#'it is! oh I loved their stuff before! follow!'

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

． 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 . ?!

⟢ tws : nsfw/smut, bunny fem!reader, dubcon, p*rn with no plot, rough sex, degradation, dumbification, dirty talk, crying, mild dacryphilia, overstimulation, size kink?, clit play, squirting, mention of reader drooling, reader is implied to be chubby, tail and ears play, pet names (bunny, sweetheart, etc), & other stuff!

⟢ note : art header is by rororo_mg on X ! also happy 900+ followers for me! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡ also not proofread!

“You're such a dumb little bunny, aren’t you?” Phainon chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement as he pressed you against the mattress, his body caging yours in. His gloved fingers dug into your plush thighs, keeping you spread wide as he fucked into you with rough, steady thrusts. Your soft ears twitched helplessly, your fluffy tail flicking against the sheets, every movement of your body betraying how completely wrecked you were.

You could barely form a response—your mouth hung open, soft little whimpers spilling out as your body jolted with every deep stroke.

“Bet you can’t even think right now, huh?”Phainon teased, nipping at your jaw before grabbing your chin, making you look at him. “Just a stupid little bunny, letting me fuck you silly.”

You moaned at his words, your head lolling to the side. “Ngh—P-Phainon—feels too good,” you whined, your hands gripping onto his clothes for stability.

“Yeah?” His grin widened, amusement flickering in his baby blue eyes. “Then you better hold on, sweetheart, ‘cause I’m not stopping till that pretty little brain of yours turns to mush.”

And with that, he slammed into you harder, drawing out another desperate, needy moan. You could only whimper, your tail fluffing up against the sheets, completely at his mercy, your body trembling as he fucked you stupid—just like he said he would.

Phainon only laughed when your voice broke into a hiccupping whimper, your soft thighs trembling beneath his grip. His pace never slowed, fucking into you with the same rough, devastating rhythm that had your body bouncing helplessly beneath him. You were so warm, so tight around him, your insides squeezing down like you were made for this.

“N-No!” you sobbed, your ears twitching violently as you tried to shake your head. “I’m not a stupid bunny!”

But your little cries, the way you clung to him, the way your body responded so perfectly to every thrust—you weren’t fooling anyone. Least of all Phainon.

He smirked, leaning down until his lips brushed against the tear-streaked heat of your cheek. “Oh? Then why are you drooling all over yourself, huh?” He rolled his hips, forcing a choked gasp from your swollen lips. “Why are you taking me so well, squeezing me like you don’t want me to stop?”

“I-I don’t—!” you hiccupped, your voice cracking as another wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your tail flicked wildly against the sheets, your hands clawing at his shoulders, but there was no real fight in your movements—just desperation. Just need.

Phainon grinned against your cheek, biting down gently before licking away the dampness of your tears. “Liar,” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. His fingers slid down to press against the sensitive bump between your thighs, circling it in lazy, teasing strokes. “You love being my dumb bunny. Even if you won’t admit it.”

You let out a high, shuddering sob, your walls clenching around him in pure, involuntary reaction. “Ngh—d-don’t s-say that!” you wailed, your face burning hot.

Phainon only hummed, his smirk deepening. “I’ll stop when you stop proving me right.” He thrust deep, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and your next cry came out broken—too lost in pleasure to be anything but the truth.

Phainon’s smirk only widened when your breath hitched into another helpless sob, your body arching beneath him as he kept up his pace. Your ears twitched violently, your tail fluffing up against the sheets, betraying just how overwhelmed you were. He was right, and you both knew it—you could cry and protest all you wanted, but your body told the real story.

“Look at you,” he murmured, dragging his lips down your tear-streaked cheek, nipping at your jaw. “All fucked dumb on my cock, still trying to act like you’ve got a single thought in that little head of yours.” He laughed, deep and smug, his gloved fingers pressing firmer against the throbbing bud between your thighs. “Sweetheart, you lost that fight the second you started drooling.”

You let out a choked whimper, your hands pawing uselessly at his shoulders. "S-Shut up!" you wailed, voice high and desperate, but it only made him push deeper, drawing another broken sob from your lips.

“Make me,” he taunted, his thrusts growing sharper, sending jolts of pleasure through your trembling form. “Oh, wait—you can’t. Too busy taking it like my perfect, dumb little bunny.”

Your tail flicked wildly, your whole body squirming beneath him as if trying to escape the truth pressing down on you from all angles. But there was nowhere to run—not when you were stretched around him, not when every roll of his hips sent heat licking up your spine.

“N-No! I-I don’t—!” You gasped as he angled deeper, your head tossing back against the pillows. “I d-don’t—!”

“You do.” His fingers gripped your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His blue eyes burned with amusement, with something darker, something possessive. “So go on, sweetheart. Cry for me. Beg me to stop if you really mean it.”

Your breath shuddered, your lips parting—but no protest came. Just another soft, needy little whimper. Just another desperate clench around his cock.

Phainon grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

And then he fucked you harder.

Phainon’s relentless thrusts drove you deeper into a frenzy, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. Each powerful push sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you, your walls clenching around him with an urgency that only fueled his desire to dominate. He loved the way you writhed beneath him, a perfect mix of desperation and delight.

“Look at you, so lost in it,” he taunted, his voice low and sultry as he leaned down to kiss the tender skin of your neck. “Can you even think straight? Or is that little brain of yours just full of how good it feels to be my dumb bunny?”

You could only whimper in response, the heat pooling in your core building to an almost unbearable intensity. You felt utterly exposed, completely at his mercy, and yet every thrust only stoked the fire within you. It was maddening—and yet you craved more.

“Please…” you begged, your voice breaking as you desperately sought release. “I need—”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Phainon’s grip on your chin tightened as he pulled back, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Use your words.”

“I need… I need you to touch me there!” you cried out, cheeks flushed with humiliation but unable to deny the truth of your desire.

“Touch you where?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Your breath hitched as he thrust deeper, the force of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you again and again. “M-My clit! Please!”

“Good girl,” he said, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “I’ll give you what you want.”

With that, he released your chin and moved his hand between your bodies, fingers expertly finding your clit. His touch was electric, the pressure building as he rubbed tight circles around the sensitive bud, perfectly timed with the rhythm of his thrusts.

You gasped, your body arching off the bed as pleasure surged through you. “Yes! Just like that!” you cried, feeling the heat coiling tighter and tighter within you.

“See? There’s that beautiful sound,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth as he kept his fingers moving, teasing and coaxing your pleasure higher. “You’re such a good little bunny for me, aren’t you?”

Your eyes fluttered shut, your world narrowing down to the sensations coursing through you—the fullness of his cock inside you, the blissful pressure of his fingers on your clit, and the overwhelming wave of heat threatening to crest. You were close, so close, but it felt like a teasing edge that just wouldn’t tip.

“Don’t you dare hold back,” Phainon warned, his tone shifting to something more commanding. “I want to feel you squirt all over my cock, sweetheart. Let go. Let me feel you.”

The authority in his voice sent another jolt of desire through you, and with every thrust, every flick of his fingers, you felt the dam within you ready to break. “P-Phainon, I—I can’t—!”

“Shh, just let it happen,” he coaxed, his fingers moving faster, harder against your clit. “You can do it. I know you can.”

It felt like everything in your body was tightening, a spring coiling to its limit. You could hardly think; all that existed was the pulsing pleasure, the ache for release, and Phainon’s relentless voice urging you on.

And then, with one final thrust and a desperate cry, it happened. The world exploded in pleasure as you let go, your body responding without hesitation. You squirted around his cock, the rush of ecstasy washing over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under.

“Yes! Just like that, sweetheart!” Phainon growled, his pace never faltering as he reveled in the feeling of you clenching and spasming around him. “Such a good girl. Look at you—completely lost in it.”

You felt like you were floating, the room spinning as pleasure coursed through you in waves, leaving you breathless. Every aftershock was more intense than the last, your body still trembling beneath him as he continued to drive into you, pushing you through the high you’d just reached.

“Please… I can’t—” you gasped, but Phainon’s thrusts showed no signs of slowing.

“Keep going, sweetheart. I want to feel you milk me dry,” he said, voice low and hungry. “You’re going to take everything I have to give.”

Each thrust was met with the perfect friction of his cock against your walls, your sensitive clit still throbbing under his ministrations. You felt overstimulated but still yearning for more, and with every sharp thrust, every roll of his hips, you were dragged deeper into the whirlpool of pleasure he had created.

“Phainon, I can’t take it!” you cried, tears of pleasure spilling from your eyes as your body writhed beneath him.

“Then tell me how much you want it,” he commanded, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “Tell me how much you love being my dumb little bunny.”

You gasped, your heart racing at his words, feeling the heat flush through you once again. “I—I love it! I love being your dumb bunny! Please, don’t stop!” You cried out loud, your fluffy tail wiggling like crazy.

“Good girl,” he purred, the satisfaction in his voice sending a thrill through you. “Now let’s see just how much more you can take.”

With renewed determination, he picked up his pace, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep within you, each thrust pushing you closer to another edge. You were completely at his mercy, and in that moment, you couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

“P—Phainon—Ahh!” you cried out, feeling the pressure building again, ready to explode. “I’m so close!”

“Let go for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you come around me again,” he urged, his voice a sultry promise that sent shivers down your spine.

You felt that familiar tightness coiling in your core once more, and with a few more thrusts, you surrendered to the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your cunt tightened around him, and you cried out as you came again, squirting around him in a rush of ecstasy.

“Yes! That’s it!” Phainon growled, his own release following closely behind as he thrust into you one last time, filling your pussy up completely. The sensation of him spilling into you pushed you even higher, and you felt like you were floating in pure bliss, completely consumed by pleasure.

