearmint in his mouth.

“atleastluntilhelikeyousenough” peter gargled thick and incoherent, brushing into his jumbled sentence.

“uh-huh, okay… seems a little obvious, but…” you spread the toothpaste on the bristles of your brush and began brushing, a smile forming because you have to brush the front teeth too—but also because of your best friends.

you can always count on them.

“you ready?” dick naturally became the leader of this impromptu training program. he was the most experienced considering how many women and men you caught him with, and as much as you hated that when you were roommates with him, his expertise was needed in this moment.

“yes.” you sat in the middle of peter and dick, rubbing your sweaty palms against your shorts. a mere flash of regret ignited inside of your beating heart, but peter rested his hand on top of one of yours, squeezing ever so gently to warm and soothe you—to pacify you.

and your worries were quelled when dick does the same, his smile softer, countering his usual playful attitude. “just stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable.” he made you feel safe.

you looked at peter, and he nodded in agreement, his fingers now intertwined with yours. he had always kept you safe, feeling safe, this was a normal feeling towards him. “same with me.” “i will.” your voice was quiet in the bedroom, a mere soft whisper, but they recognized your will to be more vulnerable with one another, to blossom. and dick appeased it with a kiss.

light and feathery at first to test the water, but once dick heard your breath hitch, he applied more pressure in between your lips, capturing them in a slow waltz that kept you on your toes, yet flat on your feet to contain your excitement—your relief.

it was awkward at first, to find your footing. your nose would bump into his, teeth as well, but dick chuckled, assuring you this will always happen.

unbeknownst to you, dick’s been wanting to do this since he met you, and he savored every second. “remember what i told you… build it up.” he reminded you because you were getting eager, following his lead but returning his kiss in hard sucks. “nice and slow.”

peter’s palm on your thigh pressed gently onto your bare skin, mistakenly under the lift of your shorts because he was too in awe of the kiss, but they grounded you from your brief flight to the heavenly clouds nonetheless.

“nice and slow…” dick repeated, and you succumbed to his reminder like a prodigy. “that’s it.” it lasted for a few seconds longer until you pulled away to capture your breath again. your lips tingled still, remembering the taste of spearmint when dick’s breath ghosted on your skin.

“was that okay?” an innocent question, but you swore you stole that exact same tone from a porn you watched the other day.

“a natural,” dick laughed, stroking your hair back and you’ve never see him so affectionate—loving, as he doted on you. “try it on peter. more touching though, if you’re okay with that.”

you nodded and turned your head, meeting peter’s gaze with a flushed smile, your lips slightly swollen from your previous endeavor. “I’m okay with that.”

“me too.” peter smiled, only softening when you leaned in, and it completed hid against you when you captured his smile with a kiss.

his hand gently placed on the back of your head when you did and he pulled you closer into him, returning the kiss, and spilling his breath into yours, while at the same time, drawing yours out. “rub my chest, i like it when people do that.” peter whispered in between each kiss.

you do as you were told, a gentle hand to peter’s broad chest, and you feel yourself tightening, satisfied with how intimate this all is as you felt the muscles on his chest through the fabric.

in the meantime, dick’s been squeezing at the bulge in his pants, containing his will to completely ravish you simply by watching the way you and peter made out. he’s always been observant, noticing the strong twitching of peter’s own erection, and soon yours when peter slid his tongue into your mouth.

it was tantalizing—breath-taking— watching intimacy build up and vulnerabilities become unimaginably pliant before him. the pink muscles looped and swirled with one another, spreading and sharing sticky saliva until your mouth and peter’s were practically coated in it, glossed in sheen.

when peter pulled away, your lips were immediately stolen by dick again, kissing you with more strength than before, stubbornly refusing the chance for you to restock on oxygen as he wanted a taste of you too. the air became thicker, harder to breathe, but you basked in the taste, the wetness of dick’s tongue, and allowed yourself to become weak in his arms when he took you in, embraced you closely. “mmf...” you moaned out, breathing harder.

but just like dick, peter wasn’t finished with you, directing his tongue and lips to the back of your neck when you turned away. his ticklish and fleeting kisses pulled you back into peter’s arms, but dick noticed and pulled you forward: a stubborn game of gentle tug of war.

they wanted you, every piece of you. it was telling as peter sucked into your neck, venomous and poisoning, and when dick began directing your hand under his shirt, allowing you to feel his toned stomach and chest, and eventually his clothed erection, making you squeeze around it with an open palm.

lessons have completely escaped to the back of minds, and all that remained was pure lust.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to.” dick reassured. though, ironically, his hand atop of yours, relieving the ache in his pants continued.

through swollen lips, you managed to mutter, distracted by peter’s bruising sucks to other areas of your neck and skin, whimpering when he bit a little too hard. “i did say teach me everything…” his hands were under your shirt now, warming your bare skin with his palms, excited, but fleeting as they immediately tied to the buttons of your shorts when you gave the okay.

“hey, hey,” dick laughed, watching the way peter has grown grandly impatient. “you’re going to scare him, horn dog.” he left a kiss on your lips, a quick one before leaning past you to kiss peter.

you watched in awe at what a kiss was supposed to be like: burning with ease and passion with every stroke of their lips, no hesitation at all—just a moment of time that they’ll remember. you backed into the bed and leaned against the headboard as they kissed at the foot. you don’t remember having your hand down your shorts, but you do, palming yourself to your own private show.

the kiss ran sloppy, drool dripping down either chins, stained with intimacy, and clothes were quickly tossed to the side, with no care in the world.

you followed.

even though you were similar height to peter, he was stronger—they both were. and now, you felt smaller as they climbed onto the bed, towards you, bare and hardened. you watched breathlessly, as their cocks swung heavy with heat. peter’s pre-cum dripped thickly in yearn for something to fuck, while dick’s throbbed for something to fill—a porn scene come to life—and you were left agape, jaw and legs.

“kinda surprised we’ve never done this sooner,” peter said, you weren’t used to his voice so low. kneeling on the bed, by your left hip, he took your hand and kissed the palm, the wrist of it, skimmed his lips over your forearm before guiding It toward his cock, aching for your touch. “though, was hoping i’d have you to myself, but…” gently, your hand was cradled to wrap around his shaft, warm and running with veins, it pulsed. “this works too.”

your chest rose with every spoken word, and peter has never looked hotter. taking control of you like that made your skin crawl, a spell that commanded you to move your hand back and forth, conjuring you to pump him in slow strokes.

contrary to his overall demeanor, his actions were of warmth. caresses to your head, doting on you with honey dripping from his gaze and cotton in touch while you sinned.

you didn’t know where to look—to fall in love with the way peter gazed at you like a painting in a museum, or to salivate over the way his pre-cum leaked thickly over your hand when you squeeze it out of him, like a bottle of maple syrup.

that became more a problem—a dilemma—when you felt a wetness over your right nipple, then a sting when dick bites to get your attention—selfish and stubborn, like always. “are you sure this wasn’t a tactic to get all three of us in the same room? you seem comfortable.”

he tongued your nub, flicking back and forth to make you squirm, to hear the sound of your moans, to be the reason you have trouble sleeping at night. alongside, his palm ran over your body—chest first, down your stomach, and finally, your erect cock and balls.

you watched, breathless, continuing to stroke peter’s cock and he’d lean over to give you a few kisses here and there. for the most part, he was content like this, watching you squirm while maintaining to do the best to pleasure him.

“no, i swear- it’s just-“ dick played with your balls, squeezing and tugging on the tight sack to loosen them. every man was sensitive down there, you were no exception. “you guys made me feel safe, so…”

“well,” you looked up when peter spoke, his eyes fluttered shut, and you only got them to open when you thumbed the slit of his head, rubbing slick all over his glans, then the length of his cock when you continued stroking. “we are superheroes.”

you all laughed, switching gazes between the both of them, but it was dick’s mouth suddenly wrapping around you that made you concentrate only on him.

“oh, fuck…” warmth surrounded you, inhaled you in one shallow breath, before dick pulled you out of his wet mouth, taunting you with the loss of heat.

“it’s just like kissing,” he said, licking a stripe over the underside of your cock, tonguing his favorite spot: the neck of the glans and the frenulum. dick followed the lines of flesh with precision, leading the very tip of his tongue into the duct of your urethra—once again, tonguing it while his eyes focused on you, devious. “but let curiosity take you further and explore every part of their body.”

“m-mm…” you were sure there was meaning to his words, but they fell on deaf ears. instead, you focused on the ample heat that engulfed you again, moaning.

“every.” dick took you in and pulled you out with a pop.

“fuck-“ you breathed out, curling your toes into the sheets.

“part.” holding your cock up and stroking sloppily, he inhaled your ballsack. sweaty and musty, they must’ve been, but dick devoured the scent, the taste of sins with hungry sucks and licks—ardent and full of fervor.

and at the moment where you most expected to let out a moan, it was shoved down your throat when peter suddenly situated you in between his legs and filled your mouth with his thick cock, smelling of sweat and sex when you inhaled near his trimmed hairs.

“come on,” peter briefly pulled out, tapping the plump tip over your lips. “you learn best when you demonstrate what you’ve been taught.”

peter covered your view of dick, but you weren’t sure if you needed to see him because you felt every maneuver of dick’s tongue, now drowning your cock with his mouth while he continued assaulting your sensitive balls, tugging and squeezing.

you looked up and peter never looked bigger, more intimidating, but it’s become your new addiction, and you take his cock, holding it thick and take in what you can. it was barely past the tip before you could feel yourself gagging, but with peter’s reassurance, you swallow more of him every time you went down, slicking him up with your spit.

“how’s he doing, pete?” your cock was left cold when dick pulled away to speak, but he made up for it with his hand, stroking his spit with your cock.

“he really is a natural.” peter chuckled, watching you with a scrunched face of pleasure whenever you pulled him deeper into your mouth. almost down your throat now, but he pulled his cock back completely before you can fully take him. “you try.”

