#✧ ... poundcake writing

[poundcakecrm]

Ichigo noticing it one random evening, when their sore bodies are still sewing themselves back together in the healing springs and the false sun of Urahara Shoten is still 'hanging' yellow and golden in the sky (just why the shopkeep decided it was necessary to install the dawn and death of each new day with the actual planetary orbit was beyond him, but hey, at least it was a mere oddity and not a threat this time).

His hands are exploring chiseled muscle that seems to never tire, and pale skin that never tans, taking advantage of the fact that he'd kicked Grimmjow's ass hard enough that the Arrancar doesn't throw him halfway across the room on the spot. Ichigo figures he has about five more minutes soaking in the springs before that happens, and so he makes dutiful use of his time. His fingers just barely graze as they move, down from the nape of the other's neck where blue hair lays plastered, and ghost over bruised shoulders before heading down his torso.

Grimmjow watches, silent, both arms propped lazily over the edge of the pools but his eyes are still as sharp as they'd been during their actual sparring match. They watch every movement with frightening focus, and Ichigo doesn't miss the way his fingers twitch every so often; but he doesn't stop him. They've seen too much and touched too much by now for that, this is skin carrying the memory of years of friendly sparring now, not just battles. But Ichigo still treads carefully, as always; just as watchful, as always.

That is how he notices it for the first time, the way blue eyes suddenly narrow to mere slits when his hands cross over the scarred tissue carving down Grimmjow's chest, so fast it was like a flash bomb had gone off. It's an entirely silent reaction, followed yet another subtle twitch of the Arrancar's hands, but even that is enough to make Ichigo pause almost instantly - because Grimmjow doesn't react, not to touch. Not to the featherlight human-level touch Ichigo uses even outside his body whenever they aren't crossing blades. He's mapped out an impressive amount of the former Espada's skin by now, with rough holds and lazy caresses, and Grimmjow bats an eye to none of it. It's the hierro, Ichigo had eventually figured out. Also spite no doubt, and battleworn experience, and stubbornness; but mostly the hierro. Ichigo was pretty sure he could smack a mace across the fucker's back and it wouldn't do anything but put the Arrancar in a sour mood.

Grimmjow never reacted because Grimmjow didn't feel touch half the time. Until now. Until blue eyes narrow so quick it can be nothing but a reaction. Ichigo doesn't comment, but he stares with fiery curiosity and Grimmjow doesn't comment, but he glares with cold warning that he'd better not.

So he doesn't. Ichigo remains silent even when his hands begin moving again, this time tracing the path from the other's neck all the way across his chest, his abdomen, down to dip of his hips. Grimmjow's hands twitch a few more times, droplets of healing water lazily dripping off onto the rocks; but the Arrancar does an impressive job of keeping absolutely still and silent until Ichigo's hands are satisfied with their discovery.

There's no hierro. Or at least, practically none, not anywhere where the skin has turned dark and rough from natural scarring. Anywhere his Getsuga Tensho or Nnoitra Gilga's zanpakuto had touched had devoured the layer of protection like acid, leaving nothing but mere flesh in its wake. It was a crack in the shield, a gaping seam in the system, and it was everywhere it was most vital. And he'd left it. "Left it" being the proper, consciously-chosen wording because it'd been long enough that Inoue actually baked Grimmjow his own set of cookies around the holidays even if the Arrancar never ate them, and had even offered to force Ishida into knitting him a stocking once. And even before, back when their interactions were far from pleasant, Grimmjow had made Inoue heal his Sexta Espada tattoo once. She could heal anything, reverse any damage. Grimmjow could have had the scar, his hierro, healed at any time over the span of years by now.

But he hadn't, and Ichigo's curious eyes just continue to ask "why" while Grimmjow's deadly glare just continues to warn "don't."

So he doesn't, not today anyway. His hands eventually draw back to him, and Yoruichi eventually speaks up from where her perverted-self is hiding amongst the rocks, and Grimmjow eventually launches himself from the springs shamelessly in the nude to gut her with his claws. Ichigo will stay sitting there in the water, shameful in the nude, and watch.

And he'll try not to wonder if his is the first real touch that's managed to slip past the Arrancar's defenses, ever since he'd slashed himself an opening all those years ago.

[enigmagp]

Poundcake and Circumstances is a story I’ve been working on for months, a modern fantasy setting, following a trio of adventurers in the world of Exicara, as they work to uncover a shadowy mastermind who guides their world to the brink of apocalypse after apocalypse, without letting their own lives fall apart in the process.

Serra Pyrreb, thirty-two, is a war demon of the nine hells, who spent her first adult years summoned to pointless conflicts by wannabe warlocks and middling masterminds. Quitting her job, Serra battled her way out of hell alongside Meiko, now Tatakai, her oldest friend. On the surface, she befriended other adventurers and fell in love with her girlfriend Seren Hart, a minor spirit with whom she now lives.

Warning! Very long design and backstory ramblings below the cut.

Serra is a demon, and her appearance reflects that, being a muscular woman of 7’3” with pure white skin, marked by scars. She has an absolutely massive pair of curved horns, while spines burst from her back down her spine to the sharp tip of a thick, powerful tail. She has deep black eyes with burning white pupils and long, curly, wild black hair. In her sides are a set of slit vents, three openings on either side that help her draw in more air.

Serra’s colors are white, paired with seafoam and pink. She wears a stolen and defaced military uniform, a seafoam overcoat cut above the midriff and worn open over a pink crop top, decorated by simple white epaulets (no tassels!) and a white fourragère on the right shoulder. She pairs them with matching seafoam pants with white stitching, a pair of white fingerless gloves and bare feet. On her left hip she carries a pair of oversized katana in pink wooden sheathes and white wrapped handles, she’s been trying to name them but consistently changes her mind. She also carries a pair of revolvers (based upon colt navy revolvers) in a pair of harness holsters under her overcoat.

Serra Pyrreb was born and raised in Hell. Hell, as it turns out, is not the best place to live, and Serra developed a skill for violence from a young age. Taking a job as a summonable minion at sixteen, Serra worked under various wannabe villains for the next six years.

Living in a cluttered apartment much too small for herself, Serra’s patience slowly wore thin, as her frequent summonings showed her more and more of a world she wanted to be a part of.

Donning a stolen military uniform, and spilling her own blood on a pair of equally stolen katana, the twenty-eight year old Serra imbued the blades with her own willpower and recruited her friend Meiko, then twenty-four, to reverse Dante’s Inferno out of Hell.

Their mission, taking the better part of seven months, was barely successful, and they split up not long after escaping. While Tatakai would go on to join Kaeru, a story for another time, Serra would make her way to New Diagory City, where she was quickly able to pick up odd jobs.

During this period, Serra, now twenty-nine, met Seren. The two grew to know each other and began a relationship, eventually moving in together when Seren realized Serra did not have a house.

Unwilling to let Seren manage the rent on her own, Serra found an ad by Autumn for a startup adventuring group, accepting the position. The crew quickly grew close and have run dozens of successful missions together.

Now, some three days before Serra’s thirty-third birthday, Autumn’s research has gotten them ahead of something big, a conspiracy to use the Knights of Unending End and awaken a Harbinger, prophesied to end the world. Time is running short, and the trio race against the clock to put this Harbinger down before it fulfills its role.

If you'd like to read Poundcake and Circumstances, it's available right here on Tumblr and over on Tapas.

[poundcake-and-circumstances]

-P&C Table of Contents-

Chapter 1 - The World Doesn’t End

Chapter 2 - A Brush With Disaster

[loulovingho]

Tommy never had a birthday cake growing up because his dad was against sweets in the house, so his mom would take him to a local bakery for a birthday cookie from ages 4-10. She died before he turned 11 but he walked himself to the bakery after school, got as far as the door, and couldn’t go inside. His dad wasn’t a fan of birthday celebrations at all, so there was nothing after that, then he joined the army, and the closest to a cake he got was an MRE vanilla poundcake with a match sticking out of it that one of his commanding officers gave him and, while it did make his heart swell a bit, he never got to eat it because they were alerted to an attack on base.

