#i'm having a real normal one about this show

[irkimatsu]

Anyone wanna spend Thanksgiving sprawled out in front of Overlord Husk's dinner guests while he rails you into the table?

Overlord Husk/F!Reader, Husk eats a nice Thanksgiving dinner and then helps himself to dessert while everyone else watches. Allusions to a gangbang are made but Husk isn't letting anyone else touch. Oral (both giving and receiving), ass licking (Reader receiving), vaginal sex, facial... and it's not a kink but Husk and Reader end up being pretty rude to an imp based on his species (and also based on the fact that he's an entitled fucking prick), so I may have to explore the implications of that one later. When I'm not writing nasty exhibitionist smut.

18+, obviously!

It’s your first Thanksgiving by Overlord Husk’s side, and it’s just as extravagant as you’d expected it to be.

About fifty people sit at the long table in one of the casino’s VIP lounges, each with heaping plates of food and overflowing glasses of liquor in front of them. Husk’s employees flit around the table, filling dishes before they can become entirely empty, while the crowd becomes more and more rowdy on the bottomless alcohol.

You’d normally be part of the serving staff, but Husk has decided he wants you by his side as his date tonight. He has you seated at the head of the table with him, dressed in a long, sparkling dress that shows just enough cleavage to entice curiosity, while also hiding enough to make it clear that most of tonight’s guests have no business staring.

Not that it stops anyone. As you indulge yourself with turkey, potatoes, and luxurious side dishes you’ve never imagined before, Husk’s guests can’t help but comment on you, as if you’re a doll that can neither hear nor comprehend their words.

“Husk’s still got that pretty thing on his arm, huh?”

“Longest I’ve seen him with the same one. Bet she’s amazing in the bedroom if he hasn’t gotten bored yet.”

“Lucky bastard… think he ever shares this one?”

“God, I hope so. After all this savory food, I could use some dessert! What about you guys?”

Husk initially seemed irritated at all the chatter directed at you, but he’s long since calmed down, his tail no longer lashing, his teeth no longer gritting. You know better than to believe he’s okay with it, though; more likely, he’s just letting his rowdier guests enjoy the holiday for now.

Their bodies will turn up behind the casino later tonight, surely.

One by one, Husk’s guests start denying refills on their plates and allowing the staff to take them away, although they’re more than willing to take more and more liquor into their glasses. Eventually, everyone has finished, including you and Husk, and all the platters have been cleared away, leaving nothing but the ornate table cloth and fifty glasses of drink; not one person had yet decided they’d had enough on that front. They’re already slurring their words and speaking much too loudly, but you know how much Husk’s usual crowd loves to party, so you can’t say it surprises you.

“Mmm, wonder what’s for dessert?”

“I know what I want. There’s something real sweet smellin’ right here at the table…”

“Fuck yeah, there is. Looks nice and soft, too. Can’t wait to sink my teeth in and get a taste…”

They aren’t even trying to be subtle as their predatory eyes keep flicking between you, and whichever companion they’ve chosen to gossip with about you.

“What toppings should we have with it? Some cream, maybe?”

“Should we get the girls to bring us some of the whipped stuff? Or maybe we can make some ourselves?”

“Fuck, why not both? Nothing wrong with some variety! Besides, our tasty little dessert deserves a treat of her own…”

The chatter of the crowd is interrupted by Husk lightly tapping his spoon against the side of his glass. It’s a subtle sound, but contains enough of his commanding charm to get every eye at the table turned toward him, all voices silenced.

“It sounds as though you’re all ready for dessert,” Husk says, a wicked smirk growing on his face. “Shall I get it prepared?”

The crowd begins whispering to each other, not quite ready to celebrate just yet.

“Do you think he’s really-”

“He heard us and hasn’t killed us yet, I think he’s gonna let us-”

One particularly wild-eyed guest is grabbing a staff member and desperately whispering to her to bring over some chocolate sauce and cherries this instant.

Husk’s claws lightly grab your chin, points oh-so-slightly pushing into your flesh, as he turns you to face him. “I’m going to get started on dessert. Is that okay with you, doll?”

Your eyes briefly flick to the fifty greedy faces locked onto you, before going back to your Overlord’s eyes. His pupils are wide, his gaze surprisingly soft… he wouldn’t really offer you up to this mob, would he? Not without asking you in advance? This is really something he should have prepared you for earlier this afternoon…

But deep down, you have to trust him. He’s never violated your boundaries before…

“I’m ready, sir,” you assure him.

“Very good.” He moves in to kiss your lips, so tender and loving, as he takes the zipper of your dress between his claws. “May I?” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Yes, sir,” you murmur back.

The crowd explodes in cheers as he pulls your zipper down, then slides your sleeves off your shoulders. You moan into his mouth as a warm paw engulfs one of your breasts, gently massaging it beneath a mix of fur and claw.

“You all aren’t wrong,” Husk announces to the crowd. “She’s just as sweet as you’re imagining…” He kisses from your lips to your cheek, over your jaw and down to your throat. You whimper as he nips at the front of your throat, and your voice inspires whispers of awe among the crowd. Quite a few guests have run out of their limited patience; they’ve already begun stripping down and tending to their physical needs.

You’re not interested in them. Instead, you run your hand down Husk’s chest, slowly tracing your fingers over the golden buttons of his jacket, before lightly resting your palm on his growing erection.

He lets out a growling laugh with his face still buried in your neck. “You want something sweet too, huh, baby? Don’t worry, you’ll get your fill… as long as I get mine, too…”

He leans you back far enough that you have to grip the tablecloth for balance as he latches his mouth onto your once-neglected breast. He holds you up with a palm pressed firmly between your shoulders as he feasts, suckling and nipping your breast on a determined mission to elicit the cutest little moans out of you.