“fuck, yes.” dick leaped over and used the spit from your length earlier to lube his own cock, spitting in his palm and stroking when it wasn’t slicked to his likening while peter scooted back to kneeling at your side, stroking himself now.

as your head was positioned in between both their cocks, dick’s was bigger, thicker—a mouth stretcher you’d imagine. but peter’s was longer, veinier, and the only thing they had in common was that their balls hung loose. in porn terms, hung like a horse.

and on this very day, you considered yourself a lucky man because you have no objection to either, no will to pick and choose.

“look at you,” dick’s voice was rugged, deep, and he pushed his cock past your swollen lips. there was a clear difference in girth. your mouth was stretched wide, and you could only hum a sound of satisfaction, even with the slight sting from the stretch of skin. “who knew you’d be such a cock lover, hm?”

“he can’t get enough of it, god…” peter was in awe, salivating and stroking quicker at the sight.

two hands kept dick’s cock still in your mouth while you sucked on the bulbous tip like a lollipop. the rest of your hands stroked whatever you couldn’t mange to fit in your mouth. you were apologetic at first, but dick’s smirk told a simple story of his ego, clearly aroused by the size of his own cock as it only grew wider when you struggled downing him, gagging with a whimper.

“come on… (m/n), you can do better than that. you were so good at sucking peter off, kissing us too. what happened?” dick pulled away to stroke himself with your spit, but he quickly buried any excuses into your throat when he pushed himself into your mouth.

“you’re too comfortable now, (m/n). you’re slacking…” peter joined the banter, and when dick pulled out of your mouth, peter’s cock replaced the loss of warmth to your surprise.

holy shit, this is happening.

like a see-saw, the two men alternated in filling your mouth, stuffing saliva further and further down your throat, without allowing a single excuse from you to escape. it’s buried now, deep in the pit of your stomach, and all you can do was be the prodigy that they wished for you to be.

when it was dick’s turn to stretch your mouth, you made sure that peter’s cock wasn’t left abandoned, stroking him with distracted strokes, and vice versa when it was his turn at your throat. you overworked yourself in pleasuring your two best friends, making sure they were satisfied with you, with your mouth as you took more of them without a single plea for a break.

“fuck, there we go…” occasionally, dick would take control by holding the back of your head and fucking inside of your tight mouth. drool leaked down either corners of your mouth while you let him, tears brimming in your eyes when your throat tightened again, a familiar feeling that dick encouraged to hold back. “there’s my star. taking cock like a good student.”

if there was one thing that these very brief lessons have taught you, you were exactly what they named you: a cock lover. you slurped at whatever—whoever—entered your mouth absentmindedly, spat on cocks that have begun to look more or less the same, because it was dizzying now. your cock was left alone, but it stood tall and proud, throbbing as the two men harassed your face and mouth with their erections. one would gag you while the other had his balls shoved to your face and nose, sliding its wet, dirty slick all over your skin, staining you with lust.

it alternated like this for a while, and you were content, so was dick and peter. but you needed more—something to fill you elsewhere that wasn’t your dirty mouth. and you pleaded with your eyes, looking up at your best friends with delighted tears, a mouthful of cock, and a gaze only a cock loving whore could have—and they recognized it.

peter was reluctant to pull away, he was so close. but he’s always been selfless. he released his hold on you and it was a struggle to pull you away, but he did with your lips suctioning off with a quiet pop. a thick string of spit that once connected between your lips and peter’s cock laid like webs on your chin, cooling as you watched the two men reposition themselves.

“i’m going to assume we don’t need a lesson in how to finger yourself, hm?” dick whispered against your swollen lips and kissed you again. you were entranced under his tongue, swirling all over yours like ocean waves while you touched yourself to his licks. you twisted and pinched your nipples, tugged on them with the occasional help from dick, then stroked your cock while dick continued from peter’s original trail of bruising kisses to mark his own territory on your body. you were as horny as they were, if not hornier, and you needed them inside of you, in any way possible.

“fuck, i need you guys so bad.” breathless in your moans, your legs squirmed when you felt something wet between your thighs when they were raised, peter’s nice girth sliding in between the plump skin.

he thrusted himself slow and steady while he worked on your hole, reaching down to prepare you with his lubed digits, one by one. you’ve done this before, they were surely aware, so it wasn’t a unit that was particularly focused.

in between preparation, your mouth remained on dick’s cock again, delivering him your fullest attention with several lathers of your tongue, sucking hard and hollow, deep into your throat. you remember what he taught you and occasionally stuffed your mouth with his balls, sucking on the weight and letting go with a pull because you got off on seeing how they tensed and jiggled when you did.

“i’ll go slow.” peter leaned in with your legs hooked over his shoulders, bending you back, and kissing the tip of your nose when he was close enough to your face. “tell me if you want to stop.”

once you nodded, allowing him the will to deliver on his promise, peter made sure to lube himself up once more before pushing inside of you, slow and steady. he was careful, watching your face as it scrunched when the head slid in—burned when the rest of him filled you to the brim.

it was almost like you couldn’t breathe. it was too much, to be bearing all of this pain alone, but at the same time, you held peter close, wrapped your arms around him to prevent him from leaving you while you buried tiny whimpers into his neck, because you don’t want to stop feeling it, so full and devoured. it was written all over their faces when you glanced at them—they didn’t want to stop either.

peter and dick decorated your skin in wet kisses, distracting you from the pain while peter began to find a rhythm. although slow, you were beginning to familiarize yourself with this pain. soon after, pleasure, when he struck something inside of you, a certain spot.

“oh- peter, right there, fuck.” your legged tightened around him and the sweat from your thighs rolled back onto your stomach when peter re-adjusted himself to fuck you at a higher angle, folding you onto your back.

“yeah? right here?” peter thrusted into that spot dead-on, like a dart to a bullseye, and you groaned, your throat aching in pleasure, but dick pacified it with his cock again, filling you up once more. “oh fuck, look at you. all of your holes are filled up, fuck… so fucking tight”

“baby, you’re doing a great job, god…” your heart beat when dick called you that. it was always something he said as a joke when he arrived to your place. honey, darling, you name it, but the fact that it came out so genuine, it made your skin flush red and you could only respond in moans while you sucked him off. “i think he likes it when you fuck him like that, pete.”

for the first time, you felt wanted.

peter’s thrusts were hard and strong, his balls swung into with every rhythm. you can see the muscles in his thighs flexing whenever he pounded down into your tight hole, your bodies colliding like waves to a rock. it stung whenever his skin slapped into yours, sweaty and musky, but the sinful sounds were well-worth the prize as you basked in them, in the taste of dick’s cock, the sound of peter’s grunts, the flutter of dick’s eyes when you gargled his cock again, deeper, the sweat dripping from peter’s forehead and body—the bedroom hailed of sex. it rocked of brutal creaks and slams as both of your holes were violated and filled to the very brim, all driven by pure lust.

after some time, they switched spots, tag-teaming so dick can have his turn at your hole. unlike peter, he was rougher, immediately pounding into you because he was sex-crazed about you, couldn’t stop thinking about you since day one of meeting you.

“fuck, better than i’ve ever imagined,” he laughed into your mouth, kissing you sloppily, and pulling away when peter’s cock impatiently wedged himself in between the kiss, and you were back to sucking and jerking off cock again—no complaints. “still so tight, even after peter fucked you so hard…”

“it’s like he was made to be a whore, right?” such vulgar language from your best friends broke the original portrayal you had of them. now, all you could think about was how they wanted to absolutely make a wreck out of you, de-blossom your naive thoughts of what your first time should’ve been like.

it wasn’t what you had imagined. it was supposed to be with one person. a full-time commitment to your relationship. a loving pair holding each other close when they both climax. it was going to be special.

but this… you thought to yourself as you were fucked into the bedsheets with absolutely no mercy, your ass pained and bruised from dick’s muscular hips driving into you every time he came down, harassing you in that familiar spot again.

this was… peter pushed on your bottom lip with two fingers to open your mouth, then spitting in the void, some catching onto your tongue, before shoving his swollen cock inside of you again, aching to touch—to fuck.

dick palmed your cock as you writhed, bent under him, moaned around peter’s long cock. he gathered all of his strength left to tickle you deep, to reach inside of you with his cock, breathless and panting with every thrust that rocked the two of you together—three, when peter fucked into your mouth.

this was so much fucking better.

“holy shit-“ under dick’s touch, you came hard in several thick ropes, all over his fist, and then the sweat of your body when he opened his palm. you were a natural shooter, accidentally spraying your face with your own thick semen, and you heard peter and dick moan in unison, in awe.

seeing you dressed in cum like this had them race each other to their climax. dick fucked you harder, his grasp on your hips bruising and white, while peter held onto your head and met your throat with his cock, repeatedly forceful in strength. you gagged around him, and they only benefitted from every sound you made.

“fuck, i’m going to-“ you watched peter’s abs flexed, tightened as his stomach pooled with pleasure, and you can hear the holy bells ring when he pulled out of your mouth, jerking his wet and slimy cock off until he came undone in thick spurts, all over your pretty face. not a single shot was missed, painting you in white like a canvas with every last drop.

you were still high off of your own orgasm, and you turned your head to watch dick fuck himself into you, clearly wonder-strucked by the scene before him. you were covered in cum all over. they beckoned him to join, the many loads on your body. they were begging now, a mantra of pleas pulled him closer to you, and he can smell the sex off of you, inhaled peter’s musk as well, and again—those holy bells rang.

with the speed of lightning, dick pulled himself out of your abused hole and climbed over to kneel over your chest, fucking into his fist while simultaneously jerking his cock off over your face. to your cum-covered body, to peter kissing his spunk off your cheek and chin then your lips, to the taste of your own cum when you swiped a load off your chest and fed it into dick’s mouth. he suckled, bittersweet salt spread over his tongue, and he was ravished by the taste of you.

dick then pushed his hips out and aimed his cock over your lips, still connected to peter’s for a messy kiss, stroking until the only reason he tore his gaze away was because his lids fell heavy, ceased his sight to roll his eyes back, and came with a shudder. thick ropes of cum inked on your face and peter’s, but most of it fell to your connected lips.

