Excuse Me Wtf?!

Geralt can admit that it isn’t his greatest escape plan. But being pushed back towards the waterfall, there are few other options for him and Jaskier to escape alive.

Rocks tumble over the side into the rushing white waters. Geralt sneers at the edge. He should have known what the angry mob was doing. Should have guessed it. Stupid. And now, Jaskier and himself are standing at the world’s edge with no where to go.

No where to go, but down.

Geralt looks towards the trees, can already see the crowd of 30 gaining on them.

“Geralt, think of something, will you!” Jaskier’s voice is a shrill thing in his ears. But the  is a cover. Fear wafts off of him, though less so than an average human.

It is this reason that he grabs hold of the bard and throws the both of them over the cliff.

Falling from this height is more terrifying than Geralt anticipated. There’s hardly any control he can take. Jaskier is screaming beside him. It lasts a moment, barely an instant, before they plunge into the icy cold water.

The world around him spins. There is no sense of direction. No up or down. His only tether is to Jaskier, whom he refuses to let go of. He will not lose him in the rush of the river.

It’s a fight to the surface, with his armor and his friend, but there have been more difficult battles. The next problem is swimming to the damn shore, but the rocks are slippery and Jaskier refuses to help. Though, he may be in shock.

He’ll deal with that later.

Finally, he pulls them both ashore. Geralt gasps for air, more out of panic than anything else. For a moment, all he can do is lay on his back and look at the sky. His gaze shifts from the bright blue of it to the top of the cliff. There are no signs on the angry crowd. He can’t properly hear them with the rushing water. Even if they were to come after himself and Jaskier, they will have plenty of time to make their escape.

“Jaskier,” Geralt calls out. They should dry off. Get going. Figure out a plan on how to get their belongings back. He turns his head to the side, waiting for the oncoming flood of complaints.

Silence.

“Jaskier.” He sits up, discomfort and discombobulation forgotten. Silence rings in his ears. The bard is always making noise. Singing, humming, tapping. His heart beating. But now, his lungs are quiet in the orchestra that makes up Jaskier.

Geralt scrambles over to Jaskier’s side and turns him over. His head lolls. But he’s still alive. His heartbeat, weak as it is, is still thumping. There’s still time to fix this. Panic, alien and intrusive, has to be pushed down and away.

There’s a trick Geralt learned many years ago in Skellige. Something about… pulling the water from someone’s lungs. He’s never had the use for it before now. Tries to remember all of the specifics.

He tilts back Jaskier’s head, pries open his mouth, pinches his nose, and then leans down to breathe air into his lungs.

Geralt can see from the corner of his eye Jaskier’s chest rise and fall with each breath. Does that mean it’s working? He continues regardless. (This can’t be the end.) Almost dizzy from lack of oxygen on his own, Geralt raises his head and takes a deep breath before returning to Jaskier.

It’s with this shared air that Jaskier finally sputters to life, turning to his side and expelling river water. He coughs violently, his voice rasping. Relief floods Geralt. He is going to have to thank Crach an Craite one of these days.

He’ll have to visit Skellige again. (Go to the coast?)

Now that Jaskier is okay, Geralt has little idea what to do with his hands. He places one on Jaskier’s shoulder. Runs his thumb back and forth in what he hopes to be a comforting motion. “Jaskier?”

Jaskier rolls onto his back and closes his eyes. Taps his fingers against his chest. Breathes. Then, “Did- did I-” Another cough. “Did I imagine things… or did you just kiss me back to life?”

Geralt removes his hand from Jaskier’s shoulder and frowns. “That is not what happened.”

Jaskier, the bastard, opens a single eye. Shining with mischief. Geralt wants to wipe that smirk off of his face. “So you didn’t put your mouth on my mouth?”

“That’s not how that works.”

“True love’s kiss, what a beautiful thing!”

“Jaskier.” Geralt looks away, unable to withstand the joy Jaskier is exuding. “We have to go.”

“Truly, Geralt, I wasn’t sure you had it in you. And here we are! Me, alive and… well, not kicking yet. You may have to carry me. Or, oh! Why not kiss me again? If one kiss brings me back from the brink of death, surely-”

“Jaskier-” This is neither the time or place to talk of… such things. He takes a deep breath in slowly. “Just. Shut the fuck up.”

-

more geraskier

I did not knew I needed this but I definitely did. I’m such a whore for the way Ari is described 😭

How do they kiss you to break your last line of defence?

Andy Barber

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Steve Rogers

Ah, I see you woke up this morning and chose violence 😡 Hahaha I looove this ask! I’d happily sell my soul to smooch any one of these babes. Or all of them. At once. 🫠 Okay, now I’m distracting myself lol. Let’s seeee…

Andy is gonna do that thing where he gently—carefully—cups your face between his big hands. He’s gonna duck close so his eyes can lock on yours and you can’t escape his intense, penetrating gaze. So you can see his desire for you shining from those baby blues of his. He’s gonna move slow, too, not only to draw it out and give you a chance to really resist if this isn’t what you want, but because there’s something about the anticipation. He wants to hear your breath catch. He wants to see the surrender in your eyes just before they close as his lips touch yours. His mouth on yours is somehow soft and frantic at once. You can tell he’s trying to rein himself in but as soon as a soft whimper bubbles up from the back of your throat and you’re clutching at his sides, it’s game over, sis, and he switches to devour mode 😮‍💨🤌🏻

Ransom’s move will be a tiny bit similar to Andy’s in that he’s cradling your face in his hands, but it’s nowhere as soft. He’s propelling you back into the closest wall, eyes twinkling at your quiet “oof.” His hands hold you tight because he’s not gonna give you that chance to escape. You’re his and this is happening, and he’ll make sure you like it, that you beg for more. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna throw in a, “You’re mine,” just before his lips close in on yours, and then he’s gonna kiss you fiercely, kiss you breathless, kiss you until your knees are buckling and you’re finally giving him that whimper as he licks his way into your mouth and makes sure his flavor is staining your tongue for a good, long while 😏