The crowd is only growing more restless, talking louder and in great detail about exactly what they wish they were doing to you, exactly how they’re going to take you as soon as Husk hands you over. It’s almost flattering, the way they’re admiring your pleasure like this…

But with Husk’s mouth and paws on you, you don’t want to imagine anyone else coming near you. And with the possessive way he’s suckling on your breast, fangs leaving tiny pinpricks in your flesh, Husk doesn’t seem keen on sharing, either.

The hand holding your breast moves down so he can wrap his arm around your waist, and he lifts you with barely any effort. His mouth never leaves your chest as he lays you down on the table, glasses clattering as your back makes contact with the tablecloth. It’s a bit firmer than you’d normally like, but the cloth is surprisingly soft on your bare skin. You pull your arms out from the straps of your dress, then rest your hands on the back of Husk’s head as he feasts on you, scratching the base of his ears in the way that you know gets his chest rumbling.

Both paws start running up the outside of your legs and inside your dress, nails occasionally catching and tearing your stockings. He growls into you again as he hooks his claws into the waistband of your stockings and your panties and pulls, tearing them from your body with the slightest motion. He shoves the tattered remains off the table, and you notice two guests diving to grab the scraps.

How generous of your Overlord, to allow them that much.

He finally removes his mouth from your breast, revealing a bright red ring around your nipple to the audience, and hikes up your dress until everyone can see your nude bottom half.

“Holy fuck, she’s soaked,” you hear an observer say. “Little slut gets off this much from us watching her, huh?”

“Can’t wait to see what she does when we’re not just watching…”

Husk doesn’t say anything; any time spent talking is time spent without his face buried between your thighs, without his rough tongue drawing firm lines along your lips, without his teeth pinching possessive marks into flesh that’s already bruised from previous encounters. Your back arches against his ministrations, mouth and tongue worshipping everywhere he can reach except where you need it most.

“Sir- please-” You beg as you lightly tug his ears, your hips bucking; he’s not the type to just give you what you want right away, not before you ask nicely. “Sir- my clit-”

He pulls back just long enough to sling your legs over his shoulders, then dives back in, moaning as he buries his muzzle into your wetness. You gasp as the fur on his cheeks tickles your soaking thighs, but it’s not quite enough.

“My clit- please suck my clit, sir- please, I need it, please-”

Finally, you must have shown enough desperation. His cold nose presses against your mound as he latches his mouth onto your clit and gently bathes it with his tongue.

“Fuck, Husk-”

Scandalized “ooh”s and laughter roll through the crowd, but you’re too drunk on Husk’s mouth to notice.

“Someone’s forgetting her place…!”

“Hey, sir! Can I punish her for using your name like that? I’m good at making holes like her scream-”

Why should you care about what these idiots have to say about you? All you need is Husk suckling your clit, starting off gently but steadily going rougher, working loud, breathless gasps out of your mouth. He nuzzles into you further, moaning from your taste and from the way your public hair tickles his snout. You’re so lost in his mouth’s vibrations and the fronts of his teeth pressed into your mound that you barely notice the table creaking as someone climbs on top of it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stuff that disrespectful mouth-”

You’re vaguely aware of a thick, red cock in your face, but before you can react to it, Husk roars as he reaches out to grab the imp by his tail and lift him up to his face, leaving you gasping for breath on the table. The nude imp writhes in Husk’s grip like a captured mouse, squeaking out half-formed apologies.

“Did I say you could go anywhere near her?!” Husk growls.

The imp continues stammering, suddenly much less cocky, as the rest of the crowd falls into a stunned silence. “I’m sorry, sir, I thought we were all-”

“I’m the one who gets to eat first,” he continues to snarl. “The rest of you are only getting a show.” Husk turns his gaze from the insignificant thing squirming in his fist and to you, his eyes immediately softening at the sight of you. “Unless you want this thing’s hands on you?”

You’re sure Husk knew your answer before he even asked the question. “Of course not. I don’t care if he watches, but I only want your hands on me… Husk.” You emphasize his name, delighting in how the imp’s face twists in rage as your disrespect.

“Then that settles that.” He drops the imp onto the table with a thud, and the imp immediately scurries back to his seat and scrunches himself down, fully cowed by Husk’s threat.

You’d be surprised that Husk let him go relatively unharmed, but Lucifer knows what’ll happen to him the next time the Overlord gets him alone. Especially since imps don’t have the advantage of near-immortality on their side.

“Any other protests?” Husk asks, and no one at the table has enough of a death wish to speak up. “Good. Now…” He smiles softly as he traces his claw down the side of your face. “Shall we continue with our show?”

“Please,” you gasp. He answers your plea with another kiss to your mouth, his muzzle warm and wet and tasting just as much of you as of him, a delicious combination you’ll never tire of.

“How about you get on your hands and knees?” he asks, his dark velvet voice hypnotizing you into moving before you can think. You roll over onto your stomach beneath him, and his claws grip your waist and pull it off of the table. “Keep your chest down, that’s it…”

Your dress barely clings to your midsection, hiding nothing that this whole crowd wants to see. Instead of the raucous cheering from before, however, all you hear are whispers too hushed for you to make out any meaning from them.

They’re frightened, but still can’t stop staring and commenting… it’s a nice compliment.

“Watch and learn, boys,” Husk says with a laugh as the table creaks behind you. “I’m gonna show you exactly how to treat a pet. Maybe if you can ever figure it out, I’ll even let you touch this one… maybe. If she’ll let you.”

He presses a firm kiss to a fresh bruise on one of your thighs, then the other, then to your swollen, dripping lips. He gently suckles your lips, slurping up your wetness, before licking his way up over your taint and dipping his tongue into your ass. Your whole body shudders as his tongue dips in and out of your sensitive hole, and you can’t help but moan, your voice wordless and shaking.

You think you hear someone mutter, “whore”, but you don’t really care.

“Which hole, which hole…” Husk mutters to himself as he kisses your asshole, then kisses his way back down to your pussy. “Fuck, it all tastes so good, I can’t decide…”

You squeal happily as he suckles your clit again, bringing you closer to climax but not letting you over the edge just yet.