As the waves of ecstasy finally began to subside, Phainon collapsed beside you, panting and satisfied, a satisfied grin on his face. “See? You really are my perfect little bunny.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[littelovelunette]

could you maybe do vi x reader, and vi buys an extra large dildo, and surprises reader with it? a little bit of cnc and size kink

So Small And Adorable For Me

Contains smut, size kink, cnc, strap, degradation

"Hey, lovely." Vi appeared behind you and wrapped her arms around you, her pierced nipples rubbed over your back through the thin fabric of her shirt and yours.

"What's up?" You asked as you turned to face her, grinning as the older woman kissed your nose and forehead right after.

"I have a surprise for you." Vi said as she grabbed your waist in a gentle grab, massaging the flesh beneath her hands.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" You asked as you took your apron off, putting it on the counter as you followed Vi out of the kitchen.

"Just... Something I wanna try out." Vi guided you to the bedroom and you saw a huge dildo waiting there on the bed for you. It was huge and transparent with ridges on it too.

"Vi, I think it might be a little too big." You whispered.

"You've taken similar ones before, you'll take this one too." Vi smiled at you ever so sweetly.

That's how you found yourself, hands tied with your ankles as you struggled and struggled. Vi walked into the bedroom, the huge dildo fixed on her harness. "You look perfect." Vi gently held the side of your thigh, dildo against your slit. "And you're so wet." She added.

"Vi, please." You whispered, shaking your head although your pussy betrayed your arousal. The silicone toy's tip pressed against your hole and slowly started sliding in.

It was big, the ridges scraping against your inner tender walls making you gasp and writhe against the ties in pain. "Vi, please, it hurts!" You cried and squirmed.

"Fuck, your cunt is swallowing it with ease though, such a slut." Vi smirked and kissed your clitoris before making all of the dildo stuff inside with one thrust of her hips.

"Ah! Please! Not so deep!" You begged and whined.

Vi didn't stop, starting to slowly pick up pace as her hands came down to knead your breasts with both hands.

Vi didn't stop, your cunt making squelching sounds as she thrusted in and out of your hole.

Wetness seeped out and onto the toy, drenching the sheets too as your toes curled from the immense pleasure.

"Too much..." You whimpered but it wasn't enough to stop Vi from fucking into you.

Vi's movements never relented. "You're moaning so loudly." She commented as she grabbed your face by the jaw and gave you a very sloppy kiss.

"Vi, it hurts..." You complained as Vi left a messy trail of saliva in her wake and whined as your legs trembled.

"You'll take what I give you. You're a good girl, aren't you?" Vi asked, pulling your nipples earning a loud moan.

"Yes, I am..." You whimpered.

Vi pressed her torso against yours as she gave the dildo harder and deeper strokes making it sink in so deep it made your eyes roll back.

"V-Vi..." Your face scrunched up as you came on the dildo making Vi grin. "Seems like you like it big."

"Sh-shut up..."

[littlestl4mb]

running errands with nerdy boyfriend luigi???? 😭

YURRRRR

to be honest, i think it would be luigi’s favorite thing to do with you. i think he’d really like the simplicity and domesticity of it. he doesn’t care much for going on fancy dinner dates, or going on expensive couple vacations together. no, those superficial milestone-markers that other couples like to boast, they don't do much for him. never have. instead, he finds happiness on a simple saturday morning in spring, when the air is still a little brisk but it’s teasing the approaching summer’s warmth. and most importantly, he’s on his way to see you. 

he’s got the biggest grin on his face as he’s walking up to your door. most nights you two spend together. whether he’s at your place or you’re at his place (i think he has a preference for spending the night at your place though. your home smells like you; lavender and vanilla. and he loves your cozy bedroom. he might criticize the excessive amount of pillows on your bed but he secretly loves flopping down onto them and napping). but last night you spent the night separated because you went to hang out with some friends and didn’t get back home until late, and he wanted to work on some program he’s been developing. safe to say, he missed you a lot. and it’s no secret you missed him either. 

when you open the door for him, he casually strolls in. 

“hi, gigi,” you hum and press a sweet kiss to his cheek, your hands full of the laundry that you’re about to throw into the washing machine. he grins sheepishly and blushes. no matter how much you kiss him, it always makes him a little flustered still. he shuts the door behind him, and then moves to the living room. he sets his backpack down, and then pulls out a little notepad in a very routine manner. you’re bumbling around the apartment, trying to tidy it up before you head out for the day. 

he starts writing a list of everything you usually do on saturdays together:

1. take car to car wash  2. get groceries for the week  3. drop box off at post office that y/n has procrastinated sending for the last 3 weeks. do NOT let her say “we can just do it next week” this time.

mid writing his list, he looks over at you and raises his eyebrows. “is there anything else we have to do today? or just the usual stuff?” he hums. 

you pause and put your hand on your hip as you think about it. 

“hmm. i don’t think…- oh yeah! i need to go to cvs and pick up some stuff too. ran out of face cream,” you nod your head. with a double click of his pen, he jots it down. 

“okay, what all do we have on the list?” you inquire, joining him by his side to look over his shoulder.

“i think i’m fine on groceries this week. can always get ‘em later if i need them. you can cross that off” you point at the second item on the list, your hands lightly resting on his shoulders. 

luigi guffaws, out of disbelief. though, he doesn’t say anything at first. instead, he stands up from the couch and turns the corner to the kitchen. the distinct rattling of the fridge door opening, followed by the thudding of the cabinet doors closing and opening is your answer to the question you didn’t ask. 

you see his hand poke out from the kitchen door, a graceful wave of his fingers beckons you forward. you already know the look on his face without having to see him. when you enter the modest kitchen, he has the refrigerator door propped open. a wrinkle in his forehead forms from his eyebrows being raised out of such skepticism.

“yeah, you don’t need to go to the grocery store, baby? there’s like, 5 cans of diet coke in here and some… nasty old bananas.” he frowns as his hand gestures to the mostly empty space in the fridge. 

“okay, fine, lu. we’ll go grocery shopping.” you huff. it’s an argument you’ve had one too many times already. one that you have never won, too. and well, you might not know everything, but you certainly know it’s no use arguing with an engineer. at least not about this.

“i’m driving” luigi deadpans while you two make your way out of your apartment. it’s no surprise, considering the fact that the man has been in the car with you one too many times where you’ve nearly totaled your car. there was the time you were driving into town, and a little puppy on the sidewalk caught your attention and you veered into another lane. that caused a slew of cars honk at you… oh, and there was the other time when you backed into a pole while parallel parking, which luckily only left a small scratch- but gave luigi a heart attack all the same. 

yeah, so long as luigi could help it, you were the designated passenger princess. 

“okay, fine. can we at least go get coffee first?” you pout up at him as he opens the passenger side door of his car for you. 

“well, yeah. thought that was a given,” he says as closes the door and gets in on his side. 

luigi also likes driving because he likes to compute the most simple and efficient route possible. he thinks of it as an equation. and you really don’t mind him being your personal chauffeur. where all you have to worry about is what songs you want to play next on the stereo. 

when you guys get to the post office after washing your car and getting coffee, luigi is the one who carries the box in for you. so all you have to do is tell the clerk the address you’re sending the package to. he does that often: carrying your things for you. when you go to bookstores, he carries around the pile of books you want to purchase on top of his own. and the same thing will probably happen later when you go to cvs; he’ll carry your little skincare products and bottles of vitamins for you too.

after you’ve finished up at the post office, luigi tugs out his little notebook. he checks off the post office, which is under the crossed out ‘1. go to car wash’. 

the next stop is indeed the pharmacy. luigi is doddling along your side, his eyes wide with curiosity as he looks over the multitude of face lotions. though, that doesn’t distract him from the topic at hand. he’s been prattling on about some substack article he read discussing AI today, and also a podcast that he listened to last night while he was up coding. most of the jargon he uses flies right over your head, but he does his best to explain it to you. and even though you still struggle to understand why it’s so important, you just like hearing him talk about something he’s so passionate about. you get a little smug smile on your face, and luigi quirks up an eyebrow and goes, “what?” 

all you can do in response is shake your head and look away, trying to suppress your coy grin with a small, “nothing.” 

“no, seriously. what are you smiling about? i know AI doesn’t make you this happy, baby,” 

“you’re right, it doesn’t. but i like hearing you talk about it. it’s cute,” you’d shrug. 

and luigi— really!— no matter how long you two’ve known each other, still gets bashful sometimes when you compliment him out of the blue. he’s got that nerd in him, after all. 

and after you’ve finished at the pharmacy, you make your last stop for the day: target. you convince luigi to go there instead of the boring grocery store. much to luigi’s protest too— he knows it’s an excuse to mingle through aisles of things you don’t really need. ‘going to target instead of the actual grocery store decreases our percentage of efficiency so much, y/n’ he usually groans. but for him, he knows that argument is the losing one. something he’ll never win on because you’re stubborn. and you’re cute when you’re pouting and begging him too with those big rounded out eyes of yours. plus, he thinks it’s endearing when you bumble through aisles and pick up random things and show them off to him as if its the most fascinating thing in the world. and anyways, if you two are really on a tight schedule, he’ll pull out the boyfriend move of jokingly placing his hand on the scruff of your neck while directing you towards where you’re supposed to go.

but you two have all the time in the world today, so he pushes the cart for you as you guide him down the candle aisle 

“gigi, what do you think of this one?” you ask as you push the dark red jar towards his face. the overtly ‘chai latte’ candle overwhelms his senses. with a scrunch of his nose and exaggerated cough, he shakes his head.

