#i think they should all stop existing immediately

[slamminslamminmcgill]

😌😌😌😌😌

word count: 2896

joel/reader

—

I’M GOING INSANE I’M EATING DRYWALL I’M TAKING HOSTAGES EVERYONE GO FOLLOW OOMF @gymnopedien69 RIGHT NOW

"You know I can hear you, right?"

"You're fucking joking."

"No, I'm being honest, promise, Scout's honour."

You couldn't help but snort. It wasn't funny- it wasn't- but there was something juxtaposed and ironic about Joel's comment. That, and you didn't know how else to react. Motherfucker he'd really heard you? Goddamn, did proper privacy even still exist? Or had that been shot out the window along with every other element that compromised the full deal of decent living. As you had just learned, apparently. 

Joel must have noticed your ears turning red, because he gave you a slightly sympathetic look.

"Listen, kid, I don't care, honestly at first I thought it was a phone you'd somehow managed to get working again. But I don't reckon phones vibrate for that long. Or moan."

"Jesus, I get it, okay?" you replied, your ears only getting redder. Joel couldn't help but chuckle at your flustering. 

"I just said I don't care. I don't blame you for- well...destressing."

"Joel!"

"Okay, alright, alright, I'll stop. I just thought you should know that-"

"You can hear me, I know."

---

It was the middle of the night, and you couldn't sleep. Nearly three in the fucking morning, and you were wide awake. The faint orange lights from outside shone dimly through the musty, dirty, crooked blinds, casting thin lined shadows on an empty wall on the right side of your shitty, decrepit, dilapidated bedroom. Joel was directly on the other side of the wall from you. Literally, right on the other side. You'd checked. Your beds- well- mattresses on the floor- were only separated by the thin wall you'd, until that afternoon, thought had been much thicker. 

It was quiet. Too quiet, you realized. Normally at this hour you could hear your roommate snoring. That was typically the insurance you had taken that it was safe to mess around. Now you could only think about how you'd ever been so stupid and naive. 

Joel cleared his throat on the other side of the wall, and it snapped you out of your thoughts. So he was awake. Faintly, you heard fabric shift. Just the bedsheets, right? 

This was none of your business. 

You rolled onto your side in bed, facing away from the wall, and tugged the sheets over your head. You were going to sleep now, and that was final. He was your roommate, and what he did with his own time was his concern, not yours.

There was something...relaxing about hearing Joel on the other side of the wall. Not in a weird way, jesus, no. It was just nice to know you weren't alone. It was terrifying being alone. At least here you had peace of mind that you weren't.

You were only asleep for about twenty minutes when you startled awake. It took you a second to remember where you were, grounding yourself back in the worn down apartment. Then, your ears tuned in to the soundscape around you. On the other side of the wall, Joel was groaning softly. 

This was none of your business. 

Still...

No. Crazy, you were being crazy, absolutely not, this was out of the question.

Joel let out a strangled moan that involuntarily made your dick twitch. 

Admittedly, you'd always found him intriguingly attractive. You'd never followed the impulse because the last thing you ever wanted to do was make anyone uncomfortable, but the thought had crossed your mind. 

In the dark, you listened to Joel bring himself to the edge. 

What if you just...

As if commanded by a puppeteer, you slid out of bed and in your tank top and shorts, tip-toed out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Your knuckles were about to knock on Joel's door, slightly ajar, when upon leaning forward, the floorboard under your foot creaked, and all noise Joel was making ceased immediately. 

You found yourself holding your breath. 

"That you?" Joel asked gruffly from inside his room. You couldn't move.

"Don't be shy," he added after a moment of silence, "C'mere."

What.

Your heart lurched into your throat. 

"I said come here, boy." Joel repeated, much more directly this time. Swallowing, you pushed his bedroom door open and walked into the dark room. The blinds on his window cast the same shadow yours did, and the room was very dimly lit with the same orange light as in yours. Joel was in bed, propping himself up on his elbows. 

"Thought that was you," he mumbled, looking at you now standing in the middle of his empty, barren bedroom, "You like eavesdropping on your roommates?"

"No! What- no I wasn't-" you stuttered, shit you hadn't thought this through at all.

"S'okay. I was kind of hoping you would hear. Give you a taste of what it's like." Joel said. Right, so he was going at it. 

"Uh...sorry?" you said, unsure what sort of response he was looking for.

"No, goddammit, stop apologizing, god. Come sit," he said, gesturing to the empty part of the mattress. "There's room for one more, if you want."

In the dark, you nodded. 

---

He'd pulled you into his lap, bucking his hips against your shorts. You grinded back onto him, already whimpering pathetically.

"God, what are you, a fucking tease, take your damn clothes off. If you're going to be a slut, be a slut, don't give me no half fucking measures, baby boy." Joel growled, pulling you into another deep kiss. His hand began slipping down your waistband. Shit, did he know? You hesitated, slowing. In the haze of pheromones and feral behaviour, you couldn't remember if you'd mentioned in passing that you lacked a regularly sized dick. 

"What the fuck are you doing, what's with the slowing down?" Joel asked, pulling back temporarily. He wasn't stupid, he read your cue.

"Listen, I really don't want to put a damper on this whole thing, but I need you to know that I don't-"

"You don't have a cock?" Joel finished your sentence. 

"Yeah. That." you confirmed, frowning. 

"Yeah you told me once. You were really drunk."

Right. That night. You'd sucked a guy off for a bottle of whiskey and then drank the whole thing in one go. You'd totally forgotten about that. 

"Oh yeah. Sorry."

Joel glared at you.

"What the fuck did I say about apologizing." he said, dangerously soft.

"Not to."

"Exactly. Now, I don't give two fucking damns about what's in between your legs. Based on the sounds I've heard you make in the past twenty-four hours I'd say it doesn't matter because you'll still sound like a whore no matter what I do with you. So stop apologizing, take off those damn clothes, and let me help you out a little bit here, because it seems like you need to learn a goddamn lesson."

"Yep- yes- yes sir." you said, obeying immediately, stumbling off the mattress and standing so you could undress. Joel watched you rather hungrily, eyes raking over your frame. 

"Beautiful," he whispered, looking you up and down. He took your hand and pulled you back over to him, catching you in a kiss, suddenly abruptly gentle, "You ever kissed an older guy before?" Joel asked. 

"Once or twice." you shrugged.

He'd sat up in bed, clearly naked, though the blanket was covering him from the waist down.

"Good. That means I don't have to treat you like a porcelain teacup. Unless you want me to." Joel said, already reaching up to cup your cheek. A shiver went down your spine as his rough hands caressed your face. It had been so long since you'd been with someone like this.

"No." you answered immediately. No, god please don't be gentle. That would actually be like kryptonite. Joel couldn't help but chuckle.

"Thank god."

Before you could process it, he yanked you onto the bed with him, and quite swiftly, he pinned you down onto the bed, looming overtop of you, forcing your legs apart with his knee. 

"There we go, don't be so shy, show me that body." Joel coaxed, feeling your legs up and down with his hands, snaking one in between and sliding one finger into your hole. You whimpered and tensed up. Oh god, oh shit, oh god this was really happening. 

"Hey, hey, baby boy?" Joel asked, voice gentle once more, "Look at me, honey."

You obeyed, looking up at the figure over you in the dim orange light.

"Hey sweetie, you're okay, it's just you and me. I'm gonna be a little rough like you asked, but you're safe here, okay puppy? You wanna slow down or stop just ask okay? Good boys use safewords, right?"

"Yeah..." you mumbled, nodding. Joel, deciding you were sufficiently calmed, continued pushing his finger in and out, relishing in your quite whimpers and moans. Then, a second finger prodded its way in and you got just a little bit louder.

"There we go, listen to you moan, puppy." Joel praised, still fingering your cunt. "God, and I've barely done anything. These are just the first two fingers. You want a third one?"

"Yes- uhuh. Please. Daddy." you gasped, brain already short-circuiting. Joel shoved his fingers extra deep at that.

"Hmm? What did you call me?"

"Daddy..?" you repeated. 

Fuck there was the third finger. 

"God yeah, that's good." Joel groaned. You felt something poke against your inner thigh and realized it was Joel. Shit, you must have been doing something right then. Joel kept shoving three fingers in and out of your hole for a little while, rubbing his thumb along your twitching, swollen dick. You hadn't had this level of attention in a long, long, time, and you'd pitifully forgotten how insanely better it was than any shitty C tier vibrator with dying batteries you'd somehow managed to scrounge up in this shithole of a society you had the audacity to call a life. 

"Joel-" you squeaked, and were met with an abrupt slap directly on your cunt. You let out a strangled cry, followed by another slap. 