“fuck, that’s hot…” dick muttered, rolling his shoulders back while he milked himself to you and peter making out, cum-stained and all. you moaned at the taste, saltier than yours and peter’s, and peter does the same while scraping a load of warm cum from the corner of your cheek and into his mouth before kissing you again, swapping the gloopy residue with a sloppy exchange of tongues.

he was envious, watching how the sticky load caught onto your lips then peter’s when he squeezed himself dry. before you and peter could take all of his cum for yourself, he leaned down to join peter for a kiss, stealing the mound of cum that peter has expertly hidden on his tongue. dick didn’t know who he was tasting anymore. but whether it was you, peter, or himself, it was delectable, and he wanted to share the delightful taste with you. he spat the mixture of cum and spit inside of your mouth before webbing his lips to yours, sealing it with one final breathless kiss.

“so, are lessons still on for next week or?” peter lay by your side, and dick joined the other, still dizzied from his high as telling by his shut eyes and drawn out pants.

“i mean… i’m still up for it if you guys are?” you said, leaning over to press a kiss to peter’s cheek. you took his smile as an answer and looked to dick for his.

“mm... yeah.” dick sleepily opened his eyes, his locks stuck to his sweaty forehead while he buried himself under the blanket. you felt his arms wrap around your waist once he got comfortable, muttering a kiss to your shoulder before dozing off.

“we’re good teachers, pete.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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Stick Around

Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’ve been searching for your soulmate your whole life. Maybe you’ve just been looking in the wrong place.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, cheating/infidelity (not by a main character I promise) mild swearing, excessive use of italics

|Age 20|

“You can’t seriously still be reading that stuff,” Oscar says.

You peer at him over the top of your magazine.

“What stuff?” You ask, playing innocent.

“Your horoscope,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Haven’t you outgrown that yet?”

You shrug, directing your gaze back to the page in front of you. Today, you should avoid the color pink and embrace your skepticism. Oscar’s doing enough of the last part for the both of you. You could gain a great deal of information from social interactions. That’s helpful- you’ve been in search of some gossip. Your soulmate is just a click away- wait, no, that’s an ad. You huff and set the magazine down on the table. Oscar nods in agreement.

“I just think maybe it’s better to live your life without worrying about what the stars say,” Oscar says, waving his hands around in a way that you think is supposed to represent the stars. “Just, like… do what you want to do.”

“I do,” you mutter dryly. “Doesn’t hurt to have some advice, though.”

The two of you have always been like this. Oscar is a skeptic, you’re a believer. He calls it being easy to brainwash, says it in a teasing way that makes you glare at him every time. He’s taken it as his responsibility to keep you from falling for things. You’ve told him time and time again that you’re fine on your own. You just like the idea of predestiny, that what’s going to happen was always meant to.

Oscar is just worried you’ll join the first cult you cross paths with.

|Age 5|

It’s the day after you turn 5 when you first hear the word soulmate. Sol-meight. You sound it out through your lips, sticky with jam from your breakfast. Your best friend at the time, a girl whose name you’ve long since forgotten, had said it.

“S’when you’re meant to be,” she explains, in that all knowing tone that only little kids who know nothing at all seem to have. “Like, my mum and dad say they’re soulmates.”

Oscar, who’s sitting next to you, scoffs. “Everyone’s parents say that. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

He’s taller than you, even sitting down, hair cut short after one of his sisters stuck gum in it a few days ago. His cheeks are rosy red, and there’s cream cheese on his nose. Years later, Oscar’s face will be one of the first ones you ever remember meeting. Right now, he’s just the boy in your class whose mother knows your mother, and because of that, he’s the boy who rides to school with you in the backseat. He’s not the worst, you guess. He’s… okay. Sort of just… always there.

“Is too!” Your friend says, shaking her head, pigtails bouncing. “Mum says there’s signs.”

“What kinda signs?” You ask, and Oscar turns to look at you in disbelief.

She shrugs. “Dunno. I’ll ask later.”

She comes back to the breakfast table the next day with a magazine page, torn haphazardly and slightly crumpled. On it is a list of signs someone could be your soulmate. The two of you pore over the page at every available opportunity for at least a week, barely able to read all the words.

Your friend forgets about soulmates a month later and moves on to an obsession with Barbie dolls. You carry the magazine page with you for years after that, until it’s worn and falling apart. Then you copy down the list into a safer place, worried you’ll lose it forever. 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate, written with magic marker on pink construction paper and stowed away in your desk.

|Age 10|

“I hate olives,” you sneer, staring at the very last slice of pizza.

It’s a birthday party. You can’t for the life of you understand why there’s pizza with olives on it. Olives don’t belong on pizza- not much does, in your opinion. Just pepperoni, really. Maybe a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese, if you’re feeling fancy.

Katy, one of your classmates, is standing next to you. “I love olives. Here, I’ll pick them off for you and you can have the last slice.”

The pizza still tastes a bit like olives in the end, probably baked into the cheese, but it’s better than it would’ve been. Katy is your best friend after that. The two of you are inseparable from the moment you get to school until the moment you leave. You beg your mothers for sleepovers on the weekends, for day trips during holiday breaks. YouandKaty. Your names melt together until they become one.

Oscar still rides to school with you in the morning. Sometimes, Katy does too. Katy doesn’t like Oscar. She doesn’t like most boys, calls them gross. Since Katy thinks boys are gross, you do too.

“Be nice to Oscar,” your mother tells you one morning. “He’s not done anything to you.”

You’re in the backseat of the car, on the way to his house. “He’s a boy. Boys are gross.”

Your mother sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. She says your name sternly, and you shrink in your seat. When Oscar gets in, you say hello and force a smile.

Oscar’s the one who finds you crying on the playground. You thought you’d chosen a better hiding place, really- nobody had bugged you in your spot between the two large myrtle trees. But Oscar finds you anyways. You can’t even bring yourself to tell him to go away, too busy feeling sorry for yourself.

“Wha’s wrong?” He asks.

His cheeks are red- he’s likely been running around with the other boys. You shrug, pulling up another clump of grass and letting it fall from your fingers. Oscar sighs, scuffs his toe in the dirt.

“Katy doesn’t wanna be friends anymore,” you say, rubbing at your bare knee. “She says I’m not cool enough.”

Katy likes olives. You don’t. It’s on the soulmate list. You’re meant to be best friends.

Oscar’s quiet for a moment. Then- “That’s stupid. You’re like, the coolest person I know.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Shut up.”

“M’serious,” he says. He holds his hand out to you. “Wanna come play cricket with the gross boys?”

You take his hand, wipe your tears with your other hand. “Yeah. I do.”

|Age 12|

“Are you and Dad soulmates?” You ask your mother one morning, before you even leave the house.

She’s standing at the counter, a piece of toast in her hand, half eaten. Her coffee is half drank, too.

She tilts her head at you. “What do you mean, love?”

“Like, when you met, did you just know he was the one? Did it feel meant to be?”

She laughs. “Oh, god no. We were polar opposites. Barely spoke to each other for the first year after we met.”

You stare at her in surprise. “What changed?”

She sighs, wistfully, staring into her mug. “He asked me if I wanted an orange. I said yes. And when he handed it to me, he’d peeled it for me.”

You blink. “Because you hate peeling oranges.”

“I do,” she agrees. “Love isn’t just a feeling, it’s an action. I think love is more about the choices we make and the things we remember about each other than whatever is written in the stars, honey.”

|Age 15|

There’s a boy on the football team- Ryan. Ryan has dark, curly hair and long, long eyelashes and this smile that makes your heart melt and your brain all fuzzy. Ryan doesn’t like olives, either, but he has a birthmark on the back of his right hand in the shape of a lopsided heart, and if you squint hard enough, you have one that matches on the back of your left arm. You stare at in the mirror for hours after he points it out, his hand on your arm.

You stare at your lips in the mirror for hours, too, after he kisses you for the first time. You think maybe you look different. You must. You’d never been kissed before, but Ryan hadn’t minded.

You go on group dates with him, because you’re nervous and your parents think you’re a bit too young to really be dating. You go to the mall, the movies, the diner down the street from the school. It’s your first taste of freedom.

Oscar asks you if you really like Ryan, like- “like like him?”, one day when you’re sitting in his backyard. Your mothers are inside, drinking wine. His sisters are in the pool, you’re laying out in the sun. Oscar sits under an umbrella and squints at the brightness of the world around him.

“Yeah,” you say, in the same tone you’d say duh or of course. “I think he’s my soulmate.”

“Why’s that?” Oscar asks tilting his head.

“We have matching birthmarks,” you say, again, in the same tone.

Oscar forms his mouth into a little o shape. You squint at him, pushing yourself to sit up.

“Why’re you so worried about it, anyways?”

“M’not,” Oscar says, crossing his leg over his knee. “S’just. He’s kind of an arse, isn’t he?”

He whispers the curse word so his sisters won’t hear. Oscar’s big into karting and racing right now, and the older boys at the tracks swear like sailors. There’s a swear jar stuffed to the brim sitting on the kitchen counter inside, right next to the half empty wine bottle.

Ryan is a bit of an arse, you’ll admit. To almost everyone.

“He’s nice to me,” you shrug. “He brought me flowers, yesterday. Isn’t that what matters?”

Oscar shrugs. He doesn’t ask about Ryan again.

Oscar is the one who brings you flowers when Ryan cheats on you and the other girl tells the whole school. He brings them to your bedroom door and you let him in. He sits with you, even as you cry, the door open the parentally required six inches. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t tell you he warned you. He just stays.

When Oscar moves to England, you wave goodbye with a smile. Then you lock yourself in your room and bawl your eyes out for a week straight, harder than you ever did about Ryan.

|Age 18|

Your university roommate, Emma, was born on the same day as you, at the exact same time. Down to the minute. You find it out on your second day of living together. It’s fate, kismet, meant to be. The stars and planets were aligned exactly the same way when you both took your first breaths.