“god no. too much. plus, i like your lavender and vanilla one more. smells more like you.” 

 you hum in acknowledgment as you pull back the candle to smell again. maybe, he did have a point. 

“mm fine. guess you’re right.” you pout out your bottom lip before setting the candle back down on the shelf. 

and then you’re finally shuffling off to the grocery aisles, luigi pushing the cart alongside you. strolling through the aisles of food, you’ve managed to pick up a few things. a box of flavored instant oatmeal, some pasta for easy dinners, and a bag of chocolate for morale sit in the cart.

luigi’s eyes glance down at the items. his jaw is tense, his cheekbone hollowed out while the weight of his tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek. he’s unamused, if his facial expression is anything to go by. 

“so when are you going to pick up actual food?” his question almost cuts like a knife. it’s not that he tries to sound so brute, but sometimes he just comes across that way when he’s being so direct. it’s the italian in him.

“what are you talking about? this is plenty fine, luigi.” you roll your eyes at him.

“what am i talking about? even the comp sci geeks i know eat more regular meals than you do. you need some actual nutrients. you eat like a canary.” he tuts. he juts his chin forwards and to the side as an indication for you to step out of the way. 

speechless, you do. luigi proceeds down the aisle towards the produce section. contempt with your efforts so far, he helps himself to grabbing a bushel of broccoli, a bag of baby carrots too, and a few apples, yogurts, and protein bars to boot.

you roll your eyes at him, “yeah, well now it looks like i eat like a rabbit” you point to the baby carrots and broccoli. luigi snorts at that, and then nods in agreement. 

“well you do look like a bunny. so it’s kind of fitting,” he quips, but his tone is more lighthearted and soft now. 

your foot stomps in protest at his joke, “do not!” 

“yeah, see? you even stomp like one when you’re angry,” he laughs, his grin only growing. 

with a sigh of defeat, you shake your head and give him a “fine, whatever”. 

and once luigi is content with the amount of groceries in the cart, he finally directs you two to the checkout. he pulls out his own card to pay for them, because he has that kind of sense and need to take care of you. plus, it only seems fair because he almost always comes over and snacks on whatever is in your fridge himself. 

when you two finally get home after the few hours spent out and about, it’s a relief. he puts your things away for you in the fridge and pantry. he has a very specific categorization of how he does it- each corner of the fridge has it’s own category. he makes a simple dinner for you two afterwards (probably some pasta with roasted veggies). 

the rest of the evening is spent on your couch while he works on his code and you read a book. your feet draped over his lap. for your own amusement, you knock your feet against his hands just to pester him. he always quips back with a “stop that.” oh, and every once in awhile you take a pause and sit up to leer over his shoulder and look at whatever he’s working on. he probably tries to teach you a little bit of code too, which usually goes south pretty quickly and both of you end up bursting into giggles <3333

[babybearnation]

lando + fluff: baking together/cooking for him n making sure you don't use any of the foods he doesn't like and lando is just all heart-eyed, mushy?

oh i wanna take such good care of him 😭

lando norris x gn!reader (cooking/baking headcanons)

you knew, even before you started dating lando, that he was picky about foods

you always tried to get him into various different snacks but most attempts ended in failure

when you started dating, however, you knew you had to make sure to cook the right things for him

and you started off by asking him for his favourite things and for the things he'd absolutely refuse to eat

the first time lando comes over for dinner, you work hard to follow a recipe that you'd gotten from his mother

lando loves it and he ends up begging to help with the cooking process next time

whilst you are lowkey reluctant, you do eventually agree to have him help

so, the next time you two have an at home dinner date, lando arrives early and the two of you cook together

it mostly goes well

you send him to get something from your fridge when he notices the fish and almost screams

you tell him to grow up and to get the ingredient otherwise he can go hungry

he eventually agrees but he's so grumpy about it because why on earth do you have fish in your house?!

after dinner, you offer to make some stroopwaffles and lando perks up at that

he's always down for a sweet treat and one made by your hands?

he already knows theyre gonna be perfect

you two get to work and your previous fears about lando being too chaotic for your kitchen prove to be true

it's chaotic

lando is trying to eat raw ingredients

he keeps begging for things to hurry up and you have to tell him that you can't make it go any quicker

there are stains all over your sides

lando even has stains on himself and you're so baffled as to how

eventually they are ready & lando stuffs one in his mouth straight away, making odd noises when it scolds him

you can't help but roll your eyes fondly at him because of that

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[dichenlachmandaily]

Spoilers follow for Severance season two episode seven, “Chikhai Bardo.”

No, “Chikhai Bardo” isn’t a bottle episode. Instead, Severance gave us something even better: answers. Tragic but legitimate answers. The latest episode confirms Gemma (Dichen Lachman) is alive and being held against her will on one of Lumon’s severed floors, having gotten there, as we see through flashbacks, after being marked by one of the company’s doctors (Robby Benson) at a fertility clinic. The episode bounces around the highs and lows of Mark (Adam Scott) and Gemma’s relationship — their meet-cute at a university blood donation drive, their surprisingly enjoyable dinners with Devon and Ricken, her miscarriage — interspersed with scenes of Gemma’s captive life following a car crash implied to be staged by the company. Inside Lumon, Gemma’s life is overseen by a nurse (Sandra Bernhard), who marches her through a rotation of severed doors and into rooms where her various Innies are forced to endure scenarios with Benson’s doctor that range from the annoying to the traumatic.

When Gemma’s mad dash of an escape plan — knocking the doctor unconscious and briefly reembodying Ms. Casey on another severed floor — fails at episode’s end, she seemingly resigns herself to a prisoner’s existence without parole. Lachman believes her character still has hope of being released and reuniting with her husband when the experiment concludes. “But they’re always changing the rules of the game for her,” she says. “They just keep moving the goalposts.”

As someone of the belief that Gemma was brain-dead and living as a subconscious entity, it was lovely to see her alive despite the awful circumstances surrounding her existence. When I read season one, I had that theory too. I didn’t quite understand what was happening. I was like, Has her brain been affected and they’re trying to rebuild her?

Did you know Gemma would get her own stand-alone episode when you first started filming Severance? I definitely wasn’t aware in season one that this would happen. As the scripts for season two started coming in, I was like, Oh, okay. I’m not in this episode, and I’m not in the next one. Did I do something wrong? Then Dan Erickson talked me through how it was going to play out. It was really exciting. At the same time, I felt a lot of pressure. I didn’t want to let the fans down. This is obviously something they’ve been waiting for. I was really scared.

What scared you the most?Having to jump between lighter and darker moments, and the scope of it was so large. Knowing we’d have a very limited time to do it and then doing the flashbacks on film. I know Jessica Lee Gagné, the director, had always envisioned using film and it was her goal. When I started my career, we used to shoot on film all the time, but then digital became the preferred medium because it never ends and there’s more freedom. With film, there’s only so much; you could run out in the middle of a scene. You don’t want to make a mistake because it’s an actual, physical thing an image is getting printed onto.

The big connection we get this episode is when Lumon’s doctor spots Gemma at a fertility clinic before her car accident. His eyes linger on her for a beat, but Gemma and Mark don’t clock him in the waiting area. Oh, you got that?

Not the first time!I’m so glad.

Can you tell me a bit about how this scene was staged?Jessica has been integral to setting the tone and mood of Severance. She’s phenomenally talented and has such a unique eye, but she’s really good at doing things subtly. That scene had a lot of technical stuff. One of the great things about that moment is that even though the shots, framing, and camerawork are really technical — more than I’ve ever done in my entire life on any show — it always goes back to how they can keep it real and grounded among all of that chaos. There was a lot of stuff they had to do and capture so the audience could have that little moment, which is so subtle, so I’m impressed you picked up on it. I just remember focusing on what Gemma was feeling and us talking about the mood and temperament.

Given what we learn about this doctor throughout the episode, what did you infer about the motivations behind Gemma’s staged death? Did this man target her specifically because of a weird infatuation, or is a fertility clinic just an ideal location for Lumon to scope out potential subjects? That fertility clinic is a place where they have access to people’s biometric data. I suppose it’s the perfect place to zone in on a target. The whole world they live in is filled with Lumon employees, businesses, and stuff like that. I have my own fan theories, but I think what you said — a place where they’re getting people’s blood and their DNA — is probably the best theory.

The other person Gemma interacts with is Sandra Bernhard’s nurse. How would you define their relationship? Are there any sympathies there? In my mind, her nurse has been there for a while. Sandra brought an incredible warmth to that role, even in playing a captor. She brought almost a motherly feeling to it even though it’s still very cold, controlled, and oppressive down there. Maybe it’s just her eyes. Or maybe she was working on something with the character that I wasn’t aware of, but their dynamic is really interesting. I think she has compassion for Gemma. She’s just doing her job, but there’s a humanity to her.

Inside those rooms, Gemma’s Innies are forced to play out different scenarios: A dental patient getting work done, a passenger in a crashing airplane, and a wife at Christmas forced to write thank-you notes. The doctor inquired if Gemma felt “despair” after leaving any of them. How do you view what this experiment is trying to accomplish? I think it’s leaning into something that’s happening within our culture, which is that we don’t want to experience anything unpleasant. To some degree, I totally understand. In season one, you have the birthing center. That’s one of the most painful things you could experience in your whole life — I would know. What if you could delegate that experience to someone so you didn’t have to go through the pain? Even though, as a human being, there’s some ownership of that. Going through it and having a connection to the child is so beautiful. But we kind of want to get on a prescription of not having to suffer. If you think of it from a pharmaceutical point of view, it’s like, “We’re just taking it up a notch. You hate going to the dentist? We’ve got you. We’ll send somebody else, but you’ll still be going to the dentist.” Or having the fear of flying. I know Dan loathes writing thank-you notes — not because he’s ungrateful but because sometimes it’s so hard to figure out what to say to express your gratitude. I’ve done this before when I’ve worked on a movie: I’ve written 80 thank-you notes to all the crew members and they all start sounding the same. You lose your creativity, and you’re struggling to figure out a way to say “thank you” in a different way so that if someone reads someone else’s card, they’re not like, Oh, this isn’t personal. It says the same thing.