"the fuck did you call me?" Joel asked, still ramming his fingers in and out. 

"Sorry- Daddy! I meant daddy."

He slapped your face.

"Daddy!" you amended your statement. No apologizing. Good boys didn't apologize.

"There we go, that's more like it. Fucking own your goddamn self, puppy. don't you dare say sorry for cock this good." Joel growled primally, watching you try to contain all the adrenaline and energy building up inside your body.

"I'm gonna fucking cum." you whined. Joel chuckled darkly.

"Awe, yeah? Are you gonna fucking cum?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah? Little bitch boy's gonna come?"

"Please."

Joel leaned down, breathing ragged in your ear.

"Too fucking bad, puppy. Wait."

And then there was nothing.

You squealed, squirmed and whined, groaning with disappointment. Joel held onto your thighs, and let you come to terms with reality.

"Calm down. You have no fucking clue what's coming." he said gently. After he'd determined you were no longer on the edge, he smirked and a shiver ran down your spine. 

"Right now what do I want you do to again?" Joel asked, checking in before proceeding.

"Not apologize." you mumbled, laying exposed on the bed. Joel chuckled. Christ, you were adorable.

"Yes, that, but also?"

"Safewords. Good boys use safewords."

"Yes they do," Joel praised, leaning forward and kissing your forehead, "Very good of you to remember, I'm very proud of you."

Joel lined himself up, and then you saw stars. He was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. Like fireworks shooting you into a place where time didn't exist and everything was just pure, intense feeling. Like your nerve endings were burning and the only thing they needed to keep functioning was more. Your inhibition was shut off and you became loose- so fucking loose in Joels arms. He rammed in and out of you groaning and reverently touched his forehead to your chest, right near your chin, losing himself in the wave of pleasure.

You draped your hands over the back of his head, feeling his hair in between your fingers, kind of like you wanted to hold onto it for stability.

"Go on," Joel grunted, "Tug on it." 

He said it almost like it was a challenge, and you had a response, but it only came out as a whimper. Your hands curled into fists, obeying his request and Joel moaned loudly, speeding up.

"There you go, that's my good boy."

"Da-ddy?" you asked. Joel immediately became attentive.

"Yes puppy?"

"It feels s-so good." was all you could think to say. Somewhere in the background Joel chuckled.

You only ascended from there.

Later- it could have been a minute or an hour- you'd lost track of time, Joel pulled out of your now gaping hole and slapped his cock on your a few times for good measure. 

"Okay son, turn around, Daddy wants to use you from behind. Don't be quiet now, okay? Make all the noise you need, honey." he said gently, helping you up, and positioning you on your knees.

"Good boys still use safewords, right?" you mumbled, making sure you still had the rules in order. Joel pressed several kisses down your spine.

"Yes they do, and you're very smart for remembering that, puppy. Are you okay?"

"Yes sir." you chimed. 

If the first time Joel stuck his dick into your cunt caused you to go to a place where time didn't exist, doing it doggy style wiped you off the map entirely. Even if you had wanted to make an attempt to stay quiet, you couldn't. Not that you were, of course, Joel had taught you that good boys didn't apologize, and that good boys were loud when they needed to be. 

You think you screamed, but you didn't really remember. 

Your hands gripped fists full of the bedsheets and you felt your body move with the rhythm of Joels hips slamming into your ass. His calloused hands gripped your hips and once he got his bearings he wasted no time beginning to slap your ass relentlessly. It stung, but it felt good, and neither you nor Joel could get enough of it. Come daylight your cheeks would be beet red and bruised, but by God was it worth it. 

"I'm gonna fucking cum in you, kiddo." Joel growled, strained. 

"Please-" was all you could get out.

"Yes sir, baby boy, you don't even have to fucking ask." the older man groaned, speeding up. His hand snaked around your front and gently, so goddamn gently, coaxed your up, so that your back was flush against his chest, and you were both on your knees, and that's where he held you close.

The hand that had eased you up travelled down and you sobbed with pleasure, leaning your head back against his shoulder when his fingers began playing with your pathetically neglected cock on top of all the other attention he was giving you. 

"Gonna take me?" Joel panted, taunting slightly.

"Mhm!" you whined, feeling him pulse inside of you.

"I fucking thought so. God I hoped you'd hear me. I was thinking about you, you know. Thinking about the sounds you made and- oh yes just like that, son. Just like that, kiddo. Oh fuck, you've got me on the fucking edge, I don't think I've ever met a toy as good as you and-"

Joel cut himself off with his own strained, strangled moan, the same one that got you going at the beginning of this whole endeavor. As Joel lost his mind pumping you full of cum, you fell over the edge, and everything went white. There was ringing in your ears, and all you could do was shake.

---

"Shh...easy, baby boy, just breathe. Breathe for me honey." someone said in the background. 

"Breathe, remember to breathe." he said again, chuckling softly, his voice ragged and worn out. Your eyes, screwed shut, opened, and you blinked a couple of times before the world came back into focus. You were still trembling, and aftershocks washed over you in waves. You were leaning head down on the mattress, ass still up and pressed against Joel's hips. His hand was pressed against your back, gently rubbing up and down as if to soothe you through the experience.

"You're okay. You're still here. You're with me." he reminded you, sighing, still catching his own breathe.

As your body stopped tingling, and feeling began to come back to your legs and waist, you realized how fucking soaked  everything was. the mattress under your knees was drenched- your own thighs were drenched, you felt come on your lower back- that was probably Joels- god, you were still pulsing. There were tears on your cheeks and you pushed yourself up. The intensity of it all came crashing down on you. Joel was quick to pick up on this.

"Hey, come here, come here darling," he cooed, easing you up again, wrapping his arms around you, gently pressing a kiss to your cheek, "here, let's lay down a second. can we do that kiddo?"

you nodded, following his lead. it felt nice to stretch out your knees and legs, you'd been leaning on them for a while. 

"there we go, that's better, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." you mumbled, voice hoarse from moaning so loudly. The whole experience had been cathartic. 

"You did really well, puppy. are you okay? nothing hurts?"

"no." you replied. as the adrenaline began to crash, exhaustion started taking over your body, and a wonderfully warm, sleepy feeling seeped into your muscles. 

"Did you have a good time?" you yawned. Joel pulled you close to his chest and laughed, the sound low and rumbling against your ear.

"Yeah, darling, I had a great time. Lord knows I fucking needed that."

"we should do it again." you said absentmindedly, already half asleep against Joel's chest. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[kandy-sticks-zaza-blogs]

Octavia Godparent

Octavia x God parent!Reader

Platonic/sfw/fluff/comfort/angst kinda?

Octavia deserves a better parental figure than Stolas.

Fairly oddparents AU

Octavia a teenager who lives in the mansion as a moody teenager.

Her parents argued again as they shouted at eachother blaming that Stolas slept with an imp and Stella is angry at Stolas slutty behaviour as Octavia turned her music up.

Octavia feels miserable as she holds her knees to her chest. Stolas forgets his daughter promises as she felt upset.

“It’s not fair all he thinks about is that man I wished I would see the stars…” She threw the useless gift her dad gave her in the bin as she kick the bookshelf one book fell onto the floor.

Octavia hold the book in her hands as she goes in her room she brushed the dusty book off she smelled the scent from the book that smelled like…dark chocolate and cinnamon?Octavia hold it in her arms hiding it as she goes to her bedroom as she shut the door she take the chains off with her magic as she opens the book a puffy smokey vortex blow up out of the book as there’s a silhouette came out.She coughed covering her mouth as she her a deep voice.

“Awww….feeling the misery already?Do no worry wart!For as I….Y/N THE HALF ANTI-FAIRY!Will shall help you cheer up!!” A blue skinned fairy with a sharp elf ears,a floating yellow crown,a demon wings and a very old ancient clothes appeared out of the smoke as they use a huge wand as their own prop as they put on the smug face they walked around Octavia in circle.

“What even are you anyway?Are you a grown adult playing dress up and pretend to be a fairy for Halloween?” She looked Y/N roasted them as they were speechless. “Ah- I’m sorry what?”The Half Anti Fairy looked at Octavia in confusion.

“You know you should try a better fashion sense than this.” Y/N is offended by her “No I’m not wearing a costume!Anyway…AHEM!I am your fairy godparent! I will make any wish you desire,Octavia!”

“Wait how did you know my name?”

“Well it’s said you’re name on my list after all and you freed me!Damn it’s been 100 that I am trapped in that cramped book!"You stretched as the bone cracked.

“Wait you said that you were trapped in the book for 100 years?”

