#but let me know if I need to add more tags

[ak4e7a]

sweet sugar venom — PSH (teaser)

street racer!sunghoon x street racer! reader

"pick me up and take me like a vitamin, 'cause my body's sweet like sugar venom, hell yeah..."

"so alive, i could die, give me some sweet venom..."

cw: i honestly don’t know. mentions of cheating, violence, somewhat illegal street racing. there’s no dark content lol that’s all i’ll say otherwise i might spoil something

smut cw: daddy kink, brat tamer!hoon, brat!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, spitting, choking, dacryphilia, heavy aftercare <3 ... more tbd

thank you to @karinasbaby for the sexy ass banner ... stella ILYSM my baby doll for life

taglist: open! request to be tagged so you know when i finally drop this 😋

preview under the cut, let's get this show on the road.

“Hey, Y/N! Nice wrap,” Riki says, waving his long arms at you like he’s drowning. The tall, newly-turned 21-year-old bounds towards you before tackling you in a hug that sends you almost crashing into the ground, your hands flying to tug the hem of your skirt down lest your protective younger brother scold you about not dressing for the weather. It’s a cold spring night, as proven by Riki who’s in a loose, knitted navy blue sweater and destroyed light wash jeans.

“Jeez, Riki, I just saw you yesterday, no need to suffocate me,” you grumble affectionately, reaching up to muss his black-and-silver hair before sitting back down on the hood of your car. You’ve been fond of the boy since Jungwon brought him over one day, his first new friend since losing his best friend (and yours, honestly) in a betrayal that still hurts to speak of to this day. Riki clings onto you like you’re his older sister, too, and you reckon it probably has something to do with missing his own sister back home. “You saw me finish the wrap on the car, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, but it looks good even at night! Very professional. Maybe you can wrap the GTR next?” he says, to which you side-eye him, and he adds, “I can pay you.”

“You can pay for my meals every time we go out to eat for the next three months and I’ll call it even.”

He laughs. “Okay, deal. You eat less than Jungwon hyung, anyways.”

“Why are you talking shit about me to my sister again, freak?” your younger brother demands, making his way up to the small crowd that’s starting to form around you, Riki, and Jaeyun. He looks taller today, you think to yourself, and when he comes into full view, you see that he’s riding on the back of an unfamiliar person, a tall man with a sharp jawline and a pretty nose, whose bangs droop over his eyes. He’s wearing a white tank top and jeans, with a black and blue leather racing jacket covering his torso from the chilly Seoul air.

“Well, did I fucking lie?” Riki snaps back, arms crossed. You hide your laugh in the crook of your arm, eyes locking with the man who’s got your brother draped over his broad shoulders like a backpack. He looks at you intensely, in a way that makes you feel like he’s got x-ray vision or something. What’s his deal?

“Whatever, cricket legs.” Jungwon jumps off the man’s back, shaking his hair out of his eyes. You notice that he’s yet again stolen one of your oversized hoodies. “Oh, hyung! This is my sister, by the way. Noona, this is Sunghoon hyung. He’s joining Enigma.”

He’s cute, pretty, even, and you like that. You’ve always preferred pretty boys. And up until about five seconds ago, you would have said that—even though your ex-boyfriend is a cheating bastard who deserves nothing but suffering—he was still the prettiest man you’ve come across.

But this one, this one in front of you right now, this one takes the cake. He’s got full, thick brows that frame dark almond eyes, and his cheekbones flow into his jawline in a way that makes you think his face has probably stopped traffic at least once in his life. Before you stare at him for way too long, you reach into your purse and pull out one of your mango-flavored Hi-Chews (from your personal stash) to give him. “Hi, Sunghoon. Nice to meet you. Welcome to Enigma.”

He repeats his own version of your greeting a bit too curtly for your liking, but you don’t care either way, he’ll be under your thumb in no time, just like everyone else, just the way you like. Rolling the wrapped cube in his hand, he asks, “What’s this for?”

To which you reply, “Oh, nothing. I just like candy.”

“I feel like ‘like’ is an understatement,” Riki snorts, sticking his hand in your purse for something he can snack on. You sigh and hand him your purse for him to rummage around more freely.

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at that, but turns to you anyways. “Do you race, too? I don’t want to assume or anything.”

You give him a coy smile, translucent bubblegum-pink-manicured fingernails clicking against the hood of your car as you drum your fingers against it. “Yeah, sometimes. I’m banned from racing right now, though, until the end of the season at least.”

He cocks his head like a curious puppy, blinking slowly at you. Oh, no. He’s cute and probably doesn’t know it, but he’s definitely dressed like he knows he’s hot. “Why’s that?”

Your smile turns into a smug smirk as you answer, “Because I go too fast.”

“Fourth-gen Supra,” he muses, glancing between your bare legs at the titanium Toyota emblem on the hood that you’d had imported from Japan. For some reason, you have to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together. “Cute.”

“Oh? And what’s your ride?”

“Beamer M8 Comp,” Sunghoon says, an air of nonchalance about the answer like it’s nothing special. It kind of pisses you off.

[peggyao3]

Preyd

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader / can be read as OC

Summary: Feyd calls his pet to his chambers for a monthly feast.

Word count: 2,259

Tags: 18+, smut, graphic depiction of violence, she/her reader, AFAB reader, dubious consent, ambiguous relationship status, oral (f receiving), period oral, blood play, knife “play”, blood kink, BITING, pain kink, vaginal sex, period sex, violence, sadomasochism, attempted murder, aftercare-ish (love that tag right after attempted murder)

[Reposted from my Ao3] 💕

Masterlist: Doesn't exist yet, gotta repost everything bit by bit

Cool air streams into Feyd’s chamber when the door opens at his command. The servants who bring the struggling woman don't need to knock. The increasing volume of her irate pleading out on the hallway has been caressing his ears for the past minute. He regards it as foreplay.

The woman's toes scrape over the stone tiles as she is delivered to him like a meal, but without a platter because a good meal is best devoured on the floor, with dirty teeth and fingers. She is shoved into the room by rough hands which hastily retreat, bending and bowing to the Na-Baron who sits with his hands on his knees, a black smile already forming on his alabaster skull.

She stands on shaky legs, clutching the robes that still cloak her frame. Warm wetness already runs down her inner thigh. Red, not black.

“You left me waiting.”

“I can't exactly control when I start,” she snaps. The irate edge to her tone doesn't fool him. “My Lord,” she adds in a much more timid voice, head lowered so the hood of her cloak hides her trembling lips.

“I expected you two days ago.”

“Tssk. Forgive me.” Feyd's head tilts to the side and he stands up, striding over to the cloaked woman.

“You know I could keep you in a prison cell instead?” The calm control of his voice is a farce. In truth he is quaking with excitement, yearning to get under her skin.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“So, be a little more grateful.”

The Harkonnen heir's hand shoots forward and grasps her chin. He yanks her head up. The ferocious tug makes her hood fall off, revealing a head full of hair and glossy eyes that never stopped smoldering with a sliver of reckless defiance. 

Feyd squeezes her chin, squishing delicate flesh against easy to break bones. His fingers leave bruises as he slides his black tongue over her mouth, along the side of her nose, into the apple of her eye until she winces and forces the black appendage out by shutting her lids. His tongue wriggles through her lashes instead, wetting them with saliva that clings to the fine hair like inky tears.

Ruthlessly, he shoves her backwards with a force that could snap a neck. She stumbles and falls, landing hard on the bed. Feyd-Rautha leaps after her like she's a felled enemy in the ring and he is one stab away from victory. Strong hands half push up her robes, their warmth a stark contrast to their snow white hue, devoid of color like they are devoid or mercy.

