#fuck it’s going to hurt so much when THAT gets animated

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 19

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, blood, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

EXTRA WARNING. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXTREME GORE AND VIOLENCE. DO NOT READ IF SENSITIVE TO THESE DESCRIPTIONS.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You kick with your good foot. The man deflects it easily. He chuckles. It’s like sand, gritty and dry. He hits your other foot so you shriek again and a surge of bile floods your throat. You swallow it back as you continue to thrash. 

The man crawls up your body as he wrestles with you. He grabs your wrists as you fight to resist him. He’s much too strong. As you bounce on the stiff mattress, a wash of futility overcomes you. It’s exactly like before, when it was another man on top of you. 

He chuckles as he brings your hands together and traps your arms in his grip. With his other hand, he reaches to his belt. He pulls free the snap on a sheath and slides free the long blade. You whine as you open and close your fingers desperately. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this. Please. I don’t know him. I’m not... not his. Please, just let me go,” you beg through your teeth. 

He’s only amused by your pleas. He twirls the knife in his hand and admires the groove in the silver. His dark eyes flick down to you and he smirks. 

“That man doesn’t know what suffering is,” he taunts. “You want to have some real fun...” 

He lowers the knife and traces across your collarbone. Your heart pounds and your breath clouds painfully in your chest. He hooks it under the left strap of your night gown and slices through. He does the same on the other side. 

He turns the knife the draws a slow line toward your throat. The skin splits around the metal and you cry out. He cackles and flicks it so it digs in a little deep. You kick the bed, huffing and howling with each throb of your injured foot. 

Adrenaline floods through you as you tug on your hands and write. This can’t happen. It can’t. You survived this far, you won’t go down without a fight. Even if it is a losing one. 

You manage to wrench a hand free. He slips and the knife cuts across your shoulder. You whine but ignore the gash. You twist and bite down on his sleeve. You pinch until you feel the firm muscle of his forearm. Tighter and tighter until you taste iron. 

The crack across your cheek has you reeling. You fall back against the bed and throw your hand out. You grab onto the blade of the knife, the metal searing your skin as blood seeps out around it. You squeeze and throw all your body weigh in the opposite direction. 

You dislodge the knife from his grip and it hits the bed. You don’t hesitate. You grab it with your other hand and swipe at him. It deflects off his body arm but leaves a tear in his sleeve. You swing again and let out a beastly snarl. You miss and he hits your hand so the blade flies from your grasp. 

You don’t care. You hit him. Over and over. Even if it doesn’t hurt. Even if it hurts you more. 

“Noooooo!” You shout, “no! Get off!!! Fuck off! Fuck you!!” 

You’re like an animal. All pain, all fear dissolves and there’s only one thing left. Survival.  

Your vision clears you see his grin. You hate him. You hurl your fist at him but before he can smack it away, he lurches backward. He flies off of you and hits the wall with a startling force. 

Another rasping breath blows through the room. Deep pants through nostrils as the soldier stands glaring at the intruder. His fists ball up as he steps closer to the dark-haired man. You dizzily sit up and watch as it all happens at a speed slower than reality. 

The other man raises himself on his knees but doesn’t make it further. The soldier, the captain, whoever, whatever he is, grabs him by the scruff and smashes his face into the walk. Bone mulches as the dark-haired man croaks and spits up crimson and ivory. 

The captain drags him by his neck as he searches the room. He finds the knife on the floor and throws the man onto his back. He plants his foot on his chest and looks at the blade. He turns his head to glance at you. His eyes are dilated and dull. 

He drops his chin to consider the man on the floor. He slips his foot off of him and falls to his knees. He straddles the man, knees on his arms to keep him from resisting, and he traces along the man’s hairline. The man roars and gnashes his teeth. 

The soldier continues the path around the man’s face until he’s sliced around cheekbone, jaw, and temples. He stabs the knife into the floor so it stands on its own. He runs his fingertips along the blood incision and you watch in horror as he peels the skin away from the bone. As he skins him with his hands alone, you cover your mouth and wretch. You can’t look away. 

You see every nasty detail. When the man has no face, his eyes are plucked out next with thumbs, crushed in fists, thrown down like gobs of chewed gum. Blood pours into his hair and down his neck. His breath is sickly and wet. 

Then the soldier strips him of his clothing. He shreds it with the knife but he destroys the man’s body with his hands. He breaks every finger, bending them back until they meet his hand. He twists his joints around until the crack and snap, he buries his nails into the skin until he can wrap his grip around his ribs and tear them out. 

The man’s blood stains the soldier. You see it slicken his black clothing, shining, stinking as the body of the intruder gurgles on the floor. The soldier doesn’t stop. Not even when he’s dead.  

You sit and watch him splitting sinew from bone, his eyes narrowed, almost hypnotised by the undoing of his enemy. You can’t take anymore. The smell of it, the sound, you can even taste it.  

You slide to the edge of the bed and stand. You whimper at the horrible pulsing in your foot. You hobble across the floor as the soldier is distracted in his work. You steel yourself and touch his shoulder. He winces as you lean on him but he doesn’t stop. 

His hands are red but with his blood as much as the man he murdered. He has cuts on his knuckles, a splintered bone juts out by his thumb. He doesn’t feel any of it. 

“You’re hurt,” you point and gulp back a wave of nausea. “Please, stop.” You bring your hand up to his chin and he finally stills. He lets you turn his head and he looks up at you. “If you don’t clean that, it will get worse.” 

He raises his hands and examines them. You tormented shoulder throbs and your foot radiates with heat. You gently touch his thick fingers.  

“Safe,” you say to him. “Like you said.” 

He stares at your hold on him then softly moves his hands to take yours instead. He stands as his pupils shrink. His eyes wander to your shoulder and the blood dripping down your chest. 

“We both need to clean up,” you look down. “Don’t we?” 

[beawake]

Random thoughts and immediate impressions of the first three episodes of tlovm3, an incoherent list

Pock o'pea wooden house at Gilmore's wannabe and taste of taldor'ei chalice thing

Did I mention the Gilmore wannabe? His distaste, amazing

Gilmore's displeasure at being dragged into Vox Machina's schemes, and still going along with it

My boy just wants to be home and run his shop, not babysit adventurers

Speaking about gilmore, Vex offering to flirt with the guards, gilmore saying he already tried

Gilmore, I'll hold them off, immediately gets caught. Yeah your adventuring days are behind you with running from highly efficient guards

Scanlan drinking courage

They are all so bad at communicating help!

Soo Draconia? Draconia.. *fingers guns* I forgot if they were there for real but they were there in spirit for sure

Percy looked so young in that scene, you would so often forget he's like 18 or 19 but not then

Kiki: but we kissed. When vax was saying they couldn't be together. It was so innocent and it hurt so much. Communicate dammit. And then cutting to Percy and Vex having sex nextdoor

They kept in Percy going for a talk and Vex opening the door naked!

Aah Cassandra and Percy as siblings, and Percy being so smitten

Kiki feeling so alone and unsupported

Scanlan ruining his relationship with his daughter even more cause he worries for his friends and then feeling unappreciated the cracks are there

The misunderstanding with Pike and Scanlan, oh that hurt, both trying to do their best but Pike not knowing how to fix it

Grog with the kids, being a detective, finding Percy

Percy giving himself up not feeling like he lied because he feels so responsible for all the dead the guns cause

Vex "I care for you so this can only be a fling or you'll get hurt"

Keyleth "so the joy of today is not worth the pain of tomorrow?"