"Yes by your ancestors and Jorgen Von Strangle they used their magic to trap me in here!Cursed your ancestors...." You said bitterly in your voice at the end of the sentence. "Okay there are rules or whatever,Do not tell anyone about fairies do exist if you do tell you'll forget me and I'll disappear forever."

"Okay I won't tell anyone it's not like I am a very talkative person..."

"So where am I?Am I in Hollywood or...."

You open the curtains as you see redness everywhere that in fact that you are unaware that you are in hell as you scream from the red that blinded you.

"AHHH!TOO MUCH RED!!"You covered your eyes while rolling around on the floor Octavia watched you in confusion.

You heard a loud shouting walked with your prop limping as you see two adults arguing eachother as you are confused. "That's my mom and dad, Stella & Stolas...they are always fighting."

"Oh and what caused them to ruin their relationship?"

"My dad cheated on my mom with a man." Octavia says as you turn your head slowly with a disgusted expression as your face darken. "Do you want me to turn your father into a cockroach?"

"What no!" Octavia tried to stop you as Stella walked passed Octavia ignoring you and Octavia you immediately make Stolas fainted by shooting a beam from your wand.

Octavia is shocked by your actions as she was about to tell you off you control Stolas standing up like a puppet.

"Hello daughter I was wondering we could see the stars together!"

"What have you done to my dad?!" Octavia scolded you as you put on a smug face. "Oh you know I changed his personality to be a good father he is and guess what he deserves it!"You poking his eyes making fun of him.

"So you said you want to make a wish?What do you wish for Octavia?"

"I wish I want to see the star."

The wand began to glow as the portal appears as they see spaces filled with stars and beautiful atmosphere. They are both wearing a spacesuit as you smirk feeling proud of yourself.

"Wow it's so beautiful..." Octavia smiled as she began to float she is confused as the you pulled the rope down to you. "Come on let's jump like we're on the moon!" Octavia jump with her mind control dad as you watch them. Octavia began to smile feeling the joy in her again as they are both having fun.

After many hours she flopped onto the bed as you put her unconscious dad to his bed. You walked in the room as you see Octavia smiling as you tucked her up.

Stolas keeps getting nightmares for his karma as you and Octavia have so many fun and wish everyday. You both go on the adventures,disguise as a teenager demon to hang out with her in public,see the stars and go out for food.

You sit next to Octavia staring at the sunset as you looked down at the reflection of the water having flashbacks of your past.

"Please don't take my child away!"

"Mom!"

"Y/N NO!!"

"Y/N are you okay?"Octavia puts her palm of her hand on your top of your hands as you sigh in sadness.

"I'm okay it's my past... I'm the one who caused bad things happened I'm the one who keeps putting everyone in danger."

"Octavia if you grew up and become the queen would you ever forget who I am...?"

You began to raise her better as a god parent as you feel happy again after 100 years trapped in the book you'll always find the right person who came into your life.

"No why would I ever forget about you? Your the best parent I needed in my entire life."She hugged you without a warning as you tear up feeling butterfly in your heart as you feel comfortable with your godkid.

What happened to Stolas great question he have been turned into a tasty chicken nugget he is so delicious with the dip sauce.

[this-is-wilhom]

sometimes i just think abt how people have no media literacy and i have to think abt like. how did this happen to you. like i don’t think i’m the ultimate smarty pants who immediately knows everything about something i watch or read but i like to think i at least come away from it knowing the general theme of the media?? like i’m thinking SPECIFICALLY abt the SAIKI K. FANDOM. ON TIKTOK. because HOOWWWWWW did you watch this whole show. and then when you finish it you still think saiki HATES HIS FRIENDS????? THE ENTIRE POINT OF RHE SHOW IS THAT HE DOESNT!!! YOU GOT TRICKED BY THE UNRELIABLE NARRATOR HOW ARE YOU GONNA LET THIS STUPID LITTLE MAN TRICK YOU HE ADORES HIS FRIENDS!!!!! WATCH THE SHOW AGAIN!!!!

this is ESPECIALLY targeted at teruhashi haters and ppl who think saiki still hates her. he does not. please watch season 2 again. he outright admits he thinks she is a good person and he clearly likes her as a person the thing he dislikes is the attention she brings bc everybody loves her!! they’re literally bffs shut up!!!

[abyssembraced]

Making You the Patron Saint of Something

Patron Saint of Creation

Patron saint of explosions. Patron saint of More. Patron saint of something new entirely. Something unfamiliar, something you can't recognize. Was Frankenstein's monster an abomination or had his like just never been seen before? You're the patron saint of all those new, beautiful things. You're the patron saint of the monsters, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Patron Saint of Bones

Patron saint of frameworks. Of structures. Of solidity. Patron saint of things that break. Patron saint of things that are left behind. The bones survive long after the body, the building: what is there left for them, when the rest is gone? What do bones do, with nothing to hold around them? Who holds the bones?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagged by: @distrxst (thank you!)

Tagging: Back at it again with tagging Everyone <3 And again, if you have multiple rp blogs, absolutely feel free to do it for one other than the one I tagged!! @bladesfromthedark , @legalbrats , @tazmilyxfamily , @pri-rp , @hopeful-hugz , @quillheel , @musescfmusic , @interdimensional-ship

[random-iz-stuff]

Wait...so remember that episode where Dib is talking to the Tallest on Zim's monitor--do the Tallest understand what he's saying and vise versa? OR did Zim give the Tallest a stack of info on Earth's culture and languages ahead of time and they now of a inkling of a understanding of Earth speak? I know they never had a proper conversation, but that post about irken languages got me thinking about it 🤔

I think it’s funnier if the answer is no. Because despite Dib talking to the Tallest non stop, the Tallest never reply. They just stare at Dib and talk to each other about the size of Dib’s head. So the Tallest are watching this small creature with a massive head excitingly make a bunch of noises at them that they don’t understand in the slightest.

Meanwhile Dib is calling the Tallest alien scum and asking for their planet’s coordinates.

[here-there-were-dragons]

every time i think the "staff can do no wrong and any form of complaining or expressing literally anything other than "yaaay love it <3" with no further comments is bashing and literally evil we should never say anything that could even potentially be interpreted as mildly critical ever because ~some artist who worked hard on this is probably reading the forums and might feel bad if we ever express anything but praise~ also we must be constantly positive at all times unless we're passive-aggressively shaming someone for having an extremely polite and apologetically worded criticism and if you ask the staff for literally anything you had better be prepared to preface it with 3 paragraphs of apologizing for breathing air" attitude is bad on tumblr, i take one look at the forums, and holy fucking hell is it SO much worse on site

[tittyinfinity]

the point is that we're eventually gonna have to move past the two-party system, and the longer we wait to do that, the harder it will be.

if a genocide isn't enough to make you consider a third party (which more people support than ever), what will? If this isn't enough to support a revolution.....what is?

[teamatsumu]

purple and pink. (rafayel x reader)

summary: you and rafayel cover yourselves in paint and (redacted).

word count: 3450

warnings: porn without plot, smut, swearing, nsfw, mdni, fem!reader

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

a/n: my brain is rotting for this man so this is just self indulgent crap atp

You weren’t exactly an artistic person.

You just never indulged in art before. Of course, you admired the craft and thought it was extremely difficult to actually create meaningful art. But you didn’t think you were a particularly creative person, nor did you think you had an eye for such stuff.

Ever since you began dating Rafayel, you would say your appreciation for art had definitely improved. How could it not, considering he spent all day creating it, and in the time he wasn’t, his world was still colored by the lens of it. Rafayel saw art everywhere he went, in the gentle roll of the water where it rippled in fountains, or the timid but pinpoint light of a lone star in a dark sky. He loved describing it to you, and the way he put it would make you look around twice. He had really changed the way you viewed the world.

What you were about to do now wasn’t exactly the kind of art that made you think deeply of the universe, but hey, not all art can make you question your existence. Sometimes you need to create….. lighter pieces.

Stepping back, you stared down at the bed sheet sized canvas you had stuck to the floor, sure that you had used enough adhesive to keep it temporarily in place. The clock on the far wall of the studio told you that Rafayel would be home in a little while, which meant you needed to start the next phase of your plan shortly. But first things first, you needed lighter clothes.

After you had switched your jeans and button down shirt for a thin, short robe, you began pulling down buckets of paint from the storage closet connecting to the main studio. You chose only two, a light purple and a light pink. Both colors you knew Rafayel liked using in his pieces. You might not know a whole lot about art, but you knew him inside out. And you also knew he would love this idea.

You spent the next few minutes going over the canvas with the two buckets, pouring a few globs of paint over it. Small, but dense, with lots of blank canvas around them so they could be spread. You decided to only do two or three globs of each color. After all, wasn’t the art in how the colors would move and slide on the canvas? This should be enough paint for that purpose.