She tries to push at his chest to hoist him off, but he catches her foot and bites her toe until she lets out a shrill scream. The robes fall over her bent thighs and pool around her hips. She is bare underneath, except for the blood that glistens on her center.

Inky eyes light up with nauseating joy as he admires the crimson landscape between her thighs. His outlandish pet is so colorful and full of life… Pale hands wrap around her thighs to part them. Her muscles flex, as if she could ever stop him from taking what he wants.

“Let me eat. I've been starving.”

“You are sickening.”

Feyd-Rautha's mouth descends between the woman's forcefully spread thighs and his tongue hotly slips through her folds, parting them effectively to get to the source of her heady lifeblood. She shivers, spine arching despite the revulsion she feels for him. Her fingers dig into the sheets - white, to mark the occasion. They will be stained red all over by the time her period is over.

Stubbornly, she stares at the ceiling, though in the long run her gaze can’t resist the twitching silhouette of pale, lithe muscles that shape Feyd’s shoulders and back. He produces sounds like a sloppy eater, like a panting beast whose teeth are tearing through a carcass, except that her flesh is lively and, unlike the carcass, highly receptive to both pleasure and pain.

She knows this is only the beginning. The easy part. When Feyd’s dark eyes lift to monitor her expression, she knows what he is about to do, yet he catches her by surprise. His teeth close around her clit and nip, forcing a squeak out of her mouth and a hand to shoot down and push against his skull.

Feyd feels virtually invigorated and laps at the swollen bud like a salivating dog until her body spasms and her nails dig into his scalp. Each clench of her walls offers him more sanguine fluid to drink.

His tongue returns to her slit while he stares at her disheveled face, eyes like black, bottomless pits, insatiable. She knows nothing she can give will ever be enough.

One might think a wet tongue on a bleeding center would make the area in question cleaner, but Feyd somehow makes a mess like a child with no table manners, smearing blood over her thighs and venus mound. It is almost like slaughtering his outlandish pet, but without the commitment. It makes his cock hard.

-

The treatment continues until the sheets are drenched in sweat and blood, until the woman’s thighs quake violently in the na-Baron’s wicked hold. She feels lightheaded and every touch to her overstimulated center burns almost like a whiplash. 

Feyd however is far from being done. He relishes how her flesh feels now that it’s hot and swollen and covered in bite marks all around her cunt. He is unable to tell if the blood that spills comes from her center or the searing wounds he’s caused with his voracious teeth.

Nails dig into his skull, leaving marks that bleed. A thin rivulet of black runs down his brow bone and seamlessly disappears in the corner of his eye. He only grins, bites harder where many old scars already adorn her flesh. His cock strains against the fabric of his trousers and his pelvis grinds against the mattress, dry-humping it, spurred by the taste of blood like a beast by the scent of pheromones. 

“Stop!” She pleads. “You greedy monster, stop stop stop!” But he doesn't listen.

He pretends not to see the way her hand slips into the pocket of her robe, producing a blade of shiny silver that finds a new home in Feyd-Rautha’s neck. Sweet pain radiates through his flesh and a moan comes out of his blood-smeared mouth.

His pet snarls and strains, fighting against the hand around her wrist that had stopped the lethal attack at the last second. The knife’s tip trembles in the na-Baron’s throat but then her fingers go slack, acknowledging defeat. Feyd takes hold of the blade and gingerly pulls it free, exhaling a soft moan.

Fascinated, he regards the black blood that decorates the tip of the blade. Rapt as he is, he has finally stopped assaulting her center with his greedy mouth. He is almost proud of her for the attempt, even if it was a pitiful one. His neck throbs where the blade had kissed his jugular.

“I didn’t mean to, I swear!” The pitiful would-be assassin hiccups, tears slipping down her temples. She clutches her robes to her heaving chest as if that could protect her fragile life.

“I should split your tongue.” Feyd-Rautha rises to his knees between her parted legs. Blood and slick have left a sanguine pattern on his face. Pensively, he twists the blade in the air so it catches the light. “Or maybe you should split mine? So I can make twice the mess of your cunt.”

“You are insane.”

“You brought the tool.” He laughs and offers the blade to her mouth. Panicky, she shakes her head, twisting it away and into the sheets with squinted eyes. “I want you to lick it. Taste my blood, pet.”

She refuses until he nudges the tip between her lips, drawing a droplet of blood. Quickly, she surrenders, opening her mouth like he wants though her brows remain pinched with fear. Feyd languidly slides the flat side of the blade over her pink tongue, sullying it with black.

“Swallow. And tell me how it tastes.”

She swallows, cringes and hesitates. “P-Potent, my Lord.”

Feyd-Rautha laughs and his free hand drops to his pelvis, unfastening the black fabric that has kept his manhood covered. Panic rises to her eyes, bigger panic than when she had feared she might die by his knife.

“Wait, n-no!”  He has never done this to her before.

“You’ve impressed me.”

The fabric is pushed down to his mid thighs. She has always feared his length and girth would be daunting, but the sight before her is as monstrous as the monster he is in flesh and in spirit. He lowers himself, hand wrapped around his shaft to nudge the thick head to her swollen entrance.

She raises her feet and plants them against his abdomen, pressing against adamantine flesh with all her strength but she doesn’t stand a chance. Feyd watches all hope go out in her eyes as her feet slip to the side and her knees fall against her cloaked chest.

A cage of white, wiry flesh leans over her. She smells her own heady blood on his face and cringes. It almost distracts her from the velvety flesh that presses against her cunt, still sopping wet with her own slick and blood and the na-Baron’s black saliva.

He breaches her, stretching her obscenely as inch after inch carves into her cunt. Black teeth are parted for a near-maniac grin as his virile length is massaged by snug, bloody walls.

She winces, shifting her hips to accommodate to the intrusion. It actually hurts less because he hasn’t marked her from the inside yet, so she is almost grateful for it. This way the sore marks on her inner thighs can rest.

Feyd shoves the final half of his cock inside with the force of a gut punch, knocking the air out her lungs with a pathetic yelp. He rolls his hips, grinning, getting comfortable inside her body. After only a few moments, he is comfortable enough and slams his pelvis down, grinding into her with short, hard thrusts that batter her cervix. Blood squelches wetly with every move.

She pushes at his chest but avoids his face, knowing her fingers would only end up between his teeth, bitten and bruised. A ferocious slam of Feyd’s hips makes her howl like a wolf. Reflexively, her hands shoot up to his pale throat, squashing his Adam’s apple under her palms. One fingernail digs into the wound on the side. A strangulated moan escapes the man’s throat, hips stuttering, lids fluttering.

The hand that isn’t busy supporting his weight offers the knife to her. “A second chance,” he rasps, eyes alight with madness. A thread of black drool dribbles off his lower lip and lands on her chin.

Shuddering, she accepts the offered weapon, holding it with a weak grip. Her worn-out body struggles to muster the strength, but she brings her arms around Feyd’s back, a wicked embrace. Aimlessly, the tip of the blade scrapes over his muscles as she tries to find two ribs between which to slot it.

“Higher. Or you’ll never hit the heart.”

“Why don’t you kill yourself then, if you’re so keen on it!” Furiously, she lashes out, but the blade only slips off a rib, leaving only a shallow cut on wiry flesh. Still, it stings beautifully and a small groan escapes him.

“A third chance, because I’m so generous.”

“Now you’re j-just being greedy.” She grits her teeth, tears wobbling on her waterline. His cock makes her sore from the inside and his hip bones dig into the marks on her inner thighs.

