#Kit responds

[redfoxwritesstuff]

To the little Nonny in my inbox having a fuckin bitch fit this week because I haven't written Loki in a hot minute.

My words go where my whims take me. My energy goes towards things that will be loved and cherished. My writing is for those who will give a fucking *shit* to interact beyond demanding I do what they want.

I do whatever the *fuck* I want. I write whatever the *fuck* I want for whoever the *fuck* I want whenever the *fuck I want*. Unless you're paying me or stroking my goddamned ego, you can fuck off.

You can take your "I remember when you...", "You should go back to...", "No one likes it when you..."s and shove them right up your fucking ass.

I'll leave Marvel and Loki so fucking fast if *I* want to. I haven't because I'm a sentimental bitch but I'm not going to go back to begging for a ounce of interaction from a fandom that can't be fucking bothered. I'll write Loki when *I* fucking feel like it.

And lastly, if I want to play in a sandbox populated by a fucking blasphemous cartoon world, the fucking devil himself and a psychotic serial killer *I fucking will* and you'll either sit down, shut the fuck up and take what I give you or you can see yourself out.

Bitch at me again and I'll see you out myself.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

My kid and I were blasting Taylor Swift's "I can do it with a broken heart" this morning cuz she said it was her vibe of the day...

she's 11, not got a broken heart but you know what, I can respect just the same lol

If I ask nicely who will rb this telling me what is the last song u listened to 🥺

[sanasanakun]

People try too hard to make Curly an active participant in Jimmy's abuse. Isn't the whole point that he's passive in everything Jimmy does? Abuse occurs because he actively doesn't do anything? Not to call someone out or be mean, but I saw a post saying Anya's ID being in Curly's locker at the beginning shows that he intended to prevent Anya from filing an HR report and I disagree. I get where that interpretation is coming from, but I think it's a little uncharitable. I don't like being too kind to Curly because he's like...a morally mid dude at best lol But if we're going by the HR report interpretation, I would say it's more likely he requested Anya's ID in order to file an HR report on her behalf. After all, the only way to contact Pony (that we see) is in the cockpit, he's the Captain, and Pony Express sucks bad so I wouldn't put it past them to only allow the Captain to use the communication device thing. As we see before, Curly is the only one able to use tools around the ship that you would think other employees could use (ex. Swansea should be able to use the axe if he's the repair guy. Idk why they'd need an ax but that falls under manual labor which Swansea is designated for as the mechanic/fixer dude. But it has to go through Curly). I never got the vibe that Curly moved to actively protect Jimmy. He just lets things happen without say a word; Jimmy walks all over him, and by extension, the whole crew. I get why people would think that because he gives the whole "Hey Jimmy, we can get through this together, bud" spiel right before the crash. This part interests me a lot because there's so many ways to interpret Curly's intentions there. My interpretation is that Curly is on autopilot mode. The responses seem so stilted in comparison to Jimmy's. Like it's the kind of thing Curly's said before again and again and again when Jimmy's gotten in trouble. However, as others previously pointed out, I don't think Curly ever dealt with Jimmy doing something this irredeemable. He doesn't know how to respond, so he just goes for the default "You've gotten through tough situations before. Work through it one step at a time." Like the response is lame af lol I think he was in shock; he was scared (and just so I can say it one more time: he's super lame).

Anyway, this is way longer than I intended and I've said things a billion people have already stated. But uhhh tldr the whole point of Curly's character is he's passive; he never acts. He just watches. Making him an active participant in the abuse by taking actions to cover for Jimmy (like preventing Anya from filing an HR report) defeats the purpose of his character. He's a bystander.

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

@ the people who write things in my tags IM GOING TO EXPLODE YOU WITH MY MIND. /pos

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Wait- no- I'm gonna cry!!

Thank you love! To mention me next to such great people tooooooooo

you ever read a fic so good you want to sit around and discuss it with people english class style

[tennessoui]

oh oh oh au where anakin and obi-wan are both generals of the rebellion and anakin escorts senator bail and queen breha back to Alderaan after a covert Resistance meeting on the request of General Kenobi because he’s the best flyer in the Rebellion and they need to sneak them back into Alderaan so the empire doesn’t know….

Only for the rebellion to get the news that the Death Star has destroyed Alderaan. No word from General Skywalker. It must be assumed that he died with the planet.

Obi-Wan refuses to believe it, even as the days pass with no signal from Anakin. But he can’t believe his old padawan is dead….and he can’t believe he’d sent him to his death either.