Your face was heating up at the thought of what was about to happen, and you felt almost giddy. When was he going to be home? You couldn’t wait to get started.

As if on cue, the door of the studio clicked open, not making a single sound as your boyfriend lumbered in, closing the door behind him. His white shirt was loose, black pants tight, and you couldn’t help but admire his ass when he turned around to shut the door with a light snap.

“Hey-” He stopped almost immediately upon seeing you, eyeing the half empty paint can you were setting down and the flimsy robe covering your body. A body that was definitely naked under it.

“What are you doing?” You saw his eyes flick over you and then behind to eye the massive canvas you had laid out, along with the little circles of paint looking fresh and shiny on it. You gave him a grin.

“I was hoping we could collaborate for your next piece.” You tugged at his shirt until you both stood closer to the canvas, taking special joy in how confused he looked. His eyes kept darting all over the place to try and make sense of what was going on, and you had to stifle a giggle.

You thought to elaborate on your suggestion by slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. Rafayel raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop you, probably curious to see what you were cooking. You tugged his shirt off his toned shoulders, before going to work on his pants. His hand finally seized yours, tilting his head so your eyes would meet his.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” His tone was amused. You hummed almost in thought, pulling your hand away. You tugged on the belt of your robe until it slipped free, and the front fell open. You saw the tips of Rafayel’s ears turn red, and his expression blanked a bit.

“You have paint. You have a canvas. And you have me.” Your voice was a low whisper. You reached into the bucket next to you, palms stretched, until they were both covered in paint. Then you reached one hand up and dragged your fingertips over his bare abs.

The cool paint made them contract a bit, and you heard the way his breath hitched under the touch. Four long streaks of pink now stood out against his pale skin. Finally, you looked back up to meet his gaze, his face inches from yours.

Rafayel’s blush had extended from his ears down to his neck, but the corner of his lip twitched up into a slow grin. His hands were eager as he undid the button of his pants, and you felt a thrill run up your spine. You watched him undress quickly. He was slow, smooth, as he lifted one precise hand to tug on the shoulder of your loose robe until it was falling off your shoulders and pooling at your feet.

He looked around and his eyes caught the second can of paint. Purple. He dipped his hands into it, and you watched him walk back over to you.

“Where did you get this idea, baby?” His voice had lost its confusion, coated in honey now, sultry and low, nearly a whisper, and you shivered when his breath hit your bare neck. He took advantage of the fact that your hair was pulled up and away from your shoulders, tracing gentle lips over the slope of your shoulder. Instinctively, your hands smoothed over his torso, and you were reminded of the paint on them, still wet, now swiped onto the man before you.

Rafayel hummed at the feeling and proceeded to return the favor, his hands set on your hips. The paint was cool on your skin, and you almost jumped at the temperature if it weren’t for his warm hands taking the feeling away in the next second. Your boyfriend gave your naked bodies a gentle tug backwards until you were stepping on paper, slight crinkling noises hitting your ears.

Gentle lips now made contact with yours, and you sighed in relief. You had missed this, just the feeling of him kissing you. You had been thinking about it- and other things- all day, and you were so excited to start. Hands caressed over each other slowly but eagerly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much paint you had managed to get on each other.

Your kisses became more hurried, more firm, and you could feel Rafayel’s body temperature rise a bit. His breath stuttered when you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together in a synchronized battle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you arched deeply into him, nails digging into his biceps.

“Fuck, the paint is drying.” You managed to gasp out when your lips separated, his mouth finding the skin behind your ear immediately. He sucked hard on it, until you shivered and let out a long, shaky breath. Your knees were so weak, and you were glad for his strong arms wrapped around your waist, since it was the only thing currently holding you up.

He hummed against your skin, not letting up on the marks he was marring it with. You had discovered pretty early on that Rafayel was a biter, and marks on your skin was another way he created art. It just so happened that you enjoyed the feeling more than you could ever think to describe.

“Good thing you laid more out for us then.” He responded, referring to the globs just below your feet, before tugging you down until you were sprawled on the canvas below you. It was cool under your skin, and you felt something wet just under your shoulder. Oh. Your eyes met Rafayel’s before they finally traveled down his body for the first time since you two had started. You gulped in a deep breath.

His pale skin was covered in purple and pink streaks, like smooth color streaked over brilliant porcelain. The ridges and bumps of his muscles stood out even more under the paint, and you could tell in a few places the exact route your hands had taken, pink running over his waist and down his V-line. The remnants of the journey your fingers took stood before you, proud on his skin. You felt a thrill run through you at the sight, something stirred in your core.

“This is turning you on.” Rafayel observed, a light smirk resting on his face. You felt your body burn at the teasing lilt of his voice.

“As if this isn’t something you’ve dreamed of doing.” You retaliated, opening your legs so he could fit himself between them, resting his elbows on either side of you so your faces were a hairbreadth away. He hummed and sighed, lowering his body until his erection grazed right over your center, making you gasp.

“Believe me, I’ve dreamed of this.” He sighed, reached for the paint to the left and just above your head. You watched him cover his palm with it before he reached down, hooking a hand under your knee and pulling it up until it folded against your torso. The paint was wet on your skin, and you were learning to love the feeling more and more. His cock prodded your entrance, now on full display for him. He gave you another mischievous smirk.

“Baby I’m about to ruin you so bad.”

The first slide of him inside you had you crying out and arching into him, his cock carving its way through your unprepped hole and bringing with it a burn so delicious it made your head spin. When he bottomed out, he moaned unabashedly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell of it and sending shivers through your spine. Your core clenched and unclenched rapidly, trying to adjust to the glorious intrusion. Your brain screamed at him to move, to slide in and out, do anything at all. You needed to feel him rock into you. Your hips twitched and jerked, making your boyfriend moan before he finally started moving.

His thrusts started out languid, smooth, gliding in and out of you at a reasonable pace. You sighed, head leaned back and reveling in the feeling it brought, leg tensing under his grip. Little tendrils of pleasure zipped up from where you were connected, heavy cock stretching you open until your pussy was adequately wet, ready to take the pounding you knew was inevitably coming your way.

And oh, did you receive it.

Slowly, steadily, Rafayel picked up the pace until his hips were smacking hard into your pelvis, knocking every breath from your lungs. You cried out, one arm thrown over his shoulder while the other seeked desperate purchase under you, used to the feeling of silk sheets but now met with nothing but smooth, stretched out canvas and the wet sensation of sticky color. Rafayel used the grip he had on your knee to twist your leg out further, inviting him to hit that one spot that made you see stars. A broken wail left your mouth and your back arched impossibly high, hearing a low moan hit your ear when you clenched tight around the cock pounding into you.

“F-fuck, Rafi-” His head lifted, just enough to connect your lips in a desperate slurry of rushed kisses, sucking and biting on your lips as his pace didn’t so much as stutter. Your moans dissolved straight into his mouth, little pornographic ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s slipping out with every thrust. You didn’t bother muffling them, knowing exactly what the noises did for Rafayel’s ego, and with how he was ravishing you currently, you were okay with giving him a little ego boost.

(You would deal with the consequences of that later.)

“Gonna cum-” You managed to choke out just as your orgasm rammed into you with no warning, effectively silencing any other words as you cried and shook through it, muscles seized tight and legs kicking in the air.

“God- fuck,” Rafayel’s first words. “There you go. Fuck, that’s it.”

He fucked you through the last vestiges of your high before his arms slipped under your arched waist and lifted you up, rolling over until you were perched on his hips, throbbing cock still nestled inside you. The change in position made him slide in deeper, and you let out a broken moan. Your orgasm was still lingering around the edges, encouraging you to prolong the feeling, to chase after it again. And so you did. You rolled your hips, placing your hands on Rafayel’s abs as leverage to push your body up and down. You finally took a good look at your boyfriend.

His chest was heaving with exertion, shining under the glow of the lights above you, catching on the swirling mixes of purple and pink. Under the paint, his skin glistened with sweat, tensing and straining under his movements. The paint had reached all the way up the side of his neck, and even into his hair, blending with the purple tresses. The purple complimented his eyes, half lidded and heavy with lust, his lip was tucked under his teeth.

He was a vision.

“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was fractured and strained, and in your staring you had forgotten that you were also the object of his gaze. You couldn’t imagine how you looked right now, slathered with paint and hot under the stimulation you were receiving, strands of hair leaving your bun and trailing down over your face and neck. You rolled your hips and tightened hard around his cock, watching the way his jaw slackened and eyes rolled shut. Another zip of pleasure ran through you, and you couldn’t help but keen, pushing yourself to go faster, to make him feel even better.