So you don’t view this technology as being strictly malicious in intent? Yeah. It could go further, of course. That’s the thing with technology: The intention is always to make someone’s life a little bit easier. Then it becomes integrated into our life. Everything is a double-edged sword. It’s our job as human beings to try and find the balance. We’re in a world where we have AI and robots. We’re creating a world where we don’t even need to exist, in a way. What’s really cool about the show is it gets people to ask themselves about their relationship to technology or their relationship to having contrast in their life. You don’t get to experience pleasure, joy, or something that tastes really amazing if you don’t get the sad moments, too. When you’re severed, you don’t have contrast. The weekend isn’t as good because you’re perpetually experiencing only the good things. Those good feelings just become feelings and are not special anymore.

You get one of the best lines of the season when Gemma is being examined by that doctor after visiting some of the rooms: “Can you please just talk like a normal person?” She’s saying what viewers are thinking, and it made me laugh.The whole language is a bit culty. They have their own way of communicating. The words they use are so bizarre. I tried reading that line in many different ways and played with intensity. It was stretching me as an artist. I’ve never had the opportunity to explore and collaborate as much as I did on this show. I could have said “Can you please just talk like a normal person?” 15 or 16 times, maybe more, and every time it would’ve been a little different.

Did you get the sense Gemma had tried to escape before? There’s this comment Mr. Drummond gives the doctor midway through the episode about how she once tried to break his fingers. It struck me as very fight-or-flight. Yes. I picked up on that same line when I was reading the script. Jessica and I talked about it a lot. I think every now and then, Gemma has been like, Screw it. I’m going to go for it. I don’t care if I have to hit him over the head or break his hand. Then there are days where she feels like it’s pointless, but then she’ll get pushed and pushed harder and she’ll try again. She’ll never be able to escape. Her tolerance level will go back to baseline, and it’ll build up and she’ll try again.

We’ve seen how people involved in the severance program can be driven to madness; Helly tries to kill herself in the first season. Where does Gemma find the strength to continue on in this prison of a life? Based on the scenes she has with the doctor just before she hits him over the head, I feel like there’s been some promises made: “Oh, you just have to do this and that”; “Look, it’s for your own good”; “Now you just have to get through this.”

How many takes did you get to whack Robby with a chair? Was it oddly satisfying?You know what? That’s something we didn’t do as many times as some of the other scenes. It wasn’t too complicated. Robby is such an amazing person. He was lying on the floor for hours, just so dedicated to this role he was playing. The man is a machine. I felt really bad. I’m like, “Oh, Robby, I’m sorry.” It was just about getting the chair at the right angle so that we could sell it, because obviously I couldn’t hit him over the head.

At one point, Gemma directly asks the doctor what will happen when her Innie “sees all of the rooms.” What do you think will happen?Gemma thinks that when she’s done, she’ll get out of there and be free. That’s what she wants. Ultimately, toward the end, she resigns herself to being there. When she comes out of the elevator, knowing her escape plan didn’t work, she feels so broken. Well, that’s it. I’m never going to get out of here. That’s why she has to be picked up off the floor by Sandra’s character. In my head, when she’s tried to escape previously, she’s probably fought them all on the way out. Like, What am I doing back here? But when she falls to the floor into a puddle, calling Mark’s name, it’s just like, I can’t anymore. There’s nothing else I can do.

You previously portrayed a multiverse-programmed character in Dollhouse, which shares a few creative parallels to Severance. Your work in Altered Carbon also explored how consciousness can be “resleeved” into different bodies. What makes you excel at portraying so many distinctive personas in one human? Maybe I willed it into my life because I love exploring these concepts, I love science fiction, and I absolutely feel like it’s somewhere where my creativity thrives. I feel so blessed that I’ve gotten to do it in different eras. Altered Carbon is hundreds of years in the future, where severance technology has completely changed the way people live and given them the ability to live forever. Dollhouse is more contemporary. Severance is this timeless era. It’s quite strange and weird.

[eternallyordinary]

"He Belongs to You" - Part 2

Summary: A high-profile photoshoot should be simple, but with Homelander by your side, how can it be? Tension rises, boundaries blur, and you're left questioning whether his protectiveness is too much—or exactly what you want.

Warnings: obsession, possessive behavior, power imbalance, mild violence, harassment, implied dark themes, mild smut

Part 1<3

Part 3 <3

Part 4<3

Part 5<3

The break room hums with quiet conversation as you take another sip of coffee, the warmth soothing against your palms. Homelander is still beside you, watching—always watching. His stare lingers, just as heavy as the unspoken thoughts behind it.

You giggle softly, the sound breaking through the charged air between you.

But before he can respond, the door bursts open.

“Hey, hey, new superstar!” Ashley.

She strides in, clipboard in hand, her usual manic energy filling the room. She barely glances at Homelander, doing a double take when she notices how relaxed he looks. What’s the catch?

“And… hey, Homelander…” she adds, clearly confused.

Her gaze darts between the two of you before snapping back to you with a forced grin. “Honey, my newest prodigy, you’ve got a photoshoot in thirty. Remember? Lucky for you, hair and makeup are done. But we need to get you changed—got a whole rack of outfits for you.”

She pauses, grimacing. “Or… lack thereof. Not a lot of fabric. More like… nipple covers.” She shrugs. “This is for Sports Illustrated. They’re really expecting you to skyrocket their sales. No one your age buys magazines anymore, ya know? You’re doing them a huge favor!”

Homelander raises a brow at her words, his gaze flicking to you.

“Sports Illustrated, huh?” His tone is unreadable, but there’s an edge lurking beneath the surface. His eyes trail over your form, his mind already working overtime. He imagines it—you in a skimpy, barely-there swimsuit, all curves and smooth skin, posing for the cameras while the world drinks you in.

His jaw tightens.

You don’t belong to the world. You belong to him.

“Oh, sorry, Ashley. I’ll be right there,” you say, standing up. Then, without thinking, you turn to Homelander. “Can he come?”

Homelander blinks.

You asked if he could come. You wanted him there.

A surge of satisfaction rises in his chest, his ego swelling. He owns this place, yet you still asked—like it was a privilege for him to be included.

But another thought creeps in—can he even control himself watching you parade around in almost nothing? Would he even want to?

He chuckles, amused by your innocence. “Sure, darling,” he says, voice smooth but laced with something darker. “I’d love to.”

Ashley hesitates. “Uh. Yeah. Great. Homelander can come. Let’s go.”

Homelander follows close behind as you’re led toward the photoshoot area, his presence a constant shadow.

Your dressing room is compact yet undeniably lavish—soft lighting, a sleek couch, and a privacy screen that serves no real purpose against his vision. Homelander steps inside, fully expecting you to ask him to leave. Maybe even insist on some privacy.

A part of him almost wants you to. Because if you don’t? He’s not sure he trusts himself.

Instead, you hold up two different bikinis, both tiny. Too tiny.

"Which one do you think?"

He almost laughs. How are you so unaware of what you’re doing to him?

His gaze sweeps over the barely-there swimsuits, then over you.

"Well, well, well," he drawls, stepping closer. "Look who's getting all fancy."

His fingers brush over the lace of one, his touch slow, deliberate. He should leave. He knows that. But the thought of stepping away, of not seeing you in this—impossible.

His smirk deepens. "Why don’t you try this one on first, darling? Even though we both know you look good in anything."

You nod, and you can't help but blush. "Okay."

You step behind the privacy screen, then suddenly peek your head out.

"I know you can, like, see through walls and stuff. So close your eyes. Promise?"

Homelander chuckles, thoroughly entertained. You’re adorable. Like a lamb asking the wolf not to look.

"I promise," he hums, closing his eyes.

It’s hell.

He can hear everything. The rustle of fabric as you slide out of your clothes. The soft hitch of your breath. The shift of your body as you adjust the straps, bare skin brushing against fabric that leaves nothing to the imagination.

His hands flex at his sides, his mind racing.

Then you speak. “Actually… I can’t tie the top. Can you help me?”

Homelander’s eyes snap open.

And there you are—standing before him, barely covered, utterly breathtaking.

His jaw clenches, tension coiling deep in his chest.

It takes every ounce of restraint not to remind you what happens when you tease a man like him.

You turn, holding your hair up, waiting for him to tie the strings.

And it’s over. He's done for.

The bikini is practically a thong. Is this what you’re going to wear in front of the world? He wants to scream.

He exhales slowly, trying to maintain control. His hands tremble slightly as he grabs the strings, knuckles grazing the soft, warm skin of your back.

This isn’t just lust.

It’s something worse.

It’s need.

Ashley’s voice snaps him out of it.

“You ready or what?!”

Then he hears it—Ashley whispering outside the door.

"Why the fuck is he in there with her? Are they fucking already? Get crisis management on this. We need to cover our bases in case this goes public. I mean, I guess they’d be a good PR couple? I don’t fucking know. He's 20 years older than her for fuck sake. Our goal was to make him a father figure to her. Not a fucking DADDY."

PR couple?

No.

You’re not a fucking publicity stunt.

You’re his.

He yanks the strings tighter than necessary, finishing the knot. He can't risk your perfect breasts spilling out of your top.