J'mon Sa Ord is so fucking hot I want that character design

Allura and Kima 10/10 no notes these lesbians continue to slay

The banter, the one liners

The songs!!! Matt/Drenzel singing about the Ruby of the Sea

Scanlan singing about the Spice

Matt NPC do you spice? Does your daughter spice?

Scanlans vulnerability that he barely shows to his friends

It is so good, only a little disappointed about missing the cat/tiger demon going after Vax as Gilmore

Oh and I can't forget about Gilmores flirting with Vax

I just really love Gilmore

And how they are giving the NPC's bigger roles

Oh and Percy not knowing orthax's name, buddy? How?

Curious to see where that goes with Ripley, who is very cool

And the intro reminds me so much of anime intros and I love it, it is amazing

Things my friend noticed

J'mon Sa Ord and the creepily too big hands and feet, like trying for human and just missing the mark

Zerxus!!! Are we gonna see him all demon??? I am not ready

I might come up with more but first thoughts and excitements are here and good and there were a lot of changes but I don't mind any of them at the moment, I just trust that they love this as much as us and will go where needed

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Feeling Unwell

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)

WC: 1740

CW: Angst, illness, mentions of hospitals, satirical hatred of children, fluff, spencer being the best

a/n: Some fluff to bring you a brief intermission to your Kinktober readings.

Spencer Masterlist

The worst feeling in the world is waking up with a headache. 

Your head felt like a dance floor where ballerinas were doing their petit allegro warm ups, and there was no mercy. Every single sound filled your unopened eyes with fluff from a stuffed animal. 

The second worst feeling in the world was realizing that you couldn’t breathe through your nose, almost suffocating yourself from trying. 

“Maybe a tissue would help.” 

Not even opening your eyes, you use your hand to shove some part of your husband, playful, but grumpily. 

“Thanks, genius.” You grumbled, and curled further into yourself, yanking the blanket over with you. 

The man next to you let out a small, unserious, exclamation as the blanket that was once covering him was single-handedly yanked from his body. 

“Well good morning to you too.” 

You felt as he sat up, and properly woke up; most likely running his hands through his hair and putting on his glasses. 

Spencer then placed a hand on your hip, leaning over and kissing your head. “Morning baby.”

But before he could pull away, the heat coming off of your forehead was alarming, even to him. 

The feeling of his lips on your head was momentary bliss, even if it was psychosomatic. Anything Spencer did for you (or to you, if you know what I mean…) always felt good. Being cared for in a genuine way was a true testament to how much people can benefit from love: emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and yes, even physically. 

Spencer gently brushed aside some of the hair covering your temple, and kissed it again, this time with the full intent of taking your temperature. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Does your head hurt?” 

You snorted, but winced as you did, since you didn’t actually cause any sound. Your sinuses were so blocked up, that you ended up making your headache ten times worse.

And that was when the coughing started. 

Not being able to breathe through your nose meant that your chest already ached, but then all of a sudden you couldn’t breathe at all. Your ears both popped, and you could have sworn there was a constant ringing in your right ear. The coughing got worse before it got better, and it only got better because Spencer had jumped out of bed, run into the kitchen in just his briefs, and grabbed a glass of water for you to try and force down your throat. 

“Alright. We’re going to the doctors.” 

A moan of protest left your lips and as you moved to lay back down in the warmth of your own bed, where you could be unbothered by this random man who was insisting that you needed to get up, and go in public. 

“I know, I know baby.” He was now sitting on the edge of your side of the bed, and was running his thumb along your forehead. Your body involuntarily curled itself around his, and you sighed. 

“It’s like you hate me, and you want—”

A cough ripped through your sentence and your throat. 

If someone was walking by, they might have guessed that you were a chainsmoker of thirty years; a chimney of a woman. 

But, unfortunately, you had your guesses about where this mystery illness had come from. 

“Spence.” You managed to croak out. 

He hadn’t left your side, still rubbing his thumb across your head. “Yeah baby.” 

“I think that stupid twerp gave me his illness.” 

Spencer chuckled. “Who are you talking about?” 

“Remember…” You scooted impossibly closer to him, now able to rest your head on his thigh. “Remember that kid from the last case, the one who ended up having to go into the doctors because he was sick. I’d fucking…”

You paused, trying to catch your breath as you spoke. 

If you had to bet money, you’d place your entire net worth–plus your home and all your earthly possessions– that Spencer Reid was some sort of god from beyond comprehension since he was just sitting here, patiently waiting for you to finish your thought, even though it was taking you minutes to spit out one sentence. 

“He must’ve had some sort of stupid…stupid sickness. And I blame Hotch for making me be the one to sit with the kid.” 

Spencer hummed, a sign of support for your theory. 

“If that fucking kid gave me pneumonia or some shit—I’m gonna find him—”

“Alright there trigger happy.” He cut you off and kissed your head again. “I know it’s going to suck so much ass, but we need to go to urgent care because your cough and fever are really starting to worry me.”

“Who the hell even gets pneumonia in the summer anyways.” You grumbled to yourself, and you rolled onto your back, and slowly sat up; Spencer’s hand on your thigh the entire time. 

An anchor as your head sloshed around with illness. 

“I bet I look like a biblical depiction of famine.” 

That made Spencer crack a smile. 

“Glad you feel good enough to joke around about it.” 

“I actually feel like death. That kid’s made worms’ meat of me.” 

Spencer stood up, face filled with amusement. “Alright Shakespeare.”

You took his hand and slowly stood up. Eyes closed as the slight change in altitude made your eardrums pulse, and your head starts to spin. 

“Tomorrow you’ll find me a grave man.” You grumbled, leaning up against Spencer as the world decided to speed up its rotation by about a million. 

“I cannot believe you’re quoting Shakespeare at me while you can’t even stand up right now.” 

You cracked a smile, eyes still closed. “I’ve always liked Mercutio—a man making puns even as he’s dying—that’s my kinda guys.” 

After standing still, in silence, for the next two minutes, you were able to open your eyes and look over at Spencer. “I love you.” 

It was soft, but earnest. 

How lucky were you to have someone who just spent the past fifteen minutes patiently waiting by your side, to get you out of bed so he could take you to the doctors office because you weren’t feeling well. He could have just let you stew in bed, and take the day to be ill at your home. But instead, he sat with you, got you water when you almost died first thing in the morning, and now is your literal crutch as you move to the bathroom, so you could at least brush your teeth. 

You’ll be damned if you don’t at least brush your teeth before going out in public. 

The thought of it almost made you feel worse than what you were feeling now. 

You were awake enough that your body was starting to fight the illness in real time, meaning Spencer had left your side to quickly get dressed. 

He was back by your side a few minutes later, letting you take your time in the bathroom with your morning routine. In his hands was one of your favorite crewnecks to lounge around the house in, and the matching sweatpants. Snoopy around the ankle, and Snoopy and Woodstock across your chest. Something about the Peanuts characters being there made them a little bit comfier. 

“You’re going to deck me out in Snoopy to go to Urgent Care?” 

Spencer nodded and placed them on the counter. “If we end up being there for a while, you’d die in a pair of jeans. Don’t even try to pretend like you were going to put a bra on either” 

“How did a girl get so lucky?” You hummed, and leaned against him again. His arms wrapping around you as your body relaxed every so slightly.

“I have several degrees, including three Phds. That makes me a doctor, and as such, I’m educated well enough to know the perfect woman when I see her. Anyone who doesn’t agree with me, clearly doesn’t have the degree to back up their points.” 

