#THANK YOU FOR GETTING IT OP AND THE ADDED TAGS

[the-far-bright-center]

#'all i want is your love' his wife pleads with him#'love won't save you! only my new powers can do that!' he answers while drowning in the dark side#'love can ignite the stars' the story stubbornly insists and it doesn't give up until it saves him and the entire galaxy (via @caracynthia)

#FEAR DESTROYED HIM. LOVE SAVED HIM.#HIS FEAR OF LOSING THOSE HE LOVED OVERRODE HIS LOVE AND CAUSED HIS FALL#HIS LOVE FOR HIS SON OVERRODE HIS FEAR OF PALPATINE AND CAUSED HIS RISE!!!#ITS ABOUT LOVE!!! (starts crying) ITS ABOUT LOVE!!!!!! (via @inked-explores)

^YES! All of the above!

i actually have one more thing to say. love saved anakin. love literally saved anakin. the love anakin skywalker had for his wife and subsequently their children, the love luke had for his father, is what saved anakin. it’s what destroyed the dark side. star wars is very much a love story. thanks. 

[viceroywrites]

deja vu - part 1

i decided to make a full-fledged multi-chapter fic out of this idea that i posted a few days ago with a cyoa ending potentially

thanks so much to everyone who showed so much love for it and hope you enjoy this series!

this is my first time writing for gravity falls so i hope to do it justice!

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

original fic idea | part two

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii /

@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby

He wasn’t in bed.

You woke up in the middle of the night to find the space beside you empty, the blankets cool to touch, indicating that a warm body had not even slipped into the sheets. Begrudgingly, you slip out of the warm comfort of your bed to search for your lover.

Your bare feet pad against the wood floorboards, creaking with each step you take. Your fingers balancing a candle that you used to illuminate the way, too lazy to try and turn on the lights. 

You descend down to the basement, pushing open the metal door that reveals an intricate lab full of oddities and gadgets with a triangle shaped portal looming just behind the glass window. You let out a yawn, approaching the figure that had his back turned towards you. His six-fingers spin the pen in his hand effortlessly as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand.

Your soft yet groggy voice calls out as you place your hand on his shoulder, “Ford, come to bed. Your research will be here in the morning.”

Stanford jumps at your sudden touch before relaxing when he hears the sound of your voice. He puts his pen down, placing his hand over yours with his thumb running soothingly over the back of your hand, “I’ll be there soon, just head back upstairs. I just need to finish this last equation that's been driving me mad the whole day.”

“Stanford…” You say with an edge to your voice, knowing that he could easily stay up the rest of the night working tirelessly on this portal that he had been working on for the past few months.

“Alright… I concede. You win this round, my dear.” Ford sighs, turning to face you finally with a tired smile. He gets up from his seat, pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head before following you up the stairs but not before looking back at the portal.

-

You had the dream again.

It always starts the same. Walking down a staircase, the floorboards creaked with each step you took. Your eyelids feel heavy almost as if you’re resisting the urge to fall asleep. Your feet carrying you down to a basement. The warm flames of the candle you hold illuminating the way.

Your fingertips push the cool metal frame of the door to reveal a figure sitting in front of a desk, facing away from you. Your hand reaches out to touch their shoulder and as they turn around to reveal their face to you, you awaken.

Your eyes open abruptly, staring at the dark ceiling as your alarm echoes through the empty room. Slowly sitting up in bed, you instinctively reach across to turn off your alarm and turn on your lamp before your hand reaches to open the drawer of your bedside table, feeling around for something. Your fingertips brush against leather and wrap around the item, pulling it out to reveal a journal.

These dreams happened almost every night over the years. It had gotten to a point where you started logging them, just trying to find any pattern or meaning behind them.

You turn to the page labeled ‘The Basement’ - adding another tally mark in the margins that you used to keep track of the frequency of each dream. You close your eyes, trying to conjure up any distinguishable features from this mystery person but nothing new arises. 

Sighing, you shut the leather-bound journal, putting it to the side.

Now was not the time to be worrying about your cryptic dreams, you were supposed to be getting ready for the trip you had been planning for the past few months. 

A road trip through the Pacific Northwest, starting in Northern California and making your way up to Seattle.

You hop out of bed to start getting ready for your journey ahead. After completing your morning routine and slipping on some comfortable clothing for the long drive, you make your way to the kitchen, grabbing the map that was stuck to the fridge with a magnet from your alma mater, Backupsmore. 

Having already packed your bags into the car the night before, your feet make a beeline out the door, wanting to hit the road before sunrise to give you enough time to hit the places you wanted to visit on the way up to your final destination for the day, Portland. 

Unraveling the map in your lap, your eyes scan over it, reviewing over the route you had planned out today. Your gaze lingered on one particular spot you had circled closer to Portland that was unlike any of the stops you had chosen.

Gravity Falls.

You couldn’t explain what drew you in to choose this town to stop in out of all the surrounding towns near Portland. You knew that you had an old friend, Fiddleford, who had moved out to this area to do research. You had even visited him once during his time out there. However, you hadn’t heard from Fiddleford in years, correspondence seemingly dropping off as he stopped answering your calls and your letters always ended up returning to you.

Trying to push aside thoughts of your lost connection, you put your car in reverse, pulling out of your parking spot and heading out onto the open road. The winding roads take you through the lush forests that enveloped the region. As each hour passed, you could see the sun slowly starting to make its way up the horizon and decided to stop to watch the sunrise at Redwood National Park. 

After the brief stop that you used to stretch your legs and grab a cup of coffee, you make your way back on the road. Your original plan was to stop at almost every National Park on the way up to Oregon but after hitting a pocket of traffic that put you behind a whole hour, you decide to skip a few stops and make your way directly to the town of Gravity Falls, figuring it would be your last stop with the remaining amount of daylight you had left.

Unfortunately, you had hit another bump in the road, pretty much derailing the first day of your methodically planned out trip.

Your car had suddenly stopped in the middle of the forest about five miles out from the town.

Cursing under your breath, you step out to assess the cause of your delay. Your hands pop open the hood of your car, breathing a slight sigh of relief when you don’t see any steam or smoke. Figuring that the most likely cause is the battery dying on you, you pull out your phone, trying to look up the nearest towing company to hopefully bring you into town to get it looked at.

As you’re waiting for the screen to load due to the poor signal out in this forested area, a gruff voice calls out, asking if you need a hand.

You look up to see a red convertible with the phrase ‘El Diablo’ etched on the side on the other side of the road. Its owner, a man with gray hair, glasses and a stubbled yet chiseled jawline, wearing a black tank, a shiny medallion that sat on his exposed graying chest hairs, and a brown leather jacket, stares back at you, one hand on the steering wheel while his arm dangles lazily outside of the rolled down window.

You pause, taken aback as something about his features seems… familiar. You quickly snap out of your stupor, realizing you’ve just been standing there in silence.

"Uhm… yeah if you have jumper cables, I just need to get my car running to get to the next town and hopefully get a replacement battery,” You reply, figuring this option would be way cheaper than hiring a whole tow truck.

"Of course, I have jumper cables, toots - look at my car, you think I haven't been stranded out here myself." The stranger chuckles, making an effortless U-Turn with one hand before pulling his car close to yours. Your cheeks warm at the nickname given to you by this man you met literally seconds ago, This guy’s a total silver fox.

You step to the side to give him access to hook up the jumper cables after he fishes them out of his own trunk. You both stand in silence while he attaches the cables to your car before his deep voice cuts through, "So uh, what brings you out here? You just driving through?"

You almost chuckle at his awkward attempt to make small talk, "Sort of. I'm doing a whole road trip through the Pacific Northwest. I was gonna check out this town ahead, Gravity Falls, before I make my way up to Portland."

The older man blinks, expecting you to just be passing through the town at this time of a day. Normally, tourists only stop into town in the early hours of the day on their own journeys up north. His lips spread into a grin, pulling out a business card from his leather jacket. "Well, if you're stopping by, you gotta check out the Mystery Shack! One stop shop for mysterious oddities!"

You take the business card with a giant question mark on the front. He retreats back to his car, turning on his engine before nodding over at you as a signal for you to start up your own engine. You slip back into the car, slipping the card into your pocket before turning on the ignition. You breathe a sigh of relief as your car stutters back to life. Glancing up, you see him grinning back at you before the two of you step out of your respective vehicles.

“Thanks again for your help… sorry, I didn’t catch your name. I’m Y/N.” You say, extending your hand out in gratitude. The silver fox’s large hand envelops yours, shaking your hand firmly, “Stan Pines, nice to meet ya. It’s no problem, wouldn’t want to leave a lady like yourself stranded in the middle of the woods.”

“Do you say that to all the ladies that end up stranded in the woods?” You can’t help but tease, earning a hearty chuckle from Stan. “Well, let’s just say that’s not a common occurrence out here. So you thinkin’ about stopping by the Mystery Shack?”

You pause, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you thumb the edge of the business card Stan had given you. On one hand, you should probably be heading back on the road to make it to Portland and this Mystery Shack sounded like a tourist trap. On the other hand, the sun was starting to set and you weren’t keen on driving through the forest in the dark. Maybe it would be best if you stayed the night in this quaint town and start again the next morning. As you look up at Stan, you make your decision, deciding to appease the man who helped you so graciously.

You also had to admit you found him quite charming and curiosity got the better of you.

“Sure, lead the way.” You say with a casual shrug. Stan grins, “I’ll make sure you get a personal tour of the Mystery Shack. No need to worry about other tourists.” Your eyebrow raises in amusement before slipping into your car, “What, you know the owner?” You blink at the smirk that spreads across Stan’s lips, “Sweetheart, you’re looking at the former owner, Mr. Mystery himself.”

You bite back a giggle, “No wonder you were laying it on thick, just trying to get more tourists to visit, huh?” Stan rolls his eyes mirthfully “Hey, I was trying to lend a helping hand… though I have a good sales pitch, don’t I?” He grins, shooting finger guns towards you with a wink.

This’ll be interesting. You think to yourself as you follow behind Stan in your car, pulling into the empty lot of the Mystery Shack. You snort, seeing how the S dangles off the side spelling out Mystery Hack, before pointing it out to Stan as he exits his car. His features grimace as he grumbles out, “I noticed” before beckoning you to follow him, twirling his keys on his index finger.

Stan proceeded to give you a detailed tour of the Mystery Shack, spinning elaborate tales surrounding the variety of taxidermy animals that he had mismatched together. Despite the absurdity of it all, you can’t help but get sucked into his tales, seeing the clear passion and excitement he had for this place. You burst out into laughter at the sight of the Sascrotch to which Stan beamed at, “Good one, right? Probably one of the highlights of the Mystery Shack.”

You weaved your way through the shack, though there were certain sections of it that looked oddly familiar. Almost like you had walked down these hallways before. A wave of deja vu hit you as you walked through the doorway into the gift shop. “Usually this is the part where I try to sell people on an overpriced souvenir but I have a feeling that the whole schtick isn’t gonna work on you, is it?” Stan admits.

“Probably not but I’ll take a look around and see if there’s anything that catches my eye.” You chuckle, making your way around the space as your eyes scan the various trinkets. Your fingertips run across the mugs with question marks painted on them. You decide to use this opportunity to make small talk as you mill around the gift shop while Stan leans back against the counter, “So, you said you’re the former owner? Who owns it now?”

“One of my former employees, Soos. Kid’s been working for me since he was… well a kid. Only person with as much passion as me about this place.” Stan says, glancing over at the Employee of the Month picture that still hung behind the counter that showed a younger Soos. “What made you step down as owner?” You hum, thumbing through the t-shirt rack. 

Stan smiles fondly, “Me and my twin brother actually just got back from traveling, we’re only in town for the summer. It was always our dream to travel the world together by boat, and we finally got to make that happen.” You look up, smiling at how warmly he spoke of his brother. Stan catches you staring and crosses his arms defensively, “What?”

“Nothing,” You say, shaking your head before thumbing through the assortment of keychains and stickers that were displayed. “So twin brother, huh? What’s he like?”

“You’re sure asking a lot of questions… not sure if I should be flattered but it feels like I’m being interrogated by a government official.” Stan comments with a grin. You pause with dramatic effect before looking up and admitting, “Well technically, I do work for the government.”

Stan freezes, his stance becoming defensive as he looks you up and down, “Oh shit, really? Man, these cover-ups are getting better and better but I swear I haven’t broken any laws… recently at least.” Your warm laughter fills the room, finding the look on his face priceless, “Relax, I work for the National Parks.” Stan’s posture relaxes at the realization and he rolls his eyes, “Alright, you got me good. So what do you do? Are you like a park ranger or something?”

“No, I’m a geoscientist. I pretty much study rocks and fossils. Kinda boring day to day but sometimes I’ll come across a precious gemstone and keep it for myself… even though we’re not supposed to take anything off a dig site.” You admit sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Using the government’s resources to your own advantage? I like the way you think.” Stan chuckles.

You pick out a magnet to add to your fridge when you return as a reminder of your side quest at the Mystery Shack. Stan rings you up though you notice a significant markdown in the original price after he insists on giving you the employee discount. As you walk out of the gift shop outside, you round the corner back to your car. 

Little did you know that you would run into the man that you once loved as someone with a long tan trench coat was outside fiddling with a device with his back turned to you. Stan elbows you in the arm to catch your attention, "That's my poindexter brother that I mentioned, Ford. He's always working on some geeky invention."

"You know I can hear you, Stanley?" Ford sighs, turning around to face you two.

Time slows down as he meets your eyes, memories flooding back to him before landing on the last memory he had of you - your back turning away from him, your hand slipping through his fingers after he chose to continue with his research despite your pleas.

He freezes, seeing the woman that left him all those years ago, "Y/N?" He calls out to you.

You blink, staring back at this man that you had never met before calling out your name.

Stan is just as confused as you are, looking between the two of you. 

You tilt your head in confusion, “Uhm… sorry, have we met before? How do you know my name?”

[httpsserene]

𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐰/𝐥𝐧𝟒

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you’re upset with the switch up the internet has pulled on you. a few years ago, everybody was saying you were too pretty for lando, but now they’re drooling over him? you will not be letting this slide.  📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: fluff. mild angst. humor. twt users being twt users. reader is a fashion designer (not important but mentioned). reader is also wild af. brain-rot. not beta-read. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lando norris x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smau. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: spice girl • aminé

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: in honor of lando's birthday :) look y’all—i saw one tik tok edit that was like “why is lando kinda…” and i audibly said KINDA???? and then i got mad like, how are people just noticing how fine he is. and then i saw another one that was like, “oh everybody thinks charles is the prettiest on the grid…but now introducing: lando” and i almost threw my phone across the room :) so this is inspired by me flexing that i have always thought lando was fine, and that i’m also mad that i have to share him. loves, this is complete brain rot and it took me years to recreate these ig posts for some reason; have fun reading !!!

all pics are from pinterest/op's

want to be added to my taglist or submit a request? send me an ask!

all of my posts can be found from my table of contents

anything on your mind? talk to me!

twitter • three years ago, 2020

instagram

yninstagram • three years ago, 2020

liked by landonorris, mclaren, maxfewtrell, lewishamilton, and 16,175,978 others

yninstagram lando norris is the man i want to spend the rest of my life with. he’s perfection personified. the most soft, kindest, sweetest, considerate, and funniest man has allowed me the privilege of being his girlfriend. i’m forever thankful that we get to grow together. he’s the cutest, hottest, and prettiest boy to ME–and that’s all i care about, and that’s all you need to accept. i don’t give a FUCK about your opinions on who *i* should date. i’m the only person who’s decisions matter concerning my romantic relationships. why the hell should y’all bitches who don’t even use their own photos for their pfp’s and use a k-idol’s face instead, dictate who is hot or not. it’s incredibly vein, disgusting, and immature behavior from people who think they’re my fans. acting like jealous school children isn't cute; i was never your property. it’s hilarious too, considering some of y’all are grown women DOUBLE my age talking shit about my business–go worry about why your kids don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

tagged landonorris

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yninstagram matter of fact, go ahead and change your little profile pictures to real pictures of you, i don’t want to see any filters. then we can all see that all y’all want to do is spread insecurity stemming from your own self-hatred 🙂

yninstagram and while i have you all here, my winter season clothes will be restocked on the 15th.

comments have been disabled.

twitter • imessage • 2023

instagram

landonorris • august 24th • zandvoort ⚑

liked by yninstagram, mclaren, carlossainzjr, and 547,930 others

landonorris back in my favorite place

view comments

yninstagram first!! stay back hoes 🤺🤺

➥ user being called a hoe by y/n is not what i expected this year

➥ user she has notif’s 😭on 😭 for 😭 lando 😭

yninstagram how r u so HOT 🥵

yninstagram that sweater is mine now 👺

➥ landonorris i can just get another for you love

➥ yninstagram …i want this one lan🫤

➥ landonorris okay it’s yours 🫠

user neither of them have any backbone when it comes to each other

➥ yninstagram as it should be 😤

user might have to trip and fall into lando’s arms this weekend

➥ yninstagram i’m flying in tomorrow rethink your plan 🙂

➥ user i think i’ll avoid lando like the plague this weekend 😅

➥ user smart decision babes

landonorris • september 12th

liked by yninstagram, lnfour, tumitravel, and 425,395 others

landonorris coming in hot @ tumitravel

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yninstagram come in me—i mean come home to me haha 😳😊

➥ landonorris babe please not in front of the sponsors 😧

➥ tumitravel oh no pls don’t stop for us 🫣 we stan y/n

user i saw this photo shoot LIVE!!! lando was so sweet, he signed my hat for me, and he smells so good 😩😩

➥ yninstagram i’ll chop off your nose and then you can be voldemort for halloween 👺

user i don’t know if i want to choke him or have him choke ME

➥ yninstagram how about me choking you

➥ user omg i’m down for a threesome 😳

➥ yninstagram choking you to death :)

➥ user i don’t wanna play this game anymore

landonorris • september 18th • singapore ⚑

liked by yninstagram, mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 950,706 others

landonorris whatttaaaaa weekend ❤

view comments

yninstagram GODDAMN

carlossainzjr vamossss landito ❤️💪🏼🏆

➥ landonorris ayyyy 🧡🥳🥳

➥ yninstagram my boysssss 🥰

yninstagram that’s my boyfriend 🤤

➥ landonorris last photo is just for you 😋

yninstagram so proud of you baby, i’m running out of room to put all these trophies <3

➥ landonorris v happy to be your trophy husband

user i’m in love with this singapore haircut 🤤 thank you for not fucking it up lando 😅

➥ yninstagram mmm yes, i’m thrilled it’s still long on the top 😍 it gives me something to tug on

user surprised y/n allowed him to post that last one

➥ yninstagram he doesn’t need my permission, but i get to see him naked so i rdc

user quadrant helmet it so beautiful! i want it to stay 😭

➥ user i want him to fuck me with it on

➥ yninstagram out of pocket…but completely valid honestly—delete your account 😊

liked by landonorris

yninstagram carlando 1-2 makes up for the war i’m fighting in these comments

mclaren • novemeber 8th

liked by landonorris, f1, yninstagram, and 97,293 others

mclaren pulling up fresh with @ landonorris

view comments

yninstagram not pictured: @ landonorris pulling up to OUR flat

➥ user y/n said “he’s coming home with meeeee”

f1 does he come with the jacket👀

➥ yninstagram no, but the price of me folding you like a lawn chair is included in shipping & handling

➥ f1 i’ll go sit down 😅

➥ user she’s fighting the f1 main??? this is mentally-ill behavior y/n!!!

yninstagram mclaren admin go stand in a corner and stare at the wall

➥ mclaren they made me post this!!! i would NEVER risk upsetting you ma’am 🙇🏼‍♀️

➥ yninstagram no talking from the timeout corner 🫵🏽

user we don’t care about the jacket. which organ do i have to sell to buy an hour with him?

➥ yninstagram both kidneys

➥ user but you need at least one kidney to live?

➥ yninstagram how,,,unfortunate

user model!lando always glowssssss

➥ yninstagram it’s the 9 step skincare routine i have him on, you can follow steps 1-8 on his ig

➥ user what’s step 9?

