#i'm going to try my best to post every day but

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stare at Steve's large hand as you fight the urge to fidget. He rests is on your thigh, fingers curled just along the inside. He rubs the seam of your pants as his warmth radiates through the fabric.

He steers with his other hand. His posture is slack with nonchalance. Everything is going exactly as he planned and you're just trying to keep up. 

He hums as he tickles your leg. His hand sidles closer to your pelvis and he squeezes. He idles at the red light and smirks at you.

"You got me worked up again. I just wanna pull you across the car..." his eyes flick up and down. "You got thighs that make a man a glutton."

You twitch. While he scares you, his words send a tingle through you. He's skilled at twisting your flaws into beauty. You almost believe every word he says.

"Steve," you touch his hand gently. "The light's green."

"Oh, yeah?" He flicks his fingers coyly towards your cunt. 

You blink and point through the windshield. He glances at the traffic light and chuckles. He leans on the gas, keeping his hand in your lap.

"You should wear skirts," his nails graze the thick seam again. "You got the legs for it."

"I... I like pants." You say softly. 

"You got a good shape. Not just from the front," he ignores your protest. "That dress you wore... mmmph. I got buy you some more."

"You don't have to do all that," you clutch his hand to keep it in place.

"I want to, sweetheart. Lots of things I wanna do." He squeezes and you squeak at the spark it lights in your guts. "Firstly..."

He peels his hand away and turns into a lot. He draws up to the storefront and you glance up to read the big gold letters mounted over the shining windows. You rub the warm patch he left on your leg as you stare at the jeweler's shop.

"I thought about a crown but I'm thinking that's a bit much," he snickers. "I think a ring will do."

You look at him, stunned. It shouldn't be a surprise. He's been clear. As straight to the point as you wish you could be. Yet it's all so sudden.

He gets out first and comes around to open your door. He pauses and skims your figure with his eyes. He tuts.

"Definitely needa get you a sweet dress."

You stand and he shuts the door. His hand finds your lower back and he ushers you toward the shop. The world around you is hazy with futility. You know you can't stop him but there's that little human urge that won't go away.

He opens the shop door and lets you through first. He struts in behind you.

"Hello, sir," he greets the man behind the counter. "Lovely day."

The chubby man with the long mustache drooping around his lips winces. He looks up from the board of earrings in front of him and gulps. His brown eyes widen.

"Rogers?" He coughs.

"One and the same, Ahmad," Steve affirms as he nudges you forward. "Long time."

"Yes, sir. Very long. I thought you were in bars." The man nervously taps his fingers on the counter top.

"Behind bars." Steve corrects him. "Did my time. Now I'm out. And my lady needs a ring."

"Your... yes." Ahmad peeks at you and bows his head. "Very beautiful. Lovely lady." He clutches his hands together. "And you are such a handsome man, how could you not have a beauty."

"Yeah, yeah, Ahmad, you don't gotta do all that. Not to say she isn't a stunner." Steve nears and crosses his arms. He leans his elbows on the glass display and peers through. His shoulder round and he looks even bigger.

"Well, sweetheart. You want one diamond. You want a diamond covered in diamonds..." he bends his neck and squints at the selection.

"Oh, er, I'm not picky. Something small is fine."

"Be picky," he insists. "I don't want fine, I want perfect." He beckons you forward with a glance. "Come on."

You sniff and come forward. Ahmad smiles at you, "let me know whatever you like, miss."

"Thanks," you look down. The sparkle is too much to focus.

You're drawn to one in particular. A purple oval surrounded with little diamonds. You stare and chew your lip. You should look for something smaller.

"Which one's got you?" Steve shifts, angling toward you as he leans on one elbow.

"Well, that one's not bad," you point to the plain silver band with a small circle diamond.

He tuts. "You know, I see right through you. Be honest."

You rub your neck. "I don't wanna spend too much--"

"Don't fret about my money," he warns. "Which one?"

You drop your hand and point again. "That er, purple one. Sorry I don't know the stone."

"Amethyst, yes," Ahmad reaches underneath and takes out the entire board. "The stone of clarity and control. You must have a good head on you."

"Oh," you murmur and shrug. Not really. If you knew better, you wouldn't be standing here with this man.

Ahmad pulls free the ring and offers it up. You can only stare. The nicest jewelry you have is a hand-me-down silver chain and locket from tour mom.

Steve takes it then grabs your hand. You flinch as he stands at his full height and slips the band around your finger. You watch him push it down to your knuckle. He runs his thumb over it then cradles your hand in his. He lifts it higher to admire the stones.