You squeezed him briefly, before pulling away slightly, still encircled in his arms. “We;; Doctor Reid, I can’t argue with a professional. But I must say, your professional opinion is skewed.” 

Spencer kissed your head and shrugged. He went to say some sort of snarky rebuttal, but you interrupted him with yet another coughing fit. 

You had never been to the Sahara desert before, but you could assume this is what it felt like if you were in the middle of it and had accidentally swallowed gallons of sand while the driest wind passed through you. 

Spence just rubbed his hand along your back, waiting for the fit to end. 

Once it had, your body had started to lose some of the initial fervor you had managed to gain from waking up. “Spence, I think I need to just lay down for a while…”

“No.” He shook his head. “You have to put those clothes on and then we’re going to the doctor. I know you want to lay down babygirl, but the sooner we get you medicated, the better.” 

Then he started to talk about breakfast, and your stomach lurched. “The thought of food makes me want to die. It’s not happening right now.” 

Spencer went to speak but you cut him off. “Babe. I will get dressed, and we can go to the hospital, but I’m not hungry. I’m not going to eat, and you’re not going to force me because the thought makes me feel even worse. Deal?” 

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Deal Spence?” 

Spencer just looked at you, and his resolve crumbled a bit. This was your best effort as a compromise. Every single atom you were comprised of made you want to collapse to the ground and enjoy the feeling of no longer being upright. But you were trying for him. He just had to compromise. 

“Deal.” He sighed. “We’re leaving in five okay?” 

“Aye Aye captain.” You placed a kiss on his cheek, not wanting to spread whatever you had to his lungs, and grabbed your clothes. 

Eventually, when you later found out that the kid witness from the previous case had given you viral pneumonia, your resentment for the little twerp grew even more, even resulting in a statement that you were 

“Never going to fucking have kids ever.” 

The statement made Spencer laugh as the two of you drove back home, meds in hand, and fresh hatred of ‘snot nosed children’ in the air. 

[bookskiver]

Tmr characters in a minecraft server together:

Thomas and newt have a whole life going on, they have a little cottage they live together (they got from their shared pintrest board) with mass amounts of dogs and cats (all named and fed daily)

Gally is a menace bro no one likes him 💀 he is there to cause havoc. He griefs thomas and newts house every time hey annoy him irl (which is alot) usually burning it and does not give a fuck about the animals (newt and thomas have a whole graveyard for them and newt gets unironically mad when one of them dies)

Gally has an underground base in the mountains that no one knows about. He is LOADED bro he's got everything, but his base is ugly asf it's all just stone

Minho is the nicer version of gally he griefs thomas and newt but instead of fire he builds obsidian dicks all over their house

He just doesn't have a home 💀

He just uses whatever beds nearest, but for the most part, he's there for a fun time (he's also unironically scared of mobs but would never admit it)

Him and gally have a lot of bonding time bc they like to cause other people pain. But he will NEVER hurt their animals. If he burns their house, he will evacuate everyone 100%

Teresa, for some reason, knows how to make all potions from memory. She opens a cute little shop and trades items she needs for the potions she made

Surprisingly, no one steals from it. They all kinda respect her bc she knows stuff, and she doesn't ask for much in return, so she's happy with her little shop (also got her shop from pintrest)

She and brenda have a little deal where brenda goes and gets the difficult ingredients (usually in the nether bc teresa REFUSES to go there), and teresa makes the potions. Brenda gets to either have some of the profits or just take some potions if she needs

Brenda also doesn't have a home she's too busy carrying this server on her back

Chuck has lived in a dirt shack the ENITRE TIME and still uses stone tools

This is bc every time he tries to make a proper base FUCKING MINHO AND GALLY COME ALONG AND DESTROY IT 💀💀💀

justice for chuck man 😭

He leaves little signs around the server like 'have a nice day :))' that usually gets destroyed by gally. Teresa sometimes writes back tho

Alby is like a God in this server

He's a BEAST as redstone and has a whole empire going on

Not even gally tries to greif him. But a lot of people steal from him, the reason being he has so much stuff he doesn't even notice

But if he does they're kicked from the server (he's not playing around (he's also admin))

Frypan has a little bakery next to Teresa's potion shop :)

Sonya and Harriet live together in one of those connected houses if that makes sense

One of these bad boys ☝️☝️☝️(picture from pintrest)

Aris lives in their floor boards.

No one really bothers them and if they do Harriet is out for blood

Sorry this went on for so long I had alot of thoughts 😭 <33

[pigeonstab]

So, I actually managed 1005 words! which is like 250 more than i had before, yippee!!

I think some CWs are needed for this one, basically this is a bit of insight into Cross's childhood, he's probably around 13 here?

//CW vomiting & child abuse??// (lmk if there are any more needed)

Raindrops hit the car window, blurring the sight of the city lights behind the panes with a soft pattering sound. Cross was cold. The air was humid and he wanted to go home. Wherever that was.

The car ride had been spent in silence, as had all the other ones these past months. Cross kept himself entertained, watching flashes of light pass through the darkness of the car, observing as they shifted and bent with the shape of the seats or as they passed over his legs. He didn’t know if he could do this again, if he’d find the courage to. He wanted to say something though he knew he shouldn’t, protesting never got him anything but remarks and lectures.

He’d never been good at keeping his mouth shut.

“I don’t wanna go.” His throat felt tight and there was a growing pressure behind his eyes. he had to tell someone.

A heavy sigh came from the driver’s seat and Cross winced “And I don’t wanna hear it Cross. This is your third placement in three months. You know how these things go.” her tone stayed stern and cold. He didn’t know why he ever tried. A beat passed “You know if you would just behave–”

“I know” he snapped at her, holding his brow, a low growl building in his throat.

“See? This is exactly what I mean!”

“Oh, fuck off!” He knew he’d made a mistake as soon as the words left him.

The car came to an abrupt stop at the red light and Cross flinched when she twisted around to face him, her face contorted with rage, pointing an accusing finger in his face.

“I’m doing this for you, you know that right?” She started “I’m driving you there but if you wanna be like that, you can get out of the car and walk your stuff to the new house. And then you could do the introductions and explain all that’s wrong with you. Since you like talking so much. Is that what you want? Huh?”

Cross stayed quiet, curling up on himself. He knew this was a shit idea anyway. She never listened. Tears ran down his cheeks as he kept his eyes glued to the floor. “’m sorry..”

She merely scoffed, turning back to the road as the light turned green. “And stop crying.”

–––––––––––––––––––

Now, Cross stood quietly, his backpack in hand, and in it all his meager belongings. He cringed as his social worker rung the doorbell of the new house.

The door opened, blinding Cross with the warm light coming from inside. He felt like he could cry again. Wanting nothing more than to go back to the car.

His social worker greeted the man at the door, a smile plastered on her face that she only used when talking to the foster parents. Cross was disgusted at her hypocrisy. This house would be just like the other ones, they’d act nice for a bit while he was quiet and docile and then at the first sign of resistance they’d realize he’s nothing but a wild animal, ‘a problem child’. Once he snaps at them, once he’s not just a way to give them good conscience. He hated them already, he hated this.

He wanted out. He liked it better with Epic. He should’ve stayed with him.

“Cross, are you coming?” He was pulled from of his thoughts as she called him inside. She’d already told his new foster parents about the protocol for his shifts, he knew because the man he’d seen earlier was holding a vial of wolfsbane in his hand. He shuddered, it was rare when foster parents let him spend full moons without sedation. He didn’t like the way they looked at him.