“All done,” he mutters darkly.

You beam at him, oblivious to the storm inside his head.

“How do I look?”

Homelander exhales sharply.

“You look…” He stops himself. Careful. “Amazing.”

You throw on a cardigan, slipping into your Uggs. Before leaving, you pause in the doorway.

"Are you coming? If you can’t, it’s okay. I just feel… awkward."

Homelander doesn’t hesitate.

"I’m coming."

Of course he is.

Because there’s no fucking way he’s letting you out of his sight now.

The moment you step onto set, a voice cuts through the room.

“Alright, everyone, make way for—” The photographer stops mid-sentence. His eyes widen. His gaze devours you.

"Holy fuck. You are so fucking hot. This is perfect."

Homelander’s stomach turns.

“I want these pics to be fire,” the director continues. “I want us to smell the cum of middle-aged men dribbling off the pages.”

The room goes silent.

Homelander’s hands curl into fists.

You gently tug his arm before he can rip the director’s spine out. “It’s okay,” you whisper.

Then, the music starts—Pornstar by Nessa Barrett.

Fucking perfect.

This isn’t just a nightmare. It’s torture.

The song, the poses, the way you move—it all belongs in his bed, under him, for him.

Maybe he’ll make you pay for this later. Or maybe…

Maybe he’ll just kill the photographer, Ashley, and every other idiot who thought they had the right to put you on display like this.

You move effortlessly, posing with confidence.

He then realizes - you aren’t doing this for them. Not for the cameras. Not even for him.

And that drives him insane. It makes his cock even harder.

As the shoot wraps, Homelander’s sharp ears catch the photographer’s vile murmur—low, smug, and utterly disgusting.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy. Might have to keep a few of these for myself… if you know what I mean.”

The moment the words leave the photographer’s mouth, the air in the room shifts.

Homelander’s smile vanishes.

In an instant, he’s right there, towering over the man, his presence suffocating. The photographer barely has time to react before Homelander tilts his head, a slow, unsettling grin creeping across his face—one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“What was that?” His voice is calm. Too calm.

The photographer swallows hard, his smirk faltering. “Uh—I just meant—”

“You just meant,” Homelander cuts him off, his tone deceptively light, “that you thought you could talk about her like that?”

Your stomach twists.

You weren’t used to this—this possessive, overbearing protectiveness. It’s almost too much. Embarrassment creeps up your neck as the entire room silently watches, waiting to see what he’ll do.

But… you don’t hate it.

Not completely.

The way he steps between you and the photographer, the way his presence alone makes the man’s face drain of color—it sends a shiver down your spine.

Homelander leans in, voice dropping to something just above a whisper—low, venomous, and dangerously amused.

“See… I don’t like the way you’re looking at her. I don’t like the way you’re talking about her.” His eyes darken, a sickening smile stretching across his lips. “And I sure as fuck don’t like imagining what’s going on in that pathetic little brain of yours.”

The photographer’s breath quickens. “I-I didn’t mean any disrespect—”

Homelander claps a heavy hand on his shoulder, his grip bruising. “Didn’t you?” His voice is mocking, his fingers tightening just enough to make the man wince. “Because to me? It sounded like you wanted to be funny.”

A beat of silence. The tension is unbearable.

You shift awkwardly.

You should stop this. Tell Homelander it’s fine, that you can handle yourself.

But… you don’t.

Because deep down, in a place you don’t want to examine too closely—having him react like this for you? Having him ready to kill for you?

It makes your pulse race in a way it shouldn’t. It makes your center throb.

“Do you think you’re funny?” Homelander whispers, voice dripping with something feral.

The photographer frantically shakes his head. “N-no, sir—”

“Good,” Homelander purrs, his grip lingering for just a moment longer before shoving him back a step.

He straightens, smoothing out his cape, and flashes a charming, empty smile. “Because next time? I won’t be so nice.”

The photographer nods rapidly, sweat beading at his temple.

Homelander barely gives him another glance before turning back to you, his expression softening instantly.

Your body flushes at the shift in his demeanor—like he wasn’t just threatening to end a man.

“C’mon, darling,” he murmurs, placing your cardigan over your shoulders with a gentleness that doesn’t make sense. “Let’s get out of here.”

You should say something.

You should call him out for overreacting, for making you feel like a damsel in distress.

Instead, you swallow hard and nod, letting him guide you toward the exit.

Because even if it embarrasses you, even if it confuses you—

You like it.

And that’s the most dangerous part of all.

[kikyoupdates]

Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟽

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

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“Come here, little ducks. I’ve got a bunch of yummy seeds for you guys to eat.” 

You crouch down, leaning closer to the edge of the lake as you scatter seeds across the water’s surface. They all come flocking around, trying to gather the food up as quickly as they can.

“They like it,” you beam towards Liam. “Good idea bringing all these seeds along. It’s been a while since I got to do something like this.” 

Liam smiles back. “Don’t mention it. You look like you’re having fun.” 

“Mhm! I love animals. They’re so cute and interesting. And even if we don’t completely understand them, it’s cool how they find different ways of communicating with us.” 

“Yeah, there’s all kinds of crazy stuff going on in the animal kingdom. Animals are a lot smarter than some people give them credit for.” Liam pauses for a moment, then sheepishly scratches his head. “When I was younger I actually wanted to become a veterinarian. But obviously there’s a lot of work that goes into that sort of thing. Even if I went to university, I’m not sure I would’ve had what it takes.” 

Axel leans over his boyfriend’s shoulder and pouts. “Don’t say that, babe. You’re super smart. You always learn things way faster than I do. I bet you could have easily done it. And it’s never too late to start, right?” 

“It’s fine,” Liam chuckles, tousling Axel’s hair. “It’s not like I’m not happy with my current career. I was just imagining another outcome, that’s all.” 

“Well, if you ever find something else you want to try, I’ll be right behind you. You should be able to do whatever makes you happy.” 

Axel wraps his arms around Liam and gives him a big hug, and even though this date is technically supposed to be between all three of you, you can’t help but feel like you’re slightly out of place. They’ve just got such a sweet and lovey-dovey relationship. It’s enough to make you blush. 

“Thanks for saying you’d support me,” Liam smiles. He squeezes Axel’s hand, then crouches down beside you. “Anyways, I didn’t mean to go off on a tangent. I just wanted to say I really like animals too. Oh!” 

His eyes widen, and at first you’re not sure why, but then you follow his gaze and realize that one of the smaller ducks has decided to climb out of the water. It stands up on its cute webbed feet, spends a few moments shaking its tail feathers off, then proceeds to tilt its head at you and stare. 

“I think it might want to say hi,” Liam whispers, being careful not to scare the duck off. 

“That or it wants more birdseed,” you whisper back. 

“Ah. Yeah, that’s probably it.” 

“I’ve heard ducks can be pretty aggressive, you know,” Axel remarks to no one in particular. You notice that he’s not getting close to the duck like you and Liam. He’s probably not that big on animals.

“You’re probably thinking of geese,” Liam dismisses. 

“Nah, ducks too. I’ve definitely heard that they can get really territorial and stuff.” 

“Is that why you’re standing so far back? Because you’re scared of this one little duck?” 

“...no.” 

Axel crosses his arms and frowns, but he still doesn’t step up, so honestly, it’s not too convincing. 

You and Liam exchange knowing looks, even chuckling a few times under your breaths, but before you can consider teasing Axel any more, the duck walks right up to you and lets out a proud, resounding quack. 

“Aww,” you gush. “Look at this cutie.” 

“He’s adorable,” Liam nods in agreement. “Here, little guy. We’ve still got lots of seeds left for you.” 

Both of you hold out hands filled with birdseed. The duck takes a moment to ponder its options, then starts pecking at the seeds directly from your palm. You giggle at the sensation of its beak nuzzling your skin. 

“Damn, lucky!” Liam whines. “I want to feed him too.” 

“We can take turns. Here, I’ll pull my hand away so he can go over to you next.” 

You do just that, and unsurprisingly, the duck heads directly towards the nearest source of food. Liam’s eyes are practically glowing with excitement as he watches the duck happily eat straight from his hand. 

Axel shakes his head. “Man. Aren’t you guys scared he’ll bite your fingers off?” 

“Ducks don’t have teeth, Axel,” Liam sighs. He gives you a look that seems to say, ‘Sorry about him. He’s hardly a duck connoisseur.’ 

“But they can still bite, I’m pretty sure.” 

“Are you seriously scared of ducks? How am I just now finding out about this?” 

“Pfft.” You giggle and tentatively reach a hand out while Liam feeds the duck, and as chance as would have it, the duck sits still and lets you pet its back (much to Axel’s horror). 

Honestly, if it was up to just you and Liam, you probably would have played with the ducks for an absurd amount of time, but you feel bad that Axel isn’t being included in this activity, so you suggest doing something else. 

“That was fun, but you mentioned wanting to get something to eat, right?” 

“Yes,” Axel says, exhaling loudly. “Yes, finally. No more ducks. I don’t want to see any more ducks ever again.” 

Liam shakes his head. “I still can’t believe my boyfriend is scared of ducks.” 

“I already said I’m not scared of them! Anyways, whatever! Let’s just go!” 

He storms off comically, and once again, you and Liam proceed to look at each other and burst out laughing.

You walk back the way you came from and eventually leave the park. Axel already seems to have a few places in mind for where you can go to grab food, and he looks excited to voice his suggestions. 

“This place has really good reviews,” Axel beams as he swings the front door open. 