"That the one?" He asks.

You stare at the ring. It's gorgeous but too much. You don't say so. You can't. 

You nod. "It's very pretty Steve. We could... wait until we get everything else sorted."

"It's sorted," he insists.

He lifts your hand and kisses your knuckle. You lower your eyes as he lets you go. You clasp your other hand over the ring as he turns to Ahmad.

"How much?" He reaches for his wallet.

The number makes your chest drop. That's more than your rent. A lot more. 

He counts out bills. You've never carried anything more than a couple hundred and that was for a deposit or something. He has a whole bank on him. 

It's another clue. He's not just a man with money, the way he wields it, the way others react to him. He has power.

"Th-thank you," you croak and pinch the ring. Steve stops you.

"Don't take it off. Never." He wraps his hand around yours and pushes it down. "That means you're mine." He puts his wallet away and looks back at the jeweller. "I'll be back for more. She'll need a full set."

"Yes, sir," Ahmad puts away the board of rings.

Steve takes you out. The sunlight is warm and bright, a strange sheen on the grey day. You can only watch as he whittles away the pieces of your life and rebuilds to his liking.

His hand slips off of yours and trails up your forearm as you near the car. A low growl rises in his chest as he lets you ahead of him. He spreads his fingers across your ass and kneads. You yelp on surprise.

He reaches around you and opens the back door of the car. You reach back to clamp down on his wrist. You trip on your toes as he slaps your rear.

"Just a quickie," he snarls. "Seeing you in that ring..."

"Steve. Please. We can go--"

"Get in," he commands and pinches your ass again. "On your stomach."

"Huh?" His sudden shift has you off balance. "Steve--"

"Now," he rasps as he grips the door. "Pants off."

You turn to look at him in horror and catch his hand as he tries to grope your chest. "I don't want to... here."

His eyes narrow and his jaw squares. He scoffs and shakes your hand off of his. He frames your face with his thick fingers and leans in.

"I'm not fucking asking. Let's celebrate." He pushes his nose and forehead against yours. "I waited before. No more."

You wince and pet his knuckles. You whimper and he lets you go. You bat your eyes and slowly sit on the back seat.

He's big enough to block your view of the parking lot. You tremble as you unbutton your fly. Disbelief numbs your touch. You lift yourself and peel off your pants, your underwear twisting down inside them. 

He looms over you and taps his fingers on the roof. You untangle your feet and drop the clothes onto the car floor. Steve sighs and it blows through in an icy wind. 

You shimmy back into the car. You turn over and he growls again. As you spread out on your stomach, he crushes in behind you, a knee between your legs.

He shuts the door as he crams into the back seat. He pushes your left leg over the edge of the seat. You quiver as you're exposed to him.

He bends over you and hooks his arm under your neck. He kisses the back of your head and pets your cheek. He inhales your scent.

"Can't help myself, sweetheart. This is what you do to me."

He slips his hand between your bodies, wriggling over you as he plucks open his fly. He grunts as he shifts his weight, the lack of space as suffocating as he is.

He guides his tip down along your cheeks. The fabric of his slacks tickles your skin. He prods along your entrance. He drags his hand free and hooks it beneath you.

He shoves between your folds and rubs your clit. He puffs into your hair as he teases you. His legs are bent up, cramped against the door as he smothers you. He bows down to nibble at your neck.

You slicken against his touch. He swirls and flicks as you close your eyes and clutch the edge of the seat. Humiliation scalds over you. What if someone sees.

He rubs you from clit to entrance and back again. He teases you until you moan, the soft mewl the final surrender. 

He frames your cunt with his long fingers and spreads your lips. He tilts his hips down and guides his tip between his knuckles. You hold your breath as he delves into you.

He rumbles as he dips into you in a single slow thrust. When he's at his limit, he shudders. He rocks his pelvis and you clench around him. His arm tightens around your neck and he kisses your jawline as he groans.

The wet noise of you clinging to him fills the humid space. He pumps into you, the tempo cloying in your ears. You babble as he grunts, each thrust more eager than the last.

His patience shatters as he hammers into you. You arch your back to ease the blunt force of his intrusion and he plays with your clit as your walls quiver around him. You heave down into the seat as his feet bounce of the window. The cacophony makes you dizzy. 

"Oh, sweetheart, you're so good." He snarls as he pounds you into the seat. "Hm, the way you're made for me."