“What do you think, doll? I’m fuckin’ dying to be inside you, but I can’t make up my mind…”

“Fuck my pussy,” is the first thing out of your mouth. You’d love it either way, as long as you get to feel his cock inside you, but his tongue lapping at your cunt has your attention focused there.

“Hm?” He doesn’t move his mouth from you; you’re going to need to do some more convincing.

“Please fuck my pussy, Husk…” You push your waist back, moaning as you grind against his rough tongue. “Fuck me, baby…”

Husk laughs between your legs. “Trying to butter me up, doll?” he asks before kissing you one final time. He pulls away from you for a moment; and you hear fabric and metal shuffling behind you as he removes his clothes and lets them land where they please, whether on the table or on the floor. Once he’s stripped, he moves so that his chest is pressed against your back, his paws cupped around your breasts. “Or maybe you’re trying to show these assholes what they’ll never have?”

Both? You can’t think of any motive besides getting his cock inside you, now, god, now. His body is so warm against yours, his silky fur slides so beautifully against your skin, and the combination of his cologne and the natural scent of his fur is just as intoxicating as the rum you were just drinking.

You don’t need to answer to get him to grind his cock between your lips, his barbs brushing beautifully over your lips and clit.

“I know you can cum just from this, baby,” he murmurs into your ear, then laughs at the pathetic squeal you make as his cockhead catches against your clit just fucking right. “But I’m not feelin’ very patient right now, if you don’t mind…”

“Fuck me,” you gasp out as his hips press against your ass, stimulating you yet also making you feel so fucking empty. “Please… please, Husk, fuck me…”

“You’re so cute when you’re desperate…” He presses a kiss to your cheek as he pulls back and slides forward again, this time stretching you open with his head. The room grows dead quiet, allowing his kisses and the wetness of his shallow thrusts to echo through the air for everyone to hear. You groan as he pushes deeper, his soft barbs brushing wonderfully against your walls and making him feel even thicker than he already is. “Fuckin’ tight, baby…” he groans before another kiss.

He always starts you off slowly; you’ve gotten much better at taking his barbs in the months that you’ve been with him, but he always wants to be damn sure you’re okay before he takes what he really needs. While his long thrusts from head to base normally help to ease you into things, tonight, your gut burns so deeply with need that this sort of preparation only serves as torture.

“Fuck me, Husk…” you moan, voice slurring on liquor and hormones. “I can’t take it anymore…”

“Already? If you’re sure… let’s show them what you can do.” His paws tighten on your breasts as he picks up his pace. He starts out withdrawing just as slowly, before ramming his whole length into you with all the force he can muster. A few strikes to the sweet spot deep inside of you have you clawing at the tablecloth, forehead pressed to the table as muffled moans and whines pour from your mouth.

“C’mon, baby, c’mon…” Husk’s paw gently tugs at your hair, pulling your face off of the table. “Let them hear you…”

After replacing his paw on your breast, he begins fucking you again, leaving less time between each deep thrust. You still can’t keep your head up, but you manage to lay it on its side, allowing everyone to hear your moans and one side of the table to see the way your face twists every time he bottoms out. You see their own faces twist in response; some of them look like they’re about to snap already, especially the pair that are now using your torn panties and stockings as masturbatory aids.

“Harder,” you moan as you thrust your waist back against his. “Fuck me harder!”

“Needy thing,” he chuckles, his grip on your breasts tightening as he kisses over your cheek and neck. Once his mouth reaches your shoulder, he gently sinks his teeth in, his tongue lapping up tiny droplets of blood as he ruts faster and faster. His barbs grow firmer inside you, rubbing against every sensitive spot from your entrance to your core with such intensity that you almost break.

“You guys wanna see a trick?” Husk asks, near breathless from exertion. “Her hands are on the table, mine are on her tits, no one’s touching her clit… but…” He bites your shoulder again, harder this time, as he ruts even faster. Your screams are starting to hurt your throat, but you have no desire to stop letting him know the hold he has on you. Hardened barbs rub against your walls, threatening you with pain but only truly delivering pleasure, until-

“Fuck! Husk!”

He moans against your shoulder as you clench around him, your whole body shuddering with orgasm. It does nothing to stop his frenzy, each thrust extending your climax until you’re not sure how much more you can take. Just as you’re about to cry out from overstimulation and beg him to please cum inside already, he pulls out of you, releasing your shoulder with a relieved gasp.

“God, that was close…” he groans with a shivering voice. “You see that? Once you learn how to make a pussy cum from the inside, you’ll have dolls begging you for a ride.” He leans down again, his heavy breaths warming your ear. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

You barely have any voice left, so you answer with an affirmative hum as he chuckles and kisses your ear.

“Prove you can do that, and maybe I’ll let you show off inside her someday. Until then… how are you doing? Think you can turn toward me?”

Your muscles are heavy as lead, but knowing what’s being asked of you and why gives you the strength to turn around. You lift yourself up on shaking arms and raise your head until your mouth is relatively level with his dick, hard and throbbing and slick with your cum.

“Clean me off?” He barely has time to ask before your mouth is wrapped around his head and greedily suckling down his precum. “Fuck, I don’t even need to ask… good fucking girl…” He pushes on the back of your head, urging you to thrust him in and out of your mouth. You curl your tongue beneath his shaft, and he hisses through his teeth as you press it up against him, cursing quietly whenever it hits a barb just right.

“Babe,” he exhales as he pushes against the back of your throat, smothering you beautifully in his pubic fur and musk. You’re gagging and drooling, but you know he’d let you pull back if you wanted. It’s just that he can tell you’re not even trying to escape. “Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last-” He groans loudly as he ruts into your throat, urging out a few more wet-sounding gags. “Haaah… you guys like that sound, don’t you…” He thrusts again, and swears again. “I know I fucking do…”

He pulls out of your mouth in one fluid motion, leaving you coughing drool and precum onto the lower half of your face. You nuzzle the side of your face against his soaked cock and moan, visibly delirious with lust. “I wanna suck you more… please…”

“I know you do, baby, but I’ve got another idea,” he says as he lightly strokes your head. “You want my cum?”