“I’m sure it’ll be great. You always know how to pick them,” Liam encourages. Axel nods happily and steps inside the restaurant, and while his back is turned, Liam leans in to whisper in your ear. “Please just humor him. Even if the food’s bad, try not to let it show. He gets really bummed out about these kinds of things.” 

So, he’s scared of ducks and also gets all pouty when things don’t go his way. That’s kind of cute.

You sit down at one of the booths and start skimming through the menu. Thankfully, it looks pretty promising. Odds are that everything will taste great and Axel’s feelings will be spared.

You end up being seated right in between Axel and Liam, which feels a bit strange, since it’s sort of like you’re acting as a barrier between the couple. They seem fine with it though, and you suppose this is supposed to be a date involving you as well. So far it’s felt more like hanging out with your friends, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, especially since you’re getting paid on top of everything else. 

“What are you gonna get, [Name]?” 

Axel leans over, bumping shoulders with you in the process. The booth is big enough for the three of you to sit comfortably, but he isn’t shy about getting close. The lack of distance makes your face heat up a little bit. These guys really are way too attractive for their own good. 

“I’m not sure yet,” you admit, hoping it’s not too obvious that you’re blushing. “What about you? Have you already decided?” 

“Sure have,” he grins. “I’m getting the steak. And the ribs. And the spicy hot wings.”

That’s a lot of protein…

“Axel has a big appetite,” Liam says, flipping through the menu. “I keep telling him he eats way too much meat and needs more variety in his diet, but he doesn’t listen.” 

“How is my fault that meat tastes so good?” 

“Your body’s going to hate you one day when you’re not young and fit. I also don’t understand how your skin always looks so nice, even with all the junk you eat.” Liam sighs and lightly pats his cheeks. “Meanwhile, I break out constantly if I’m not careful.”

“Being a model full-time sure sounds difficult,” you frown. “I obviously don’t know all the details, but I’ve heard it’s really hard always staying in perfect shape.” 

“It depends. Some people you work with are more lenient than others, but yeah. I’ve definitely met my fair share of assholes that made me adhere to ridiculous standards. That’s just the industry, though. It’s super competitive, so you need to be willing to go above and beyond. Which is why I’m getting a salad today.” 

“He works so hard,” Axel sniffles. “I would literally kill myself if I ever had to eat a salad.” 

You chuckle, but in all honesty, you doubt he was kidding.

Eventually, you figure out what you want to eat, and soon enough, the server comes back with all your orders. Axel’s dishes alone cover the majority of the table. Setting aside the fact that it’s literally just meat, the sheer quantity that he’s about to consume is enough to make you feel ill.

You decide to avoid looking at his side of the table and just focus on yourself.

“It’s good,” you remark, and you’re not just saying that to make Axel happy. The food is good. Going to this restaurant was the right decision after all. 

“My salad’s really good too,” Liam nods. 

“How good can it possibly be? It’s a salad,” Axel shudders, as if merely uttering the word causes him immense pain. 

Liam shoots him a pointed glare out of the corner of his eye, and Axel proceeds to take a big bite out of his ribs, unbothered. Meanwhile, you struggle to hide the smile spreading across your lips. Being with these two is a lot of fun. 

“Oh. [Name], you’ve got a little something on your face,” Axel suddenly remarks. 

“I do?” 

Your face reddens. How embarrassing. You’re not usually a messy eater, which is why you’re surprised to see Axel reaching towards you with a napkin. You squeeze your eyes shut so he can gently pat the napkin across the corners of your mouth.

“Th-Thanks,” you say. “I appreciate it.” 

Axel grins. “It’s no big deal. There were only a few crumbs. I just wanted to try doing that. So, now it’s your turn, right?” 

He gestures towards the little patches of sauce on his face, which you were debating telling him about, but he clearly seems aware. It’s no surprise he’s made a mess, considering the loaded meal he’s been chowing down on.

You chuckle softly. “Alright, then. Hold still so I can clean this up for you.” 

Axel beams at you, clearly happy as can be. He didn’t initially strike you as the type who enjoys being spoiled, but then again, he’s scared of ducks and refuses to eat vegetables, so perhaps it’s not all that surprising. 

Your back is turned towards Liam the whole while, so it goes without saying that you don’t notice the pained look in his eyes.

“All done,” you say, and Axel sighs disappointedly. 

“That felt so nice,” he whines. “Will you play with my hair later? I love it when Liam plays with my hair.” 

“I can just do that for you at home,” Liam suggests, a slight desperation in his voice. 

“But I want [Name] to do it for me,” Axel insists. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close while grinning. “[Name]’s so cute and nice. I can’t believe you’re not actually dating someone for real. People are seriously missing out.” 

You blush again. The flattery is practically nonstop with this guy. Well, you suppose you aren’t complaining, and it's nice to know that he’s having a good day. 

“...yeah. She’s really cute and nice,” Liam mumbles in agreement. He smiles at you, briefly, then turns away and starts poking at his salad. 

For just a second, his expression looked a bit off. Were you imagining it? 

“Man, I don’t want today to end,” Axel sighs, still hugging you. “I can’t wait for us to do this again. You’re fine with that, right, [Name]? You’d be open to seeing us again?” 

“Of course,” you nod. “I’ve been having a great day. You two are a lot of fun to be around. What about you, Liam? Would you want to do this again sometime?” 

Liam freezes up. Once again, he’s surprised that you’re bothering to check with him. He’s so used to Axel leading the conversation. He’s got a big personality and has a tendency to sweep everyone up in his own pace. 

But you were right to ask him. Initially, Axel said this would only be a one time thing, and he agreed to it just to make him happy. However, it’s clear now that he isn’t comfortable doing this. You’re a great person, and he genuinely enjoys being around you, but he’s not sure he can ever imagine sharing his boyfriend with someone else. It’s nothing personal. It’s just… not something he feels okay doing. 

So, he needs to be vocal about this and tell Axel how he feels. Surely then, he’ll understand. The fact that he was willing to even try should already count for something. It has to. 

Liam offers you an appreciative look, then turns towards Axel.

“I’m—” 

“Liam wants to do this again too. Of course he does,” Axel says, waving his hand and practically dismissing him before he can get a word in. “We talked about it before. And he would’ve told me if he wasn’t having a good time.” 

Liam desperately tries to hide the shock on his face. 

What? He… never promised anything. All he said was that he would try this out and make his decision afterwards. Why is Axel acting like it’s already a sure thing that he’ll want to keep going?

“Today’s been great,” Axel hums. He leans up against you, shoving your body closer to Liam’s and effectively pushing you into his arms. “Going on a date is way more fun with all three of us. Right, Liam?” 

Axel finally meets Liam’s gaze, and the look in his eyes is so painfully expectant that Liam can’t think of a way to refuse. He knows he should. He’s an adult, with his own voice and his own opinions. But for some reason… it feels wrong. It feels like he’s not allowed to do what he wants and risk upsetting Axel in the process. 

Liam hasn’t had a relationship worth protecting until now. He’s only dated losers, assholes, or shitty girls who went behind his back and cheated on him. That’s why he’s so afraid. He’s afraid that saying the wrong words will ruin the best thing that ever happened to him.

And so, he buckles.

“Yeah,” Liam smiles. He’s used to forcing a smile. He does it for work all the time. “It’s been a lot of fun. We should definitely do this again.” 

You stare at him long and hard. Part of you still gets this strange feeling, this feeling that he isn’t being completely transparent. But you’re not the one who can make this choice for him, and he’s had every opportunity to come forward with the truth. 

“Great,” you smile back. “I’m happy to hear it.”

Axel lets out a happy cheer, and even leans across the booth so that he can pull Liam into his arms as well. Between the three of you, it’s hot, stuffy, and there’s not much wiggle room, but Axel seems to be loving every moment of it.

Liam’s eyes lower to the ground.  

It’s okay. Just one more time. He’ll go on just one more date, and then he’ll tell Axel how he really feels. 

Definitely.

It’s late. Normally, at this time of the night, you would be curled up inside your apartment, either doing homework, watching TV, or scrolling mindlessly through your phone. It’s nearly time for you to be going to bed, but instead of sitting comfortably at home, you’re standing out in the chilly night air, dressed in a skirt that you grossly underestimated how short it is. 

And what’s the reason for all of this? 

Your job, of course. 

“[Name]! Hell yeah, you actually made it,” Callum grins. 

He walks over to greet you in a hug, but you’re too preoccupied with shivering from your poor choice of dress, so you give him a half-hearted fist bump instead. 

There’s a party on campus tonight. Well, there’s probably several parties on campus, but this is the one that Callum invited you to, because he heard that Nadia would be going as well. And since he fully intends to make her jealous and eventually win her back—a plan that you still aren’t totally convinced by—he hired you to come out and be here with him. 

“You look really nice,” Callum says. He offers you a lazy, but well-meaning smile. You appreciate the compliment, and you were hoping you looked nice, but right now you’re honestly freezing your ass off. The sooner you get inside, the better. 

“Thanks,” you nod. “You look nice too. I, um. I like your t-shirt.” 

Callum stares at you for a few moments, then throws his head back and explodes into laughter. “Haha! Ha, that’s good. You know, you really don’t have to force yourself to say something nice. Most guys don’t exactly put as much effort into their outfits as girls do.” 

“It’s a nice t-shirt,” you shrug. 

“Well, I appreciate you saying that. Come on,” he gestures, beckoning you along. “Let’s get going. This is around the time people were saying Nadia would be showing up. If we’re lucky, maybe we’ll run into her right from the beginning.” 

You nod and follow him. Even though you still have your doubts about whether or not Nadia will actually want to get back together with him, you’re done worrying about it. He’s the client, and you’re here to do a job. All you can do is play your part, and play it well. You’re being paid whether or not his plan succeeds, and honestly? Part of you is hoping it won’t, only because they’re so clearly not good for each other. You want Callum to be able to move on with his life and find someone who treats him well. Someone who genuinely makes him happy. 