After the army he didn’t really care to celebrate his birthday at all, and he felt dumb buying himself a cake, so he never did. He bought cake for other occasions though, just because cake was delicious and it was like he could feel his dad getting angry every time he took a bite. He got a cake when he left the 118 and he smiled every time he opened his fridge and saw the leftovers. He even put some in his freezer and kept it there for a couple years because it actually meant so much to him.

And maybe he should’ve realized with dating Evan that he was definitely going to have a birthday cake, but the thought truly never crossed his mind until it was on the table in front of him. All their friends gathered around the table while he stared at this cake like there is no way it’s real. He doesn’t realize he’s been staring so long until they’ve finished singing happy birthday and the candles are still burning and Evan places a hand on his back and nervously asks if he’s okay.

He’s nervous because he made the cake himself and it was his first time making a chocolate/vanilla marble cake with buttercream frosting and he’s not great at writing on cakes or decorating so it looks a little funky but Tommy mumbles out mid Evan-rant that he’s never had a birthday cake before and the room falls silent.

There’s tears in his eyes when he turns and takes Evan’s head in his hands and pulls him in for a kiss. Tells him the cake is beautiful. No, it’s perfect, and asks if they can take some pictures before they eat it.

Evan nods, says of course, blinks his own tears away and says they have to put new candles on now cause the other ones already completely melted.

Howie yells for him to make a wish before he blows the candles out but he doesn’t even know what to wish for because for the first time in his life he feels like he has everything.

[kinq-sleazee]

ok ok , so i don’t want to write a full blown structured ficlet with all the bells and whistles so can we maybe just chat a bit about poly krbk tings?

E. Kirishima X K. Bakugo X Reader

TW! MDNI - Poly , Aged Up, poor writing, seggs

Imagine being best friends with KRBK and just inserting yourself into their lives as a sort of “platonic” third until it’s not really platonic anymore.

Like these two men love you and respect your friendship but the irrepressible attraction between the three of you is just getting too hard to ignore. Especially after a night out at the bar leads you back to their shared apartment.

And maybe the alcohol makes you a little bold and you make some silly little joke like , “let’s just fuck it out of our systems” but you soon quickly realize that you’re the only one laughing.

Between the two of them you never really stood a chance.

Katsuki holds your chin—thumb slowly pressing into your mouth while peering down at you with those fiery eyes. He looks bored almost. Only quirking a brow when you swallow around the digit and moan at the taste. Sweet. From his quirk , no doubt. He talks down to you. As if admonishing a pet. Calls you names. Whore. Slut. Claims that you’ve been planning this all along—secretly waiting for the day to choke on his cock. “That’s all you are. A hole”. At this point he’s pushed three fingers in your mouth. Slowly fucking into your throat while saliva runs down his arm. “I wish you could see yourself, cupcake. S’fucking pathetic how desperate you look”. You want him so bad right now. It’s embarrassing, so you can’t help the tear that falls. “Fuck— you cryin’ , cupcake? So damn cute. Want ya to cry sum more. Fuck that little kitty so hard… turn ya into a poundcake.

Eijiro is nicer than his lover, at least it seems that way at first. He holds you against his front, you can feel his erection pressing into your back. Kissing from the nape of your neck to your shoulder. Bite marks and bruises littering your skin. However, your focus is on the deft fingers skimming up your thighs , rising the fabric of your dress above your hips and running the pad of his finger over your clothed clit. You can feel him smile against your skin. He calls you beautiful. His angel. Perfection. All while fucking the fabric of your panties into your needy hole. “Think you were made for me, darling. Gonna feel so good wrapped around me. That’s what you want , yeah ? Wanna squeeze on daddy’s dick, baby girl ?”

It’s not nearly enough stimulation and you’re literally begging them for something. Anything. You need it at this point.

They oblige. Swiftly undressing you and positioning you in your hands and knees.

Eijiro rubs his meaty cockhead against your quivering hole. It’s big. Painfully so. You whine and attempt to move earning a sharp slap to your thigh. “Didn’t you ask for this, darling ? Why are you running ? Tryna disappoint me ?” And you’re overwhelmed. Chest heaving , eyes blurry and babbling apologies. The redhead hums in acknowledgment and pushes in fully with one powerful thrust.

Bakugo doesn’t really care to hear your cries so he shuts you up with his cock. With a hand buried in your hair he pistons in and out of your mouth, setting a brutal pace. He stops ever so often to let you breathe or spit in your mouth but then it’s right back to choking on his cock.

They use you for their pleasure this first time. Rutting into you carelessly, sloppily chasing their orgasms. Of course they make you cum— Eijiro rubbing your clit and Katsuki pinching your nipples — but it lacks finesse.

When the post-nut clarity settles their able to really tend to your needs. Katsuki settles between your legs, whispering sweet praises to your “pretty little pussy” then running the flat of his tongue through your cum coated folds. Eijiro joins him, drinking up his own spend while sucking on your pleasure point and massaging Bakugo’s tongue with his own.

You’re dead tired and sensitive when you cum again but much to your despair and pleasure these two are just getting started.

[historixally-accurate]

hi gold how does one get into mcsr

OH HELLO ANON! OH BOY DO I GOT SOMETHING TO TELL YOU.

for starters, thank you for taking your time to get into mcsr.. very small community I think, i havent been here long.. HOWEVER! I WILL DO MY BEST TO TELL YOU HOW I GOT INTO IT :] more under the cut.

mcsrblr PELASE do not pelt rocks at me, I am probably sure that there's better and different ways to get into mcsr.. I'm just giving my experience. thank u. godbless. yall are super nice. :')

first, I got introduced to mcsr because of a fanfic called dolorem, which is written by my good friend alyx vibesoda :]

you don't need to know all the characters and speedrunners in here, I walked into this fic COMPLETELY blind. however, if you want to do background check, this is where my second piece of advice comes in!!!

(ps, if you do read it, and if you do finish dolorem, there's a sequel fic alyx is writing on ao3 called iterum which you should read ONLY UNLESS YOU HAVE READ DOLOREM.)

second, recommended from a friend, a few mcsrs you can watch are couriway, feinberg or fulham for proper videos on mcsr or on Minecraft speedrunners.

(ps, WATCH COURIS HOUSE OF NIGHTMARES VIDEO. it was a great way for me to get into silverrruns and talkingmime :3)

for clips (which are a lot easier to find), I recommend the talkingmimefunny, silverrrunsfunny, feinbergfunny or feinberg rocks, vice president poundcake, hackingnoises funny, HBG highlights, HBG lowlights (tho there's only one video), or HBG clips.

if you have time for vods, theres feinberg's vod channel, couriway's vod channel, silverrruns' vod channel and respective twitch channels for most mcsrs, like talkingmime!

lastly, I heard the mcsr community on both tumblr and Twitter do NOT bite, and are extremely welcoming in terms of new fans. make a couple of friends i guess. lol. if you are a lifesteal watcher who may be interested in fein because of him being vip on lifesteal, read this post! and keep in mind that mcsr works kind of differently from lifesteal.

in conclusion, it's really all up to you to find out which speedrunners you really enjoy, whether it be by fics, clips, or videos. it's all exploration and finding friends who can recommend you their silly guys.

anyway rant over. big big mongey

[brownsugarwrites]

Poundcake.

✰ pairings: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x black!fem!reader

✰ warnings: none! fluff with a liddol bit of suggestive content. reader cooks soul food (no debate)

✰ a/n: this was soooooo yummy to write! I hope I can write more ghost in the future I love this man.

There was a click of the knob at the door. “He’s home, you thought, eyes coming away from the TV as you stood behind the stove.

Hearing the door perch open, you hear his heavy boots stepping into the house as the smell of pound cake infiltrates his nose.

“I'm guessing my princess is in the kitchen, right?”

“Hi, baby!!!” You greeted him gleefully before shuffling your feet towards him and hugging him. Firm arms wrapped around your thick waist, crushing you slightly.

“I missed you around here,” you told him, pouting as he gave you a light pat on your head.