He rolls his fingers furiously and you bite your lip. A fire-laced tide washes over you and floods your brain. You whine through your orgasm as it drips out around him.

"That's it, doll. You know I'm the best man for you," he pushes himself up, staying inside you as he unloops his arm from your neck. 

He pulls your hips up as he readjusts. You hunch down onto the seat, slack as you hang from his grip. He moves you up and down his length, slamming you back against his pelvis. He moves you to his will, growling and grunting, nails digging into your hip. Your insides twine around him.

He buries himself inside you as he holds you in place. He exhales shakily then starts again. He bucks into you as he gropes one side of your ass. The car shakes with his fury.

"Doll, I feel you clinging to me," he puffs. "Mm, you're so sweet... mmm, I'm gonna marry you and do this every day..." he grunts and bends over your again. "I'm gonna fuck you... til death do us... part."

He ruts until he collapses. He flattens you under him as he spasms and gushes inside you. You shiver as he spills out, his hips rocking slow and uneven as he rides out the aftershock. 

Your breaths are shallow, mingling damply in the closed space with your sweat. He groans and kisses your shoulder. He takes your hand brings it to his lips, kissing the wring on your finger.

"That's why you wear a skirt, baby." He pushes in as deep as he can. "I want access at all times."

[thebluediner]

MANCHILD BLURB

part 2 to this blurb

she was pretty one and had charming crystal blue eyes and seemed to never be in relationships ( completely unrelated to her being a popular girl on campus) which you've preassumed to be because it was a choice. god were you wrong

fucking manchild.

you didn't hate her. you didn't, you were just constantly annoyed and frustrated with her.

she attempted to convince you it's was post honeymoon phase thing but you really think the problem started when you moved in together.

you didn't know she'd be filthy and childish to this extent.

according to you isn't it common sense to wake and open your curtains and windows when you wake up. not, to stay couped up in a room that completely reeked with all the food that has ever made it to the bed. make the bed and make the room look representable not because that's how you like it but because you were sure that's how everybody else was taught growing up, no ?

apart from that billie had no concept of cleaning up after herself whether it was clothes or dishes laying around kitchen counters and the sink. at first you laughed and picked after her but then you would leave for maybe days and come back with everything pretty much crowding the floors and the sinks.

weren't dogs sensitive to smell or some thing because you really did think shark agreed with you on the fact billie was filthy.

yeah you're in college but still you have this feeling that she was spoon fed back at home.

"come on honey what'd you expect she lived in a frat house" you're friends would try and defend her but you weren't hearing it at all.

"so ? I'm not one of her frat sisters I'm her girlfriend" you whined rolling your eyes before crossing your hands on your chest.

what is billie doing for her to be this inattentive. well you'd like to know too because as much as you can gather she sits on that damn chair so much it has a dent playing online games you can't even begin to fathom that makes her shout cuss words over cuss word that you'd wish you could yell at her to get her to finally act right or goes over to her frat house to clean up to throw another one of their parties.

that what pissed you off she knew how to clean she just didn't do it herself in your shared apartment.

you've taken every advice you could especially the one about communication being the best policy.

yeah well when you brought it up she pulled you closer kissing up on your neck to your jaw then softly on your cheek.

"don't stress over it babe my mom's coming this weekend she's got this" billie would say with a smile on her face like that just solved all your problems.

"are you serious?" you ask your face scrunching in confusion because did you really just hear that.

so that was one of it.

another thing with billie was she was too much of a mamas child. you loved maggie. you really did, especially when she was with you individually without billie anywhere near.

god forbid they were in the same room. billie would somehow turn back into being a complete baby and not in a aww that's so cute but in a aren't you too old for that.

the time she was suppose to take you on a date on valentine's day. yeah, she cancelled that to take her mom on the same reservation without you because apparently they restaurant couldn't take an extra person.

the whole car rule thing. the fact that billie's mom is suppose to sit on the passenger seat didn't bother you at all you'd gladly take the back seat. the thing that made you upset was when billie would literally tell you to get out and sit at the back and she was not nice about it.

you'd discuss that with your friends and some were with you and didn't like it but some were more on her side.

"I'd let my mom sit on the passenger side too" one of your friends argues.

"no but to legit tell your girlfriend to get out and go to the back seat and it doesn't end there they ignore her the entire ride" your closest friend defends you.

because really? it's like the second your ass hits her backseat chair you were invisible. you'd try and add in something to the conversation but she'd completely talk over you.

another thing was the amount of weed she smoked for fuck sakes okay maybe not the intake but her actions while she was high.

you get it was college but she was always and you mean always high on something it was either weed , gummies or any other variation she could get.

you'd talk to her about important things like dates she should keep in mind, your feelinge about certain things or how you ask her to do something but she'd totally forget.

her reason behind forget?

