#but I wanted the fucked-up polar bear facts

[sanguinarysanguinity]

#a ponderment on fucked up polar bears heavily inspired by the 'nanoq: flat out and bluesome' art exhibition by snæbjörnsdóttir/wilson #short explanation of which is that it was a photographic survey of all 34 taxidermied polar bears in the uk #including the one the only blair atholl polar bear. yes it really looks like that. #(they fixed it up some in 2016 but it's still narsty. highly recommend googling this particular beast.) #this is what happens when you put a polar bear on display in 1786 (at the least) and you Keep It There for twohundredsome years

'The Polar bear at Blair Atholl,' 2024.

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

I DON'T CARE, I DON'T MIND 💉 TRAFALGAR LAW X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 8: BAREBACK

🐙requested by: Anonymous. Hello, yes! I forgot the gender lmaoo. Anywho... day 8 with trafalgar Law x fem!reader? (He's my recent obsession since I came to sabaody) ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. pretty sweet and silly. bareback. modern au in where Law still has amber lead's disease. 🐙 wc: 1,6k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

You wouldn’t mind, he is so hot… you wouldn’t care, you’ve always wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him. 

“That’s amber lead’s, don’t come any closer” people whispered when he passed through corridors and halls. 

“Don’t even talk to him, the moment you touch that boy you’ll get it” they murmured when he sat down, alone, under a tree and ate his lunch. 

But you, even though you never came any closer, were never afraid of him and those white spots on his tanned skin. In fact, you spent most of your time looking at him from afar; the way his silver eyes scanned the books, the way his hands one random day appeared covered by tattoos… 

That last year of school went by flying, and that man didn’t even attend graduation, because his loneliness perhaps -or maybe how smart he was- allowed him to graduate faster than the rest. 

And, despite you never saw him again, he never, ever abandoned your mind.

However, destiny has twisted ways to make it happen, when something is supposed to happen… And it only took ten years. 

“Excuse me, Miss… My son isn’t feeling well, do you perhaps know what’s the waiting time?” A tall blonde man, with a kind appearance asks you, an ER nurse receptionist. 

You smile at him; it is almost impossible not to. He is young, so naturally you peek to the side to see his son. However, there wasn’t a kid in sight, so you ask. 

“Hi Sir, who’s your child?”

“Well, you might say he is still a child in a way…” the man says, pointing at a man of tanned skin and spotted white marks all over him, sitting with his phone. 

You immediately remember him, that boy of your school days. But he couldn’t be the same, you are sure his father looked almost like him and not like the man in front of you… yet, the moment he lifts his phone, you notice the D.E.A.T.H tattoos on his hands. 

Ten years have passed, maybe it is just a coincidence…

“Oh…” you blink, in awe… if that’s him, then, he has grown up to become an even hotter man that what you could have imagined. 

You quickly ask the “father” about his “child” symptoms, but it is the “kid” himself who stands up and starts talking to you. 

“Trafalgar Law, 26 years old, high fever, amber lead disease. I need antipyretics, that’s it. Insurance number 107460610” he says, not even looking at you, but constantly at his phone. 

Law… He is the same lonely guy you used to admire back in school.  “Ok, Mr. Trafalgar. Please, follow me…” 

Yet, Law was wrong. He didn’t just need to lower his fever, but, because of his rare disease he had to stay hospitalized for some time. And, to your surprise, one of those nights he remembered you very well. 

“You are (Name)-ya, right? From high school. I remember you had a polar bear plushie keychain on your backpack” he mutters while you happen to visit his room to inform he needed to sign some paper so that he could go home by the morning. 

You take your eyes from the documents; two opened big orbs fixing on his silver ones. Lips separating, warm breath coming in between your teeth. “He remembers me?”

“I am, yes. Law? The ho- the intelligent kid?”  “The horrendous? The lonely one? The sick, contagious kid? Yep” 

You immediately shake your head. 

“Not the horrendous, the hot one!” you tell him, sincerely. Maybe you shouldn’t have said it, but you won’t allow him to lie about himself that way. 

Law remains silent. His cheeks suddenly tinted in slight pink dust. He tried looking away for some time, while you also played dumb re reading the form you hold in your hand. 

“Would you like to grab some breakfast tomorrow when I’m finally off this place?” Law finally breaks the heavy silence only filled with the typical sounds of a hospital. “I mean, if you are not… afraid of this” he finishes, showing you the white spots all over his skin.

How could you be afraid, if those garnish his skin like the first snow of the year does to the sand on a beach? Like the clouds beautifully grow on a hot summer sky? Like the powdered sugar sweetens the most delicious pastries? 

“It’d be my pleasure, Mr. Trafalgar…”

You couldn’t sleep. You really couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned the whole night, you simply remained in your bed looking at the ceiling as if it had all the answers in the universe… answers you didn’t even know the questions to. 

October has already become chilly, and the autumn morning shines its orangey depictions all over your city. The scarf around your neck playfully flies with the breeze outside the hospital and it has you wondering why it is always so damn windy on every hospital door you’ve ever been to.

Such thought becomes interrupted by his sweet raspy voice, and it is actually the first time you come to think it took you almost ten years to hear it for the first time. 

Law didn’t touch you, but he called your name to make you turn around. In fact, his hands remain hidden inside his jeans; spotted ones and very tight to his long, long legs. 

“Law! Good morning! You are looking better under the sun. Let’s go, I know a good spot” you chime, smiling sweetly. Something inside you tells you to grab his hand in a very friendly way, but you stop yourself… is it because of his disease? Or is it because you are scared of making him uncomfortable?

“I follow you” he only curls a tiny piece of his lips upwards, and immediately after hides underneath a white fluffy cap. 

The spot you mentioned wasn’t exactly what Law was expecting; instead of a pâtisserie, you chose a tiny on the go coffee shop in front of the beach. And he was pleased you did; the cold sea breeze kissed his cheeks that helped with the constant blush to have such a beautiful woman by his side. 

Both prefer to fix your eyes towards the sea, as you sit on a bench facing the beach. A hot cocoa warms your palms, while a little inner voice screams to look at him. 

“So… what did you do aft-“ you want to ask; but you are cut short.  “I had a crush on you, (Name)-ya” Law startles you with those words. 

You quickly turn to look at him; out of words you blink slowly trying to process those words, maybe even unsure he had actually said them, or it was just your wishful mind. 

“Everybody turned their faces when I passed, they never looked but only murmured. But you, instead, looked at me. You looked at me. I guess you were just curious, but I still had a crush on you” he reassures. 

You smile, and your hand lands on his thigh. 

“I was, indeed, curious. But I also wanted to talk to you, to sit right by your side and ask about those “Sora the Warrior of the Sea” comic books… I am still curious… and I am still looking at you…” you confess, coming closer at him, slowly, so carefully. 

“Are you?” “I am…” 

Those words maybe were never said; perhaps, they were only thought. However, your lips encountered his so out of the blue, so sudden and unplanned. A kiss so long due, that could even make you laugh to think of how it happened… grown up adults acting like teenagers in love? 

Definitely, both of you act like it, as Law grabs your hand, and both stand up when the kiss breaks. 

“I know this will sound weird and so out of chivalry but… would you like to uh… visit that place?” he asks, pointing at a tiny love hotel from across the street.  

Out of chivalry he says? Well, perhaps. But who cares?

You’ve always wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him.

It took you two a couple of minutes to finally get a room; a Thursday morning isn’t a very busy time for that type of activities after all. 

Bam! The door of the room opened with his back hitting it as both kept kissing. 

“(Name)-ya, aren’t you afraid of my disease? My skin, see? Covered in this” he asks, while your hands work to undress him -rip his clothes off-. 

“What spots? I only see those sexy ass tattoos…” you smirk, kissing his neck and the heart inked on his chest. 

Truth is, science still fought over the “contagiousness” of that illness and still, you didn’t mind, you didn’t care. And Law couldn’t resist himself, no more. You were ok with those spots, you didn’t mind, you didn’t care! 

Skilful inked fingers, hands so deadly undress you as fast as desperate. Your skin, so different than his, so perfect, so kissable, also desperate, waited for his wet and warm kisses. 

Slowly, or maybe violent, both fell on a bed. Bodies jumping, looking at each other side by side on the ceiling mirror… it was almost magical to see the reflection of your flesh one against the other, rubbing, white spots against “healthy” skin… make me sick, I don’t mind, I don’t care! 

It definitely feels like making love for the first time, like teenagers touching other for the first time. You knew Law knows how to fuck a woman, but this time he couldn’t avoid acting clumsy and desperate. 

Kisses all over your skin, your nails carved on his tattooed back. I don’t mind for foreplay, just fuck me raw… bare… do not even think of it. 

He guides his sex, hard, warm into you. Hands a little trembling, kissing you nonstop. Your hips buck up, searching, allowing, letting him bury deep inside you. 

“Ngh… are you sure? I could make you sick…”  “Fuck me, Law. I don’t mind, I don’t care… I actually had a crush on you, too… And I still do…” 

Taglist of amazing babes: @terrabear2003 @eyes-ofhell @votaeto @cokou @seoul-is-a-dream @tinydonkeysforlife @appalost @themessedupsonata @adamsfanficstash @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919 @anothersoulless 💖🍓

[thedevilrisen]

Summer Quam's

Description: “It’s like 500 degrees, we are not cuddling!” “But you already threw off all the blankets?!” “I don’t car- STAY ON YOUR FUCKING SIDE!”

Welcome back to thedevilrisen fic's! I am looking forward to writing the more! I think I may be a little rusty, sorry in advance!

Word Count: 1.4k

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Distraught storm clouds rolled over the horizon, their gloomy rumbles accompanied by piercing claps of thunder as blinding flashes of lighting embellishing the cool grey and cinder coloured sky.

With them they brought warm, moist air which was just on the side of uncomfortable, when the summer storm's roll in the humidity dial permanently spins, like a compass without an identifiable magnetic force. The only hope of relief being the rain that would come, days dragged by, elongated as clouds grew larger and larger, dense and weighed down by droplet's begging to be released from their misty prison.

Movement inside the apartment was very little, dehumidifiers hummed in several different rooms, fan's purred as they fought to circulate the hot air. Still nothing changed, the uncomfortably of the night never dulled as the sparkling lights in window's dimmed into a lightless cavity.

However in your apartment, calmness was not achievable not matter what happened. Restlessness was prominent throughout the evening, the constant changing ice packs to keep cool. The refusal to eat hot foods made it very hard for Connor who was trying to make dinner and stick to his meal plan because according to him a pint of Ben and Jerry's was not an appropriate even when you were dying.

Yes. You were told you were being melodramatic and to come and help chop tomato's for the salad Connor was going to make as a compromise to not eat hot food. Thinking that the cold food would be less problematic. He was so wrong.

"Connor." you whined, for most probably the fifteenth time in a span of about five minutes.