“I missed ya too, sweetheart. Food smells divine,” he compliments

You blush a little as you give a little thanks, telling him you’d been cooking all day for him, waiting for him to get back

It was something you started to do for him about a year into actually living with each other, and now that you were engaged, it became a habit

“Well, I'm going to make me a plate-“ he started

Your face scrunched up in disgust. He knows you make him shower before he can eat.

“Simon…. I dont know why you come up in this house acting brand new. You know to get in the shower before you sit at the table,” you responded with attitude, popping your hip out.

“But sweetheart-“ he began

“But sweetheart, nothing. Get cleaned up and put your clothes in the laundry room. Your plate will be ready when you come downstairs.”

Huffing like a child, he took his bag and lugged himself up the stairs to get into his house clothes.

As you watched him go up the stairs, you quickly turned your attention back to the oven, opening it to take the cake out to let it cool.

While he showered, you set the tray tables and queued the TV to another episode of Real Housewives of Atlanta.

About a good hour later, you turned your head to the heavy footsteps that came down the stairs to meet you in the living room.

You watched as his shirt clung to his body, showcasing his physique. To you, he looked a little more...fluffy than usual. You noticed in his abdominal area he was losing some defintation. Which you found cute and a little sexy, knowing he could still probably fold you into a pretzel while fucking you.

"What do you want on your plate, big boy?" you asked playfully, a smile gracing your face.

His cheeks were turning pink as he told you he was okay to make his own plate.

"Si, you've been gone for four months. What makes you think I'm not going to make your first plate back?" you said, standing up and going to meet him where he was at

"tell me what you want," you said, looking up at him so innocently

What he wanted was to take you upstairs and have his face in your cunt till the sun rose until he heard his stomach growling.

"A little bit of everything is fine, princess," he told you, hands moving down your waist, effectively cupping your ass with his big hands.

Rolling your eyes, you pulled away from him, going to the kitchen to make you and his plate.

Coming into the living room with the warm, fragrant food, you sat it before him as he drooled over it.

"lemme get you something to drink, ok," you said before scurrying to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water and a pop.

Seeing that he had already started eating his food, you giggled as you watched him stuff his face full.

"Is it good?" you joked, plopping down next to him and giving him his drink.

"Spectacular," he managed to get out before taking another bite

Pressing play on the TV, the two of you watched Real Housewives as y'all ate. Once Simon was finished, he sat back on the couch, rubbing his stomach in content

"You're gonna make me fat with all this good cookin', princess." he laughed

"Good!" you smiled at him

Seeing his eyes get heavy, you knew the food was sitting in, and he was getting the itis.

"You want a piece of pound cake, big boy?" you asked, rubbing a hand up and down his arm.

"No, thank you, sweetheart." he simply stated before cuddling you on the couch. "Thank you for the food, my love. I'm happy to be home." 

[enretrogue]

𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 𝗙𝗜𝗖 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦

༝༚༝༚ = Black/POC Works ⎢ 24’ Fic Rec M.List

ATTACK ON TITAN:

Reiner Braun

Slut Me Out Mama — @wintrrxxo ༝༚༝༚

CALL OF DUTY: MW3:

Multi-Character

Throuples Shit with Alejandro thee Stallion and Rodolfo Parra — @lxvvie ༝༚༝༚

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Toxic Baby Daddy!Ghost⎢Part 1⎢Part 2⎢Part 3⎢Part 4⎢Part 5⎢Part 6⎢Part 7 — @kechiwrites ༝༚༝༚

Baby Daddy Ghost (Time Skip) — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Teasing — @babeyvenus ༝༚༝༚

Poundcake — @brownsugarwrites ༝༚༝༚

Older BF!Simon — @backwzzds ༝༚༝༚

Ghost and Nanami [ft. Kento Nanami] — @merakidoll ༝༚༝༚

Haunted Hearts — @berberriescorner ༝༚༝༚

Bitter and Sweet⎢ Stay at Home Dad!Simon — @theebussyqueensblog ༝༚༝༚

Ex Husband!Ghost — @utilityknif3 ༝༚༝༚

Roommates — @aforestescape ༝༚༝༚

Help and Care — @apricityxoxo ༝༚༝༚

Her — @crystlizabeth ༝༚༝༚

FORMULA ONE:

Lewis Hamilton

The Princess and the Race Car Driver⎢ Ch.1⎢ Ch.2⎢ Ch.3⎢ Ch.4 — @emjayewrites  ༝༚༝༚

Under His Influence⎢ Ch.1  — ^ ༝༚༝༚

Keys to the Kingdom — @saintslewis ༝༚༝༚

Dirty Diana — @laneywrld ༝༚༝༚

JUJUTSU KAISEN:

Multi-Character:

But You Still Lick the Wrapper — @nydascienceguy ༝༚༝༚

Touching You When You’re Mad — @goxjo

Fushiguro Toji

Toji Begging for Forgiveness — @iiiiiiis-things ༝༚༝༚

Toji Taking Your Ability to Walk — @wonderthor

When You First Showered at Toji’s Apartment — @makismei

“Baby- it’s too hot for this shit…”— @list4r

Gojo Satoru

Just In: Satoru Gojo Just Found Out He’s a Chubby Chaser Like the Rest — @salaciousdoll ༝༚༝༚

Ryomen Sukuna

Sweet Temptations — @suksatoru

A Gentle Madman — ^

Newborn Love — ^

Missed Marks — ^

Period Pains — ^

Mornings and Kisses — ^

How to Train Your Demon⎢ Part 1⎢ Part 2⎢ Part 3⎢ Part 4⎢ Part 5⎢ Part 6 — @minimomoe ༝༚༝༚

Freaky Ahh Old Man — @chososprettyprincess

RESIDENT EVIL:

Carlos Oliveira

Girl Dad!Carlos⎢ Part 2 — @wehaveimagineshere

Newlyweds — ^

Overstimulating Carlos — @thecherubangel

NSFW Alphabet — @bombsquad9

The Usual — @hotelstreets

Poker Face — @bitbugbites-re

Long Night? — @hellopeeeeps-blog

Touch — @acapelladitty

Don’t Play Dumb — @dean-samw67

Sweating Bullets: Werewolf!Carlos — @who-knew-a-sheep-can-write

PEAKY BLINDERS:

Alfie Solomons

The Wall Between Them — @hottpinkpenguin

“Ask me to stay” — ^

Head Over Heels — @wonderlanddreamer

Family Trust — @dyns33

Prompt Request — @murdockcastleslut

Run Away With Me Darling — @muneca-lemon-steppa

The Night Watch — @loulouwrites

[allureasdiary]

Hi darlings,

I'm @msallurea this is my secondary blog, I'm aiming to have my primary one strictly focused on manifestation. This blog I'm dedicating to all things girly and femininity. This is meant to help me be more organized since I don't want 1000+ things all in one blog it makes it a little fonfysing for me. The main things this blog will cover are:

🎀Beauty

🎀Femininity

🎀Womanhood/Sisterhood

🎀Girly content/My girly side

🎀Mood boards

🎀Fashion

🎀Makeup

🎀Self-Care

🎀Bimbo content

🎀Girly manifesting (mostly scripts)

🎀My personal femininity/dream girl journey

Though this blog is mainly for the girlies, in the near future I'm hoping guys can also feel attracted to my blog as well to learn ways to care for themselves as well. Anyways that's all I hope you all love this just as much as I do.

🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸

🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸💋🌸

Allurea's Profile

💋Zodiac: Virgo 🌞, Cancer ⬆️, Aries 🌙

💋Likes: pink & purple, astrology, manifesting, soft sweets like Donuts, pinterest, decorating, creative writing/journaling, baking, dolls, poetry, love letters, makeup, fashion, music, princess tiaras, dolls, early 2000s-2010s, strawberry poundcake, gourmand scents/sweet notes, cherry blossoms/Sakurai, Magnolias, cheetah and leopard print, fur coats, hello kitty, mocha sanrio, bunnies, butterflies, Chinese food, Lipgloss>>Lipstick

💋Fav movies: Twilight movies, Bratz(all of them), Jennifer's Body, Mean girls, cheetah girls, Cinderella(all the movies), Princess and the frog, Bambi, Dreamgirls, Care-bears "The sugar plum fairy and the nutcracker", Mr. And Mrs. Smith

💋Fav shows: Bratz, Winx fairies, Care-bears, Strawberry Shortcake, barbie (technically they movies but yall know)

💋 My fav blogs that inspired me to even wanna make this separate blog in the first place are people like @dreamgrlarchive @kittysdiary @sugarybisous @pinksugardollz @prettyvixenavenue @blackmalibubarbie @babyphat05 @bootobeneficiary @2pretty @thevirgodoll and many more!! All these blogs are literally so sweet and so special in there own unique way and they are all very helpful to become your best dolly dream girl, despite me knowing loa I still want to feel at my best self and these blogs are the epitome of feeling absolutely surreal literally just for existing 😭 so shout out to them.