Like they were nice, like they weren’t going to hurt him. Cross hoped they’d let him keep his books. Maybe they wouldn’t be as bad as the last ones.

–––––––––––––––––––

Cross knew this placement had been a bad idea. He panted and whined as he struggled against the silver shackles attaching him to the basement radiator, his arms were pulled back uncomfortably and the silver was burning him, he could hear his own flesh start to sizzle.

He’d been annoying, he knew he’d been bad, but he didn’t think they’d even keep him around long enough to deal with a full moon. They’d laced his water with wolfsbane at dinner. Of course that wouldn’t be a problem if only they hadn’t put this much. It wasn’t his usual dose and he could feel his body rejecting it, his stomach clenched and he tried his best to fight it as he gagged, his diaphragm working to expel the poison from his metabolism, his chest heaved and Cross retched, only slightly purple tinted bile left him as he sobbed.

Everything was aching, his limbs weren’t responding and he felt sluggish, his senses held in a panicked torpor. He didn’t know how long he’d been crying, his wrists feel raw and chaffed. He felt his body forcing itself into a different shape as the full moon rose and illuminated the basement through a small window, his mind stuck in an exhausting loop of unfinished thoughts and panic, and he howled in pain as the first cracks rang out and echoed in the basement.

The smell of blood permeated the air. he couldn’t think. The poison left him immobile, save for the slight shivering that wracked his small furry form. Cross wanted out.

Closing his eyes and letting his tired mind drift off, he thought of green grass and cool air, the sound of the leaves rustling with the wind, feeling his paws hit the earth with each bound, wind rushing past him, ruffling his fur, it was enough to satiate the instincts clawing at the back of his head. And in the morning he’d wake up wishing he hadn’t. But for now, hurting and laying on cold damp concrete floor, hidden back into the retreat of his mind, he felt calmer.

[the-derpy-duck]

Tf one! Tf one! Tf one!

Gonna spoil everything please go watch the movie it’s the greatest transformers movie ever made go watch it I need a sequel please go watch it it is 100% worth it 10/10

Hey so like this movie is really fucking funny? Bumblebee is actually just insane and he’s so caring and I love him. He’s my cringy little boy who has never talked to anyone ever. He lives in the dumpster. Elita one is also funny. She’s so fucking done with dumbasses 1-3. Although the part where everyone was like ‘hey follow protocol’ when not following protocol means Jazz gets to live was a bit crazy. But it makes sense and Optimus going back for Jazz really just makes his chances of dying with him much higher. But it’s Jazz. We all love Jazz. No one wants to see Jazz get crushed. Look at him at the end of the movie he’s so happy to have his little wings he’s Jazzzzz.

If the high I felt from watching this movie is half of what people get from ecstasy then I totally get why people would do it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that much joy in that little amount of time. I could not sit still. My chest actually hurt. It was amazing. I was able to recognize characters and I was just like ‘JAZZ! JAZZ! WAIT IS THAT RATCHET? PROWL? SIDESWIPE AND SUNSTREAKER????? YESSS! ARCEE!! SKYWARP! RARARARARARA’ and I understand that I am weird for this. But it was so much fun. And I was laughing and getting upset with the characters. And the animation is so good and cybertron is soooo pretty. I love the deer and although the quintsons are a minor part of this movie I think they’ll play a much bigger role in the sequel that’s hopefully coming. I want to see more of the characters. I want to see how Megatron will interact with the other decepticons. I want skywarp to get more lines (I’m 99% sure that he was the guy who said ‘what’ when Optimus said ‘we roll out’). I want to see how the other autobots interact. I want to see Sunstreaker do literally anything. I want to see more of this story and more of this world.

D16 is great. I really like him and I like how pissed he is at Orion and how he snaps. Orion pushed him into a lot of situations he really didn’t want to be in and he’s done saving Orion. And like. He’s also not really wrong about killing Sentinel. Like killing is inherently inhumane, but if it is the only way to preserve life then it is justifiably inhumane. And realistically, what else would they have done with him? He clearly has some backing from a guard of some sorts and connections to the quintisons, so he could ruin everyone’s lives again. The way he died was extra and there’s definitely a better way to kill him (“morally” speaking. There’s not a humane way to kill a persons outside of extreme circumstances, but some ways are definitely worse than others). But his death was also so cool. Like I was expecting Megatron to just shoot him but holy shit that was brutal. Also this is me being a little silly goose but I don’t think that his eyes are literally changing colors. I think the story is being told mainly through Optimus’s perspective, and the eye color shifting is metaphorical. The yellow to orange is a lot more subtle than the orange to red. When his eye color changes it’s not just when he’s changing (which is definitely also apart of it I think) but specifically when Optimus realizes that the change has occurred. Yellow and Blue and Orange and Blue also complement each other. Red and Blue are a bit more jarring when put next to each other imo. Like it’s based on nothing but my own weird little mind. But anyways, I don’t think Optimus jumped in front of sentinel because he gave a shit about sentinel. I think he jumps in front of Megatron’s gun because he desperately needs to save his friend. But it’s too late and they are now both unrecognizable to each other. Suddenly getting power and being suppressed his entire life coupled with sentinel’s betrayal caused D16 to snap. His entire life was a lie and a person he looked up to turned out to be the biggest piece of shit on cybertron. Also a thing I found really interesting was that the high guard/future decepticons chanted D16’s name when he was beating the shit out of starscream whereas with Orion the miners/future autobots changed his name after he gave a speech and was literally kneeling to be on their level.

Sentinel prime was really fun. I predicted that he would be revealed as a traitor entirely because he’s Sentinel. But it was still fun to see it happen. Also he’s beautiful. This is the best he has ever looked. The colors look great next to each other and the wings go hard. He’s very one dimensional but he makes the other characters around him have more dimensions because he’s so simple. And he doesn’t need to be complex. Keep It Simple Stupid. The movie is less than two hours long, it doesn’t need to reinvent the wheel. It knows how to use the wheel and it uses it great. Sentinel is an asshole and I really like him. The version of him that I have in my head is very different but I like asshole sentinel. Tfa Sentinel is great. Tf One Sentinel is great. I hope they both die <3

Also when D16 saw megatronus’s head? Amazing. Both of his hero’s (sentinel and Megatronus) died in that cave, literally and metaphorically. And the fact that this happened in a cave reminds of that one metaphor some dead guy came up with. Basically there’s these prisoners who are forced to stay in a cave and I think they might be tied upside down but one of them is able to leave the cave and discovers that there is more to the world than the cave and that they have also been upside down. When he tried to relay this to his friends they declare him to be a liar. It’s a basic little thing about discovering the truth or whatever I can’t articulate it very well. But that was Megatron’s cave moment. His entire life was a lie. He is existing the cave and he will never be the same. Was TF One actually just refrencing this? Probably not. BUT WAIT! The Cybertronians live underground, so that’s technically a cave. Everyone who is living in the underground city and who don’t go to the surface are in the dark. ITS THE CAVE AGAIN! AT THE END OF THE MOVIE THEY ARE ALL THAT THE SURFACE! THEY ALL LEFT THE CAVE!! I’m loosing my fucking mind if you couldn’t tell. Also the minors go into caves and they very much love sentinel. cave Cave CAVE

Starscream is really cool. We haven’t seen enough of him to get a gage on his morality or how big of a traitor he’ll be, but what’s been shown is really great. His motivations for challenging and goading D16 are unclear. Like he might be a masochist but probably not. Maybe he wants him to be the new leader. I wished that we saw more of screamer but what we got was pretty great. And I hope he gets to play a more major role in future movies. As well as soundwave and shockwave because although shockwave was really funny they unfortunately didn’t get to do much.