➥ yninstagram kissing me 🤭

lando.jpg • novemeber 13th • with my wife ⚑

liked by yninstagram, carlossainzjr, mclaren, team_quadrant, and 976,234 others

lando.jpg lucky to have found you so early in my life. you're my best birthday gift.

tagged yninstagram

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yninstagram posting my side boob on the jpg account? forgiven since you called me your wife 🥺

➥ lando.jpg thought i’d start practicing your future title, mrs. norris

➥ yninstagram come back to bed. you can start practicing giving me your kids too.

user i want y/n to bury my head in between her boobs

➥ lando.jpg no. i sleep there also—you’re blocked 🤗

danielricciardo as long as i’m the godfather, i can forget i’ve ever read this 🤮

➥carlossainzjr get in line mate, i’ve called being baby norris’ godfather ages ago

➥maxverstappen wait your turn mates, clearly i am the correct choice for godfather

➥maxfewtrell ah, i believe you lads have forgotten my existence

➥yninstagram baby norris doesn’t exist yet, no need to fight to the death rn 🙄

➥lando.jpg i’ll convince the mrs to have four, for my racing number and so you each have a godchild 😅

user y/n may have won the war, but i’ve won the battle—bisexuals have been fed today!!!

➥user girl, i’m straight and i’ve zoomed in on the last photo an unhealthy amount of times

➥user i diagnose you with y/n-sexuality it’s incredibly common in humans

liked by lando.jpg

oscarpiastri you two are made for each other 😀

➥lando.jpg this sounds like an insult 🙂

➥yninstagram i thought kids under 13 weren’t allowed on ig

➥oscarpiastri you’re not even a year older than me @ yninstagram

mclaren mama y papa

➥ yninstagram still on timeout.

➥ mclaren :(

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

© httpsserene2023

[yther]

Usually prompts don't give me such a viscerally poignant sense of a complete story, but I instantly felt how a theme otherwise too complex would blossom through this as a character driven plot...

The element of a questionably reliable narrator really excites me. This prompt is phrased so perfectly, as it seems to imply knowledge encompasses a space outside of both relative and empirical truths.

I'm dying to know why nothing is as it seems, which is means I need to write it out. That is delicious motivation.

#cheatcode: blame the character for plot holes, experience true freedom

You are a criminal wanted by multiple planets, various afterlives, across several different timelines. Yet, you have no idea why. You have never tried to committed any crimes to your knowledge.

[hacvek]

🌑 nightmeows 🔁 dogfandomfandom Follow

clan-showdown-official-deactivated-80-0

Welcome to the Official Clan Showdown, an official tournament to decide the best clan of all! I'll be letting this run for a quarter-moon so hopefully cats from all corners of the forest can vote!

So let's settle this once and for all, through democracy rather than violence

which clan is the best?

ThunderClan ❚❚ 6.3%

WindClan ❚❚❚❚ 11.2%

RiverClan ❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚ 33.6%

ShadowClan ❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚ 20.3%

I'm a kittypet that just wants to press a button ❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚❚ 28.6%

3384 votes · Poll ends in 1 day 890 birdsongs

🦇🔁 lichenlikehim Follow

windclan bros....

🍄🔁 shrewd-and-wondervole

Something's not adding up. Even discounting the kittypet option, there are way more voters than there are Clan cats.

⚡🔁 thunderclan-official Follow

there are numbers above 5?

🦁🔁 the-lionesse Follow

y'all i figured out why the vote counts are so high. sparrowsong from riverclan just went out and gave birth to fifty kits and signed them all up for clanblr accounts jkldfjslkfd

🪱🔁 wormdefender Follow

op is having a breakdown about thunderclan not winning btw

🐺🔁 dogfandom Follow

OP: here's a silly poll!

cats: get a little silly with it

OP: YOU HAVE COMMITTED VIOLENCE AGAINST ME AND MY MOTHER

#oh so this is what's going on #but where is the breakdown post #edit: i found it 2,349 notes ➡️🗨️🔁❤️

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🐸 dreamsofgreenleaf

here's how thunderclan can still win

#is this anything #mine 1 note ➡️🗨️🔁❤️

Oopsie! An error was encountered when reblogging. Try again? You've exceeded your daily post limit.

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🍄 shrewd-and-wondervole 🔁 the-lionesse Follow

Anonymous mewed: wait how did sparrowspong give birth to fifty kits at once

🦁 the-lionesse Follow

she slept with multiple toms. hope that helps.

#interesting #i didn't know that was possible! #bio tag 230 notes ➡️🗨️🔁🤍

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🪳 starclansfavoriteplaything 🔁 dirteater

Anonymous mewed: i found someone's mirrorleaf still logged into their clanblr at the gathering and voted for shadowclan. i'm not even a clan cat i just got lost while playing outside

🙀 clan-confessions

.

🪶🔁 pheasantcatcher Follow

anon is braver than any thunderclan warrior

🌿🔁 herbmother Follow

This is what StarClan wants for us. To do the right thing even when we won't get credit for it.

🪳🔁 starclansfavoriteplaything

RARE KITTYPET W

#YOU ARE THE REASON WE CANT HAVE PEACE #lmto [Editor's note: 'laughing my tail off'] 3,401 notes ➡️🗨️🔁❤️

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🕸️ foxtails 🔁 greencoughtiger Follow

🐭 mouse ✔️✔️

the winner is not shadowclan or riverclan or anyone else. the winner is voter fraud

#prev wtf you can't join clanblr until you're at least twelve moons of age 3,925 notes ➡️🗨️🔁🤍

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🪳 starclansfavoriteplaything 🔁 dirteater

🐈 freshkillz Follow

feeling lonely need me a she-cat with a mottled pelt and thick tail rn

🦋🔁 moon--moth Follow

not now the entirety of thunderclan was just murdered

#READ THE CAMP 129 notes ➡️🗨️🔁🤍

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🐸 dreamsofgreenleaf 🔁 mewsogyny Follow

purrzerk-deactivated-80-01m-04d mewed: You can't get pregnant with multiple litters at once. Talk to your medicine cat before spouting misinformation on clanblr

🦁 the-lionesse Follow

i'm literally a medicine cat apprentice but go off

🐷🔁 tomsplaining-archive Follow

Example #163

#get his tail 778 notes ➡️🗨️🔁🤍

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◼️ dirteater 🔁 cats-posting-their-ls Follow

clan-showdown-official-deactivated-80-0

To everycat that reblogged and voted in my poll in good faith, I thank you.

Clearly something fishy is afoot, whether that's from kits birthed for the purpose of this poll, or popular blogs like @​mouse and @swanstar-official badgering their kittypet followers to vote for their Clan. And clearly the subversion does not come from all sides in this debate. I have half a mind to declare ThunderClan the winner, just out of spite.

If RiverClan or ShadowClan 'wins' by cheating, fraud, intimidation, and manipulation, does that 'prove' that it is the best? Hardly. It only proves that such Clans are willing to gain any advantage by any means—including dishonorable ones. Can you trust that such cats won't resort to dirty tactics in snout-to-snout interactions? At the Gathering? In war? Cats like you are the reason we will never have peace.

I won't lie, I'm a bit distraught right now. But I probably should not have expected anything else from this StarClan-forsaken webbedsight. I will never be doing anything like this for you mangy cats ever again. Goodbye.

#this kitty really thought he was going to win the nuzzle peace prize with this poll #my brother in starclan this is not a forest of honor 2,064 notes ➡️🗨️🔁❤️

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🌑 nightmeows 🔁 malecalico

🤵 actualtwoleg

i didn't even knowed that there wass so many cats in this beuatifal world. woag

🌞🔁 malecalico

only valid ally

#can someone explain what is going on 64 notes ➡️🗨️🔁❤️

[ltash]

Make a wish

You celebrated your birthday with Ghost and TaskForce and you wished for nothing but him.

"To love is nothing. To be loved is something. But to love and be loved, that’s everything."

After Captain Price and his team finished breakfast, you settled in the living room. You brought the tea trolley over and made them tea, handing a cup and saucer to everyone.

"Thank you, kid," Captain Price said as you served him.

You gave tea to Soap and Gaz too. "Ghost, you want tea?" you asked.

"Sure," he replied.

You handed him a cup as well. "Yer hoose is braw, and it's right lavish an aw." Soap admired.

"English Mctavish." Ghost facepalmed.

"I said your house is lavish and its nice." Soap explained.

"Thank you. My father built it. I'll give you a home tour once you guys finish your tea," you offered.

"She is a master in archery aye. She has horses too. She can shoot an arrow right at the aim while riding a horse," Ghost added.

"That is impressive, Nora," Gaz admired.

"Thanks. I will show you how I do it," you promised.

"Oh, I forgot," you said, suddenly remembering. "I did some shopping and the bags are still in the car. Let me fetch them."

As you made your way to your car, Ghost followed you. "The guns you bought, let me take them inside," he offered.

You opened the car doors and took out the bags while Ghost grabbed the gun cases. Together, you walked back inside.

You handed over the bags to each one of them. "Soap, this is for you. Kyle, that's one for you. This one's for Simon and Captain Price," you said, distributing the gifts.

"Thank you so much, lass," Soap said rummaging through the bag.

"Are ye pullin' ma leg? how much did ye spend on thae things?" He asked.

"Well! That is none of your business. Gifts don't come with a price tag." You folded your arms on your chest.

"Thanks, Nora, but you didn't have to put in so much effort," Kyle added, looking genuinely touched.

"Thanks, kid," Captain Price mentioned, nodding appreciatively.

"Don't mention it. I went shopping and thought, why not grab something for you guys?"

Ghost placed the gun cases down on the table. "She bought these too," he added.

Ghost opened the gun and sniper cases in front of everyone, revealing the impressive weapons inside.

"Whoa! A sniper! Are you kiddin' me?" Soap exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. "Whit will ye dae wi' a sniper?"

"I like snipers, plus Ghost is here. He’ll teach me before he goes back. He taught me a couple of days ago," you explained with a grin.

"Wow! This is one o' the best snipers in the world," Soap said, admiring the sleek design. "Thank ye so much."

"Yeah, Ghost recommended it to me, so I got it," you said, glancing at Ghost.

Soap looked over at Ghost in disbelief. "Weel, LT himself disnae hae a sniper like this. It's much better than the ones he's got."

You smiled. "Well, now he has it."

Ghost shook his head. "No, I don't. And I don't want it anyway," he said quietly.

Soap chuckled. "Yer loss, LT. This is a beauty."

Ghost simply shrugged, the rare softness in his eyes replaced by his usual stoic expression.

"Why? It's a gift from me to you," you said, looking at Ghost.

"If you had mentioned it when you were buying it, I would have never let you get it in the first place," Ghost replied. "It's too expensive."

You shook your head. "Gifts don't come with a price tag. Captain Price, please make him understand."

"Take it, Ghost," Captain Price said, nodding.

"I can't, Price," Ghost insisted, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Okay, then throw it in the garbage, will you?" You snapped, shutting the sniper case with a bang. Your lower lip started quivering, and tears welled up in your eyes as you ran upstairs.

"You broke her heart, LT," Soap said, his voice filled with disappointment.

You closed the door and fell face-first onto the pillow, tears streaming down your face. It was so embarrassing and disappointing at the same time. Your sobs filled the room, muffled by the pillow.

A soft knock on the door interrupted your crying. "Open the door, love," Ghost said in a gentle tone.

For a moment, you hesitated, your emotions swirling inside you, but then you slowly got up and walked to the door.

You opened the door, still feeling annoyed and hurt. "What do you want?" You said, your voice tinged with frustration.

Ghost came inside and closed the door behind him. He walked over to your bed and sat down, he pat his thigh and opened his arms for you gesturing for you to come sit on his lap.

For a moment, you stood there, conflicted, but then you slowly walked over and allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting arms.

"You cryin', love?" Ghost asked softly.

You wiped your tears hastily. "No," you replied, trying to regain your composure.

"Hmm, I see," he said, his gaze understanding.

"Why did you embarrass me in front of your team?" You asked, your voice tinged with hurt.

"You got it for yourself, love. That's why," he replied simply.

"I can get another one for myself," You insisted.

"Okay, I'll take it, but only on one condition," he said.

"What condition exactly?" You asked, curious.

"You'll have to take mine. I'll teach you how to use it. It's smooth in my hands," he explained.

"Okay, deal!" You agreed, offering your hand to shake, but he surprised you by kissing your knuckles.

"Come, let's go downstairs," he said, taking your hand gently.

"Ghost!" You called out as he turned to leave.

He looked back at you. "Yes?"

"Do you still have your navy blue uniform, the one you wore when I saw you for the first time?" You asked, still holding his hand.

"Yes, but why do you ask?" he inquired.

"Will you wear it for me on my birthday? You look so good in that. I'll unwrap you as my gift," you said, giggling at the thought.

"Yeah, sure, but get ready to explain why I'm wearing it to my team, especially Price," he chuckled.

"Leave it to me. No worries," you assured him, and you made your way downstairs.

"Did you change your mind, LT?" Soap asked as you entered the room.

"Yes," Ghost replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Good," Soap said, nodding in approval.

Meanwhile, you glanced into Captain Price's eyes, seeing a mixture of curiosity and intrigue reflecting back at you.

You led them to the back of the house where your horses were stabled.

"Meet Arther and Elfie," You introduced Soap to your beloved companions.

"Such bonnie horses," Soap remarked, admiring their beauty.

Next, you demonstrated your archery skills, drawing back the bowstring with precision and releasing it with practiced ease. Captain Price watched intently, a glint of admiration in his eyes.

"Remarkable," he exclaimed, genuinely impressed by your proficiency.

Ghost retrieved his sniper rifle and handed it to you. "Try it," he encouraged.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of the weapon in your hands. With his guidance, you took aim, your finger hovering over the trigger. The rifle trembled slightly as you pulled, but you managed to hit the target, albeit not as accurately as you had hoped.

"It's not easy," you admitted, feeling a twinge of disappointment.

"But you did well, considering," Ghost reassured you, his tone encouraging.

You smiled gratefully, grateful for his support.

As the evening descended, the cake was delivered, marking the beginning of your birthday celebration. Your house help had meticulously arranged all the decorations and table settings before bidding you farewell for the night.

Meanwhile, Captain Price took the opportunity to discuss their upcoming mission with his team, their voices low and serious as they strategized.

Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, you retreated to your room to change into your birthday dress. The corset that came with it proved to be a challenge as you struggled to zip it up on your own. Frustrated, you knocked on Ghost's door, hoping for assistance.

He opened the door, and your jaw dropped at the sight before you. He had changed into the navy blue uniform, looking incredibly attractive in it.

"What happened?" he asked, noticing your expression.

You entered his room and closed the door behind you. "Simon, can you please help me zip my dress? I can't reach it," you requested, feeling a rush of embarrassment.

Standing in front of the mirror, you were almost ready, the dress clinging to your figure. He stepped behind you, his presence towering over yours. The corset accentuated your petite frame, making you feel even smaller in comparison.

His gloved hand brushed against the bare skin of your back as he took hold of the zipper, and you sucked in a breath at the unexpected sensation. Your heart raced as you felt the warmth of his touch, his closeness sending shivers down your spine.

He zipped up your dress smoothly, his voice breaking the silence. "You're good now," he said softly, his words lingering in the air between you.

"Thank you," you murmured gratefully as you turned around. He put his index finger beneath your chin and tilted your head up meeting his gaze.

"Ready to be be my good girl tonight. Will ya?" His masked lips touched your cheek.

You blushed and ran towards the door. Standing at the doorway you peaked a last glance at him. You exited Ghost's room and returned to your own.

As Ghost stepped out of his room, he encountered Soap making his way upstairs.

"Going on a mission, LT?" Soap teased, noting Ghost's uniform.

"Yes, birthday mission," Ghost quipped in response.

"Seriously! Why are you wearing your uniform?" Soap inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Because she asked me to wear it," Ghost explained simply.

"Hmm, I see. She likes you in it," Soap remarked before continuing downstairs, leaving Ghost to ponder his words.

They all waited for you downstairs, their anticipation palpable in the air. With a final glance in the mirror, you made sure everything was perfect before slipping on your heels and descending the staircase.

As you reached the bottom step, you were greeted by their warm smiles.

"Here she is," Captain Price announced, his voice carrying a note of pride.

"Wow! Lass, you're looking so beautiful," Soap complimented, his eyes twinkling with admiration.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks at his kind words.

You couldn't help but notice Ghost's gaze fixed on you, practically staring. His intense scrutiny made you feel vulnerable, as if he was seeing right through you. Yet, amidst the intensity, there was a glimmer of admiration in his stare, a silent acknowledgment that spoke volumes.

"Make a wish, lass," Soap chuckled, gesturing towards the candles on the cake.

Closing your eyes, you made a silent wish. A wish for Simon to be yours forever, for his safety, and for him to return to you unscathed from every mission.

With a deep breath, you blew out the candles, the room erupting into cheers and the chorus of "Happy Birthday."

As you opened your eyes, you felt a rush of warmth and gratitude wash over you. It truly was the best day of your life after your father's death.

Captain Price stepped forward, presenting you with a small box. You opened it eagerly to reveal a beautiful, delicate metallic quartz watch nestled inside.

"Thank you! It's so precious," you exclaimed, touched by the thoughtful gift.

As you all enjoyed the cake and then indulged in dinner, Captain Price suddenly cleared his throat, directing his attention to Ghost. "Simon, why are you wearing your uniform?" His question caught Ghost off guard, but before he could respond, you jumped in to explain.

"Actually, I asked him to wear that for my birthday. I was curious to see him in uniform," you said, offering Ghost a reassuring smile. His eyes crinkled from behind the balaclava he was wearing, a silent acknowledgment of his amusement.

"Alright, gentlemen, want something to drink? Please, help yourselves," you announced, rising from your seat and making your way to the bar. You took out the glasses, giving them a moment to process the exchange.

Soap and Ghost then took the dishes to the kitchen while the rest of you settled in the garden, enjoying the pleasant evening. Soap, with his characteristic sense of humor, regaled you all with his silly jokes, eliciting laughter from all of you.

"Hey LT, what has five toes and is not your foot?" Soap said.

"What?" Ghost asked.

"My foot!." Soap said and burst out laughing.

You couldn't control your laughter too. Soap was so funny.

"Your turn LT". Soap pointed towards Ghost.

"What do we call the fish who wears a bow tie?" Ghost asked.

You looked at each other's faces.

"Sofishticated." Ghost said.

Nobody laughed.

"What? Wasn't it funny?" Ghost said.

He was met with silence.

As the night grew late, you found myself sitting beside Ghost. His hand resting on the small of your back while everybody was busy talking.

He turned to look at you. Your blue eyes met with his caramel ones.

You stood up and went to stand at the door, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you.

"Aye! Come join us," Ghost called out, noticing your presence.

"No, you enjoy yourself. I'm going to bed now," you replied, turning around to head upstairs.

But before you could take another step, Ghost approached you and grabbed your wrist. "Hi, Lieutenant," you teased, your voice soft and playful.

You placed your hands on his chest, tilting your chin up to look at him. "Hell, if you put a bullet through my heart, I will spare you my life," you retorted, a smile playing on your lips.

You took the whiskey glass from his hand and placed your lips at the same spot he drank from and chug it at once.

You turned to go upstairs, but Ghost surprised you by grabbing you around the waist, causing you to squeak in surprise.

"Is everything alright there?" Captain Price's voice rang out from the garden.

"Yes, everything is fine, Price," Ghost replied calmly, his gaze locked on yours.

With a swift motion, Ghost lifted you into his arms and carried you upstairs, his strength both surprising and comforting.

"Your room or mine?" he asked with a playful smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Pic credit:

IG: Vehenan Virabelasan

[essayofthoughts]

A note to add - I’ve not seen C2 or C3 and cannot speak to them, but there is some canon homophobia in C1. Tary’s dad is shitty to him regarding Lawrence and in general Tary’s attraction to men, and is generally a pretty awful individual, and there seems to be more normalisation of straight romance than queer, based on what Tary says:

TARY: Well, I'm a dashing adventurer, and I'm supposed to attract all of the lasses of the kingdom, right? ALL: Well. TARY: They throw themselves at me because of my derring-do and bravery and my hair. KEYLETH: Have you experienced that once? TARY: No, but I feel that-- in all the books I've read, they never tell of the adventurers who go to bed with older men. PERCY: Do you know why? Because those adventurers are busy actually having a good time. -- Episode 96, Jugs & Rods.