“I’m not greedy. I get everything I want. Again!”

A merciless thrust makes her cry out and it’s not very hard to lift the blade again and slam it down. This time, it finds its target, slipping beautifully between two ribs. The Harkonnen-heir roars out, black spittle spraying over her face as his features scrunch up and his hips slam down and stutter, nearly knocking her unconscious with his force.

Her hand weakly slips off the blade handle. She already knows she has missed any vital organs, or he would have stopped her.

His seed paints her cervix and even as his length begins to soften, it still feels like too much.

She doesn’t cum around his cock, but that’s alright. After half a dozen on his tongue, her body has nothing left to give except weak tremors and tears of relief when he finally pulls out. Black seed oozes out of her, mixing with red. She buries her face in her hands and rolls on her side, curling up. Fatigue makes her dizzy. The servants are going to have to carry her back to her chambers, she fears. Her shaky legs are incapacitated.

The wet sound of the knife being slipped out of his flesh nearly makes her retch, but even for that her body is too weak.

In awe, Feyd swipes black blood off the blade. The bed dips when he sits next to his astonishing pet. A throaty hum is all it takes to convince her to crawl into his lap, still curled up and shivering. He brings his bloodied fingers to her face, stroking it softly as she presses against his body for warmth.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she mumbles, on the brink of passing out. “Next time I’ll kill you better.”

[If you had fun reading this, consider leaving a comment! ❤️ It would make me very happy!]

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Uriel's subtle revenge

Past =-= Next

Author's note: y'all inspired me to make a Uriel Ventris chapter with the Serf Reader. I hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: A bit of Bully Cato, let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog @bleedingichorhearts @kit-williams @barn-anon @c-u-c-koo-4-40k

Tagged: @i-am-a-dragon34 @egrets-not-regrets , @gra93fruit-blog

‘Sometimes,’ Uriel Thinks to himself as he carefully tracks down one particular Serf that comes from his planet of birth from a farming community near where he'd grown up, “I think Captain Sicarius believes His own hype a little too much.’

While the Captain of the Second company is an exceptional fighter with few who could match him in sword, bolter, and tactics. His personality was something that rubbed others the wrong way, like stroking a cat's fur the wrong way far too roughly.

He spots the Serf dutifully tending to their tasks, their hair pinned up and out of the way as they diligently clean the room. They look up and around, feeling eyes on them. They look into his eyes briefly before they look down and properly Bow to him, pausing their work.

“Greetings, Lord Angel,” They say with very care pronunciation.

Uriel remembers when he had Pasinius were young Aspirants and they’d been with a whole barracks full of boys within the acceptable age range from every planet within Ultramar and the teasing and mockery he and his oldest friend had gotten for their ‘hick planet accent’.

Your particular version of their shared accent is really adorable in his opinion. Even when you are trying to hide it, which is a shame in his opinion.

“Greetings Serf,” he says, allowing his Calthian accent to come through.

Their head shot up and they stared at him wide eyed for a moment. Recognizing their shared accent.

“I hear you come from a place near where I used to live,” Uriel continued. “Have the grox-cheeses in the deep caves aged into the wine-dark musk that I remember?”

“Yes, and the festival of cheese wheels happened a few months before I left, Lord Angel,” you reply, your accent thickening back to what it was before you'd come aboard the space ship.

You knew that The Angels of Ultramar are from all over the planets under the protective Custody of the Imperial Regent. But you hadn't realized that one of the farm boys of Calth had actually managed to become an Angel, from what you can read of his Armor, he's a Captain, which is somewhat high ranking. Although at least as far as you can tell, it is.

Uriel and you talk about the various festivals and celebrations that their towns share, to mark the seasons and other important Holidays and events that are celebrated either for local planetary things, or for more important Imperium wide events.

Uriel is regaling you about one of the times he had done the Space Cooper's-hill cheese rolling and wake, one Of the few that he'd participated in before becoming an Aspirant.

You had started to smile and giggle as Uriel was describing something when a voice called out, haughty, And annoyed, “tch, must you speak in such a low way Ventris?”

Uriel's smile only faded somewhat, but his eyes sharpen at the way that you were slightly edging away from the sharp, sour tones of Captain Sicarius.

Uriel allowed himself to glance towards the older Ultramarine, noticing the way he was fuming and scowling at the pair of them.

Uriel stopped himself from smirking a little bit as he realized just how Annoyed the noble-blooded Ultramarine was.

“Ah, Lassie,” Uriel drawls, thickening his accent further, glancing down at you with an innocuous smile,“th’ Cap is fair steam'd.”

“Speak. Properly,” Cato hisses at his annoying younger brother. “You are the Fourth Captain of the Ultramarines.”

Cato clenches his fists and relaxes them a couple of times. He had been going in this direction for a purpose, but what that way flew out of his head when he had heard and seen Uriel speaking with you.

And realizing one of the things is that had bugged him about you. That deeply annoyed him, throne-Cursed Ventris is also from Calth. And the little snot likes to use that accent, which no one but him and his fellow country Bumpkins can understand.

He is ignoring the fact that part of the reason he's so angry is that Ventris got you to smile and giggle at him. He should go to an Apothecary because one of his hearts had started hurting A little to see you look at a different Space Marine like that. Then the bizarre hurt turned into welcome and familiar rage.

“If you aren't doing anything important,” Cato barks at the pair of Calthians,”stop blocking the hallways and get back to work.”

You started to curl in on yourself As a hot flush of shame has your cheeks turning red. You had continued to work, albeit At a slower pace as you spoke and listened to Captain Sicarius's word.

“I think you need to dislodge your sword from your scrotum,” Ventris snarks at Cato.

Cato feels a vein start to throb in his forehead at the younger Captain’s Words." You and I need to go to the sparring ring. Now.”

“Gladly,” Uriel says, giving you a nod before following after an angrily stomping Cato.

He was glad he was able to speak with you for a little while. There aren't many fellow Calthians that go off planet.

[clarionglass]

gang,,,,, gang. i am honestly still reeling from The game changer account reblogging the comic,,,, my god. my god.

for newcomers: welcome! thank you for being here!! for those who may have only seen the part of the fic linked to the comic, this is part 6 in the series (because truly i cannot stop myself). all the other parts are linked in the lil game master cinematic universe blurb i've got down the bottom of the post, and the whole thing is now on ao3!

and speaking of my lil blurby thing, if anyone else wants to play around in the game master cinematic universe, tag me so i don't miss it and i'll add whatever you make to the list!! and if you just want to chat about the crossover, hit me up! truly i am so happy to have as many people playing in this sandbox as want to be here :D

but anyway, without further ado:

a selection of correspondence (game master cinematic universe, part 6) | read on ao3

From: Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) To: Group <Dropout cast and crew> Subject: Announcements and info

Hi all,

Just a quick announcement that we have a new member of the team joining us at Dropout! Some of you have met him already, although you may not have realised it—he worked on A Game Most Changed and Escape the Greenroom in season 5, and Bingo, Deja Vu, Beat the Buzzer and Sam Says 4 in season 6, doing some of the hosting in my place.

And before you ask how that can be, this man is my exact doppelganger! He’s a time traveling alien who, for the moment, we are calling Other Sam, because we’ve agreed that the name he’s chosen is not exactly appropriate in a workplace setting. He’s here on a kind of rehabilitation program, as shows like Game Changer provide the sort of enrichment that he needs, without him having to resort to things like planetary conquest and murder. We also have him to thank for our new studio—he has kindly allowed us to use his (currently grounded) spacetime machine to record in, seeing as he did blow up our original studio. On an operational basis, nothing should have changed with the studio, but I do recommend you don’t go poking around in cupboards, just in case.

