#corrine writes

[itsactuallycorrine]

inertia

buddie; 1K words; feelizings realizations; s08e06 spec

If Buck still had his math superpowers, he’s sure he could’ve told everyone how statistically unlikely it is for them to be on a second call where a kid fell down a well.

Even without the powers, he has an inkling: really, really, really fucking unlikely.

And yet here they are, staring at another kid stuck in a pipe, and icy cold dread ties Buck’s stomach into knots the minute Eddie opens his mouth.

Bobby says something about Eddie not fitting, and while Eddie, Bobby, and Chim are brainstorming solutions, Buck knows he needs to get his head back in the game, needs to be here, in the moment, doing his job.

Instead, his mind is cast over four years back, his eyes watch the sky for signs of a storm, his ears ring with the memory of a deafening crack, and his heart beats desperately against the cage of his ribs, pounding and pounding like it’s looking for an escape, any way out. 

“You good?” Hen murmurs to him, sliding him a solicitous glance and nudging her arm into his. 

Mouth dry, he nods. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he manages, and it convinces neither of them. 

Hen doesn’t call him out on it, though, just raises one brow. “He’s not going back down—he’s all right. No cut lines today.”

Buck’s still nodding, doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop. An object in motion and all that, Newton’s first law, he vaguely remembers from one of Christopher’s science assignments last year. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “I know.” Nodding, nodding. 

She frowns, brows drawn low in concern, before a small smile pulls at her lips. “That was the first time I suspected, you know,” she says, quiet and teasing, and it’s so unexpected, he’s finally able to force his head to stop, to tilt it her way instead.

“Suspected what?”

“That maybe you weren’t as straight as we all assumed.”

It’s even more unexpected. He gapes at her. “What? Why?”

That skeptical brow goes up again. “Really?” she asks, bone dry. “You can’t think of any reason why someone might have seen you that night and suspected that maybe, just maybe, you felt a little more than friendship for your coworker?” When he stares at her, lost, she softens, grasping his arm as if to steady him for the next blow. “Buck, you were wailing and clawing at the ground like you’d just lost the love of your life.” 

Her words strum at something, buried deep down inside him, and its sonorous echoes bounce within the boundaries of his skin, making his head ring. He inhales sharply through his nose, casting his gaze away, from her, from the team, from the call. It’s not like he doesn’t remember that, remember Bobby bodily hauling him up from ground, holding Buck as he sobbed. Remember them talking to him in their gentle hysterical-victim-handling voices, assuring him that no one had given up on Eddie and they were doing what they could to get him out. Remember the heady relief of Eddie showing up on his own, cracking jokes like he hadn’t almost died, radiating cold and hardly able to stand. 

It had felt like a miracle. It still did. They’d all had their share of them, before and since, but that had been the first time it’d happened for Eddie, to Eddie, since they’d met. The first time Buck had to sit with the idea of losing him, of being left behind in a very real and permanent way, one from which there was no coming back. 

Fully-realized, post-therapy, semi-mature Buck can admit now that he’d never given himself the time or space to process that. Instead, he’d just put it away, on to the next thing. There had been Red, and then Abby’s return, and, in retrospect, an obvious dotted line that connected all three of these events, drawn in tears and sweat and blood and abandonment issues. 

But that didn’t mean what Hen was insinuating. He shakes his head. “It was Eddie,” he says, helpless. “I didn’t—I’m not… I can’t. Hen, I can’t.” It’s the last thing he needs on top of everything going on between him and Tommy, and Christopher still being gone, and all the other ripples finally calming in the wake of last spring. He cannot afford an ill-timed revelation right now.

Her lips part as she stares at him. “Buck, I didn’t mean—” she starts, only to be cut off by Chim’s urgent call of, “Hen, need you over here.” But still she hesitates until Buck gives her a nod. “We’ll talk more later,” she promises, and there is nothing Buck wants less, so he ducks her the rest of shift, and doesn’t even change out of his uniform before he takes off the next morning. 

In his loft, he struggles to keep his mind blank as he showers and changes, but as soon as he lays down, sleep eludes him and the floodgates open.