"No, Y/N." he stated, slightly irritated, the heat creating a simmering tension that danced like a mirage. Utterly fed up with not only the heat but your complaining Connor was very much now regretting asking for your assistance. "How about you just go and get a shower or something? I'll finish up here."

You frowned slightly at his borderline begging tone, you knew for basically being a polar bear who lived in the cold the heat was not compatible for him. Knowing it would be better than risking a small, meaningless argument you agreed and meandering down the hallway, soft carpet compressing and splaying underfoot as you moved to the bathroom.

Even though it would be sensible to bathe in freezing water, you didn't, finding the cold water jarring and instead opting for a mid-warm shower instead. The water, slid down your body, cooling you off but not dropping your body temperature completely. Taking the edge off the heat but after stepping out of the shower, seeing the steam still curing up towards the fan on the bathroom ceiling which hummed, as the light gently flicked.

Not bothering to wash your hair tonight, knowing that it would be a nightmare to dry with the moisture in the air and running the hair dryer would create more heat which was not needed in the apartment.

Moving back into the hallway and venturing into the kitchen where Connor sat, left leg swinging beneath him on the bar stool. His fork stabbed at the green leaves and cooked meat in the decorative bowl his mother had sent as a gift set when you first moved in to the apartment six months ago.

"Your's is in the fridge, I wanted to keep the smoked salmon cold because I know you don't like it warm." Connor mumbled, looking down, guilt swirling in his stomach at the fact that he had snapped earlier, he didn't want to but the heat did funny things to him.

"Thank you, love." You moved, cautiously across the tiled kitchen, sighing as the grey tiles cooled the bottom of your bare feet. Opening the fridge, squinting slightly as the all-but surgical light shone out, picking the porcelain plate up off of the top of the tupperware containers in which the plate was so precariously balanced on top.

Feet pattering back across the floor as you moved to slide into the vacated chair, that Connor left after he had his food so he could shower before bed. Stabbing into the greens and listening to the crunch as the fork pierced though leaves and you brought them to your mouth. Connor's cooking was always delicious but something about the heat was altering it, or maybe the lingering tension left in the air from the tense exchange previous.

Swallowing the last mouthful food, slipping off the stool and around the counter top. Placing your hand on the corner of the bench that protrudes to stop your hip from bumping it and aiding the already blooming bruise from when you hit it previously that day, you placed the plate into the sink, gently on top of Connor's.

Almost tip-toeing down the hallway to your bedroom, you stepped inside, hand holding the door, opening it slightly before shutting it behind you. Glancing around to see Connor pulling on a pair of sleep shorts, hair still damp from his shower.

Shuffling along the carpet into the bathroom as you picked up your toothbrush, off of the charger. Uncapping the toothpaste and squeezing a blob onto your brush. Coming to life with a purr you brushed your teeth while straining to listen to what Connor was doing.

Spitting out the foamy liquid when the electric brush pulsated to signal you were done. Pulling a folded hand towel out from underneath the sink, cleaning the corner's of your mouth from the foamy remnants before hanging it to dry over the faucet.

Moving with purpose back out into the bedroom where Connor had dimmed the lights and drawn the curtains before clearly settling into bed himself. His large frame, draped in the sheets fidgeting around trying to get comfortable amidst the heat.

Walking around to your side of the bed, picking a loose fitting sleep shirt off of the floor, that you are pretty sure belonged to Connor six months ago but was somehow commandeered during a visit to his apartment in Chicago and gently pulling it over your head. Opting for just the shirt instead of sleep shorts and a shirt.

Pulling the cotton covers back from the mattress and plunking down into the gap made, swinging your feet onto the bed and tucking them under the sheets, before dragging them up your body and shuffling into a laying position, in the same place you normally lay. Close to Connor so you can feel his body heat, and more often than not. End up cuddling.

Tonight though, you hesitated as Connor could potentially be personified as a windmill. Writhing in the sheets as though they were gripping him and trying to force him somewhere against his will. Rolling over away from his flailing limbs as he flug half the sheets to the foot of the bed, in what seemed like a mad ditch attempt at getting comfortable.

Finally after a few more seconds of tossing and turning, whatever vice that was supposedly gripping him and refusing the respite of sleep let go. Settling onto his side you saw this as your perfect opportunity to snuggle in, tucking yourself under his arm allowing the weight to lull you into a floating state.

That was until he snapped, an angry and guttural sound of irritation projected towards you, "It's like five-hundred degrees, we, are not cuddling."

This made you giggle slightly, even in his anger clouded state you knew he would never mean that. Like a defensive child he pushed you across the sheets, clothes gripping as he did so.

"But Con! You already threw off all the blankets?!" You whined back, thinking that once he'd done that would have been enough, but it was not, beginning to wriggle back towards him.

"I don't car-" he cut himself off, feeling your warm skin brush against him again. "STAY ON YOUR FUCKING SIDE!"

You erupted with giggles, rolling around on your side of the bed, finding his defensiveness hilarious, accepting the fact you weren't going to get cuddles tonight and hoping the heat would die off by tomorrow.

-

Later into the night, when the clouds rolled over and the droplets fell, chasing each other down windows and dispersing the heat from the air. In the slumber that was once restless but now no more, Connor dragged you into his arms where you laid, tangled till the morning sun rose.

[sturniolo-rat]

Cake Eater’s Delight

Matt Sturniolo X Reader

A/N: here’s your anal fic as promised! I spent way too much time describing yoga positions. For this, I am extremely sorry.

Contains: smut, anal, oral, butt plugs

TW: BEARS! Also, the term "Butt Slut" You give me a simple request, and I will do the absolute most

Y/N is wearing yoga pants that accentuate her ass. Matt is intent on fucking it.

Today is self-care Sunday, and Y/N just finished making a strawberry banana smoothie with extra protein powder for her boyfriend, Matt. It’s seven a.m., and she has the whole day planned, but first, she has to get him up and ready.

“Wakey wakey, My sweet boy.” she chirps eagerly, holding the smoothie to his face. 

“Oh god.” he groans, wipes the sleep from his eyes, and sees how hyped Y/N is. Still very disoriented, he says, “I see you’re having a good morning, Baby, but what time is it?” 

“It’s seven a.m. and I’m super excited for our early morning nature walk!”  

He sits up and sighs. “The fuckin’ nature walk.” Matt was actually pretty enthusiastic about this last night when he agreed to it, but not so much this morning. It’s too early, and he just wants Y/N to come back and be the big spoon for the next two hours. The smoothie, however, is immaculate, and he made her a promise. He summons all of his strength and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He sits facing Y/N and says with a smile, “I’ve never been more pumped for anything in my life!” Y/N gives him a bone-crushing hug before skipping off to get him the outfit she picked for him yesterday. Matt can’t help but stare at her booty as she makes her way to the closet. Those damn yoga pants get him every time.  

Half an hour later, they arrive at the closest California state park. Matt is warming up to the idea of this walk. He really does love nature, and having a little stroll in it is certainly something he would do as self-care. “Maybe we’ll see a bear!” Y/N squeals. 

“I love bears. They're so fucking big and dumb.” He really does hope they see a bear. His excitement over seeing a dangerous animal in the wild isn’t his fault. He has a very serious condition called white man curiosity. Bless him and his family. 

As they walk the dirt trail, Matt tells her facts about all the animals and plants they encounter. At some point, the trail leads them to a very colorful part of the woods filled with flowers. The trail has slowly been getting narrower, so Matt is now walking behind Y/N. “Baby, If I sincerely told you that I accidentally body-swapped with my sister, would you believe me?”

He’s deeply confused by the question, but he has an answer for it, regardless. “I would probably ask you a question that only you could answer first.” he pauses to laugh at how silly she is. “Would you believe me?”

“Most definitely,” she responds with unnatural quickness.

Matt is taken aback. “Why so certain?”

“Well, now that we’ve had the conversation, I don’t think you’d say you were body-swapped unless it actually happened.”

He’s getting very invested in the conversation now. “I’m not worried about it because you only really get body-swapped with people you dislike. So I don’t think there’s any danger of this happening to me and my brothers.”

“I don’t hate my sister, but we are polar opposites, so I see body-swap potential.”

“Be careful not to get sucked into any body-swapping hijinks, My love.”

“I’ll try, but no promises.”

Suddenly, he grabs her arm and stops her in her tracks. Y/N turns around to look at him, but all she sees is a beautiful array of flowers. Matt had been behind her, picking a bouquet of flowers as they talked. He moves the flowers from in front of his face and hands them to Y/N. “It’s a thank-you gift. I truly am having an amazing time today.”

“This is insanely fucking sweet. Thank you so much, Baby.” She leans in to give him a soft peck on the cheek. “I think we should start heading back though. We’re getting kinda far out.” They had gotten lost in each other's company and didn’t notice that they had been walking for an hour and covered at least 2 miles of the 5-mile trail.

Matt tears his gaze from Y/N’s face to take in their environment. “Goddamn, we’re like way out in the fuckin wild!” He can tell Y/N is getting somewhat uncomfortable with the thought of being so deep in the woods, so he holds out his hand for her to take and starts to walk her back down the trail. 

Y/N lets go of his hand and taps him furiously on the shoulder. “Matt. Matt, it actually fucking happened. Look!” she whispers in his ear and points into the distance. 

“A bear!” Matt yells.

“Hush!” she hits him hard on the head. “Don’t be the idiot who gets killed because he screamed at a bear. Just get the camera out.”

He fumbles with his backpack but realizes he didn’t pack it. He was so sure they wouldn’t come across a bear. The pictures and videos he takes on his phone will have to do for their next vlog. Once Matt has all the bear material he needs, they continue down the dirt path, tip-toeing very quietly.

When they finally reach their car, they’re exhausted, sweaty, and gross. Matt, however, is also rocking a semi. He’s been walking behind Y/N for hours now, watching how her ass moves. They’ve just started experimenting with butt stuff recently. He’s been obsessed with her backside ever since. He can't get the image of the pink hello kitty butt plug sticking out of her ass out of his mind. The drive home is pleasant and gives him time to calm down. Matt doesn’t want his horniness to get in the way of the day Y/N has planned. 

They arrive home, and Y/N flops on their bed. The walk was way longer than it was supposed to be. She’s anxious to tell Matt about the next activity she has planned, but she needs a quick break to hydrate. Matt comes in clutch and brings her the Stanley cup she filled up that morning but forgot to bring. She sits up and takes the cup. “Thank,” she says as she takes a sip. “God!”

“Don’t thank God. Thank me, Honey.” he winks as she absolutely chugs her water. There’s water dripping from the sides of her mouth running down her neck and breasts. Fuck she can even make drinking like a feral caveman look sexy. When she finishes, she sets the cup down, and Matt’s dick jumps in his pants. She looks like she could be in a wet t-shirt contest. He’s really fighting for his life right now and needs an activity to distract himself. “Alright! Get up, Baby. It’s time for whatever’s next on the list.” He hopes it's something lame and calming like meditation or maybe some silly facial skin routine.