I promise on everything dear to me that this is not a joke.

I hope you’ll all make Other Sam feel welcome! So there’s minimal confusion between the two of us, he and I will be taking care to differentiate ourselves (he says he will try and look, in his words, “more evil”, although I’ll admit I’m not quite sure how that will work).

Series leads and producers, if you would like to include Other Sam in one of your shows, please let me know. He’s a lot of fun to work with, and he’s promised us his best behaviour, so I can guarantee there will be none of the aforementioned planetary conquest and murder. Of course, the wellbeing of all Dropout cast and crew is my highest priority, so if any of you are not comfortable working with him, please let me know as well, and production and I will ensure you are not cast in the same episodes. In future seasons of Game Changer, we will be sharing the hosting duties, so if you’re on an episode, it’ll be made clear which of us you’ll be working with.

On a related note, you know I hate being the bearer of bad news about mandatory seminars, but there is a training seminar next Monday on psychic defence techniques. This seminar is a requirement if you’re going to be working with him, and even if you’re not planning on that, I’d strongly advise coming along anyway.

As always, if you’ve got any questions, don’t hesitate to get in touch!

Cheers, Sam

---

[Note: many responses with the general sentiment of “what the fuck?!” have not been included in the selection of return correspondence.]

---

From: Brennan Lee Mulligan (@gmail.com) To: Sam Reich (@droput.tv) Subject: Re: Announcements and info

I need this man in the dome immediately. 

---

From: Siobhan Thompson (@gmail.com) To: Sam Reich (@droput.tv) Subject: Re: Announcements and info

Hi Sam,

Many thanks for your email, and for letting us know about Other Sam. You don’t need to confirm or deny this, but I’m assuming he did something to us during the Deja Vu recording. I haven’t felt entirely comfortable around you since then, and until now I haven’t been able to find a logical reason why. You mentioned psychic defence techniques in your email, so I take it that there was some kind of mental fuckery involved—perhaps a memory wipe? 

I don’t know what he did, and I’m not sure I want to know, but whatever it is, I don’t think it’s good. I would very much appreciate it if I don’t have to work with him.

Best wishes, Siobhan

---

From: Grant O’Brien (@gmail.com) To: Sam Reich (@droput.tv) Subject: Re: Announcements and info

Hey Sam,

I’m already digging up info for a Breaking News segment. There’s someone on reddit called scarfytwin who says they might be able to give us some good info, but I might need to sign a few things first? Looks like it’s tangled up in some British government stuff, which is wild. Sounds juicy, whatever it is, and I reckon it would be good payback…

Best, Grant

---

From: Lou Wilson (@gmail.com) To: Sam Reich (@droput.tv) Subject: Re: Announcements and info

Man, are you telling me that Samuel Dalton was kind of a real fucking thing?? No way. If you let me punch him *hard* one time I’ll go on any show with him.

Cheers, Lou

---

From: Brian David Gilbert (@gmail.com) To: Sam Reich (@droput.tv) Subject: Re: Announcements and info

Hi Sam,

This explains a lot about the weird feelings I’ve been having since Deja Vu! I know something terrible probably happened during that recording, but I’d love to just sit down with Other Sam and have a chat. Do you recommend we just meet in a professional context, or would that be something you’re able to organize?

Thanks, Brian

---

From: Zac Oyama (@gmail.com) To: Sam Reich (@droput.tv) Subject: Re: Announcements and info

Cool.

---

From: Ally Beardsley (@gmail.com) To: Sam Reich (@droput.tv) Subject: Re: Announcements and info

Absolute freak behavior and i love this for you, sign me up for anything!

---

From: Mike Trapp (@gmail.com) To: Sam Reich (@droput.tv) Subject: Re: Announcements and info

Hi Sam,

Huh, that sure explains some things. This will probably be cool in future, but for right now, I think I need to do a bit of processing. I’ll let you know!

Cheers, Trapp

---

From: Vic Michaelis (@gmail.com) To: Sam Reich (@droput.tv) Subject: Re: Announcements and info

Hi Sam,

Intriguing! If you think he’d be up for the prosthetics, I’d love to have either of you on Very Important People next season. Both of you together would be even better!

Vic

---

From: Lily Du (@gmail.com) To: Sam Reich (@droput.tv) Subject: Re: Announcements and info

Hey Sam,

I’ve had a chat to Grant, and I would love to put this guy on Dirty Laundry. Grant says he’ll share what he finds out from the reddit person with me, and we might be able to make a good episode happen.

Cheers, Lily

---

From: Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) To: Other Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) Subject: Fwd: Announcements and info

Well, most people seem to have taken it well! Looks like we’ll be having some fun…

---

From: Other Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) To: Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) Subject: Re: Fwd: Announcements and info

“Not exactly appropriate in a workplace setting”?

---

From: Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) To: Other Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) Subject: Re: Re: Fwd: Announcements and info

We discussed this. You agreed.

---

From: Other Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) To: Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) Subject: Re: Re: Re: Fwd: Announcements and info

I most certainly did not. I said “hm”. “Hm” does not count as agreement.

---

From: Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) To: Other Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Fwd: Announcements and info

You do know this is a group of people who I can guarantee, on hearing the word “Master”, would react the exact same way Grant did?

---

From: Other Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) To: Sam Reich (@dropout.tv) Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Fwd: Announcements and info

Fine. “Other Sam” it is.

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x escape the death beam: x

by @bloopdydooooo drawing collection: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): x part four (you think you know someone): x part five (point and counterpoint): x part six (a selection of correspondence): you are here!

[dira333]

Behind the scenes of a Tumblr Writer - Tag Game

Hey there, I love behind the scenes and since this is something that's rarely talked about, let me start the chain... if you feel uncomfortable with a question, just skip it. You can add some if you want as well.

Started writing: I wrote my first Harry Potter fanfic at age 10. Started posting around 15,16 years old. I'm now 31, so...

Started blogging: I started on a German fanfiction site around 2010/11 I think. Might have been earlier too, but back then I was mostly reading, no posting. I really started when I got into One Direction (very late, tbh)

Followers: Currently at 961, which is wild to me. I don't even know that many people IRL. I convince myself that half of them are bots tbh, so I don't freak out all the time.

Communication: The people I talk to regularly are: a few writers who answered after I constantly reblogged and commented on their works and a few people who commented and reblogged my work. Writing and blogging on here can be pretty lonely, depending on your personality and the time you're active (I'm from Europe and a lot of my followers seem to be living in Northern America, so there's the Timezone thing) ... And I found that the best way to strike a conversation is to reblog, comment, and to not be shy. I do wish I got more asks, though....

Likes: I actually filter them out. I have 793 original posts up at the moment. It doesn't give me anything to know how many likes a fic has other than to tell me which characters are liked more than others or maybe that one fic does especially well. My activity only shows me comments, asks, reblogs with tags, and answers to my own asks. I live for the tags and the comments.

Requests: I love talking to people about ideas. That's how I started the plotbunny game because I have so many ideas and so little time. And sometimes an idea just doesn't want to be written out fully. Requests are fun because YAY, I get some mail... but then I freak out because I don't really know how to write this NOW and then I freak out because it's been a week already, two weeks, wait, two months? I'd rather have suggestions where people tell me vague things like "I'd love to read something about this side character" or "Have you ever considered this character with a soulmate trope"? because then I don't have the feeling of failing the request when I write it a little bit differently.