(Anakin is alive, but he had to go undercover as an Imperial to leave the planet in time and hasn’t been able to contact Obi-Wan, but surely Obi-Wan knows it’ll take more than a Death Star to kill him!!)

(Obi-Wan doesn’t know this)

(Their reunion involves Obi-Wan maybe toppling him into the dust in a hug and then punching him when Anakin makes a Hardeen joke about it all)

[wikitpowers]

what if tessa enters kit’s room the night ty visit him and asks kit for his dirty underwear bc she’s putting the washing on and kit dies of embarrassment and is just like “MUM! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” while looking like a huge beetroot :’)

[wr1ghtw0rth]

🔁🔄🔃

But why?

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Look, I'm an old lady at heart. I need to be tuckied into bedie boo at 9pm or the latest 10 or I get cranky loool

an online friend group may include:

guy who is nocturnal.

guy who goes to bed at nine pm.

guy who is inexplicably literally always online.

guy who lives on the other side of the planet.

[moodymisty]

Hey guys, feel free to keep sending in things like normal i would really appreciate it, but I'm going to take a few days off. Thanks for being here <3

TW vent

Very long story short, I still live with family for multiple reasons. It's complicated, and the current landscape doesn't help. But my mother is mentally ill and has no desire to get help for herself, and a lot of things fall onto me. But she has put a lot of time and effort into making me the one with every issue, rather than looking inward. My childhood was a lot of being called retarded and many other things, having passive aggressive jabs thrown at me, and getting berated at for getting caught wearing makeup and dresses because she wished I'd been born a boy. It's stressful when the person demanding so much attention and work from you has never really wanted you to begin with. this is only the tip of the iceberg but

Anyways.

I've had to deal with another meltdown, and my human interaction meter is largely at it's limit, so I'm going to go play some Elden ring or something else and try to relax. Thanks for being so patient with me.

[kitcats-1-braincell]

AUGAJHHAHJBAHBJHBAJHBAKN IT MAKES ME SO SO SO HAPPY BEING CALLED A DIFFERENT NAME :3 BUT LIKE ONE THAT I ACTUALLY LIKEEEE

For context, here’s my Discord name in a server I’m in (I used to have a Bonnie pfp)

And someone mistook that to be an alternate name/the name I go by and called me Bonnie over vc

I started kicking my feet aauigguayyugajyg I love being called Bonnie!! Please call me Kit or Bonnie!! Or anyone else in the main party (Siffrin, Isabeau, Mirabelle, Odile)!!! That will make my day!!! :3

[subjectsix]

A bit extra mushy about all my friends and community today.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Try again.

That's *not* how you slice cucumbers for salads...

[timothyslucy]

making a personal headcanon that the nickname "kitty" derives from an obsession kitty had with "hello kitty" as a baby, so that's what eve started calling her.

[kitkatkitzune]

Hiiiii 🫶🏻 do you take kol x reader requests?

Hi lovely!!

My blog is still relatively new so I haven’t fully set everything up just yet so I haven’t posted anything regarding requests but I do plan to take some!!

So, yes, of course you can share your thoughts, ideas, and requests about Kol! Just remember to be kind when asking and be patient (I’m only one person!),, also note that I do not write smut simply because I’m not good at it.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

You... you ah, know that feeling when you do something and you think you did it well? and then- then someone comes along right after you and does it too? And then! THEN! They do it *better*?!

Yeah- that just happened.

My dude, let me take off my crown and pass it to you because I believe you fuckin dropped it somewhere along the way.

Day Eight! I want to preface this with this: I had Somnophilia on my list with Vox in mind. Coincidentally @redfoxwritesstuff has also written a very wonderful fic for Vox with this prompt. Hers is called Late Meetings, so please go read hers and show her beautiful writing love!

I am vastly aware of the similarities between both fics: Vox, Somnophillia, and late nights/meetings, and the mention of notes! Though I attempted to make mine as different as I could. Great minds think alike! (Kit if it's too similar let me know. I'll gladly repost after a rewrite.)

Tags/Warnings: Human!Vox, marriage, dub-con, dubious consent, somnophilia, fem!reader, fem!receiving, fingering, p in v sex, soft sex Word Count: 1,962

Human!Vox X Reader

You often consider yourself the luckiest woman in the world. How could you not when your husband was Vox? You adored your husband, admired his work ethic, and appreciated the money he brought home. But there were some nights, much like tonight, where you wondered if he loved you as much as you loved him.

