#dw inspo

[vifilms]

THE FIRST BITE!

pairing. rugby player!abby x fem!reader x rugby player!vi

the introduction. abby anderson, the co-captain of the legends. the thickest, strongest girl around and she sure does pull like it. then there’s vi, tragically pathetic unable to get a girlfriend vi, a co-captain with some of the past game in the pitch but can’t find any to save her life off the field. or will misfortune of missing keys bring the luck directly to her?

the two have done nothing but compete against each other from the day they were born. abby has been a big girl from a young age, taller than most, it didn’t take much for her to bulk up. her biceps bigger than the largest dumbells in the gym, thighs and legs strong enough to kill a man. it’s what made her a dominant force on the field. she’s a bull you’ll try like hell to doze over, but the task is nearly impossible.

then there’s violet.

she’s not as big or strong, but she’s quick. she relies on it for every match. gliding on the pitch like a leopard. it’s because of her sheer speed that the team has won so frequently. violet is also the painful thorn in abby’s side, why she isn’t the sole captain but co-captains. the best of the best coach sev says, the yin and yang of professional rugby.

abby isn’t too sure of it but she’s in it to win and for that it’s the only reason why a bond is forged between them. the hatred they have for each other becomes kinship, hours on the field bringing out the best in each other only makes them win and win, and fucking win. the surrounding districts wanting to know coach sev’s secret.

it’s friendship.

two weeks from the quarter finals, the pair decides to blow off steam and that’s when the real competition between them thrives. until recently, abby had been happily taken, violet didn’t have to compete with the beefcake. even if she’d never admit it, abby makes her feel insecure. she’s smart, kind, and seriously ripped.

the amount of girls she turns town in one night at the local bar, seraphites, makes her wanna shrivel into a ball until all she feels is the a black hole swallowing her essence whole.

but now abby is single and god, vi will cry into her pillow if another girl she thinks is pretty leaves home with abby.

“don’t feel so bad. most wouldn’t last this long with me around.”

“yeah, i feel so grateful to still be here.”

abby chuckles as she playfully punches at vi’s shoulder.

“i’ll throw you a solid tonight then, the after party after quarter finals, i won’t munch all night and you know how hard that is for me.” abby playfully pouts.

“oh, really? how pitiful. that’s actually worse than competing with you. a sympathy thrown one night stand.”

abby harmlessly puts her hands up, taking a sip from her chilled beer. immediately, the bartender starts chatting up with her and abby starts being abby. it infuriates her how little the broad blonde has to try. she slips into this girl every damn gay girl in town eats up like a midnight snack.

each time, she starts it off slow. easy. throwing a compliment your way, if that bite into the bait, they always touch her hand, her arm, or stroke the vein protruding from her bicep. abby shamelessly flirts until they’re giggling, nearly putty in her hands.

a couple hours later, the two of them are leaving but vi is walking home alone while abby is entering a cab with the breathtaking bartender who’s shift has just conveniently ended.

it’s the only night she’s thankful abby left. it’s then she realizes as she attempts to get in her shared apartment with blondie that she’s keyless and no way to get into her apartment. the office is closed and she is so severely fucked.

vi doesn’t realize that’s she just sitting there like an idiot staring until a stranger’s voice pulls her out of it.

“any luck with your mind warping powers or are you keyless?”

vi jumps at the voice, locking eyes with the most gorgeous person she’s ever seen in her life. it doesn’t help you are wearing the shortest skirt she’s ever seen, cleavage spilling out of your top and she admires the white sheer top you’re wearing.

she feels a tad breathless.

that has nothing to with you.

just her predicament.

totally.

“do you have a roommate to call?”

vi comes to it and she murmurs and soft yeah, trying to not make eye contact with the goddess she somehow has managed to embarrass herself over.

quickly, she dials abby’s number, waiting for her to pick up not, once, not twice, but three times. damn fucker is munching right now, vi swears to herself.

but she didn’t say it to herself, she said it out loud where the girl of dreams is giggling as she speed texts abby, trying to evoke a response from her.

“indisposed and munching?” you ask, you’re smirking and vi is blushing.

“yeah, her favorite extra curricular activity and she does it exceedingly fast.”