“I’m- I’m so close.” You could feel your vision swim, tears gathering in your lash line as his cock dug deep into your core, prodding into your spongy walls in all the right ways. Rafayel grabbed both your wrists off his chest, pulling them behind your back and then tugging you down until your body was pinned tight against his. You let him do as he pleased, planting his feet on the canvas before he started thrusting hard and fast up into your sopping cunt.

You screamed and arched, body tensing at the pace he set, chin resting on his shoulder and head thrown back as you let him carry you face first into another orgasm, gushing around him until the sounds of his thrusts grew impossibly wetter, sloppier than the paint around you and covering you, blabbering incoherent phrases and curses as tears poured from your eyes. With every thrust, the ecstasy prolonged itself, like an endless high that came with intense drugs, except all you needed was him, and he would get you there if it was the last thing he did.

Your perspective was shifting, Rafayel’s cock leaving you until you felt cold and empty. He maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, or rather, arms and knees since you felt that you couldn’t even hold yourself up at this point. A firm hand pushed on your back until it arched to his liking, spreading you until he could slide his massive length back into you with little to no resistance. You whimpered pathetically, eyes rolling unhindered in your head, cheek smushed into the paper beneath you. Briefly, you felt like you could almost taste the paint, but the thought left your brain faster than cigarette smoke dissipating on a windy day when Rafayel started moving again.

“Stop me if you can’t take it.”

You could never, would never stop him, not when your pussy keened at the feeling of his cock filling you up to fulfillment once more. Especially not when he planted a foot on your side that gave him leverage to thrust harder and stronger into you. Your body buzzed and reveled under the feeling of being used like this, basking in the sounds coming from Rafayel getting heavier and choppier as he finally chased his own orgasm instead of yours. You wanted nothing more than for him to warm you up, fill you with his seed until you couldn’t take any more of it. Your depraved mind was wiped blank of everything else except that crushing need.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whine, clenching hard around him. Rafayel moaned and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck. I’m gonna- I’m cumming baby, take it, take it, take it, take it-” Your body jostled at the strength of his thrusts, once, twice, and then he was slamming his cock deep into you and holding it there, hot spurts of cum hitting your walls. Painting your insides white like your bodies had painted your outsides purple and pink.

Your entire body collapsed on itself when Rafayel pulled out, dropping onto the paper heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Your vision was swimming and so was your head, unable to do anything but focus on the faint buzz in your muscles. You could hear shuffling somewhere behind you before you were being lifted into strong arms. You sighed and curled into them, seeking the warmth of your boyfriend after the beating your body just took. And he was happy to provide it- in the tub he ran for you while both of you settled into warm water.

You dozed in and out of sleep as Rafayel cleaned you up, giggling and humming along with whatever little anecdotes he was telling you. He knew you would barely remember most of it later, considering how dopey and spacey you got after sex. You pouted and leaned up to him every few minutes, stealing tiny kisses from his lips. And afterwards, you let him pat you dry and put you to bed in the usual “princess treatment” he gave you after one of your sessions. The only time he backed off from teasing you relentlessly and instead doted on you properly.

You couldn’t tell how long you slept, but you woke up feeling well rested. The bed next to you was empty but still slightly warm, and you could hear quiet shuffling outside in the studio.

Your muscles screamed when you forced them to move, your hips and thighs feeling like particular sore spots. You ignored the feeling in favor of pulling a shirt off the floor to throw over your body, realizing it was your boyfriend’s when it fell all the way to your thighs. You trudged out of the room while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You saw him standing with his back to you, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The muscles of his bare back shifted as he moved, now clear of all the paint you two had slathered on it. Oh right, the paint.

Your eyes shifted behind him to the canvas, which Rafayel had propped up against the wall now, and was observing silently. You walked closer to admire the streaks of pink and purple on it, watching it carefully. Somehow, the choppy strokes showed your desperation, your passion, and you felt your face heat up at the thought.

“Looks pretty.” Your voice was slightly rough. Rafayel turned around at the sound and gave you a soft smile, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind as you both stared. You settled into his warmth as you swayed gently back and forth.

“Why’re you thinking so hard about it?” You asked.

You turned your head to watch as he huffed and pouted a bit. He looked so cute, you bit back the urge to squish his cheeks.

“Pretty sure there’s some cum in there somewhere.”

Aaaaaand the urge was gone.

You smacked his chest hard, making him jerk back and laugh, but not releasing his hold on you.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Not more than you.”

He kissed you before you could land another smack, hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. You fought to keep a grin down, but failed when you felt his lips stretch with a smile of his own, erupting into giggles.

[inkskinned]

there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)

i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.

i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.

and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.

HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.

now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.

my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.

i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.

by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!

keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"

similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."

the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"

if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.

the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.

godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.

the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.

[theminecraftbee]

the case of docm77 v zombiecleo: a very incomplete summary of events

i, of course, strongly recommend going to doc's video (or bdubs, cleo, joe, or skizz's, once they exist) and watching the whole thing for yourself i could NOT stop laughing. but for those of you who want a vague summary of some stuff that happens in the courtroom:

bdubs is insisting on being called "your highness" as opposed to "your honor".

we START with bdubs explaining he has set up a dramatic five-strike system; if either side gets five strikes (things that upset bdubs lol) he will "uh, not give them the death penalty, but--"

doc immediately tries to use this to take advantage of the system and get cleo strikes.

he instead accidentally immediately murders his own counsel.

it has been like One Minute.

"just in case anyone dies, there's a jury deliberation room under construction, there's a bed in there"

bdubs is paying everyone a diamond block for showing up if they listen to his judgement. help.

"thrust his sword into said swine" so skizz's opening speech is GREAT.

"wow, that was really good. but the camera is over here, so if you could do that again and look into the camera for me--"

"defense, first off, how do you plead?" (doc, grasping for his vague knowledge of american legal dramas) "i plead the fifth. i plead the fifth. uh. right?"

joe, in his opening speech: "this is esteemed around the world as a place where two adults who act like children can come to have their differences settled by you in the most entertaining manner."

HELP. "cleo is bringing to the court not an affair between two adults with an unsettled matter, but an adult and a large baby."

HELP IS JOE'S DEFENSE THAT DOC IS A LARGE BABY AND THEREFORE CAN'T BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS ACTIONS.

joe: "you know, cleo has a lot of communication problems." bdubs, with great feeling: "yikes."

cleo, under her breath: "i'm gonna kill him."

"just a minute i'm setting up my lawyer", ren says, carrying the armor stand he had in the stands with him to the bench and putting false's head on it,

ren: "i cannot recall." bdubs: "YOU CAN'T RECALL WHAT HAPPENED?" ren: "i cannot recall if i cannot recall."

why is skizz doing a foghorn leghorn accent now,

skizz, about doc: "this is proof this man likes to intimidate, that he gets off on it." no one comments on this phrasing.

sorry ren making an armor stand falsesymmetry as his lawyer and companion in the stands is so funny.

"this is more evidence cleo is a poor communicator. she can't control her man--"

joe is very clearly just trying to make everyone in the room mad and it's really funny.

HELP. BDUBS BUILT A HEADS AND TAILS MACHINE TO DECIDE IF THEY'RE GOING TO ALLOW OBJECTIONS.

anyway it rolls tails so it overrules skizz's objection.

skizz's accent and vocabulary just keeps getting more and more exaggerated i think he's going for approximately benoit blanc,

beef: "he forcefully approached us and said he's the guy who wants all the wood." cleo and doc, snorting and giggling at this as one,

i feel like i should note that bdubs has a fireworks crossbow that he's calling his "whip" and hitting people with when they do something he considers wrong.

this leads me to wonder if bdubs thinks whipping is normal in a courtroom...?

i think its really funny that skizz is actively doing like, correct types and moments to do an objection, and it almost sounds like good lawyering, and then IMMEDIATELY bdubs goes "it's time to HEADS AND TAILS!!!" and breaks that illusion completely.

"well, it's heads, objection sustained, strike that from the record." joe: "well then i guess you'll never know what my point was." beat of silence. bdubs: "never mind, let's just add a strike, and you can say it,"

"i don't know how the esophagus entered this situation at all?" "let's pray it didn't. geez." "i was not thinking of doc's esophagus when i built the giant fish for his hourglass." <- this only barely makes more sense in context,

"no further questions your honor." "seriously???"

every time joe calls doc either a baby or a manchild is SO FUNNY. why is this his argument. it's SO FUNNY.