“Please, I need your cum-” you beg. “In my throat, in my cunt, wherever you want- please-”

“Wherever I want, huh?” he asks. “Then how about you look up at me, stick your tongue out? There you go, so fucking pretty… both hands on my dick, squeeze me real nice…”

You follow his commands by reflex, barely thinking about anything other than how badly you need his cum inside you. You don’t care where; as long as you have that proof that you’ve satisfied your master, your Husk.

“I heard them talking earlier about how they wanted dessert topped with cream,” he says with a laugh. “What do you say, baby? Wanna give the crowd what they want?”

Your breathing hitches as what he wants dawns on you. “Please,” you urge as you jerk his cock with both hands. “Cum on me-”

“No talking, tongue out,” he says curtly, his voice tight; he’s not going to last long, and he needs you back in position as soon as possible. It feels like only an instant before Husk howls, his hot seed spurting all over your face and tits. It’s so hard for you to sit still when you want to catch every drop on your tongue, but even without you trying, he makes sure to give your mouth as healthy a load as he’s given your skin. His knees buckle as the last of his cum dribbles down his shaft, and he moans in what almost sounds like pain as you lick it off of him.

“C’mon, baby, I’m sensitive…” he chuckles as his knees finally give way. He’s able to lower himself onto the table slowly enough to not crush it, and as soon as he’s kneeling at your level, he’s holding your chin and smiling. “Such a good job… that’s my girl.” He kisses you deeper than he has all night, his tongue apparently searching for any drop of his own seed you may have remaining in your mouth. The two of you swap the remains back and forth, lips parted just enough to let the crowd see the glob of white on your entwined tongues. After the kiss breaks, he moves down to your breasts to lick up some of the cum he left there, then moves back up for another heated kiss. “So? How was dessert?”

“Amazing,” you assure him as you kiss his mouth yet again. “You know, I wouldn’t mind seconds…”

“Greedy little thing… the others haven’t had theirs yet.” He kisses you again, then slides off the table and holds out his paw to help you down as well. “I’ll have the staff change the tablecloth and bring out the rest of the desserts. We’ve got cakes, pies, puddings, and of course a selection of sweet liquors. Eat and drink to your fill! We’ve also got cigars, if you’d like to relax after your dessert. God knows I fucking need one right now…”

Already you’re comforting yourself with thoughts of being curled up in Husk’s lap, breathing in his cigar smoke as you drift off to sleep in the haze of your afterglow, his arm holding you close, his wing hiding you from prying eyes who have seen enough and don’t need any more…

Husk turns to help you zip your dress back up; thankfully, it’s long enough to hide the fact that your panties are long gone, and after seeing what they were used for, you don’t particularly want them back.

You’ll be nice and let those two keep their souvenirs.

“When everyone heads home, I’ll get you a few more helpings,” he promises with another kiss.

[nekrotiize]

It's a controversial take because everyone's stupid but I'm never going to stop calling fandom + shipping culture homophobic. Fandoms are consistently extremely homophobic, and shipping culture is consistently even more homophobic.

Yes, the way fandoms center men so religiously is obviously misogynistic. The only people who deny that are themselves misogynists. But the aggressive centering of men and the resultant fixation on male/male dynamics lends to this slimy coating of homophobia that nobody talks about. The misogyny is an issue, clearly. But gay men are, to most people in fandom, toys. We are sex objects to coo over. It's intensely voyeuristic. Every god damn interaction is scrutinized to hell and back, and the second a man shows any kind of emotional connection with another man, it gets pounced on, and he gets thrown into a mill that flattens him down to one of three deeply heterosexual yaoi tropes that are fandom's only way of processing the existence of gay men.

It doesn't even matter what that man is. A disconcerting amount of time, people will start fawning over the idea of literal rapists being gay with zero critical thought applied. As if gay men being painted as and assumed to be sexual predators isn't a method that's been historically used to literally legally murder us. (What the fuck do people think "Gay Panic" means, even?)

Gay men aren't given the ability to be human beings in fandom. We're not afforded nuance. We're accessories, we are constantly objectified, and no one ever takes the time to consider that we have cultures, and that we are real human beings. We keep getting shoved into the most heterosexual boxes physically possible for the easy digestibility of people who do not want to see us as human beings. Semes- sorry, I mean Tops are the taller, older, more masculine, capable men of the relationship. Ukes- oops, sorry again, I mean Bottoms are the smaller, younger, more feminine, and totally useless women of the relationship. It's painfully yaoi. Gay men in fandom are never given the opportunity to be regular men, because people are too busy turning everything into homophobic, misogynistic fetish porn of our existence to be normal for five seconds.

There's something comedic about how many people in fandom want to say they're progressive, accepting. Safe. How fandom is welcoming of everyone. Look, we've made all this representation! And every time, gay men are sex objects, the women are scapegoated to hell and back, the headcanoned trans men are always skinny white softboys not a single day over 21 maximum, lesbianism is maybe acknowledged 0.5% of the time and largely for brownie points, bisexuals are across the board made out to be overtly horny and often sexually aggressive, fans of color are harassed out of the community left and right, anyone on the aro/ace spectrums is called a freak and a killjoy for not participating in shipping, characters on the aro/ace spectrums are heavily included in shipping content with the excuse of "aros/aces can date/have sex like normal people, too!" with zero regard for what our love looks like, and there isn't a single accepted trans woman headcanon to be seen.

Fandoms are circuses full of dirty little liars with cotton stuffed in their ears and Shipping Culture is a disease.