“is it yours too?”

shit.

oh my fucking shit.

are you hitting on her?

no. that’s not humanly possible for someone like you to be hitting on someone as tragic as her. vi’s convinced it’s just because abby isn’t here. that’s all. her cockblocking stunner of a best friend isn’t here to make her life sufferable but the way you’re eyeing her up like a hot piece of meat should make her feel slightly objectified if you she wasn’t doing the exact same thing.

“right girl, right munch.”

it’s the dumbest thing vi’s ever said but you laugh. offering her a spot on your couch and she’s eternally grateful for. you even have a pair of shorts and a spare t-shirt that she can sleep in. she’s eternally grateful she doesn’t have to sit outside her apartment alone for god knows how long waiting for abby to be done with her seven course meal.

violet planned to actually sleep but then you play a vinyl record on the turntable and it just so happens to be vi’s favorite and she can’t stop telling about every song on the record. she’s so animated as she talks, her powder hues vibrant as she goes into the lyrics she loves the most, what songs made her cry first listen and the songs that still make her cry to this day.

you’re looking at her the way vi’s always wanted to be look at. before either of you know it, four albums later, it’s nearly four in the morning and you’re leaning in close to her, so much so vi isn’t sure she can even breath. a vibrant pink strand gets twirled around your finger.

“know about all your favorite albums but not a name to the pretty face.”

“violet. or vi. whatever you prefer.” vi struggles to breathe even further as your lips ghost over hers.

“what do you prefer?”

“violet.”

you take a pause, licking your lips, slightly crazing violet’s lips. she looks a like a deer in headlight, terrified to make the first move but you like how shy she is, how she voices the thoughts she isn’t meant to. there’s a sweetness you want to sink your teeth into like cotton candy.

“violet it is then.”

putting her out of her own misery, your soft lips mold with hers and you’re dominant from the start. placing a delicate hand on her throat, claiming her with your tongue as you devour her whole. it’s hot and heavy. the clashing of teeth, the pulls at her pink hair, and violet can’t help but bring you closer to her.

still wearing this insufferably short skirt, vi smooths her touch over your soft thighs beneath the fabric. the two of you getting lost in each other until it’s all abruptly stops. she’s funneling her under the hem of your shirt, playing with the buttons until she absentmindedly plucks one open.

“fuck—” you curse, trying to maintain your compose but violet plucks another button and your perfect tits spill out of the material.

“yeah?” violet smirks, not being nearly as innocent as she appears.

“time to put that extra curricular to use then. let’s see how munch of a munch you can be.”

rayray’s nonsense. UM HI IDEK KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS. um. yeah. abby x vi are my favs and i'm forcing this on everyone but i also fuck with it??? idek. this is a crazy midnight kinda post, spur of the moment if you will. gonna try not to get tew in my head 'bout this. that's for future me to deal with BUT ALSO DO WE FUCK WITH IT???? only time will tell. ALRIGHT. let me work on this mega long vi fic i got going on .... byeeeeee ♡

[doostyaudi]

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Might redo shrimpo in the future. I don't like how he turned out :(

Edit: updated him! I love this design so much more! ^-^

[fadeyouout]

dallon in a bowie fit (again!)

[crnl-chicken-tots]

[starrsarchive]

i love writing glinda dealing with the horrors of an aristocratic society whilst simultaneously having a good luck babe moment because that's how i cope

[llocket]

✧ 　shellevision matching graphics

f2u w/ credit (credit me & @mreomys), reblogs appreciated! ↳ self indulgent!! ++ good in dark & light mode -- fanart by @mreomys

lesbians... blesbians...... LESBIANS!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THEM!!!! they are so me and @lavendergalactic for real

[whump-queen]

good idea: whumper tying their whumpee up and forcing them to cuddle

whumper’s arms wrapped tight and possessive around whumpee’s injured form—too strong to be fought off, or perhaps whumpee is just too weak by this point.

a softly murmured "behave” into the crook of whumpee’s neck while spooning

whumper digging their nails into fresh cuts, getting a whine and hiss in response—but they stop struggling, and whumper leans in close to their ear with a growling murmer— “mmn. good boy.”

whumpee feeling slow kisses pressed into the side of their neck that make their skin crawl

maybe whumpee gets their hands bound in front of them this time, so they can fit in closer against whumper. and its more comfortable too. “shh, let yourself enjoy this.”