"but he has not proven mens rhea, which you your highness are very familiar with but for the viewers at home is not a gendered form of diarrhea--"

cleo, to doc: "doc are you sure you want to win this one?" doc, in clear and obvious distress: "i'm not sure of anything anymore man i just, i don't know,"

bdubs then interrupts to do the sponsored segment of court.

"the tall claims court is brought to you by!" bdubs puts a disc in. 13 starts playing. "shoot that's the spooky record. that's the worst one." he continues with his bamboo shop sponsored segment spiel anyway, with 13 continuing to play,

"i'm not going to ask for money, i'm just asking for a simple injunction against doc. he won't be allowed to use diamonds for redstone anymore." "WHAT??? THERE'S LIMITS TO THIS, OKAY????" "calm down doc, we're not gonna--" "WHAT NO WHAT CALM DOWN???"

"cleo i have to say that's way better than anything skizz said. skizz was talking and all i heard was bla bla bla bla bla but that was real heartfelt. if you're thinking about paying him, maybe don't."

doc: "i want to make peace and love that's all i care about i'm just a humble boutiquer"

"i felt like as her friend i needed to teach her what it feels like to lose something" i love how deranged that is doc keep going

"but it happened and i think i'm insane, right," doc says, then nods at joe.

"yeah this is really good" cleo responds, perfectly happy with the idea of doc declaring himself insane for no good reason,

cleo: "doc is just completely unhinged when people mess with his redstone, and i feel like my punishment would take away that emotional bond."

joe: "objection your honor, my client is unhinged in every context."

i like how this is "make fun of doc" day.

bdubs: "i'm going to deliberate quickly then i'll come back with my judgement." (turns around for like five seconds.) "and i'm back!"

HELP DOC HAS BEEN BANISHED TO A SINGLE BLOCK IN THE SKY WITH A CHEST ON IT FOR TWO WEEKS

THREE IF HE TOUCHES THE GROUND

AIR JAIL...........

bdubs adjourns court. doc, immediately: "WHAT THE HELL JOE??" "i did my best, man :/"

"DO YOU KNOW THE VEINS ON MY NECK ARE ABOUT TO EXPLODE????"

jevin in the background of doc losing his shit just kinda murdering skizzleman for fun,

doc's main objection to the sky island is "BUT I HAVE THINGS TO DO :(((((("

doc ends the video standing here:

in conclusion: yeah this seems like a very fair trial with no ridiculous elements at all. very serious and befitting the sanctity of court. yes. you should watch it for a very serious hermitcraft experience,

[ordinaryschmuck]

The Doctor experiencing racism, firsthand, for the first time in their life...Oh, man, I gotta go through this.

First, I love that he doesn't realize what's wrong at first. He just figures that the rich twats are being twats. No big deal, The Doctor dealt with twats before, he can handle them once more. So he tries, he tries using every ounce of logic to convince them that going with him will be for the best. But they refuse anyway because they're uncomfortable with someone like him and his wild story about a blue box that's bigger on the inside.

Yet he doesn't care. The Doctor still wants to help these people, even if they don't trust him. It speaks volumes of the kind of good person that The Doctor is, no matter the face. They will always help someone--EVERYONE--because to them, no life in the universe isn't worth saving. He makes this clear in his desperation to make them STOP their crazy plan to become pilgrims and let him take them to a new, safer planet. Except that they still refuse, and he's stunned. He can't understand how they can be so insane to not accept his help.

And then it hits. He finally gets the reason why they don't want his help. It's all because of this one, vile concept that still managed to persist for decades, centuries, GENERATIONS on a distant planet. Despite the time and the distance, racism still persisted and The Doctor was too blind to notice the signs. The fact that there was no other person of color in that bubble or how often Lindy was annoyed and disgusted with The Doctor specifically while being more lenient toward Ruby. She blocked The Doctor immediately, but was willing to hear Ruby out despite how clearly aggravated she became with her. It was all there, and none of us noticed, not even The Doctor because...they're not used to thinking that way. They're used to people trusting their face and listening to them because they've always remembered being White and never once considered that someone could be prejudiced towards them.

All of this comes to The Doctor all at once...and it is so ridiculous that all he can do is laugh. The sheer utter lunacy that racism existed and he just now realized HE could experience it is insane. It's insane that this is something he never thought of. It's insane that this is STILL something he has to think of. And that laughter soon turns to anger because he HATES that it's still a thing he has to think of. He hates that he couldn't safe what's left of a civilization because of something that should have been outdated LONG ago.

The Doctor finally experienced racism first hand, and it broke both of his hearts because of it.

[firewasabeast]

prompt: im not gay, but my husband is.

(I loved those scenes in 911 and lonestar where they only wanted the straight white guy to work on them, so I think it would be funny happening with married, bi buck!)

“No, I don't want you touching me.”

They'd been sent on a call to a woman's residence. She had fallen in her driveway on the way to her car. From the moment they pulled up, trouble had started. She didn't want Hen touching her, wouldn't accept help from Chimney, and the second she spotted Diaz on Eddie's uniform she stopped him.

“Well, you're a straight, white man, Bobby,” Chimney said with a smile. “You wanna take the lead?”

“Wait,” Eddie put his hands on his hip, “do interracial relationships matter to you too?” he asked the woman. “Because, if so, Bobby's out.”

She looked around at everyone in a panic. “You!” she exclaimed when her eyes met Buck's. “You can do it, right?!”

“Yes, I am capable of placing a splint on your leg,” he said with no enthusiasm as Hen handed over the splint.

He bent down to get started but she held her arm out to stop him. “You're normal, right? You're not married to someone,” she glanced up at Bobby, “different, are you? Not gay or anything?”

“Oh, no ma'am, I'm not gay,” Buck assured her, before adding with a flash of his ring, “my husband is though.”

“Y- Your what?”

“My husband.”

“So you are gay?”

“Ma'am, please don't get him started,” Hen begged. “He will not shut up once he gets going.”

“There are actually some people that believe bisexuality doesn't exist,” Buck began, waving a finger to emphasize his point. The groans from the rest of the 118 didn't detour him. “It has been proven to cause mental health issues for people who identify as such, and in extreme cases-”

“Okay, okay,” Bobby interrupted, patting Buck's back a couple of times to get him to stop. “This lady is very clearly “in distress” and we should be focused on helping her.” He stared over at the woman, “If she'll let any of us.”

“Can't you call another team or something? One that isn't filled with minorities and heathens?”

“The 112?” Hen suggested.

Eddie shook his head. “All women crew today.” He looked down at the lady, “I'm guessing you wouldn't like that?”

“They're just not as capable as men,” she whined.

“143?” Chimney asked.

Buck stood back up. “With Captain Garcia?”

“No!” She yelled.

“217?” Eddie offered.

Buck perked up at that. He smiled at the lady on the ground. “You'd get to meet my husband!” he exclaimed. “He's working ground ops today. I could call him, give him a heads up?” He bent back down to the woman's level. “He is the gay one though.”

The woman groaned before pushing herself up and grabbing her purse, jerking away at Buck's attempt to help. “You know what? I'm just gonna take myself to the hospital,” she said as she started to hobble away.

“Say hello to Dr. Cohen for us,” Bobby said, sending her off with a wave. She let out one more angry yelp before getting into her car and slamming the door.

*****

Tommy had gotten home about an hour before Buck, already dressed in a white button down shirt tucked into black dress pants for dinner reservations they had that night.

When he heard the sounds of Buck's car door shutting, he headed to the front door and opened it, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey you,” he said with a smile.

Buck smiled back, dropping his duffel the second he reached the porch. He immediately wrapped himself around Tommy, surprising him with a kiss that elicited a moan from him.

“I got to call you my husband at work today,” Buck explained between kisses as Tommy gripped his waist. He led Tommy backward into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. “Twice.”

Tommy breathed out a laugh, pulling back just enough to look into Buck's eyes. “This was your first shift back after our honeymoon,” he reminded him. “So you lasted, what, twelve hours into your workday before mentioning me?”

Buck shook his head. “It was our first call of the day,” he informed him. “More like two hours.”

Tommy hummed, running his hands up and down Buck's waist. “Your whole team owes me double then,” he said before pressing a gentle kiss to Buck's lips.

It was Buck's turn to pull back this time. “What are you talking about?”

“They were taking bets on how long it would take for you to mention you were married. I said it'd be less than twelve hours, and you'd mention it more than once. Wait-” He paused, then gave Buck's waist a squeeze, “did you mention bisexual erasure?”

Buck sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It's an important topic, Tommy!”

Tommy simply smiled. “I hit the jackpot, Babe.”

“You placed bets on me?” Buck asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Mhm,” Tommy replied. He shrugged. “I won like five hundred dollars.”