This version of Elita kicks ass. Scarlett Johansson does an excellent job of voicing her. Although it would have been funny if she voiced Arachnid. But she’s so cool and also funny. I loved when she told Orion that she was better than him at everything but having optimism. Her ripping off Arachnid’s leg and using it to beat her was fucking awesome. ‘I’m being gentle!’ I love her so much she’s so funny. Her anger towards being demoted motivating her to go along with the three idiots was good. I want to see more of her in general and I want to see how her dynamic with Optimus will change in the next movie. Like ‘next movie’ might not happen but I’m really hoping that it does. But even if it doesn’t the film is still amazing.

Chris Hemsworth does a great job voicing Optimus. I was really surprised and impressed. Like low key I was sort of expecting this to be a Chris Pratt Mario situation when I first heard he would be OP’s VA because I only knew him from the Marvel movies. But he does a great job. Bryan Tyree Henry does an excellent job voicing D16/Megatron. Like he might be my favorite Megatron voice. Like I love Scottish Megatron but this voice is soooo good. Every voice actor does a phenomenal job.

The animation is amazing. I love the backgrounds and the bridges that just appear. The surface of cybertron is so pretty and I love the general aesthetic. The fight scenes are so well done. They utilize transformations in the fight (like Optimus retracting his head like a turtle to dodge attacks) and that’s super cool! The facial expressions are also really good. When Optimus is telling Megatron to leave he looks so sad and it looks so real. These characters are all really expressive, including the background ones. Like I’ve seen a lot of redraws of Jazz looking at his wings and being all happy. Each background character looks unique and there are a lot of cameos and it was so much fun to look at them. A lot of love and effort was clearly put into this movie and it really shows. The eyes are so pretty, the backgrounds are so pretty, the characters become so shiny.

It’s a great movie and I think everyone should go watch it. I need this film to get a sequel.

[sigilslvt]

Love & Lies • Toji Fushiguro

☣︎ Summary: You were once a horseback rider that people would kill to have on their tracks knowing they'd make good money betting on you. Things change, however, when a certain assassin with a gambling problem comes into your life.

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

Tags: fem! reader, ex boyfriend! toji, light angst, mentions of gambling, mention of animal death, manipulation, smut, brief oral sex (f receiving), p in v, creampie

WC: 2.7k

Art: arokushisu_11 on Twitter!

A/N: I would genuinely let this man drain my bank account as long as he fucks me like this immediately after, I'm not sorry.

I can fix him.

You had always made fun of women that claimed they could fix toxic or abusive men. Until you became one of them. Five years you’ve been with Toji. Five years you’ve been dealing with his addiction. You’d be fine if he was addicted to porn or collectibles or something, but no… gambling is his vice.

At first, it wasn’t a big deal, you met him at a horse race, after all. Being a rider, you knew people liked to bet. You thought he was a casual gambler when he was chatting you up to give you some sort of confidence boost because he had placed his bet on you. When you won, he called you his lucky charm and you fell for it. Instantly.

It wasn’t long before you started dating and you winning became less about luck and more about him running you and your horse ragged to make sure that you’d win when he bet on you. You’re still not sure if he was doing it because he just wanted to make big bucks off you or if he just genuinely thought he was helping and giving you motivation when he had you and Shiloh on the track constantly practicing. He claimed to love you, so there’s no way you were just a tool to him, right? Wrong.

Because here you are, two years after quitting because Shiloh broke her leg and had to pass over the rainbow bridge, and your relationship has deteriorated entirely. You no longer spend time together outside of him coming to lay in you guys’ bed at night. It’s become a circle of lies, loss, anger, apologies, and makeup sex. It never fails. He tells you he’s going to change, then he leaves after taking a job only to come back with no money to show for it. Of course, he knows that you wait at the track whenever he’s away for jobs, so he’s switched up his methods. Started betting on boat races, car races, you name it. It makes no difference to him as long as there’s the thrill of the gamble.

Every time it would happen, you’d tell him you were done. You’d scream and shout while he apologized, pleaded, and begged for you to stay after claiming he’d get help from one of the numerous places you’d called for him. Used Megumi as a way to manipulate you into staying by telling you his son loves you oh so much. It’d soften your resolve enough for him to touch you in all the right ways that’d make you forget just how angry you’d been. Fuck you stupid enough to believe him when he’d say he’d change.

This time is different. This time, after getting the notification that thirty million yen had been taken from your personal bank account, you pack your bags instantly. You don’t wait for him to get home, you simply write a note for Megu and disappear after changing your bank, phone number, and social media. You can thank him for one thing after all of this and that’s teaching you how to scrub your existence entirely. You do it well.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

It’s been three years since then and you’ve moved out of the city, to the countryside. You’ve managed to live a peaceful life after regaining your funds, buying a small farm and a few horses. You’re happy. You miss Megumi, still. So so much. It’s taken everything in you not to contact Toji just to hear Megumi’s sweet voice again. He’s eight now, old enough to know you’ve gone and likely won’t see him again. You wonder if he misses you. If you hurt him by leaving.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock on your door. You brush yourself off, pulling your shorts down so your ass is better covered, and prepare yourself for your horseback riding lesson appointment. It’s the way you’ve been making a living lately, which you’re grateful for, because you get to do what you love and watch others grow to love it, too.

When you walk to your door, you get an uneasy feeling. One that makes you feel like you’re on a rollercoaster about to drop. You push it down and open the door only to see exactly why you were feeling that way. Your breath escapes you and you look up to see none other than Toji. Thankfully, your body reacts before you can even think to and you start to close the door, but his large hand stops it and you know you won’t be able to physically stop him, so you don’t bother to try and force it.

“Please. Please don’t.” Is all you say and his expression contorts into one of regret and sadness. You look away, knowing he’s not going to do anything but try to break you down and you can’t let him. You won’t.

“Just hear me out, doll. I swear I’ll leave if you tell me to leave after, but I just need to… I have to… fuck, I had everythin’ rehearsed, but seein’ you lookin’ more beautiful than when you left, I lost it all. Just give me a few minutes, please?” He asks, fidgeting and shifting on his feet. You’ve never seen Toji like this before. He was always sure of himself, always ten steps ahead, always confident. But the way he’s acting now isn’t even how he would act when he was trying to get you to stay with him.

You can’t find it in you to speak, but you nod, moving away from your door frame so he can step in. When he does, you close the door behind you and lean against it, taking a moment to take a deep breath. Your feet carry you forward to walk in front of him, leading him to the kitchen and pulling a chair out for him. Instead of sitting, you lean against your counter with your arms crossed as if they’ll help your emotional defense. “What is it, To…? After all this time, what could you possibly have to say to me?”

“I… you left.” He says, rather plainly. As if he’s still shocked you did it. You nod, gesturing for him to continue. “You left and I didn’t get to say goodbye. Didn’t know if somethin’ happened to you, I-I thought someone with a grudge might’ve… I thought the worst, doll. It wasn’t till I saw the note you left Megumi under his pillow that I knew you left. I… why didn’t you at least leave me a note? Would that have killed you? Did our love not mean enough to you? I–”

“Stop. Don’t do that, don’t say that. Our love was everything to me. It wasn’t enough for you, though. Not enough for you to stop gambling so much that you drained even my money. I left without saying anything to you because I meant nothing more to you than being your lucky charm when I was racing for your wins. Don’t act like I did.” You spit, so enraged that you stand up and walk to him, bending down to get face to face with him.