whumper cuddling with their hand around whumpee’s throat, not squeezing or anything, just… resting there.

knowing that if they tried to pull away, that hand would tighten instantly and squeeze until whumpee was dizzy and writhing back against them

and size difference… their throat, so small and soft and delicate under whumper’s rough fingertips

the way whumper’s hands would fit around their waist— the way they could press in under their ribs until whumpee is choking and their chest is spasming

whumpee shivering when they feel low whispers in their ear. just… so sticky and possessive

whumpee waking up with sore aching muscles from being kept in the same uncomfortable position all night. they sleepily try and flex their muscles and move around—then they’re hit fully awake with a jolt of cold panic when they realize where they are—and that they still can’t move at all.

waking up with whumper’s arms still tightly wrapped around them and trying desperately to squirm away, before they feel whumper’s hold tighten around them and hear a sleepy possessive growl in their ear, “mnn… no. you stay.”

just… any of the ‘tied up and kept like that’ tropes melt my fucjfen brain

(shoutout @unorganisedalienrubbish for helping inspire today’s episode of terrible sticky intimate whumper shit)

[lavendergalactic]

☆ 　dandy's world shiny buttons !

self indulgent, made them myself credit 4 putting on resource rentrys / blogs / etc f2u, feel free to resize / recolour!

[academicgremlinhehe]

chem all-nighter rawr

[kamiruid]

　　𓏴𓏴ㅤ Vee Icons (?) ~ㅤ Credits not needed ! ₊ ⠀ ⩌⠀【 Kin/ID/Me & F/O okay ! 】 No reuploads .

PT : Vee Icons ~ Credits not needed! Kin/ID/Me and F/O okay! No reuploads.

Planning to make either Shelly , or Connie icons soon! I love Time Travel / Browserhistory , and Blue Screen of Death :D (Ship name I made up for Vee X Connie . .)

PT : Planning to make either Shelly, or Connie icons soon! I love Time Travel/Browserhistory, and Blue Screen of Death :D (Ship name I made for Vee x Connie)

[wulvercazz]

🎶" Hoy me puse linda para verte, Y tú que estás con suerte "🎶

[ncuts]

Them 💖

[ccorax018-art]

~After Midnight~

based off the Jack Vettriano painting of the same name

[robiinurheart33]

I’m SUCH a sucker for drunk calls/texts confessing their love and y’all know I gotta project it onto ghoap (buckle up guys its a long one I had to break it into two parts SORRY) pt. 2 (clicks for Palestine)

Soap’s blood is pumping. He can feel it heat up in his cheeks in the form of a blush, giggles bubbling up in his throat and his mind loose enough to just sew together a semblance of a bad idea.

Deployment had been boring at first. Stuck at home with unending nervous energy, fingers twitching and aching for the solid feel of a gun, the rough texture of his vest, the adrenaline clapping him on the shoulder before shooting through his veins like a drug. It was so unendingly dull. It’s not like he had anyone waiting for him at his apartment in Glasgow, and their break time was too short to visit his Ma.

So why not invite a few buddies out to drink? No harm, no foul.

Well, that’s what he initially thought. A couple hours later of wheezing and pounding of the table, shoes sticking to the ground and the smell of booze wafting though the air, Soap could confidently say that he was wasted. He’s leaning heavily on his buddy, chum, pal, that he for the life of him cannot remember right now. He’s swaying from side to side, feeling unusually breathless as he mumbles what could be the song that’s playing right now. He’s not sure. He combs his fingers through his hair, scratching a bit anxiously at the nape of his neck. Soap’s not sure if he wants to cry or laugh or vomit right about now. Pretty sure that’s a sign to fuck off, pass out on his bed and deal with the rest tomorrow.

Soap pushes off his… friend? Wait, did he even come with him? And heads towards the general direction where the toilet is. Might as well not look like a homeless person before heading home, wouldn’t wanna scare anyone. His head is spinning, pounding, loud, loud, loud, and nowhere near done with its madness. Soap slams his hand on the wall beside the toilet door, squinting and hoping the door he’s reaching for is the actual door, not it’s double. He does, in fact, get the right door (small miracles), and pushes it open.

