#Mai 75

[amywritesthings]

...sooooo do you guys want a silver underground friday on january 31? 😏

[so-very-small]

having a new hyperfixation and a new ship and desperately wanting to write a g/t fic of them but also really wanting to wait til i consume more of the media and really get into these characters heads. like it’s not enough to write a g/t fic about them, i need to analyze these guys to such an insane degree so i can write 100% in character reactions to finding a tiny/being a tiny. and like it’s not that i’m worried readers will find it OOC. this accuracy is all for me baybee. i need to be able to read this in five years when i know every single fact abt this show, and still find it in character. i need to absorb their psyches. like if i don’t spend a dozen hours combing the wiki and finding out their most niche traits and utilize it for a fucked up fearplay oneshot then like, what’s the point

[seaweed-water]

wip wednesday

thank you for tagging me, @dear-massacre... i'm assuming this is what you wanted lmao. also dedicated to @rugbertgoeshome who just lovingly spammed me ♥️

tw: implied rape, rape, depending on how you look at it i guess? someone gets raped

Stiles dips his head down and seals their lips together, holding Derek under his jaw. They watch each other through slotted eyes, and Stiles pulls away with soft lingering pecks as he says, “It’s today.”

With furrowed brows, Derek’s eyes flick between Stiles’, their faces inches apart now as Stiles waits for it to sink in, and then Derek understands.

“Right now?” he asks, his voice unsteady, a spike of adrenaline rushing through him at the realization he’ll be branded forever on this day. He asked Stiles to surprise him with it instead of counting down the days with dread in his veins.

“Right now,” Stiles confirms, and sweat sprouts over Derek’s skin as he swallows and presses into Stiles’ neck, seeking comfort as his limbs start to quiver in anticipation. Stiles’ arms wrap around him, nose pressing in his hair, lips brushing over his temple as Derek attempts to sink into him. He’d almost prefer to wear the collar forever, but even the thought isn’t satisfying enough. He can take the collar off, and then how would anyone know who he belongs to? He must be branded and marked permanently, forever—anything less simply won’t do.

Stiles lets him delay the inevitable a few more moments, fingertips massaging over Derek’s scalp as he breathes in the doctor’s warm scent to calm himself, until finally Stiles pulls away, stealing another kiss before he says, “Go kneel by the fire, baby.”

Derek does as he’s told, draping over the chair, knees planted on the cushion Stiles placed for him. Stiles’ fingers hook under the elastic band of Derek’s pants, peeling the fabric away. The skin on his ass cheek turns cold in the wake of the iodine Stiles swipes over him, and he shudders, the hair rising over every inch of his body.

The branding itself doesn’t hurt quite like Derek expected. Maybe worse than a tattoo, the white-hot iron searing into his ass cheek for all of three seconds. The euphoria kicks in before he really gets a chance to revel in the pain, and Stiles applies an ointment as Derek lies over the chair cushion with tears in his eyes.

“Have you ever branded anyone before?” Derek asks, his voice a bit raw. He blinks his tears away, the heat of the crackling fire scorching over his wound.

“Yes,” Stiles answers, tearing medical tape strips off the roll.

“Who?” Derek looks over his shoulder, his brows furrowing. He knows the answer before Stiles opens his mouth.

“Do you really want to have this conversation right now?”

“Yes.”

The doctor takes in a deep breath, his gaze tentative, lips pressed in a tight line. “Isaac, a few before him. They’re all dead now.”

Derek’s jaw hardens as he looks forward, the velvet backside of the armchair his only view. “Isaac isn’t dead.” But he will be if Derek has anything to do about it.

Stiles places a precut plastic wrap over the new mark, taping it in place, and Derek sucks in a sharp breath as he presses his face into the cushion.

“Isaac doesn’t have my collar.”

With a few shuddering breaths, Derek clenches his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut. “Did anyone else have your collar?”

“No,” Stiles says, the smile evident in his voice. He reaches out and runs his fingers through the hair on the back of Derek’s head. “You are not allowed to kill him. Your punishment will not be fun if you do.”

“Why won’t you let me kill him?” Derek feels Stiles’ lips on his neck, just above the buckle of his collar.

“Drop it, Derek.”

“Are you still fucking him?”

Stiles huffs out an exasperated breath, his fingers gripping in Derek’s hair before pulling him back and twisting his head to meet his gaze. Derek strains, planted on his knees, Stiles mirroring him. “I spend all my time with you. Do you really not know the answer to that?”

That’s not a yes or a no, and Derek’s jaw hardens, his eyes flicking between Stiles’ with knit brows and an obstinate glare.

Stiles purses his lips, frustrated. “No, I’m not still fucking him.”

Derek eases up a bit, still straining in his position as Stiles holds his head back, neck bared. “Then why can’t I kill him?”

“I said drop it, Derek. You’re going to have to trust me. You’ll understand when it’s time.”