There it is. That expression you were so used to seeing whenever he’d come home pissed from losing his money. “You think I didn’t fuckin’ love you? You think I was just, what? Keeping you around for shits and fuckin’ giggles? I love you so fuckin’ much. I tried to stop! I tried to live a straight life, I did! But every time I came home to see you so sad, so fuckin’ miserable, I broke down more and more. I didn’t know that I needed to do more than just fuckin’ quit. Didn’t know that there was more to a relationship than just providing. But, I know that now. I know that you and I can do this, I can make you happy, doll, just let me make you happy.” He pleads, the anger dissipating with every word he says, leaving only the look of a broken, desperate man.

“No. No, I won’t risk my happiness by allowing myself to fall for this shit again, Toji. I’m glad you figured out how to make a relationship work, I figured as much after seeing your girlfriend’s po–” You stop yourself, swallowing your words.

“You’ve been checkin’ in on me?” He asks and his voice is so hopeful that you feel a familiar crack in your resolve form. “Sh-she wasn’t my girl, she isn’t. I know what it looks like, but I haven’t committed, not since you, I-I can’t. Everytime I… no matter what whore I’m inside of, all I can see is YOU, doll. It’s always your fuckin’ face. It’s your name I moan, I… please. Please, baby, I’ll get help. I miss you, I need you, there’s no one else for me in this fucked up world. I know I took advantage of your patience and I know I don’t deserve you , but I’m askin’ anyway. One more chance. Just one.” He says, getting on his knees in front of you– something you’ve never seen him do during any of his episodes before.

You feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes and you look up, trying not to look at the man you can’t help but admit you still love. His hands find your thighs and his head rests against one, his arms snaking around you. “Please…” He lets the broken word out of his scarred lips before he begins to kiss your bare skin, smelling you in between kisses. “Please, doll… need you…” He keeps going when you don’t stop him, your legs beginning to tremble. His hands grip the back of your thighs tightly and he groans as his face lifts up to your clothed cunt, pressing a kiss to it and making your hips buck. “Tell me this ‘s okay, baby…” He says, emphasizing what he means by kissing you there again.

Your lip trembles and you shake your head, your fingers sliding into his hair and pulling his head away from you, making him look up at you. “You need to get help, To… that’s the only way this will-”

“You got it, babe.” He says before you can finish, immediately going back to your thighs, licking a strip up one of them. “M’gonna fuckin’ worship you like I should’ve.” He growls, wasting no time and hooking his fingers into the back of your shorts, pulling them down your legs roughly. You’re about to step out of them, but he stands up and picks you up, putting you on the table and spreading your legs for you.

You cover your face, not having been put on a display like this in so long, but he rips your hands from you immediately, slotting his lips onto yours. The texture of the scar on his lips was something you sorely missed and you nip at his bottom lip, his hips rutting against yours in response, his erection pressing painfully hard against your core. “Mmph, To…” You whimper out before he nods.

“Got you, princess. Lemme do my thing.” He chuckles, kissing down your jaw, then your neck, along your collarbone, and lastly over your chest before he grabs your tank top and pulls it down under your breasts, groaning when they spill out. His lips attach to one and fingers to the other, his slimy muscle working on your nipple within his mouth with a vengeance. Your back arches up off the table and your head falls off of it with a loud moan. He repeats the action on your other breast before moving to kiss below your navel and then your pelvis.

You roll your hips up, trying to get him to bury his head between your thighs already when a large hand pushes you back down on the table. “What’d I say, hmm?” He asks, making you groan and roll your eyes, needy for him. “Bad girl. Such a fuckin’ bad girl.” He hisses before he gives you an inkling of what you want, swiping his tongue between your clothed folds, making you jerk in response. He pulls your underwear to the side with one finger, smelling your slick, his eyes rolling back into his head as he does so.

“Tojiiii, stop!” You beg, embarrassed at how fucking nasty he can be with you. He doesn’t listen, of course, instead immediately plunging his tongue into your waiting hole, making sure to rub his nose against your clit as he moves his face side to side, moaning at your taste. You grip his hair again, your other hand grasping and massaging your breast like the added stimulation will help to alleviate the pressure he’s creating by teasing you. “Please… more…” You beg, breathing quickening as he continues to tongue fuck you.

“F’give me for wanting to enjoy you a bit more, princess. But, since you asked so cutely, I’ll give ya what ya want.” He hums, kissing your clit just once and standing. His hands immediately work to rid himself of his pants and boxers, gripping his fat cock and smacking it against your slippery folds. You look down at it and it looks angry, red and dripping precum from the tip. He smirks seeing your reaction, continuing to wet himself with your slick as he grunts. The second you give him what he wants– a needy whimper, he sheathes himself inside you.

Your pussy flutters and clamps down on his cock immediately, earning a long groan from him as he bottoms out. “Heh. She missed me, huh?” He asks, making you nod and blush. That’s enough of a response for him and he wastes no time flushing his body against yours, rutting into you with a force that only he’s capable of. His thick cock bullies your gummy walls, stretching you around him so deliciously that you can’t form any coherent thoughts or words, really. “Love you s’fuckin’ much, princess. Never letting you go again, n-ugh- never. All mine, y’r all fuckin’ mine.” He grunts out, fucking into you even harder, your table creaking beneath you.

“L-Love you, Toji! Love you s’much, s’deep! ‘M all yours!” You cry out, hands slithering up his shirt and raking your nails down his back violently, but you know he can take it. It only riles him up more. His hands move down to grab your thighs, folding your legs up so he can get in at an angle, kissing you as his tip turns your cervix to mush.

“Still as fuckin’ tight as the day you left, doll.” He growls between kisses and you feel your cunt clamp down harder on him, twitching. “Oh? Gonna cum?” He asks, sitting up, slowing down and rolling his hips against you roughly, purposely delaying your orgasm. “Tell me, princess… tell me you love me one more time and I’ll let you cum.” He hisses out, the slow, deep thrusts doing a number on him, too.

“Love you! Fuck, please!” You beg, trying to fuck yourself on his cock to get yourself all the way there.

“Mmm mm, you know what I wanna hear.” He delivers a punishing thrust into you once before continuing the slow and rough pace.

“I love you, T-Toji! I love you s’much, I’m all yours!” You moan out, earning a satisfied moan from him, his head falling back as he speeds up churning your gummy insides out with his cock like his life depends on it, the table now making concerning noises beneath you as he brings you to your peak and your orgasm washes away everything from your mind, your mouth falling open as you cry out and cum. A creamy ring forms at the base of his cock while your cunt clamps down so hard on him that he can barely continue to thrust, which pushes him over the edge.

“Nngh, fuck!” He groans, using all his strength to pull out and plunge back into you while he cums, the force of his thrust so hard that the table breaks beneath you and you both fall with it. He doesn’t bother to pull out, chuckling as he moves your hair from your face, kissing your forehead while you both try to catch your breath. “Missed you so much, doll.” He coos, his eyes so loving that you feel you’ll melt.

“I missed you, too, To… don’t let me down again. Please…” You breathe out and he nods.

“Never again. I promise.”