💋That's all for now, please enjoy remember to be nice being mean is ugly and we don't do uglies over here

[softguarnere]

HEY BABY GIRL!!!!

It's your girl, your sweet cheese, your good time gal (someone please shut me up omfg). Now...you know i am a Joe Toye lover, and if you've seen me recently...he is the only man on my mind. I was wondering if you might indulge me a little with a Joe Toye x reader where they're besties since young and both end up being paratroopers together but then something happens and he thinks he's lost her but she's actually fine and maybe like fluffy reunion...idk tbh i'd take anything you write and eat it up so do whatever. Love youuuuu xx

Seven

Joe Toye x reader

A/N: OMG BELLA I MISSED YOU!!!! 💖 WELCOME BACK BABE! And of course we have a fic with a T Swift reference for you hehehe (This is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) Thanks so much for the request, and I hope you like this 💕 Warnings: mentions of war, death

You would kill him if you knew where he was right now. And yet, here he is. Trying to reassure and comfort your mother while sipping coffee from her finest set of teacups. The same teacups, he’s now realizing, that you used to serve him water in as children, calling it tea while the two of you played house, discussing the workplace as if you had any idea what went on there, while the adults around you struggled through the lack of those very places during the thirties. It could just be a coincidence, but after spending most of his life around her, Joe Toye would like to think that he knows your mother better than that.

“And you know how hardheaded she is,” your mother is ranting, cutting a fresh slice of poundcake and placing it on Joe’s plate. “She isn’t going to listen to me. Or anyone for that matter, now that her mind is made up.”

Oh, Joe knows exactly how hardheaded you are. In no small part thanks to the times that he accidentally clobbered that very head during neighborhood football games.

“(Y/N) feels good about this, Mrs. (Y/L/N),” Joe says, unsure of what he’s supposed to say during your mother’s hour of need. She’s right, after all – your mind has been made up, and it will not be changed.

“But do you?” Your mother fixes him with a hard gaze, raised brow and all.

You were with Joe when he went to enlist. He had watched your eyes sparkle when they fell onto the sign stating that women should inquire within about an exciting new opportunity that would allow them to serve their country like never before. And he had been by your side when you both left the building, both holding papers and smiling at the thought that you would be becoming paratroopers – together.

“Yes. (Y/N) is strong. She’ll be good in – “

“Joesph,” your mother interrupts. The façade finally falls as she collapses into the chair across the table from him, head in her hands. “She’s my baby! What if something – oh, God forbid! – happens to her? I couldn’t live with myself.”

Joe is by her side in an instant. When he announced that he was joining the Airborne, everyone had clapped him on the back and congratulated him. You have not had the same experience. While everyone keeps assuring Joe that he’ll do great things, the same people have been cautioning you to be careful. Some have even warned you that you should just give up now. And it’s all only served to strengthen your determination, with every underestimation making you more sure that this is what needs to be done.

All that is to say, Joe has no clue what to say to your mother. She needs to be comforted. But he’s out of his depth.

“I’ll watch out for her,” he finally manages.

Beneath the comforting hand that Joe has placed on her shoulder, your mother freezes. Watery eyes gaze up at him. “You – you will?”

“Of course.” The two of you have grown up together. You’ve always been friends. Why would he stop looking out for you now?

Your mother throws her arms around his neck, wrapping him up in a tight hug. “Oh, thank you!”

Joe is struggling to come up with something more to say when the sound of the front door opening and shutting saves him. Your footsteps echo through the front of the house as you call out in greeting.

“Ma! I’m home!” Stepping into the kitchen, you cross your arms, leaning onto the doorframe as you let out a loud sigh. “Wow, you would almost think that Joe is the child that you’re sending off to war instead of me.” You smile, and anyone could see how much you love your mother.

She wipes her teary eyes and pats Joe’s arm as he stands, returning to his seat. “I’m going to miss having someone around who doesn’t get into trouble all the time,” she teases as she cuts a slice of poundcake for you.

Something about the change of topic tells Joe that she would rather not have you find out about their conversation. His watching over you can be their little secret. And a job that he’ll readily accept.

After all, he tells himself as he watches you laugh at something your mother says. You would do the same for him.

--

The adrenaline from taking Brécourt Manor still hasn’t worn off yet. Joe is laughing at something that Guarnere said as they head back down the road. Something about this moment makes him feel invincible. This is why he chose to become a paratrooper, he realizes.

More men and women have congregated in the town since he’s been gone. Finally glancing at his watch reveals that he’s been gone most of the day. Wow, really? It didn’t feel like the assault took that long at all. At least it kept him busy, instead of sitting around here, waiting.

Joe scans the crowd, hoping to catch sight of you. When he doesn’t immediately spot you, he stops one of the other female paratroopers as she passes.

“Hey, Lilian. You seen (Y/N) around?”

Lilian pauses, her pretty green eyes widening slightly. “Oh. No.” She bites her lip, holding back something more.

“What is it?” Joe presses.

Her hesitation is not a good sign. Then she blurts out, “No one has seen her since the jump.”

“You mean – “

“She was supposed to be in my drop zone – but she wasn’t.”

The reality of it all sets in. (Y/N) didn’t reach the drop zone. Did she even make it out of the plane? God, he promised your mother that he would look out for you. Yet, here he is, with no clue where you might be.

He may have only just reached Europe, but he’s already failed his mission.

--

The dust is settling over Carentan when the incongruous cheer and subsequent peel of laughter hits Joe’s ears. Somewhere off in the distance, someone is celebrating. Meanwhile, he’s guarding Doc Roe as the medic moves along the streets, inspecting the bodies strewn over them to see if there’s anybody still alive that he can help.

“Thanks for doing this,” Roe says as he stands once more, moving on to another body.

“Hmm?” Joe snaps his attention back to the moment at hand. “Oh, no problem.”

Except there is a problem. He’s trying to catch a glimpse of every face as Doc Roe checks the bodies. He tries to make out names on dog tags, dreading that one of them might belong to you. He couldn’t stand it if he found you here, like this. What would he tell your mother? How would he ever erase that awful image from his mind? Of the little girl that he once played house with, lying motionless on these cold streets? It’s no better to imagine you going down in a plane doing a fiery corkscrew as it nosedives to the unforgiving soil of a foreign land. But at least he didn’t have to see that.

The terrible job done, he follows Roe back to the rest of the company. Despite everything that just happened, a few smiles can be expected, along with congratulatory words. But this is more than that.

A small group of men mill about, talking, smiling, as they watch a smaller group of the female paratroopers huddled together in a group, all talking loudly and looking excited. From the corner of his eye, he can see Doc Roe glance at him, but before the medic can ask what’s going on, the crowd parts and Joe freezes.

There, in the middle of it all, is you.

“(Y/N)?” It comes out louder than he means for it to, and his feet are already carrying him, double time, in your direction before he realizes what he’s doing.

You look up, your eyes widening. “Joe!” You launch yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in close.

Something rushes through Joe’s chest like a flash of lightning, too many feelings at once. There’s shock, relief, and something that he can’t quite name. Not caring about getting written up for fraternizing, Joe hugs you back, holding you close, lest you slip away from him again.

“Jesus Christ. I thought I lost you,” he says into your hair.