It seems Derek doesn’t have a choice. He obeys, begrudgingly, and Stiles tends to him, passing him painkillers and water, feeding him before they go to bed. He lies over Stiles’ chest, ass cheek burning, and deliberates to himself as he stares into darkness.

Perhaps Derek can’t kill him, but cutting the brand off was never explicitly forbidden.

He’s known where Isaac works, where he lives, his favorite TV dinner, and all about his track record thanks to Stiles’ detailed notes and his own investigative work. He learned of Stiles’ brand on his skin fourteen hours ago, and in that time, he’s already got Isaac tied up and naked over his kitchen counter.

Derek could have just re-branded him, but he couldn’t bear to let Stiles’ brand exist beneath it. Instead, he flays the skin off, and Isaac passes out after screaming so hard, only waking up once Derek presses a glowing metal spatula over the bleeding flesh to cauterize the wound. He could have just let Isaac die from blood loss, but Derek is a good boy—he obeys his master, for the most part.

Isaac’s eyes are watery and dazed, his mouth taped shut as he glares wearily up at his offender, gaze flicking to the medallion hanging off Derek’s beloved necklace. Derek grips his jaw, glaring right back. “You don’t belong to him anymore.”

Derek tosses the removed skin into the garbage disposal and flicks it on, and Isaac watches with tears in his eyes, from the pain of his missing flesh or the loss of his master, Derek doesn’t really care. He fucks him for good measure, just to assert dominance and remind Isaac how powerless he is. When he cuts the ropes, Isaac lies there in shock, Derek’s cum leaking out of him.

The doctor praises him when he gets home, as if he’d expected nothing less.

“Clever boy,” he says as he kisses Derek’s temple and places a plate of food in front of him.

“How’d you know? You’ve had clients all day.”

“I’ve had a tracker on your phone for years, baby.”

Derek feels silly for even asking. no pressure tags: @demonicfaerie @endwersed @eevylynn @hellameyers @keldjinfae @violetfairydust @gege-wondering-around

[allthe-queens-men]

[captain-price-unofficially]

British troops with a captured Semovente self-propelled gun in German service, 19 May 1944

[beesgav]

it's not even that I dislike this design in isolation, he's just not who he says he is

[rennybu]

Can we see Bubby again? 😄💕

anon.. anon if you're still here from 2021 when you sent me this... yes you can of course you can 😭😭😭 crop of a bigger, more painterly than usual piece i hope 2 finish someday....

(@jawsandbones is the dm who bestowed us with a perfect bird son)

[deadmomjokes]

She's scared of heights.

My dog is scared of heights. We live in a townhome with three levels and (somehow) four flights of stairs.

She also can't figure out how to do stairs. She can do two steps max. Three and she starts turning stress circles and whining. She attempted the stairs once and wiped out spectacularly on the transition to stair three. She is currently incapable of 3+ stairs, up or down. Again, we live in a house with over 20 stairs.

This wouldn't be too big a problem, as even at her ideal weight she'll be less than 10 lbs. Easily carryable until she gets some practice and figures it out. But then, she is approximately ten inches tall, and the people capable of carrying her up the stairs are 6-9 times that height. Remember, she is scared of heights.

This poor creature must choose the lesser evil 7+ times a day and allow herself to be tormented by The Uppies or else live her life confined to the bottom half of the "first" level of the home.

And worst of all, the dejected, resigned look on her face when she crawls over and asks for help after the second step is truly hilarious.

[elftwink]

one thing thats so interesting about being a vegetarian is you get to hear all about everyones hypothetical activism that they care about very deeply when talking specifically about your diet and why it's stupid, but literally will never bring up ever again in any other context

[gerfball37]

(idw sonic #75 spoilers!!!!!!!!!!)🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

honestly while i 100% understand being kind of disappointed at how anticlimactic mimic's cover getting blown ended up being (hell it wasn't exactly my first choice as to how they could've done it either), i do think it's kind of funny how it all ended up boiling down to a single random slipup that wasn't even entirely his fault

[lannisterdaddyissues]

god why am i so fucking stupid. having adhd is truly a curse and i hate bearing it

[bedforddanes75]

need my nose pierced right now

[put-me-out-of-my-destiny]

If you're still interested in that show at least tag it as "devil may cry netflix" or something like that.

[icewindandboringhorror]

currently at That Point which occurs once every few months where one briefly begins pacing around the house teary eyed contemplating selling their own organs or becoming an online scammer or getting on anxiety meds so you can bear the risk taking required to be a hitman or so on and so forth.... why must everything so Expensive... Surely all would be healed in life if only I had one big plate of lasagna and a simple loan of $40,000 ... auoughhh....

[allthe-queens-men]

[hoziersredguitar]

I miss old tumblr in the sense that i could complain about board exams and worrying about not getting enough to be eligible for my medical entrance test and i'd have summoned half the indian side of tumblr to sympathize