Oscar laughs when you tell him, though he does admit that it’s a pretty cool coincidence. You’re chatting with him on the phone, telling him about your first week of university. You talk a lot, despite the distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever.

You and Emma aren’t in any classes together- you have completely different majors. Despite this, you still become fast friends. You study together in your room and in the library, meet up for meals, and join a book club together. When Emma gets invited to her very first uni party, she brings you along with her. Your closets become shared.

You visit her family over the winter break for a week. She lives closer to the beach, and you love getting to soak up the sun with her and meet all the childhood friends you’ve heard stories about. Oscar comes home for his break and texts you, wondering when you’ll be back and if you’ll even have time for me, or are you too cool for me now?

You tackle him with a hug when you see him, standing at the kitchen counter in your house when you get there. He’s laughing and pushing you off of him, acting like he didn’t miss you just as much. You know he did. It’s written all over the smile on his face.

Emma visits your family later in the break, and that’s when you have your first fight.

“He’s definitely in love with you,” she insists from her spot on the air mattress on your floor.

She’s talking about Oscar, who she just met today. You’d brought her with to a barbecue at his family’s house. You’re regretting that choice. She’s spent all night afterwards pointing out all the signs that he’s in love with you- his hand on your shoulder, the look in his eyes, the way he smiled at you.

“He’s not,” you say, cheeks burning hot. “He’s- we’re friends.”

“Friends, right. Guys and girls can’t be just friends,” she says.

“Yes, they can!” You say indignantly.

Emma ignores you, rolls over, and goes to sleep. She leaves for home the next day- not earlier than she was supposed to, but it feels weird anyways. When you get back to campus, things feel different. You never really talk about the fight, though there wasn’t much to talk about, anyways. It’s not like she’s mean to you- the two of you still hang out, still see each other often. But Emma makes new friends, and you do too, and you stop doing everything together. It’s alright, you suppose, it’s just…

You were supposed to be destined to be friends. But soulmates shouldn’t be this easy to let go of. It’s written in the stars, it’s shouldn’t fade away like this.

Months ago, you and Emma had talked about spending the holiday break somewhere far away- somewhere tropical, exotic, so grown up and chic. But it hasn’t come up lately, and then she mentions a trip she’s taking with some friends from her classes. You book a flight to England instead and see Oscar in his new home for the first time.

You have new roommates next year. None of them have the same birthdate as you. You think that’s okay.

|Age 21|

There’s a stain on your dress, someone’s wine or sangria or cranberry juice that they’d been too clumsy with. You suppose it could be yours- you’re really not sure. It’s your fault for wearing such a light color to a club like this.

It’s your birthday. You’ve been able to drink for a few years, but it’s still your birthday, and for once, Oscar is there for it. Or really, you’re there for it, there being England. You’re on yet another trip to visit him, money saved and scraped together from your job on your breaks from school. Oscar helped pay for the plane ticket as a birthday present, and your parents got you a new luggage set to take along.

Oscar’s disappeared- at the bar, you remember, closing out his tab. You check your phone- 2:22 am. It’s really time you should be headed home-

You’re jostled from behind, and moments later, you feel cool liquid deep down your back. You turn, and there’s a guy standing there, sandy blonde hair and a terrified look on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, British accent smoothing the words over. “I didn’t mean to-“

“S’okay,” you tell him, though you wrinkle your nose at the feeling of what was likely beer running down your back. “The dress was stained already.”

The man sighs. “It’s not okay- let me make it up to you. Can I buy you a drink?”

You frown. “I think I’m supposed to be leaving. My friend just went to pay.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.” The guy’s eyes light up, then. “Wait, how about I take you on a date?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. 2:22, you remember. Angel numbers. You are in the right place at the right time.

“I’m only here for a couple more days,” you say, cautiously.

“I’m free tomorrow if you are,” he suggest. “Well, more like later today, but-“

“Yeah, okay!” You’d at brightly, and hopefully not too eagerly. “I’m free.”

He’s holding out his phone for you to put your number in when Oscar pops up. He looks between the two of you with raised brows. “Everything alright?”

“He’s taking me on a date later today,” you explain, tapping the last number. “Because he spilled beer on my dress. Can you check if I put my number in right? My fingers aren’t working right.”

Oscar laughs, leans forward, and nods. “That’s right.”

You don’t remember getting back to Oscar’s apartment. You barely even remember the guy from the bar until Oscar brings it up that morning, a teasing tone in his voice. Suddenly you’re checking your phone every minute, looking for a text from him. You name him Angel Boy, mentioning the angel numbers you’d seen just before you bumped into him. Oscar, well versed in your obsession with things that are just meant to be, rolls his eyes affectionately.

When the sun is trending towards the horizon and Angel Boy still hasn’t called or even texted you, your mood sours. You plant yourself on the couch, an episode of some stupid reality show playing. You’re not paying attention, only staring at your phone.

By the time 7:00 rolls around, you know it’s a lost cause. You can hear Oscar in the other room, shuffling around, and you feel tears well up in your eyes. There’s got to be someone out there who’s actually meant to be yours, right? One of these times the signs will be right, and it’ll all work out. It’s just… you’re getting discouraged.

Oscar appears in front of you and slips your phone out of your hands. He shoves it into his own pocket. He hands you a jacket, one of his, and you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m taking you out to dinner,” he says, as he reaches to brush the tears from your cheeks. “Just because he’s not going to text you, doesn’t mean you should just sit here all night.”

You could cry even harder at that, at the fact that Oscar cares enough to try and break you out of your moping. You don’t really want to go out, but he has this hopeful look on his face. Both of you don’t need to be sad today. So you stand up, pull the jacket over your arms, and take a deep breath. You walk out of the apartment, your arm linked with his.

The ramen bar you go to is probably better than anywhere the guy would’ve taken you, anyways. If you’re being honest, the company is better, too.

|Age 22|

Oscar flies you out to the Netherlands to see him race. You’d been at the Melbourne Grand Prix, of course, but he’d insisted he’d fly you out for at least one race in his first season- promised it years ago, when Formula One was just a dream on his bucket list. Zandvoort works well- it fits into your schedule, and the summer break starts right afterwards, so he’ll actually have time to spend with you.

In the days leading up to the race, he’s extremely busy and extremely apologetic about it. You reassure him that you understand, that you knew what you were getting into, knew he’d be busy. You wander around the paddock, say hi to Logan- who you know only slightly better than all the other drivers- and keep yourself entertained. You spend time with Oscar when you get the chance- between interviews and practices, stolen moments of privacy in his driver’s room. It’s nice, it really is, but it’s also… weird.

You’ve been thinking a lot, lately, about what your mother once said about soulmates and love. For all the soul searching you’ve done, all the stars you’ve tried to read, you’ve come up empty. You’ve resigned yourself to the fact that maybe there’s just not anyone out there for you. Maybe you’re not meant to have a soulmate.

The thing about letting go of that pressure, though, is that it leaves space. Not a hole, not an emptiness, just… space. Room for other things to sneak in and make their home and grow. Somewhere along the lines- you don’t know when, maybe it’s been there all along- a seed had been planted. Now the roots are digging cracks in your heart, the leaves are shading out every other thought, and there are flowers blooming.

For months, now, your heart has been jumping in your chest every time Oscar texts you. You can’t wipe the grin off your face when he calls. You’ve been following every race, waking up at odd hours to cheer him on, sending him selfies with the tv to prove it to him, to make sure he knows you’re watching. You feel a little crazy, because suddenly he’s all you can think about.

Maybe love is about choices. You start making them, start choosing him. The only question now is if he’ll choose you, too.

The whole weekend is chaos. Oscar crashes in practice, sending himself and your heart spinning. He’s okay, thank god- though his mother texts you frantically, asking if he’s really okay. Then the race itself is even more chaotic, between the rain and the crashes and all the stuff in between. Oscar ends up in the points, though not as high as he’d hoped to be. You cheer for him either way.

You stick around the paddock all the way through his debrief, even when he tries to say you can head back to the hotel without him. Eventually, you leave with him and Lando, his arm around your shoulders the whole way to the car that’s waiting. It’s nice. He’s warm. Lando is making small talk, trying to get to know his teammates best friend, the one Oscar never shuts up about. You feel your face grow hot and hope Oscar doesn’t notice.

In the hotel lobby, Oscar makes a stop at the complimentary snack bar. Lando says something about Kim, his trainer, getting after him, which Oscar ignores. The three of you ride up together in the elevator, with Lando demanding most of your attention as he begs for stories about Oscar as a kid. Oscar’s quiet- you wonder if the weekend is weighing on him more than he’d previously let on.

You say goodnight to Lando and then Oscar scans you into the hotel room. Two beds, a couch, and a balcony that the two of you had eaten breakfast on that morning. You walk over to your bed and sit on the edge, flopping down onto your back.

Something lands on your stomach, softly. You look down, and your throat suddenly feels tight. It’s an orange. It’s a peeled orange. Oscar is standing at the window, pulling the curtains closed. His back is to you.

You blink, picking it up delicately. “You peeled it for me.”

“You hate peeling them,” he says. It’s very matter of fact. The same tone he’d use to say duh or of course.

You stare at his silhouette, the slope of his shoulders, the soft puff of his hair. You sit up, stomach turning. Suddenly, you need to be close to him. You stand up, orange in hand, pulling one of the pieces from it. You hold it lightly between your fingertips. Love is an action.

You hold it out to him. He takes it, smiles down at you.

“I love you, you know that?” You say, before you lose the courage.

“Yeah, I love you too,” he says, giving you a goofy look.

“No, like-“ you pause. Maybe you shouldn’t do this. Maybe you should just-

But it’s too late, because a wave of understanding washes over his face. His eyes go wide, lips parting. His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, the orange slice still in his fingers.

“Oh,” he says, voice cracking. His face splits into a grin. “Jeez, took you long enough to catch up, didn’t it?”