“Eight o’clock.” He promised before leaving that morning. He would be home by eight. Now it was eight thirty and you hadn't gotten even a call from him. Your dinner had long gone cold, not that you had much of an appetite anymore. Begrudgingly, you got up and started putting everything away.

When everything was put away you poured yourself a generous glass of wine. The minutes ticked by as you drank it, the clock in the hallway striking nine. You downed the rest of the wine, put the glass in the sink, and headed to bed. Typically you wrote a note to Vox before you went to bed, wishing him well, hoping his broadcast was good. Tonight you did no such thing, your heart sitting heavily in your chest. He could have at least called and told you he'd be home late. Instead you had gotten nothing, so in turn, he would get nothing.

Vox finally managed to get back to his office, his last meeting had run a little bit late. But he didn't think he was running all that late. He grabbed his suit jacket, pulling it on as the clock behind him struck the hour. He counted each chime, frowning when it hit eight. So he would be home a little later than expected. The clock chimed once more before falling silent. Vox’s eyes found the clock face, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach as it confirmed what he had just heard. Nine chimes, it was nine. He was in for a world of trouble when he got home, guilt already eating away at him. He was an hour late, and by the time he drove home, that'd be even more.

He got in about twenty minutes later, opening the door. The house he shared with you was dark. No lights on at all. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he kicked off his shoes. After locking the door behind him, he headed towards the kitchen, expecting a note. When he found none waiting for him, his frown deepened. How upset were you with him that you hadn't even left him a note?

He looked forward to your notes, storing them all away in a shoebox kept under his side of the bed. Keepsakes, tokens of your love for him. If he hadn't been guilty before, he certainly was now. He headed towards the bedroom, shedding each layer of clothing as he went. He pushed open the door, pausing in the threshold of the bedroom he shared with you. You were fast asleep already. He didn't blame you, it was late and he had promised to be home over an hour ago. But he didn't like the idea that you had gone to bed angry with him. He entered the room fully, removing his shirt and pants. He sat down on the bed beside you, reaching out a hand to brush your hair out of your face. You moved at his light touch, a soft murmur escaping your lips.

“I'm home, babydoll.” He murmured, a frown on his face as he watched you roll over, turning your back to him.

The sight, though unintentional, hurt him. His hand brushed down your arm for a moment before he stood back up. He slipped off his socks and then his boxers. He wondered for a moment, if he should go sleep on the couch. Had he earned enough of your ire to warrant that? But more than anything, he wanted to have you in his arms. That desire won out over anything else. He headed towards the dresser, pulling out a new set of boxers and night pants. He slipped them both on, before he returned to the bed. That was when he noticed that you were laying on his side, and had been the entire time. He smiled at the realization, reaching out to brush your hair out of your face once again. It always seemed to fall into your face.

Vox slid into bed next to you, moving you enough to allow him to lay down comfortably. Upon sensing his presence, despite being asleep, you wrapped your arms around him. He smiled as you nuzzled against his chest. He rested his hand on your lower back, idly tracing his fingers up and down. You shifted again, the movement, paired with his idle strokes, had your nightgown riding up. Vox paused when his hand touched bare skin, a frown pulling at his lips. He shifted, his eyes roaming over your body in the dim light. You were wearing a nightgown, one of his favorites, and nothing else. The realization had his heart skipping a beat, his cock twitching to life. He shifted you off him, rolling onto his side to watch you as you slept. His eyes were drawn to your nightgown bunched around your waist, exposing your lower half to his hungry gaze. Vox reasoned that he might as well feel what he had missed out on before pulling your nightgown back down and going to bed. He moved his hand, his fingers slipping between your legs, teasing at your entrance. He bit his lip, finding that you were soaked.

“Fuck,” He whispered, not having expected you to be so wet. “I’m even more sorry for being late.”

A whine escaped your lips, your legs falling open as you ground yourself down against his hand. His fingers slipped inside you, his eyes widening as he sat up. He had every intent to pull his fingers out of you, not wanting to touch you without your express permission. But then his name was falling from your lips in a breathy moan, your hips grinding down. All resolve was flung out the window. Tentatively he began to move his fingers, pumping them in and out of you with practiced ease. Your head fell back, your legs spreading wider for him. Your breath was coming faster, your chest heaving as he slowly brought you closer to release.