He closes his eyes against it, the childish thought that if he can’t see it, it can’t hurt him. But it’s there, and real, spilling out and touching everything, an unstoppable rising tide, and Buck curls up into a ball as it picks him up and carries him along, gasping for breath as it buffets him from every side. He wants to fight, wants to push it back, but it’s too much, years and years of moments big and small, touches, looks, words, deeds. 

It’s You can have my back any day and There’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you and You act like you’re expendable, but you’re wrong and You don’t have to be anything for anybody.

It’s fond eye rolls and soft smiles and secrets shared and fears unburied and shoulder touches and the right kind of teasing. 

It’s fear and joy and laughter and tears and friendship and grief and comfort and…love. Always love. 

Hen was right; he had been acting like the love of his life had been buried alive, because he had. Because that’s what Eddie was—is—for Buck. 

Fuck.

ao3

[mischievous-thunder]

[krazieka2]

I've played the Fire Emblem Husbando Dating Simulator Games

[brainrotcharacters]

rewatching Deadpool and Wolverine and there's something to be said about how Wade's mind was messier than Logan's

[fiery-emblems]

I really wish people would stop claiming that Fates/Awakening/ect. are the WoRsT wRiTiNg EvEr while propping up 3H as some kind of modern masterpiece. Houses is JUST AS WILLING (if not more so) as any other Fire Emblem game to pull random details right out the butt, or bring up seemingly important details just to forget about them in the next scene and never bring them up again, or introduce details that directly contradict something you learned about previously.

Houses just gets away with more because the first half of the game puts half an effort into making it seem like the characters backstories are tied to the main plot (only the BL though lol), and because OoH tHe StOrY iS sOo DaRk.

[docolives]

WHO: Livvy & @xcorikhang

WHERE: Harmony Ranch, countryside

WHEN: Bachelorette Party (October 12, 2024)

"Cori," Livvy dramatically stage-whispered towards her best friend, beckoning her forward with a crooked finger, although it soon all dissolved into giggles when the darker-haired woman approached. Besides, it was nothing serious. If anything, this was ridiculous. "Look at how many ones I brought," she opened her purse, revealing the neatly stacked dollar bills, rubber banded and ready to go. "Now I just have to get drunk enough to use them."

[jaceeverett]

WHO: Jace & @xcorikhang

WHERE: Ren Faire

WHEN: July 27, 2024

For never having been to a Renaissance Faire -- at least an adult who could remember what they were like -- Jason found that he could fit in pretty easily. All one really needed to do was carry around a sword in one hand, and an ale in the other. And given how things had been lately, the ale seemed like a nice added bonus. Having just found a place to sit in one of the food courts, he brought the tall glass up to his mouth at the same time that he saw someone approaching, recognizing her instantly, and lifting his fingers in greeting, bowing as well as he could from where he was sitting on the bench. "M'lady."

[spenglersglasses]

⌛⚙️ What a lovely day..... ⚙️⌛

Listen, lol I had to! Anyways already friends, here is my first and maybe my only venture into the world of Mad Max with a focus on my favorite character, Immortan Joe.

I am really excited to get this too you and as with all my fics I will update as I am able and inspired to make sure I am giving you my all every time.

**This fic will be an AU! Mostly I will try to stay canon but there will be some conflicts and reimaginings. This includes themes as listed in the tags, if any of this doesn't sit well with you, please skip this one!**

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️Discussion about RAPE/FORCED PREGNANCY/VIOLENCE/VARIOUS DISTRUBING SUBJECTS⚠️

Listen you are reading a fic with Immortan Joe, it should be pretty obvious. but that being said if you are still here, I sincerely hope you all enjoy!

Thank you so much for reading!

*Special shoutout to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the awesome dividers!

Glimmer in the Wasteland

Many years after the Citadel was conquered and seized by him, the Immortan Joe longs to feel something besides the pain and anguish of the world. Desperate to secure his legacy by siring an heir, he decides that now is the time before it becomes too late. Meanwhile a young woman named Corrine is separated from her group in the Wasteland and captured by the War Boys. When Corrine awakens within the fortress of the Citadel, her world changes when she has an encounter with the deeply feared and infamous warlord.