However, I think this does still stand in line with what else you’ve said, OP? Exandria as a whole is pretty gender equal and doesn’t really have significant transphobia or homophobia - why would it? The world has magic and magic is the great equaliser. It’s why you can see past adventurers, of various backgrounds, climbing to high status - magic enables much more drastic shifts in fortune and influence than we get in our world. But it also suggests there’s more normalisation of straight relationships than queer, possibly because that general ease of mobility and, that there’s been less societal rejection of queer relationships and identity and so, in turn, less of a push to gain visibility.

It also suggests that any such bigotry is 1. Limited to personal examples (Howaardt Darrington), 2. Not enforced societally but not necessarily hugely or uniformly pushed back against (Queer relationships and identities allowed amongst people of various classes, but not much media around it), and 3. Something that is being pushed back against in-universe nonetheless (At least from what I understand, there’s a lot more queerness and queer rep as the campaigns go on).

Besides which, such bigotry is usually an attempt to control those around them - it makes sense for Howaardt Darrington, who seems to be a controlling, toxic man, to be so shitty about his son being gay. He places a lot of stake on his personal worth and pride and, for him, his son is an extension of that - and a let down to his personal standards. However, it would make less sense for, say, Syldor to be queerphobic because, even though he’s a shitty dad, he is also Extremely Elvish and Elven culture seems to enshrine queerness because their primary deity, Corellon the Archheart, is non-binary.

Of course, lots of people don’t know about Tary - he’s a late-appearing character in Campaign 1, both of which minimise people’s awareness of him, and he’s a man, and we’ve seen how the fandom seems to fixate more on F/F ships these days. But, I mean, if people do want a character dealing with homophobia in their stories... Tary is right there guys. Right there.

I’m I the only one who finds it alarming that most of this fandom who ship Imogen and Laudna (especially on twitter) don’t realize the unhealthyness thats going on in their relationship? They literally see two women to are affectionate with each other and say “ENDGAME!” “GIRLFRIENDS!” “MARRIED!” “KISS KISS KISS!” Then they focus on quotes that are kinda alarming, and Imogen’s Jealousy is pretty fucking Alarming! Saying that they are in love and just haven’t realized it yet. (Don’t get me started on that one blog on here counting down the days “till imodna realizes their in love.” I find it so fucking annoying.) Loving someone and being IN love with someone is two different things. Also another thing! I HATE THAT PEOPLE CALL THEM LESBIANS! THE BOTH HAVE EXPRESSED FEELINGS FOR MALE PERSENTING PEOPLE! I dread the day when the campaign ends and they don’t end up together or during the campaign fall IN love with someone that’s not each other. Especially if it’s a male persenting person, because the Laura and Marisha will be harassed and the shippers will yell Queerbait, also the men hating/haters will be in full force. 

Hi anon,

I agree with most of this; I'm answering under a cut in the hopes that people who will be upset by an answer will be able to avoid it, without me having to explicitly discourse tag it and in doing so throw it to people who troll that tag to get mad at things. Also this is SUPER long and covers a lot of the thoughts I've had percolating on the CR fandom/shipping culture in general.

I think I and a lot of people who primarily deal in meta/analysis in this fandom have been inching ever closer to a lot of the points you've made here, and I am generally very willing to be the one who snaps and says "yeah has anyone noticed the emperor has literally no clothes on like what the fuck".

Let's start with the end and work backwards: It's happened before, it will happen again if Laura and Marisha's characters do not get together, and it's irritating, but like, I will take a good story and the consequences of a shitty segment of the fandom rather than the path of least resistance every time. I almost said something to this effect on the positive vibes ask last night, but like...there will always be people who are hateful and stupid on the internet, so you may as well stand in your own truth rather than fear their consequences. (Not that I don't respect the choice to quietly avoid harassment; I am the way I am because I know at this point I can take a pretty hard hit and shut it down, but that has not always been the case.) Anyway, people called an actual canon ship between lesbian characters queerbaiting last campaign, so it's not like those accusations hold any weight or need to be taken seriously; outside of their tiny circle, everyone thinks those people are idiots.

I do, as a bi woman, hate the tendency among hardcore shippers to erase bisexuality. They do it because a bi character's competing ships cannot be as easily dismissed as 'obviously can't happen, they're gay or lesbian', and they don't care how biphobic they look doing it. You are absolutely correct: Imogen and Laudna have both indicated interest in men or masc nb people. (Others have also pointed out that people tend to exclusively use he/him pronouns about Ashton when they are being critical of them, so they don't care how transphobic they look doing it either, apparently; also I don't think Ashton identifies as a he/they lesbian but there are in fact people who do identify as such so like...if your goal is to eliminate Ashton/Laudna as an option by saying Laudna is a lesbian, against all evidence to the contrary, you also need to make a number of presumptions about Ashton's sexuality and gender identity as well.)

This brings me to a tricky section about fandom in general but I think it's worth saying. In the real world, homophobia and transphobia are very real. They negatively impact our lives in heartbreaking and deadly ways. It is still the norm in most US media for the bulk of relationships shown to be between a cis man and a cis woman, and for protagonists to be cis and straight (note: also often able-bodied, male, white, etc but the focus of this discussion is queerness so I'm not covering all axes of oppression). However, in many fandom spaces, queer characters and ships are the fan favorites. Tumblr's userbase does skew heavily queer, and additionally, tends to skew towards women. In other words, a lot of things that are very true in real life do not hold in fandom spaces.

Which is to say: we're in a situation where an F/F ship is the massive juggernaut for the fandom right now. It does not mean that lesbians (or bi women who enter into relationships with other women) are not oppressed in the real world; it does mean that within the highly specific space of the Critical Role fandom, people are more likely to be in favor of this ship than not. It also means that a lot of the people who aren't into it are not homophobes, but are queer people - often even wlw - who are saying "I would like F/F ships! I would like them to actually be good." Like, to me, the only difference between Imogen and Laudna and every M/F canon relationship on network TV that's made me go "you're telling me they should be together, but I don't see it" is that they're both women (and I would bet a large sum that for a lot of people, this isn't about the dynamic, but purely about the gender of the people involved, ie, if Imogen were a man played by one of the men in the cast people wouldn't ship it, where as I personally can comfortably say I'd ship any of the canon ships from past campaigns regardless of character gender. This also admits that biological essentialism is fake and that Exandria is pretty gender equalthough, which some people don't want to do.)

Part of why I've been so frustrated is that, at least from my perspective, the overwhelming majority of hate and harassment I've seen within the fandom in Campaign 3 - and in Campaign 2 - has been from people who have shipped Marisha and Laura's characters. There has, in fact, been pretty considerable hate as well as measured criticism levied towards M/F ships (we're seeing some with Ashton/Laudna here, but both Fjord/Jester and Caleb/Jester, the latter of which I actively dislike and have openly criticized, received pretty vehement hate last campaign and most of it came from people who shipped Jester with Beau) and M/M ships (less harassment per se but people who shipped Caleb with Jester said some truly awful things about Caleb/Essek; also while I have not, you know, harassed people, I have said essentially the same things about how Taliesin and Liam's characters are shipped every campaign despite often having little connection as I have about Marisha and Laura's. I just don't talk about it as much because while I think and have said that Ashton/Orym is basically nothing - and that Widomauk, which most people vaguely classify as M/M, and for that matter, Percy/Vax, all are basically nothing - no one who ships those has called me a cunt or reblogged my posts in an abusive manner or called me out for the grave sin of preferring canon to fanon, so I respect the ship and let ship of it all.) For that matter, the bulk of hate towards Beauyasha came from people who shipped Beau and Jester. Like...I am confident there are people who dislike this ship specifically because it's between two women, and they are homophobic, but that is not the quarter where I think most of the criticism on Tumblr or Twitter is coming from.

So let's get to the last point. Why do people ship two women simply because they're standing next to each other? Why do they ignore countless red flags - and I am specifically talking about treating Imogen and Laudna's relationship as healthy and loving; not about shipping it in general. I cannot stress enough that if you treat Imogen/Laudna as some kind of toxic Briarwoods situation and are into that, I support that entirely.

There are a few reasons. First and foremost, I think a lot of people project onto characters rather than letting the characters provide them with differing perspectives. I find this deeply sad. It's not that you can't draw parallels between your own life and that of fictional characters or see yourself in them - you're supposed to! But it says something depressing about your empathy if your qualifications for which characters speak to you are only those who match your demographics. Like, I've said before, but my favorite characters from past campaigns are Vex and Fjord, and they have a lot in common! If you relate to one based on their themes of Who You Are In The Dark and the mask you present to the world over a face you don't particularly like, you will probably relate to the other! But also...I am a cis bi woman, I am not a person of color as both those characters are often considered coded to be (though am an ethnic minority), nor did I personally experience extensive emotional abuse and poverty as a child. I think there's value in wanting to see people like you! But also...representation is not just "I want to see people like me"; it's also "I want to humanize people who are not like me". If you cannot relate to someone simply because they don't match your gender or sexuality, then that's a really shallow and cold way to interact with the world. And, specifically in relation to queerness within Critical Role: this is a world that has consistently been depicted as not having homophobia or transphobia. I understand wanting to explore these themes and seeing characters who have experienced them, but like...this is not the media that will reasonably have a one-to-one portrayal of homophobia or transphobia, and you often will need to bend over backwards and project a lot of stuff that simply isn't in the canon to read that into them because the worldbuilding simply doesn't support it. And, to be clear, you can do that; but at that point you're applying a lens that only you can obtain, so you shouldn't be surprised if few people come along with you. (I also think it's kind of dumb to watch a show with 5 cis men on it, four of whom are married to women, and be mad that the story has men in it and that those men sometimes are attracted to women; unpacking this would easily double the length of this already incredibly long post though.)

So: this sets a stage for people coming into the show saying "who looks like me, or can I make to look like me" rather than engaging with what's actually going on. Part of why I've been hesitant on Imogen and Laudna the whole time, though started out much more open to it, is in fact that it was heavily shipped from quite literally the moment that Laura and Marisha were indicated to be playing two women who knew each other from before. We knew nothing about their dynamic other than "existing friendship". So I think a lot of people put the cart before the horse and started shipping, and I do think - and I could be entirely wrong - a lot of them, deep down in their hearts, know that they are twisting their interpretations to match an idea of these two characters that has increasingly been proven not to be true onscreen. Like, I think a lot of people kind of realize that Imogen is putting Laudna in a horrible position here; I think a lot of people realize that their so-called 'unconditional' love that transcends words means there's no room to resolve or even express conflict. Perhaps they don't, but like, I'd like to give people the benefit of the doubt. It's just...I think that because this ship is so all-consuming within the fandom, and because so many people have staked their identities within the fandom on it, they don't know how to leave it and are scared of retaliation if they do.

This is backed up by the slow shift I've described - Imodna started out with "they're already girlfriends" or "they're already in love but just haven't said it" or "what could ever happen other than they become ever closer and eventually kiss" (as witnessed by these questions) to "they realized they were in love during the campaign" to "Imogen is in love with Laudna but Laudna isn't aware" to "god remember how they used to talk, I'd give anything for it" to "I guess a QPR is okay" (which is itself bizarre, like, the issues I see in their relationship are still just as much issues in a nonsexual partnership as a sexual one; honestly, it's not a healthy friendship though it is an interesting one and the problem's I have are not going to be fixed by kissing.) Like, it's not the normal evolution of feelings one might have about a ship as the show goes on and more information is revealed, or rather, it's a ship that's becoming less and less confident as time goes on which is the opposite of how canon ships tend to go. (Which, I need to stress, does not discount that it could not be canon; it's just that I think it would require a pretty profound shakeup and conflict to do so). The signs and signals are becoming more and more tenuous and the shippers keep lowering and lowering the bar.

Since I've already brought up past campaigns and ships, let's do it again for the sake of illustration; this feels like how people who shipped Caleb and Jester went from ENDGAME to "Caleb is pushing away Jester to protect her" to "I think Laura is biting her lip when she's looking at Liam! This is a SIGN" even in episodes where Jester was like, actively making out with Fjord, to, and I am not making this up, posting pictures of the CR shop showing Laura in Caleb merch as evidence. Or how the bulk of Vex/Keyleth shipping in TLOVM rested on a scene in the trailer where Keyleth was staring dreamily and drunkenly into space while Vex was across the table only for the show to reveal Keyleth was staring at Vax. Like, all shipping does require a certain degree of cherrypicking, but there is a point where you are focused only on subtext and never text, and while that was how one had to interact with queer stories in the past, it's ridiculous to be doing it on a show where Marisha has openly RP-ed Beau eating Yasha out. Like, if they wanted to show two women being romantically involved, they will. (There's been a lot of Xena comparisons thrown around, and like...not that Xena isn't an important part of the history of depicting F/F relationships in media, but it is also a syndicated show from the 90s and couldn't show an explicitly lesbian relationship, and Critical Role very much can and has.)

I do think there are a subset of people who don't realize how unhealthy this is. Like...this is a whole psychological thing that I am unequipped to unpack, but I do think there are people for whatever reasons genuinely do believe that love means never having to say you're sorry. I am hoping this is because of youth and inexperience, because being able to communicate and advocate for yourself is a crucial part of relationships, as is the ability to express and resolve conflict. As you've noticed, the people who ship this have all said "well, obviously, Imogen won't betray Laudna" - but we don't know that. Honestly I think it could go either way. But they have to make that assumption to keep shipping it, because if Imogen might betray Laudna, then that does mean that there would have been more meaning and value in Laudna speaking up and that conversation was deeply flawed.

I also think some of this comes from unconditional love being an unreasonable expectation foisted upon us all at large. There are always conditions, or rather, you might always in some way love someone, but there are conditions under which you'd leave or boundaries you will draw. You can love someone who (for example) is dealing with an addiction but still refuse to let them drive while intoxicated or steal your stuff to pay for drugs. You can love someone who cheats on you but still want to end that relationship. I mean, while fear, self-doubt, and resources/logistics are all factors in people leaving abusive relationships, it's also true that a lot of people have some affection for the good times and that is a factor as well. Love is not a simple on/off switch. You can feel multiple things at once - honestly, that's what Ashton basically says this past episode, that they both love and hate the party! I think Imogen and Laudna do genuinely love each other, though I don't interpret it as romantic; I just also think that there's a lot of stuff they don't like about each other but are unable to express, and which will only become more and more of a threat to a potential romantic (or queerplatonic) relationship if left to fester unresolve. And, to be honest, I suspect real-world homophobia and fandom purity issues are part of why people are so unwilling to discuss why Imogen and Laudna's relationship is unhealthy; because it means admitting that queer relationships can have most of the same problems as straight ones, and possibly admitting that you still find an unhealthy relationship interesting and want to see it played out.

[v5ttelfilms]

sweet dream was over ☽ mick schumacher

gossf1poutlet news of mick schumacher and y/n leclerc previously being in a relationship trends as the number one topic across social media, following an unfortunate leak from their private accounts. both the schumacher and leclerc's have expressed their opinion on this matter, via a strongly worded 'love letter' from legal counsels that represented their respective families. on a statement that was recently released, both parties have similarly urged everyone to refrain from making unnecessary assumptions and encouraged the public to rally against the spread of misinformation and baseless accounts of the pair's alleged relationship. their representatives also promises to pursue legal actions against the culprit.

username the whiplash i got from seeing this all over my tl still makes my muscles spasm😩

username extremely amazed at how they managed to keep it a secret for so long

username yes!!! no one expected little leclerc to REALLY pick one off of her dizzying number of suitors /gen

username thanks for adding the geniune tag op

username anytime🫡 we ride at dawn for little leclerc in this house

username please present your simp card at the checkout

username sure, do you accept the laminated one or does it have to be the government mandated one?

username so... timeline recaping anyone? 🤔

username they probably got together during 2019 or 2020

username seems that way, funny if you account the arthur and mick prema timeline aswell

username got together late 2019 or early 2020 and probably broke up late 2021 or early 2022, but that's only my intelligent guess 🤷‍♀️

username around the same time mick was having haas problems too? fcking brutal

username did the article say to not make unnecessary assumptions or did it not??!🙄

username this news has devastated me more than my own breakup... and that mothertrucker cheated on me with my bff. brb hurling and crying into the void.

username they were so perfect 🥺

username forever enchanted, my treasure. FOREVER enchanted MY treasure. FOREVER ENCHANTED MY TREASURE!!

username are u okay, do u need intervention?

username send all the help you could give my way tysm🥰

username rocking back and forth while hugging my knees to my chest type of thing

username pretending they never broke up for my sanity

username probably the reason she never had the guts to attend a grand prix

username she was getting educated and winning pageants, but yeah?

username these dts fans

username 💀💀

username tell me who was the champion year by year?

username where'd you get that from, netflix?

username so mick HAS game, but i never thought i'd learn it this way😞

username throwing up and shaking trembling and hurling and screaming crying

username love is NOT real

username it's literally the way mick coined the jewel/gem nickname for y/n before the rest of the world started calling her monégasque's pearl 🥺😭

username he has bragging rights forever

username he subconsciously knew it!!!

username never letting any man call me homie from now on

username girl—

2021, Switzerland

"y/n? what are you doing down here?" corinna asks you, mildly taken aback to see you down at the kitchen just around midnight.

you look up from blankly staring at the keys of your laptop, evidently surprised to see the older woman standing just a few steps away from you. you didn't hear her footsteps or anything.

"just..." you trail off, grappling for an appropriate response as to why you were sitting in the dark, barely awake, in the middle of the night. "files," you lie, unconvincingly.

corinna hums, and you knew she was barely convinced by your pathetic excuse, but she had too much tact to call you out on your lie. she wasn't blind, or oblivious as the kids these days would say; though she was considerably older, she still understood the worries and anxieties of the young heart.

"it's very late, schatz." she chides gently, touching your shoulder. "you shouldn't be working this late, it's bad for you." her tone was heavily laden with a motherly lilt.

"stunts my growth," you utter softly, smiling at her. corinna chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheeks. "and you can't be miss universe if you're short."

"you trust me too much." you remark teasingly.

"you ought to take over the world, darling." corinna laughs softly. "now, are you up for some warm milk and some- what do you children call it? tea sharing?"

"close, you're well versed with today's lingo. should i tell uncle michael that he should be worried?"

"he should always be worried." she says seriously, which made you tip your head back to laugh. she smiles at you, fondness clear as a day. "that's how you keep them on their toes. never make them feel comfortable."

spending the break with mick and his family in their summer home in switzerland has been a tradition of sorts. and alongside your fairy tale like romance with the youngest of the schumacher's, you had also become incredibly close with the rest of his family.

corinna grabs two glasses and neatly places them on the counter, she opens the fridge to get the carton of milk and pours a generous amount to each glass. she swiftly pops it in the microwave, before turning and giving her sole attention to you.

"i'm happy to see you laugh again, schatz. suits you better."

"that's very accusatory. i have been laughing, and smiling all week." you insist, light heartedly.

"maybe so, but not as pretty and geniune as now." she replies, "is there anything wrong? is it mick?" her tone was heavy with concern, looking both distressed and dreading your confirmation. it could have been her son that was the cause of the shift in your demeanor.

you look down at your lap, feeling the tears prick at your eyes upon her overwhelming bout of concern she plainly wears on her face. it reminds you so much of your own mother, and of which, corinna has easily become a substitute for when maman wasn't around.

"it's nothing." you clear your throat, "he's wonderful. he always is." you tried to smile in fake cheer.