“Okay, I’ll go get the yoga mats and bring them to the living room.” She hops up from the bed, fully recharged and energetic as ever. “Oh, yay. I’m gonna bring my new yoga ball, too!”

“Oh, good!” he says quite insincerely. He should have seen this coming. She’s wearing the yoga pants she reserves for actually doing yoga. This is going to be torture. He tucks his boner into his waistband and waits for Y/N in the other room.      

When meets him there, she kicks her yoga ball into the corner and gives Matt a big hug before setting up their pink and blue yoga mats. She’s so happy to be spending the day relaxing and playing around with him. Her ponytail whips around behind her as she spins to face Matt. “Did you know it’s actually recommended that you do yoga or stretch after long walks? The walk wasn’t meant to be long, but how lucky it is that my plan works out.” She’s speaking extremely quickly due to her excitement.  She pauses for a breath but begins talking again before Matt can respond. “Are you ready?” she asks expectantly.

“Of course, My love. Your plan is perfect.” 

They stand on their respective mats, and Y/N realizes that Matt has probably never done yoga in his life. “Let me show you five poses you need to know before we start.” He takes a deep breath and prepares for a face full of outstretched booty, but to his surprise, she sits down crisscrossed. “We’re gonna start off with the Sukhasana. Just sit down, touch your pointer fingers to your thumbs, and close your eyes.” 

“Seems easy enough,” He says and patiently watches as she changes pose. 

“Then we’re gonna transition into the Adho Mukha Svanasana. Just get on your hands and knees,” she demonstrates as she talks. “Place your hands down in front of you, shoulder-width apart. Then walk your legs back so your hands are under your shoulders, and your knees are under your hips.”

“That’s a lot of words to explain what I believe is the very simple-looking downward-facing dog.” Yup. This is exactly what he expected. It’s awful and stressful, but it’s also absolutely fucking glorious. Her booty is a piece of art crafted specifically for him by the hands of God. He tears his eyes away and looks at her face as she once again, changes her pose. 

“Oh, shut up. I’m trying to sound like a yoga professional,” she says with a small chuckle. “Anyway, the next pose is the pigeon pose.”

“Yeah, super fancy and professional.” He smirks, and she rolls her eyes.

“Moving on!” she says, letting out an exasperated breath, “From the Adho Mukha Svanasana position, you’re gonna lift your left leg up while keeping your other leg straight and your foot arched.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Matt whispers loudly. The pose essentially looks like she’s throwing it back on the floor. Her bottom is round and cute, and all he wants to do is reach out and squeeze it. That’s a lie, actually. He wants to smack it. Hard, very fucking hard. He wants to grope her fat, meaty thighs and worship her body. She’s talking, but he can’t hear her. He’s in a trance, and he needs to do something about it. “I’m sorry, Sweetness. I really am, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Y/N gets up and looks at his face, very concerned. “What’s wrong, Baby?”

He still hasn’t looked up at her face. “It’s your ass.” He licks his lips. “I have to fuck it.”

Y/N moves so that she’s directly in front of him and grabs him by his jaw to make him look at her. She whispers in his ear, “I know.” Matt has been lusting after her all day. There was no possibility that she wouldn’t notice. "Time to destroy my root chakra."

“Fuck yes!” He pulls her into a rough, toothy kiss. His lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against hers. His hand reaches up to massage her breast, and she moans into his mouth. She needs him. Needs to see more of him. Y/N tugs at the hem of his shirt. Matt takes the hint, breaks the kiss, and removes it. She puts her hands on his chest and rubs them down his abdomen. He’s so beautiful. 

In one swift motion, he wipes her hands away. She whimpers and gives him a pathetic, needy look. “I know you want to touch me, Baby. I know.” He says as he makes his way over to get the yoga ball. “But right now, I need you to bend over this ball and show me that pretty, pretty ass of yours.” 

Y/N does as she’s told. She loves it when Matt bosses her around. He pulls at her pants aggressively, and she doesn’t understand what he’s trying to do. Then she hears a tearing sound and feels the cold air on her bare bottom. “You just ripped my favorite yoga pants!”

“Quiet!” He barks. “I’ll get you new ones.” He says as he forces her panties down around her knees. His hands part her cheeks, and he can’t believe what he sees. He has been lusting after this woman all fucking day, thinking he was being a pervert. Little did he know that Y/N had her butt plug in the whole time. He takes a closer look. It’s not her favorite Hello Kitty one, but the one with the blue jewel on the end. Matt’s eyes widened; it’s their second biggest one. Y/N anticipated this, and she always comes prepared. 

He kneads both of her cheeks as he asks, “Oh, Sweet girl, did you plan this? Was this part of your little self-care day? Did you need to be a little butt slut for me to feel complete?”

“I do.” She whines. “Last night, I got so horny thinking about you playing with my ass.”

“I can tell, Sweetheart. You used the big blue one. We’ve never even touched that one before. Were you training your ass for me?” He sits on his knees behind her so his face is level with her rear. Matt takes his time biting and kissing her ass. She lets out a hiss when he starts to play with the plug, pulling it out only to put it back in again. Every little movement has her gasping. He keeps going until she’s too loose for the stretch. He slaps her on the ass with so much force he leaves a handprint, and she lets out a wail. 

“I know we haven’t done it before, but do you want to take my cock?” he asks.

“I want to try,” she says in a shaky voice.

“Are you sure?”

“I am. I swear.”

“I promise I’ll be gentle, but first,” He shoves his pants and boxers down and takes his cock in his hand as he walks around to Y/N’s front. “I need you to lube up my cock. Can you do that for me, Baby?”

“Mhmm, I can.” She replies eagerly and opens wide. 

Her mouth is wet and warm around his cock. He holds her hands behind her back so she has to deep-throat him to reach his base. The dirty, sloppy sounds coming from his thrusts in and out of her throat are music to his ears. He needs to hear more. He grabs her by the ponytail and fucks her face harder. He wants to hear her choke and gag. She doesn’t mind it. She’s just happy to be of service. Her mouth is so fucking perfect, but he needs to stop before he cums. He pulls out, and she gasps for air. “You okay? Catch your breath, Baby.” He gives Y/N time to orient herself. 

“I’m okay.” She gives him a big smile. Only sluts smile like that after choking on cock.

“If you want me to stop at any point, just tell me, and I'll stop.”

Y/N nods her head, and Matt takes his spot behind her. He pulls the butt plug out very carefully and sets it aside. Her pussy is so wet and leaking, but he ignores it entirely, except to say, “You’re dripping down your thighs, My love.” he smiles to himself as he taps his cock on her ass. “You’re soaking your new exercise ball,” he says as he slowly pushes his tip in. When he finally pushes in past his tip, it burns and hurts, but she loves the sensation. She keeps thinking that it can’t get any longer, but it just keeps going, and the stretch burns until, eventually, he gives her all of him. Her asshole clenches hard, and it feels so fucking amazing, but then it’s burning and hurting right at the entrance, and she whimpers as he pulls himself out halfway. He’s going so slow, and he wants to speed up so badly. Her asshole feels so much better than he imagined it would. He knew she would be tight, but he didn’t know how deep she could take him. She can’t fit him all the way in when he fucks her pussy. It feels so nice to be able to give her everything he’s got. 

“You can go faster now.”

“Oh, yes.” he bites his lip and speeds up to a respectable pace. 

“No, faster. I need it faster,” she says desperately. He picks up the pace, and finally, he starts to feel like he’s properly fucking her. She’s moaning and whining because it feels so bad and so good at the same time. It’s a very confusing sensation, but all she knows is she wants to cum so badly. Usually, Matt likes to make Y/N cum first, but he doesn’t know if anal will make her cum, and he just can’t resist cumming in her ass. He stands her up so she’s up against his chest and reaches in front of her to rub her clit. This is what she needs, what she’s been missing. He loves the sounds she’s making. He doesn’t even notice he’s been drilling into her faster and faster. Y/N is letting out loud yelps with every thrust. If anyone overheard them, they would think she was in agony. 

“I’m gonna cum, Baby. I want you to try to cum with me. Can you do that?” he says, breathing heavily.

“I can try.”

“What do you need, Love? How can I help you cum?” 

“Please pull my hair.” His hands are around her ponytail before she can even get all the words out. He pulls so hard she’s forced to look up at the ceiling. 

“Like that?”

Her eyes are rolling to the back of her head. “Fuck, yes! Just like that! I’m gonna cum!” 

Matt puts more pressure on her clit and feels her cumming. It feels different from when he’s in her pussy. The thought of having had every one of her holes pushes him to the edge, and he releases himself into her asshole. 

Y/N’s knees buckle, and she collapses onto the exercise ball and pants. He wants to ask her if she’s alright, but he’s distracted watching his cum leak out of her ass. “Fuck,” he leans over to pick he up bridal style. “Let's get you into a bath, okay?”

“You’re not gonna believe this, but that’s actually next on the list.”

“Perfectly planned, My love.”

Masterlist

@rafecameronsbitch @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @mrsmiagreer @lovergirl4387 @gdsvhtwa @ashley9282828 @j-worlds-blog @stephanienwf @achrisgirly @draculaura123 @abbypost @Cind2224 @crazychrisl0v3r @ryli3sworld @bkwrld @pinkishpearls @pepsienthusiasts @stunza @chrattstromboli @sturnssmuts @angelic-sturniolos111 @69isabella69 @maryx2xx @sturniolo04 @bigbeefybitch @klaus223492 @r93339 @sturnzsblog @spotconlon55 @robins-scoop @junovrsmp4 @sturnlover4eva @blahbel668 @lilahnowheretobefound @luxy-nyx @tuffsturns @m0r94n @sturnstvs @pepsicolapussy333 @maddyslifesstuff @dogblof @honeymoonxxz @xplr-sturns-e-m @hayhjelmstad15 @thetriplets3 @y0urm4m @mattyblover07

[autisticlancemcclain]

parts one two three

———

The first emotion Keith feels, immediately upon waking, is intense dread.

And if that doesn’t sum up the day he’s about to have. Fuck’s sake.

He already feels pretty guilty about yesterday. Besides the fact that Lance is his right hand man — they’re supposed to have each other’s backs, and Keith definitely didn’t have Lance’s, because even though Lance wasn’t in the right he wasn’t in the wrong either — and they’re supposed to be leading this as a team, Keith knows part of the reason things fell apart so quickly is because he didn’t talk to Lance last night. He probably couldn’t’ve convinced Lance to kill the beast, obviously, but they could have definitely explored some different angles together. By letting things fester, Keith pretty much ensured that Lance was going to come up with some elaborate, dangerous scheme that was going to cost them an alliance, and worse, possibly get Lance hurt or killed. (Lance had a good track record with dangerous animals, sure, but this is a beast. The thing sounded like a mix between a polar bear and a dragon. There’s only so much Lance can do, uncanny abilities or not.)