When he drops the orange slice on the floor so he can grab your face and kiss you, you’re somehow still so startled that you also drop the rest of the orange. That’s okay, though. He’ll peel another one for you without you even having to ask. Stars light up behind your eyes at the feeling of his lips on yours, and you realize then that maybe soulmates are just the people who choose to stick around.

…..

Deep in your desk in your childhood home, there’s a piece of paper. It’s been unfolded and refolded a million times. At the top, the title says, 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate in messy, primary school handwriting. You pull it from your drawer and uncap the gel pen that sits in the cup on the desk.

At the bottom of the list, beneath your faded magic marker scrawl, you add:

#16: He peels your oranges.

#16: childhood best friend??

#16: YOU JUST KNOW

little bit of a different format for this one. as always, feel free to check out my other fics and tell me what you think!

#oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri x you #formula 1 fanfic #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #formula one fluff #formula 1 fluff #f1 fluff #soulmates #f1 soulmate fic #oscar piastri x reader #Spotify #honeywrites #Oscar piastri

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superkirbylover · 5 months

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FINALLY!!! the VERY final refs for the ponified cast of pizza tower. everypony has the same name except for pizzahead, who's called pizzahoof. pizzahoof was also designed by @c0met-dr01d!! go check them out :]

under the cut is me rambling about their cutiemarks (or lack thereof) and other design choices

gustavo's cutiemark is a pizza with three mushroom toppings, because he's a chef, and earlier in pizza tower development, he was a gnome! this isn't the case anymore though, but i still like to think he is. that, and i just associate him with gnome forest, so it felt fitting. plus, i suppose it adds to the mario comparisons lmao

peppino's cutiemark is a pepperoni pizza alongside a pizzacutter. i know people are raising eyebrows at the pepperoni, but my excuse is... uhh, they're not actually pepperoni. it's like, some vegetarian alternative. probably made of flowers or some shit. the pizza is obvious, he's a chef and he cooka-da-pizza. the pizza cutter isn't just to hammer that in, but it's also a callback to the various times throughout pizza tower development where he used to have a pizza cutter buzz-saw! especially in pizza massacre

noise's cutiemark is a bomb with its fuse lit, because it represents his explosive personality and he often uses bombs. dude is wacky, unpredictable and can be a feral fucking thing. also something about acting, being a mascot or being in the showbiz somewhere in the mix. he has a tail, but it's just... in his suit. he's a dumbass

noisette's cutiemark is a ruby chocolate bar. she runs a cafe, and while she presumably has Really Weird Taste, i figured it would be a really cute fit for her. it's sweet, just like her! and pink. just like her!

fake peppino deliberately does not have a cutiemark. it's to add to the sense of "failed clone," where many aspects of peppino have been successfully recreated (body type, hair color, coat color, outfit, facial hair) but other small things have been muddled or changed by mistake (height, eyes not staying in their sockets, hair being more smooth looking, face shape). not to mention, he's made of dough, like his original clone counterpart. in the show, it's established that only ponies can have cutiemarks. while he looks like a pony, who's to say he really is one?

stick's cutiemark is that television hud you see when you have enough money to buy a boss gate in pizza tower. i chose this cause on top of being a tv, a reoccurring object throughout the game, it also has some modifications to make it more... stick-y. it has his hat and a propeller coming from the top, and if you know stick, that man likes to make shit, specifically to sell and make money. that's also why there's a money sign in the tv. stick has a tail stub but i never really draw it myself. he's completely bald. mind you, he still has his coat, but no mane, no tail. zilch. he's a bald motherfucker. also stick's magic color is green

pizzahoof also does not have a cutiemark. he's a fucking cheese pony, why would he need one? dude just exists to be silly and whimsical. giving him one i feel would go against his character of just being clownish, doing what he wants when he wants, regardless if it means others suffer because of him or not. also, he's MADE of CHEESE!!!

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amethyst-aster · 5 months

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@slutty-wizard-council @slymewitch @sageisdoingthings @combustion-witch @pepperoni-the-jesterpuppet @the-final-knight-2 @f4y3w00d5 @monsterfucker-research-wizard @aroace-wizard @the-gnomish-bastard @shark-wizard @wizard-council-bureaucrat @wheredidmybooksgo

@l1terally-justawizard @lixorloveslicorice @akronus-the-insane @tomas-the-slime and everyone else who I may have forgotten.

WELCOME TO THE PARTY!! We have snacks! Games! Magic! Crystals! Music! A cozy corner! Everything you could possibly want. Come celebrate!!!

(free crystals upon entry)

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stuffedteen · 7 months

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Pizza Dreams 🤤

Once upon a time in a small town in America, there lived a young, fit guy named Tony. He had the kind of abs you could grate cheese on and biceps that could lift a pizza truck. But that was all about to change...

One sunny day, Tony decided to take a break from his usual protein-packed diet and go for something different. He strolled down the street, and the delicious aroma of freshly baked pizza wafted through the air. It led him to a place called "Pepe's Pizza." Tony thought, "Why not? A cheat day wouldn't hurt."

He walked into the pizzeria, and the moment he stepped through the door, the intoxicating scent of pizza enveloped him. Tony couldn't resist the temptation. He ordered a large pepperoni pizza and sat down at a table. Little did he know; this would be a life-changing decision.

As he devoured the slices of pizza, a strange feeling began to wash over him. It was as if every bite was filling him with warmth and satisfaction. Unbeknownst to Tony, something magical was happening. The pizza at Pepe's had a secret ingredient, and it wasn't just the love of cooking.

Hours turned into days, and Tony couldn't stop eating at Pepe's Pizza. The more he indulged, the more he felt like he was on cloud nine. He didn't notice the gradual expansion of his waistline or the softness that was beginning to take over his once rock-hard body.

One day, as Tony sat at his usual table, chowing down on yet another pizza, the waiter, a friendly guy named Arthur, couldn't help but notice his transformation. "Tony, you've been coming here every day, and you've changed so much. You've gained weight," he said, unable to hide his concern.

Tony, with a mouthful of pizza, looked at Arthur quizzically, "Weight? Nah, I'm still as fit as ever."

Arthur couldn't believe his eyes. Tony had put on quite a few pounds, and his chiseled abs were now hidden under a soft layer of doughy goodness. Arthur realized that the magic of Pepe's Pizza had taken hold of Tony, but Tony remained blissfully unaware.

Days turned into weeks, and Tony's daily visits to Pepe's continued. His once-impeccable physique was now a distant memory. His firm muscles were now plush, and his biceps had become less about lifting weights and more about lifting another slice of pizza to his mouth.

One day, as Tony struggled to button up his pants, he finally realized the extent of his transformation. He stood in front of the mirror, gazing at his round belly and love handles. It had happened gradually, but now he couldn't deny the truth.

And as he stared at his reflection, a strange thing occurred - he found himself incredibly attracted to what he saw. The rounder, softer version of himself had a certain charm that he couldn't resist. He chuckled, "Guess I've got a new kind of six-pack now."

Arthur, who had been watching his transformation with increasing interest, smiled as he overheard him. Arthur approached Tony and said, "Tony, it seems you've discovered the magic of Pepe's Pizza, and you like what it's done to you."

Tony nodded, "Yeah, I guess I do. I can't resist the pizza, and I kind of like this new look."

#fat #chubby #ex twink #exjock #ex jock

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taakosleftshoe · 9 months

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Nanofather Lore insanepost

Alright. We've seen my murderboard. It's incomprehensible. But for those who haven't, here it is:

It includes... a lot of everything. I couldn't begin to describe the journey I went on putting this together. Without further ado:

The Nanofather, also known as "The Weaver," "Creaky Man," and sometimes "Geltfrimpen" or briefly as "wily weaver," "dirty jeremy," "muck dweller," and "crusty man," is a recurring ominous character which appears most frequently in the opening segments of The Adventure Zone: Steeplechase. He says a lot of weird shit. And after 33 episodes, I believe I have a pretty good understanding of this shit. Take a walk with me, through this 8-part dive into what the Nanofather's deal is.

I will warn you, this is... insanely long. Turn back now.

1. The Foretelling [moments leading up to the weaver]

Back in episode 18 of Ethersea, Justin mentioned how he's the last of them who has yet to DM. Then, later in the episode, Griffin loses his train of thought and Justin prompts him with "Spin the... spin the yarn" and the riffing leads Clint to say, "weave," and Justin says, "step up to the loom... let the weaving begin at the loom."

In the next episode, as the intro song fades out, Justin interjects in a high falsetto song, singing "Weave another tapestry! McElroy Family and me," and the bit goes on for a minute or so. Later, in Ethersea 24, when trying to convince Griffin to reconsider what happened in the narrative, Justin asks him to "Check your loom, weaver!"

When Justin finally makes his Steeplechase debut, he initially struggles with starting the story. So, Griffin jumps in with,

Griffin: "Can I do what you usually do to me?" Justin: "Please." Griffin: "And be like [singing dramatically] 'The yarn-spinner takes the loom in his hands and weaves a magical tale. Take the wizard by his hands as he flies you around on his rug made of wings and a angel’s hair.'"

Every subsequent episode has the same opening. The recurrence of these instances have culminated in the persona of "The Weaver."

2. The Stew [in which the nanofather discusses various culinary topics]

The Nanofather routinely brings up the food of his world, in some way. This starts as early as episode 3, in which he says, "Perhaps a few more moments before the stew is prepared."

Other segments include advice about nano-nutmeg [12], clarifications about cilantro (called corriander in the UK)[29], and directing the addressee to search for pepperoni and green pepper in "the pyre" [19].

The other three instances of mentions of food directly address Shookles the cat. First, "Shoockles, your master calls. Where's the scum canteen? Fetch it from the shoof... my thirst is unslakable" [7]. Then, in the very next episode, says, "Please... the pollen broth. My throat became so dry... Fetch me the pollen broth, Shoockles" [8]. And most recently, he speaks rather dramatically, saying, "I believe I went… as far as I could… I don’t know if… it was far enough… I’m terrified to push it further… I believe this is the limit… Yes… no, that’s true… It’s true… The greater danger is hesitation, yes… I will add one more half-teaspoon of cumin, Shookles. Thank you, Shookles, I… should listen to your culinary acumen more" [22]. This is assumedly in reference to something he is cooking, perhaps the stew mentioned in episode 3. Perhaps all of these ingredients are being used in the stew.