And if you criticize either of them, the most annoying white liberals you've ever seen will start clutching their pearls because how dare you criticize something that's free?! Don't you know a lack of price point immediately negates any criticism?! Just laughable.

[leikeliscomet]

A lot of you make statements pathologising or demonising lack of sex as physically, mentally or socially abnormal then slap 'asexuality is valid' & 'oh but I'm not talking about asexuals I'm talking about NORMAL people' at the end like it does something. It doesn't.

Any and every piece of rhetoric that treats human sexlessness as a lesser form of humanity throws ace people under the bus, even sex favourable aces. Whilst attraction =/= action a lot of aces lack of sex correlates with their identity and it puts the onus on sex favourable aces to be 'one of the good ones' and that's not real support. Plus, it implies non-asexual people are acceptable targets if they fail the sexual quota. They're not even if they're not asexual because bodily autonomy isn't an exclusive pass - it's for everyone.

So yeah, everytime you make them posts about the human brain being programmed for sex or how to be #really queer means to be a sexual being, or how being happy and healthy hinges on being horny or giggle about how everyone needs to have more sex to fix this societal problem and political problem or how real art needs to be horny or whatever then yeah, you might get a posse of those 'annoying' asexuals in your mentions. If anything, all this response shows is that you're not ready to accept your understanding of sexual attraction and what you've been taught it's supposed to be isn't the default, and when you come across sexuality different to it you feel then need to shut it down because it's a 'threat' to your idea of normal human sexuality. It isn't.

[monstersinthecosmos]

First, you write a lengthy post claiming that Marius treats Armand like an animal, and then you wonder why Armand and Marius shippers are seen as outcasts in the fandom. You present humiliation, disrespect and devaluation as something sexual and normal in their relationship. There is a difference between not seeing Armand as an adult and independent person and not seeing him as a person at all. Like, you're literally doing ALL the work for the antis, LMAO.

If Marius sees Armand as a cat, then maybe he shouldn't be left alone with animals

just saying.

Like, 'Armand, Marius picked up a shepherd dog from the street today. You both share the same level of love, respect, and significance! 😍 But don’t be upset; being someone's dog can be great! And remember, you actually like it! 🥺'

BEST GASLIGHTING EVER

Maybe he’s okay with this situation because he doesn’t remember what real kindness feels like? Roleplay in bed for the sake of temporary humiliation is one thing, but to see someone you’re in a romantic relationship with as nothing more than an animal is just messed up. What are you even talking about? 😭

Yknow what.

I’ve been marinating on this all day and thinking about ways to respond kindly, because I think leveraging literacy at people in fandom arguments is really fucked up and that isn’t the person I want to be. I've even had my own journey in VC fandom because when I first joined Tumblr, the big meta writers were condescending as fuck and used to make me feel really stupid for liking Marius, and that's such a destructive and unwelcoming attitude. It took me a really long time to feel brave enough to even share meta, because of those folks, and now I have to worry about you chodes. And it's just a never ending Sisyphean task to cultivate a space where Marius fans feel safe. And that's for EVERY Marius fan, not just the ones you deign pure & good enough to exist. In fact, it even goes for all the book fans in general. I don't give a fuck if someone likes Marius--everyone is allowed to participate if they're not going out of their way to hurt people. You're an adult. Block people and curate your space, it's not my job to do that for you.

Everyone, at every reading level, is allowed to participate in fandom, and I think we can’t be true leftists if we don’t acknowledge the education problem in the US. (Assuming you’re American because Americans Feelings Yakuza tend to behave like this but if you’re not American, good job blending in, it's really embarrassing for you.) I don’t think I can ethically condemn the degradation of our educational system and I don’t think I can condemn this sect of fandom’s violent anti-intellectualism if I don’t also show sympathy for its victims. I'm really sorry that your parents/teachers/whoever failed you this badly and I hope things get better for you, because I don't wish this on anybody.

So when I turn into a cunt in thirty seconds, I want you to know it’s not because I think you’re stupid. It’s because I think you’re a fucking asshole. <3  And I don’t care what the fuck your problem is, it’s YOUR problem, and we don’t have to tolerate this type of thought policing and fascism in a fandom space. You don’t get to talk to me like this just because you don’t like stuff that I write.

Having said that, I also am just, particularly fucking baffled by how incoherent and ideologically unsound this ask is, not to mention how blindingly, willfully ignorant it is. Like, I hate to say this, but it’s SO stupid that I almost can’t believe someone would actually say this to me, and it makes me wonder if you’re like, an outside agitator pretending to be one of these Mariusblr morons to bait me. So I wondered if I shouldn’t validate it with a response, but then I thought,

Fandom deserves to see this lol

You actually did a good job of imitating this attitude that I DO see, for real, in this fandom, so like maybe it’s a public service to bait me to get me to talk about it. So I guess I will.

Now, I did talk about this topic here and I said what I need to say. I already said everything I needed to say on the topic of doting upon the cute little mortal, and to send me this anon after reading that post, the reading comprehension is either ABYSMAL or you’re just pulling an OH SO YOU HATE WAFFLES on me which is like. Why. Lol.

And I can’t help someone who’s determined to misinterpret everything I will ever say, no matter what. But again, I’m kinda posting this as a fandom PSA because this is a great example of the braindead nonsense that goes on in Mariusblr and I think the people deserve to laugh at you lol, so if you want to misinterpret me some more, I can’t help you.

We’re not gonna discuss Marius in this post. What we’re going to discuss is the idea that “””THE ANTIS””” are out to get us, and the irony of couching anti hysteria in this exact message.

So let’s go back to basics and refresh on what the fuck a fandom anti is.

So when you talk about FANDOM ANTIS, I actually have to ask: Babe are you seeing yourself right now? Are these antis in the fucking room? Is the call coming from inside the house?