Buck's eyes darkened at that. In one quick motion, he turned them and shoved Tommy against the door, pawing at his shirt to get it untucked. “That's so hot,” he moaned, smashing his mouth against Tommy's in a sloppy kiss.

They never did make their dinner reservations.

[cultven]

hii i love reading yor fics sososo much T_T<333

I'd like to request a fic where Logan dreams that he hurts the reader, almost killing them. The reader notices that he's having a nightmare and wakes him up, he's disoriented and in panic, but when he realized what just happened he is incredibly relieved to see that reader is ok and alive. Maybe he even breaks down and cries, which really shocks the reader cuz they arent used to seeing Logan like this 🥺 Then the reader comforts him and takes care of him until he's back asleep.

As It Should Be

Wolverine X Reader

Content: Comfort, crying, poor Logan cannot catch a break, but you're there to dig him out of his sadness hole, he loves you a lot, lots of fluff while comforting him

Word Count: 1.39k

Warnings: Some graphic violence during the nightmare segment

a/n: Thank you for the kind words! This one honestly got a little graphic in terms of gore, but nothing too bad, so hopefully that’s ok! This was fun to write, enjoy!

No. What had he done? 

Logan stood in a pile of debris and rubble, his white tank top and jeans now caked in blood that wasn’t his. Claws refusing to retract, Logan felt utterly hopeless against his own body. His actions weren’t his own as he trudged towards the only person left alive; you. You were scared, that much was clear by your facial expression and hasty movements to crawl backward away from the mutant. 

“Logan… this isn’t you, please.” You plead, eyes darting around the scene to find help, anyone that is still alive or conscious. All you could take in was the decimated mansion and the mauled corpses of your loved ones. What had taken over Logan? Why did he destroy the very things he risked his life for countless times? 

As Logan looked into your frightened eyes his heart clenched, knowing what was coming next. He just wishes he could stop it. Watching himself tear through his other family hurt like hell, but having to watch you die he didn’t think he could bear it. You were his entire world, the only thing that could ground him when he fell down the pits of self-destruction. He would forever kill himself before harming you. But this version of himself had other plans. 

He trudged over, claws glistening in the light of fire around them. “No, no no no…” You chant, still trying to escape the man but your legs are rendered useless due to your paralyzing fear. With one swift movement, Logan begins to tear through flesh and muscle, watching in horror as his hands mutilate his love against his will. You could do nothing but lay there, screaming in pain, your mutant ability keeping you alive for longer than you wanted to be. Logan wished he was the one being gutted. In a way, he was. Anyone else, anyone but you deserved his wrath. 

Tears clung tightly to his eyes as his hand retracted from your body, lining up for the final shot to the head. As the blade commences its soar towards your skull, Logan jolts up from a lying position and hastily takes in his surroundings. It was dark, he was under a blanket of sorts, and oh, he was in your bedroom. Had it only been a nightmare? No, it was far too cruel and realistic to have been. Even Logan’s mind wasn’t so callous to make him live through such a horror. So then, it must have been real? Logan begins to hyperventilate, raising his hands to eye level. His claws were away, and his rough skin was clean of blood. But, as he blinked, grotesque images flashed through his mind. Sick crimson blood, your blood, begins to stain his hands, drying in a disgusting reddish-brown. He immediately jumped out of bed, went into the ensuite bathroom, and scrubbed his hands raw. 

“No, no no no.” He chanted under his breath as he tried to scrape off the non-existent material. The cold water was not enough to ground him back to reality, Logan eventually gave up and put him back to the skin, sliding down towards the floor to cradle his head in his hands. Thanks to the sound of the water running in the bathroom and Logan’s hard footsteps, you eventually stir awake. At first, nothing seemed wrong, maybe he just had to use the bathroom. But after the sound of continuous water for five minutes you grew increasingly concerned. Deciding to confront the man you carefully walk up to the bathroom door and gently knock three times, not to startle him during whatever he’s doing. 

“Lo?” It was only one syllable, but your sweet voice saying his nickname out loud was enough to send Logan scrambling. The door eagerly burst open, and when it did the sight you were met with shocked your heart. There was Logan on the ground, clearly disheveled, eyes bloodshot and teary. “Oh baby, what happened?” You coo, going to take a step forward but immediately retreating seeing Logan flinch. 

“You’re- you’re real, right?” Logan tentatively asks, sounding scared. Of course, you were real, why wouldn’t you be?” 

“Yes, love.” You stay put in your place. You didn’t want to upset him further.

“No… I ripped you apart. You died by my hands.” You resist the urge to outwardly exclaim how ridiculous he sounded before realizing he more than likely had a nightmare. Logan was prone to bad dreams, but none ever shook him quite as much as this. The only good thing that came out of the consistent night terrors was that you now knew how to soothe him in times like these. 

“I’m right here my love. I’m not hurt. See? I’m perfectly okay.” Your voice stays calm and soothing, not wanting to startle him further. “Touch my hand. Feel my skin. I am right here.” Usually, the sensation of touch grounded him from this distressed state, but this time he seemed hesitant to even look in your direction. 

“I can’t. I might hurt you again.” Logan looked so small and it broke you. He was huddled into himself, still looking at you untrusting. The thought of himself harming you any further plagued his mind, twisting his stomach and making him want to vomit. You were his world, his everything. He curses his body for the immortality that was bestowed upon him because if anything happens to you he wants to follow right behind. 

Realizing you may seem intimidating due to the fact you’re standing tall over his curled-up body you lower yourself and sit criss-cross applesauce across from him. Putting your hand out in between your two bodies you silently sit there, waiting for Logan to take this at his own pace. After a few minutes, Logan seems calm enough to touch your hand. Fingertips only brush at first, then a loose handhold, then a firm grasp on each other. Before either of you knew it you were fully embracing, Logan nuzzling his head into your neck. He needed to take you in every sense, to prove this was real. His nose took in your intoxicating perfume, his hands gripped your curves, his ears heard your soft breaths release from your mouth, and when he pulled back his eyes took in the sight of you. You were as stunning as always even with your messy hair and tired eyes. You were real, you were here, and you were his. 

Seeing as your boyfriend has calmed down you decided to relocate to a more comfortable area. “Let’s get off this gross floor, okay love? Let’s go to bed.” You whisper, carefully tugging him along to your shared bed. Once you two got settled down you were instantly back in his strong arms, protecting you from the rest of the world. You thought all was said and done for the night until Logan spoke up. 

“You were so scared. I made you scared.” He hated seeing you that way. It hurt him. What hurt worse was that he was the cause of it. He now understands it wasn’t real, but your expression was so gut-wrenching he couldn’t shake it off. 

“Logan I know you would never hurt me on purpose.” You reassured him. “Except maybe when you squeeze me to death with your bear hugs.” Logan chuckled a little bit, your humor always lightens the mood. You lay in silence for a bit, almost dozing off until you hear a voice next to you. 

“Thank you for dealing with me.” You smile, leaning over and kissing the man gingerly on the cheek. 

“It’s what I signed up for my love. Besides, you could never be a bother to me.” He smiles back, a rare sight to anyone but yourself. “I love you, Logan.”

“I love you too.” With that resignation you two cuddle, arms and legs entangled with one another’s. Eventually, Logan is lulled back to sleep while listening to the steady beat of your heart. Instead of another nightmare, he is met with a blissful dream of the two of you living together on a mountain, away from all the violence and harm the world holds. Just as it should be. 

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

My thoughts about the Trump assassination attempt

After having a few hours to process this whole thing and see reactions from across the political spectrum, I'm having some thoughts and some feelings.

First off, as I said earlier, Trump is a fucking boss. Take anyone who ran for president in the last 20 years, put them in that exact situation, and I don't think a single one responds by raising his fist and snarling in defiance and righteous anger. They run. They cry. They keep their heads down and the first statement you h ear from them is hours later filtered through 20 different speech writers. Today proved to me that, whatever else he may be, Trump is a genuine bad ass. He's exactly the person I want at the end of a sword pointed the United States. Because he's going to have a sword of his own pointed right back, and he's not going to run and hide when it comes time to use it.

Second, the modern left is full of monsters. The amount of people screaming and crying because this assassination attempt failed actually sickens me. It's one thing to have fantasies about easy solutions to the things that scare you. Hell, I'm not innocent. I've thought about how much better things might be if this politician was no longer around or this activist group got axed. But one of the things I did today was think about how I would feel if the assassin succeeded. And then I thought about how I'd feel if someone took a shot at Biden and he didn't survive. Neither thought gave me any good feelings. Obviously I'd be more upset if Trump died, but today showed me that I don't want us to start down the path of shooting political leaders. But too many people on the left, people who should know better, at least enough to hide their true feelings, have no problem publicly wishing Trump was dead right now. That assassinating presidential candidates was a legitimate tactic--but only against the politicians they don't like, of course.