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

choke the girl to get her: rosquez [e]

There it is—a faint little shiver running the length of his body, a sheen of silvery sweat pooling on his throat, Marc’s spit-shiny lips falling open, slack with hunger. His eyes are keen, electric, pinning Vale in place.

Another man would’ve gone for plausible deniability.

Lights off. Hidden faces.

Marc, ever the psycho, digs his nails into Vale’s hip hard, thumb splayed over his tattoo. He hisses at the scraped raw flash of pain—of course there’d be pain—and jerks against the cradle of Marc’s thighs.

The heat is obscene. Marc had always run hot, he remembers, but inside him is disorienting, scrambles all of Vale’s thoughts. He fumbles for coherency first, his tongue coarse and thick and slow, and decides against speaking altogether. Pants wetly instead, shaking with the struggle of not moving. Much. Someone needs to be careful, and it’s not going to be Marc.

He leans forward. Marc’s fucking eyes are still on him, so Vale grabs the hair on his nape and pulls—tips his head back to suck a mark on the hinge of his jaw.

Marc goes tighter around him. Feverishly sweltering. Vale grunts and flinches, a minute, knife-to-the-guts sway that gets him deeper inside. The room around him blurs.

“Can you just,” Marc breaks off, frustrated, jolting against his grip.

Both his hands grab Vale’s waist, and his legs lock in around the back of his own. He wrangles Vale like his bike—moves him and uses him. Each time he’s made to fuck in is tiny and torturous. Marc’s chest heaves with breath, his brow furrowed. He might as well be having a religious experience, Saint Teresa with her angel, being cleaved open with a flaming arrow.

Vale bites on the jut of his collarbone, leashing back a searing whine. He has of couple of inches on Marc—in Marc, ha—and it doesn’t matter. If Vale manhandles him, it only happens because he wants that. Not a revelation, but it still lands like out-breaking himself into the gravel, that Marc lets Vale play with him marionette-style. He scrabbles for air. For the fleeting string of his sanity.

“You can’t take it easy once in your fucking life,” Vale bites out, strained.

Marc had been tense around his fingers, expression guarded and laser-focused. Is tense now, around his cock, skirting the edge of hurt—he has a strangle hold on Vale’s nerves and gets mean with it.

There’s a laugh, dizzy, punch-drunk. “You always knew that,” Marc states.

And so what?

Vale huffs. He rubs Marc’s quivering sides, moves in gentle ripples. Tries to make him unclench. Tentatively, one of his fingers slides down the V of his stomach to settle over Marc’s hole, where he’s spread wide and obscene, rubbing against his sensitive dick as he pushes in.

He’s gentle there too. Keeps it slow and featherlight even through the pound of blood in his ears.

Marc relaxes a fraction. The wobble of his frankly indecent mouth goes from voyeuristic PT/self-martyrdom video to sex. Vale wants to freeze that moment—then feels magnificently stupid and shoves the hard wash of sentimentality away. Focuses on the dirty grind against Marc’s ass.

The light in Marc’s eyes is ardent, dangerous. He strikes out like a wild animal and grabs Vale’s other wrist—his bones creak with the strength on that hold. There’s a flash of white—his teeth—before he brings it to his face and presses a kiss on the soft, fragile skin there. Vale watches. Can’t tear his gaze away. His heart is an erratic, arrhythmic hum inside his chest.

And suddenly it spikes.

Marc oh so slowly puts Vale’s hand around his neck. A strangled thing pours out of him, and there must be a line between his prickling palm to the throb in his cock. His vision narrows down to this, only this, only ever this. He feels like he was wired wrong. And he remembers—

“You fucked me better when you were angry, Valentino,” he says, saccharine with viciousness, and swallows. Vale tracks the flow of his throat with his fingertips.

“Christ,” Vale manages to spit out, shivering. And then:

“Fine, fine.” He aims for magnanimous and misses by a mile, words pried laboriously from him. “We do it your way.”

They’re historically good at making it hurt. This—this toothless, age-worn version of them, skirting around old wounds, honey-sinuous—is pretty new. Awkward.

Vale gets Marc’s thigh over his shoulder. Bends him in half and spreads him wide. The vision he makes is cheap and sweet-sticky and—shit. His thrusts pick up, the noise of skin-on-skin deafening in the shrinking room. Marc tips his head back as far as he can, a moan caught on his tongue, lashes fluttering madly over his cheeks. Handsome. Because of course he is.

That never changed.

His hand flexes once around his throat. Just a flicker, a promise. Marc’s eyes widen, and he freezes. Like this, he looks younger. A lot more reckless. Vale needs to stop thinking about it.

When he squeezes, Marc’s spine arches off the bed, chasing that harm with a wild-eyed, sloppy dizziness. He spills a noise that’s half plea and half grunt. Vale is hyperaware of every single one of his knuckles, of the strength cording his arm. Marc isn’t.

Despite that, he holds on to Vale’s elbow and—

Marc shoves back against him—scratches him, the bite of his nails fiery, and bucks riotously —until Vale grows cruel with the choking. Holds on, going cold and burning as Marc starts writhing, his eyes huge, chest heaving convulsively. The space between them reeks of this ugly, cleaved-open desperation.

Once he lets go, they lick into each other’s mouths, graceless, starving, no pretense to hide behind.

Sex with Marc has always—

The first time they did this was in Motegi, maybe, he thinks frantically, unable to resist choking Marc again, lost in a helpless undercurrent of bitterness he’d tried to curb for the span of tonight. Vale had gotten pole, but Marc shrugged—smiled shark-like, unapologetic, the same old tune of 2016—and said I’ll get you anyway. I’m winning my fifth.

His head goes taffy thick. The next memory is him pressing Marc against the door of his motorhome, his bottom lip stinging and bleeding and staining them both red, his hand like iron on that neck, squeezing hard.

Vale wishes it weren’t so easy to hurt Marc.

(Wishes Marc didn’t chase it so much.)

“Can you save the guilt trip for later?” Marc hisses, his voice wrecked to hell already, the shape of Vale’s violence engraved on his golden skin. It’s a mind fuck, how much he wants to tear him apart, squeeze enough to have Marc crying, begging.

His stomach swoops. He’s so close to coming his vision starts to blur.

Marc’s mouth—infuriating, insolent—is still bent around the next complaint. The next needle he’s going to shove under Vale’s skin. He reaches blindly for his cock so he won’t. Brash displeasure stutters, and his face fractures and softens with an unfiltered, unguarded desire. Whatever he manages is a jumble of fluid Spanish that crashes around Vale like Kingdom come.

Time sloshes around them, a frizz of champagne. Marc eases finally now that Vale has one hand on his dick and the other pressing down on his airway. Sinks into sensation and sighs.

When he comes, he does so with a flutter of a wrecked sound, barely anything, struggling for breath. His stomach trembles, his legs too, and the stark white coating his flushed dark cock and his tanned abs makes Vale ache to lick it up.

Marc is scorching hot on his dick, a delirium, and Vale’s thoughts tangle around nothing, finding no purchase—look at you and Jesus Christ and fuckfuckfuck.

He lets go of Marc to brace himself on the bed. Buries something that tastes an awful lot like I love you with a bite on the swell of his pecs, the imprint of his teeth rose red. Marc makes him cruel, but even that loses focus, sharp edges dulled with an afterglow, with the frenetic haze of Vale’s building orgasm. He’d cut this out piece by piece, scrubbed himself raw to forget—

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

The last ten years flash technicolor before Vale, and the marks on Marc’s neck too. He comes with a jerky shudder that zaps through his entire body. His bones go liquid, and the world trickles around him, along him, spotted dark. Vale distantly hears a keening groan that must come from himself.