You don’t get to have a little bit of censorship, or a little bit of harassment.  If someone outside of our fandom saw this post, without the existing context of who Marius and Armand are, they’d think YOU were the anti for telling me how to interpret this ship, not to mention whatever the fuck is this weird kinkshaming. Censorship is bad, full stop. It's not, censorship is only bad when it's the thing I like. Same for leaving people twatty anons. Bullying people is still bad, and you don't get decide who deserves it.

You don’t get to cry about antis and then pop into people’s inboxes to ridicule them because they didn’t read the book the same way you did. You don’t get to lecture me about kink and ship dynamics. YOU ARE NOT FIGHTING ON THE SIDE YOU THINK YOU’RE FIGHTING ON.

And isn’t it ironic that I’ve been Mariusing on tumblr for like, unfortunately, eight fucking years now lmao RIP, and I’ve been harassed about Marius MORE by you fuckin dweebs than I have by the actual antis.

Now, again.

I never want to tease anyone for their reading comprehension. I’m not making fun of you. I’m gonna spell this out because I want to help you, because I can see that reading isn’t your strong suit.

The fight about antis & proshippers & censorship is not a crusade about character apologism and defending ships as being moral, it’s about distinguishing fiction from reality and allowing people to enjoy fucked up art.

You aren’t accomplishing what you think you’re accomplishing here. Like, first of all. I don’t give a single flying fuck about “”the antis””. Let them masturbate in abject shame in the privacy of their pitch black bedrooms. It’s not my business. What horrifies me here is that you yourself are the anti in this situation.

You are in my inbox scolding me for my amoral shipping.

You are in my inbox upset with me because I celebrated that a ship I like is fucked up.

A proshipper would’ve read my post and gone “Eh. I disagree but that’s okay.” And kept scrolling. Maybe they even block me! That’s fine too!

But how the fuck are you gonna sit there crying about antis when you’re the one harassing everybody lol.

And let’s not jerk off here; the sincerity with which you are complaining about antis in my inbox is SO fucking lame. Like can we please go outside?

I’m no stranger to fandom drama (like I said, I’ve been Marius Tumbling for like 8 years and I’ve done my time in Sheith Hell) and I understand when these terms are useful shorthand for a fandom-specific problem. But I also think, what if we grow up and speak honestly about what antis are? It really blunts the harm of the entire ideology, especially when you're misusing it this egregiously, and I think there are times when we deserve to take censorship and fascism seriously, because it's not a coincidence that it's spreading inside fandom at the same speed it's spreading outside in the real world, and I want you to think really hard about which side you're on.

Like, what if we use the term “conservative” or “Frollo” or “fandom police” or “FANDOM MAGA” ?? You come to me upset that I’m somehow giving some boogeyman ammunition when like. THEY ALREADY HATE MARIUS, WHO THE FUCK CARES. When you change the topic from “Fiction is allowed to be fucked up” to “It’s okay to like Marius because he actually didn’t do anything wrong” you’re COMPLETELY missing the point, and in the same motion you are upset with ME for implying that Marius did something wrong.

And it’s so fucking hypocritical? Like this is the same as when the fandom conservatives have ACAB in their bio while also harassing people--you are adopting language to fit into an identity when you don't actually understand what you're saying. I would've thought VC fans--especially Marius fans--would be more aware of cult behavior & groupthink and see the red flags more easily. (Again, having sympathy for you: Please escape this cult.)

How often do we see arguments break out in fandom where we go “If you’re upset with Marius, why aren’t you upset with everyone else?” Or like, I CAN ACCEPT THE MURDERING AND RAPE BUT DRAW THE LINE AT WHIPPING THE 17 YEAR OLD. Like. Where do YOU draw the line?

Is it okay to talk about Marius as a murderer? But we’re not allowed to say that he has some emotional problems? Also didn't one of you chucklefucks accuse me of being ablest lmao the irony.

It’s also fascinating that this camp in fandom is constantly crying about how like, antis DON’T UNDERSTAND ANNE RICE and how MARIUS/ARMAND IS CANON and yet …………………. Was anything I said not also canon? And where do you get the balls to use Anne Rice as a shield when she also said the same things that I said. She wrote the fucking book.

You know what.

I feel really strongly that like, in a fandom, people need to have better etiquette when they complain about THE THING vs THE FANS OF THE THING. For example, I have zero problem with someone coming out of TVA disgusted and triggered and writing analysis of Marius being a disgusting creep. We don’t have the right to tell someone not to feel that way.

What I DO have a problem with is when people say “Marius is a disgusting creep and his fans are gross for enjoying it.”

And what YOURE saying, essentially, is that I’m gross for enjoying Marius in the way I read him.

Not to be like, a fucking, egomaniac, but. I have to say this lol. Do you know who I am?

Are you new here?

Have I not worked hard enough to establish that he’s my favorite literary character of all time and I adore him to death?

But I have different headcanons than you so I’m a bad person?

Anyway.

This has gone on long enough, I think I’ve made my point.

I genuinely can’t tell if someone like ChatGPT’d this anon to me just to rile me up and get me mad at that side of Mariusblr, but the truth is that like. I’ve seen them say these things. I’ve been blocked by these folks. Every time I write meta where I acknowledge that Marius isn’t perfect, they vague me to fuck. So honestly like. It’s not out of the range of possibility and I’m going to take this opportunity to talk about it because some of us are fucking normal about a book and we just want to have fun and post meta and write fics and like. If you don’t like my meta and fics you can simply move along.

And you know what else!!