But until that happens, you’re in for one hell of a ride. 

“I mentioned before that some buddies of mine are gonna be at this party too, right? I think you’ll like them,” Callum says. He scratches his cheek, then laughs. “And they’ll probably like you too. None of my friends can really stand Nadia. They always tell me she’s a massive bitch and I need to drop her already.” 

Yikes. Even his friends are advising him to find someone else, but he still has no intention of doing it. His relationship with Nadia truly is a horror show. 

“Honestly, they’ll probably suggest I start dating you instead,” Callum adds in a casual, nonchalant tone.

“But we’re still telling them we’re just friends, because that’s what we agreed on. Right…?” 

You blink warily. You hope this whole thing isn’t one big setup, because you’ll be really pissed off. If he deceives you again, then you have no intention of keeping him as a client. 

“Don’t worry,” Callum reassures. “I’m only going to tell people that you’re my friend. I’m just assuming how they’ll react, because I know they’re desperate for me to date other girls apart from Nadia. They just really want her out of my life. Which I get, because again, she’s kind of fucking crazy.” 

I am very much aware. 

You let out a sigh. It’s weird to think that you’re being paid to essentially butt into someone else’s relationship. If someone had asked you how you would be earning money, you could never have predicted it would be like this. 

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. There’s no shame in what you’re doing. If other people can hold their heads up high while working this job, then so can you. 

“Looks like we’re here,” Callum says. He points towards a big house further up ahead, where there’s a line of people waiting outside to be let in. It’s even busier than you were expecting. You’re not much of a partygoer to begin with, but damn. You can already tell people are going to get wasted out of their minds. 

Callum pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Hold up. I’m gonna text my friends and see where they’re at. One of them is pretty close with some of the frat guys, so I think we’ll be able to get in for free. We might be able to skip the line too.” 

You nod and step back while you wait for him to do his thing. He’s trying to call his friends, but it looks like he might be having a hard time getting through to them, because no one’s picking up. They might already be in the house and can’t hear their phones ringing. The music is blasting even way out here, so you can only imagine how loud it is on the inside. 

Pretty much all you can do is twiddle your thumbs while you wait for Callum to tell you what the plan is, so you absently walk around in place, hoping that it won’t be much longer—you’re seriously freezing. 

All of a sudden, someone bumps into you from behind. 

But it’s not a little bump. It’s not the kind of bump that just startles you and might make you look around in surprise. 

No, it’s the kind of bump that knocks you flat onto the ground and lands you right on your palms and knees. 

The kind of bump that was done on purpose. 

“O-Ouch…” 

You grit your teeth and wince. The fall was far from pleasant, and you know that your tights definitely ripped from the impact. It hurts like a bitch, and when you slowly peel one of your hands away from the concrete, the skin of your palm is covered in angry red scrapes. Part of it has even begun to bleed. 

“Aw, I’m so sorry,” a nasally, disgustingly-fake voice cuts in. It’s a voice you recognize, unfortunately. You don’t even have to turn your head to know who it is. 

But you do it anyway, and you’re met with a hateful grin. 

“So sorry about that,” Nadia says, looking anything but. She twirls a lock of hair around one of her fingers and chuckles. “But it was really your fault for not looking where you were going. Maybe don’t walk around like an airhead next time, okay, love?” 

You don’t say anything. You refuse to debase yourself and sink to her level. But either way, one thing is certain. 

She’s not going to make this easy for you. 

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🦋 main masterlist ♡ character appearances

[itz-pandora]

Cw for illness, emotional abuse, animal neglect, misogyny, and implications of me suspecting ideation suicide/attempted murder

Oh my gosh. My stepbrother and his girlfriend are. Where do I start

She's chronically ill. She can't work and she has seizures. The first time I saw the ambulance in my front yard was scary, and there was so many times after that quickly followed.

She and my stepbrother used to live in our basement. They are banned from living in the basement because of how disgusting they left it. Their poor dog was stuck in a cage all day and not given any love, that sweet boy was terrified to go down there once they moved upstairs.

They live in what used to be out playroom, the only thing separating them from the rest of our first floor was a curtain. Hearing how he talks is gross sometimes. He's an Andrew Tate fan, I don't remember how I found out. He works at day and games, watches anime, and sleeps all night. I don't think he's ever washed dishes in this house. I don't think he's ever vacuumed. He's a slob.

He yells at her when frustrated. He's been frustrated a lot. She doesn't talk back, and if she did, he'd only make her feel more worthless.

There was this one time she ran out of medication when he was out on a trip and he didn't tell anyone. I remember asking my sister "I feel like he's trying to kill her." My dad and his mom were pissed. He blamed pharmacies for not letting him get medications—which is definitely a problem—but he didn't tell anyone. He'd let her have seizures and die in the 2 weeks he left her with no medication. I don't think he even got a slap on the wrist.

They vape—all of my step family does—including her. Her, my stepbrother and my stepsister all smoke weed. Her doctor told her to stop both. He tells her to stop both, all the while handing her a vape, letting her do it, encouraging her even. He acts like it's all her but he's letting this happen, he let it happen. It's a risk, it can make her seizures worse. I wonder if one day she wishes she didn't wake up with all the ways she's making her condition worse.

He's pardoned for his own mental issues. He shouldn't be. It's not fair to her to let this go on, but nobody else wants to step up, or even tell him off. Recently he's been comparing whatever she did to wrong him to him cheating on her—its been repetitive, making me wonder if he's confession to or having thoughts about it.

Recently, she's been losing stuff. As he does with every minor inconvenience, he loses his shit. He rants for minutes, hours, all on the same topic of saying he can't fucking stand when she moves anything. She lost her medication—I still wonder if she even wants to keep living—and he ranted. This was more than before. I sat in the bathroom typing this out.

He threatened to put her in a mental hospital. He told her to hurt herself. He did that just now, as I am writing this. He's threatening to shoot himself in the shoulder for her losing the medication. "Do not talk like that," he said. To what, I don't know, her voice was too quiet. "The emotions that you just felt is what I feel everyday when you do that," he said. He's acting like she's out of line. The closest thing I heard to her acting out was her going on the deck because she was crying. "You have no fucking idea what shit goes through my head…you can't comprehend it…being a man in society." He didn't apologize, he rationalized himself. He admitted the only reason he did apologize was because everyone can hear them.

I don't know when they moved in with us, but I think she was around 18, while he was 22? I don't know. I don't know when they started dating. It's weird, she's barely older than my oldest sister and me and my sisters were shocked to find out how young she was. It's disgusting. She completely depends on her and the rest of her family remains anonymous to me, so she's stuck.

This isn't everything. But I needed to write something down.

[softdrafts]

@imma-potatoo okay so this is gonna be a long text lmao

I can see him being AuDHD! I don't have scenes to prove it but I can totally imagine him lacking social cues for example! Or even having trouble with social interactions and making new friends... And having hyperfocus as mentioned before!

I'm wondering what it was like for Ben on the college... I feel like he might have felt excluded. And the undiagnosed AuDHD symptoms must have been the worst.

And talking about hyperfocus, HE TOTALLY HYPERFOCUSED ON THAT DINO CONSPIRACY. That's why he discovered that website, and discovered Camp Fam were being followed... That board he created with the names lmao, he hyperfocused so hard that I BET he forgot to even eat.

About the socks, omg I wished there was a scene abt it bc I can totally see that lmao!

And let's talk about HUGS! Because for me Darius is the type of autistic person who crave hugs from his loved ones, and Ben is more neutral about them ! But when Darius hugs him he'll always gets surprised, since Darius gives Ben the tightest hugs <3

And abt the dino special interest, I have a headcanon about it on this post here! I think Ben doesn't remember as much facts abt dinos as Darius bc first: Darius's been into paleontology a lot longer than Ben, and second: I hc that Ben memory is not the best (maybe bc of the ADHD? Idk ).

About contamination OCD, I tried to imagine it but I can't 😭🙏 so feel free to make ur comments abt what I interpreted from jwcc and jwct :

Maybe bc he eats on a boot on jwct season 1, I kinda see him as having trouble with organizing stuff, doing chores, and with eating properly, not with contamination.

That thing he had on jwcc s1 abt contamination is, for me, more of a fear his parents tried to implement on him.

I feel like, during s2- s3, he found his way out of this habit making it really less recurrent bc he started doing what he truly wanted to do, and stoped to base his actions on insecurities that I personally think were caused by his parents... So basically I feel like that " habit" he had on s1 has not enough frequency for it being a compulsion u know?

And this doesn't mean after season 2 he doesn't have insecurities anymore, I'm just saying some of his fears were suppressed by his desire of being free to be himself...

Oh, and I love how his character arc have this frequently metaphor about "changing". I say that since wanting changes is a common thing for ADHDers...

Something like... two years ago, someone posted the benrius version of this meme AND I CAN'T FIND IT ANYWHERE so I edited it again by myself bc I JUST CAN'T UNSEE IT

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Caleb touching and sucking mc’s tits for the first time after seeing her on a low cut top without a bra. He was very nervous but couldn’t help it🤍

．— ℱ）𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ：fem!reader ．nsfw．boob obsessed Caleb．tit fucking ．boob sucking ．submissive Caleb ＆ other stuff!

Caleb wasn’t the type to lose control easily. He prided himself on his self-restraint, on keeping a level head even in the most tempting situations.

But when you walked into his room wearing that low-cut top—without a bra—he felt his entire body betray him.