"that's good." she smiles softly, "i was just about to say, that he loves you. he tells me everyday, he tells his father; he tells everyone willing to listen how much he could not fathom how you ever came to be in his life," she narrates earnestly, emotion heavy on her voice, "and he'll spend every waking moment of it to do right by you. to make you proud."

you closed your eyes, trying to will the tears at bay. "he tells me everyday too," your voice shook with emotion, throat welling up with tears. "and i know he means it. i do. but he— he never stops feeling like he constantly has to prove something, or be someone, or win everything." you weren't able to stop the tears, even as your eyes were closed. you finally open your eyes to see corinna's teary ones aswell, "and i— if i am the cause of it, i don't... i no longer feel worthy of his love."

you physically, felt all weight of pretense leave your body; finally being able to put to words the emotions, and complex thoughts you've bottled up, in fear of speaking it into existence. your shoulders sank, your defenses crumbling, as you broke down into inconsolable tears, weeping at your hands.

you felt arms wrap around you, weading through the shame and guilt you felt at your admission. you'd expected corinna's blame, but you never counted on her consolation. she held you. sympathetic and kind, and gracious; and understanding.

"it will be okay, schatzi." she says in the strands of your hair, "it will be. i promise you."

[sunafc]

accidentally in love - 17, single

taglist: @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @gigiiiiislife @phoenix-eclipses @needtoloveoutloud @azharyy @dearneverland @sleepystrwbrryy @oliwiasworlds @iluv-ace @rrosiitas @staygoldsquatchling02 @p4ndawrites @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @loveliepa @nnnyxie @iluvaquaphor @juliluvhz @kodzuken-hoe @luvvmae @sunset-venuz

if u want to be added to the taglist just let me know in the comments ! !

Right now you are going to the college library, Oikawa offered to help you study for your linguistics exam. He’s right beside you and your fingers brush against each other’s as you walk. This is nice, you think. Over the past few weeks you and Oikawa had spent a lot of time together. It felt natural to be part of each other’s lives. You wanted to introduce him to your friends, as you had just met his own.

Oikawa tugs at your hand, ‘Are you listening to me?’

‘Sorry,’ you look down at your hands, interlaced together, ‘What did you say?’

He smiles softly at you, ‘Do you want to grab dinner together, later?’

Oikawa doesn’t let go of your hand and you come to realize you enjoy that. His skin is really soft. He tugs at you again, noticing you’re getting lost in your thoughts once more.

‘Sure,’ you nod smiling back at him.

He holds the door to the library open for you and then follows you in. You spend a few minutes looking for the books you need before finding a free table.

You chose to study in the library because you knew if you studied at home you would get somehow distracted, though it seems the library isn’t really helping you. You’re finding it very difficult to concentrate when Oikawa is sitting next to you and his thigh presses against yours under the table. You keep reading the same sentence over and over again but the words have no meaning. You can’t stop thinking about how the last couple weeks have felt like dating, rumors even started going around campus about you two. But you don’t need a boyfriend, that’s what you settled on. You let out a deep sigh and read that sentence once more.

Once you’re done reading the chapter Oikawa lends you some flash cards, ‘I made these when I took this exam, I thought maybe they could help you.’

‘Thanks,’ you smile.

He pats your head ‘You seem a little out of it,’ his fingers run through your hair, ‘Are you alright?’

You open your mouth to reply, already thinking of the usual answer Just tired, but you stop when you notice two girls making their way towards your table. Oikawa’s hand in your hair drops to your thigh as he turns to them.

‘Hey,’ one of the girls says, fidgeting with her hands. Oh, you already have a feeling of what is about to happen and the air around you starts feeling really cold.

‘Are you single, Oikawa?’ She finally asks.

He nervously looks at you and you’re not sure how to read his face. He looks back at the girl. Your stomach is in a knot, he is single, you two are not dating. She’s really pretty, too. You don’t want to be there when he answers her, you quickly gather your things under the confused gaze of Oikawa.

His grip on your thigh tightens ‘Y/n?’

You move his hand, ‘Sorry I–’ you get up, ‘I need to go,’ you walk towards the exit without even thinking about making up some excuse. Your heart is racing, your hands are tingling, it’s hard to swallow and you’re feeling anxious, worried, sad... is this jealousy? This is all my fault, you want to be mad at Oikawa but this was really all your doing. You did exactly what you told him not to do so, really, you can only be mad at yourself. You shake your head as your vision starts to get blurry because of the tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

notes:

well well well, if these aren't the consequences of y/n's own actions... ops

anyways!

things will get better next chapter.. maybe😋

for the people who asked to be added to the taglist but don't see their names: tumblr won't let me tag u for some reason so i'm sorry abt that 🙁

previous - masterlist - next

[gigabyte-flare]

There's No Escape (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: You find out the hard way what happens when Leon doesn't get what he wants, after all, actions have consequences, don't they?

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 4.8k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic 

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings may be added in the future

THIS PART CONTAINS EXPLICIT VIOLENCE AND GORE, READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @hxllfiredoll, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: Ok first off, I did not intend to make this part this long, but I was on a roll and the words just kept coming out (plus I wanted to get to the good stuff, you guys have waited long enough). Thank you again for all the support and love on this extremely self indulgent piece. I tried to proof read this one as best as I could without going cross eyed, so again, please excuse any grammatical errors. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You both sat in the living room of your apartment in silence. It was some ungodly hour in the morning, you didn’t bother to check. Neither of you could sleep. You both ensured that the front door was dead-bolted and all the windows were locked before settling into the living room. You couldn’t help but feel guilt wash over you as you silently cried. It was never your intention to drag Becky into this mess. You figured Leon would just move on. Clearly you were mistaken.

“Listen, Becky, I’m really sorry,” you say, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Sorry for what?”

“I put you in danger by moving in with you. If I knew Leon would be pulling this crap, I wouldn’t have come here.”

Becky let out a loud sigh, “we’re best friends. You would have done the same for me.”

You nod silently, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them.

“What I can’t wrap my head around is how he figured out where you worked so fast. Clearly that ‘prank call’ the other day was him. What did you say he did for a living again?”

You swallow hard before answering, “he works for the gov--”

Your eyes widen. The word “government” flashes in your mind like a curse. How could you have been so stupid? It’s a wonder he hadn’t tracked you down sooner.

“He works for the what now?”

“The government.”

You both stare at each other, the silence deafening. 

“And… what exactly does he do for the government?”

“He’s some kind of special ops agent. Military training and all that…”

You watch Becky rub her face into her hands, exhaling loudly.

“Becky, I’m sorry…”

“It’s a miracle you’re not dead,” Becky’s muffled voice responds from under her hands before dropping them, “what the hell did you see in him anyway?”

“He was wonderful at first,” you reply, pulling out your phone and opening the photo gallery.

You scroll back to six months ago, when you and Leon first started dating. There were a million pictures of him and the two of you together. He wasn’t exactly smiling in the pictures, but you could tell he loved you. But, then, you notice subtle details in the photos; the way he was gripping your waist too tightly in one photo, his cold eyes in the next. There was one photo that stood out to you, he had you in a vice grip with one arm with his nose buried in your hair while you laughed. It was a candid photo but you couldn’t help but be unsettled by it now, given your current circumstances. This man was a walking red flag and you totally missed it. 

“Maybe I should move,” you suddenly say.

“Absolutely not!” Becky exclaims, “we’re in this together! It’s way too dangerous for you to be out there on your own!”

“What am I supposed to do?! It’s not like I can go to the police and be like ‘Hi yes? I have a trained government agent that’s stalking me’ now, can I? They’ll never believe me!”

Becky shook her head, “I don’t know what we’re going to do but we’ll figure out something. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Becky.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was a bright, sunny day in Boston. You were coming out of the Dunkin’ Donuts right down the street from your apartment with a tray with two iced coffees as you made your way down the sidewalk. Your cellphone began to ring, you pulled it out to answer it.

Caller ID Unknown

You roll your eyes and reject the call. Before you even had a chance to put it back in your pocket, it began ringing again. The ID still said Caller ID Unknown. Again, you reject the call, but again, it immediately starts ringing. Annoyed now, you answer it. You hear a voice before you even have a chance to speak.

“Is one of those iced coffees for me? You shouldn’t have, princess.”

“Leon?!” You stop dead in your tracks and look around to see if you see him anywhere, but you don’t. 

You hear him lick his lips, “Did you wear that sundress on purpose? You know that’s my favorite one, baby.”

“You fucking pig, leave me alone!”

“Now, now… what have I told you about swearing at Daddy? What a bad girl you are.”

Your heart is pounding out of your chest as you continue to whip your head around to see if you can see him, but you don’t, which makes you panic even more. 

“Where the fuck are you Leon?! Stop hiding!”

You hear him laugh on the other end. Pissed off now, you hang up on him and run down the street, being mindful of the iced coffees in the tray. You had to get back to the apartment. You didn’t care what Becky said, you were moving out. You had no clue where you would go, but you knew you had to get as far away from here as possible. You’d drive to the ends of the earth if you had to.

You get to your apartment and rush up to the front door, digging your keys out from your pocket while precariously balancing the iced coffee tray in your other hand. You finally get a hold of your keys and start opening the front door.

“Becky, listen, we need to talk--”

You stop mid sentence as the door swings completely open, letting out an eerie squeak. You let out a loud gasp, dropping the tray and the iced coffees as you bring both hands to cover your mouth in shock. 

There is blood everywhere.

Your eyes darted from the kitchen cabinets, to the island, to the fridge; everything had blood splattered all over it. Your eyes eventually settle on something laying on the floor. It was Becky, her eyes open wide and her mouth open in a silent scream as blood seeped from the large gash going across her neck.

You’re frozen in place, you can’t take your eyes off Becky’s lifeless form. You weren’t even gone for an hour; you were just talking to her this morning when she mentioned she was dying for an iced coffee. She had a school project to work on so she wasn’t able to go with you to go get Dunks like you normally would. 

Hesitantly, you walk through the door and approach Becky’s body, a small part of you hoping she was somehow still alive. Your whole body trembles as you stand before her. Suddenly, you hear the front door squeak and slam shut, causing you to jump and turn around.

You see Leon, his hand holding the front door shut as he flips his beloved combat knife in his other hand. He lets out a low chuckle as he walks up to you, bringing the blood soaked knife to his lips, licking the blade clean before sheathing it.

“Baby, I didn’t want to have to kill Becky, but she left me no choice. You understand, right?”

“Fuck you!” your voice is like venom as you run over to one of the cabinets, whipping it open.

You start grabbing glasses and throwing them at him, which he effortlessly deflects with his hand as he continues to stalk towards you. You bolt from the kitchen and attempt to get into the living room, however you slip on Becky’s blood, falling to the floor, smacking your face hard against the hardwood floor. 

Now dazed, you attempt to get back up but feel Leon grab you from behind by your underarms, standing you up and holding you against his body.

“You naughty girl,” Leon growled, kissing the back of your right earlobe, “Daddy’s going to have to teach you some manners.”

You desperately struggle in his grasp, however his grip on you is relentless. Looking out the window as you struggle, you realize the window has a clear view of the Dunks that you had just come from.

He was inside the apartment when he called.

“You fucking monster!” you scream, slamming your foot down on one of his boots; he doesn’t flinch.

“Oh princess… it seems you already forgot the rules, haven’t you? That’s fine. I have other ways of keeping you under control.”

You hear him grab something from his pocket and before you can react, you feel a sharp pain in the right side of your neck, making you flinch.

“What the hell was that?!” you cry out, feeling a strange sensation start to overtake your entire body.

“Shhhhhh it’s ok, it’s just to help you relax. Daddy’s got you, you’re safe with me sweetheart,” Leon purrs, kissing the back of your head as his hand runs through your hair.

Your movements quickly became sluggish, subconsciously grateful Leon was holding you up, otherwise you would have collapsed onto the floor. Your eyelids were getting heavy and before you knew it, the embrace of darkness took you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was well into the evening before Leon finished cleaning the mess left behind from Becky. One of the first things he did was wrap her body in a blanket and weigh it down with a chain and cinder block before dumping her into the bay. Thanks to his connections in the government, Becky would soon be erased from existence. You were safe in his Wrangler, sleeping soundly. Even if you somehow woke up from the tranquilizer, you wouldn’t be able to open the doors from the inside.

He then began gathering some of your things. He grabbed some of your clothes, toiletries and some of your books and your gaming console. There might be times he has to go out on assignments, so you would need something to do while he’s gone; he hated the thought of leaving you though. Once he was confident he had everything he needed, he locked up the apartment, got into his Jeep and started the engine. He had a very long drive ahead of him.

His destination was a plot of land just above the Northernmost part of Baxter State Park in Maine. He had purchased property up there and built a large cabin shortly after he got back from Spain. While he told you he was out on an assignment a few weeks ago, he was actually up at the cabin getting things ready to move you in. His original plan was to get back to the apartment in D.C. and bring you up there to your new home, however your disappearing act had put a wrench in that plan. He was thankful he trusted his gut and put the GPS tracker in your Renegade. 

Thankfully, traffic was light, so he was able to get onto I-95 North relatively quickly. He glances over at you, sleeping peacefully. He could see your eyes moving underneath your eyelids.

“I wonder what you’re dreaming about, sweetie,” he says softly, using the back of his fingers to stroke your cheek before returning his attention back to the road, “I hope it’s me.”

He reaches up to the sun visor above him, grabbing a mix CD from the CD holder and putting it into the CD player. The song “Bullets” by Creed began to play. As the song picked up, he sang quietly to himself as his right hand moved from the stick shift to your thigh, rubbing it tenderly. 

As he drove, his mind drifted towards the future. He imagined you finally coming around, living happily together, maybe even getting married. He imagined at least a couple little Kennedys running around the cabin, playing tag or whatever it was kids do these days. He imagined you in the kitchen making dinner and him walking up behind you, placing his arms around your waist to rub your belly that would be pregnant with another little Kennedy; the picture perfect family. He could feel himself grow hard, but he would not stop to indulge himself; perhaps when you both finally got to the cabin. He hoped by then you’d be awake. 

He was looking forward to finally making his dream a reality.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Your eyes slowly flutter open and the first thing you feel is the skull crushing headache you have. You wince and try to sit up. You quickly realize you’re in bed. Was all that with Leon a dream? Was Becky alive still? You swing your legs around to get out of bed but you're jerked back by something cold around your neck. You blink, becoming hyper aware of your surroundings. You realize, too, that you were now in jeans and a t-shirt. This is not your bedroom at the apartment. You reach your hands to your neck and find you’re fitted with a metal collar that is attached to a chain, you look behind you; the chain is bolted into the wall.

“Oh what the fuck…” 

You try to pull on the chain, but the bolts don’t budge, that’s when you realize your hands and ankles are also bound together by chains. You start hyperventilating. 

What’s going on, why am I chained to the wall? Why am I chained in general? Where the fuck am I?

“You’re finally awake.”

Your head snaps up at the sound of Leon’s voice; you didn’t even hear him approach. He’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, only wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that barely clung to his hips. His blue eyes gaze at you longingly.

“You’ve been an awfully bad girl, so Daddy had to punish you.” he says, his eyebrows furrowing in anger.

“Where’s Becky?!”

“Becky? I don’t know anyone named Becky,” Leon says in a ‘as a matter of fact’ tone.

“You fucking liar! You fucking killed her!”

Leon charged over to you, slapping you across the face. You cry out, holding your hand up to your face as your cheek stung from the aftershock of the slap.

“What did I tell you about swearing at Daddy, you dumb bitch?!” 

You start sobbing uncontrollably, your body shaking, “I’m… I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what?”

“I’m sorry… Daddy…”

“That’s much better,” Leon cooed, stroking the top of your head, “such a good girl.”

You absolutely loathe calling him ‘Daddy,’ it made you sick to your stomach. Leon sat on the bed next to you, continuing to stroke the top of your head.

“Do we need to go over the rules again, babygirl?”

You gave him a nod.

“Use your words, sweetie.”

“Yes…” you swallow hard, “Daddy…”

“Alright,” he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, “you remember the most important one, don’t you?”

“Be respectful, no swearing or backtalk… I have to listen to what you tell me to do.”

“That’s right. And?”

“I address you as… Daddy… I think you said sir was ok too but you prefer…” you wince like you have a bad taste in your mouth, “Daddy.”

“Such a smart girl, what else?”

“I can’t leave the apartment… erm…” you glance around the room, “house… without your permission.”

Leon gives you a gentle smile as he strokes your cheek, “see? You remember the rules just fine. However, Daddy had to make a new rule now that we’re here, ok?”

You swallow hard, your anxiety skyrocketing.

“Remember, you need to answer when I’m talking to you.”

“Ok… Daddy…”

He grabs onto the collar and pulls you to him, “when you misbehave, you go into the timeout room until Daddy thinks you’re ready to come out.”

“Is this… is this the timeout room?”

“So perceptive! Yes, baby, this is the timeout room,” he replies before giving you a kiss on the lips.

You reciprocate the kiss as much as it kills you inside to do so. He releases the collar and stands up from the bed. He stops at the threshold of the room, looking back at you.

“You must be so hungry, sweetheart, do you want Daddy to make you something to eat?”

“Yes, please.”

Leon narrows his eyes again in a silent threat.

“Yes please, Daddy…”

Seemingly satisfied with your response, he turns and leaves the room, shutting the timeout room door behind him. You take a deep breath, taking in your surroundings. The room had no windows or clock, so you had no way of gauging what time it was. You look up into the corner and see a camera, you reckon that’s how he knew you were awake; it probably has a motion detector in it. You take stock of your current situation. One saving grace was you were at least fully clothed, but you imagined that wasn’t going to last long. You couldn’t help but regret leaving D.C. to begin with; yeah you were trapped in an apartment in D.C., but you at least weren’t chained to a goddamn wall and Becky was alive.

Becky… I’m so sorry… 

You hoped she at least put up a fight. Judging by the gruesome scene you stumbled upon, she had. However, you knew that Leon was practically unstoppable, you remember specifically his kicks were especially deadly. He told you stories about how he snapped people’s necks simply by roundhouse kicking them. However, from the looks of things he simply used his knife.

At one point, you thought that was so hot.

You bury your head into your hands and cry. You felt completely helpless and you hated it. You hated Leon with every fiber of your being.

“Oh sweetheart, please don’t cry,” you hear Leon say.

Again, you snap your head back up and find him in the doorway. He had a plate with a fork as well as a glass of water. As he approaches you, you see that he had made you waffles.

“I made you your favorite. Daddy loves you so much.”

“What time is it… D-Daddy?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“It’s just before 11, just in time for breakfast, sweetie,” he replies as he hands you the plate and fork.

“W-Where are we exactly…?”

He narrows his eyes for a moment, however, his expression quickly softens as he answers, “we’re home, that’s all you need to know, babygirl,” he brings his lips to your temple, giving you a soft kiss.

You fiddle with the fork in your right hand for a second, contemplating if you should try to stab it into his neck. Unfortunately the damn thing is made of that biodegradable shit, you foresee that ending badly. On top of that, it was one of those safety forks that you couldn’t break and turn into a sharp object, like the ones they give to inmates in prison. 

That’s what this place is, not home, but a fucking prison. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It’s late; the only thing lighting the living room is the soft glow of the TV as Leon mindlessly surfs through channels in his recliner. The picture was a tad fuzzy since satellite television was the only thing Leon could get working out here, but he didn’t mind. He suddenly came upon an old sitcom, the scene playing out a wife doing the dishes and her husband coming home from work, kissing her on the cheek before taking off his coat. The man’s two children run in, hugging his legs.

Leon felt his heart sink at the sight. There were three things in life that he always wanted: to protect people, to find a nice girl to settle down with and to start a beautiful family. He didn’t really have a family growing up, his biological family was killed having been involved heavily in crime. He was adopted by a police officer, which inspired Leon to become a police officer himself. However, his dream was shattered the night he drove into Raccoon City on his first day being on the force.

To make matters worse, he was immediately taken in by the U.S. Government and interrogated about what happened that night and then ‘asked’ to join a top secret agency, mostly dealing with incidents involving B.O.W.s. His trip to Spain was no different, having been sent there to rescue the president’s daughter. Things were different that time, however, as he was able to get her safely back home after removing the Las Plagas parasite even though he had gotten infected himself in the process. He almost didn’t make it back, but by some miracle, the president’s daughter was able to remove the parasite from him before it completely consumed him. 

When he returned from Spain, even though the mission was an overwhelming success, he still felt empty. He had no one to come home to; no wife to kiss him on the cheek and ask him how his day was. No kids to run up to him to give him a hug, to tell him how much they missed their Daddy. 