WE ALL SEE THIS. You make fandom uncomfortable for everybody. Every time I do acknowledge this, I get people in my inbox talking about how uncomfortable you’ve made them and how they became hurt and decided not to share in fandom anymore. That’s you doing that. It isn’t ~ the antis ~. It’s you, because you don’t let anybody enjoy the books the way they want to enjoy the books. And I think it’s really interesting that I’ve noticed that half of fandom sort of cannibalizing itself lately. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that  this whole group of clowns blocked me around the same time, when their jackass ringleader originally got mad at me for flagrantly misunderstanding something I said. This is that same abysmal reading comprehension and violent anti-intellectualism coming back to bite you in the ass. And so like, I have to also ask, if you have some issue with me, maybe consider the source, and if this person is perhaps a complete douchebag who will cannibalize their own friends the second they step out of line. And I wonder if there are any receipts for my alleged atrocious behavior, or if I was always just minding my own business and writing fanfic and sharing meta and being nice to people, and encouraging people to ship whatever they want, and allowing people to read the book differently than I did.

You don’t get to tell people what type of content they’re allowed to create. If you’re very concerned about how people read Marius, maybe write your own meta. This is MY space, not yours, and you’re not going to kinkshame and censor me, and you’re not going to bully me.

This is ridiculous and you’re a joke.

[silkenwinger]

i'm just a station on your way

simon "ghost" riley x reader - a cupid/psyche retelling of sorts

part one

He takes off his mask in his room.

Well, that’s to be expected. Even if he wore it as a security measure, or to hide scars– the comfort of his own private space is enough to make him take it off. It has to be uncomfortable and sweaty, too.

Although, at that point you’d expect to see his face.

“Ghost, I–”

“Don’t even try it, Sergeant. Lights off.”

You didn’t even finish, nor really articulate anything, but you shut up real quick at orders anyway. His mouth is on yours to cover any other protest as he presses you against the door, and your mental freakout ends definitely as his fingers come to brush against your core.

Later, as you catch your breath on the spacious lieutenant issued bed, your curiosity spikes again. You are resting your head on Ghost’s left arm, the one you know is painted with ink well over his elbow. His blond ish hair is surprisingly soft on your cheek. He starts stroking your side with his other arm. Your own hand raises, as if it has a mind of its own, and lands on Ghost’s cheek. He jerks almost imperceptibly, but you still feel it, as close as you are. 

His skin feels normal: a high cheekbone, the hint of a stubble. You don't know why you're surprised.

“Regretting it now?” He speaks, throaty voice and secluded tone, like he actually fears your answer. 

“Nah,” you answer, “checking you are real is all.”

Nothing much changes in your outward relationship after you two start sleeping together. You try not to show your undying loyalty to him to others, and he's just good at not letting anything out. Your trysts are mostly consumed in his room, and sometimes, exceptionally, in yours. You don't really know why he chose you over anyone he could have– and you know he's liked, since you have ears and eyes. At least in those hours spent in the darkness he’s all yours and not the country’s. 

It’s like you know two versions of the same man. The Ghost that looms around base, kills enemies quietly as they strangle out a choked gasp, and always has a way out of a building on fire. The Simon that cuddles you, lets you bury your nose in the juncture between neck and shoulder, and navigates his room in the dark, even though you told him you could close your eyes while he turned the lights on.

You reckon he really, really does not want you to see his face. But as he is in his right to be insecure, or really careful about his privacy, you’re in your right to let it affect you. Not a lot. Just a little bit. 

Who are you, even, to get offended by it? It’s not like you’re his girlfriend. By certain metrics you’re barely friends.

One day while you’re in training you start putting on your gear distractedly. It’s yet another trail course that will have the corporals coughing up a lung, since there’s a high chance of it being orchestrated by Ghost and/or Soap. There’s a couple of guys you’re especially worried about. Not to be the classic bleeding heart of a woman in the army, but… ugh. 

Suddenly you feel a pull behind you. Ghost stands at your back, his hands fiddling with the last clasp you had yet to hook. He latches it quickly and tests its resistance, brown eyes going over the rest of the gear. You look at him from your shoulder and smile at him. He has his ways of caring.

After the predictable hardship, you’re in the mess trying to enjoy some peace when a tray slides in front of your eyes. An abundant serving accompanies a satisfied Soap: a man whose greed (but also generosity) knows no bounds. He’s whistling now, rubbing his hands as if he’s some animal ready to dig in.

“Hi?” you start, unsure. You two are on pretty good terms, you may even reach the status of friends, but you thought you had made it clear enough you didn’t want to talk. Not clear enough, it seems.

“Hello. Mind if I sit here?”

“No.”

“Good. Anyways…” He then starts recounting the whole morning exercise, going over the most problematic parts. You nod at his remarks and add small comments, but it’s mostly a solo endeavor. He has no qualms over it and seems perfectly content with your input. You’re done eating while he’s still halfway through, and you’re thinking of ways to slip off, citing paperwork or the likes, when he stops talking about work and puts a hand on his jaw.

“Oh, lass, I was wondering… how’s Ghost’s mug, by the way? You see we’ve been working together for a while and I’ve never got to see it, got all curious about it.”

You try to muster an expression of pure neutrality as you deny it all.

“What are you talking about?”

“Come off it now… no sense pretending, no?”

“No, Soap, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What, are you ashamed? No need to be ya keen. I see the appeal.”

You’re now pretty sure blood has risen to all of your face. You’re being read so easily and quickly you’re asking yourself why the fuck did you even go through all those torture trainings if Soap can dismantle you this easily.

“Okay. How do you even know?”

He smirks, blue eyes glinting. “I didn’t but now I do. So? How’s it?”

You feel yourself dry up even more and immediately rush to damage control.

“You can’t tell anyone. Really, Soap. You know it’s not allowed.” He scoffs and even has the gall to shrug.

“No one gives a fuck, really. Price can’t talk cause he’s been sleeping with the head nurse anyway.”

“Yes but Ghost is my superior, you know that’s not-”

“Sooo? Is he ugly?”

“Soap!”

“Lass!”

You almost yell, but bite your own tongue. The last thing you need is the whole mess turning to see what two sergeants are arguing about. You bury your face in your hands. Might as well come clean.

“I haven’t… I haven’t actually seen it.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“But you’re sleeping together! I even saw you coming out of the barracks once, and today he was all over you.”