“I’m fine, as usual. Can’t believe you would doubt me like that.” Your voice is light, teasing, but your grip on him tightens. The usual confident swagger doesn’t leave your voice, but you admit in a quieter voice, “I, uh – I missed my drop zone. Had a hell of a time trying to find the rest of the company. But here I am!”

When the embrace ends, Joe still isn’t ready to let go. He leaves his hands on your shoulders, studying you. And you, for your part, hold onto his webbing. “I was just worried about you, is all.”

You nod. “I was worried about you, too. I – “

“Easy Company!” A booming voice interrupts. “We’re moving out!”

Quickly, while everyone is distracted, you raise yourself up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek. Heat rushes to Joe’s cheeks. He feels his eyes widen. You just smile at him, casual as can be.

“We’ve been friends since we were seven. You can’t get rid of me that easily, Joseph.” Then, you rejoin your friends, leaving him to replay the scene over and over in his mind.

He turns to watch you go, unable to move his feet from where they suddenly appear to be stuck to the ground. He’s held in place by the weight of his realization – the emotion that he couldn’t name was love, for you.

[poundcakecrm]

grimmichi day sneak peak of a scene from Apostasy: a grimmichi priest/demon au you can read HERE.

He glows, backlit by a stained-glass sunset, bathed in so much red and orange and gold it’s like it’s bleeding out of him – the sun trapped in synthetic skin, just itching to break out. His hair is actual fire and his skin is porcelain. It’s all so fucking holy, venomously so. Nearly enough to wash out the sea of red dribbling down his temples to his neck, staining the white collar still chaining him to this place. Some of it runs into his lips, makes him taste copper. Kurosaki spits onto the tile beneath him and goes back to his useless mutterings, a jumbled mess of prayers and curses. Grimmjow’s patience wears thin. It’s a miracle he hasn’t torched the whole building already, shown just how hot hellfire can rage even after last night’s downpour. But the sun has risen now. It’s a new day. And he doesn’t need any kind of omnipotence to know the cops will be swarming this place within the hour most likely, once the morning commuters discover a corpse in their sacred little town. He tolerates Kurosaki’s pity party only a few moments more before shoving off the altar and slinking forward, scowl twisting deeper, voice sharp. “Enough.” Kurosaki’s nails dig into the tile but his voice dies abruptly, like Grimmjow had slashed his throat instead of just piercing him with his gaze. But he doesn’t pick himself off the ground, off his knees, doesn’t lift his bowed head; and Grimmjow had watched him genuflect and bow and bend his body in all the ways sacred respect commands but never before had he ever watched the fucker crumble, not even for his cross. “Enough.” He spits it like an amen and abruptly grabs a handful of that flaming hair, yanking back, yanking up. Amber eyes meet pyre flame blue and Grimmjow stares, Kurosaki scowls, and they drown in a stained-glass sunrise. Grimmjow casts a shadow over the priest this close actually, a pillar of black that only adds to the DARK twisted into Kurosaki's face. And maybe its the scowl. Maybe its the lingering, reddened swelling from last night's tears. Maybe its the blood. Regardless, standing there before the tabernacle of an uncaring god, Grimmjow suddenly begins to wonder if this is what it looks like. Faith dying. Sirens begin to wail in the distance.

[enigmagp]

-Chapter 2: A Brush With Disaster-

Like an ancient monolith, Terminus stood over the forest, piercing red eyes tracking the light of Roxie’s sports car amongst the trees. Below, the trio raced to come up with a plan, all while assailed by the ever determined Knights of Unending End.

Autumn veered to one side, slamming into a golf cart full of knights and forcing it into a tree, taking it out with a twisting crunch of metal and bone.

“What’s the plan?! The Apocalypse Trigger’s been met-”

“It has not been met!” Autumn cut Serra off, “Terminus must escape the forest first!”

“Then let’s kill it first!” Serra swung her arm to take out a motorcyclist, their bike tumbling off behind them, “take us round the front!”

“Much easier to say than achieve!”

Roxie’s car ripped through the forest, veering around towards Terminus’ back. The beast tracked them through the trees until they passed its rear legs where, all too soon, they lost its attention. The walking disaster began, slowly, to move forward, each step sending quakes through the earth.

A hail of bullets from Serra’s revolvers bounced off its hide, ineffective. Terminus continued to move forward, the weather growing steadily worse.

Roxie took a deep breath, reaching out to her natural fairy magic; an ancestry with a deep connection to nature, and nature here was abundant. The clouds overhead rumbled more, louder, the thunder matched Roxie’s rhythm, a beat to her music.

Lightning split the sky in a flash of pure white, piercing the air and crashing into Terminus’ back; the beast staggered, roaring in pain. Electricity arced across Roxie’s guitar strings, racing through her fingers and up to her elbows, the fairy dropped back, slamming her shoulder into the corner of her amp.

“Fuck! Ow!” she clutched her shoulder, rolling awkwardly into the footwell.

Terminus recovered slowly, swaying side-to-side, smoldering cracks across the entirety of its broad back. Autumn swerved right, towards its tail.

Arrows from the Knights of Unending End whistled by, clattering off the car and Autumn’s plating. Two of them sunk into Serra’s arm, to little effect, but one caught Autumn in the neck.

Finding a gap between the metal plating, it made a horrible grinding noise as Autumn’s body began to shudder and shake, it was all the automaton could do to keep the car straight. Terminus’ tail swung downwards as they raced under it, with no way to swerve.

Serra was out of her seat in a flash, drawing her katanas. Power surged through the blades as she swept them overhead, slicing clean through the monster’s tail. It fell to the ground with a thud, crushing the Knights who couldn’t swerve in time. With reduced numbers, the Knights kept up the chase.

“Not goin’ anywhere now!” Serra grinned, wiping blood from her eyes.

“Not until it kills us,” Roxie grabbed Autumn’s headrest and pulled herself to her knees in the footwell, tugging the arrows out of Autumn’s neck and shoulder. Their mobility was still reduced, but with the obstructions free they were able to drift the car to Terminus’ left side, “let’s piss it off more!”

“Perhaps if-”

“Watch it!” Autumn had taken their eyes off the road for a second and Terminus unleashed a breath of black smoke and bile in their path. Serra grabbed the wheel and yanked it to the right, steering between the monster’s legs.

The Knights’ vehicles may have matched them in speed, but their handling left much to be desired, and the zealots careened into the ruinous breath.

Rusted vehicles and rotted bodies rolled pathetically out the other side, the withering of a hundred years had snuffed their lives out in an instant. The King slammed his foot into his subordinate’s wrist, their buggy swerving wildly to the left.

Another Knight’s vehicle collided with their rear end, sending them spinning out into the trees, safe on the other side of the Primordial Reckoning’s breath. Their companion vehicles were not so lucky.

Beneath Terminus, Autumn took back control of the vehicle, veering left towards its head. One massive foot lifted into the air, mud and rain-soaked stone crumbling off it, and came back down above their heads.

Autumn released the wheel, leaving Serra to dive for it, and raised both arms overhead, forming a chronomantic sigil. Magic swept out across the leg and spread to the rest of the beast, slowing it in time to a near halt.

The car sped along under its slowly encroaching foot, the light of safety just ahead. Autumn rattled and shook, desperately holding on to the magic they had summoned, while Roxie wrapped her arms around their shoulders from behind the seat, humming a panicked tune to help maintain their strength.

With a triumphant roar of the engine, the car raced out of harm’s way, but the edge of the foot clipped Serra’s horns as they went, slamming her forehead into the windshield. She lost control of the car and it spun out in the mud.

Rattled around, Autumn nearly flew out of the vehicle, releasing control of their magic to grab a more secure position as the car slid to a halt. Terminus’ foot slammed down, the quake sending Autumn tumbling over the hood and onto the ground, profuse smoke billowing from beneath their metal plate skin, “Serra! Now’s our chance!” their voice was compressed and distorted as chronomantic energies racked their body.

Serra shook her head clear, clambering onto the hood. With a wide stance, she inhaled deeply, the slit-like vents in her side expanding to draw in more air. Her chest swelled slightly, a glowing pink energy rising from the tip of her tail, through her spikes and along her spine, through her chest and up into her throat. Smoke leaked from the corners of her mouth, the energy filled her eyes, and she unleashed from her maw a beam of pure, concentrated, fiery power.