Writing: I am a fast writer. I know that's one of my talents. I can churn out a oneshot of 1k words in less than an hour. People read slower than I write. That can suck sometimes because you've just posted this and you want to know what people are thinking but they're not as fast as you are. I do have a lot of ideas. I want to write constantly but my brain doesn't always want to. I am trying to respect that.

There are also certain things that I just feel wrong writing. I cannot write anything suggestive (I also don't like reading it) and everything past that gives me panic attacks. I can hardly write mean characters and jealousy feels so wrong to me that I cannot write it. I've also overdone it with the soulmark trope and now I feel like everything I write about it feels lifeless.

I write best in the mornings before going to work, but I don't have much time there. I don't need special music (but it helps), but I need to have at least some energy left and at best, no distractions. But I have been writing for over 20 years, so I will say experience helps a lot.

Tagging: @revasserium @shoulmate @lemurzsquad @screamin-abt-haikyuu @toomanygoldfish @satorisoup @emmyrosee @reverie-starlight @alienaiver and @writingsofanomnivore and everyone else who wants to join

[lavender-at-heart]

Could you write Bella swan x tall fem vampire reader? I need reader to feed on humans that are criminals and almost always smokin a cigarette

Omg yes gay Bella is the best version of her. THIS FIC IS NOT COMPLETED, I FELT BAD FOR TAKING SO LONG SO HERES A SHORT VERSION, I WILL ADD TO IT SOON WOTH A MUCH LONGER ENDING!!!! if you want to be tagged in the finish product lmk. Also there are themes of sa (think alleyway scene in first movie) and I know that's an uncomfortable subject so I kinda glazed over and left out detail for that part.

Bella Swan let out a huff of boredom as she walked down the dreary street. An attempt to regain her friendship with Jessica ended up with Jess being spooked. Bellas new tastes were too "extreme " for her and now Bella was left alone, outside the movie theater in Port Angeles. A little miffed but not unpleasant to be alone again, she decided to not make waste of the evening out. Unsure of where to go, she headed forward, down the dark path of concrete, narrowly missing a chance ride on a motorcycle. Bella was in a dark place. Mentally, always, but right now her mind led her to enter a particularly dingey alley way. Her heart seemed to pull her towards the dark abyss before her, much like how her heart pulled her towards biology class on her first day at Forks High.

As she neared a turn in the path a sinking feeling began to creep up her spine. A feeling she had not felt since...

There was a man. Smoking, head turned pointedly towards the ground. He stood there like a beacon to Bella.

Something to make him see me

The man looked up, with that familiar look. Sinister comments laced with something sickly sweet, and Bella knew he'd come running. He had to have, surely he would. The man was not shy in his approach, and Bella did her best to stay calm. Every seccond her safety grew thin. Every minute she took one apprehensive step back. Until there were no more steps to take. Just keep it up for a little while longer, she told herself. He'll be here any moment.

But that moment never came. The sinking realization that Bella was alone with this man, and Edward was nowhere to be found made her stomach drop.

Just when she was about to really try to scream and run, the man was shoved to the wall opposite to Bella, the speed of it whooshing in her face. She knew what it was, the who was not certain. Her headt skipped wildly.

He came! After all!

These thoughts were cut short after she quickly realized her saviour was female. Maybe Alice had seen her in danger and come to the rescue. But this was not Alice. Not Alice, not Esme, not Rosalie, not even Victoria.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's impolite to harass pretty girls?"

The metallic tone dripped from the vampires lips, before a crunch was heard. This was no vegetarian, that's for sure. Bella stood, stuck to the wall like flies in a glue trap. Not afraid as she once was, but she knew how crazed normal vampires could be.

Once she was done drinking she turned around with a cool look on her face.

"Thanks" the human girl replied with ample sincerity.

The vampire held a quizzical expression. No fear? No running? No concern or confusion? Seeing this, quiet Bella made an attempt to explain.

"I've been around vampires before"

"Ah" was all the ethereal woman said. The way she said it reminded her of him.

She reached into her old denim jeans and retrieved a cigarette of all things. How odd, Bella thought. She let out a huff of laughter. The flame from the lighter contrasted with cool toned skin, followed by a drag and blow of smoke. The woman looked at her cigarette and spoke again.

"Started as a human, was never able to kick it. Not like it can kill me anyway." She outstretched her hand and offered Bella the cigarette. Bella looked meek and wide eyed. Not wanting to seem "uncool" She took it and gave it a try. She inhaled wrong, she exhaled wrong and then coughed too much. The woman laughed and gave her a pat on the back, red eyes crinkled with amusement.

"you're just a baby aren't ya?"

Bellas face turned beet red. "No I'm not, I just, just never had one before." She stuttered out.

"Breathe in a little, hold, breathe out."

Bella tried to listen to the advice given to her but all she could focus on was the way her voice hit the air. A warm feeling filled her despite the cold weather. A parasitic curiosity filled her. Who was she? Where was she from? How old? Name? Favorite this? Favorite that? Bella wanted to know everything and anything about her, immediately. She knew she would follow this woman to the ends of the earth, and Edward could go fuck himself.

[vesselandmoon]

Riding the Rails

NSFW so please, 18+ for readers on this one. This has nothing to do with the main Sleep Token fic I've been working on, it's just smut for the sake of it I suppose.

I was going to wait until tomorrow but here. For @hookedhobbies thank you for talking me up. Please read the content warnings and tags. If I forgot something, let me know and I'll add it.

CW: blindfold, pegging, praise

When Celie is allowed to be an altar for an offering to Vessel, she gets pulled into a situation she didn't expect.

Celie dropped her bag inside her bedroom door, wondering how the hell any of this happened. One ritual and within a month she was moved in and basically a pet. The guys had been gone but she expected them back. Maybe they were sleeping? She didn’t know what was expected of her but she’d be damned if she walked away after what happened before.

On her bed a white box with a black ribbon caught her attention. On the tag was oddly neat handwriting requesting that if she was interested, she should put the outfit on and open the door at midnight. Weird, it had no name.

Inside was a corset made of soft velvet. Deep crimson with black lace and thin leather strips connecting to a collar. Maybe II? She tilted her head and poked around some more to find sheer stockings, a garter belt, and black heels but the shorts were what caught her attention. Tight, black, and fitted for a toy which she found off to the side.

“Oh,” she said, blush spreading across her cheeks. Whoever it was wanted her to peg him? It wasn’t something she was too familiar with but she’d wanted to experiment more with it. The thing was, who wanted it? For sure it wasn’t III. He would have thrown it to her, gotten her a stool, and told her to get to work.

Celie smirked at the thought but there was still a question of who. With the blindfold that completed the outfit she was sure she wasn’t going to know until she was engaged in the act. Still, it intrigued her.

Twenty minutes to get ready. She quickly washed up, heart pounding as she got into the outfit, checking the clock constantly. Someone was outside the door. Their shadow moved a little here and there with seemingly anxious energy but there was no sound. No voice. He was keeping quiet though a couple minutes to midnight he was pacing.

She took a deep breath and secured the blindfold, swallowing hard against the leather collar. A gentle knock at the door and she opened it, feeling the figure on the other side fall still. She could practically feel his gaze on her and she shifted uncomfortably before he moved past her, the scent of laundry detergent following him.

No help there. All of them used the same damn soap. Celie bit her lip when she felt him so very close but not touching her, the door closing with a soft click. He locked it then took her fingertips in his and led her toward the bed.

“Are you…” she inhaled. “Can I take the blindfold off?”

He touched her lips and guided her head in a slow motion of “no”.