“Yeah, and I’m telling you we are doing it in the dark.”

“You’re kidding me…” he says, jaw-slacked and eyes wide. Then he recovers and crosses his arms, expression morphing into a serious one.

“Now, that’s just not proper.”

“Are you my mother telling me it’s bad to sleep with someone who’s not my boyfriend?”

“Not that… I’m talking about not showing your face to the girl you’re with. Pure shite behaviour in fact. I’m kind of disappointed in LT, gonna be honest.”

You feel an urge to defend Ghost at all costs. Yes, it hasn’t been easy. But you’ve been coping. Being with a restricted version of him is better than not being with him at all.

“It’s fine. You know how he is… I can’t force him anyway.”

“Nah, lass. He’s being a monster about it. And I know it bothers you as well, can see it in your eyes.”

“Soap…”

“I’ve said my piece. I can talk with him-”

“What?! Are you crazy? You’ll shut your gob, Soap, or help me God.” You breathe in once, twice.

“I get what you’re saying, okay? But as I said it’s fine. We’re nothing official. Whatever comes… it’s enough.”

He levels you with a look that makes you want to claw out of your skin. But he just sighs and gets up. He takes his tray in one hand and comes to touch your shoulder with the other.

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

You’ll think and think again.

[narcissisticpdcultureis]

Questioning npd culture is... (Half a vent)

"do I actually do that or do I just think I do?"

"Well I think like that all the time but it's not like I ever do anything about it"

"no one else would ever think of me like that so it must not be true"

"ok but is that a symptom or am I just a shitty person?"

"am I a hater or am I just actually right about everything all the time? Is me having an ego wrong or am I just actually perfect?"

"am I blowing things out of proportion or is wanting you to die a justified response to this situation?"

"if they don't answer me they must hate me and want me dead so I must have showed them how awful of a human being I actually am"

"is the disorder defined by what I do? Or is just thinking this type of shit enough to be a problem?"

"yeah I've always had this idea that I was going to be famous and loved forever and i break down when I think about how that's probably not going to happen and I'm supposed to be just like any other person because I'm Not, i'm different than all of them and i deserve to be remembered more than they do, but that's not me being irrational, i'm just confident in my own abilities" (i'm not)

"is this a normal level of confidence or am I getting an ego about this because people are praising me? but yeah I am just better at it than everyone else"

"yes getting in arguments online makes me so fucking anxious but it's the only place I can do it without real consequences and honestly I don't care about this at all I just want an excuse to laugh at you because it makes me feel better about myself"

"i don't think I could ever be able to accurately recognize this in myself but i also don't think anyone else could either unless I told them specifically (and then it wouldn't feel genuine, I'd feel like I just manipulated them and i'm faking because I want to seem 'edgy' or something)"

.

[doodledrawsthings]

Scavengers Reign warmup fan art

[vaguely-concerned]

I've been picking mostly only the essential flirt options with lucanis in the romance so far (I've personally found the dynamic much more natural and mutual when you do that, more like forming a solid friendship slowly and inevitably becoming something else and less like you keep pushing on him and getting little back b/c he seemingly just gets overwhelmed and goes into freeze instead), and I think rye is a pretty hard person to read at the best of times even though he's been Down Real Bad from pretty early on and their chemistry as people is naturally really good. so the way the almost-kiss plays out in this playthrough feels a lot like it has the added layer of lucanis realizing that no but for sure rook is flirting and not just being kind or a good friend* it IS actually happening it's not just wishful/fearful thinking!!! and then uh. maybe going a bit too hard a bit too fast in all the excitement at that revelation haha

*in lucanis' defense he has seemingly literally never had a friend who wasn't his cousin-brother before, under those circumstances I suppose some confusion is extremely natural if not outright expected lmao

[howtodisappearcompletelyand]

20/10 stars little guy

[mayashesfly]

I can't believe Vox having cables coming from his back is Canon!

Vox's bare antennas is so cute too <33

The Voxval crumb is delicious <333 They're so married

The way this is the only released reference sheet that has another character in it too lmao

[kingoftheu]

the correct way to deal with the escaped dinos in the Jurassic World Series is to kill them. Kill them all. Invasive species, absolutely going to ruin every ecosystem they enter. no we do not have to live in harmony with them, they are unnatural beasts in fact anyone with any enviromentalist backbone would say you need to kill them to keep nature safe. i do not hold this against chaos theory because "rawr dinosaurs" is a fun show I love it, but if I lived in universe you have to understand I would be calling for their eradication and calling Darius and Ben stupid fucking idiots on national television.

[angelsdean]

ruthlessly deleting old 2021/2022 posts (not by me) from my dean studies tag like *click* un-incorporating that from my beliefs system! also the way SO many posts have me like ok uh-huh good aaand then say one completely wrong thing that loses me. it's so many posts.

[waterfallofspace]

When a character has not only a canonical allergy, but a reoccurring canonical allergy >>>>>

Especially when there's no actual reason for it to occur again?? Just cause they wanted to?? An almost entirely sneeze/stuffed up driven allergy.... 🔥���

[msnihilist]

Another headcanon for the Monday-verse I have is that, unlike our Doc and Drew, Doc and Drew Monday planned for Zak to be born with his powers.

...If only because I can't think of any other reason why the two of them would have had a child in the first place, especially not continue to keep him around despite the fact that they detest him.

[softichill]

Some of my bugs that I doodled in ibis :] (names in alt)

[wreckedhoney]

cant fuck with fandom takes that defuck extremist characters. blorbo set fire to multiple buildings killed dozens and will do so again. every incident is accompanied by a rant about some warped issue or pathetic self perspective and a lot of bared teeth. then enough people who watched the same thing i watched will just.. not register that this is an angry personality. objectively bad and toxic. among other things. like suddenly seeing takes about this genuine asswipe being a normal chill person. where did u see this. what happened. where is my genuinely unwell off-putting blorbo. who the fuck is this