But what’s done is done. Keith can’t very well redo yesterday and make Lance un-mad at him and everyone else, so he’ll have to make do with what he’s got.

And what he’s got is first shift on make-sure-Lance-doesn’t-mutiny-duty.

Fuck, Keith thinks as he makes his way out of his room, this is going to be the Actual Worst.

As usual, Keith is one of the first people on the bridge. Unusually, Lance is next. (Usually he is last, and also late).

“Hey, Lance,” Keith says, trying to muster up a smile.

Surprisingly, Lance beams right back. “Hello, Numb — uh,” his smile falters. “I mean, hi there, Mullet.”

Keith slumps. “I’m still Mullet, huh.”

Lance nods.

“You reckon I’ll work my way back up to Keith, soon? I’ll do anything, you know I will. I’ll even try your horrible face mask with you.”

To his further surprise — Lance must have actually slept well, or something — Lance smiles again, and this time it’s soft even to Keith’s eyes.

“Really? You would do that?”

“I’d do anything for you,” Keith says, and it’s more than he means to.

Lance frowns, and Keith’s heart sinks for the millionth time in just a few hours.

“Except help me save an innocent animal’s life,” he says, and there’s nothing Keith can say to that.

They sit in tense silence until the rest of the paladins arrive.

Shiro counts them once they do, like they’re kindergarteners and he’s a very tired EA, and furrows his brow when he finishes.

“Six. Including me. Who are we — where’s Coran?”

“He said he’ll be here in a few dobashes,” Lance says. “A calibrator broke down in the control room somewhere — nothing urgent, but he wants to get it fixed to get it out of the way. He’ll be back before we’re gone long.”

“That’s fine. Thank you, Lance,” Allura says, transparently trying to ease the tense line of his shoulders, a little.

It does not work. Lance sets his jaw and looks away.

Allura sighs. “I’m sorry, Lance,” she tries. “I know this is hard for you. If it were possible, and we had more time, we’d find another way.”

“Whatever.”

Keith decides that enough is probably enough. Allura and Shiro look genuinely dejected and apologetic, and both Pidge and Hunk look upset.

“Look, Lance, this situation sucks for everyone, okay? It sucks. We’re going to do what we can. If we get to the situation in question and we can actually manage to fix things without killing the beast, then that’s what we’ll do, okay? We’ll do our best.”

Lance exhales, shoulders slumping. He looks… guilty, and his guilt certainly does nothing to appease Keith’s.

“Sorry,” Lance mutters. “I know this is hard for everyone.”

Keith swallows the lump in his throat. He genuinely can’t remember the last time a non-major battle mission sucked so unequivocally for everyone involved, but Jesus Christ.

“Let’s just go,” he says, and everyone nods before following him off the castle and to the wet, humid heat of the planet.

———

part four

[bullet-prooflove]

Distance: Roy Kent x Reader

Tagging: @anyamcdonald @elizabeththebat

Roy isn’t looking forward to seeing your name pop up on his phone. He dreads the conversation the two of you are about to have because he knows you’ve seen the papers. He pauses in the corridor that leads to the locker room, his thumb hovering over the button to receive your call. This is not discussion he wants to have in front of all the other shitheads. He grasps the doorknob of the Boot Room instead, steeling himself for the stench before he steps inside.

The screen lights up and he sees your face. It makes something ache in his chest because despite the fact it’s only been a week, he misses you ferociously. You’re in Ireland at the current moment, researching one of the episodes for your true crime podcast and his bed has never felt so empty. He sleeps with his face pressed into your pillow. It’s pathetic.

For a moment he forgets about last night, about his bad behaviour at yet another charity event, that he was forced to attend to appease one of his endorsements. Something about Saving the Pandas or that shit.  Instead, he focuses on you and how fucking beautiful you look in a peach coloured robe that leaves very little to his imagination. He wishes he was there with you, fingers untying that knot, the one that holds the whole thing together.

“Hey.” He says softly as he sits down upon the bench.

“Hi.” You return, tucking your damp hair back behind your ear. “I think you forgot to mention something when you called last night.”

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t?” He asks you half-heartedly.

“I’ve seen the pictures.” You inform him, your chin coming to rest upon your hand.

“You know they don’t tell the whole story.” He reminds you.

“Roy,” You say in that tone of yours, the one he fucking hates because it makes him feel like he’s being completely irrational. “You headbutted a Booker Prize Winner at a Save the Polar Bear event.”

Polar Bears, not Pandas. He fucking knew it was some kind of bear.

“No.” He corrects you. “I headbutted your ex-boyfriend because he was being a little prick.”

There’s silence between the two of you, he sees you purse your lips together and he sighs because he knows what’s coming, you’re going to ask what he said, and Roy does not want to repeat it. He would rather endure a thousand laps of the fucking pitch that recount the words that came out of that dickhead’s mouth. He doesn’t give a shit that he lost his sponsor, that he made a scene and now he’s the nation’s bad boy. All that matters is you, you knowing that he has your back no matter what.

“You’re not going to tell me what he said are you?”

“No, I’m fucking not.” He tells you, shaking his head.

To be fair he had tried to walk away, he really had but Martin just couldn’t fucking help himself. Of course, your ex had seen that picture of the two of you, the one that the papers had run of him kissing you on the doorstep. You’d managed to keep it on the downlow up until that point. He hadn’t wanted your life to get any more complicated. He had gotten pretty good at dodging the paparazzi but there must have been one camped out.

That kiss…

It had been fucking filthy. You’d ended up coming back into the house and fucking him in the hallway, you didn’t even take your dress off. It had been the day you were travelling to Ireland, and he knows you felt the same way as he did, like you were losing something. You were only going away for a few weeks but you both hate the distance. You’ve become a fixture in his life, a grounding force and Roy’s not afraid to admit that.

“Fuck Roy, I’m sorry…” You begin and he holds his hand up to cut you off because he will not tolerate you apologising for something that wasn’t your fault.

“I’m a big boy.” He tells you forcefully. “I make my own decisions and my decision was to headbutt that gobshite.”

He sees your lips twitch up into a smile and he knows he’s won you over. You know as well as he does what a prick Martin is, it’s why you broke up with him in the first place. That and the fact you caught him fucking a page three model in your bed. Some people really are just cunts.

“Now I need to know yea? Did the nun really burn down the orphanage or was it someone else?” He asks you, referring back to the case you’re working on. “Because that shit has been playing on my mind all morning.”

“You wanna hear what I have so far?” You ask him, picking up your notepad and flicking through the pages. Roy leans back against the shelves, shifting on the bench so he can get a little more comfortable because he is dying to hear the rest of this story. When he hung up with you last night, you were still working on the narrative and refused to share anything after the ad break because it was too raw.

“Yes.” He tells you. “I fucking would.”

Love Roy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[theotherbuckley]

Purple's fic master list

a thousand ways to call you mine Bucktommy | 14.2K | E

Buck thinks he could happily live off this; trading breaths through gentle presses of their lips. It’s everything Buck wants. And Tommy kisses him back so softly, like Buck is something to be cherished. Then, after a few extra chaste kisses to his mouth, Buck pulls back and smiles, a cheeky grin growing on his face as he remembers what started this. “Now I have to come up with a name for you,” he announces. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Tommy replies, unaware of what he’s just gotten himself into.

(Or a 10+1 fic where Buck tries to find the perfect pet name to call his boyfriend)

Cow Eyes Buddie | 2.2K | G

Buck gets the call on a Saturday. He’s sat at the kitchen table, delving into some strange corner of the internet where he’s apparently discovered that seahorses hold each others' tails when they swim and that cows have best friends and that Eddie’s big brown gorgeous eyes remind him of cow eyes and maybe if they were cows then they’d still be best friends— And then he gets the call. His phone starts ringing just as he’s learning about polar bears giving each other nose boops. He reaches out and grabs the phone off the counter, still so lost in his deep dive that he doesn’t even check the number that’s calling. “Hello?” “Is this Evan Buckley?” A professional-sounding woman answers. It’s then that Buck promptly forgets whatever facts he just learnt and instead feels a familiar ache creeping its way into his chest. “That’s, uh— that’s me,” he manages to get out. “You’re listed as Eddie Diaz’ emergency contact, is that right?”

(Or the 'Eddie's in hospital and Buck tries not to break down' fic except its actually just a cute silly little fic)

i thought it would be me Bucktommy | T | 3.7K

Buck really thought he would be the one to get hurt first. He’s pretty sure the universe is out to get him, and he’s had a near-death experience every other year, so he really expected he’d be the one in the hospital. He should have known his bad luck would lead to Tommy being in that position instead—because that hurts more.

(Or Tommy's in hospital, Buck worries, and a nurse won't let him see him)

Tripped and Fell Buddie | E | 5.8K | PWP

“Buck?” Comes Eddie’s voice from the hall.  Oh fuck. Buck really should have paid attention to the clock. Before Buck can think about how to get himself out of this one, Eddie appears in the doorway. Buck sees his eyes darken and the way he clenches his jaw.  “Buck.” Eddie’s voice is so neutral and controlled. Oh, Buck has royally fucked up.  “I— um.” Buck swallows, his mouth awfully dry as he tries to come up with some explanation for his insubordination. He could say it was an accident. He, uh, tripped? He can see Eddie already tenting in his trousers, so he can’t be in too much trouble, right? “Did I say to stop?” Eddie questions.

(Or the boys get a new dildo, and Buck can't wait to use it, literally. Eddie comes home and deals with his misbehaviour.)

running from myself (and the memories of you) Buddie | 12K | T

He wants to tell Eddie everything, he wants to tell him that he’s struggling, that he can’t sleep without being plagued with nightmare after nightmare. He wants to tell him that the worst ones are when Eddie’s lying on the road reaching out towards him and he’s just stuck watching, when he can taste Eddie’s blood on his tongue, feel it splattered across his face. He wants to tell him that when he wakes up the blood is still there, so he throws up in the toilet until the taste of copper is forced out of his mouth and he washes his face 10 times until he’s sure there’s not a drop of blood left. He just wants to tell him a random fact that he found out at 3 am when he went down the rabbit hole starting with the world's tallest skyscrapers and ending with the knowledge that most elevator close door buttons don’t actually work. But now he looks at Eddie and he just can’t help but think that he’s being a burden, that Eddie got shot and shouldn’t have to deal with him too. So instead, he runs.

(Or Buck has years of unresolved trauma and can't sleep, so he tries to literally outrun his demons instead. Luckily Eddie is there to pick up the pieces when he finally breaks.)

I'll Take Care of You Buddie | 5.1K | T

Eddie squints up at him, looking him up and down. “Are you okay? Is your leg okay?” Eddie always did see right through him. Dejected, Buck slumps against the wall, letting a small sob leave his mouth before he palms at his eyes. He shakes his head. “‘S not good,” he practically whimpers.