Either way, these interactions tell us that the Nanofather has an interest in cooking, and that Shookles acts as an assistant to him.

3. Direct Interactions [in-character conversations]

There are several instances where the Nanofather speaks with our player characters, or appears within their world.

This first happens in episode 20, when the crew enters the lair of Geltfrimpen and hears a voice familiar to the players coming from the dragon. He says, "Excuse me for this, but I have to keep up appearances." He continues to speak with the boys throughout the scene as they fight the animatronic. He says, "I’m having trouble staying here," and within the scene, Justin describes that, "The sound seems to be coming from like... the entirety of Geltfrimpen. It’s emanating from him, not localized to any one point in the dragon’s body." Beef asks the Weaver if he could come out of the dragon, to which he responds, "Would that I could." When Montrose begins refering to him as Geltfrimpen, he says, "I am not Geltfrimpen. I am here. But I am not Geltfrimpen." Emerich asks for his name, which is met with "Would that I know," but because Beef had called him creaky man earlier, the voice says "Creaky Man will suffice for now, I suppose. A good amount of christening."

He goes on to explain his situation at their behest:

"I will do my best to tell you what I know. It takes quite a bit for me to be as here as I am. But I will try. Part of me is in Geltfrimpen. But I am many places throughout the world. Part of me is here. Part of me is imprisoned here, I think. And through this act, I am no longer... trapped here, this part of me. I’m able to be more concentrated, if that—if that is the correct word, else... elsewhere... I will not be here long, and then I will vacate Geltfrimpen for good. And I will be a little bit more myself, elsewhere."

The implications within this one paragraph are that he does not have much of a physical form, and is potentially some sort of spirit, but he can manifest part of himself at will in some places. Montrose asks if he has a home base, but he says, "I’m... scattered. More accurately, I think... shattered."

He follows with even more interesting information,

"I’ve seen you elsewhere, I was... in one of the vans, as you made the thrilling escape. I was there. I called out, but it was so loud. I have watched you from the porch of Ustaben. In the... the whittling I sat, a rocking chair... I couldn’t summon up enough voice to reach you, but I called out. I called out to anyone who would listen, honestly. But you three are the first who seem to... be looking hard enough to hear."

There have been two heists with van escapes. The first is in episode 3, when Gravel pulled up in a stolen truck/van (it is important to note that they use them interchangably). The four of them were the only ones in the vehicle. However, this escape was not very thrilling, so we are going to refer to the Gutter City heist.

Sticky Finger(s) Paul Pantry asks the three of them to steal a truck called the Clean, and notes that it is made of Hardlight. When the time comes, Emerich has attuned with the hardlight Short Doug and drives in one of the trucks with him [9].

The second thing the Nanofather mentions is an obvious reference to the Ustaben attraction, Whittle Around. In the setup episode, Whittle Around is established as having a porch where "grandpa" sits and whittles wood-- grandpa, of course, being a hardlight construct who was initially Eustace but has since been replaced [0].

The combiantion of these two implies that the Nanofather exists for moments within, or as, these constructs. His spirit seems to be able to travel between them-- to what extent this is under his control remains questionable. Perhaps he is living within the park itself, haunting it. This is given further support at the end of episode 27, when an arcade machine in the back of Poppy's Place crackles with static and we hear the Nanofather say, "act... quickly." Emerich however is unable to make further contact, and this is the last time he seems to interact with them. Montrose says that they "have a ghost in the machine"[28].

4. The World He Inhabits [what we know about the environment, the character, and allusions to mechanisms of communication]

In his first appearance, the Nanofather says to the audience (which may be moreso to the players/player characters? uncertain), "welcome travelers," establishing that we are not from the same place he is.

The world he lives in is fleshed out through each episode. Highlights include "quite a long day tending to the muck fields" [5], "I've missed the meeting with the rust council"[13], and the afformentioned scum canteen. He also says, in episode 6, "I have a new tale for you. Of a muck-dweller turned hero to his- to his people… I seem to have lost it in the last rust storm." This sets him in a sort of wasteland. He also says, or rather, sings, "I'm a neutron guy, you're my nega-girl, I'll sweep you through the ash waste as we make our way through the,"[10] before he cuts himself off.

It seems to be a world where things are rough-- he says, "to make it 37 years is quite a blessing"[13]. That implies his age is 37, or that he has survived 37 years in the conditions that he is in. Additionally, he says, "you will find it in the pyre"[19], a pyre being defined as "a combustible heap for burning a dead body as a funeral rite," implying that they either have to make their own fires or 'bury' their dead.

Notably, there seems to be a recurring theme surrounding weather and time.

"It's gotten so quiet, lately... in the nights... and in the mornings... and the cyber night, the time between the night and the mornings..."[14] "It seems the storms have come early this evening"[4] "The last rust storm"[6]

This implies that time is somewhat technologically controlled, and weather is on a cycle. The building of Steeplechase, or what we are to assume is, is like holographically augmented[31], and so are the inside skies of the park. It is plausible to say the environment wherever the Nanofather is could also be simulated.

5. Wall Breaks [speaking to the players]

These indicate communication from the nanofather directly to the players. They imply to us more about the world, but more importantly, the means of communication and lore surrounding it.

In episode 9, we open the episode hearing a different voice. They say, "Hello? …Hello, spirits?" and begin to knock. "Nanofather says the spirits can hear you through the wall. Spirits… are you there?" But they are interupted by a familiar voice-- "Kavecca!," the nanofather says. "Just another of his stories, I suppose," Kavecca amends. "Kavecca, away from that! You dabble with powers you do not understand!" This raises a lot of questions from the players, about who Kavecca is, why there is another person speaking to them, and what the fuck the 'nanofather' means. What interests me is the referral to their audience as "spirits"-- and what implications does that have? Are they between the world the players inhabit and Steeplechase? Are the players spirits? Also factoring in Blades in the Dark, which has ghosts in it, which have been altered into hardlight for Steeplechase-- maybe the hardlight kept some of that original intent. Maybe that's how the nanofather is able to inhabit hardlight.

In the following episode, we find the nanofather singing a song. What follows is pretty strange.

ohh… I’m a neutron guy… and you’re my nega-girl… I’ll sweep you through the ash waste as we make our way through the…. [click] …do you hear me, Travis? Travis: What? I’m sorry… I didn’t realize I’d left the horn on. Travis: Are you speaking, are you- talking to me? Fare thee well. [10]

First, in "I didn't realize I'd left the horn on," a horn is primarily UK slang for telephone. That could be interpretted here as a literal telephone or whatever line of communication they seem to share. Next-- he directly addresses Travis. This is the first conversation the players have with this character, and so far the only. But it isn't the only time he addresses them:

Clinton? Travis? Gribby? My three… my three favourite micro-nephews. Here to visit me. What a wonderful treat this is… Come. Let me see if I can’t find you a new tale… Griffin: Gribby! Gribby can only say his own name. Justin: Oh? Griffin: Yeah, that’s sort of his thing. Justin: Do you… how do you… I’m surprised you have insight into these three new characters… already. Travis: I’m trying harder and harder to just pretend like we are not on the call when he records that part. Griffin: It’s the only way to not be... ensorcelled by the tapestry he weaves. Clint: Not me. Not me. Did you say Clinton? Clinton… Travis: It sounded like Clinton. Clint: I wonder who that is. Justin: Clinton, Travis and Gribby are apparently, I’ve just found this out with you guys, is— did he say— Griffin: The micro nephews. [15]

This is interesting because Travis is the only one whose name is not altered, and he was specifically addressed before. What we also glean from this is that the nanofather views them as micronephews, so he has an alleged relation to them. Previously, he has called them children but it wasn't apparent until now that he was addressing them specifically.

In the intro with Kavecca, it is important to note that they are the first person to call the weaver "the nanofather." We know from his time as Geltfrimpen that the nanofather has no proper name. Nanofather is more likely to be a title, or rather, a signifier of Kavecca's relationship to him, such as being his child or grandchild. This would put Kavecca on the same family tree as Clinton, Travis, and Gribby, if they really are his "micronephews."

6. Descent Into Weirdness [tonally different moments and their implications]

Everything The Nanofather says is weird, but these are the moments that absolutely baffle me, or upon which he is commenting on the story somehow.

The first time he seems to comment on the events of Steeplechase is in Episode 16, in response to a plot twist at the end of the previous episode (in which the Barrister arrived to kick Emerich's ass but they got him stuck in a machine). He says, "Oh, that’s not right… [rustling paper] …Oh, but this doesn’t make any sense, it was… The story wasn’t like this …. Or… I-Is it changing?" He then follows this in the next episode by... just... breathe-whistling menacingly? Note that this episode takes place when they are travelling between layers, on the start of their Ephemera quest.

Episode 18 starts with, "Oh… Oh, they haven’t… even begun to fathom it… But you…. You swore, we both swore? You know they’re not ready!" I wonder who the "you"/"we" is in this. Is it us as the audience, the players, or perhaps Kavecca? Eighteen is the beginning of the time they spend in Ephemera, and at the beginning of the episode Krystal has an encounter with someone in the Gallspire. This adds on to the commentary in 16 and implies that there is something bigger at play...

Episode 20 presents us with a poem of sorts:

Ever faster, ever closer, ever never slowing down… Ever nearer, ever clearer, ever nipping at the gown... Ever spinning, ever grinning, ever hearing what they please. Ever growing, ever knowing, that they are the disease…

There is no direct indication of what this is talking about, but I think it's about Dentonic. They never slow down, they don't know when to stop dreaming! They will warp whatever they must to fit their narrative and they don't care what the casualties are.