Chapter 1: God and the Scavenger

Immortan Joe struggles with his inevitable mortality and makes a life changing decision. A young woman, Corrine is separated from her scavenging group in the Wasteland during an attack and is captured by the War Boys.

Also available HERE on AO3.

Will eventually be very NSFW below the cut!!

It had finally happened. A spot—tingling. A pang of pain threatening that a sore would soon be sprouting up along the outer edge of his back. 

It would be the first outward effects of the nuclear fallout Joe would bear. One that no amount of salvaged antiseptics and alcohol washes could stave off. Lesions caused by a cancer too tenacious to be contained as it slowly ate at him from inside. Suddenly he, the Immortan, felt all too mortal.

“It is time.” The People Eater spurred him. Joe, nodding as the War Pups covered him in powder. HIs already pale skin turned ghostly white. Adorned in his pauldrons and chest plate, molded in plexiglass and covered in his former accolades, as he took to his feet. 

His long, ghastly white hair, flowing in the harsh wind as he approached the balcony. Ready to address the wretched below as they waited for the life-giving water. The people of the Citadel, all but decaying in the heat and waste of what was left of the world they all inhabited. Desperate for things, once taken for granted. 

As they stood waiting, the man they called “God”, began rolling his neck side to side. Hoping to release some of the tension in his shoulders. Held there from the weight of his breathing apparatus. His piercing blue eyes staring out into the Citadel under blackened lids. Tired and weary. The rest of his face concealed beneath the grim of his mask. Cold, chrome and equine teeth bordered by hoses for breathing. He looked as frightening as he did mighty, standing before them. 

The whole of the crowd below, cheering as they saw his silhouette appear beside his son, Rictus, and the People Eater. The People Eater leaned over to his commander's side. Holding up the shining microphone as Joe took hold of the aquifer valve levers in his hands. The time of placation, arriving once again. 

“It is through me that you will all find salvation. Through me that you will ascend. Rising above the rot and filth of this life…before moving on to the next…” Joe began. The people below crying out his name, Rictus clapping incessantly. Joe shot him a look, stopping him mid applause. The feebleness of Rictus’s diseased mind, growing more apparent each day.  

“Please sir, go on.” The People Eater nudged. Joe returned his attention to his task. Frustrated and angry that he had to speak at all. 

“...You shall drink of the Aqua Cola and remember who gave you this gift…” Joe continued, pulling the levers and listening to the gears as they twisted and turned. The water cascading down upon the wretched below. 

“That’s right. The Immortan is the redeemer!” the Prime Imperator shouted. Joe’s hold on the people of the Citadel renewed as the vapor from the water found its way upon his face. A cool mist that fed what was left of his own soul.  

Joe closed his eyes to revel in the feel of it on his skin when suddenly, the fury building inside him returned. The moment of solace, short lived as Joe began yanking back hard on the levers. The flow, shutting down as he removed himself from the room without another word. Leaving Rictus, the People Eater, the Prime Imperator, and his son’s Colossus and Scrotus confused.

“You had better go see what is wrong with Dad, Eater.” Colossus suggested from his small, makeshift chair. His diseased and deformed body, struggling to move itself. Swiveling back around to his telescope as he watched the scene below.  

“Of course, sir.” the People Eater replied as he fiddled with the chain that connected his nipples. Smiling and sending a nod to his ruler’s sons as before making his way out to find him. 

The pain was excruciating. Like an explosion that was still going off inside her head. Corrine opened her eyes to find darkness. She began to tremble, the fear���immediately settling in. Where am I? She thought.

Her whole life she had only known struggle. The abrasive grit of the sand and the heat of the unencumbered sun. The place she was now, it was different. The air still and the calm and there were drops of something coming from above her. It was cool and crisp like water across her skin. 

It was jarring. It had been so long since she'd had anything but the sensation of sweat running over her. Her body, more recently than ever before, in a constant state of dehydration and hunger. Life in the Wasteland wasn't easy, especially for a scavenger. 

Her people had been lucky. For years managing to gather enough supplies to keep the true horrors at bay. A hearty people, but kind despite their hard way of life. Corrine was born after the world ended, twisting into desolation and undeserving perdition.

It seemed now her luck had run out. Only flashes, sensations, and fragmented images remained from what had happened. She could remember the days before. Traveling across the endless sands and dirt plains. 