(Or Buck has chronic pain after the bombing, Eddie takes care of him, and it's actually super sweet and sappy because these boys are hopelessly in love)

Pancakes, kisses, and a little bit of TLC bucktommy | 4.5K | T

“Evan?” Tommy asks, his voice deep and gravelly. If it were any other day, Buck would find that incredibly attractive. Unfortunately, he isn’t able to enjoy it. Now that he’s aware of the pain in his leg, it only seems to get worse. His leg throbs; it feels like his bones are trying to bully their way out of his flesh. He clenches his eyes shut as he wills the wildfire that burns through his limb to calm down.  “‘M fine,” he gets out through a clenched jaw. Tommy squints at him, tilting his head to the side. “Evan,” he repeats in a way that Buck knows means he doesn’t believe him for a second.

(or Buck wakes up with a chronic pain flare-up the morning after, and Tommy takes care of him)

Be My Valentine? Or Something? Buddie | 5.8K | G

What to write? Should he be cliche? Ask him to be his Valentine? Or should it be more personal, more intimate? Agh, this was harder than he thought. His sister would tell him to ‘speak from the heart’, whatever that means, so he picks up the pen and writes: Eddie, Your smile makes my heart beat a little faster, and your eyes remind me of big cow eyes, but in like a good way. Love, EB P.S your hair is very floofy, pleaseee don’t cut it <3 There, he thinks, Eddie will know it was him without embarrassing anyone. Perfect. (Spoiler alert: Eddie does not know it was from him)

(Or a High School Valentine's Day AU featuring our favourite boys being dorks and falling in love)

Because You're Exhausting 10K | M | Please read tags and warnings in the notes

Because every day after he woke up still in pain, and he couldn’t even tell his own family (because what if I can’t be a firefighter anymore? what if they don’t let me?). And then he’s hugging Eddie and they’re welcoming him home and maybe, just maybe, for a second he believes that it won’t be so bad. Because then he was choking on his own blood staring into Bobby’s eyes thinking this is it, isn’t it? And then he woke up because damn, he always wakes up and somehow that’s always worse. And he wants to laugh at himself because how did he think, even for a moment, that anything would ever be ok? Because then he was on blood thinners and they wouldn’t let him home, and he just wanted to go home (what if I can’t be a firefighter anymore?) Because then the lawsuit happened and he just lost everything all over again. Because “You’re exhausting.”

(Or Buck's always been sad but it's post lawsuit, and Buck just can't handle it anymore)

I'm Not Going Anywhere bucktommy | 1.4K | G

The first time Evan spends the night over, Tommy panics. He panics when he wakes up in the morning, sun seeping through the gaps of the blinds. He expects to wake to a warm body wrapped around his front, Evan drooling onto his chest adorably, the way he was positioned when they went to sleep. Instead, he wakes up cold.

(Or Tommy thinks Evan doesn't want to stick around, Evan proves him wrong.)

you don't need to ask, i'll come running Buddie | 1.6K | G

Buck never thought he’d be afraid of thunder and lightning, he thought being scared was for kids and dogs startled by the loud noise. He didn’t think he could possibly be scared of a little rain. And he’s not. He’s not. Buck is not scared of thunder or lightning— okay maybe he can admit he’s a little bit scared of lightning. But Buck should definitely not be scared when he is sitting at home in the safety of his bed whilst the rain hammers down outside. He should not jump every time the sky crackles and lights up his loft. He shouldn’t be scared, but, quite frankly, he is.

(Or post-lightning strike Buck is at home during a storm, Chris thinks Buck needs a hug and Eddie thinks maybe a kiss or two, too.)

Darling, you look perfect bucktommy | 2.6K | G

Tommy just hums in agreement, continuing to sway their bodies. They let the gentle melody of the music fill the house, dancing together softly, simply content to stay close to each other, letting their bodies speak. They breathe each other in, Buck indulging in the warmth of Tommy wrapped around him as he’s guided gracefully along with the music. Tommy pulls back slightly, stepping to the side before raising his hand that’s holding Buck’s and spinning him. A short laugh escapes Buck’s mouth when he returns in front of Tommy who just smiles at him so brightly.

(Or Buck wakes up at Tommy's the morning after the wedding, Tommy cooks breakfast, and then they dance in the living room (aka it's really soft and fluffy))

[sulphuric-onyx]

Just saw @slyvester101's water park au post, and a, that's fucking brilliant, I love it, and b, seeing the love of the silly au ideas for the skittle soldiers reminded me of a zoo keeper au idea I had a little while ago, so here's that.

The idea mainly focused on Wash and Tucker, because what else do I write about, so I'll talk about them and what they're jobs are as keepers first. (also not all of the reds and blues are here, so feel free to come up with where you think they'd be)

-Tucker is their resident "Shit nobody wants to go anywhere near guy", primarily working with the big cats, and the few snakes they have there. He lives for working up the crowds during any feeding times or exhibitions, and has gained a bit of a reputation for it, turning into a slight attraction for the park.

-Wash sticks to the calmer side of the park, or at least as calm as it can get where they all work, usually found in Avery whistling back to the birds, or in their marine enclosures. However, he's one of the most researched at the park, and gets called in as a pseudo announcer for a lot of the parks shows, mainly Tucker's, which is where the real attraction for the crowd lies.

Wash makes little comments and jokes at Tucker during his shows, i.e "this strategy your seeing here is similar to Tucker's own mating efforts, which is to say ineffective," and other things along those lines, and Tucker usually flirts at him in response over their mics to get a rise out of him, which is really what the park goers come to see.

-Kai works at all of the interactive enclosures, mainly the small petting zoo area, and the tortoise exhibit where park goers can feed them and pat their shelves if the tortoises decide to come closer enough. Usually Tucker's not far behind her either, visiting her to gossip and bitch between shows.

-Carolina works in the antarctic section, polar bears, emperor penguins, a few specific kinds of seals, etc, her and Wash end up working together on a few enclosures so they spend a lot of time together, and as much as they claim not to, they gossip just as much as everyone else.

-Grif works at the sloth and lizard enclosures, and he will be damned if he has to be anywhere else, which has nothing to do with the fact that it's right next to where Simmons works at the monkey and orangutan enclosures, and Simmons loves talking to people about how intelligent they are to anyone who will listen, which is usually Grif.

-the squad leaders are frequent park goers, who are kind of hoping for a job there at some point, which all of the current crew claim to hate the idea of, but they've been subtly mentoring all of them with the skills and things they'll need to know to get hired.

-Kimball is the one managing this whole god forsaken place, don't ask about her, she's got enough going on as it is.

[tearueful]

HEY tell me about your boys oc

You've twisted my arm, LMAO.

Time to dump my brain. My The Boys OC is PURE SELF INDULGENCE because she's basically an alt version of Tea but what if The Boys? So you know, a cringe almost self-insert OC that evolved into her own thing in my brain. She 300% only exists to smooch Homelander but as of today and runaway story ideas, MAYBE NOT.

I've got this whole vague outline of a story in my head I've taken notes on and written a few lines and drabbles for, but she'll most likely just stick in my brain cause OC x canon isn't well received and I don't have the free time to RP her with friends like I'd like.

ANYWAY - This is LONG. So LONG.

Her name is Stray, which is super not original to anyone who knows my online aliases or the fact that the first version of my vtube character was named Stray but I like short aliases and Stray is as good a name as any for a cat-based Supe.

Her supe power is that she can shapeshift into any feline. House cat, tiger, leopard, and even prehistoric cats because I want her to lay on Homelander as a polar bear sized saber. THE VISUALS.

Like Doppelganger, Stray fluidly shifts between forms in mere moments but unlike Doppelganger, these forms are all Stray. She can't transform into a visual copy of say, your pet cat.

Like Beast Boy, her animal forms are coded to her colors. She's a calico cat (surprise, surprise) if she's a house cat. A golden tabby coated tiger if she's a tiger. Basically all coat colors try to mimic orange, brown, white to some degree. If she's a lioness, it's a richer orangy hue instead of tawny.

I'd have to pin down the exact colors and make a coat pattern chart, but basically every coat is a little off on what the default is for wild cats. Enough to make you go, 'hmm that seems odd' more than seeing a big cat in a weird spot would. The other thing that's constant is her eye color, same green eyes in all forms. So her hair color / skin color reflect her cat coat patterns and her eye color is consistent, basically.

The main perk is that her supe power scales with form. She's a house cat? Well- That house cat could theoretically blast herself through your skull like Jamie the hamster and come out fine on the other side. This scales, so you get a jaguar biting you it's no longer a 1,500 PSI bite but idfk, biting through steel beams. The bigger Stray is, the more durable and the more damage she can do. Get her big enough and she could bite through Homelander's limbs. :D

The downsides are:

Stray is a perfectly normal, squishy person when not in a feline form. Very fragile, don't let near other Supes when she's a person.

She can't stay in feline form forever. Like Doppelganger, it hurts if she keeps a form for too long but she's been trained (forced) to endure it. After 24 hours, she starts to become debilitated from the pain but can push on depending on desperation level. Regardless, she'll be pretty useless quick.

Stray can be locked out of shifting or locked in a form with a metal band around her neck/wrist/ankle. Say, iron does it because uh- It's the most stable element or something which blocks Stray's atoms from doing whatever the fuck they do to reform her into various kitty cats. Having a power lock is fun for situations.

The backstory is that around the same time of Homelander's debut, Stan Edgar wanted to have a contingency plan. I don't know the exact timeline, but I assume Victoria Neuman was adopted by Edgar around that time as his backup plan for Homelander. Stray was picked up for the same reason, except she was more a creature to get locked away and trained to hate Homelander.

Her SUPER TRAGIC backstory is that she had a normal life, save for being a supe, until she turned 18. Then Vought snatched her up with the excuse of that binding Supe Contract, so her family was none the wiser that through daughter was shipped off to a lab. Meanwhile, Stray was fed some story that her family DIED HORRIBLY because of Homelander with her hatred of him encouraged subtly. Enough to make a bitch pissy, but not rampage through the lab. (That or they kept a bitch collared a lot)

Stan Edgar gets thrown in jail and Stray gets lost in the shuffle, forgotten for the most part until her file is dug up or The Boys are tipped off about something strange over in a SUPER SECRET LAB that Butcher is apparently good at finding, given how he found The Woods in Gen V.

The Boys get a new pet cat as they assume Stray is a suped up animal, since they find her collared and unable to shift. I get to write a few cute drabbles of Stray being tormented as people coo over her as a kitty cat until someone takes her collar off. Then the idiot is hell bent on revenge, which suits Butcher just fine.

She infiltrates Vought Tower by being picked up as a stray cat (haha) by Ryan Butcher. Cue Homelander having beef with a cat who keeps stealing his son's attention. Also, that cat keeps looking at him weird. More excuses to write cute fluff with Ryan getting a pet he can cuddle but can't kill. She chills in Vought Tower with Ryan, getting rather attached to the boy because he is SUCH A SWEETIE PIE.