“So beautiful for me.” He mummers, his other hand shoving down his night pants and boxers.

He kicked them from his frame, wrapping his hand around his length with a soft gasp. He began to pump himself in tune with every curl of his fingers pressing against that sweet spot inside you. The moans that fell from your lips were loud and lewd. Completely unashamed in your sleep and it was alluring. He felt your body tense beneath his touch, a loud moan gracing his ears in time with the way your walls squeezed around his fingers. Your release washed over you, your body quaking with the intensity of it. Your eyes fluttered open, post orgasmic bliss giving way to confusion.

“Vox?” You whispered, wiping away sleep from your eyes.

“Fuck.” He whispered, pulling his fingers from your dripping core. “Hey doll.”

You gasp at the feeling of his fingers slipping from you, your eyes catching on his hard cock. Which he hadn’t stopped pumping despite the fact that you had woken up. You swallow, your brows furrowing. You knew you should be upset that he had touched you without your permission. But instead, you felt weirdly loved and cherished.

“Did you have any intention on fucking me while I was asleep?” You ask softly, sitting up.

Guilt flashed through Vox, he finally removed his hand from his throbbing cock. “I’m sorry. None, I didn’t even mean to do this. I just…wanted to feel you, see what I missed.”

You hum, moving your hand to his cock. Vox gasped, his hips jerking at your touch.

“Doll?” He asked hesitantly, unsure of how you’d react, of what you were doing.

“Shut up for a moment.” You murmur. “I’m still deciding if I should be mad at you or not.”

He cracked a smile despite himself, cupping your cheek with his hand. You met his gaze, the room slightly illuminated by the moonlight spilling in from the windows.

“In my defense it was you rolling your hips down that started this. I had every intent to stop, to pull away.”

Another hum of acknowledgement, your eyes falling from his face to land on his cock again. The tip was leaking pre-cum and you couldn’t deny the fact that you were turned on. You shift forward, coming to straddle his lap. Your hand still on his cock, guiding him towards your entrance. You sank down onto his cock, moaning at the sensation of him filling you completely.

“Fuck.” Vox cursed, hips thrusting up into you as you slid down onto his length. “You’re not mad?”

You shake your head, hands resting against his shoulders as you began to slowly fuck yourself on his cock. “Not in particular.”

“You didn’t leave me a note.” He murmured, his breath coming a bit quicker at the sensation of your tight walls clenching around his cock. “You always leave me a note.”

“You could have called me.” You mutter in reply, “I’d have liked a call.  You always call.”

He frowned, his hands resting against your hips, guiding you. His pace picked up, meeting you thrust for thrust.

“My meeting ran late, I had no way to know the time. I’m sorry.” His voice was full of genuine remorse and guilt. “I’ll make it up to you, my dear.”

The soft slaps of your bodies joining together over and over filled the room, his soft grunts mixing with your moans.

“You already are.” You whisper, your walls fluttering around his cock.

You were close to another orgasm, and by the twitching of his cock, Vox was close to his as well. He pulls you into a gentle kiss, his hips moving faster, chasing that release.

“I love you.” He murmurs, pressing kiss after kiss to your mouth. “I love you so, so much. I don’t deserve you.”

Vox shifts, his cock slipping deeper inside you. Each thrust had him rolling against your g-spot, his cock-head kissing against your cervix. Your walls fluttered around his cock, your eyes rolling back in your head. Your moans were getting louder, more breathless.

“Vox, please.” You whined, so close to your release.

He kept his steady pace, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He captured your mouth with his, swallowing your cries as you came. Your walls flexed around his cock, drawing him deeper.

“Oh fuck!” He growled, his hips stuttering as he came.

Hot ropes of cum splashed against your cervix, filling you to the brim with his seed. A whimper falls from your lips at the sensation, Vox slowing to a stop inside you. He shifts, laying down, taking you with him. The change in position makes you cry out, your body overly sensitive. You expected him to pull out of you, instead he remained buried balls deep inside you. His lips brushed over yours again.

“I love you.” He repeats softly, “So much. You’re my everything.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss slightly. Now that the two of you were laying down, exhaustion was dragging at you, threatening to pull you into sleep.

“I love you too, Vox.” You whisper, eyes closing as you rested against his chest. “You’re my entire world.”

You fell asleep in his arms, his cock buried deep inside you, knowing that you were loved.

You were indeed the luckiest woman in the world.