In the quiet that follows, Marc blinks at him, bleary and tired and unworried. Tucks his head under his chin. They’re sticking together—sweat, come, over a decade of knowing. Vale holds him close with an arm over his shoulders, skimming over the knobs of Marc’s spine, and it’s almost like they were never hard on each other.

[hauntingblue]

Gear 5 luffy's laugh is so contagious I just hear the drums and go insane how does this work. What did he do to me

[bootyful-seventeen]

Okay maybe it’s my frontal lobe developing on speed run rn but a lot of English speaking subbed anime fans are saying some ableist ass shit when talking about how much they hate dubbed anime

[piplupod]

feels like the isolation is a gushing wound and going to the centre is just a small bandage. i think perhaps i am not really ever going to feel okay unless something miraculous happens. i am retaining some semblance of sanity now that I'm leaving the house and socializing with non-family more than once a week, but i am still hurting more than I can really tolerate and I don't know what to do about it. there doesn't seem to be a fix for this that I can enact.

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

god its 1am i cannot be doing this

[skitskatdacat63]

I wish AI images didn't make me so intensely upset. Just the existence of them bothers me a lot, because it's just clutter without meaning or emotion or any genuineness. But recently something happened that made me very upset, and I feel so irrational saying this, but it really gave me this sick, heart-wrenching feeling, and I wish it would stop. My mom was looking through Facebook, and showed me this image of birds that to me was so obviously AI. But she wasn't 100% sure it was fake, only telling me after I had told her it was definitely AI, that she had been a bit unsure about it.

I hate how intense my feelings are about it, bcs it made me want to irrationally almost infantalize her without meaning to. It just made me overwhelmingly sad that this is state of things. That people are being fed this imitation, this trash, and aren't familiar enough to recognize it all the time. Every time I think about it, it hurts my chest.

[the-knife-consumer]

One thing I really like is the idea that springbonnie hates William just as much as William has (probably) grown to hate it.

[orcelito]

Gencon is very busy...!!!

Ummmmm highlights of the day..!!!

I maybe bought 4 Naruto figurines. Thankfully not individually expensive (though perhaps a little expensive all together...) see I wanted Sasuke but I also wanted Kakashi and I couldn't have Sasuke without Naruto and well it would feel wrong to have the 3 of them without Sakura and so I somehow. Got all 4. Haha. I'll most likely post pics later, whenever I end up opening them. I'm still at the convention center rn lol

(Putting the rest of this under a cut bc it got a little long lol)

I was on the field of the Lucas Oil Stadium, aka the stadium that the Indianapolis Colts play at. I've attended all of One game here (not professional football, it was a high school game lol) so I've felt the size of it, but it's still fucking crazy being on the field. It's so BIG...... and obviously they've got the grass covered rn, but it's still pretty cool!!!

I maaaade dice!!! Pretty precise process it seems, & definitely would require a Lot of work (after the sanding and the painting etc etc). I do still wanna get into it, but if I wanted to spring for stuff like the vacuum chamber or the pressure pot...

Yeah, it'd get expensive. Add in the fact that I don't have a good place to do this away from the cats & it really is not feasible to start rn. But!!! Eventually!!!! I think I'd really enjoy it. I just need a dedicated workshop space where I can spread out without worrying about poisoning my cats lol.

Here's some cool game set stuff I saw in the event hall. This picture is maybe... hm... a fourth of the event hall? And then when you consider that the vender hall (connected to the event hall, though it's closed right now) is maybe 1.5 times as big as the event hall?? Give or take a little...

Aka just imagine booths upon booths upon booths... I'm gonna have to take a pic of it tomorrow. I was there too briefly to think about taking a pic. Honestly I maybe managed to get through like a tenth of the whole vender hall in an hour of wandering. It's fucking huge. And So Many Dice... I bought one set of 14 (I think it was) dice. Aka an extended set. And then I got a random set bag of dice (just a basic 7). And then a d20 with a cat on it. And a dice of LETTERS. Aka I guess a d26 (I totally did not have to double check that there were 26 letters in the alphabet)(I have 702k words written & posted to ao3)(😂😂😂 I'm very tired) but with letters instead of numbers. And it's glow in the dark!!! And I found some hxh buttons, and a mighty nein poster, and uhmmmm. A cute lanyard. And that's all I bought. Which really is such restraint for me. (Omfg I just saw a dragon cosplay)(someone just dressed as a dragon)

OH YEAH I saw a fucking. Persona 5 Ryuji cosplay. Hanging out with the biker lady from Durarara. Featuring the Ryuji holding her scythe hfksbfmd which was such a funny image. I was too shy to ask for a pic but just trust 🙏 i saw this

Anyways yeah the only real big thing I bought is the naruto figurines. I'll show pics later once I got the stuff again (I dropped it all off in the car earlier)

Omfg literally as I've been sitting here (on a bench at the side of a main hallway) someone stopped by and gave me a handmade bracelet !!!

DND's 50th anniversary!!! So cute!!!!

[bunnihearted]

sorry but ppl on the internet are so naive when they genuinely believe the majority of people "hate capitalism".... that isnt anywhere near the truth. most people are sheep that just go along with what society says is right. when im out there and talk to "normal" people and listen to their convos they are literally pro capitalism. they talk about how the 8-5 work day 5/week is GOOD bc they get to work a lot and make "a lot" of money. many people will complain about unfair work hours and too big of a work load but they dont do anything more than complain... they wont vote for the left, they wont join unions, they wont stage protests or demonstrations... most ppl are like "omg fuck capitalism lmao ahhhaha fuck capitalism am i right???" but they still dont actually do anything to change it... because the entire point with capitalism is that it is comfortable and convenient. netflix and spotify is capitalism. ordering takeout is capitalism. having packages arrive to your door or close by is capitalism. concerts by your fav artists is capitalism. flying a plane to resorts all over the world is capitalism.... ppl only say "fuck capitalism" bc yes they're overworked and underpaid, but they dont actually want to live in a society without capitalism. it would mean a profound change of our entire reality as we've known it for centuries. it would be extreme. it would actually feel like it does in movies where the world is ending and society resets. it's too scary to actually go through with, and no one wants to do that. saving the planet and tearing down capitalism... would mean an extremely different world and life. no more driving your car to work and to the store and to the gym and back and forth to your parents or friends. no more going to multiple concerts every year. no more going to luxury resorts in ibiza or greece. no more online shopping. no more ordering takeout. the truth that nobody wants to admit, because no one wants to admit that they would choose to continue living in comfort even if it means destroying this planet, is that no. you dont hate capitalism. not truly. most people do not hate capitalism. if most people did... we wouldnt have the world we have now and always have had since capitalism was introduced. humans make this world. we get the world we deserve. and nature trying to kill us is what we deserve. it's like when we're sick and our bodies get fever to burn the virus. we are a virus. we could choose to stop. but we dont. only a small handful of people are willing to actually do what it takes to save earth. most ppl who make silly comments about oh my god fuck capitalism tihihihihi are not part of that small amount of people. it is sad, especially for the people who do get it, who do want to save earth, because we are such an extreme minority we have no power at all. the masses win. and the masses have chosen to live in greed and consumerism and comfort even if we'll pay the highest price thinkable.