He got up from the recliner abruptly and turned off the TV. He walks up to the timeout room door and slowly opens it. You were sleeping, you looked so peaceful in the low light from the nightlight in the room. He stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him before approaching the bed. He sat down next to your sleeping form, watching you for a few minutes. A smile forming on his lips, he runs his hand up your leg gently, causing you to stir in your sleep.

“L-Leon…?” you wake with a yawn, “is it morning? What time is it?”

Leon grew slightly irritated at the fact you didn’t address him correctly, but he let it slide for now.

“Daddy has decided he’s going to let you come out of timeout,” he said softly, “but only if you do something for me.”

You rub your eyes before propping yourself up on one elbow to face him, your eyes still dazed from sleep.

“What do you want me to do…?” you ask, your eyelids still heavy.

He leans over you, putting his lips up to your ear and whispering, “let Daddy fuck a baby into you.”

He hears your breath begin to tremble.

“Please, sweetie, please give Daddy a baby,” Leon continues, practically moaning in your ear.

You shake your head as tears form in your eyes; you sit up and press yourself against the headboard, and you look down at the tent in his sweatpants. Looking down at himself, his right hand goes into his sweatpants, pulling out his throbbing cock, giving himself a couple strokes, precum now dripping from the tip.

“Sweetie look, you’re making him cry. All he wants is to be inside you and give you a baby.”

Again, you shake your head at him, tears dripping off your face. 

He frowns, bringing his free hand up to caress your cheek while the other continues to stroke his cock, “there is nothing to be afraid of, Daddy will take such good care of you when you’re pregnant, I promise.”

“Get away from me!” you whimper, pushing his hand away from your face.

Anger begins to boil within him, the frown quickly turning into a scowl. His free hand then grasps your throat, practically choking you. He watches as you struggle against his grasp, desperately trying to breathe but are not able to. 

“You’re going to have my baby whether you like it or not, so we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, sweetheart. The choice is yours and I can tell you right now, you will not like the hard way,” he growled, tightening his grip on your throat.

“I… I… I’m….” you try to speak, but his grip on you is too tight.

Leon sees this and loosens his grip on you.

“I-I’m sorry Daddy, I’m really sorry Daddy. I’ll give you a baby, please don’t hurt me…”

A sinister smile overtakes him. He removes his hand from your throat.

“That’s my good girl,” he says, standing up, “you’re gonna make Daddy so happy.”

Leon grabs your jeans, ripping them off your body, only leaving your thin lace panties. He then removes his sweatpants, now completely naked.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commands.

You quickly comply, propping yourself up on your hands and knees. He kneels onto the bed as he looms over you, pushing you forward into the bed so that your ass is in the air.

“I was going to treat you and eat your pussy out before I pound a baby into you, but since you insist on being a bad girl, we’re skipping the foreplay tonight.”

“I’m sorry D-Daddy!” you cry, your voice muffled into the bed, “I’m sorry for being a bad girl…”

Ignoring you, he can’t help but see the dark spot on your panties; he lets out a low chuckle.

“Look at how wet you already are! And here you are telling me that you don’t want this. Silly girl…”

His fingers grab your panties and rips them off you, tossing them aside. He gazes upon your glistening pussy, unconsciously licking his lips. Grabbing your hips, he buries his mouth into your leaking hole, lapping up your juices. He hears you let out a soft moan.

“Oh fuck… your pussy tastes so good, I know I said I wasn’t going to eat you out, but I couldn’t help myself when your pussy was begging for Daddy’s tongue.”

He sits back up, grasping his cock in one hand while he aligns it up to your entrance. Without warning, he begins vigorously thrusting into you. He grabs your ass with both hands, putting all his energy into every trust. At first, he could hear quiet whimpers come out of you, watching your fingers claw into the sheets. He readjusts himself so that he was kneeling on one knee, giving himself a better angle to pound into your cervix. Now you were letting out loud moans, pushing your hips back to meet his eager thrusts.

“Oh, what a good girl you are! Daddy’s perfect little angel.”

His hands run up the sides of your body, slipping beneath your shirt and grabbing hold of your breasts. You moan his name as he rolls your nipples between his fingers. 

Again with you not addressing him correctly…

He lets out a sigh, deciding it was fine, you get so drunk on his cock, so he decided a little lapse in the rules in the heat of passion was fine. Grabbing hold of your chest, he pulls you up so that your back is against him as he continues to pound into your hungry pussy. 

“My princess loves Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she? You can’t hide that from me no matter how hard you try,” he growls before pulling out of you and turning you around to face him.

He pushes you back down onto the bed, pushing your legs forward and draping them onto his shoulders. He sheathes himself back into you, leaning in to devour your lips.

“D-Daddy… I’m… I’m… I’m gonna…”

“Don’t cum yet, sweetie, wait and cum with Daddy, ok?”

You nod, letting out a whimper and leaning your head back onto the pillow, your eyes rolling into your head as he continues his assault on your pussy. He can feel that he’s close to his release; in preparation for this his thrusts become short but intoxicatingly deep, causing him to let out a low, animalistic growl.

His growl must have affected you because he felt you instantly cum on his cock, causing him to hit his own release, shooting hot ropes of cum into you as he pressed into you. He held himself there for several minutes until his cock stopped pulsating. He slowly pulled out and looked down at you, admiring his handiwork. He watched his cum start to leak out, using his fingers, he scooped it up and pushed it back into you. He didn’t want to waste a drop.

“Stay like that ok, sweetie? Daddy has to go get the keys to bring you out of timeout.”

Grabbing his sweatpants off the floor, he slips them back on before walking back out into the kitchen. The sun was just starting to come into the windows. He walks up to a safe that’s embedded into the wall; it's the kind with the turn style lock. He inputs the combination, grabbing a couple keys from it before shutting it. He goes back into the bedroom, smiling when he sees you haven’t moved.

What a good girl.

He walks up to the bed, unlocking your collar first before removing the chains from your wrists and ankles. He then picks you up effortlessly, bridal style, taking you out of the timeout room and into the master bedroom. He gently lays you down, giving you a kiss on the forehead. He then climbs into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, falling asleep within seconds.

Part 4

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Do think I’m your babygirl? I think the fuck not.

Pairing/au: Joel Miller x afab!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 4095

Rating: +18, NSFW, minors please don’t interact

Warnings/Tags: pov second person, smut with very little plot, angst, casual sex, no use of y/n, reader is described having breasts and vagina and wearing a dress and heels, no other description of her is given, reader’s thoughts in italics, mention of infidelity, swearing, pet names (babygirl, good boy, baby, princess), reader is bad at feelings (she has her reasons though), soft!Joel, brief mention of Sarah, a lot of kissing, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but still, do better irl, please!), reverse cowgirl, balls grabbing, a little of bit of scolding during sex 😈, plot twist, neck kissing, nipples play, teasing… I think it’s all? If I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

A/N: First of all, if you happened to read something similar but badly written on AO3 don't worry, it's still me, no one stole anything from me and I didn't steal anything from anyone lol

I've been wanting to rewrite this for a long time and I think I'm pretty happy with how it came out this time. I really hope you like it too. As always, English is not my first language, I don't have beta and I finished writing it last night at 3am (ops, I did it again!), so please forgive me if you find any mistakes.

To anyone reading this, thank you for your time! I added a brief A/N at the end, see you there!

“Should we get out of here?” he whispers in your ear and you nod “where?”

“My house”

You give him a quick kiss on the lips agreeing “okay”.

You just met him but he’s the most handsome man to ever approach you in a bar so you don’t care.

You’ve already been the good girl, the one to introduce to someone’s parents, the one who’s always kind and modest, who never says a word too much and does everything in her power to make her man happy.

Turns out it didn’t do you any good.

You were engaged, a year ago.

You and Mark had the whole plan.

The wedding, a house with a white picket fence, a nice yard, a dog, a big family.

It was all decided, until you found out he was cheating on you with one of his coworkers.

All those “babygirl, I’m going to be late”, “babygirl, don’t wait for me for dinner, that asshole of my boss gave me a ton more paperwork to deal with”, “babygirl, tell John I’m sorry I couldn’t come to his party today but I still have a million things to do here at the office”, “I miss you, I wish I didn’t have to work so much” texts…all bullshit.

One day you came home early from a work trip and found him on the couch of the house you had rented and where you had lived together for two years with his dick stuck in his colleague’s pussy.

What a piece of shit.

You spent four years of your life with him and yet it felt like you had never really known him. You wondered how he had managed to lie so well, for so long, without even flinching.

You cried, you screamed as he made up some lame excuse to justify himself, you wondered how you had wasted all those years with someone like that. How come you hadn't noticed before how fake and manipulative he was? How come you hadn't noticed that every time you argued he tried to make you feel guilty even though he was the one who was completely in the wrong?

Oh yeah, you were in love. Blind, dazed, completely drunk with love.

Love that chews you up and spits you out.

What a huge scam.

Never again, you thought.

Mark could have gone to hell with his colleague, you were done.

You would no longer let feelings get the better of you.

Sure, men were still nice. When they were quiet and fucked you good and then went back home, no strings attached.

He says his name is Joel.

You put a finger over his mouth to silence him when he tries to add his last name. “I don’t need it,” you tell him.

“Whatever you say, beautiful,” he replies.

His voice is definitely a plus. Deep, husky, charming. It goes straight to your cunt.

Even his beard brushing your cheek as he speaks in your ear to make himself heard over the chaos of the bar isn’t bad at all.

A small talk later you decide he is the perfect one night stand.

He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a gray T-shirt with a plaid shirt over it.

His hand is wrapped around your waist in a delicious way, just above your hip. Big, expert hand. His brown eyes are staring at you, intense and piercing. Chocolate eyes, and you've always liked chocolate.

His plushy lips curve into a smirk when you say “let’s go cowboy, it’s time to show me what you got”

He chuckles, reaching down and squeezing your butt.

“After you, princess”

You roll your eyes at the pet name but he’s too gorgeous to back down.

He walks you to his pick up truck, in the parking lot.

He drives to a nice neighborhood, full of small houses with well-kept yards and safe streets where you imagine kids riding bikes and playing softball. The contrast between him and what’s around you makes you laugh. Joel doesn’t seem like a friendly neighbor, a candidate for trick-or-treating on Halloween, or the life of the block parties. He seems distant, a man of few words, a grouch. Which is perfect as far as you are concerned. You had stopped caring about men’s chatter.

When you were talking at the bar you noticed that his hands are calloused, rough, you were about to ask him what job he did but you decided you weren't interested.

Who cares, this guy will be out of my life after tonight.

You look at his profile in the truck, his expression when you put your hand on his thigh while he’s driving, his lips that twitch slightly, his Adam’s apple that jump in his throat, his hand that grips the steering wheel a little tighter. Really, truly, delicious.

You like him. His thick raven hair with just a few streaks of gray, his high forehead, his aquiline nose, his strong jaw. Your best friend sent you a tiktok a while ago about her favorite actor with a little song that said Girl dinner playing in the background. Watching Joel in the car you think of that. Except he isn’t just dinner but a six-course meal at a fancy restaurant.

By now your opinion of men is that they are all assholes and cheaters and the guys you met after Mark only supported that theory.

When you met someone cute your new philosophy was legs open, heart closed.

You wouldn't have opened your heart for Joel, but your legs yes, very willingly.

He parks in front of a cute little house, with a rose bush climbing up a trellis to one side and an impeccable lawn.

A small porch with a rocking chair and pots of geraniums complete the picture. “Jesus,” you think “This guy and his house have nothing to do with each other”

Joel has a worn-out, 90s rock star look in a flannel shirt and combat boots, a guy like him could have lived in a shitty loft with a mattress on the floor and wooden crates for nightstands.

“Here we are, princess” he says. He got out of the pick up and come to open the door for you.

“Quaint neighborhood,” you observe.

“See, I’m unmarried but I have a daughter” You stop him right away. “Nah, too much information.”

He has a daughter. You didn’t expect that either. And you don’t want to know, you don’t want to know a damn thing about him other than how good he fucks.

“Okay” he mutters, shrugging. He seems a little confused by all your restrictions but it is essential for you to keep your distance.

Knowing this already bothers you, you should have taken him to some motel instead of his house. He has a daughter, so he's a responsible family man? A guy who never does things like pick up a stranger in a bar? What if he hasn't gotten laid since Bush was president?

You don’t have time to waste on foreplay and cuddles, he’s not the “let’s talk first” type, is he? He doesn't seem like it but at this point you're not sure of anything anymore.

You enter his house and look around. It's a nice place, comfortable, simply furnished, there's too much brown around for your taste but it's okay.

You don't have a chance to process the photos hanging on the wall and scattered around on the tables and bookshelves before he pins you against the wall and kisses you.

It's a hungry, sloppy, passionate kiss, his lips moving over yours as if he wanted to devour you in one bite.

“Great job” you think, at least you were right about something, he is a man who doesn't waste time on ceremony.

His tongue slides warm into your mouth and it tastes like whiskey, his hands run over your body, caressing you.

First the neck, tightening slightly against your throat, then on your shoulders where he slides the straps of your dress. Then on your chest, to pull down the fabric just enough to uncover your bra. He cups one of your breast with his hand, squeezing it. He pulls down the bra and uncovers your already hard nipples. He leaves a trail of kisses and small bites on your jaw and all the way down the column of your neck, until he reaches your chest taking one of your buds into his mouth, you feel the warmth of his tongue and lips, licking greedily at it and then sucking it slowly, his beard tickling on your skin.

Fuck, this guy knows what he's doing.


You mentally apologize to him for doubting it, as you throw away your heels, kicking them to the floor.

You moan loudly as his heavy hand lifts the hem of your dress and covers your entire pussy. He presses hard on your clit and your body tenses like a violin string, you arch your back seeking more friction. He places his other hand on your hip, caging you between him and the wall. He continues to kiss you, while he dip in your slit through the now completely soggy fabric.

He grunts in your ear “so fucking great mmm pussy is dripping on my floor, isn’t she?” 
You don't even have the energy to cringe about him using pronouns for your cunt as he pulls your panties aside and dip two fingers into your slit, moving up towards your clit, rubbing it.

His eyes are settled in yours, you feel hypnotized by his gaze, so overwhelming and beautiful. It pierces you to the wall. 
His fingers stroke your clit in small circles, slowly and then faster, applying pressure every now and then. His smile widens as he watches you needily and hotly arch into his palm.

“Yeah, you like that, huh?”
You desperately clench around his thick fingers when he slides his index and middle into your hole. When he begins to slowly sink inside you you feel like you can’t hold his gaze anymore, it’s almost like he’s digging into your soul, your head crush into the crook of his neck and your arm tightens around his shoulders. 
Your brain is completely clouded with pleasure and its scent, wood and leather with a fresh clean undertone. He smells so good. It’s intoxicating.

Your dress is bunched up around your waist, just enough to allow his hands to feast on you.
His fingers keeps getting in and out of you reaching your most sensitive spot while his other hand goes back on your tit, playing with one of your nipples, twisting and gently pulling it between his fingers. 
You can no longer hold back your whines, they mix with his hoarse grunts, filling the air in the room.
“Fuck, it feels so good” you wail and he grumbles “yeah…such a nice cunt, fuck, so tight” 
He pumps even harder into you, scissoring a bit, hitting your g-spot again and again, his thumb on your clit and you feel your peak building up from your tummy and raising hot into your chest, you’re gasping for air as he bites in the tender skin of your neck and lowers his mouth back on your nipple. 
“mmm I would never stop sucking your tits, God, they are so - fuck” His voice dies in his throat as you clench hard around his fingers whining “don’t stop please don’t stop oh fuck sogoodsogoodsogoodsogood”, you sound almost like you’re on the verge of crying. 
He gently urges you “let go, gorgeous, give it to me, drench my fucking fingers” 
And you come, as much as you hate being told what to do he’s having the best of you. It’s basically the only moment in which you give yourself the chance to get lost, when your climax starts shuttering all over your body, wave after wave, washing away your control over yourself. 
He holds you down as your body shakes uncontrollably.

His mouth leaves small kisses on your sweaty skin, cradling you through your orgasm along with his hands that gently cup your ass, squeezing it. You moan against his neck, clinging to his flannel shirt.

His fingers slide out of you and he brings them to your mouth, he runs them over your lower lip, wetting it with your pleasure and then gliding them over your tongue to his knuckles, you lick them greedily under his satisfied gaze.

You stay hugged against the wall for a while, not saying anything, just breathing on each other's skin.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly when he feels your breathing return to normal. “I’ve never felt better.” You answer, finally looking into his eyes again and running a hand through his hair, ruffling it.

He's cute, too cute, his eyes look at you sweetly and he caresses your cheek, brushing his thumb on your skin.

This is no good, this is no good at all, you think.

You have to do something before you make the terrible mistake of melting like ice cream in the sun for this man. You can't afford that. So you take matters into your own hands.

You push him against the wall in turn and his wide eyes tell you he wasn't expecting it.

You give him a smile as you lower your hand to his pants, feeling him hard under your touch. He’s big. Much bigger than you expected even though you just got a preview of him pressing against your thigh as he finger-fucked you.

Your hands quickly fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them. You make room in his underwear to reach his cock. Joel grumbles “oh fuck, yes”

“Take off your clothes” you order. Joel undresses in a second, throwing his clothes and boots on the floor. You lick your lips at the sight of his bulging boxers. You move back against him, massaging him from above the fabric, feeling a large stain spreading across the front. He’s dripping profusely, which makes you even more hungry and eager to try him.

You smile at him as you lower yourself to your knees, bringing his boxers down with you.

His cock springs free right before your eyes, hard, uncut, and impossibly perfect. Your hand slides over the line of hair leading to his crotch, slightly beaded with sweat, and wraps around his base. He doesn’t stop staring at you, enraptured.

Your hand moves up and down his length, lingering at the tip, collecting his precum and spreading it out.

You feel your saliva building up in your mouth and as much as it annoys you to admit it your clit twitch, you can’t wait to taste it. Your mind is fighting against this guy, but your body knows exactly what it wants and doesn’t care if it gets carried away.

You place your tongue on the tip, swirling it around and then sliding it flat down his shaft, over his throbbing, engorged vein, down to where your hand encircles him.

You hear him grunt and your mouth twists involuntarily into a smirk.

His musky flavor coats your tongue as you continue to work his length, you look up and there he is, hair tousled, eyebrows furrowed, mouth agape, eyes like ebony that sparkle with lust, beautiful as a painting. He almost hurts your eyes. You squeeze them shut, concentrating only on the heat in your mouth and your movements on his red and swollen tip.

You slurp greedily increasing the pace as you feel him throbbing more and more intensely.

You are enjoying the silence filled only by the sound of your obscene lapping and his hoarse moans when he decides to speak.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re incredible”

Your blood runs cold, it’s like an unconditioned reflex you can’t escape. An uncontrolled anger rises from the pit of your stomach, you stop and let it out through your mouth. His face becomes confused, you take a deep breath to try to calm the fire that burns inside you and ask him sharply: “what did you call me?”

Mark's face materialized before your eyes, vivid as it hadn't been in a long time. It’s terrible.

He hesitates for a moment before saying “babygirl” in a garbled whisper.

“Don’t ever do that again” you tell him in a firm voice before moving closer to his cock and he mutters “no one has ever complained”

You stop again “It gives me the ick. So if you want me to continue I suggest you stop nagging like a child. Otherwise I can always walk out that door and let you finish with your hand”

“It’s just a pet name” he says, rolling his eyes, like it were no big deal, as if it didn't mean you were going back to where you started, to when you were too blind to realize how much of a liar your fiancé was, to when your heart was in pieces.

He can’t know, that’s true, so you haven’t completely blurted out. But that annoyance still rises in your throat. And you can’t cry, you really can’t. So sarcasm creeps in. “You think I’m a little girl? A princess who needs saving? Fucking Snow White?”

His cock is still standing between you two, waiting for attention. You might laugh at the situation, maybe make a joke about how well he holds his erection, but you're not really in the mood.