Ari is gonna use his considerable size difference compared to you to his advantage. He wants you to be hyper aware of him but at the same time, he’ll have the softest touch ever. Backing you into a piece of furniture and pinning you there. He’s quiet, which is a rarity for him, and emphasizes the intensity of the moment. He keeps his movements slow as he raises a hand to your throat. He doesn’t grip it though, instead he gently drags his knuckles down the smooth column, lips quirking just a bit when you shudder in response. Before you’ve full recovered from that solitary touch, his thumb is brushing along your lower lip, his hungry gaze fixed on your mouth, and then he’s gonna lift his eyes to yours and maintain eye contact as he slooowly closes in until his lips touch yours. That’s when he finally makes a sound, a relieved groan, the kind of deep, carnal sound that makes your pussy clench, and before you know it, you’re kissing him back just as urgently.

Steve is gonna pounce on you in a moment of feral passion. He’s done talking about why this is a bad idea, especially when the thought of it feels so right. He’s gonna sweep you up against him, one thick arm locking around your back as his other massive hand cradles the back of your head and keeps you in place for a thorough devouring. The kiss starts hard, but when you mewl into his mouth and cling to his shoulders—give into him—he slows it down, his touch growing softer at your surrender as he hums against your lips and deepens the kiss until you’re melting into his embrace and proving what he knew all along - you were meant to be his.

(Thank you for cumming to my horny TED talk 😅)

ok but the hunger games literally did mention it All like… the use of propaganda by the elite as an attempt to divide the minority groups they oppress by making them perceive each other as rivals and prevent them from recognizing and uniting against their real enemy? check. criticism of the way we consume media with no consideration for other people’s privacy like we’re entitled to every detail of their lives and a lack of empathy for their pain because it makes good entertainment? yeah. realistic depictions and explorations of the effects of trauma, particularly that caused by conflict? hunger games has you covered. acknowledgement of the existence of and links between racism and classism, and that conventional standards of beauty are influenced by the societal elite, which people are encouraged to harm themselves in order to conform to (the fact that the weathier people in district 12 are white, blonde and blue-eyed while the coal miner families are mostly people of color; that the two poorest districts, 11 and 12, have majority poc populations; that most people, katniss herself included, consider prim to be prettier than katniss partly because she looks like her white, blonde, blue-eyed mother, who was from the wealthier part of the district; that the first thing that happens to the tributes when they’re taken to the capitol is they they’re “prepped” to conform to capitol beauty standards before they even meet their stylists in ways that literally violate their bodies permanently, and that many of the capitol residents have extreme body modifying surgery that can take a severe toll on their health and wellbeing in the long term)? none of this is accidental, and is both brought up and criticised multiple times throughout the trilogy. the sexualization of minors for adult consumption, especially young celebrities? the fact that politicians in positions of power and authority gain those positions through corruption and by considering anyone harmed in their acension collateral damage? the significance of propaganda and social influence in modern warfare? the misery caused by poverty, which is caused and intentionally maintained by the wealthy elite? the brutal and violating experience of living in a surveillance police state, especially as a member of a minority group and/or poor person? the inherently immoral and corruptive nature of warfare and the military and the unimaginable atrocities and suffering it leads to for ordinary civilians? every YA dystopia novelist tried so hard to be mrs collins but most didn’t even understand half of what went into her books that made them so compelling.

Congrats hun! Captain America would be proud of y'all!

Also how about 'monster cock' with Steve? I know I have no class😶😶

Monster Cock

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Summary: It was big, and you couldn’t stop staring.

Warning: Explicit language. Sexual themes. 18+

Teaser

“Jesus,” you squeaked, unable to look away from the monster cock before you.

Steve could feel his blush heating up his chest and face, even his ears were burning.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered, not quite sure what to say. “I uh, well, you know how I am with these things.”

You blinked owlishly, finally pulling your gaze from the big screen TV that was playing some ridiculous monster cock porn. You glanced over at Steve, smiling as he held our three different remotes for you.

“I don’t understand why there’s so many for one device.”

You giggled, picking the main remote and quickly shutting off the porn.

Steve actually sagged in relief when you fiddled with the buttons and CNN lit up the screen.

“I wasn’t watching that, by the way,” he gestured faintly toward the TV. “It just started playing when I was making my smoothie.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the communal kitchen.

You glanced between the kitchen and the TV, then to the little red light that indicated one of Tony’s many easy to miss surveillance slash Jarvis devices.

“I have an idea what happened,” you muttered. “I think Tony was messing with you.”

“When isn’t he?” Steve rolled his eyes before moving back toward the kitchen.

Feeling mischievous, you tagged along, leaning against the counter across from him. You watched as Steve grabbed a handful of kale from the big bag on the counter as he went about finishing his smoothie.

As nonchalantly as possible, you asked, “So was that your first time seeing a monster cock? Or do you see one every morning when you shower?”

You giggled as Steve completely missed the blender and dropped his handful of kale on the floor.

Happy: “Kid–,”

Peter, looking absolutely betrayed: “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Happy: “I didn’t mean to lie to you, I swear. I thought you knew.”

Peter, dramatic as hell: “Five years.”

Happy: “Peter–,”

Peter: “I spent five years believing that your god-given name was Happy Hogan.”

Happy: “—I’ll buy you ice cream or something, anything, just please don’t cry—,”

Peter, already tearing up: “I don’t even know who you are anymore, Harold.”

If I need to say this I'm probably not

type “i am” in the tags and whatever comes up first is your new mandatory kin