“Even if I guess? Even if I know?” she asked and again he guided her to “no.”

“Will you speak at all?” she asked as she heard fabric sliding off his body.

“Yes.” His reply was barely a whisper and heat flooded through her body.

She knew.

“I… if you want me to stop, I need you to have a safe word. Do you have one or do you want me to make one up?”

“You.”

Celie could feel his hand around the thick cock he’d chosen for their encounter, the tugging gentle and slow. She wished she could see it. Wished she could feel it as her own flesh. All she knew was that he had lowered himself though whether he was sitting at the edge of the bed or was on the floor she couldn’t be sure.

Fingertips grazed the line of her garter straps, sending shivers up her legs. She wanted to touch him. To feel his face, his hair, his body, and yet there was hesitation. Instead she tested the limits, resting her hands on his but she didn’t shy away. He wrapped a hand around the all too realistic cock, stroking it.

“How about honeycomb?” she asked and a faint chuckle met her ears.

“Yes.”

It was Vessel. It had to be.

“I should probably tell you I’m not that experienced with this,” she admitted. He took her hands, pressing his thumbs into her palms to keep the touch minimum but she could hear something wet. Feel hot breath on the thin strip of flesh between the corset and her shorts, feel the slight motion of the dildo. Was he sucking it?

A low moan escaped him and she felt him take more of the cock in his mouth. Her breath caught in her throat. If only she could feel it as her own flesh. The memory of his tongue delving into her, searching out traces of cum left by the others made her ache for him. She imagined what it would be like to feel the back of his throat squeezing as he swallowed.

He helped himself for a time and she wished she could see his mouth stretch wide. Frankly, she wasn’t sure how he’d take the dildo. It was impressive. Close to IV’s girth but a little longer. Not quite as long as III. Then again, if Vessel was involved with either of them (which she assumed he was) then taking this might not be too difficult for him.

A sucking pop and shuffling in front of her signaled that he had moved but it took him a moment to guide her over to the bed. He pressed a bottle to her hand. Lube? She felt around on it, convinced she was right, when the bed creaked slightly.

Tentatively she reached out, patting about in air before finally finding skin. His lower back and ass. He was leaned across the edge of the bed, ready for her. She could feel the muscles in his thigh shifting as she explored a bit of his body.

“I wish I could see you,” Celie said, mouth gone dry as she felt him spread himself open for her.

Lubed fingers were met with a sharp little gasp and Celie squeezed her thighs together. He was so soft. So warm. The tip of her finger pressed against his ass, feeling it clench with anticipation, then relax. She slid the finger deeper, curling it toward his prostate. He arched his back, pushing her deeper still and she let out a breathy chuckle.

Celie’s mind raced with questions. Why her? Why not ask one of the others? Surely a real cock and someone proficient in using it would have made for a more enjoyable evening and yet he’d gone through so much trouble to put together an entire outfit for this. He’d thought about it. Knew what he wanted, even if she didn’t understand why.

Vessel reached around and grabbed the cock, pulling her closer until it was poised to enter him. He was eager and frankly, she was so turned on at the thought of him spread open for her, she was willing to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it.

She slid the head of the dildo across his ass, pressing in every so slightly only to stop and continue rubbing. Teasing. Never letting it enter him, not even the head. He pushed back against her and she pulled away.

“Relax,” she said, gripping his hips to keep him in place. “We have all night, right?”

“Yes,” he replied, tone tinged with impatience, but she felt the tension ease a little from his body.

“Let me enjoy you.” Celie barely pushed the tip of the dildo against him again before leaning over to kiss his back. He stiffened but didn’t tell her to stop so she dragged her nails down his sides, feeling him arch down into the bed, his hips a little higher.

How was her heart pounding so damn hard? She bit her lip, trying to slow her breathing but he was getting impatient as she continued to tease him. Nails and soft kisses, slick wet sounds of lube as she rocked her hips.

“Please,” he muttered and Celie stopped. “Please,” he asked, a little louder.

The desire to hear him beg flared up in her belly but she didn’t know the limit. Not yet.

Celie put a little more lube on her fingers, stroking it along the shaft of the dildo before guiding it with the other hand. She could hear him take a deep breath as she poised to enter him only for it to escape in a soft moan when she finally pushed the tip into him.

Her fingertips stayed in place, feeling the cock sink into him little by little with every leisurely thrust. She tried to concentrate on what he must look like. How he was stretching around the dildo with those sweet little pants and groans escaping his lips.

“You’re taking me so well,” she said, testing his reaction to her praise. In response he pushed back, driving more of the toy into himself and eliciting a surprised giggle from Celie. “You’re so needy. Calm down love, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Love…” he repeated, contemplative, as if he was rolling the word around in his head. Feeling it. Testing it. “You won’t hurt me.”

“I’d still rather take it slow.” Celie pulled almost all the way out, using one hand to keep track of the depth while the other gripped his hip for leverage. “Without being able to see, I can’t tell how deep I am in you. Maybe it would help if I was on top?”

He let out a thoughtful hum but didn’t move besides pushing back against her, taking the cock and rocking her back a little. He wanted it all the way and his frustrated groan told her as much.

“Fuck sake. So damn impatient. Fine but don’t say I didn’t try,” she said, pulling back and slamming into him all the way to her hips.

Vessel let out a sound somewhere between a sharp exhale and a moan, his breath coming in trembling gasps. She took several deep but tentative thrusts before figuring out how far she could pull back and still keep the cock safely inside of him.

She could feel him move, feel him reach around to grab himself but frustration hit her like a truck and she slapped his ass so hard he hissed in pain.

“If you won’t be patient enough for me to fuck you how I want, then you can’t touch yourself until I tell you.” The moment the words left her mouth she doubted if she’d made the right choice. Had she said that to the others they might have laughed at her and done what they wanted anyway but Vessel relented with a quiet “yes” and put his hands behind his back.

Celie let go of his hips and grabbed his wrists instead. She knew his cock was rubbing on the edge of her bed with every thrust and it would have to be his relief for now. Her confidence grew as the sting of her hand ached with every beat of her heart.

“Hm I wish I could feel this,” she breathed, driving hard into him. “I wish I could feel that tight ass squeezing around me. God you take it so well. So fucking well. I bet you’re pretty when you get fucked.”

She half expected him to stop her, to tell her to tone it down or become uncomfortable but instead her coaxing had him trembling, his groans devolving into desperate moans.

“You like when I dirty talk you?” she asked but he didn’t reply. Another swift smack on his ass and he tensed up, a sharp cry escaping his lips. “I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes,” he breathed.

“You’re being so good for me.” Celie changed positions a little, adjusting her angle which had Vessel’s moans become muffled. She leaned forward and traced a hand around his jaw to feel that he was biting a blanket. “No, let it go. I just told you how good you’re being and now you want to act up? Good boy,” she praised as he released the blanket from his clenched jaw.

One hand still around his wrists, though she knew she couldn’t stop him from pulling away if he wanted, she snaked the other hand around to wedge two fingers between his teeth. Saliva pooled in his mouth but his moans were much more apparent, making her eyes roll back. She wanted him so badly it hurt. Her pussy throbbed. Ached. She needed some sort of relief but every thrust against him only did so much.

Soft desperate whines in the back of Vessel’s throat became wet and he almost gurgled, tongue working around her fingers to swallow the saliva she was sure was dripping from his chin. Celie leaned over, resting her forehead on his back, breath hot on his skin. While she was enjoying it, she needed more. Needed those little moans to turn into begging. Pleading. She wanted to hear his pretty voice cry out for her.