His Adam's apple moves in his throat, he gulps air before answering: “no, but…I mean, it’s just a word”

You shrug, looking at him with reproach and resignation at the same time, and try to answer with all the nonchalance you can muster. “Okay. It will mean that pornhub will take care of you, I don’t give a damn” If he can’t compromise then he’s not worth your time, just like every other man.

You start to get up and he stops you, a slight panic in his eyes “oh no, come on, don’t be like that. Ok, ok, I won’t say it again”

You lower yourself again and are about to start over in silence when it occurs to you to teasing him a little, just a little and only because he ruined the moment for you. He did it unintentionally but still. You don't mind the rough play and you think this big guy in front of you can take it.
“Let's try” you think “I can always stop”

It’s not like you’re going to hurt him badly, just teasing.

So you look him in the eyes with all the candor you can, taking one of his balls in your hand. You squeeze it and say “Are you going to be a good boy? Are you going to shut the fuck up for me?” 
“Yes” he murmurs. 
“I’m not your fucking babygirl, we clear?” 
“Yes” 
“Say it.”
“You’re not my babygirl” he whispers.
You squeeze hard on his ball, seeing his lower lip twitching with pleasure, his eyes dark with lust.
Yeah, he likes that, it’s clearly painted all over his face.
“Louder”
“You’re not my babygirl” his voice breaking in the attempt as you put your mouth on his ball sucking hard on it.
You let go with a satisfied smile “Perfect”
You take his shaft back into your mouth, squeezing the other ball gently with your hand and he leans against the wall, eyes shut and whimpering.
It’s so good to hear him like that, your clit is throbbing between your leg and your arousal is dripping all over your inner thighs.
You stop when you feel him on the edge, another few licks on his red and angry tip would be enough to send him over but you’re craving him into your cunt. And also, you like seeing him all pent up and needy for you.

He’s basically babbling at this point, begging you and swearing, eyes desperate for a release, all his body tense and covered in a light layer of sweat.

He’s totally gorgeous and you’re not done yet.

“Don’t cry baby, I will give you what you want” you coo, your lips curved into a smirk.

You get up and take his hand, guiding him on the couch in his living room.

It’s a nice brown leather couch, there is a little hollow in one of the pillows and you imagine that is where he usually sits to watch tv. This is also unnecessary information that makes him much more human and cute than you would like.

You can see him on Sundays, sprawled out there, his feet up on the coffee table placed in front, a beer in his hand, watching football.

No, that’s too much.

You sit him down in the center, caressing his cheek. You pinch one of his nipples and he lets out a groan. You take off the dress that at this point is practically dangling uselessly from your waist, your now soaked panties and your bra which he took care of pulling down earlier making it useless as well.

You’re finally completely naked before his eyes.

You throw everything aside on the floor, feeling incredibly vulnerable but trying not to show it.

Joel is silent but you can see his eyes feasting on your body, lusting over every curve before settling on your pussy that glistens with your juices.

You move closer and lean him against the back of the couch and sit on him, holding his cock with one hand and gently pushing it into your hole. You are incredibly wet but you proceed with caution anyway, he is too big to take in one thrust.

He pants beneath you, lacing his hands on your hips and guiding you gently. You can't see his eyes anymore, which is good for you, he's already made you feel exposed enough. It’s better this way, you can take what you want from his body without letting him affect you too much.

When you are fully seated on him you start to move, bouncing on his thighs, swinging your hips, he tries to keep up with your pace, thrusting into you as deep as he can, sinking into your wetness.

One of his hands moves to one of your breasts, cupping it and squeezing it, brushing your nipple with his palm and then taking it between his fingers.

You lean forward slightly to let him reach that soft spot inside you that always makes you see stars. Your ears are filled with his moans, the sound you like to hear when a man fucks you.

Nothing more than his natural, delirious, desire-filled sounds.

You throw your head on his shoulder and he kisses you, you cry into his mouth as you feel his hand move from your breast to your clit and begin to rub it furiously.

His tongue is warm and delicious in your mouth, a small trickle of saliva runs down your chin as you try to chase it and dance with it.

He's at his peak now, you feel him pulsing hard inside you, his moans muffled on your lips.

“Come inside, I’m on the pill” you only manage to whisper.

His pubic hair tickles your ass as he slams into you repeatedly, until you feel long, hot streaks of his cum painting your walls.

You continue to rock on his hips, lacing one hand around his neck, kissing him, until everything gets confusing, blurry, overwhelming in a way you can't explain. You reach him in a state of bliss, sweaty and exhausted but never as satisfied as you are now.

You pull his cock out of you and sit on the couch, he is on your neck in an instant, leaving a trail of small hungry kisses as you both try to catch your breath. You close your eyes so as not to see his, probably softened and vulnerable, nothing more wrong than letting yourself be taken by the tenderness after sex.

After a while he gets up and disappears into the kitchen without saying anything. He returns with a glass of water and hands it to you. “Thank you,” you say, before quickly swallowing it to ease the dryness in your throat. You set it on the coffee table and stand up before he tries to say something stupid.

You gather your clothes, getting dressed as he watches you from the couch, you feel his eyes on you the whole time.

You lean in to give him a kiss and his hand on your hip feels like a silent request to stay.

You don't say anything, there's no need to say anything.

You walk out the door without looking back.

You're not a babygirl.

A/N: I personally don't mind being called "babygirl" and Joel could call me anything, really. LOL I just wanted to try something different, hope you all liked it. Thanks again for reading, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated ❤️

[greensun]

THE BIG QSMPSTUCK LOREDUMP AKA: I finally get to do all the lorebabble I wanted to do.

EDIT (11/1/2023): THIS VERSION IS NOW OUT OF DATE AND DOES NOT INCLUDE THE PEOPLE IN THE ICE CUBES. I AM CURRENTLY REWORKING PARTS OF THIS BUT MOST SHOULD STAY THE SAME FOR THE NEW POSTS SANS BAGHERA, KAMETO, AND DANTDM'S CLASSPECTS! LOOK FORWARD TO UPDATED POSTS IN THE FUTURE.

SOME NOTES: 1. I have a very specific version of qsmpstuck going on with my art I make that I made with a group of friends (thanks Slimercord!) 2. There are other people who made other classpects and takes on QSMP characters that are more character based, mine is not that case, it looks at how QSMP as a whole would work as a full sburb session, and balancing how many people would be on each aspect or class to carry that motif of Homestuck's balancing/equal duality theme. This means I am looking at and using Classpects as a narrative & plot device, not necessarily a personality test like how someone would classpect a real person (This is how the Extended Zodiac works, and why I choose to ignore it for character classpecting. It works great for classpecting real life people though, so by all means you can use the EZ for you and your friends!). 3. AND WITH THAT! It means two people per aspect and and class, with the exception of space and time having three people, and knights and heirs having three people. 4. FAIR WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NEVER READ HOMESTUCK, THERE IS LOTS OF DEATH IN IT, WITH LOTS OF RESURRECTIONS. I WILL BE DISCUSSING DEATH IN A VERY JOKING MANNER HERE! 5. For posterity in case things change in the future: This post was made August 2nd 2023, after the French were added, and right before the Election arc finished. I'm sure if I came back to this after QSMP is over my classpecting would be different. (Updated August 20, 2023)

I'll add this again at the bottom but if you want more of my notes and thought processes or just more qsmpstuck in general here's the link to my tag for all qsmpstuck on this blog, and here's the link to all qsmpstuck on my regular mcyt blog. (my regular blog includes other people's qsmpstuck takes & reblogs however! But every classpect analysis I reblogged in there w/ an anonymous ask sent to the OP was me on anon lol)

HERE WE GO! The big ol google doc sheet I had to make for this. Every note on that godtier order list is how we decided the character would godtier, and we still aren't even technically done! I have so much information built up for this AU I am not sure I could include all of it in this post.

CLASSPECTS

Anyway, in terms of classpects, the way we went about deciding was 1. Finding symbolic meanings we felt fit the characters best 2. If the classpect was funny and had a fun double entendre to the character 3. If we really struggled, we went and picked up Dahni Witch of Light's classpect analyses and found which class fit a character best within an aspect we had a vague idea of. I find Dahni's analyses to be the best at classpecting non-homestuck characters with, because they give enough leeway in interpretation and are somewhat broad, while still applying as a fictional character's story arc, rather than solely a personality test. We also basically ignored most classpect's assigned "role" concept thingy, they were too nebulous in meaning to help much, with the only ones we kept being Sylphs are the passive creation class with Maids as the active creation class, and then Bards are passive destruction, Princes are active destruction.

AND NOW BACK TO THE CUBES YOU CARE ABOUT: As stated before, we did lay it out so we (mostly) only had two per aspect and class, to get that true fan session balancing spirit. Space/time and knight/heir are the only ones with three members. Here's how the outfits look!

My favorites here & their reasonings are: - Etoiles: Sylph of Blood - We all agreed him getting a classpect that is at least somewhat silly would be fitting, but all immediately came to the conclusion that he would hands down be a blood player. From his love of fighting, and the way he goes about befriending everyone he meets to help them, he's just so blood player. To balance out our initial silly classpecting idea, we made him a Sylph! It fits, like, really well! He creates friendship, he helps people, like. What more could you want from a classpect for him. - Mariana: Maid of Doom - I sent these two asks to this other person about this and liked their reasonings lol. - Spreen: Prince of Breath - Look I'm a Spreengirl I think he would play a great active destruction class and he takes away other's freedom (in minecraft). He kills people. He's just so Prince to me. It's really funny. - BBH: Knight of Life - Do you know how funny it is to take a guy who's whole thing is that he's like entirely black and red themed and put him in the burlap sack outfit. Also Knight & Space player frog breeding combo. He's working with Foolish on those frogs. - Foolish: Page of Space - This guy is the ultimate builder of all time ever. He was hands down the easiest to look at and go Oh he is THE space player here. - Fit: Prince of Space - Y'know 2b2t and hacked clients and griefing people? Prince of Space. Plus since he's a space player, soooo - Philza: Knight of Rage - Another great Space & Knight combo. This guy is such a hater on QSMP (positive) he doubts easily distrusts whenever necessary. Such a rage player. - Missa: Bard of Time - Missa is really failgirl I know quite a few people haven't like... watched much of his MC stuff. However you should check out when he had to be placed in a box to fish by himself so he wouldn't die a third time in Minecraft Extremo. He's a perfect Bard, and then he does music. Great set up for a Time player. Wouldn't want it any other way. - Antoine: Seer of Void - truly. Truly. A guy I looked at for two minutes and immediately knew what classpect he needed. That scene where he just like lightly questioned Cellbit after he escaped the federation and it made Cellbit so nervous he started just saying things that made him look way more nervous than necessary? Core Antoine moment for me. The fact he has a basement filled with so much writing on every candidate? The fact he hides his true face so much? We don't even know what's going on there? Void Player. Seer. So fitting it's beautiful to me. - Felps: Maid of Breath - Look, breath is THE aspect of freedom and doing what you want at your own pace. I think I would be committing a cardinal sin if I DIDN'T make Felps a breath player. - Tazercraft: Witch of Doom & Page of Time - They get to do a fucked up glitch timeloop. With these two classpects they can literally do whatever they want forever. Witch of Doom is a classpect that you give to a character if you know they can rip everything to shreds, have fun doing it, but wouldn't (usually) use it to actively hurt people out of true malice (for no reason) (a witch can DEFINITELY respond negatively if push comes to shove). Page of Time is so funny as a classpect also. Just like... Look up what the Page godtier outfit looks like. You'll see what I mean... And why Pac is a page. - Rubius: Waste of Breath - This classpect sounds really mean, sorry. I promise I like Rubius. He's supposed to be a stand in for what the Hussie author insert was in Homestuck, opposing Doc Scratch and fighting him. Hussie was a Waste of Space, I wanted to keep the pun with waste here. Breath worked the best. The federation has a Lord of Blood ability to counter him. Neither of these two count for the main classpect total.

One day I might post a copy of the google sheet and link it for more in-depth reasonings for every character, but like... almost everyone had reasonings like this where we spent waaay too long analyzing everyone LMAO. This is getting long as is, so I'll cut off classpecting here.

DREAMING MOONS

I am about to say something that will make people either really mad or really happy. There is no canon true definition of what assigns you a dreaming moon in Homestuck's text. The only thing we can glean from canon about which moon you get is that Prospit humans make their bed in the morning, and Derse humans don't. Needless to say, this doesn't help when you want to individually give each person a dreaming moon, but it IS great news for me: it makes assigning dreaming moons based on dividing the cast in half really, really easy. That is how it worked for the troll session, it was cut in half with teams, and then assigned based on red team vs blue team. So that is what I did here. All of the English speakers were given Prospit, and all of the Hispanic side were given Derse. This has lore relevance. We'll get back to it in a moment.

Also for note, the Federation is Prospit, with Dersite carapacians being a more nebulous identity against the Federation. Hispanic side was given Derse because they just seem more like Derse guys. Plus the whole Time on Derse/Space on Prospit theme going on in original HS canon is something I kinda wanted to go along with.

Quackity was given dual dreamer, with one of his dreamselves being ElQuackity, hence why he isn't listed. To balance this, we had to make another dual dreamer, and figured handing it to Kameto, who basically is permanently lost in the void, would be a good balance.

The French and Brazilian sessions were assigned using the "well this character would make sense here" method.

Server/Client Orders & Session Chains

If anyone needs a brief refresher, a client is the person you get into a sburb session, and a server is the person gets you into the session. Everyone is a client and a server to someone different. (tl;dr John was Rose's client, Rose was John's Server.) THAT BEING SAID! It means the loop for sessions close once you're all connected to both a client and a server. There are three separate sessions here, and one of them is a mobius double reacharound.

For clarity, the arrows mean: Client <- Server

The Original session, the mobius double reacharound, is the Spanish-English session. The order is

Quackity <- Mariana <- Spreen <- Roier <- Missa <- Vegetta <- Maxo <- Luzu (<- BBH)

BBH <- Foolish <- Slimecicle <- Jaiden <- DanTDM <- Fit <- Philza <- Wilbur (<- Quackity)

Because of the nature of a Mobius Double Reacharound, it means BBH and Quackity enter the session first, by technicality. The first person in a session is also the person who does the ectobiology. Unlike the troll session which only had Karkat as the ectobiologist, if Q!Quackity were the sole ectobiologist, no clones would be made and everyone would be stuck in a paradox, so I think it's funnier if BBH and Q had to work together on Ectobiology. I find their dynamic hilarious. Anyway, Luzu and Wilbur had to be the last in their respective chains, because no one else would be able to enter.

The next chain is the Brazilian closed Session, which is

Forever <- Mike <- Pac <- Felps <- Cellbit (<- Forever)

As previously mentioned, Pac e Mike (uou uou) have very good classpects to make up for the fact they have no space player. I'll come back to this.

The final chain is the French closed session. It goes

Baghera <- Antoine <- Etoiles <- AyPierre <- Kameto (<- Baghera)

They have balanced moons! They have a space player! They have a seer even! Both light and void! However, in missing a time player, they are forever doomed to fail the session.

LANDS OF PLANETS AND PARTNERS

Now I can finally explain actual lore. My apologies for making you read about 1000 words before this.

The Hispanic-English session is glitched. There is not a planet for each person. They have to share planets with a person from the opposite dreaming moon, generating lands that are a combination of two different aspects entirely. The planetary pairings for this prime session are the same pairings used for the initial egg pairings.

I really love designing lands for Sburb AUs it's my favorite thing in the world. The first one is the Land of Acid and Alcohol, Slimecicle (Heir of Heart) and Mariana's (Maid of Doom) land. Its oceans are acid and gasoline, and then covered in bottles that are a Russian roulette of alcoholic beverages, and then Molotov cocktails! The second is the Land of Steam and Dreams, Roier (Witch of Blood) and Jaiden's (Seer of Hope) land. It's filled with buildings built in an industrial revolution style architecture, playing on how people could believe in social mobility and "making it" in that time period, while also being reliant on heavy metallic machinery! I have a lot of fun conceptualizing lands.

The session's glitches don't stop at the planetary pairings on their own however, and it continues when Luzu attempts to enter the session. The session glitches from him being BBH's client, where it refuses to match pairings if they're connected directly, as the game would be unable to generate the gates above each player's house, it would simply loop back to connecting with the same Land. Luzu ends up being paired onto Quackity's land because of this, because the Game still detects him as having a dreamself on the opposite moon, even if he technically has both.

This causes BBH and Wilbur's land to glitch, and they end up paired together (as a bit of a nod back to how BBH and Wilbur were initially intended to be paired, before admins just made a new egg for Wilbur). We'll get back to this in a bit.

Some other lands from the AH session I enjoy are - The Land of Lush Forests and Iridescent Lakes, also known as LOLFAIL, BBH and Wilbur's land, which is a double Life player land, so the oceans are filled with gemstones and the land is covered in the most dense forest imaginable. It has the most difficult underlings spawn on it compared to any other land in the Anglo-Hispanic session. - The Land of Frogs and Typhoons, Spreen and Fit's land, which every space player is guaranteed frogs as part of their land, combined with Spreen being a breath player, it is a constant hurricane with frogs in it. They do not work on trying to calm the storm. They just start killing the frogs. There are so many frogs. The frogs are constantly flying at anyone who enters the land. Fit's slogan is FTF. Thank you to crow qsmp-yaoi for saying this idea because it truly brings me to tears every time I think about them being hit by those frogs flying at Mach 10. - The Land of Synapses and Static, Maxo and DanTDM's land. It's a darkened land, caused by Maxo's void, and then covered in a blanket of constant fog so thick a lighthouse can barely cut through it. The land also has mimicking noises to make familiar sounds to any player that steps on it, caused by Dan's Mind. It is an overbearingly lonely land. One where you understand what it truly feels like to be alone. One where you can lose someone as soon as you take your eyes off of them. Maxo last saw Dan on this land. No one else has seen him since.

I'm going to stop myself here, but I might come back and draw some more Land illustrations for these, haha.

Denizeggs

With the planetary partners, you might have seen this coming. Each planet in the combined session is missing a Denizen. Instead, what each player finds at the heart of the land is a little egg they need to help raise. They all find eggs at different points, however. Some people find their egg before they godtier, some find them afterward.

All of the eggs correspond to the land of their respective parents, however Luzu joins into the session too late to ever meet Tilin, second to last of the chain, she's already dead by that point.

And then the final major glitch in starting this session, when Wilbur joins as the final member of the chain, and enters, the only land open is BBH's land. Due to the nature of Sburb already knowing how things would end, it was always going to be this way, and there was no other option on who's planet he would join. The game glitches again, and detecting a second Prospit player, spawns in a new Denizen: Tallulah.

The eggs generally follow how they were in QSMP proper. Some of them die early. Some of them don't. Juanaflippa is as tragic as she is in canon. Two dads who are just bad at raising a child and it would have never worked out. Slime still kills Tilin by accident. Spreen doesn't care about Ramon, ditched him etc you know how it goes. The eggs are partially a planet quest too, so it's best if the eggs do live here.

Also in the glitches with this, there's a lack of consorts on any of the combined planets. There are a few, but not really as common as canon proper would have.

BRAZIL! 🇧🇷

The Brazil Session is a closed session between the five Brazilians. One of the requirements to complete Sburb is that you need a Space player (required to have forge in order to complete the final genesis frog & launch it into creating a new universe) and a Time player (required to keep the session in the proper timeline). The Brazilians have a time player (Pac), so they're halfway there!

There's some hiccups along the way. Mostly just Cellbit accidentally killing Felps and having to sprite him so Mike could make him a robot body to live in, but same old same old etc. Pac and Mike also kill each other by accident, but some other stuff happens there.

They still don't have the main aspect to actually continue the session, realize this, and also have a guy with one of the most conceptually powerful classpects to exist in terms of being able to glitch a game and save everyone. They manage to contact the primary session, reaching out to two grieving parents who are desperate to do anything to revive their daughter, one of whom is also a very powerful Doom player.