When the Weaver makes his entrance into the world of Steeplechase, at the end of 20 and speaking through Geltfrimpen, these occurences get more frequent:

"Oh, I… I’m mostly… mostly… with them now… [chuckles] ah… ah… smaller than I… assumed…" [21] "Mostly… echoes… yet to be… I’m sorry, I know that doesn’t… answer your question…" [23] "Yes… yes, I was surprised too, Shookles. What? Oh… Oh, they didn’t hear…"[25]

25 ends with Gravel being arrested for Sticky Finger Paul Pantry's murder. 26 opens with, "…yes, but I’d assumed it was… consigned to legend! I never would’ve expected- i guess… my understanding is not… what I’d thought it was. Terrifying, in a way, but also… quite wonderful." I can't even begin to parse what he's talking about.

Then of course, there is 27: "No, no, not to the boat... Only one... one node per layer... I tried to maintain hopping... but it’s too taxing... too many...noises..." What fucking boat? And he tries to hop between layers- maybe the nodes are in the things he is inhabiting. Geltfrimpen, the arcade box, hard doug, eustace... The arcade machine and Geltfrimpen aren't made of hardlight, and these are the methods through which he has actually been able to speak (he could only see through hardlight)... maybe these are the "nodes?" I wonder what the noises refer to.

When things start looking down for the crew as they try to piece together what the fuck is happening, The Nanofather opens episode 28 with, "I’m not sure yet… I’m hopeful… Ah, Shookles… optimistic…or perhaps… perhaps optimism is just the last refuge of those… with nothing left to lose..." The Nanofather is referring to himself in this line, and the fact that he considers himself to have "nothing left to lose" implies that he has a strong connection to the events in Steeplechase, particularly to the crew-- which makes sense given their previous interactions. But what is at stake for him is unclear.

In episode 30 he says, "The thought had crossed my mind… But it can’t be long now…" I must say this is particularly ominous because I have no idea what the "thought" is or what he is waiting for. His salvation?

Finally, we have episode 31. His last appearance.

"It feels… like something… has frayed…"

In this episode, Kenchal Denton speaks to the crew a lot about cutting loose ends. And then he drops them out of a hovercraft into a desert that seems to be entirely disconnected from the electrical grid Steeplechase is on. And we don't hear from The Nanofather again.

7. Ties to Clint McElroy. [the ways in which this comes back to him.]

[post-discussion following the moment in episode 10 when the nanofather asks, "do you hear me Travis?"] Travis: Is that guy my real dad? Justin: You wish Griffin: Legally, you have to tell Travis, if the muckdweller is his real dad Justin: Not the muck dweller. The nanofather. Please- Travis: Oh, it's right there in the name! I should have seen it a mile away it's so obvious now!

Now, this may be a stretch. And it started out to me as a joke, but guys. The further I get the further I am convinced. The Nanofather is connected to, if not is, Clint McElroy the Planeswalking Janitor.

Evidence A: He calls them "children" when he goes to tell them stories. Counterpoint: Clint can't be his own son. Counter-counterpoint: Clint's full name, according to Griffin on an episode of Wonderful, is Clinton Emil McElroy Jr. Meaning, he has a father named Clint.

Evidence B: When the Nanofather refers to Travis, Clinton, and Gribby, Justin later describes them as "these new characters," in the same way he insists that Clint McElroy his father and Clint McElroy the Planeswalking Janitor are separate things [Spiritbreakers Live in San Jose].

Evidence C: The Nanofather hops between layers, in a similar way to how Clint hops between planes. And the Nanofather seems to be fractured, scattered, not his whole self. He is powerful but weak. He is able to speak to players, characters, and potentially the audience? It transcends the boundaries between the two worlds...

Evidence D: Justin is a big fan of the TAZiverse. He has shown this multiple times but the ones I remember most are of course, when he introduces "Taako from Television" in Ephemera (and other Balance things, implies it was a legend passed down, etc), and when Griffin introduced that he would be playing Indrid in Dust 2. Like of fuckin course he'd be excited to bring things together more in small ways.

Evidence E: There has been increased Clint McElroy the Planeswalking Janitor activity, the most since before Ethersea. In April, Justin played the character Clint McElroy the Planeswalking Janitor in a liveshow in San Jose (I was there hi!!!), which had initially been planned for November but was rescheduled. Both of these, though, fall under the time in which Steeplechase was active, so he was thinking about this character during that time. Additionally, the merch of the month for August is a sticker of Planeswalking Janitor Clint McElroy. And he was mentioned in Steeplechase Episode 26, when there was debate over whether something was said by Emerich or his player.

Travis: I think that was Dad. Justin: Oh. Well, I mean... yeah, I guess dad could be in it too, Trav. Is that what you’re saying? Travis: No, I’m just saying, I think Dad was making the observation— Clint: Oh my God! Is this an appearance by Clint McElroy, the planes-walking janitor? Griffin: No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Clint: Okay— Travis: No, no, not yet. Justin: No, we can’t, we can’t. Travis: Don’t force it, don’t force it.

Evidence F: I didn't expect to find this one. Honestly I think it shows that I have gone too far as a person. But... guys this one drives me crazy. So. We meet Shoockles in Episode 4, when The Nanofather introduces him as "Cat bart... he's my cat. Bart Shoockles." And guys I was like haha that's funny there is no way this is related... But then I was on Clint's Instagram trying to figure out if maybe he had a cat, since I know Justin has one. And I came across a photo he took of a white dog, which I wasn't sure was his until I got confirmation from an old post on one of the boys' Instagrams. But... in the caption of the post with his dog, he calls him Homer. Clint McElroy has a dog named Homer. Let me just, direct you to the Simpsons family tree:

Finally, Evidence G: Justin would go really far for a bit. He likes to have fun and get silly with his family and he knows Clint would get a huge laugh out of this. And he would also do anything to get a good age joke on his dad.

8. Conclusion [how it all comes together]

The moment you've been waiting for. What does it all mean?

The Nanofather seems to play no real importance to the main plot in Steeplechase at this point, but he has huge potential to. More importantly, looking at the Nanofather gives us some insight into the state of the park and where the player characters find themselves. He works as both a narrative framing device and as a part of the story. He talks to the players, the characters, and the audience, truly bringing a special flavor to Steeplechase.

With everything we've seen and heard, there is sufficient evidence to say that the Nanofather lives within the walls of the park, travelling using its energy grid. He has only been able to manifest to the characters through the electronics and hardlight creations. When they arrived in Kidadelphia in episode 32, it was apparent they were not connected to the same electrical grid, and there was no hardlight. The fact that he was completely silent in both 32 and 33 supports this theory, because there would be no way for him to communicate with them. Either that or they were too late and he died.

He has found himself in a wasteland, with weather and times that are controlled electronically. He is scattered, does not have a name-- a shell of who he once was. If the Carmine Denton Nanofather theory were correct, this would be a beautiful picture: the guy who created a way for others to escape is trapped in the destruction that his creation wrought... Regardless, I am concerned for his wellbeing since it seemed like he was in a hurry.

The interactions between the Nanofather and the heist crew imply that there could be a larger plot with him, but I don't know how close that is to happening. The Nanofather is one complicated guy, and if they want to save him I... guess they'll have to never know when to stop dreaming.

Thank you for coming along with me on this long and gruesome ride. I started this way back after episode 30 aired, I think. It's been simmering for a month, my own personal stew of sorts... For those of you who have helped contribute to my madness, thank you, and to those who have watched in horror, I'm sorry. It's been a real one.

And now, to send you off, I present to you this excerpt from Episode 10:

Justin: Our friend and employee Jupiter is kind enough to help pull together recaps of this dumb stuff, but Jupiter, showing a lot of wisdom here, does not track the story of the nanofather […] Travis: I think they realize it's been so clear cut at this point that any child could keep track of all the nanofather/muckdweller lore.

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the-chickenshit-oddity · 2 years

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All the ships

Song goes 'I'm here fighting all your fake fears' (more or less)

A was attacked with poison/magic/something and is now hallucinating a long series of scary things. Lucky for them, B's a master at the game of Pretend and just improvises solutions to put a happy spin on all the terrifying scenarios in A's mind.

Bonus Points if B got their Pretend-playing expertise by playing with baby siblings, nephews/nieces, kindergarten students...you get the gist.

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louisupdates · 17 hours

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[Translated from Spanish to English]

British singer-songwriter Louis Tomlinson is ready for his first performance in Panama, on May 2 at the Amador Convention Center and for after the show he requested a margarita pizza and another combination of meats (pepperoni, chicken and chorizo).

In addition, among his requests he highlights that he does not want any food with peas, he prefers tomato paste with and without chicken or beef lasagna.

For the dressing room, the interpreter of "Bigger than me" asked for vodka, energy drinks, sodas, black tea, coffee, milk, chocolate bars, assorted cereals, a package of ibuprofen and paracetamol, among other items, available.

The former member of the band One Direction brings to the country his "Faith in The Future World Tour", a tour with which he has toured Europe and the United States and whose name comes from his second studio album, released in November 2022.

From Magic Dreams, the company that organizes the show, they confirm that Némula will be presented in Panama, the electro pop singer who stands out for his distinctive sound and perceptual aesthetic, merging organic instruments with electronic music.

In addition, the organizers of the Louis Tomlinson show assured that there are still tickets available at www.panatickets.com.

#tour riders #louis tomlinson #fitfwt24: panama #29.4.2024

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leelei1980 · 2 months

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Loving Mr.Munson- Extra

A fun little extra based on this Ask:

I wanna have a massage night with older!eddie and feel his mechanic hands alllll over me 💦💦

He's a magic man, and he's got magic hands

🛑 MATURE CONTENT - SMUT WARNING- 18+ MINORS DNI 🛑

You saw the light on your work voicemail blinking. Please don't let it be another work related issue, this week had already been absolutely horrendous. You looked at the clock on the wall in your office, three hours till quitting time, then it was the weekend and it couldn't come fast enough.