Celie straightened, gripping his wrists with both hands again, fingers on her left hand slick with saliva as she began pounding into him mercilessly.

“Ah fuck,” he whined, squirming against her. His breath came out in harsh pants every time she drove hard into him. “S-stop… stop stop stop,” he begged.

And yet there was no safe word. She would bet his fists were twisted into the sheets, eyes rolling back in his head.

“D-don’t move p-please… please stop. Fuck! I c-can’t I can’t.”

Celie smirked and did just that, pulling entirely out of him and stepping back only for her ears to catch a disappointed whimper.

“Was I too rough, love?” she asked. “I’ll stop, it’s fine. You can get cleaned up now.”

“W-what? No, no wait.

Celie made a show of walking away from him.

“Stop, please. I need this.” The quiet desperation in his tone made her smirk mischievously.

She took several slow steps toward him until she could feel his hands on her hips, soft kisses on her wrists but he was trembling.

“What do you need?” she asked, tracing along his jawline.

“You,” he swallowed.

“What do you need from me? Use your words.”

He hesitated. “I need you to… to make me cum. I need it. Please.”

“Lay on your back,” she demanded and he quickly did so. The bed creaked a little under him and she slid on her knees, guided by him until she could grab his ass again. She pushed the back of his thighs until his knees were spread wide and folded closer to his body.

The head of the dildo slipped easily into his well lubed ass and he bucked against her, the sound of his own cock faintly slapping on his belly with the movement.

Celie wrapped a hand around his shaft, rolling her thumb over the tip, feeling precum.

“Look how wet you are for me,” she smirked tasting him from her thumb.

Vessel moaned in response as she gripped the back of his knees and pushed the dildo so deep in him that he grabbed at the straps of the harness.

“So needy,” she purred, putting her weight on his thighs. “You’re taking me all the way and you still want more? I didn’t take you for such a greedy little cock slut, my love.”

“D-don’t,” he whimpered.

“Don’t what? Come on, use your big boy words,” she teased, pulling out only to fuck back into him the second he started to speak, chocking him on his own words.

“I’ll cum,” he admitted once he could breath.

“Isn’t that the point? Don’t you want me to make you cum?”

“Not yet.”

“Oh? You want me to drag it out? Make you suffer? Well, I don’t plan on letting you cum yet anyway but you’re just going to have to deal with the teasing. I like hearing you beg.”

Celie gripped the headboard with one hand, using it as leverage before she kicked off her heels and was finally able to drive into him harder. Fucking him felt so… empowering. The way he writhed and bucked against her. The way he whimpered. She could feel his belly tremble under her free hand, his cock twitching against her wrist with every thrust.

“Come on, make noise for me,” she said but he choked down a moan. “Be a good boy and tell me what you want.”

“H-harder…”

“Do I need a bigger cock for you, love? These needy little whimpers… fuck Vess, I bet you look so pretty right now.” She noticed how desperate her own voice was getting. “God I want to see you stretched open. I want to see you choke on this cock, tears in those gorgeous eyes… fuck you’re cruel.”

“H-how?” he managed to ask through increasingly frustrated thrusts from her.

“You get all the fun. I can’t even see you getting fucked. I can’t feel this thing, I can’t feel you, I can’t… fuck I can’t even get off.”

She expected some kind of reply but all he did was arch his back and moan with an oddly knowing, breathy chuckle. Was this part of his game? To torment her. She’d make him pay for it. Her shorts were soaked through, body aching. Trembling almost as bad as his.

His fingers traced down her lip to grip the collar around her throat and pull her in close. Desperation and anger welled up in her and she slapped his hands away before pounding into him hard, doing to him what she wanted done to her.

“Come on Vess, if nothing else I need you to make noise for me. Tell me what you want.”

“T-touch me.”

“No.”

“Please… please I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Celie gripped his cock and smeared his precum across the head. “Louder.”

“Please!”

His cock throbbed and twitched with every thrust and her thighs were beginning to burn but she kept up the pace. He tried to grab her hand, to force her to grip him harder but she smacked his ass so hard her hand stung and he cried out.

“I bet you clench so fucking hard around my cock when I slap you. What a dirty little tease. Do you want to cum for me? I want you to cum all over that pretty belly.”

“I need it,” he whimpered. “I need to—”

Celie pounded into him and the words melted into a sharp cry.

“Make me cum, please. Don’t stop.”

He was practically clawing at the headboard, and she swore she heard tears in his voice. He was reduced to a high pitched breathy whine,  pleading with desperation.

Celie clenched her jaw and continued to rail him. “Are you going to cum for me? My messy, needy little slut. You sound so pretty. So fucking needy. Beg for it.”

“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” his words came out as a singular string of whimpers as she stroked his cock to the same harsh pace that’s he fucked him until all she could hear was a strangled cry and feel the heat of his cum as he shot rope after hot rope across his belly and chest.

Celie chuckled breathlessly, driving the cock deep into him as she slowly rubbed his cum all over his cock, making his body jerk and twitch.

“I can’t… I can’t breathe,” he said, trying to make her stop as overstimulation wracked his body.

“You said don’t stop. What’s wrong? You don’t like getting the same torture you give?”

“Fuck fuck fuck.” His high-pitched pleas ended abruptly as he ripped her hands away from his cock. He laughed, breathy and weak. “You want to know a secret?”

“What?” she asked, still buried deep inside of him but now caressing his inner thighs as he went limp.

“There was a toy for you in that box,” he chuckled. “You were supposed to have it in during this.”

All the color drained from her face. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” he laughed. “Come here… I suppose I should return the favor. Love.” He flipped her to her back with ease. “So, safe word is still honeycomb?”

[hagenwagen]

For some reason i felt compelled to go a little more risque for this beautiful tgirl tummy tuesday (i'm gonna add a community label, let's see, if i just get nuked anyways xD), because i took these photos and seeing my mini-boobs gave me a bunch of euphoria, even though i have no idea, where they came from, since i'm not on hrt yet...

A bit of pit is included for those, who like :3

(these were actually taken yesterday evening, but shhhhhh, nobody needs to know that ;3)

(also i'm gonna tag a bunch of people i commonly see tagged under ttt posts, because that internet validation makes my brain happy :3 if you want me to remove you/not include you in future posts, please do let me know! Also if you are not tagged and want to be, tell me! :3)

@godless-of-the-hunt @catboybiologist @k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl @slimegirl-selkie @virtualgirlafterdark @xenasaur @xxx-sharki-xxx @glowingemberz @lilithtransrights

[tj-crochets]

It’s the end of the year, so it’s time for a group photo! These are all the plushies I’ve sewn that are still in my house

I’ve been sewing for four years now and it turns out I’ve made a looooot of plushies lol

[otiksimr]

Round two of funky dragons! (1) This time featuring a whole lot more bugs.

[starrysharks]

evilution

[prettyflyshyguy]

Rejoice! Los Illuminados is bestowing upon you its most sacred body.

@cannibal-wings has been providing me excerpts and info about his RE4 remake AU.

It's good.

[royalarchivist]

With over 20 members currently on the QSMP and more on the way, it's almost impossible for a single person to stay up to date on everything that happens, even with help from QSMP's official Twitter recap accounts.

For people who are interested in QSMP's story, characters, and/or streamers but don't have time to watch hundreds of hours worth of VODs, I've created the QSMP VOD Timestamp Archive.

If there's a particular lore moment you missed live and can't find, search for it in the archive!

Timestamps include quotes, notable lore events, and funny interactions. Interesting or important moments from each stream are bolded for emphasis. I'm also adding short summaries for lore-heavy / eventful stream.