They were out together, the crew she knew as her brethren, scouring a deserted camp for ever dwindling supplies. Their trip, having gone on far longer than expected. Having strayed days away from their home. They had set up a camp for the night, ready to find their way back once the sun returned to the horizon.  

All seemed well until the sound of revving engines came out from the darkness. Her eyes shut open. Corrine quickly got to her feet and exited her tent. Running as fast as she could through the sand. Listening to the others crying out for help, before the sounds of malicious laughter began filling the night air. 

It was the War Boys. Until then they had only been a story. A tale told to the youngest of her colony as a warning not to venture far. A warning she regretted not having heeded.  

Was she being held captive by them? Why was she spared instead of the others? How long was she out? There was nothing else she could remember before things went black. No way to know for sure where she’d been taken. 

She could hear the metal clanking of the chains as she shifted around. The sound, rattling mercilessly in her ears. Her head, now pounding full force as she tried to stand. Feeling the wet, bloody knot that hid within her hair. 

“Ssss...agh.” She groaned as her fingers grazed the spot.  When she felt she had her footing, Corrine began scanning the walls. Feeling the rock beneath her hands as she tries to find a way out of the darkness. She continued until in an instant she was suddenly blinded. 

“Who's there?” 

“Hmph…” groaned someone in the darkness. A man, only barely coming into focus as Corrine felt her heart pounding in her chest. Wanting to flee, the sight of his shotgun barrel held out in front her. His pale, sunken face smiling behind it.

“Yes…yes, you'll do just fine. A gift, a delightful gift.” he said gleefully. In an instant a chill shot through her spine. Horrified at what was to come. 

“Where am I?!” She yelled, tears flowing down over her cheeks. The man disappeared and before she knew it, Corrine was listening to the sound of a metal. Clunking and scraping that rang out with the slam of a door. The War Boy’s ‘delightful gift’ realizing she was once again alone in the darkness. 

Joe paced the floor of his rooms—slowly and methodically. Every step, filled with harsh contemplation. Only noticing briefly that the People Eater had followed him in. 

“Sir? What is it? What are you thinking?” The Eater asked, wondering what could be brewing in his mind. Wondering if the Immortan was concocting a new way of cultivating crops? Maybe a strategy for expanding the War Boys’ lifespans—something more than just the unlucky blood bags they'd culled from the wasteland. The truth however was far more intrinsic, more primal. 

“Leave me.” Joe said, his voice level and his eyes fixed into the space before him. Focused on something abstract, but to him something completely clear.

“Maybe I could be of some help.” The Eater continued.

“I think I'm ready to try again.” the Immortan explained, the Eater’s eyes widening. He knew better than most what was truly important to Joe. One thing that his power and all the guzzolene the world could muster wouldn’t give him—a healthy child. 

“What's that sir?” he asked him still, hoping that it might be something else. 

“You know exactly what.” Joe chided. The hurt and angry present in his eyes. 

“Are you…are you sure sir? We were fortunate enough with Rictus and Scrotus. It’s been years since—”

“I am aware.” Joe growled, turning quickly to face his comrade. The memories of his failures, fresh in his mind. The People Eater did his best to swallow back his reservations, mostly in fear of the thrashing that the disobedience might incite. 

“Immortan, I come with news.” the Prime Imperator said, bursting into the room with a smile spread wide across his face. 

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?!” the Eater yelled. 

“Some of the boys returned last night, riding high and proud. They found a group of foragers out in the wasteland.” he continued, both the Eater and Joe intrigued.

“Anything worth salvaging?” the Eater asked. 

“The men didn’t last long enough to see the rocky formations but the other one they found—” he boasted before pausing for a breath.

“Go on.” Joe told him.

“The other one is a woman—a young woman.” The imperator finished. The People Eater let out a chuckle. 

“Sir…it seems fate may be on your side.” The Eater finished. Immortan Joe's eyes held a glimmer of hope within them as he approached the imperator. Grabbing him by the bandana on his neck. Burning a hole through his eyes with his stare.