He tried not to stare. He really tried. But the way the fabric clung to your skin, the soft curves of your tits teasing him with every movement, made it impossible. His mouth felt dry, his fingers twitching where they rested on his knee.

You flopped onto his bed, stretching your arms above your head, and his eyes immediately dropped to the way your chest lifted with the motion. He bit the inside of his cheek so hard he swore he tasted blood.

“You’re acting weird,” you teased, tilting your head at him.

He scoffed, but it sounded too forced. “No, I’m not.”

You followed his gaze, then glanced down at yourself, a knowing smile playing on your lips. “Oh…” Your voice was light, teasing. “Are you staring at my—?”

“Don’t,” he muttered, rubbing his palm over his face.

But you only giggled, shifting closer until your knees bumped his. “Do you wanna touch them?”

Caleb stiffened, breath catching in his throat. “What?”

You reached for his hand, guiding it over your chest, and his fingers curled instinctively around the soft warmth. His entire body tensed. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think.

“Fuck pipsqueak,” he exhaled, barely above a whisper. His thumb grazed over your nipple, feeling it stiffen beneath his touch, and something primal stirred deep in his stomach.

Your breath hitched, the sound so quiet yet so devastating that his restraint snapped. He leaned in, pressing his lips to your collarbone, kissing his way down to the exposed skin of your chest. His tongue flicked out, testing, tasting, before he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked.

A sharp gasp left your lips, and your fingers immediately tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. He groaned against your skin, his hands gripping your waist as he took more of you into his mouth, sucking harder, letting his teeth graze just enough to make you shiver.

“You—fuck, Caleb,” you whimpered, arching into him, and that was it. That was the sound that ruined him.

His hands roamed greedily, his mouth moving between your tits, kissing, licking, devouring every inch you offered him. He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore—all he knew was that he needed more. More of your skin, more of your moans, more of you.

And from the way you clung to him, breathless and desperate, you needed it too.

Caleb was completely unraveling beneath you. The way his breath hitched, the way his fingers trembled against your skin—it was addicting. He wasn’t in control anymore, and you loved it.

“Pipsqueak,” he groaned, voice shaky, like he was barely holding himself together. “You’re—fuck—y’know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

You hummed, sliding your hands down his chest, feeling the way it rose and fell in uneven breaths. His cock strained against his pants, so obvious, so desperate, and the way he twitched beneath you sent a thrill down your spine.

“I dunno,” you murmured, trailing your fingers lower. “You’re the one shaking, Caleb.”

He let out a choked noise when you palmed him through the fabric, his hips jerking up into your touch. “Shut up,” he tried, but there was no bite behind it. If anything, he sounded needy.

You tugged at his waistband, watching his breath stutter as you freed him from the confines of his pants. His cock was flushed, leaking at the tip, and he twitched at the cool air. You pressed a teasing kiss to his stomach, grinning when he sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re so hard already,” you whispered. “Is it ‘cause I let you suck on my tits, Caleb?”

His face burned. “Pipsqueak—”

You cut him off by pressing your tits together around his cock, watching as his head fell back against the pillows. His lips parted, breathless, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the sight.

“Shit,” he whimpered, hands gripping the sheets. You rolled your hips slightly, adding just enough pressure as you moved, and he cursed under his breath.

He was falling apart so easily.

“You’re so sensitive,” you teased, lifting yourself slightly before pressing back down, letting his cock slide between the soft warmth of your chest. “You like this, don’t you?”

He let out the most pathetic whimper, his hips bucking up into you. “F-fuck, yes.”

You leaned in, letting your breath ghost over the head of his cock, and his entire body tensed. His thighs trembled as you flattened your tongue against the tip of his cock, licking up the precum that had gathered there.

Caleb moaned, gripping the sheets tighter. “Pipsqueak—please—”

You smirked. He was begging now?

“Please what?” You dragged out the words, slowing your movements just to watch him suffer.

His head snapped forward, eyes blown wide with desperation. His lips parted, trying to form words, but all that came out was desperate, breathless whimper.

God, he was so easy to break.

And you weren’t done with him yet.

Caleb was falling apart beneath you. His chest heaved, his fingers twitching where they gripped the sheets, completely at your mercy. His cock throbbed between your boobs, slick with his own precum, and every time you moved, his breath hitched like he was this close to losing himself.

“Look at you,” you murmured, pressing your chest together tighter around him. “So needy… you can’t even handle this, can you?”

He whined, actually whined, his hips jerking up involuntarily. “F-fuck, please—”

“Please what?” You slowed your pace, teasing him, watching his face twist in frustration. His cheeks were flushed, his lips parted as little breathless moans spilled from them.

“Please—ah, shit—please don’t stop.” His voice was wrecked, desperate. “I-I can’t—fuck, I need—”

You smirked, shifting slightly to let your tongue flick over his tip again, tasting the heat of him as he shuddered beneath you.

“Need what, Caleb?” You licked up the underside, slow and deliberate, watching the way his muscles tensed. “Say it.”

His fingers flexed, then clenched the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. His body was trembling, barely able to handle the way you had him trapped between your softness, teasing, dragging out every second just to watch him crumble.

“I need—fuck—I need to cum,” he gasped. “Please, pipsqueak, I—ahh—please.”

God, he was pathetic. A trembling mess beneath you, completely at your mercy, begging like he’d fall apart if you didn’t let him have it.

You smirked, pressing your soft tits even tighter around his cock, moving faster, watching the way his body tensed, the way his thighs shook.

“Then cum for me,” you murmured, licking your lips as his breath caught.

Caleb let out a choked moan, his hips bucking up into the warmth of your chest, his entire body shuddering as he finally broke. His grip on the sheets tightened, back arching as he came undone, spilling between your pillowy tits with a wrecked gasp of your name.

You watched him, drinking in the way he trembled, the way his body sagged into the mattress, utterly spent. His breath was ragged, eyes hazy as he stared at you like you had completely ruined him.

And maybe you had.

His fingers twitched, weakly reaching for you, but he didn’t have the strength to pull you close. You leaned over him anyway, pressing a teasing kiss to his sharp jaw.

“You’re so easy, Caleb,” you whispered. “I might have to do this more often.”

His breath hitched, and even in his wrecked state, you could feel him twitch against your thigh.

Yeah. He was definitely yours now.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[marlynnofmany]

Hey artists, sign your art. When I save a picture because it's beautiful and I want to look at it again later, I'd love to remember who drew it. I save things for years. If I see something else amazing by the same artist later, I'll be delighted!

But if I don't know who drew it, then that's just one more mystery of the internet.

[disposal-blueeee]

doodles

edgar vargas and squee by johnen vasquez

scriabin by zarla-s

[buttercupshands]

Somehow even thinking about isat and mha brings unpleasant memories and thoughts

Like "oh maybe I'll draw for it" and poof brain slowly just turns off and wants nothing to do with it

Weird!

[theswedishpajas]

You are walking away from Beetlecoon?? Leaving Beetlecoon petless??? Jail for breather! Jail for breather for One Thousand Years!!!!!

[termagax]

like ronnies wuest is ALSO really really good but you basically get to say to her everything i wanted to say. about it not being her fault and about how much i love her and want her to be free and live her own life and not tie herself to a sinking ship forever. girl i love you sometimes your family is determined to wallow in the mud but YOU dont have to. but like you get to tell her that straight up. the combo of not getting to say everything i want to say + arcade LEAVING ME FOREVER. SOMETHING I DID NOT KNOW WOULD HAPPEN. just leaves me with this big aching arcade gannon shaped hole in my heart that will never be filled by anything else as long as i am on this earth. i get to go back to my apartment every night and go HONEY IM HOME and kiss veronica on the mouth. i wont see arcade again for months and months and months of in game time. and i miss him dearly.

[leatherbookmark]

a thing i have JUST realized, isn't the human brain amazing lol -- is that we talk about izzy's thoughts and feelings on ed, on blackbeard, about how he serves one but not the other, etc, etc, and how it means he never loved or even respected the True Man Underneath It All but rather the bloodthirsty legend of a pirate--

e x c e p t izzy is not the first person who makes the distinction between edward and blackbeard. it's ed himself, when he says "actually, i want to be called edward from now on".

before, when he was with stede, it didn't bother him at all that the crew called him blackbeard. that was his name! he was blackbeard, what else would they call him. only stede and izzy got to "ed" or "edward" him, because they were closer -- stede was his first close friend, izzy was his friend and first mate for decades. (note that fang was with ed the longest, but he doesn't call him by his name! you gotta deserve it.)

izzy doesn't do anything inappropriate or out of proportion when he snaps at the crew to call him blackbeard or captain -- that's who ed is, is supposed to be, to them. they're not friends! they even call stede captain, and have you seen that guy?

it's ed that makes the connection between his current state: draped in fuchsia robes, singing sad songs about how sad he is, showing his vulnerable and emotional state in front of people who are supposed to respect and trust his authority. and by that he splendidly loses that authority, to the point that wee john calls him ed, and when izzy snaps at him for disrespecting his captain, ed goes no, actually, yknow what, do call me edward! and then he goes on to encourage the crew to sing as well and hey, actually, why are we being pirates! we should do a talent show!

the distinction is clear here. before all that, in izzy's eyes, his boss was blackbeard, captain, ed/edward -- different names for different occasions, but one and the same guy. but now? this guy singing songs in a pink bathrobe doesn't want to be called blackbeard, he's edward! ed time now! we're going to eat marmalade and express our feelings in front of everyone! and hold talent shows! Ya Hoo !

yeah, it's no wonder izzy doesn't want that. he wants his competent captain back, and this current dude, edward? he's not him. so, uh,