Brazilian Lands (brief edition)! - Land of Vultures and Culture, Forever's land, is a Hope land based around having Forever work to help save consorts who are hiding beneath intense structures and live in very isolate communities from each other. There's also massive megafauna in the skies that are always trying to kill them. - Land of Electronics and Experiments, Mike's land, is a pretty typical doom land, based around Chume labs, and has a constant lightning storm overhead - Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, Pac's land, is a combination of a land quest he has to get through, and a typical time land. All time lands have a clockwork or a music theme, I think him having a hot pink land that's massive amounts of dollhouse rooms attached to each other he has to make it through is just a fun concept. - Land of Cloud and Sky, Felps's world, is just a land with everything high in the sky. His whole quest is about him harnessing his ability to go with the flow to connect his consorts together. This is hard when he's sprited himself after dying upon entering due to Cellbit fucking up and accidentally killing him, and living in a robot body built by Mike. Aradia style. - Land of Searchlight and Bone, Cellbit's world, is a giant panopticon style prison. With so many bones, both decorating the prison, and filling the prison cells. His final moment is when he gets to the office of the panopticon, and it is his quest bed. He has a whole ordeal over it.

RICARLYSON! So these guys have regular consorts and Denizens, Richarlyson spawns in the heart of Skaia, and gives the quest for the other five guys to raise him.

Pac (Page of Time) has the ability to manipulate time as he wants once he realizes his abilities. Mike (Witch of Doom) can rip a hole in the universe so big it saves all of the players and sets them smack in the middle of another session, especially a previously contacted session with the connection being a Maid of Doom. With a time player land as well, they get a scratch construct on the Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, setting up their ability to scratch their session and set loose a whole new universe where theirs once stood.

French

The French session has probably the most normal planets of everything going on here, what really starts their journey going awry is that they have no time player.

Antoine, being a Seer of Void, can see something is going wrong. He makes contact with people outside of their session in an attempt to restore things to balance. He goes off into the veil and contacts the horrorterrors, and sets up a connection between two Doom players who seem they both desperately need it.

While he's doing that, the rest of the French proceed to have the most normal Sburb session out of anyone. Etoiles is having a great time on his planet. Aypierre gets a genesis tadpole. Kameto has two backup lives.

French Planets (Brief Edition) - Land of Apples and Airplanes, Baghera's land! It's probably the nicest land of anyone's. There are many jokes about how she doesn't get why everyone keeps complaining about their lands being horrible until she reaches theirs. - Land of Sham and Soil, Antoine's land, it's a dark land with tall dirt towers that make it impossible to see where you step. You'd need to be someone who could find where you're going in the pitch dark to even survive here. - Land of Bonds and Breakouts, Etoiles's land, is a land of a giant maze dungeon labyrinth. It's a nightmare for everyone but him. He loves it. - Land of Bogs and Frogs, AyPierre's land, is a land with frogs in a very thick swamp. I'll be honest i Just need to cook on this one some more. - Land of Hidden Leaves and War, Kameto's land, is a Naruto joke.

POMME! Is like Richas she's in the middle of Skaia. An easter egg if you will.

The French session is brought into the primary session when Antoine manages to contact with everyone else fully, rather than quietly watch from the outside. Etoiles and Baghera lose their original selves, and are their dreamselves when the universes collide in, and were unable to godtier, due to not knowing about the quest slabs.

GODTIERING! & the rest of the chronological story

THIS is the order of the godtiers from the beginning of the Spanish-English session. Anyone in the other sessions who godtier before their universe collide event has a red numeral to keep them distinct. I feel pretty strongly almost everyone would godtier here, they're all characters based on gamers. Sburb au works exceptionally well when you know everyone's gaming style.

Also, yeah I have notes listed on each godtier order for how each person dies. Like it's that detailed atp.

Spreen has the highest kill count out of everyone on purpose. I think he'd be down to cut his friends down knowing they'd be revived immortal afterward. As well as, the federation is Prospit in this scenario, they want everyone to godtier. I think him playing to what they want out of him feels his style. Anyway, he sprites his own dreamself due to ElQuackity messing with timeloops. To make his living player self trust him, Spreensprite convinces him to godtier Roier first. It is himself he's talking to, after all. Roier becomes the first godtier in any universe, and not out of his own volition. After seeing it really did work with Roier, Spreen godtiers himself. He gets li'l bear ears ala Jade getting doggy ears with her dreamself sprited, he threw in a Rubius cubito to his kernelsprite first. I like the bear ears I'm biased .3. q!Spreen being really fun in a Sburb concept is why I got hooked on this au after all.

After the first lore is repeated, BBH godtiers himself by decapitating himself with a sendificator to fuck with Foolish. He's kinda bitter about getting beige clothes. He befriends the midnight crew at least. This is before he has Dapper. He finds out about godtiering from Roier by accident and then is like. Oh I have the BEST idea.

Vegetta is killed by Spreen by request, wanting to be stronger to protect Leo, and then Spreen godtiers Missa in order to use his time powers on Derse to throw his dreamself at the kernelsprite, locking the time loop. Anyway, Missa is essentially locked in a tower on Derse's moon after this, now permanently in his Dreamself's body, who hadn't awoken prior. Fit realizes people are walking around in weird clothes, hears about it vaguely from BBH, sends a text to Spreen who'd been ghosting him, and goes like. Hey man. Wanna kill me? And gets his first reply in months.

Phil is attacked by an overpowered monster and almost dies, and Missa manages to get the message to Fit that this is happening through time shenanigans, and Fit manages to get him to his questbed before he fully dies and loses his dreamself. Phil is not happy about this and could not be angrier. He doesn't blame Fit though it's like a self anger thing.

THE BRAZILIAN CASCADE HAPPENS! PEOPLE DIE. By which I mean Slimecicle and Mariana work together to try to help the Brazilians into the session in a bid at saving Juanaflippa, hoping one of them have the ability to revive her. Slimecicle is murdered in the crypts of Prospit by Quackity in a duel, where he cuts off Quackity's arm in exchange for Quackity cutting down his life. Truly one of those luck moments where Charlie dies on his questslab. Mariana is murdered at the same time by Spreen, who is now fully working under orders from the Federation.

Pre-cascade, Pac and Mike both godtier, because they stumble into a stable timeloop, by Mike accidentally glitching Pac's questslab into throwing it at him and killing him. He godtiers with this. Now, as a fully godtiered page of time, they make it to Mike's questbed, and godtier!Mike nudges Pac's slab at Past!Mike to pick up and throw when fucking around with powers.

Felps godtiers in the cascade along with Mariana and Slimecicle, they leave behind Derse and its moon, and they both get destroyed. Where his body sleeping on the quest slab godtiers. Aradia style. Except... as a Maid of Breath, his robot sprite body doesn't explode. He just sort of... exists in both. When one falls asleep the other wakes up. The rest of the Brazilian session just assumes the Cascade fucked with his robot body's energy sources. He kind of just figures each side is a weird dream he keeps having.

Cellbit is staunchly anti-godtier, while Forever wants someone he trusts to godtier him. Cellbit refuses to godtier Forever, and causes a major fight between them. Then Spreen murders Cellbit into his godtier under orders from the Federation, which is preceded by a long Scooby-doo-esque chase, where BBH sees them both, and decides to follow. BBH is a fully godtiered Knight of Life here, he has resurrection powers for other players, and Spreen is functionally immortal as well. BBH 100% catches up to him after he kills Cellbit, and proceeds to put Spreen in a torment nexus of dying and undeath. Thus ends the Killing Spree(n).

AND THEN THE FRENCH CASCADE HAPPENS! The final session connects, and Baghera sacrifices herself to make it happen. After they make it in, they learn about Quest slabs, and there's a whole thing with Etoiles dramatically getting her to her questslab before she fully dies. Etoiles then proceeds to go kill himself on the questslab immediately after. Felps is also hanging out with the French, they found him hanging out in the void and take him with them. They lose Kameto in the void however, nobody's really sure where he went.

Pre-French Cascade, Antoine is the only French player to godtier, and no one will explain how it happened. It seems like no one really knows, but Etoiles keeps saying more fantastical descriptions every time someone asks. He's never taken his seer hood off of his face.

Back in the order of the godtiers, Forever befriends Baghera, and eventually her and Etoiles and Cellbit help him godtier. It's a whole event. Richas is having a blast.

Bobby dies, and Jaiden decides to godtier in order to get into the Federation's good graces, as well as out of guilt of feeling that if she were stronger and godtiered she could have saved him. Roier godtiers her.

AyPierre is godtiered in a tragic accident with one of his many machines. Etoiles helps pull him to his quest bed. He's a Thief of Space he has fun with it.

Foolish is the second to last person to godtier, and he is godtiered by Pomme by accident. He wanted his godtier to be as cool as possible, and somehow managed to not godtier by this point. It's just very him. He's down with the page pants.

Quackity is the final member to godtier. BBH kills ElQ at one end of the universe with the aid of Maximus. Slimecicle kills the regular QQ in one final duel.

At the end of the universe, the only people left alive and able to contact the rest of the sessions to never godtier are Wilbur and Maxo.

DanTDM disappears on the Land of Synapses and Static, never to be seen again, along with Turnip following soon after.

Luzu finds a glitch and is absorbed by it not long after he enters.

Nobody is really sure if Kameto godtiered or not.

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES

We're currently working on figuring out sprites for everyone, so hey! I might come back and add an update on that, but this post is so long my computer is lagging. I have a gaming laptop. It shouldn't be doing that. Here's some stuff on the sprites we do have + some misc notes.

Cellbit's flashlightkind is like how Kanaya's lipstick works. It's a chainsaw.

Spreen has Spreensprite, BBH has Skeppysprite, Missa has a sprite that is a mysterious skull sprited twice called Skullskullsprite, and Roier has his dog with a spiderman called Dogmansprite, and Jaiden has Arisprite, who's Miku & Ari combined :D (thanks icarus!)

It is 5 am as I finish typing this and queue it. I think I started typing this at 5 pm yesterday. Feel free to comment any thoughts you have or play around in this au! Also feel free to @ me if you do, either on my main mcyt blog (@etoilesbienne), or here!

qsmpstuck tag on my art blog / qsmpstuck tag on my regular mcyt talk blog

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

Image Descriptions and Accessibility in General on Tumblr for New Users

What are Image Descriptions

Image Descriptions are text following a picture explaining what’s in that picture. They are primarily for blind/visually impaired people with screen readers and visually impaired people who can read text but have issues with pictures.

They also help people who have trouble:

focusing on/understanding a picture

reading text on images (ex low contrast, weird fonts, etc)

getting images to load

Without image descriptions posts are not accessible to many people, so if you can it's best to include a description or alt text every time you post an image.

Alt text vs image descriptions

Image descriptions are written in the body of the post itself, and have some kind of text before and after, to explain that what's coming up. They typically begin short and concise, but can expand to more detail.

Alt text is added to the image itself, and is what is read by screen-readers (which will otherwise just say "image"). There is no need to add any explanation before the description so you can just say "a description of the image". Alt text can only be added by the original poster, by clicking on the three dots in the bottom right corner of the image and clicking 'update image description.' It is typically short and concise.

On tumblr, alt text is currently available on web by clicking on the alt button (or via new xkit - accesskit - move alt text to captions below image). On mobile, alt text is available in some versions of the app through clicking on the alt text button. Image descriptions are visible on all posts, although if you put them under a read-more, that makes them less accessible. (Thanks to @911described for helping with this section)

How to Make Image Descriptions

Awhile ago I made this general guide. I learned from examples, so here are descriptions made by a bunch of different people. I've also made templates for a lot of common images you'll see on Tumblr.

Other Concerns

Gradient or all caps text make most screen readers read out the word one letter at a time. In addition, these plus text that is bold/italicized/underlined, in colors other than black, or in weird/fancy fonts are difficult for many people to read.

How Filtering Works

You can filter out both words/phrases and tags in the filtering section under the general section in the settings. When filtering out words from a post, it will look at both the text of the post/reblog chain and at the url of op and the rebloggers. When filtering out tags it will look at the tags of the specific post on your dash, and at the tags of the original post.

Tagging for Common Triggers

Don't sensor trigger warnings (for example don't tag suic!de) because then people who have them filtered will still see it.

Tagging for Flashing Lights

If you post a gif or video in a post that flashes, you should tag it with something like "flashing lights" and Not "tw epilepsy" because if any of the tags in the original post contains the world epilepsy it will show up in the epilepsy tag, which is dangerous. Check out this post from @photosensitive-despair for more info about tagging photosensitive content.

Tagging for Unreality vs Misinfo

Things that could trigger delusions/psychotic episodes/etc should be tagged with unreality. This includes:

content that has existential themes related to reality/things not existing (example: a philosophy such as solipsism, do not look up the term if unreality stuff is triggering for you)

extremely surreal content(example: sometimes content such as weirdcore/dreamcore aesthetics can fall under this umbrella but again this is very subjective)

content that reinforces or encourages common delusions(example: that one "im living in your walls" meme)

Things like rp blogs and fake/edited tweets should not be tagged with unreality, unless they contain triggering content. Consider tags like "fiction" or "misinfo." See this post for more info.

Edit:

Addition from @mindflamer

You can look through the reblogs of a post to see if someone's already written a description. There is a button to see just comments vs. comments + tags which makes it easier. Scroll through looking for brackets [], ID, or Image Description. This is great to do if you can't write your own IDs for whatever reason, so that you can at least spread the version of the post that's described if there is one.

If you're not able to write IDs consistently, some is better than none. Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good. You can use the tag #undescribed to make it easy for those who need them to filter out those posts. Similarly, if you primarily tag triggers but can't for certain posts, you can use a separate tag on that to be filtered such as #untagged.

Please, if I forgot something, sound off in the notes and I'll update this post with it

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Sweet Tooth

summary: Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish becomes a frequent customer in your café from one day to the other, always ordering the sweetest options on the menu. You start to prefer his presence over that of all your other regulars, which is why he leaves such a large gap when he's suddenly gone for three months.

notes: don’t drink coffee, so idk which one is the best – pls don’t come at me if you hate it!!

warnings: fem!reader, smut, lots and lots of food mentions

tagged: @ghostsoapgirl @devstinyy @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper (msg me to be added/removed from a taglist <3)

based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN!

When the client dings the bell on your counter a few times, you expected him to be someone rude, probably annoying and hard to handle. Instead, he leaned over the counter and gave you a bright smile.

“Could I get one a’ those things there?” he asked, pointing to a caramel chocolate slice sitting in the display.

“A chocolate caramel slice?” you replied, and he shrugged.

“Sure. Could I get a coffee with that?”

“What kind?” you asked, and he gave you another dazzling smile.

“Whatever the lady thinks is best.”

You snorted at his obvious flirting, but nodded. “I’ll make you a mocha to go with that slice.” You suggested.

“Thanks love.” He replied, handing over some cash. As you glanced outside, you noticed that it was already late. Close to closing time, actually.

“Isn’t six a little late for a coffee?” you asked him as you handed his coffee over. The café was deserted of other customers, probably due to the opening times. A regular sat in the corner, scribbling onto her notepad.

“I’ve got jetlag anyway.”

“Where you coming from?” you asked.

“Mexico.” He answered. “Little bit more tropical than ‘round here.”

You glanced around once more. It didn’t seem like anyone needed your assistance, so you slid onto the bench across from him.

“Home from vacation then?” you asked.

“I wish.” He replied.

“You’re not from around here.” You said. “Never seen you.”

“Never home for long. The name’s John, by the way.”

“Y/N.” you replied. “You should come here more often. Those caramel slices don’t get sold on their own.”

“You work here on the other days too?” John asked.

“Yep. It’s my café, so I’m always behind the counter.”

“Then I’m sure to come back.” John replied,  

~~~

As promised, he came back the next day, this time for breakfast. It became apparent very quickly that he had a sweet tooth. After two chocolate croissants and a brownie, he finally brought his plate back to you. You knew it was an excuse to talk to you, but you certainly did not mind.

“How do you stay in shape eating all that?” you asked, taking the plate from him.

“My Lieutenant’s a tough guy.” He shrugged.

“You’re military?”

“Special ops.”

“Do you have one of those callsign thingies as well?” you asked, and he snorted.

“Yeah. Soap.”

“Soap?”

“I’m good at cleaning and bad at losing, love.” He replied. There it was again. The nickname that made your stomach somersault and you grin like an idiot.

“You still there, hen?” he asked, and your eyes snapped up.

“Yeah, of course, why?”

“You’re staring.”

You knew you were blushing. “I wasn’t.”

John laughed again, stacking his empty plates. He grabbed a phone from his pocket, sliding it across the table.

“Nokia?” you asked. “Does that come with the special ops package?”

“Pretty much.” He replied. “Are you going to put your number in for me, love? Don’t wanna come back ‘ere and see the café bein’ closed.”

“Will I be opening the café for you in the middle of the night then?” you asked, putting your number into the phone.

“Nah. Just wanna have someone to talk to.” Johnny replied. He left some time afterwards, promising to come back soon.

~~~

‘Soon’ turned out to be three months. And when John did return, you were in the process of closing up. You froze when you saw him standing in the doorway. He was still wearing some of his military uniform, a heavy duffel bag in his left hand, his other holding his ancient phone.

He looked forlorn, standing there, as if he wasn’t quite sure why he’d come.

“Hey.” You mumbled, immediately feeling like an idiot. You let your cleaning supplies sink, walking towards John.

“You okay?” you asked, trying to get a reaction out of him. Slowly, he nodded, before changing his mind and shaking his head. Hugging him felt instinctual, and he hugged you back almost immediately.

At some point, he let go of you, and you carefully maneuvered him to sit at one of the tables, slipping behind the counter to make him a cup of tea. John didn’t talk as much as he normally did, and you sat with him in silence for a while.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” you asked. He seemed to think for a while, before a hint of a smile returned to his face.

“Let me take you out.” He said finally.

It wasn’t something you had to think about, even though his response seemed a little cheesy.

“I’d like that.” You replied, and his smile widened a bit more.

He texted you the next morning, using abbreviations that you were sure no one else on the planet was using. It was an invite to an Italian place, one that was near your café and you knew was good. So much so that it made your stomach rumble at the thought of going there tonight.

For once, you were the one walking towards John, who was already sitting at a small table, tucked away in a corner of the restaurant.

As you approached him, John stood up to greet you with a warm smile. He pulled out your chair for you and you sat down, feeling your heart flutter at the gesture.

You both ordered your meals and began to chat about anything and everything. Even though you thought it impossible, John still managed to order the sweetest main course on the menu.

John told you about some of his experiences in the military, repeating over and over how he was leaving out the redacted parts, but you still found yourself hanging onto every word.

As the night wore on, you found yourself feeling more and more drawn to him. There was something about him that just made you feel comfortable and safe. And his easy laughter and charming personality didn't hurt either. When it came to the check, John insisted to pay, arguing that it was just him making up for his tips at the cafe (which had already been more than generous).

And as if that hadn’t been enough, John walked you back to your café after dinner. When the sidewalk became slimmer and slimmer, you felt your knuckles brush against his. You weren’t bold enough to grab his hand, but Johnny seemed to notice your hesitation, gently grabbing your hand.

“I hope it’s not too sweaty.” You said sheepishly, and John laughed, shaking his head.

“Woulda probably been my hand, if anything.” He replied.

“You know you don’t have to walk me to the café, right?” you asked softly. He shook his head in response.

“My Ma would kill me if I didn’t.” John said.

When you reached the door, he turned to face you and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. There was a moment of thick silence, before he cleared his throat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, his words only half a statement.

“The café’s closed.” You told him, knocking against the glass where the opening times were displayed.

“After tomorrow, then?” Johnny asked, and you nodded. He pulled you into a quick hug, before turning to leave. For a moment, you debated what to do-

“Fuck it.” You mumbled, grabbing his hand. John turned around, and before you could overthink your decision even more, you pulled him in for a kiss. A not-so-sweet or gentle one this time.

He pulled you so close your feet barely touched the ground. When you broke the kiss, he had a wide smile on his face.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Didn’t want you to go.” You admitted with a shrug.

“That’s one way o’ doin’ it.” He laughed, before he pulled you back in.

Almost in a flurry, you pulled him around the coffeeshop and up the stairs behind the building, into your apartment. Soap kicked the door shut behind him, lifting you up into the air. Your legs wrapped around his waist automatically.

Maybe you should have told him where the bedroom was, because Johnny seemed to halt for a moment. Before you could say something to him, he set you down on your kitchen table, his mouth finding your mouth.