You sighed and checked your messages, first message, work related but something that could be put off till Monday, thank God. You pressed the button to hear the next message,

" Hey Darlin," Your heart melted at the sound of his voice." Just wanted to let you know I'm picking up dinner on my way home tonight. I know you've had a shit week, but I promise I'm about to make it all better. I've got plans for you Sweetheart. Hope the rest of your day flies by, can't wait to see you when you get home. Love ya baby, bye."

You sighed. You were the luckiest woman on the planet. You thanked God every day for this man, for the strange twist of fate that brought you two together. This past year had been a whirlwind, a crazy tornado of change- a new man, new friendships, happiness that you had never imagined possible and love,so much love. And you can't leave out the incredible sex. Eddie Munson was the man of your dreams, and he just so happened to also be your husband.

You were busy the rest of the day, which was fine because it made the last couple of hours fly by, and before you know it it was time to leave.

You rushed home , eager to see what your amazing man had in store for you. You had barely made it up the stairs when the door opened and you were swept inside. It didn't matter that it had only been hours since the last time Eddie had seen you, every day you got home you were greeted like it had been aged since the last time he saw you. Arm encircled your waist, pulling you close, full plush lips on yours, then a bit of Eddie nuzzling into your neck, trailing light kisses and breathing in your scent. This was your favorite part of the day, the part that made all of your worries and days troubles disappear. On the off chance that you were the first one home you would listen for him to pull in then run and jump into his arms . Your life was like a cheesy Hallmark movie, and you loved it.

" Hey Babygirl, how was your day?" Eddie tilted your chin up lightly with his finger and kissed the tip of your nose.

" Much better now that I am here with you." You smiled up at him. He was so goddamn beautiful.

" Well I have a nice relaxing night planned for us Princess, " you felt his hands wander down to your ass, giving it a squeeze." Starting with dinner and some wine, a little dessert -"

" Are you my dessert?" You smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He smiled." I can be, but I did actually get dessert. I picked up a cheesecake-"

" You got me a cheesecake? Baby, your the fucking best! How did you know I needed a cheesecake?"

" It's my wifey sense, you know like a sixth sense. I can just feel it-"

You laughed." You know me better than I know myself Baby ."

" I know you inside and out." He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "I got us a lovely red wine to go with our pepperoni pizza," He motioned to the table that he had set, wine bottle open, pizza box, napkins and a candle lit in the center."Let's go eat darling, get fucking wine tipsy and then retire into the bedroom. "

" That sounds like a wonderful plan." You hugged him tight." Thank you Eddie. Thank you for knowing exactly what I needed."

" That's my job Doll. " He kissed your lips. "Come on Sweet cheeks, let's eat and then we can move on to the more intimate portion of the night." He winked at you.

" Oohhh, I like the sounds of that."

The two of you sat and ate your pizza by candlelight, polished off the bottle of wine and were feeling sufficiently silly when Eddie picked you up in his arms and carried you into the bedroom.

He tossed you on the bed where you bounced and giggled when he tackled you, undressing you and attacking you with kisses. You laughed and your heart felt light in a way that only Eddie was capable of making you feel.

" Now Darlin, are you ready for Eddie Munson's magic fingers?" He rolled you onto your tummy and straddled the backs of your legs.

" I'm pretty sure I have been at the mercy of your magical fingers Sir."

" Yes well, this is different. Are you ready to be whisked away into a realm of pleasure and relaxation?"

" I was born ready Munson." You rested your head on your pillow and felt Eddie reached up and sweep your hair into a ponytail. Jesus, he was so thoughtful.

You sighed as you felt him reach for a bottle of lotion on your nightstand, lightly kiss your neck, shoulders and back before sitting back on his heels. Moments later you smelled the calming scent of lavender. You were half expecting to feel a cold squirt of lotion on your back but was pleasantly surprised when he squirted it into his hands first to warm it up.

He started with your neck and shoulders, "Your so fucking tight Sugar. This must be where you carry your stress. I'm going to use a little more pressure 'kay, let me know if it is too much." He leaned in a little more.

You groaned, "S'perfect."

You could feel the heat radiating off of his mostly naked body as he leaned over you , slowly working his way down, and it felt like absolute heaven. His strong, rough hands were gentle as he worked into all the muscles and knots, his talented hands gliding over your skin, and you could feel your body melting into your mattress.

" Mmmmmm, Baby, that feels amazing."

" You like that Angel? Let me know if you want it a little harder-"

" Mmmhmmm, please..." You could barely even manage words at the moment, hell, you hoped you weren't drooling.

" Your so fucking soft, " he circled his thumbs along either side of your spine working his way down to your lower back.

"Awwww, yes Eddie-"

" Sweetheart, your making me fucking hard with all those pretty little noises your making."

He wasn't kidding, you could feel his erection against your ass .

" I can't help it when it feels so fucking good, your fucking hands, magic," you whispered.

You could hear him groan. Your poor, sweet man was getting aroused just by rubbing lotion on you. You felt his hands grab your hips, felt him lightly rutting up against you. You pressed back into him.

" Fuck, you got me all wound up." He squeezed your ass, kneaded it, you moaned.

" See that is exactly what I mean. Goddamn it Princess, your so fucking hot, " He leaned down across your body to your ear." See what you do to me baby, you turn me into a fucking pathetic high school kid that can't help but fucking grind into you halfway into a full body massage because your side boob and soft skin are sending me over the fucking edge."

You smiled to yourself, looking over your shoulder. "There is nothing sexier than your spouse being so aroused simply by touching you that he could blow his load. That to me is romantic."

Eddie buried his face in your neck, drawing in a deep breath of your lavender scented skin, kissing your neck and shoulders ."I'm glad you find it endearing ." He sat back on his heels, "Sorry for the brief intermission, where were we?"

" Uh, I think you were about to fuck me."

" I don't think we were quite there yet, I haven't even started on the front-"

" I'm fucking there Baby. Feeling your big strong hands all over my body, gliding around, I'm so ready. If you don't believe me...."

You felt his hand slide from your ass down between your legs, you purred as he ran his fingers through your slit."Jesus Christ, your fucking soaked."

" All because of you baby." You slowly pushed yourself up on your hands and knees, body so relaxed it felt like putty. You looked over your shoulder and bit your lip. " I'm ready for the more intimate part of tonight and I know that you are too. "

He quickly tore his boxers off. " Prettiest sight I've ever seen Darlin."

You dipped your back down and stuck your ass further in the air, stretching like a cat, you looked over your shoulder again and saw him smile.

He grabbed your hips." Is this how you want me Kitten?"

You nodded. " I want to feel you deep inside me."

He sat up higher on his knees, stroked himself a couple of times, his manhood still rock hard." I will take real good care of you Babygirl."

" I know you will baby ."

He ran the head of his cock through your slippery folds, teasing your clit, your body humming, then slowly, he entered you.

" Fuck, baby-" you groaned as he bottomed out. You felt so full of him from this angle." Oh God Eddie."

"I know Doll." He slowly withdrew than plunged back in." Fuuuuck, Sweetheart."

He started off slow, slowly dragging his cock in and out of you, lazily rolling his hips, making you moan, it felt so fucking good." More baby, please-"

You felt his grip on your hips tighten as he pistoned into you, his body slamming into yours.

" Jesus Christ, sweet pussy taking me so well Darlin, your so fucking good for me baby, so good."

You whimpered as he pounded ,"Eddie," You felt a strong arm slide under your stomach, carefully he pulled your body up so that your back was flush with his chest. He braced himself with one leg on the floor and thrusted up into you. You gasped as he hit the sensitive spot inside you.

He leaned into your ear, his hand slipping from your waist to in-between your legs, where he circled the little bud there. You moaned ." Is that the spot Angel? Is that the spot that is going to make you fall apart? " He thrusted again.

" I'm so close," You slid your hand along your skin to your breast, pinching your nipple, fondling it. Eddie growled.

All of the sensations were incredible and overwhelming, the fullness, the closeness of his hard body to yours, and the intimacy of it all. You felt the familiar wave of pleasure slam into you, making your body buckle then go limp, and he held you through it all.

" Don't worry my Love, I've got you." He fucked you through your orgasm, than moments later his own. You felt his heart beating against your back, his ragged breaths on your neck.

" Incredible, absolutely fucking incredible." He said as he lightly dragged his teeth across your shoulder, then leaned his forehead against you.

" Every. Single. Fucking. Time Eddie, You blow me away."

He kissed your neck than your cheek. " It's my sixth sense, I'm telling you Dollface."

You laughed. " That's got to be it." You sighed. "Holy shit Baby, between the massage and that incredible fuck, I feel like I'm a limp noodle. I feel like I could sleep for days."

Eddie carefully laid you down in the bed than covered you up, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead. He pulled up his boxers." You can't go to bed just yet, Sweet Girl, I still have plans for you."

" I don't know if I can handle anything else, you've turned my body to jelly Munson."

He smirked." Uh, your welcome. Don't worry Kitty, I promise you can handle this." He kissed you again than quickly ran out of the room.

You stretched, and smiled. This is exactly what you had needed. You were relaxed and loose and extremely satisfied. There wasn't anything that could make this night better-

" Dessert! We couldn't forget dessert!" He walked in carrying two small plates of cheesecake grinning from ear to ear.

You smiled." I see you brought us each a plate, smart man, I get awfully possessive of my cheesecake."

" Trust me, I know better." He handed you a plate than sat beside you in bed. He cut off a hunk , picked it up and fed it to you.

" Your so romantic." You beamed .

" Nah, I'm just a guy that's head over heels in love with his wife. Eat up Sweetcheeks,we got to refuel, I still have the whole front side of you to massage, and with those perfect tits, we could be here for hours . I have a feeling that we will run into a similar situation as last time."

You threw your head back and laughed." We'll be running on nothing but love and cheesecake till we are totally spent. "

" Sounds like a perfectly good Friday night to me."

As always thank you for reading ❤️ Comments and re-blogs are always welcome ❤️

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