He fumbles with his zipper and exhales heavily as he relieves himself. The man beside him in the toilet exits with a sniffle and stumbles out, the music getting louder for a second before the door closes again. Soap leans heavily against the sink counter and washes his hands, placing his fingers together and splashing water onto his face. Soap drags his hands down before greyish-blue eyes look back at him with a piercing stare. He blinks, and re-evaluates again. His hair is flopping to one side, weighed down by sweat. His face is flushed and his skin glows slightly with a thin sheen of sweat, his freckles just shy of being seen under his rosy cheeks, eyebags evident through the haze. He looks down and- oh. It appears his attempt at splashing his face with water wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped, half of his shirt drenched in water. Soap tugs loosely at the corner of his sleeves, releasing the bundled up fabric at his pits. He frowns in discomfort as the sticky heat of his arms lay back down against his skin. He sighs once more, not really feeling like his lungs are filling with oxygen, turning around and laying his hip against the counter lazily before pulling out his phone. 0237. He swipes down on his home screen and pouts at the “no new notifications” tab. He unlocks his phone and swipes through his contacts, unsure of who to drunk text at this hour. Gaz is probably asleep by now, if anyone has a spotless sleeping schedule, it’d be him. Price would have his head on a platter if he texted him about anything non-military business. Laswell, no. Ghost?

Huh.

Ghost…could be someone he could text. Soap isn’t quite sure if he would be awake right now. Do ghosts even need sleep? He huffs at his little comment, tapping on their chat together. Do they have the kind of relationship where soap can dramatically drunk text Ghost at 2am right now? Soap lets out a little bemused huff when he sees that he reached a dead end to their chat after one swipe of his thumb. Of course. Right bastard doesn’t text anyone. He tilts his head up to meet the flickering white light of the bathroom ceiling, watching water damage and mold streak across the concrete. Ghost… how is he during deployment? Does he still wear that mask around the relative safety of his own apartment? Does he have any hobbies? Does he go to the gym as well? Does he long to be back on base? Does he long to be back in the chaos of the war zone, alongside soap? Does he think of soap? Does he ever think to- before Soap knows what he’s even doing, his fingers clumsily type out a greeting.

Hwlli

That’s not quite right.

Gellp

Nope.

Hellu

Oh my god.

Hello

There we go! Soap smiles giddily at his screen, bringing it closer to his face before very carefully writing a much more sophisticated and brilliant follow up.

U up?

He’s the smartest person in the entire world. He supposes a part of himself preens at the thought of even just being able to text someone like Ghost. Big, bad, Ghost. He decidedly does not giggle like a schoolgirl. Just as his mind starts to wander back to the world outside the sickly bathroom, his phone vibrates, and looks down in confusion.

Drunk?

Soap frowns.

Who

You.

Wanna try anf gues, Lt?

You are drunk.

He says it like it’s a fact, like he knows everything. It annoys Soap, much more than it should. He supposes that it could maybe be something to do with the massive amounts of alcohol thrumming through his bloodstream at the moment, but he knows for a fact that it slices through his brain, presses against his throat and contracts his chest.

Yiu think so?

I know so.

Soap thinks Ghost is being a real dick right now.

Ittle know iy all

You’re drunk, Johnny. What do you want me to do about it?

Johnny. Johnny. Johnny. His head spins. If he closes his eyes and imagines hard enough, he can hear the raspy gravel of Ghost’s solid, thick British accent murmuring commanders into his ear. Speaking of noises, his brain starts to register more of the music from outside, the start of a song that Soap can vaguely remember, but he can’t quite put his finger on it right now. The electric guitar, drums and bass all purr in his subconciousness, his lips parting over the words, moving silently as he tries to pinpoint exactly where in the song he is right now. There’s this tune… think of you.. repeat, until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee…do I wanna know? Soap whispers, his mind curling and his ribs creaking. He feels like he’s truly, deeply losing it now, fingers slowly loosening over his phone. His head feels too big and his cheeks are burning, his shirt too tight against his chest and arms and his toes too restricted under his shoes. Everything was funny and everything was too bright and shiny and yearning and blurring and he wishes Ghost was here and he wishes everything was different and he wishes life could just be a little bit easier and-

His phone is vibrating.

Crawling back to you.