Fuck that.

Fuck them.

America is better than that. Americans are better than that. We're not some third world shithole like Mexico. We're the greatest country in the world. We're the last bastion of representative government. The last place in the world where freedom exists. And it's time we started acting like it.

Third, I ain't got no time for conspiracy theories. Sorry guys, but this wasn't staged and this wasn't a CIA hitman. Unless real, hard evidence comes out otherwise, you won't ever get me to believe any of the nonsense I've seen floated around. Don't be so lost in the true things the media has dismissed as "conspiracy theories" that you immediately jump to the most conspiratorial explanations first for everything that happens. It's lame and cringe and a lot of people I've seen seriously putting these theories forward should know better. I know we're in our emotions right now, but keep your heads.

Fourth, my heart breaks for the families of the people who were hit with the bullets meant for President Trump. But that's the kind of evil we're facing. Whoever did this decided that the idea of a Trump presidency was so awful that they were okay with shooting innocent people just to stop him. And this is after he was already president and none of the things the media is fear mongering about happened during his first term. Those people just wanted to see a man speak. To have some hope for the future. And some piece of shit shot them because he didn't like a presidential candidate. Or worse, because the TV made him scared.

Fifth, fuck the media. You think you hate them enough, but you don't. The media is the driving force behind our enemies, and there's no such thing as a good journopig. They're all lying propagandists. We just like some of them because their propaganda occasionally hits on the truth.

And that's all I got. None of this is organized, none of this is proofread. These are just the thoughts I've been wrestling with for the past few hours. This is the only place I can get them all down without being interrupted or feeling like I need to censor myself. Do with them what you will.

[kyunzin]

𝐖𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲

character; 𝐍. 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

cw; you accidentally call him daddy while fucking and he finds he likes it more that he probably should

tags; black reader, daddy kink, choking, breeding kink, pregnancy mentioned, mating press, size kink, after care (f!reader)

a/n; another one for me :D

“f-fuck, daddy!”

its like everything stops around you. his breath hitches and he stops fucking you his eyes growing wide though you cant see. you think you’ve just ruined everything with one word and you immediately try to rectify you words tears spilling from your eyes as you regret your very existence.

you’d managed to keep this part of yourself hidden for a long time believing he would shame you for your kink. it takes a second for him to come back to his senses and stops your panicked state by hushing you.

“hey it’s okay baby don’t cry, you can call me daddy if you want”

all is amended from there and the both of you cum when he resumes fucking you. you think that’s the end of it but he can’t help but replay the moment in his head multiple times and he feels himself get turned on every time he remembers what you said. it’s not until weeks later when the two of you fuck, you hadn’t brought up the title again but your surprised when he lets out a gruff groan of.

“you like it when daddy fucks you baby girl?”

you’re so caught off guard that his question nearly has you cuming instantly and you think it’s a mistake if not for the wide grin on his face. only for him to continue mercilessly fuck you without mentioning it again, it has you believing it was a slip of the tongue. letting you slip into false security until only two days later he does it again.

“daddy loves fucking this tight cunt of yours”

this time you do cum on the spot and he’s not surprised when you do, it’s as if he timed it perfectly. the stimulation of him rubbing you clit while he fucks you from behind as he holds you up by your throat with one hand, only for him to whisper such obscenities in your ear, it was only a matter of time. his grip on your throat tightening as he feels your gummy walls constrict around him, two more deep thrusts before he’s locking his hips with yours spilling his seed into you.

you’re to fucked out to even question his word choice and lay there boneless as he cleans you up, massaging your sores and rubbing cream at the irritated area around your throat letting him dress and tuck you into bed. he leaves you clean himself, quickly coming back to join you under the covers wrapping his arms around you the both of you fall asleep well satisfied. you’re fully convinced that he means it as every time you fuck from then on he makes sure to say it riling you up.

✰ “don’t worry daddy’s gonna fill you up”

✰ “daddy’s gonna cum in your pussy make sure you keep it all in”

✰ “all those times i call you mama, gonna make you a mommy for real”

✰ “daddy’s gonna get you pregnant, wanna watch as you waddle around the house ma”

✰ “think our babies would be as tiny as you baby girl”

your response is a scream of “yes daddy!” as he has you bent in half, pounding you into the sheets with your legs pinned next to your head in a mating press. the bead creaking as he slams into you and you wonder if the neighbours can hear the way he’s bullying your cunt, if not the bed then surely your cries of “daddy” give it away.

he dwarfs you in size with his bulging muscles and he ducks you with the intention of impregnating you just to see if you children will be big like him or just as small as you. with the way his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust theres no doubt that his seed will take. if it doesn’t he doesn’t he has no problem filling you with multiple loads until it does. he’s prided with joy when you come back with a positive test and he can wait for that he hears his children running around the house.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[seraphicsentences]

hlllo can you pleas do football!ellie ina rush and really needing her sport shirt that reader is wearing, but since reader is so unbothered to change she takes it off right there n it gets ellie thinking if she should even go!!!!!! maybe a little smutty smut ‼️‼️inluv with yur writinggg

hi baby yes i can thank you for the request sweet girl. sorry this took a little while i appreciate your patience. also yes i know i said i was going on a break yesterday and then proceeded to bang out this entire thing, my bipolar ass got bored. enjoy! <3

“BABE?”

“BAAAABE?” ellie calls louder as you hear her stumbling through your shared apartment, clearly in a rush.

“babe, have you seen my-oh there it is,” she swings into the room abruptly, stopping in her tracks when she sees her much needed football jersey, adorned by yours truly.

“hey els, what’s up?” you ask, propping yourself up on the bed, and shooting her a look so sickly sweet, savage starlight comic in hand.

ellie’s existence can be found in all aspects of you at the moment, from the clothes you’ve “borrowed” and your choice of fine literature, to the purpled bruises littering your jaw and collarbone.

ellie can’t help but let her buzzing pre-game thoughts slow at the sight of you, and fester around thinking mine, mine, mine.

“hey pretty girl, i just really need my jersey for practice. do you mind changing, pretty please? i’m late,” she says softly, leaning over the mattress to press a warm kiss against your forehead.

“aw, fine, i’ll just wear nothing then,” you joke, reaching over your head to pull off the top in one swift move, revealing your bare chest with marks to match your neck.

you watch knowingly as ellie quite literally shutters: caught up in the sight of what’s literally a physical manifestation of the guilty pleasure that is her possessiveness.

—and you revel in the power trip that this is. because how is it that mere nakedness, something that’s more you than anything else you could put on your skin, is enough to make ellie fucking williams crumble.

and so all you do is smirk when, without sparing even a glance away, ellie tosses the held-out jersey lazily over one shoulder and leans in to indulge herself with another kiss; this time a proper, messy one on your parted lips.

“on second thought,” she says, in between breaths, before diving down to swirl her tongue around your hardened nipples, greedily sucking and licking at them like your own fucking baby.

you’re nothing but powerless to her hypnotic ministrations, as much of a fool for her as she is for you, letting low moans out freely from the back of your throat.

moving back up to kiss you like she wants to consume your sounds, the aggressiveness of ellie’s actions leave you nowhere to go but fall backwards onto the bed, chest pressing up to brush your pointed nipples lush against ellie’s chest.

“fuck, baby,” she rasps into your mouth, slipping her hand between the two of you to knead at your breast, calloused fingers thumbing over your nipples. she watches in awe as you shudder at the sensation, hooded eyes begging for more.

“fuckin’ tease,” she mumbles with a smile, mouthing over her previously left bruises with a hot, flat-tongued lick. feeling the vibrations on your throat as you laugh at her, she gently nips at your skin, letting out a laugh of her own as she feigns annoyance.

“shut up,” she chuckles, suffocating your laughs with the press of her mouth, continuing to make out with you in the delicious way that it is to make out with her.

ellie pries a knee between your squeezed thighs, nudging it upwards in such kind offerance to your burning heat— to which you take, hips immediately grinding up in desperation.

but just as quickly as it was given to you is it taken away.

ellie sits up with a jolt, mussing with your hair as she replaces her shirt with the jersey hurriedly. she stumbles towards the door with a guilty look in her eyes, pausing only to ramble, “coach is gonna kill me, sorry babe. that’s what you get for being such a tease! i’ll make it up to you, you fuckin’ minx. i love you!" before sprinting out the door, shoelaces undone.

you lay there, frozen and topless with your panties soaked, and you curse ellie out, that little bitch.