You had better not be joking.” Joe growled. His ally, shaking his head and throwing up in hands in protest of the accusation. “Good. Eater, send for Miss Giddy and have her ready the vault. I shall seek an audience with this acquired treasure tomorrow at dawn. "

 “Come up, get up now. Get up. We haven't much time.” said a soft voice. Corrine groaned, rolling over on the ground. In and out of consciousness as the sweet tone of the woman’s voice calmed her. It was similar to her mother's and Corrine was devastated when her eyes opened to find a strange old woman, covered head to toe in inscriptions, and not her mother staring back at her. 

“Time?” She absentmindedly repeated, head still aching from the trauma of the day before.

“Yes…we need to move you to the vault. We must bathe and dress you before he arrives.” The woman explained, helping Corrine to her feet and walking her down a long winding hall. Stopping only once they arrived at a large vault door. So large Corrine had never seen anything like it. 

“What is this?” she asked. The woman, pulling the already unlocked door out before them revealing the beautiful scene within. 

“This is your new home.” she explained, nudging her inside. Corrine was in awe; in all her life she’d never seen a place so beautiful. The ceiling, open to the sky. The sun, beginning to rise in the distance and illuminating the room. Its rays shimmering off the large crystal chandelier that hung from above a piano, just opposite the room. 

There was a small watering pool along the ground. Flowing steadily like a stream. And there were books—lots of them. Oh the knowledge they held, she thought to herself. Would she be able to actually read them? 

Then there was another room. One with beds, real pillows, and clean linens. It was all too much to take in, her eyes beginning to tear. It just didn’t make sense, none of it. 

In such violence she’d been brought to this place, one of beauty and all the comforts she had otherwise been denied. But why? “Got it all fixed up for you my dear. Come, come. Let Miss Giddy help you in.” she beckoned, helping Corrine remove her tattered scraps of clothing. What was left of them, covered in blood and dirt. Then finally into the pool of water. 

“Giddy?” she asked, before gasping as the cool water surrounding her. Kneeling in the water in only her underwear. 

“Yes, little bird. I will be your caretaker. Get you everything you need.” she assured her. The woman easing Corrine’s fears as she washed her hair. Missy Giddy kept mostly quiet, careful to not disclose too much. Corrine knew answers would come in time, but worried she might not care for what those answers may be. 

Once the water ran clear of the grit and soil washed from her hair, Miss Giddy helped Corrine out from the pool. Allowing her to balance with a hand on her shoulder as she tried to dry off. Then getting her dressed in a white muslin ensemble. The fabric, billowy and light on her curvy frame.

Afterward Corrine sat beside the water as Miss Giddy brushed through her hair. It was long, wavy and a bit unruly after having been matted from the blood and sand. Corrine wincing as the brush tugged at the skin surrounding her wound. Miss Giddy did her best to be gentle and thankfully finished without too much of a fuss.

“Thank you.” Corrine said as she pulled her knees to her chest. “Miss Giddy.”

“Yes?”

“What am I?” Corrine began when the door opened, and a man stepped in. He was tall and impressive. Dressed in clothing, the likes of which she had never seen. An intimidating mask concealing the majority of the lower half of his face. His eyes, however, blindingly blue, staring at her.   

“Leave us Miss Giddy.” he commanded, it was clear to Corrine that whoever he was, he was calling the shots. Without hesitation the old woman left, leaving Corrine and the mysterious man alone in the vault. 

“What is your name?” he asked, Corrine feeling her heart pounding with both intrigue and fear. 

“What's it to you?” she asked back, still unsure of what circumstances she had found herself in. Clutching the wrap of the dress within her fists. The nerves, as clear on her as the orange hue of the sky.  

“I am not going to harm you.” he told her, slowly approaching as he grabbed a chair from along the wall and brought it to sit beside her. Corrine frozen in fear, wondering what he might do next. 

“Is that so? What if I don’t want you to know my name.” Corrine asked, careful not to make eye contact. Feeling the breath halting inside her chest with each passing second in his presence. 

“Then what am I to call you?” 

“Uh…It's…It’s Corrine.” she finally told him. Her eyes, unable to help but meet with him. The two of them locked on to one another. Sparking green and crystal blue orbs, fixed on one another—no way of turning back now. The man shifted in the chair, the movement causing Corrine to flinch. 