[limblesstar]

everyone please look at my beautiful wife patroclus in bg3! hes a tiefling beast master ranger.

also ft his stupid blond elf boyfriend achilles

[kyriefae]

The Flux/Series 13 was a super fun series. (fair warning; spoilers ahead)

Am I a fan of the fact we were starved for content for so long just to get 6 episodes and a few specials in like what 3 years? No. But the episodes we DID get were so great!

I could feel the intent to inspire wonder in the world-building of the Whoniverse again. I heard lines purposively written to punch out a few cheap laughs while moving the plot forward. These are things that are inherent to the legacy of Doctor Who. Whimsy, coy humor, and satire.

Where certain plot points had fallen short of expectation, it was clear Chibs had taken at least some of that feedback and applied it to making the 13th series a memorable one.

Also:

Karvanista! Who's a good boy?! 🤗 Wait, hold on, maybe that's too presumptuous. Who am I to judge anyone's moral status on appearance alone? 🤭

Such a fun character with a classic Doctor Who "secret backstory". On a deeper fan appreciation perspective, this series was and still very much is a sandbox for creative innovation.

The side characters we met in these 6 episodes felt so well established and grounded in the narrative. Eustacius Jericho facing his death in a poignantly heroic way, Vinder & Bel's love story, Dan's earnest appreciation of Liverpool (and most importantly history), heck even Claire was worth her salt as someone to revolve the story around.

Was she captivating? Well, we're talking about narrative structure here so *clearing throat; failing to hide obvious blushing* no? I mean, no. She's really just a vessel for the Weeping Angels to have a voice which makes for an interesting plot device but it also sidelines her own independent will in the story. Still, when that's a "weak point", you're doing well!

Also, Yaz was incredible and I felt like we were finally able to grasp at her individual companion status. Prior to the departure of "the fam", she was the prototypical companion choice but we were splitting time with Graham & Ryan. A common fear people had before the series came out was the inclusion of Dan Lewis being an obnoxious and obvious replacement for Graham... but I don't believe his presence in the story had that lasting effect.

In fact, I think of the scenes we had with Yaz, Eustacius, and Dan as being a time for Yaz to shine in particular as a leader. Clever, calm, and concerted in her efforts. Yaz's demeanor is the only reason that facet of the journey was successful. Her relationship with the Doctor was empowering in that way we impact others through positive experiences. She pushed herself to become more motivated as our time with her moved along and we were rewarded with a meaningful degree of success in her arc through this story.

Plus her love for the Doctor felt so real; so fated to be one-sided.

Rose's romantic attachment to 9/10 had the advantage of an entire plot built around her; elevating her importance to the Doctor as a being we came to know, for a time, as Bad Wolf.

With Yaz, she is, in fact, an ordinary human who doesn't get to have some immense cosmically significant role with a title that gets plastered across the whole of the universe for the Doctor to piece together like a puzzle. She is an incredibly smart and capable person; she is also mortal.

Say what have you about Yaz + 13 (and I have my opinions too of them never kissing) but the Doctor keeping a distance from Yaz while acknowledging her feelings was still rather intentional and thematically moving.

You learn you're this being known as "The Timeless Child" and you've lost innumerable lifetimes of memories while beings you encounter ON THE REGULAR are persistently trying to tear the universe like a chew toy for their pleasure? Sorry, love. Maybe attachment to a human isn't a wise choice after all...

It's a decision made in a moment and a moment is all Yaz & the Doctor have. It adds levels to the tragedy of a romance with such a being that can travel all of time and space.

"All of time and space but no room for me?"

-a line I may have written for Yaz before it was all over

🥹

Maybe I'll write some fan fiction one day around The Flux. Around 13 & Yaz. Maybe something with Karvanista & a version of the Doctor forgotten to time.

Anywho, I love this show. I love it for all it's many eras. I love it for many different reasons. I truly believe value can be had in finding those aspects of enjoyment even when one Doctor or one era speaks more to us individually because what does the opposite hold? What does boundless criticism of "the writing" ever truly amount to?

The internet is teeming with "expert opinions" on how Doctor Who should have been made after every new season but gods is it the rarest thing to find people who choose to love it for everything it has already been and everything it can always continue to be...

That's all from me for now, my lovelies. 💞 Take care, get a shift on, and snack on something that brings you a little joy. 🍪 Kisses.