Stray goes to chomp Homelander's head off eventually, hunting him down like prey and wrecking his shit because I just want to write Homelander being afraid. There's something fun about having Homelander hunted by a bigger predator, something primordial and feral. c:

Ryan intervenes before Stray eats Homelander and she pisses off for a bit. Also, probably dealing with a Compound V high given how much V must be in Homelander's blood.

Something something, Homelander researches the bitch who almost ate him. Figures out her weakness and there's probably MORE DRAMA with them fucking with each other. I haven't banged out the details but these lil shits will be toxic as fuck, but since Stray is a strong supe he'll want her for his supe army. Homelander even shows Stray that her family is alive and she's all, "Well fuck. Uh, my bad bro?"

Ultimately, Stray will waver between hating Vought for what they did, having some loyalty to members of The Boys for their kindness, but loyalty to Homelander and Ryan for similar. She's not a good person so she could go for the DESTROY VOUGHT or SUPE SUPERIORITY side on a coin flip.

She's just a character I want to put in situations within The Boys universe. (Sexual situations)

I want tiger!Stray sprawled out on the floor while Ryan uses her as a living lounge chair as he does his homework.

Bickering between Homelander and Stray. Stray being a VERY FUCKING ANNOYING CAT at Homelander before he knows she's a supe.

Therapy cat for Kimiko. 🥺

Butcher being a jerk and dubbing her 'Moggy'.

Stray leaving bite and claw mark scars on Homelander. c:

[smaller-comfort]

Aephorul/B'st/Resh'an (Modern AU) Resh'an always gets what he wants, one way or another; Aephorul might as well accept that fact, and learn to enjoy it.

It's the fucking-on-the-kitchen-table one. Whew. I'm on a roll lately; I'm aiming for at least 1 more finished story by the end of the week.

Some general notes under the cut about how I imagine they all look in this universe, but most of these details aren't that important.

B'st:

My general image of human B'st is like...a cross between Sam from Scavenger's Reign and certain incarnations of Cable from Marvel comics. Beard is optional. (I can't decide, honestly. I think he probably *should* have a beard, but I haven't written it into anything yet and I'm genuinely too lazy to go back in and add it.)

Used to do competitive bodybuilding in his younger years (he's in his early 60s now); still works out, but does more strength training/crossfit kind of stuff, and not body sculpting. Has lots of padding over his muscles; he's just big, in every dimension. 6'4" or thereabouts.

Well groomed; keeps his hair/beard neat, always looks put together. Is entirely aware of how well his ass fills out a pair of jeans. Is also aware of how good he looks in leather, but he's been out of that scene for a long time.

He's a silver fox if a silver fox were a bear. (A polar bear? I'm pretty sure that's a thing.) Whether or not he has a beard, he's got a lot of body hair.

He drives a 20 year old Subaru hatchback that looks comically small next to him.

Resh'an:

About 5'10" and kind of squishy; he occasionally laments the fact that he's not as thin as he was in college, but Aephorul loves that he actually has an ass now. Has never willingly set foot inside of a gym in his life, and thinks it's cute that B'st and Aephorul can talk about weightlifting together.

(gotta start somewhere Resh'an weighs like 125lbs soaking wet. Runs on adderall and anxiety, and he picks up a nicotine habit during grad school, which doesn't help. Once he's better medicated, his metabolism slows down to something more human, and less hummingbird.)

Starting to go gray at his temples, which Aephorul also finds incredibly hot. Likes to lean into the mousy professor thing because it throws people off when they discover he's a trollfaced pervert.

Dark auburn hair, medium brown eyes, passes for white most of time. (Haven't quite decided what real-world analogue area his family is from. Middle east/central/west Asian somewhere, probably mixed race.)

Shaves/waxes most of his body hair because he only had to get his pubes caught in the locking mechanism on a chastity cage once before learning his lesson.

Aephorul:

He was 6', but lost half an inch or so after the accident. He's still obsessive about going to the gym, but he doesn't have the muscle mass he had in his 20s, which frustrates him a lot.

Struggles with body dysmorphia post-accident. Tends to walk with a slight limp- he has a cane he's supposed to use, but never does. His shoulders/hips are slightly crooked, which he thinks is a lot more noticeable than it actually is. Doesn't like anyone other than Resh'an seeing him naked; can't always handle Resh'an looking at him all the time, either.

His hair went white when he was a kid after a bad illness, and he's still extremely vain about it. (He is terrified of losing his hair.) Black eyes, and a darker base complexion than Resh'an; his family is from southwest Asia.

Keeps his bush trimmed but not shaved; his body hair is fairly dark. Used to shave his legs when he was younger and did drag, but doesn't anymore. (There's a non-zero amount of Gender Stuff going on with him that I don't really want to get into, but some of it might come up in later stories.)

[stilldancewithyou]

What are your thoughts on the carnival scene both in the book and the show? Was Conrad really interested in the girl from the ring toss or do you think his sole purpose was winning Belly Junior Mint?

There is this weird dynamic between them where they kind of assume that the other knows how they feel because they do have a great understanding between them but that's where the problems arise because they put too much weight on the silent understanding between them & forget to communicate their actual feelings. I think he thought she fully understood the significance of the original Junior Mint moment (and she clearly DID kind of get it bc she held onto Junior Mint all this time and the bear was really important to her, and everybody knows/recognizes how much she loves Junior Mint, although it's heavily implied at least to me that no one else actually knows how she got him or what he REALLY means).

My book girlies know this, but it comes to light in Conrad's letters that not only does he vividly remember the day he won her the bear, but he also spent $40 (at like 14 years old!!!) trying to win her the bear because he paid attention to her all summer and saw that she badly wanted it and had been eyeing it all summer (he actually says "remember how you used to go over to the ring toss and just stare at the polar bears?"). I think he got confused when Belly got all standoffish about it but also didn't know what to do about his feelings at that point in time (which is why he said that the girl said Junior Mint was the best prize they had. it was easier & less vulnerable than saying "I think I might have romantic feelings for you too and I just spent hours trying to win this for you because I know how much you wanted it and I wanted you to spend time with you") so he didn't try to explain it to Belly & ended up hanging out with ring toss girl that summer as a distraction in a way. But then the present scene...he wanted to remind her of that memory and he wanted her to know he remembered it and that it mattered to him & he wanted her to know he still thinks about her and loves her and wants her back. And Belly is in the mindset she was in in the 2nd book where she still loves him but doesn't want to & is tempted to go back to him but feels like she has to prove a point to herself and everyone else that she is over him and doesn't need him. I also think she spent so long being in love with him with everyone knowing & teasing her about it and it made her feel like it was the child like and immature thing to be with him, so she wants to show that she has "outgrown" him, and she's not a dumb 13 year old kid with a crush anymore.

I think Conrad probably did think the ring toss girl was cute, he was a 14 year old boy so you can't really fault him for being a little interested in her and hanging out with her, and also Belly got upset and he probably didn't understand that he had inadvertently hurt her feelings. He wanted to win her the bear he knew she had been wanting and make her happy, and it backfired (Which probably fed his anxiety and feelings of not being worthy and always fucking up and disappointing people but especially Belly). I think that moment would have been different if Belly had stayed there while he was trying to win her the bear- she made an assumption to start out and ran away without ever actually knowing what really happened (kind of like the prom moment). I think the fact that Conrad still remembered and thought about winning her Junior Mint even 8-9 years later kind of says it all. And the way he boops Junior Mint in the show in season 1...that man knows it was never about the ring toss girl.

Also it just occurred to me that maybe he had spent time noticing the ring toss girl because he had already spent a lot of time noticing Belly go to the ring toss and staring at the polar bears and also maybe he had already spent time trying to win Belly the bear during that summer. ok I'm gonna go cry because that makes it SO MUCH SWEETER.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #18

18. SAN MARINO Megara - "11:11" 33rd place

Decade Ranking: 66/153 [Above Aiko, below Hooverphonic]

Soy "Otra Gente".

Yes, ~Megara & Aiko~ back-to-back as a tribute to the blossoming new relationship. (how cute that these are the two LAST EVER entrants for both of those countries ♥). Star-crossed pansexuals forever tethered side-by-side in this ranked afterlife. THIS is how you do serendipitous running orders, Christer, fucking take notes. (Another fragment of my neurodivergent soul destoyed when he decided to put Megara 10th in the r/o and make 11:11 the 12th overall song to be performed that night).

But Aiko and Megara also represent the duality of modern day NQs. While Aiko delivered a good vocal, glammed-up to a 7.5/10 and still died (lol though luck fighting those bookmakers, girl), Kenzie delivered an ABSOLUTELY ROTTEN VOCAL, downgraded to a 7.5/10 and logically died because it's San Fucking Marino. 😍

Like, idk how to break it to you, but for once, San Marino actually earned the Ironic Standom label. Let's start with the fact that they're repped by my fave act from last year's Benifest with a song about how unfairly robbed "Arcadia" was. ♥

M E

P E L A

M E P E L A

Y si tú no me quieres otra gente me quierian

This year's line-up was so up my alley even the fanfiction was fucking me-coded.

And a fanfic it fucking was because in order to rep Scam Marino, Megara had to beat the following at Una Voce:

Jalisse, Italy's 97's reps (and erstwhile BubbleFaves) who TVSM found in a dusty retirement home somewhere in Italy, recruited as a Big Name, and who reportedly stormed out of the venue as soon as they were eliminated by the jury. (😍)

David Bowie's former flame Dana Gillespie, who sang an AI-written composition about climate change called "The last polar bear" (sample lyrics:" I'm just a polar bear trying to survive :old:" // "Is there someone out there who has mercy on a polar bear?" :old:) (and they HAD to admit this in the final because Una Voce's main sponsor was the company that wrote the AI script which composed the song lmfaooo ♥)

Nusa Derenda's son, who was part of a three-himbot boyband and was absolutely HORRIBLE (the other two did ALL of the lifting ♥), only for them to be completely omited from the first recap of the night (WILL THE BULLYING OF SLOVENIA EVER END?!)

Loredana Bertè, Mia Martini's estranged blue-haired sister who crossed over from San Remo for the sole purpose of terrorizing her ex-husband Björn Borg, and performed in her usual style: dressed as a schoolgirl (she's over 70 btw), hands in her pockets, fully disassociated, sounding like she was halfway through her fourth bottle of Disaronno.

How is ANY of this a waking reality?! Megara beating Loredana last-minute was the icing on the cake because while the notion of Pazza is funny enough (it rhymes "artifice" with "toothpaste" <3), Megara at least had... a concept? an Idea? A song?