It impacted Terminus’ chest and began to carve its way inside, red hot cracks spreading across the beast’s skin, starting to crumble away. With a pained roar, the energy split huge tears across Terminus’ body and ripped out of its already fractured back, stretching into the clouds.

The Primordial Reckoning staggered and swayed, the rain died out and the thunder stopped, clouds clearing to let sunlight once again break through, shining onto the trio through the bloody hole they had carved. Terminus dipped to one side and collapsed, a deafening boom echoing through the forest as it hit the ground in a cloud of splintered wood and splattered mud.

Serra blinked in the light, smoke billowing from her mouth and nostrils. With a heavy sigh, she fell back onto her butt, seated on the hood. Her tail flicked out happily, slapping the windshield, “still alive, Autumn?”

“Ask me again in five minutes.” Autumn’s speech sped up and slowed down at random, shaking and twitching painfully.

“Ow…” Roxie blew gently on her scorched fingers, “apocalypse averted, mission complete.”

“I’m not-”

“Blasphemers!”

The shout shook the weary group from rest. The King, stood proud upon a battered buggy, a handful of surviving Knights at his side, raced towards them.

“Infidels! Cowards! Bastards!” he screamed, “cut them down! Kill them! No mercy! Fight to the death!”

“Son of a bitch!” Serra exploded from her seat, blades flashing out, slicing the damaged buggy in two.

The Knights and King tumbled into the mud and rolled to their feet, blades in hand to rush the group. Roxie whistled an off-kilter tune, peppering one of them with sonic blows that knocked them unconscious.

Staggering to their knees, Autumn got a hand on the hood and drove their rapier into the ground, fiery cracks splintering like a web through the mud and erupting as geysers of flames that incinerated another three.

Serra clashed with the King in a furious battle of blades, while the last Knight circled around, rushing her back. Serra deflected a blow from the King and it went wide, cutting the Knight down with a slash of pure force. The King abandoned his blade and grabbed her wrists, smashing his helmet into her forehead. Unable to utilize swords at this range, Serra dropped her own blades, claws flashing.

The King grabbed Serra’s horn, smashing his gauntlet repeatedly into her face, and she grabbed at his helmet, getting her claws into the eyeholes.

“What were you saying?” Roxie asked Autumn, as the brawl continued beside them.

“I’m not sure this is where it ends,” Autumn shook their head, looking up. The Threads of Fate had returned to normal, swirling endlessly above, “who else was practicing chronomancy today?” their eyes turned to the limp, lifeless body of the Primordial Reckoning, “how did the Knights know where to awaken Terminus, or how?” their eyes turned to the two halves of the buggy’s engine block, “and who upgraded their vehicles to keep up with an adventure grade sports car?”

“Four months of investigation and we’re still not done,” Roxie sighed, “how many people could want the world to end?”

Roxie jumped a little as the King was thrown into the car, grabbed again and thrown against the ground. Serra seized her katanas and sank one into the King’s neck, finally putting the zealot down.

“Lotta folks got a problem with our world,” Serra pointed out, “question is, who’s got the resources?”

Autumn’s eyes scanned the environment, but there were no Knights left alive they could question, not after the chaos of the last battle, “Serra, could you retrieve the halves of the engine? The construction could yield some answers.”

“Right, course.”

The trio gathered themselves slowly, stowing the halves of the engine in Roxie’s trunk, clambering into the car with heavy limbs and sore bodies. Roxie, unable to play her guitar at the moment, hummed a quiet tune that filled the space and soothed their wounds.

A gentle breeze blew through, swirling and twisting with Roxie’s magic. Their wounds began to heal themselves, a blessing from the forest itself, as thanks. Roxie flexed her fingers and smiled, shifting to the driver’s seat and taking the wheel.

Autumn quietly collapsed across the back seat, still recovering from the effects of a chronomantic feat, and unconsciousness soon overtook them.

Roxie turned the car around and headed back the way they had come, down the now muddy path amongst the trees.

“What’s the plan once we get home?” she wondered, “Autumn can pick that engine apart for clues, but I’m fresh outta leads.”

“Gonna see my girlfriend,” Serra huffed, settling uncomfortably into her seat.

“It’s been four days, don’t act like the world is gonna end.”

“Won’t anymore,” Serra smiled a little, “I’ll reach out to Meiko n’ Kaeru, see if they turned anything up.”

“Smart. I’m gonna submit the forms for our payment; Terminus, the King and the Knights should make us all plenty of cash,” Roxie smiled, but it sank quickly, “ugh, but that’s so much work… forget that, you got plans with Seren?”

A devilish smile crept across Serra’s face, “Well…”

“Ew, nevermind, I don’t wanna hear about that,” Roxie waved her hand as though wafting away a foul smell, “I’m probably just gonna sleep when I get home, I can edit today’s footage later.”

“M’sure we’ll get some sleep eventually.”

“Gross, Serra!” Roxie threw an old cup at the laughing demon, the fairy couldn’t help but laugh a little herself.

Light began to surround the car, and Roxie pressed a button on the console, summoning a hardtop roof that guarded the weary adventurers from the elements. The car pulled out of the trees and emerged into a gorgeous city, a fairy metropolis of marble spires combining flawlessly with the nature around it. The forest behind them was now a small grove of golden foliage, one of many portals to the endless wilderness they left behind.

Roxie merged with traffic and slowly brought the group out of the city, reaching a road that stretched out into a meadow of beautiful flowers, then to a rolling green plain, leaving the city of Nixielogue behind. Many hours passed, and the sun was hanging low in the sky when they came to a bridge, at least a hundred meters long, stretched across a huge ravine with flowing ocean waters at its bottom.

The continents of Exicara consisted of impossibly huge, shattered plates, separated by gaps such as these, mountainous drops into the unfathomable waters of the ocean. Roxie turned the heat up when they crossed, as the temperature outside dropped. This plate could not have been more different from the one before, a polar biome, a rolling tundra into a forest coated by snow.

The majority of their journey took them across this plate. As the sun at last set, Autumn awoke slowly, trading places with Roxie for a while. Though they stopped occasionally for food or gas, they were all exhausted and eager to be home. Early in the evening of their third day of travel, they finally crossed another bridge into a significantly more moderate environment, passing through a cliff-filled forest, up and down the side of a mountain, and at last arrived at New Diagory.

New Diagory was a city at least twice the size of Nixielogue, though it was just as tuned to nature. Buildings and streets were built around huge, natural spikes of earth, with plenty of room for nature to thrive. From this side, the trio first drove through a nice suburban area, then into the city itself. Buildings were built with trees growing in and around, solid bridges on many levels stretching between them, creating a busy environment that blended the needs of people and nature.

It was Autumn’s home they visited first, a quiet apartment in a section of city that stretched underground into a massive cavern, where the buildings were built stout and wide. The trees became moss and mushrooms, glowing gently in cycles that mimicked the daylight above, by this hour the city was dim. Autumn’s home was at the far West end, overlooking the smaller buildings adventurers and researchers used, just before the city gave way to the cavern altogether.

Autumn’s third-floor apartment was nice, fairly spacious, the front door opened directly into a living space with an attached kitchen, three doors beyond served as bedrooms and a single bathroom. Resting on the couch was a young woman with short brown hair and pale white skin, wearing a red shirt and black pants with an apron overtop, a steel mace on the cushion beside her. She looked, impossibly, more tired than the arriving adventurers.

“Joy.”

“Hey, Auts,” she yawned loudly. She was staring at the TV, though it was currently turned off, “s’that Serra?”

“Heyo,” Serra leaned to avoid a hanging lamp, moving into the apartment.

“No Rox?”

“In the car,”

“Damn,”

“Serra, would you place that on my workbench?” Autumn asked, resting on the back of the couch.

Serra took the engine through the fourth door, into Autumn’s room. It was a simple space in shades of white, primarily dominated by their workbenches, one to either side, and a neatly made bed stuffed into the corner. Myriad projects, in various stages of completion, spilled from the workspaces, and a wall of written scraps, notes, articles, photos and countless other pieces were pinned above them both, the trail of their ongoing investigation. The far wall led onto a balcony, overlooking the strange wilderness of the cave beyond.