As you felt a warmth spread through your stomach, his hands began to brush over your thighs, grabbing them with large hands, almost as if he was asking for your permission. His touch, even through clothed legs, made you feel dizzy, and a small moan escaped your mouth as his lips found yours again.

Eventually, the tension became too much to bear, and your hands slipped down towards his pants. Already, he was straining against the fabric, and that made you feel even dizzier, even more incoherent. All words left your brain, leaving your mind fuzzy.

Still, your hands worked on their own, slowly opening his pants. Johnny groaned in response, encouraging you to continue. Through the fabric of his boxers, you palmed his dick, and he leaned into your touch, pulling you even closer to him, towards the edge of the table.

Suddenly, there is a sense of frenzy that hadn’t been there before, a rush of taking off clothes. Your apartment was still dark, but when Johnny took off his shirt, kicking his pants to the ground, you could finally feel him. The strength that seemed to run through his muscles and lied right under his skin might have scared you, but right now, it was exhilarating.

Your own shirt was flung somewhere in your kitchen, your pants pooling under the table as Johnny pushed himself between your legs, his hands wandering downwards until-

“You’re so…” he began, trailing off. His fingers trailed up the insides of your thighs, setting your skin on fire, until they found your cunt. Quickly, he spit on his fingers, before beginning to rub your clit. Your head fell onto his shoulder, a groan leaving you. His mouth still on your neck, his fingers entered you.

He moved slowly at first, letting you accommodate before he sped up his movements, finding that spot inside of you that made you scream. Instinctually, your mouth found his shoulder, biting down. He seemed to like the pain, a loud moan escaping his mouth. You swore you could feel him smirk.

When your mouth left his shoulder, his hand shot up, holding your neck as his other hand began moving eratically. Inside of you, you could feel an orgasm building. You must have begged Soap for something, because his other hand slipped into you again, fingers crooking up.

You swore you saw stars. It sounded like a cliché, like something that would never happen to you, but you did.

“Can I?” he asked after a moment, his hand still on your thigh. Taking a breath, you nodded. With that, his boxers were gone as well, and Johnny lifted you up, slipping into you slowly. There was a small stretch, but you had already come once and he took his time with you, again.

Slowly, Johnny began to move, looking at you for any signs of discomfort, but as another moan feel from your mouth, he kissed you again, moving his lips against yours as if he was a drowning man and you air keeping him alive.

“Can I fuck you against the wall?” he asked, his tone almost begging, and that stoked something inside of you.

“Please.” You replied, gasping as he picked you up, carrying you again. All the while, Johnny stayed inside of you, until your back hit a wall of your apartment. It didn’t matter which one, only that Johnny was still moving, still making you feel good.

Johnny seemed to be able to read your mind, fulfilling your every need. His hands were all over you, palming your breasts, stroking along your curves, holding you close. He made you feel beautiful.

Your own hands were grappling to find something to hold onto. At some point, your nails dug into his back, raking downwards. You attempted to be gentle at first, but he spurred you on, asking you for more, almost begging. He liked pain, you realized.

And so, you increased the pressure when you felt like it. When Johnny thrust into you, you raked your nails down his skin, so harshly that you thought they would draw blood.

Your second orgasm took you by surprise, and it was good that Soap was holding you up, because you knew that your legs were shaking too hard to hold your weight. He followed soon after, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around your body.

Afterwards, he set you down on your sofa, helping you clean yourself up.

“Your legs are a little shaky.” He noted smugly.

You huffed in response. “I think your arms aren’t doing too well either.”

Johnny laughed, handing you a glass of water as he dropped onto the sofa next to you.

“Seems like you really like Italian cuisine.” He said, and you laughed, letting your head drop onto his shoulder.

“Maybe I just like Scots.” You replied.

Johnny rolled his eyes, but he pulled you into his arms again.

“You really like hugs, huh?” you noticed. Johnny smiled, nodding almost bashfully.

“Are we doing this again? He asked.

You looked up at him. “The hugging part, the eating part or the fucking part?”

“All of the above?” he asked. When you agreed, Johnny kissed you again, taking his time with you until you felt your heart speed up.

“Oh god, if you don’t stop we’ll have to go for a second round.” You groaned.

Johnny smirked. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

[raddishwrites]

okay but like connor can take punch

[floral-force]

hey babes!!! I loved that one of Simon and the meet cute, it had me melting 🥹♥️ I was wondering if I could perhaps request a Simon Riley x reader where the reader is part of the 141, but before working with them, she was apart of a special ops group that focused on stuff like infiltration/sabotage, and she’s almost like a black widow sort of character? seduces her targets and takes them out when they’re alone? she’s usually a ray of sunshine with the group, but Laswell presents the mission and everyone’s like “????” and the reader’s like “fine, I guess we’ll do this again” and she’s just COMPLETELY different once she infiltrates??? it gives the whole crew whiplash, but I’m particularly interested in how Simon would react!!! I hope this isn’t too much!!! thanks for always blessing us with your amazing work, and I hope you have an amazing day!!! ♥️

thank you for loving the meet-cute!! this request was fun to fill. I took some artistic liberties and this one really ran away from me...I hope you enjoy this!

(requests are open! search the tags #prompt requests or #prompts and send me an ask!)

Honeypot

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader (code name "Honey")

summary: You’re Task Force 141’s newest operator, and everyone knows you as bubbly and sweet, earning you the code name Honey. How will the team react—especially Ghost, your stoic but sultry lieutenant—when a mission requires your espionage expertise?

words: 2.9k

warnings/tags: my blog is 18+ only. innuendo, canon-typical violence (fist fighting, gun mentions), bamf reader, task force 141 being buffoons, protective and jealous simon “ghost” riley, competency and size kinks if you squint, reader has a code name and uses she/her but no other descriptors

read on ao3 | masterlist

“The coup in Luxembourg is out of our usual bounds,” Laswell said, “but a covert agent working under the deposed Grand Duke has requested our aid.”

“They’ve been an ally to us in the past,” Price added, looping his thumbs under his tac vest, “so I expect you lot to execute this mission with as much precision and urgency as you would any other.”

“Country’s smaller than Scotland, innit?” Soap asked. “How the hell are we s’pposed to be discreet?”

“That’s where you come in, Honey,” Laswell crossed her arms and gave you a pointed look. “You remember your mission in Morocco?”

You smirked. “Is the sky blue?”

She gave you a small chuckle. “We need your expertise.”

“Fine.” You gave a dramatic sigh. “I guess we’ll do this again.”

“”M sorry,” Gaz interrupted with a scoff. “Do what, exactly?”

You turned to look at where he sat across the table from you next to an equally confused Soap. Ghost was twisted in his chair to look at where you sat behind him. 

You raised an eyebrow, your eyes flicked between Price and Laswell. “They don’t know what I did in the States?” 

“No,” Price muttered with a hint of embarrassment. He cleared his throat and shrugged like a tired parent as he said, “I suppose it never came up.”

Gaz gave an exasperated sigh, his impatience getting the better of him. “Well, go on then!” He urged. 

“I was a contracted espionage agent for the Department of Defense, and—”

“The Yanks used contracted agents?”

You rolled your eyes at the interruption. “Yes, Soap. Now, as I was saying,” you continued, shooting the Scotsman a playful glare, “I was hired for infiltration ops. Ones that required a certain…je ne sais quoi, a more feminine touch you lads wouldn’t be capable of.” 

When they all stared at your smiling face with blank expressions for a few moments—even Ghost’s eyes were narrowed with confusion—you jerked your head forward and waved your hands. “Guys, I seduced the targets.”

The confused silence persisted, and you looked around, giggling at each of the guys’ reactions, looking at Ghost last. His gaze pierced you the most, his brown eyes never leaving yours. Your teasing giggles faded, and you severed the eye contact with a roll of your eyes. You looked at Laswell again and crossed your arms, bored of the topic. 

“Now that that’s settled, can we please finish this briefing?” you implored. “I have to make sure I have a dress that’s fitting for a date with a dictator.”

“You sure you’re gonna be alright?”

“For the hundredth time—” you swung a heeled foot on a worn curb with a huff and hiked up the fabric of your dress—“yes, LT, I’ll be fine.” You adjusted the holster on your thigh and smirked at Ghost’s silence. “See something you like?”

There was a pause, and you looked up to see Ghost quickly look away at the street. Guilty.

You knew he felt some sort of way about you; whether it was good or bad was still unclear. One thing was for damn sure: Ghost had his sights set on you. You’d felt his skeletal stare linger on you ever since the briefing a week ago, and he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was at stealing looks when you were at the range or sparring.  Anyone else might feel like his prey—trapped by hungry eyes and cornered by a hulking frame—but you were so used to being the predator that you didn’t let it get to you. It was a little…fun.

Sure, he gave you butterflies, but that was because you’d never dealt with seducing men like him—at least, that’s what you told yourself after thinking about him with your hand between your thighs.

For now, you’d innocently tease and poke and prod the masked man with Soap and Gaz’s support. For now, you’d holster your loaded M9 and leave your leg exposed in yellow lamplight as you made sure your clutch had everything you needed. For now, you’d pretend that you weren’t thinking about him trailing his hand up from your ankle to the holster and grabbing the meat of your thigh.  

“We’ll be able to hear everything through your earpiece. Soap and I will have eyes on you in the palace, but stay near windows,” Ghost said, interrupting your thoughts. “Gaz’ll be on the roof.”

You swung your leg back down, wobbling. Ghost clutched your forearm, and you gripped his, fingernails scratching the fabric of his sleeve and digging into it for stability. His large hand snaked up to hold your bicep right above your bent elbow, your ears heating up when you met his eyes and saw something akin to lust in them.

His grip lingered even after you were steady on your feet again, only letting go when you gave him a flustered smile. You busied yourself with smoothing out the full skirt of your dress and adjusting the discreet monitor in your right ear. 

“All you have to do is get ‘im to the roof. The lads ‘n I will take it from there, as planned.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “If anythin’ goes wrong, jus’ get yourself out alive, Honey.”

“Got it.” You adjusted your necklace, and sheepishly asked, “Is it centered?”

You could smell sweat and sandalwood when Ghost stepped closer, his broad armored chest just inches away from your body. His large, gloved fingers graced over your skin and hands, delicately centering the elegant piece with tactical precision. 

Brown eyes looked you up and down. “Looks good, Honey.” 

Ghost stepped back and his hands fell, one curling around his radio and the other limp on the rifle slung across his body. You burned underneath your dress.

After testing the comms and getting location reports, you gave Ghost a thumbs up and started walking to the palace down the street, rolling your shoulders back and taking a few deep breaths. You could feel his brown eyes burning a hole through you the entire time, so you made sure to sway your hips a bit more than you usually did while seductively strutting somewhere.

It hadn’t taken her long to reach the third floor and approach the tall paned window with the target, just as she’d been instructed to do in their final briefing. Watching Honey expertly navigate the gala and get the target attached to her side faster than the speed of light stirred something within Ghost. Whether it was admiration for her skill or arousal was unclear. Either way, he’d be lying if he said she didn’t look ravishing in her dress. He tilted his head and greedily peered through the scope one last time before tearing his eyes away and adjusting his position on the grassy hill.

Honey was as lethal as she was sweet, and if her saccharine smile didn’t instantly ensnare her target, her sugary tongue would. Instead of doling out compliments, she accepted them and kicked innuendos back; instead of making cringy puns and flashing finger guns, she bit her lip and tugged the target’s suit jacket. It was entirely different from who she was around the team on base, and Soap had made sure to emphasize that all bloody night. Even Gaz had chimed in a few times, both men trying to get him to comment. Ghost silently refused, skin flushing under his mask.

Now that she was closing in on the target, things had become even more heated. He looked at her through the scope again and listened. Ghost heard her laugh, the sound bubblier than the champagne in the flute she raised to her pretty lips. She took a sip right as Soap said the punchline of a joke, her shoulders rising and falling sporadically with a daintily covered cough. 

“Watch it, you twat, you made her choke,” Ghost snapped.

“Sorry, lass, sorry!” Soap crackled over the comms. There was a rustle. “In my final position. Eyes on Honey and the target, LT.”

“Gaz?”

“In my final position, LT, eyes on the extraction point,” Gaz replied, his voice set and sure.

“Captain Price will leave on your command to meet you and Sergeant MacTavish at the rendezvous point, Lieutenant,” Laswell buzzed in his ear. “Gaz, you go with Honey and the target.”

“Affirmative,” Gaz and Ghost responded.

“Affirmative. And, Laswell, you can call me Soap.”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“Aye. Copy that, loud and clear.”

“Shut up, Soap.” Ghost grumbled.

They heard Honey giggle in response to another one of the usurper’s idiotic compliments, and Ghost saw her flirtatiously tap his arm with her knuckles. 

“Y’know, if she heard one of us say tha’ in the pub, we’d never hear th’end of it.”

Gaz hummed in agreement with Soap, and he couldn’t help but shake his head and smirk. Honey laughed again and clearly echoed another awful line the target gave her. Ghost could tell the grin splitting her pretty lips wasn’t genuine—her nose didn’t crinkle like it did when he deadpanned the punchline to a stupid joke or when Soap had called Price “Pa” a few weeks ago.

There was snickering over the comms. Ghost boldly asked, “Honey, take a drink if you meant for us t’hear that shite attempt at flirting.”

Soap cackled when the rim of the champagne flute touched her lips and her throat bobbed with a long sip.

“Well?” Gaz asked expectantly.

“Was a yes, Gaz,” Soap responded.

Ghost saw her eyes flutter closed as she pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, and he grumbled; hopefully nobody had heard him. He was itching to move, his finger hovering over the trigger and his jaw clenching each time the target touched her.

“Right, Honey,” Ghost said, focusing the team again and settling himself down. “Once you’re on the roof, I’ll call Price—Gaz, move on my word or Honey’s, or when Price arrives. Soap, get to the rendezvous when I call Price. I’ll watch Honey and the target. Understood?”

Gaz and Soap gave him their affirmatives. Honey nodded, looking out the window and winking.

She looked back at the target and seductively bit her lip. “Do you think we could go somewhere a bit more…private?” Her query was laced with something sticky.

The target gave her his piss-poor attempt at a sultry smile, resting a hand against her neck and disturbing the necklace Ghost had adjusted earlier. 

He’d be lying if it didn’t make him want to shoot the git dead where he stood.

There was a quiet yes, and Honey said, “I’ve always wanted to be kissed under the stars.” She forced a coquettish giggle. “Well, kiss, and…more, if you catch my drift.”

The target leaned in and pressed a kiss on her right cheek, the act on full display to Ghost.

“That can be arranged, my sweet,” the target murmured, his voice tainting their comms and making Ghost roll his eyes. 

When the target abruptly gripped her waist and pushed her against the window, Ghost heard the faint sound of glass breaking and heard Honey force a playful comment about dropping her flute. Now, Honey’s back was to him, one of her hands flat against the window, her fingers splayed out. His clear shot was ruined. Ghost swore and Soap did as well.

“Target moved too far to my right. Can’t get a clear shot. LT?”

“Negative,” Ghost answered. “Honey, make a fist if you need back-up.”

Normally, he would’ve already had someone storming in to help if he wasn’t already, but Price had made it clear that this mission required tact. Ghost was on edge, but he had to trust Honey, even if the sight unfolding in the scope of his rifle made his skin crawl.

Honey clenched her fist.

“Affirmative. Gaz, Soap, hold your positions. Comms are quiet unless absolutely necessary.”

“Affirmative, LT,” the men immediately replied.

“Extraction is ready on your word. Get out of there—alive,” Laswell stressed over comms. 

“Affirmative,” Ghost sighed, his trigger finger ready and aching to move.

“Not here,” Honey mumbled. Her fist remained clenched, the other hand still clutching her tiny bag. 

She squealed in surprise when one of his hands dropped to grab her ass and squeeze. Ghost sharply inhaled, and he heard Soap clear his throat, holding back from asking for a visual on Honey.

“Not here, Johann,” Honey snapped, the sweetness quickly melting off her voice. “I want you, but I want you to touch me on the roof.”

The target’s other hand grabbed the other hidden cheek, fabric bunching up in his grip. “Want you here, you lovely little thing. Roof can come later.”

Honey gave him the tinkling laugh she shared with the team after showing them a video of a puppy or some other baby animal. Sometimes, Ghost smiled under his balaclava when it was thrown his way—but he’d never tell a soul.

This time, the sunny bells were a warning, and if the target didn’t do as she said, Ghost had a feeling he’d regret more than the coup. 

“If you say so.” Her voice was uncharacteristically dark, its hidden sharp edges revealed.

“Gaz, Soap, be ready for my word,” Ghost said as Honey pushed forward, her heel pressing her dress’s hem against the window.

Just as they both responded, a howl pierced the comms, making Ghost wince. The target was doubled over, and Honey was kicking off her heels, sending them flying towards the windows across the hall. She took a lunging step forward over the broken glass and adjusted her body before throwing a punch to the target’s left cheek. He staggered up and took an angry, sloppy swing at her, but she dodged it and kicked her heel into his knee to destabilize him so she could gut-punch him. The target dropped to the floor. Ghost’s mouth went dry, and his cock twitched as she grabbed a fistful of the target’s hair.

“We’re going to the goddamn roof,” Honey gritted out. 

When the target gave her a sly smile, she took a step back and let go before punching him again. The corner of Ghost’s mouth twitched with a smile when he saw the target staring at her with fear. She’d literally punched the smile off his ugly mug.

“On your fucking feet,” she growled, and he obliged. 

Though he stood, he fought her the whole way to the stair entrance, and each time, his resistance was met with another blow to the gut. Ghost hummed in approval. This honeybee had a wicked stinger and wasn’t afraid to use it.

When she disappeared from Ghost’s sight—still swearing and commanding the target up the stairs—he made the call to Price, then barked over comms, “Soap, rendezvous. Gaz, be ready to assist if Honey calls for it—and, Honey, Gaz is ready to help restrain the target.”

“Negative, LT,” he heard her pant. 

He saw her push the target through the door and onto the roof’s hidden balcony. Gaz was crouching down where he hid, his feet ready to run and his gun in his hands.

Ghost heard her sharply exhale and barely tracked her hand fly up to the target’s bicep. Then, he saw the target slump down to his knees and fall face-first to the ground. 

“Is the target alive?” Ghost hissed, impressed but angry. “If you killed him—”

“Affirmative, LT,” she interjected, catching her breath and pulling an orange bag out of her clutch and depositing something in it. “Just a sedative. He’s gonna take a nice nap during the flight home.”

She hummed a random tune—her favorite song, Ghost noticed—as she put the bag back in her clutch. Honey waved at Gaz when he came out of hiding and walked over to her. Ghost saw her nudge the target with a bare foot and proudly put her hands on her hips.

“Bloody hell, Honey!” Gaz exclaimed, shaking his head. “Did Price know?”

“Affirmative,” Price boomed through the comms. 

The helicopter came into view and Ghost stood up with a huff, slinging his rifle back across his body. He could see them helping Honey up onto the hovering ramp, her dress blowing in the wind. He chuckled before turning running into the forest behind him towards the rendezvous point.

“Headed your way, Lieutenant.”

“Affirmative, Captain,” Ghost replied as he came to a halt next to Soap in the clearing. 

“LT!” Soap exclaimed, yanking his earpiece out, mouth agape. “Th’fuck I’d miss?”

“Ask Gaz,” he said simply, earning a groan from Soap.

The chopper thrummed overhead as it descended. They ran towards the ramp as it lowered, Honey’s triumphant face illuminated by the hold’s red light. Ghost climbed in and sat beside her with a grunt. 

Once they were airborne and starting their flight back to base, Gaz described the scene Soap had only heard. Ghost noticed her diamond necklace was askew from her skirmish and hesitantly centered it. She gave him a soft smile and turned her head so her chin grazed over his covered knuckles. The gentle hum she gave him coated him in sticky-sweet syrup. “Honey” certainly was a perfect codename for her, he reckoned, contrasting her innocent sweetness and cutesy smiles with her impressive—and, at times, lethal—infiltration skills. 

Yeah, Ghost was stuck in her treacly trap—and he didn’t plan on escaping.

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