And then we got to the contest itself. The preview comes in and has THE EXACT SAME IMPACT ON ME as Bambie's did in the first semi - STOP ALL THE PRESSES, I WANT TO SEE THIS IN FULL IDGAF ABOUT ANY OF THE OTHERS OR MY PERSONAL HEALTH AND RESPONSIBLIITIES!!!! you know, the usual hinged eurofan stuff.

When we finally got to the full live omg ♥ A fantastic act completely PULVERIZED into death by Kenzie's inability to perform ♥ From actually WALKING OFF THE SCREEN

to having her own small Emily Roberts moment in the second chorus

Shittastic. it worked because, thankfully, the song WAS fodder to begin with (no losses there) and the staging -conceptually at least- was visionary. This is probably the best San Marino have ever staged.

The delectable Dias De Muertos flamengo break ♥

the haphazard trigger happy hazbin hotel fuschia fiesta freakshow aesthetics ♥

the silly overlays that actually WORKED BETTER THAN LUX'S ♥

THE DEMON RABBIT INTO DEMON CORPSES DANCERS ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

This (metaphorical) shit was masterfully staged and Kenzy still served LOOKS AND ENERGY despite failing at everything else.

If you're going to be hopeless, then be hilariously bad at giving hope, is what I say.

11:11 was pure chaos on a black-and-pink demon barber pole, which for experimental art rock serving as a middle finger to Spain's lack of taste, is a pretty good medium of expression. The way Megara were guaranteed double digit points because the Mericones (this year's honorary name for Cigarillos/Spanish Fags btw..x) were casting votes in this semi (♥) allowed them to give zero fucks. ♥

Of course, if Megara (and specifically Kenzie) had been in any way competent, then 11:11 could have qualified with that act, and that would have been ICONIC. But they weren't and we missed out on another SF2 epic turnaround, which is probably why I'm not ranking them amongst the very good entries this year. (also, if I did I'd be compelled to rank 'em 11th and LOL @ bumping Aiko up to 12th place). I'm accepting of 11:11's shortcomings, but also acknowledge that it has them. The quality standards were surprisingly high this year, and I enjoy the remaining entries sufficiently that I don't need to cling to Megara as hard as I normally would. Fun filler it is, and that's the perfect endpoint for San Marino's journey.

THE RANKING

[thewolvesof1998]

Created by @mostlyinthemorning

Day 12 pt. 2

Okay, so I thought I would do something special for the last day, here is a list of all of my favourite fics from all of my mutuals (I've read like 95% of these and others are highly anticipated!) I'm going to have to do this in two parts!

The Powder Room Plotby tinygiantsam @watchyourbuck 

“Let me eat you out,” Eddie whispered, his voice dark. He gripped Buck's sides harder, rocking his hips up. Buck whimpered, inhaling sharply. The force made him bend over the sink, pushing himself farther against Eddie’s cock. “Eddie,” he said, warningly. “Please, Buck, let me eat you out,” he insisted, smelling the back of his head with his eyes closed. “No one’ll notice.”

Cow Eyes by theotherlucifer @theotherbuckley 

Buck gets the call on a Saturday. He’s sat at the kitchen table, delving into some strange corner of the internet where he’s apparently discovered that seahorses hold each others' tails when they swim and that cows have best friends and that Eddie’s big brown gorgeous eyes remind him of cow eyes and maybe if they were cows then they’d still be best friends— And then he gets the call. His phone starts ringing just as he’s learning about polar bears giving each other nose boops. He reaches out and grabs the phone off the counter, still so lost in his deep dive that he doesn’t even check the number that’s calling. “Hello?” “Is this Evan Buckley?” A professional-sounding woman answers. It’s then that Buck promptly forgets whatever facts he just learnt and instead feels a familiar ache creeping its way into his chest. “That’s, uh— that’s me,” he manages to get out. “You’re listed as Eddie Diaz’ emergency contact, is that right?” (Or the 'Eddie's in hospital and Buck tries not to break down' fic except its actually just a cute silly little fic)

[Music Embedded] Burning Bright by Mangacat, with (wilfriede0815) @mangacat201

"The 118" is a secret tip still in the punk rock scene, but their manager Bobby Nash is determined to give them their Big Break soon. Right now, they're playing gigs wherever they can get them and working on a first album - with Buck trying to overcome songwriting insecurities, Eddie there to help, Chim and Ravi eager to enable and Hen despairing at the task of corralling that whole chaos clowncar by herself. Meanwhile, Christopher is working to outfox them all (in the name of love, of course).

right in front of your eyesby rainbow_nerds @rainbow-nerdss

He and Chris, and Buck. They work, they’re a unit. Why should it matter that he’s single? Buck is watching him, like he’s reading every thought on his face. “You’re already planning to lie about the date. Why don’t you just tell her you met someone yourself?” Eddie shrugs and tilts his head to the side, squinting in thought. “She won’t set me up on dates if she thinks I’ve got someone,” he muses. “But she’ll want to meet whoever it is.” “So... Introduce them?” Or: Buck offers to fake-date Eddie so Pepa will stop setting him up on dates.

I got a bed but I’d rather be in ours tonight by LongConvolutedSimiles @nmcggg 

He’s close, he can’t believe he’s close already, from rubbing up against the mattress like a teenager having a wet dream. He could say it’s because he hasn’t done this in so long, spending night after night with Eddie by his side means he hasn’t had much privacy. But really he’s close because everything is just so overwhelmingly Eddie that it feels like he’s here, it feels like he’s watching him. “Buck?” Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck. - Or Buck and Eddie have been sharing a bed for a couple of months now, but when Eddie is away on a date Buck decides to let off some steam. Eddie comes home early.

You don't know how much love it cost me to say goodbye by Feru_08 @pirrusstuff 

It's día de muertos and Evan Buckley prepares to see Eddie once again

i'll keep you alive if you show me the way by rosebuddiekin @giddyupbuck

“I know you’re there. I believe in you.” Eddie knows he isn’t just talking to Buck anymore. He doesn’t care, though, not enough to stop himself from crying out to any higher power that might be out there. “I want to believe.” It’s the truth. Eddie wants to believe, because Buck does. “Just, not Buck. Okay?” He can feel the tears starting, but he can’t be bothered to let go of Buck’s hand to clear them. Or: Eddie pleads with the Universe to save Buck after the lightning strike.

i'll lie awake for you by diazbegins @evanbegins

Eddie’s brings his hand back up to squeeze Buck’s jaw affectionately, thumb prodding at the corner of his mouth with a glint of mischief and arousal in his eyes, “I think we already got pretty messy last night.” “Well, that was ‘cause we got married a week ago,” Buck makes up that excuse and kisses Eddie all sloppy, biting his pouty bottom lip and putting a bit more of his weight forward to try and get Eddie on his back. Eddie doesn’t let him, turning his head so their lips connect more comfortably on each kiss. “We had plenty of messy mornings at Big Bear,” Eddie says when they break away before surging back forward, a warm pit in his stomach getting more and more evident the longer they keep on kissing so sweetly. Buck rolls his eyes but lets a noise escape him when Eddie gives a sharp nip to his lip, big hand squeezing the meat of his thigh before resting on his hip with a firm grip, “We need messy mornings when we aren’t on a honeymoon.” Or: Buck and Eddie, newly-weds, spend their well-deserved time alone. (AKA buddie fucking for about 7.9k words)

I'm not afraid to change your name ('cause I'm crazy about you) by smilingbuckley @smilingbuckley

5 times Buck gets called by his new last name + 1 time he has another name change -- "Hmm," Eddie nuzzles his nose against Buck’s cheek, "God, I love you." Buck, whose eyes had closed at the feeling of Eddie being cute with him, opens his eyes. They turn wide. They hadn't said that yet. Not after they started dating. Before, sure, but they had been just best friends. "You do?" Buck asks, voice soft. Eddie takes a step back and turns Buck around so he can look at him, then he cups Buck’s face. "I am so hopelessly, painfully, endlessly in love with you, Evan Nash." Buck’s cheeks redden more, "I love you too."

pumpkin patch kinda love by browney3dgirl6 @hoodie-buck

“How much longer dad?” “I’m sure they’re almost ready. Why don’t you hang out with your friends until it’s time?” Christopher frowned. “Can you go ask dad, please?” Eddie would rather do anything else, thanks. But, when your kid was your world, and his big puppy dog eyes were looking up to you, well—he was only human. Eddie gave Chris’ shoulder a squeeze before looking around, spotting what looked to be a teacher. Well, they had a clipboard in their hands at least. Walking toward the teacher like person, Eddie stopped as he got closer, clearing his throat. “Um, excuse me, are you one of the teachers?” The teacher turned around to face him, Eddie suddenly a little short on words. “Oh yea, hi. I uh, I’m Mr. Buck.” Of course he was. —or— During the halloween season, Eddie is introduced to Christophers teacher, the one with pretty blue eyes that he just can’t seem to stop running into

you're where i stand, hearing the sea by Maira @carrierofthepaperclips 

What could Eddie possibly say? Sorry I accidentally kissed you, my body followed my heart without my permission? Sorry that our first kiss was so absentminded, when it should’ve been filled with everything I have yet to find the words for? Sorry that I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, I can’t remember a time when I haven’t had to fight the urge, and I clearly lost that fight a minute ago? ... or the one with the accidental kiss.

Play me like a fiddle by JamesPearce911 @jamespearce9-1-1

Eddie plays the French Horn for the Los Angeles Philharmonic and is told about the wonderful new cello soloist playing with them for this concert. He sounds like a pretentious asshole and Eddie vows not to like him. In walks Evan Buckley, cellist from New York and soloist for this concert. Eddie quickly realises he's in trouble as the man immediately casts a spell on him, turning Eddie into a blushing mess. Can he put aside his feelings for Buck long enough to remain a professional and get through this week without making any poor decisions? (Spoiler Alert: he cannot)

Buck's Coma vs. Real World Checklist by marcato @jeeyuns

Buck: When I wake up, and I mean like every single time, I have this checklist now that I run in my head, like a way to test that I'm really here. Maddie: So, what do you check?

Out Of Order, Still In Line by callmenewbie @callmenewbie

“Alright. So, how do you wanna do this?” “I don't know, I didn't think that far.” Buck closed his eyes for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts, which was a task harder than he expected. “I guess, just… talk to me.” “About what?” Oh, god. Fuck. Okay. They were in it now, so he might as well just… “Tell me what to do.” Buck half-expected Eddie to quip ‘you don't know how to jerk off?’ but instead there was a moment of pause, then: “Okay.” Or When Buck finally gets to the Clinic, the long awaited release doesn’t seem to come; cue Eddie to the rescue.