I've organized the document so it should be easy to navigate, and you can CTRL + F to search for specific streamers and/or events.

Complete VOD playlists, recaps, and additional resources are also included in the document for people who might be feeling overwhelmed by the amount of QSMP content out there. It's never too late to get into the series!

If you have a streamer you watch consistently, consider writing down important timestamps to help fellow fans! You don’t have to take detailed notes like mine – even one or two timestamps can be a real lifesaver. If you have any helpful timestamps you want added to the list (or even a 1 sentence summary of a particular stream), send it to me via DM so I can add it to the archive.

I am just one person, so unfortunately this archive is by no means comprehensive, but I'm constantly updating things and adding more streams and timestamps to the document. I've been working on this project for a while now, so even though it's not complete, I hope people find it useful!

[ VOD Timestamp Archive ]

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Knight in Shining, Bloody Armor

Past =-= Next

Author note: Titus and Reader

Summary: Titus finds an upset Serf and tries to help.

Warnings: None? Let me know if I need to add anything.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

You are a dutiful soul, working tirelessly to do your duty for the Imperium. Your job isn't glamorous or important in the full scheme of things.

You are, after all, just a Serf, one who serves aboard McCragge's Honnor. You had don't your best to try to stop crying, part of you wondering just what you had done, or was it simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Captain Sicarius is infamous for his horrible temper and brusque demeanor. You try to rub your face clear of tears frustratedly, you thought you had a thick skin in regards to insults and bullying behaviors.

Granted, when in front of people who treat you poorly you can show a brave, or polite face. That was something you prided yourself on. In an Emergency Situation you kept your head cool and calm, and only collapsed and had a panic attack only after the situation was dealt with.

Unless someone else with higher authority and understanding was in charge, then you reacted like a complete moron, unless you were specifically trained not to act like a jibbering idiot.

But then again, humans, base lines at least, still feel that emotion called fear, which can make even the most intelligent of person do something that could be potentially fatally stupid. Like trying to poor water on a cooking oil fire, or something equally understandably dumb.

You heard a voice rumble out, deep and soothing, and filled with compassionate concern, "Hello? Did you need help with anything?"

You turn to look to see who's talking and try to stop crying, rubbing your face clear of tears as you hurriedly bow to the Lueitenant of the Second Company, Titus. "M-my Lord, forgive me for disturbing you."

"It's alright, I am not distrubed," Titus says kindly, "I heard someone crying and wanted to see what was wrong… if you care to tell me that is."

"I thank you for your concern, my lord," You say bowing your head again. Sometimes, while the Angels of Ultramar can be brusque, rude, and demanding. Other times, and other Angels can be much kinder, more caring, and concerned for the mortals below them and in their care. "I was just… overly sensitive."

It was an interesting dicotomy that you'd started to notice, with certain Serfs helping to warn others of the more Tempermental ones, and the supervisors rewarding or punishing those lower ranked under their perview with serving near the kinder or more stern Lord Angels of Ultramar. Lt. Titus of the Second Company is one of the kinder Lord Angels.

"Hm." Titus says quietly eyeing you assessingly.

He'd heard his wonderful little brother and Captain Titus snarling at some poor Serf recently, which was not a good look. Granted, Cato is known for being a gaint bastard, but such things could make resentments start, flare, and fester within the mortals of the crew.

Which was not good for morale and making sure that those who served them did so without bitterness made it so that Chaos had less of a chance to take a hold of those that tend to their needs. Cato, arrogant brat that he could be, doesn't care about that. Or doesn't care to listen to someone who'd been demoted for un-codex-like behavior.

Despite the fact that the hot head could, and has stretched the limits of Codex-complaint behavior that, had he been any less favored, would have him in hot shit, more often with others of their Chapter.

Favoritism, was unfortunately, something that happened sometimes, with certain blood lines getting better treatment than others. While the Ultramarines try to be a meritocracy, sometimes Noble Borns have an easier time of it then those Ultramarines that come from a lower starting station.

The Captain of the Fourth Company Ventris comes to mind and how he's treated versus Cato in regards to stretching the rules of the Codex.

Not that Titus can say anything about that, or even imply as such. Not with the black marks on his records. Wouldn't want to seem… ungrateful for the position that he has, and the fact that he wasn't killed for his brush against Chaos.

He pulls his mind from his thoughts and focuses back on the young serf, who was watching them with wide eyes. They had a lovely form. Soft looking skin, despite the hard work that they must do in order to be a Serf for the Ultramarines. Titus forcefully pulls his thougths away from admiring their form, wondering where that thought had come from.

Since the Serf doesn't seem willing to tell him what had upset them so, he decided to back off, but kindly reminded them that he would be there if they wanted to talk to him about what had upset them. You were amazed, and also a little curious about why this Angel cared about why some random Serf was so upset. It was nice, even if a more suspicious part of you wondered what it was that he was after.

[lilybug-02]

Sorry to bring this up, but you used to draw with a guy under the name GameTheSoldier right? Have you seen what he recently posted?

Yes. For starters, I want to reiterate that anyone reading this post NEEDS TO BLOCK HIM. He is an online predator and emotional manipulator.

Trigger Warning Below: (Mentions of manipulation, predatory behavior, grooming, and pornography)

Me and 2 of my close tumblr friends would draw with him constantly on magma.io (all of 2022). He had strange tendencies of guilting us into drawing late into the night and emotionally breaking our characters. February of last year both of my friends came out and told me that he had been talking and drawing with them more privately. He had asked and guilted them into drawing pornography and extremely violent artworks of his and their characters. Both were underage.

I can tell you that what he has "admitted" in his most recent post is not even close to what he actually did.

Gamethesoldier, as a 22+ year old man, targeted MULTIPLE minors online, heavily MANIPULATED them, started long and serious relationships with them, and MANY more disgusting acts with pornography and gore. I went to the police last year, but was unable to get him arrested as he and his victims were in different countries and I myself was not one of his victims.

What he has done is unacceptable, despicable, and criminally illegal. One of my friends was heavily impacted by his actions and is still clearly shaken by what happened. They are at no fault for any of what he did.

For respect to my friends, I kept this quiet, deleting all of my art with him. But recently I saw he was with another magma.io group and... I could NOT let that stand. He does not deserve pity or empathy. He is a criminal and one who has manipulated minors to a horrifying degree.

I apologize for the extreme degree of this post. But I wanted to make it clear, he is not a good person.

[gooperts-gunk]

im so crazy over the tragedy of everything q!bbh does being under a demon pretense even though he's a fallen angel.

do u think he just accepts the demon label because it's easier. do u think he believes it too, and catches himself in his thoughts with "oh, right. im not exactly that". and maybe he believes that he did this to himself? do u think what he did was to protect himself or someone? no matter the fall, he still has so much kindness to give and his brain just isn't wired the way a natural-born demon would be, he can't hold back instincts when time demands it, maybe that's why he fell in the first place.

and when he's finally bad, not good, it's treated like the end of the world, without empathy on why he would act out. do you think this keeps happening? the same scenario, multiple times, every timeline? he has to be used to it. so he has to take it in stride. he's good until he lashes out under extreme pressure, and suddenly he's called demon. and once again he's what heaven made him out to be. what he made himself to be, his brain would ruthlessly provide...

i don't think he wants to be that, though he hides secrets behind secrets of which neither identity is a home... but i don't think he wants to have to change, either. and i don't think that's wrong of him.

...you collapse atlantis ONE TIME and all of a sudden YOU'RE the bad guy and SURE it was FUN but REALLY now,--