“Hmph…an unusual name to be sure.” he said, brows piqued. 

“It was my great grandmother's.” Corrine explained. So entranced at the sight of him, at the sound of his deep, thick voice that she wondered if she’d said anything at all. 

“I see. Well, here you shall be given a new name to go with a new life.” he began. The words forcing a knot to swell in Corrine’s throat. “Give me your hand.” 

“I—” Corrine began but could not find the words. The man, reaching out his hand for hers to take. Reluctantly she took it, the man helping her up from her spot on the ground. The two of them standing together, intensely facing one another head on. 

“We shall call you the Fray.” he proclaimed as he felt the roughness of her hands. A sign of her life spent laboring out in the unforgiving wasteland. A wasteland he would save her from. His gaze, softening as he looked at her. 

A soft heart-shaped face, clear skin with no sign of disease. Emerald-colored eyes that were kind and gentle. As his sights continued to travel along her body, he took note of her large breasts and hips. Everything about her suggested she was perfect, full-life, and fertile.

There was more to her, and he could tell. The way she spoke with him, despite her fear. A hint of strength beneath a thinly veiled exterior. An observation that spoke to him, in ways he couldn’t quite comprehend. 

Corrine took in a deep breath; it was more than obvious he was sizing her up for something. This man whose name she didn’t know, though he now knew hers. As she exhaled, she summoned the courage to ask him.

“And what…what is your name?” she inquired. Watching a change in the man’s demeanor. The soft look, growing more sinister as he pulled her towards him. Now only inches from the haunting mask on his face. 

“It's Joe.”

Notes: Aqua Cola- WaterRe Guzzolene- gasoline

[little-devil-art]

Found Family

‼️My Fatesona/ Fates OC Alice‼️

[nowis-scales]

Rating: Mature Audiences

General Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Fandoms: Fire Emblem Fates

Relationships: Takumi & His Siblings, Takumi & Leo, Takumi & Hinata & Oboro

Additional Tags: References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Revelation Route, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, Brotherly Love, Nightmares, Near-Death Experiences, Anxiety, Prince Takumi of Hoshido it may be time to accept that you’re a good person and people like you

Story Chapter Count: 7 chapters

Story Summary:

Takumi’s Solo Ending, JPN:

“Takumi assisted in the restoration of Hoshido, which had been desolated due to the ravages of war. All the human kindness he had seen suppressed the shadow, he was recognized throughout the country as a skilled leader, and he became someone who could be relied on.” (Translated by @.aphonicdreams, Tumblr)

An exploration of just a few of the moments that led Takumi to realize that the world is much kinder than he anticipated.

[Read it on AO3.]

(Please Note:

This story exists in multiple parts. The publication of these parts is ongoing, but the longer explanation of ‘why not all at once’/additional schedule is here.

The content of this story will also be only on AO3 due to recent discussions of AI scraping, thank you for your understanding!)

[itsactuallycorrine]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Christopher Diaz/Original Character Characters: Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Season/Series 07, Future Fic, Getting Together, Weddings, Reconciliation, POV Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), POV Outsider, Light Angst, The Angst is Past Angst, Fluff Summary:

Christopher never comes home from El Paso. After six months, Eddie decides to follow him, and won't let Buck come along.

Thirteen years later, Christopher--now an adult about to get married--tries to fix what was broken.

[mischievous-thunder]

Bonus:

Cassandra saw Wade and Logan and said, "You two are cute!" She knew about their feelings for each other.

[dirtyoldmanhole]

closeup of a gunter/corrin piece i'll never finish ~ tweaking corrin's design a bit, just a touch more otherworldly.

[lexsssu]

Interspecies Sex (Kamui | Corrin)

TAGS: Corrin/F!reader, double d*cks, smut, drabble Ao3 ver.

“Wow...It’s as if your cunt was made to take my cocks...your womb fated to carry my seed and grow my brood…”

Wonder and awe shone across the dragon prince’s face as his crimson orbs locked themselves upon the sight of your tight little cunny clamping on his twin cocks, seemingly unable to take both in at the same time and yet somehow managing to do so.

The both of you had of course done your best to prepare you, from toying with your pussy until your lewd fluids dripped from it like a faucet and your walls more accustomed to foreign intrusions, to using some lubricating oils upon Corrin’s members.