Say It All Out Loud by spacebabe17 @thosetwofirefighters 

For a moment, he feels guilty about worrying—this is Tia Pepa, his favorite aunt, the one person who has always been on his side—but then he remembers what his parents—his father—had said when he’d tried having this conversation with them at nineteen. He knows Pepa and trusts her so much, but he’d trusted his parents too. or After his "date" with Vanessa, Eddie comes out to his aunt.

past the curses and cries (there's me and you) by MonsterRae1 @monsterrae1

“Welcome to Buckley’s magical apothecary,” The words died down on his throat as soon as he looked at who had walked through the doors. Eddie, Hen and Chim were walking towards the front desk; Hen and Chim were a couple of steps behind Eddie, staring at him with a worried expression, while Eddie looked completely tranquil, as he held on to a bracelet. On a surface level, Eddie looked like he did any other day, far too handsome in his uniform, with a small smile on his lips, and a teasing gleam on his eyes. But that wasn’t all, because all around him, Buck could see the lines of a curse taking hold of him. “What happened, what did you do?” Buck said instead of his usual greeting, walking to meet Eddie in the hallway, bumping his hip into his desk in the process, rattling the instruments he had left there. “What’s the curse?” Eddie rolled his eyes at him and said, “There isn’t one!” As Chim answered, “The bracelet is sending people to the hospital, near death experiences all of them” Or, Buck's a witch, Eddie's cursed, can I make it any more obvious?

Kiss Me Before it's Over (If Only for a Minute) by Bob_loblaws_lawblog @buddierights 

Evan Buckley is living out his childhood dream as the star hitter for the Philadelphia Phillies. He’s climbing the ranks, improving his stats with every single game – he’s unstoppable. That is, until the Los Angeles Angels get a new pitcher seemingly out of nowhere. Known for his strong arm and tricky curve balls, Eddie Diaz is one of the few pitchers in the nation who consistently makes Buck strike out, and its infuriating. Even from the sixty feet that separate them between the batter’s box and the pitcher’s mound, the weight of Diaz’s gaze is enough to make Buck’s blood boil. Because Buck doesn’t get nervous on game day, he never feels calmer than when he steps up to the plate with the bat in his hand – it’s where he belongs. But when he sees Eddie Diaz standing on that mound, his stomach flips and nerves spark across his skin. Because if there is one thing Buck knows for sure, it is that he hates Eddie Diaz. … Until he doesn’t.

tagging: @hippolotamus @exhuastedpigeon @steadfastsaturnsrings @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @buddierights @jamespearce9-1-1

[trynabeanengine]

HELLO FELLOW DOOMED ENGINEERING MAJORS AND OTHERS! WELCOME TO THE STUDY ROOM!

I am your DEBILITATED host, Kashi, and if you have found this post,

CONGRATULATIONS!

I'm gunna waste a bit of your time!

First, silly pleasantries:

HI!

You can call me Kashi, Acorn, or any other nickname you can think up! (As long as you aren't trying to be an asshole ;p)

She/Any; I'm cool with any pronouns, but if you care about my gender less than I do and don't wanna have to think, then my default is she/her!

I AM QUEER! (A queer? On Tumblr? You don't say) Specifically: LESBIAN!

Been on this plane of existence for 19 years (I'm 19. If that was unclear)

I am, in fact: Canadian (insert polar bear joke here, idk)

Now, to my fellow aspiring engineers:

Are you regretting your choices yet?

Are you realising people weren't lying when they said this would be hard?

Are you starting to think crying at your desk every day as you struggle to understand complex numbers isn't REALLY worth it?

WELL, ME TOO!

THAT'S WHY WE'RE HERE!

(I'm joking... mostly)

NOW, WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE, you may ask!

idk...

I just wanted somewhere to yell about university and hopefully connect with people honestly. O-O

BUT, THATS JUST ME! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?

The answer is: WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT (do TRY to keep in university/school themed tho.)

You can:

Send me asks about courses!

Send me stories from YOUR schools!

Tag me in your school related rants!

Make friends!

Have fun!

And lose your mind a little!

I GUARANTEE NOTHING BUT VOID SCREAMING AND NOTES THAT ARE SO DERANGED YOU THINK A CAVEMAN WROTE THEM!

If that sounds like your cup of tea, then

COME ON IN!

[butch-reidentified]

“ask the average reader to guess whether a male or female wrote this based on the fact that the author used coarse language I bet they’ll tell you male 😏” this is what you sound like. that person clearly wasn’t even saying that women with body hair are disgusting, they were likening themselves to them, and condemning holding yourself and others to pedophilic beauty standards and you have to be reading it in the worst faith possible to have any other takeaway

yeahhh you're making shit up lmfao

post being referenced:

I never said he said women with body hair are disgusting. I never thought he said that; he was clearly trying to say that we're all just gross animals. If other people claimed he said that, talk to them. HOWEVER. he said "u are a nasty little slug too and having a vachina does not absolve u of that." I take issue with this specifically because radfems take a very "humans are just animals like any other" view. We do not believe "having a vagina" makes us superior or cleaner or less animalistic or whatever the fuck he was trying to say with that weird ass sentence.

my saying that any rando on the street would more than likely read that and assume it was written by a male is not about "coarse language" (this literally made me laugh out loud, so ty). have you looked at my blog?? it doesn't get much more "coarse language" than my writing 💀 you can say "this is what you sound like" all day, but you made that up completely while dozens if not hundreds of women knew exactly what I was referring to. Not that I actually believe that you were confused what I meant by that, but to be clear, his post reads as male because it reeks of porn-induced brainrot. "breedable 12 year old anime girls floating in a glass jar of formaldehyde waiting for some old man to come and fuck them and tell them they are so teeeeeeeeny tiny and worth it" specifically is simply not a turn of phrase (or even abstractified image) that would ever enter my mind in a million years, nor that of any woman I know. I've never seen a woman say something quite that far porn-rotted. not that it's never happened at all, but I've never seen it and I would bet my life it's exceptionally uncommon.

Everything within that image he painted is the polar opposite of how radfems see women/what radfems want for women. "Holding yourself and others to pedophilic beauty standards" - you mean the exact ones radfems speak out against relentlessly every single day??? Search my blog for terms like "female body hair," "shaving," "beauty myth," and the like, and tell me how on earth you came to the conclusion that I think women should shave or tweeze or laser or whatever a SINGLE hair even once in their entire lives. I don't shave my legs, which were wildly god-tier hairy BEFORE even I was on T. I don't shave my bush, I don't shave my armpits, I don't shave my mustache or the chin hairs cross-sex hormones gave me.

Radfeminism is opposed to every single thing that has to do with the gender construct. We absolutely do not have any requirements or expectations or criteria for womanhood beyond simply being a human + female. Like I said about viewing humans like any other animals, radfems see "woman = female human" the same way one means "doe = female deer." Woman is not a gender; it's a term referring simply to species (human) and to sex (female). That's it. No further expectations or criteria apply.

Before you try to argue that this definition excludes women who are infertile or intersex, let me be very clear about sex:

> "of or denoting the sex that can bear offspring or produce eggs"

"the sex that CAN" is crucial to defining female/male. the female body has biologically, genetically, and physiologically developed from before birth to support the POTENTIAL capability of producing large gametes (eggs aka ova). It is totally irrelevant if one has a medical complication that prevents her from actually producing those gametes; which gametes your body has clearly developed structurally and functionally to produce is what defines your sex, no matter what.

The fact that this is how we view "woman" and "man," as simply referencing one's sex and humanity - this is why we maintain that trans-identified males are men. Again, we don't see "man" as a gender in the slightest. We don't engage with the gender construct at all beyond our desire to dismantle it entirely so that everyone would be able to live free from those roles/stereotypes/expectations that are assigned on the basis of sex.

This makes it a ridiculous thing to assert that we have to "go so far to prove that trans women are actually men...." We do not feel that it requires any effort at all to say "a drake is a male duck, a buck is a male doe, a man is a male human." It CERTAINLY does not in ANY capacity require us to "reduce women" to that horrific sentence, or to "reduce women" at all. Is it "reducing" a doe to state that she is a female deer?

It also makes it ridiculous to insist radfems "dehumanize" women by using this definition - the definition which includes "human" as a non-negotiable criterion.

About the first of his two-part post pictured above, last but far from least: There will NEVER come a day when women - ESPECIALLY lesbians & ESPECIALLY extremely gnc lesbians - calling out misogynistic males for their behavior counts as "punching down." No matter how he identifies, how he dresses, where he works, what his talents are, what he likes/dislikes, his sexual orientation, or anything else, women (and again, lesbian women especially) do not hold institutional/systemic power over men.

as for the 10 foot pole part, I really couldn't care less what he meant or why, tbqh, because the supremely creepy pedophilic rant that made up the first part was the thing we all truly took issue with in that screenshot.

and let's not forget, this all started bc he called an ND woman the r slur for her critique asserting that he was appropriating a type of religious trauma specific to the sex-based oppression of women/girls, and profiting from doing so. personally, as a human female with a history of such religious trauma, while this has been resolved for approximately 7 years in my case, I still vehemently object to any male claiming it as his own for profit. especially if said profit is hoarded rather than given back to victims of such trauma.

NOTE: this answer was written while I'm barely staying conscious. I will come back to edit/clean up a bit later after getting some rest 😴

[skaruresonic]

So I seen some people justify Shadow retracing the same development he had in his game and Battle in Shadow Gens with the excuse "well it's just to reiterate to newer people who don't know him about his character and reintroduce the character to a new generation" what do you think of that?

Didn't know older Sonic games had expiration dates. By that logic, nobody has any real reason to play Sonic 1, Sonic 2, S3&K, CD, Adventure, Adventure 2, Heroes, '06, Unleashed, or Colors again when Gens is right there.

...So they're okay with new fans getting the Diet Coke version of Shadow's arc? I thought we were all about ~raising our standards~ in this Chili's.

They're acting like nothing of value happened in either Battle or ShTH, which is a riot considering Battle is the only game we have to prove that "Shadow is not a weapon of war." Likewise, ShTH stressed "Shadow is not defined by his blood and determines his own destiny."

I'm certain a game whose mechanics hinge on Shadow manipulating his genetics Parasite Eve-style will more than suffice to emphasize those two points. Cue Iizuka saying "Shadow doesn't need a weapon because he is the weapon."

SxS Gens can protest "b-but Shadow is more than his blood" all it wants, but it's like, if that really doesn't matter, why the fuck do you keep bringing it up, then?

"Don't think about the polar bear; the polar bear doesn't exist. Polar bear, polar bear, polar bear. Why are you thinking about the polar bear?"

"Shadow's genetics don't matter. We think it matters so little, in fact, that we made gameplay mechanics hinge on it.

"Shadow's past doesn't define him, but here, have an entire-ass game that acts like rehashing his past for the millionth time just moved one inch to the left is the only way he can have depth of character.

"Omg why are you all writing 'Shadow was tortured on the ARK' fics? Who could have possibly foreseen this shocking development?"

Sounds like an excuse not to play previous games to me. And at this point I don't really have patience for it considering you don't even need to play Battle. Everything you need to know about the game can be gleaned from watching it on YouTube or, failing that, reading the script. But I suppose if Sega doesn't re-release it, it might as well not exist. :v