Serra dropped the engine pieces onto the cleanest available surface and turned back, waving Autumn a quick farewell on her way out the door.

“Not gonna forgive if y’stay up workin’,” she warned.

“You have my promise,” Autumn assured her. They watched as she exited, shutting the door behind her.

“...y’gonna work?”

“Naturally.”

-

The trip to Serra’s home was quick and uneventful, just a short drive back through the city. She lived roughly in the middle of town, where the buildings were often taller rather than wider. The elevator ride took her to the seventh floor in exhausted silence, down a corridor and to apartment number seventy-two, a nice oak door with a hanging wreath of green and white flowers. She’d barely gotten her own key out when the handle turned, and a tiny woman in a white silk nightgown flew out of the doorway to embrace her.

Seren was a minor nature spirit, maybe five feet tall and plump with tan, freckled skin and waist-length, dark green curls. Sapphire blue eyes scanned Serra up and down, taking in all the injuries. The cuts, the bruises, the black eye and scuffed horn, the bandages only half-decently wrapped and wounds healed just enough to make it home.

“You look beautiful,” Seren told her, pulling on Serra’s arm, “don’t die on our welcome mat?”

“Got all the energy I need, now,” Serra smiled, letting herself be dragged inside.

-

Roxie got herself home last, barely awake enough to not crash. Her house was not an apartment, but a proper standing home in the suburban space at the edge of the city, with an attached garage she pulled her car into.

The house was nicely decorated and decently clean, Roxie made an effort to keep her spaces proper, but now the weariness of their adventure had fully overtaken her. She was barely through the door as she pulled the long unwashed pieces of clothing off, tossing them haphazardly across whatever furniture was available, jacket across the table, shirt on the couch and skirt on the floor by the stairs. She tossed her bra on the railing as she ascended and threw open the door to her bedroom, placing her guitar gently on its stand.

The bedroom was a little messier than the house at large, a huge plush bed with black sheets and a thick, weighted pink blanket took pride of place, beckoning invitingly. A pair of bookshelves took up one corner, to either side of a dark red armchair, which she haphazardly threw her bag and underwear over.

Though the bed called to her like a siren’s song, Roxie took a moment to examine herself in the mirror. She had far fewer injuries than Serra or Autumn, being purely a magic user, and a much smaller target at that, four inches shorter than even Seren. A small smile found its way to her as she looked her lean frame up and down, six years in a body that at last felt like her and she still felt a little happier every time she saw it, tiny holographic wings fluttering excitedly on her back.

Finally, Roxie tore her eyes away and collapsed gratefully into bed, allowing sleep to overtake her.

[venomous-soliloquy]

Stolen from @soliloquent-stark for giggles:

rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there’s a pattern!

I'm limiting this to my Stony fics only, of which there are 8 (finished ones lmao)

1. Quick Thinking and a Dash of Luck:

Now that things had fallen into place—so to speak—it was easier to look back and figure out where their part in the Time Heist had gone so wrong; a prospect that was easier to accept that their plan had fallen to shambles.

2. Reading it all Wrong:

The first time he sees it, Tony is walking toward the shared kitchen after a long night in the workshop.

3. Don't Be Afraid To Look:

It’s stupid to hang onto the feeling.

4. Poundcake:

The first time Tony offers to let Steve eat him out, they’re talking about the things they have and haven’t done in bed.

5. Good Boy:

"Be a good boy for me, Steve. Stay there, keep your hands on your legs… I'll be right back."

6. Calling His Bluff:

"Y'know…" Tony started conversationally, holding his legs against his chest as he watched Steve shuck off his underwear in front of him.

7. Beneath the Tide:

This wasn’t home.

8. The Kiss:

The Quinjet had barely touched down on the helipad and opened for him before Steve’s red leather boots were thudding across the concrete surface, sense of purpose in each step.

Not real sure there's a pattern, but then again who knows. You can let me know if you see one. (All I can tell is that my writing has gotten better)

Tagging: Whomever hasn't had a chance to do it yet!

[moronic-validity]

Blessing

This is a cute little drabble for one of my closest friends, @beetlejewce and ngl, I'm never confident writing PB's dialogue, but we're rolling with it!

Story under the cut!

It had been a lifetime since they met, a lifetime spent growing together, growing apart, and back together again. 

Bonnibel wanted to marry Marceline. 

She and Marcy had discussed it, half-jokingly, over a bottle of wine from before the bombs fell. What marriage would look like for them, if they should even mention the ‘til death do us part’ line. 

The only thing Marceline wanted for sure, was Bonnibel to get Simon’s blessing.

It had been weeks since they had that conversation and she had spent the time rehearsing what to say.

She had never been so anxious for someone’s approval in her life. 

She went to his house, or better said, exhibit, early on a Friday morning before he opened for the day. 

She knocked twice on the garage door and she heard him hack as the door opened.

He beckoned her in and closed the door behind her. 

“Princess,” he greeted, swaying as he sat down on the edge of his bed, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Simon, are you okay?” Her original purpose for the meeting was forgotten. 

She wasn’t used to seeing him look this weak. He was clammy, sweating bullets, and seemed to wheeze with every breath. 

“Oh don’t mind me, it’s just a cold,” He waved off her concern, before turning to cough again, “Now, what's on your mind? Is everything okay?”

Bonnibel opened her mouth to question if he was sure it was a cold, but she knew better than to press him. 

“I have a really important question for you Simon,” She began fiddling with the hem of her sweater, “I know how much you love Marceline, and I love her too, a lot. Her and I have been through so much together and through it all, we have stood by each other… and I would like to stand by her for the rest of our lives,” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “Simon, I’d like your bles-”

She stopped mid-sentence, cut off by a loud thump. 

She opened her eyes, only to find Simon convulsing on the floor. 

It took her less than three seconds to get on the ground next to him. She rolled him onto his side and undid the top few buttons of his shirt, trying to make sure there was nothing pressing on his airway.

She watched her watch, timing the seizure. 

It lasted just under a minute. 

His entire body relaxed and he blinked back to consciousness. 

Bonnie pressed her hand to his forehead and frowned.

“Simon, are you awake?”

He nodded, still disoriented and suddenly very tired. 

“Okay, we’re about to go to the hospital. You just had a seizure and it looks like you have a nasty fever,” She pulled out her phone and pressed a couple buttons before looking back at her soon-to-be father-in-law, “I just texted Marceline to meet us there.” 

Simon tried to protest, but he just kept coughing. 

She helped him sit up, his back against the bed. 

“Door, open,” Bonnibel commanded, checking her phone again for an ETA from Finn.

He was parked in front of the exhibit, ducking under the door the second it was open enough. 

They carried the half-conscious Simon into the RV and Finn drove like the Lich was on his heels. 

Sure, Minerva was in the human city, but if the AI hadn’t treated what Simon had yet, she doubted it would now. She firmly believed there was better medical care to be found in the Candy Kingdom. 

Bonnibel didn’t ask questions as to how Finn got the RV in the human city, nor did she ask how he was going to get it down. She had her full attention on keeping upright and making sure he didn’t seize again.

Nurse Poundcake greeted them at the gate and took over Simon’s care, rushing him into the castle infirmary. 

“So…is he going to…” Finn kept trailing off as Bonnie stood just outside the RV, still reeling. 

“I think he’s going to be okay…I don’t know what happened though, he was fine and then he…” she mimed him falling off the bed. 

He nodded and they sat in the silence for a moment. 

“I’m going to go to the infirmary, I need to be able to update Marcy.”

“Just keep me posted,” Finn called as she ran off into her kingdom. He shook his head and backed up, deciding to just drive around until one of his nephews or nieces gave him a call. 

She found Simon’s bed quickly and sat at his side, nervously tapping her foot as the IV dripped. 

From what Nurse Poundcake had told her, he was extremely dehydrated and had a fever well over 100 degrees. She figured it was a respiratory infection that he let go untreated. For now, though, he needed antibiotics, fluids, and sleep.