However, that still didn’t prevent you both from the amazement of feeling him slipping both, stretching your gummy walls that pulsed and tightened as they embraced your prince’s draconic cocks. His majestic tail swished behind him almost happily, croons and purrs rumbling from his chest as he began pistoning his hips into your welcoming depths.

Your fingers clutched at the luxurious silken sheets, mouth parted and eyes practically rolling to the back of your head as the prince molded your womb to the shape of his twin cocks.

You could only wiggle your hips back in an attempt to match his fierce thrusts, desperate to feel his members flooding your heated insides with his potent semen until your belly rounds with how much seed he filled you with.

[cuntycassandra]

People who are censoring Emma Corrin at the Nosferatu premieres are the worst!

I’m not going to comment this on the Instagram post I’m referring to, because I’m not going to instigate anything hostile on that platform specifically because it’s not worth it, but to whoever you are, you’re so frustrating.

For anyone confused, here is what Emma wore to the Nosferatu premiere in London a few nights ago. A gorgeous Victorian-nightgown esque dress that compliments the one they’re seen wearing in the trailer. (Also their makeup was chefs kiss, 10/10, no notes.)

Today I was just checking my Instagram, and I came across an account that decided it was up to them to dictate how this wonderful actor was perceived on the red carpet…for a film they play an important role in…

First of all, what on earth is this? In the world we live in, in the situation the western political scale is falling right now, do you seriously deem it appropriate for you to pick and choose how this person is allowed to be perceived on a red carpet event for a movie they worked hard on??

Do you seriously think it’s appropriate for you to censor someone’s body, which is their form of expression and statement, because of a personal, borderline outdated, opinion? If Emma’s style choice is not to your taste (which is a bigoted take anyway because a quick scroll will show you the shirtless Bill photos on this account, so wonderful, you’re just ignorant), then…crop Emma out if that’s something you don’t want on your blog? Like I’m sorry there is absolutely no need for this. It’s so, so, so disrespectful.

I completely understand that this account belongs to a person, and they are within their right to decide what they do or don’t want on their blog (even if I disagree), HOWEVER, there are ways to do it without being deemed oppressive, condescending and bigoted. Cropping Emma out removes them from the focal point, again something I don’t agree with, but it doesn’t shove negative attention onto their choices either. Highlighting it with an ugly photoshop is not only rude, but actually insulting, and seems as though you’re purposefully forcing Emma’s look into the spotlight.

Let’s zoom in on that comment a little more, as well.

‘With a little help from me to Emma Corrin’ a condescending insinuation that you think they need your help, in need of your assistance, which immediately puts them below you. When, if I recall correctly, this is Emma’s livelihood and daily job. They seem to be quite well versed in how to rock a red carpet.

‘Just disrespectful 😒’ - how so, to who and to what? Just say you feed into the over sexualisation of breasts and go. Be honest about your bigoted view, don’t sugarcoat it with the essence that you’re ’doing them a favour’. Nobody else at the premiere seemed bothered, everyone was happy and taking photos and there wasn’t a hint of awkwardness to pick up on.

The second photo was at the Berlin premiere, but shows equally, if not more, nipple. (Which weirdly the poster I’m referring to had no issue with that outfit, but the London one? 🤔

Oh and also? Don’t put Emma’s name in the hashtags if you’re so damn scandalised by their attire.

And before anyone comes for me with ‘you’re overreacting’ or ‘it’s not that deep, don’t freak out’, it actually is that deep. This is disrespectful at best and hateful and oppressive at worst, even if the original poster didn’t intend it that way. It’s essentially saying ‘I’m taking away your self expression because it doesn’t fit with I deem acceptable for someone with breasts’.

In this vile world where women/afab trans people in general are consistently being oppressed, ordered around, abused and more, seeing someone be blatantly so rude like this is just…gross, especially around such an anticipated movie and with a wonderful cast. Please try and do better in the future, there’s no need for this.

Also. Here’s those shirtless photos of Bill, in case anyone wanted evidence of that. (Who is also slaying may I say!)

[copiousloverofcopia]

Whoops my hand slipped.....

coming soon!