The princess picked up her phone and called her girlfriend again.

Marceline had been playing bass for most of the day, her phone forgotten on the couch.

She happened to turn around and see it vibrating, so she set her instrument down and picked up her phone.

“Hey Peebs, everything okay?” 

Bonnie took a deep breath. 

“Have you checked your phone?”

“Um…no? I’ve been practicing all day, what’s up?” 

“Okay, you really need to get to the Candy Kingdom infirmary now, Simon is okay, but he did have a seizure and-” 

The line went dead.

Marceline was there in seconds. 

They sat together, waiting for Simon to wake up. 

He was groggy when he finally opened his eyes, unsure of where he was. 

“Simon!” Marceline hugged him as soon as she saw his eyes open.

He hugged her back, still unsure of where he was. 

“Anyone want to fill me in?”

“You had a seizure, why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick?” She still wasn’t letting go of him.

“I had a seizure? I didn’t think it was that bad…” He shook his head, making a mental note to not ignore the next time he had a cough.

Marceline finally let go of him, sitting on the edge of his hospital bed. 

“Oh, Bonnibel, what was it that you wanted to ask me?” He turned his head and gave the Princess a weak smile. 

“I…” She trailed off, looking between the love of her life and her adopted father, “I wanted to ask for your blessing to marry Marceline…” 

Everyone was quiet for a moment, letting the words sink in.

Simon broke the silence with a laugh. 

“Bonnie, I thought you two were already married! Of course, you have my blessing!”

[historixally-accurate]

forward rolls into your inbox :3

good evening.....morning.....teehee....(i am assuming you are seeing this at 9am, which in case....hope you are enjoying your breakfast! and also. wow, that is a healthy sleep schedule for an SG student newly lavishing in the freedom of the holidays.) im rewlly happy you dont mind me rolling into your inbox every day. i love doing it. seriously. like you said, it feels like using Singpost and writing letters. its part of why i love tumblr and its askboxes.

saying that youre struggling with MOE past year papers/different school papers is so damn relatable. i'm just grateful im not in pri sch anymore where teachers woukd be dispensing that shit like water at the water cooler. LMAO

youre a kazuha liker huh? my friend is too. so as a birthday present, i drew kazuha with weed on the class whiteboard once for their birthday. i knew next to nothing about his lore but their expression of utter despair was worth it.

YOU MADE YOUR PLD LOCKSCREEN TALKINGMIME?!?!?!?!? thats kinda genius too. i woukd scream and panic if i saw this in public btw. and flounder in panic and joy like a pathetic fish. blub

Im still pretty new to mcsr in general, but i actually followed an unusual pipeline into it: unlike most people being introduced via couri or feinberg, i actually entered via 21mustard.... more specufically the vid about his online friend trying to find him again. i like 21mustard and zylenox :3 and emerald (ithink), fein, mr lewis fulham, poundcake, fyroah and ofc mr mime. im still exploring though. im charmed by k4's mic peaks. it took me ages to strart putting names to faces and then voices...

as for my own speedrunning, i unfortunately do not play any noteworthy speedrunning games. however, i am currently trying to speedrun Minesweeper! its going pretty well.

as always, i hope youre doing well, whenever youre reading this. - sgmcsr anon

GOOD MORNING.. I'm replying to this a little too late (it's 12pm), but IDGAF LETS ROLL!!

I love opening inbox and answering asks, it's like. you get a silly letter every single day to answer and. i get why the people in the past really fucked w this... it's really awesome. anyway.

about MOE and exams, ohh thank god I'm not in primary school anymore, that PSLE grind was HORRIBLE. having to do like. what, 20 page papers for math (paper 1 or 2 alone!!) and all of them being really difficult questions really fucked w my brain... at least papers now are semi tolerable and I can do them 🤷 I remember in primary school my science teacher handed us like.. 5 past year papers to do over June holidays, and I was COOKED. anyway

about genshin, LMAOOOO FUCK THATS HILARIOUS... I'd be terrified too if I saw kazuha smoking a blunt for my birthday like. the aura that exudes. holy schmoly

about talkingmime, YEAH.. my PLD lock screen is actually that one silly art piece of everyone who played pico park, and on my home screen is a small talkingmime doodle... I am normal, totally! I must be normal! fun fact, my phone lock screen is silverrruns. Hehe. this photo specifically

yeah. Hehe. and my home screen is a really pretty nEmerald drawing... :3

about speedrunners THOSE ARE A BUNCHA GOOD PICKS... k4's mic peaks are legendary.. yay. NEMERALD AND FYROAH.. ohh. I love them very muchie. I even drew them. they're so skibidi to me.

about speedrunning, minesweeper speedrunning is verg cool. I've always wanted to learn how to play minesweeper... but it's always so scarrryyy... I should learn how to play it one day, on skibidi..

IM FINISHING THIS AT 1 34 PM. IM STUCK IN MATH TUITION RN. I love your singposts , thank u sg anon have a skibidi day

[trashmouth-milkshake]

This blog is supposed to be a WWE writing blog, but since my last first day of high school is close, I wanted to share with y'all what I put in my emergency kit because I want to help you guys who will start school in September or October like me (my first day is 13rd September this) to be prepared because I love these type of lists you can find on TikTok, YouTube, Pinterest etc. So here's what I put in my emergency bag:

Pads: I've never been a tampons fan, so I put a couple pads for type (two large ones and two small ones).

Wipes: makeup removing wipes, deodorant wipes and intimate wipes because I found these three types in travel size at a drugstore in my town and they're perfect for travel, school, roadtrips, anything!

Glasses cleansing wipes: I wear glasses and they're always dirty so... yeah.

Deodorant: as for the wipes, I found the mini size of my two daily deodorants (I use a spray one that doesn't stain clothes and a gel one that lasts) and they could be good after gym class or regular gym.

Perfume: I already had a mini perfume a friend of mine gifted me for my 15th birthday at home so I put that in because you never know the perfume you put at home doesn't last.

Lip balm/chapstick: for all of you who have dry lips and if you wear lipstick, I suggest to buy one that also adds some pigment to your lips in case your lipstick fades away during the day.

Mint flavoured breathe spray: sometimes because of my ADHD brain, I forget to brush my teeth in the morning (I'm looking forward to make sure it won't happen ever again), but in case your breathe smells horrible for any reason or you just want to refresh your mouth, it can be a must-have.

Topexan s.o.s pimple stick: especially for the people who have oily or acne skin and pimple popping out all over their face like mushrooms.

Toilet covers: they were €0.99 at a drugstore and my mom suggested me to buy them because they could be useful if I have to go to the bathroom and I'm not home.

Hand lotion: I had to give a look in the bag because I literally forgot what I put inside- anyways, in during winter time, I noticed my hands get pretty dry and itchy like a some sort of eczema and I never had a hand lotion in my backpack, so I bought the less expensive one that I think it's unscented because I had a passion fruit one, but the scent is too strong for me and it could irritate my skin.

Hand sanitizer: I don't keep it in my bag, but I have it hanging on my backpack because it's from Bath and Body Works and if you're interest, the hand sanitizer scent is strawberry poundcake and the case is pink gummy bear shaped (I love it and it's also a nice idea for a gift).

Mini hairbrush: my hair's always a mess in the morning and I'm not really good at brushing it and it also has a mirror included which is the actual reason why I bought it.

Hair ties: I've been obsessed with taking hair ties to school since one of my classmates who needed one borrowed it from me and I hope I'll be able to help other people with their long hair issues hehehe.

Spray stain remover: whenever I eat, I always stain my clothes and I read on pinterest that they suggest to put it in the emergency kit, but I couldn't find a stick one so I had to buy a spray one on Amazon, I hope it fits because I don't know how small it looks like in real life (it was delivered today, but I still haven't got the package).

Medicines: mostly painkillers because last year I always forgot to take painkillers and whenever I used to get my period at school, I had to call my mom to pick me up earlier or

Chewing-gums: I'll buy them last minute. I don't chew these very often, but my mom has the bad habit to chew the inside of her cheek due to anxiety and to avoid that, I prefer chewing a gum than my cheek.