"babe I was too high to even hear what you were saying"

trust me the jokes some of the students would make on campus regarding this certain thing were horrific. one time you overhead a group of girls talking about your relationship with billie and one of them said it loud and clear.

"do you think she loves her or is she just high?"

that one stung real hard.

this wasn't a problem when you started dating because you didn't live with her twenty four seven to know how she functioned when she wasn't texting you.

but you didn't smoke so you didn't get any of it as much as a person who smokes would. so you sucked that in.

she sucked at dates too.

her version of a date was her sitting next to you in the lounge area while she moved her gaming to the same room. yeah because laying there not receiving any type of attention is just so ideal for a date.

or another one of her great ideas for a date is when she takes you out to frat parties. the same ones she spends milliseconds with you and disappears to live her jock life inbetween the cheerleaders and her team mates.

the one time you finally planned a date was at the new vegan restaurant ( mind you , you weren't even vegan but you wanted to try this for her) in town but she showed up late and instead of apologising and coming with flowers. she came into the place panting and slidding in the booth with the following words.

"damn I forgot about this, good thing I ran into one of your friends on campus" she says looking at you dead in the eyes like she'd just said the most romantic thing in her life.

"fuck you eilish you're wasting my time" you spat standing up abruptly grabbing your purse.

"baby wait I'm only a couple of minutes late" she stood up as an attempt to chase after you.

"it's been A FUCKING HOUR!" you scream the last three words trying to emphasise how embarassed and fuming you really are.

"woah babe calm down" billie's eyes travel around the room noticing how many eyes are on the both of you right now.

"you know I hate waiting" you accuse her pointing your index finger at her before turning away and leaving the restaurant.

a/n:anyways I love manchild guys !!!!

[literallypyro]

that civet shapeshifter ask was really nice and got me thinking-

What about mercs x reader that can shapeshift into a larger animal like a lion/tiger or bear? (I would personally choose tiger lol i love them) and so reader can really do some damage on the battlefield in their animal form, or be able to do some full-body cuddling cuz their so big (like a dog that tires to be a lapdog even though theyre completely sitting on their owner lol)

I love it, this sounds fun! I'm going with tiger for this one. I'm sorry it took longer to post than I said before. I hope you can forgive me 😖

Hope you enjoy!

Edit: it has come to my attention that this post may be glitched, so if anything is missing for you, message me and I'll send you a screenshot of whatever part it is!

Welcome to the jungle

Scout:

-Are you kidding? This is the coolest thing ever!

-Uses you as a pillow at every possible moment. If you're laying on your side, he's there using your belly like how people set up their pillows as a makeshift chair on their bed

-The first time he sees you tear someone apart, he's just in awe. He's somewhere between falling deeper in love and entirely disturbed

-Literally just standing over here like "why did I like that so much ಠ_ಠ"

-Pretends to be asleep on the couch so you'll carry him to bed

Soldier:

-Please wrestle with him in your tiger form

-Definitely brags about you, let's be so honest

-The feeling of your fur actually comforts him. If he's having a bad day or feels the team is looking down on him, he just asks to put your tiger form

-This also means he'd snuggle into your fur at bed time. He's not really sure what it is about your fur, it's just nice to him

-If he's being too loud, literally all you have to do is lay on top of him like a weighted blanket, and he's zen

Pyro:

-They just see you as a big cat, to be honest. Doesn't really care about the distinction

-Even though they can't feel your fur through, they like to pet your tiger form. Especially when you try laying on them like you aren't a roughly 300 pound murder cat

-Loves the cuffing noise you make when you're happy

-Out of everyone, they would have the easiest time communicating with you while you're a tiger. Do I even need to explain?

-Gets a little tiger plushie to keep on them when you're not around

Demoman

-He was strangely chill about the whole thing. He genuinely doesn't treat you much different in your tiger form

-He does have a couple questions, like if you can eat raw meat and other stuff like that

-Kinda likes when you lay on him when he's doing nothing. Low-key giving those photos of guys with Great Danes that didn't know it was a Great Dane so they let it sit in their lap as a puppy and never kicked the habit

-Please let this poor guy breathe, he's not gonna tell you to move

Heavy

-Arguably the best to cuddle with

-He's a big dude, your tiger form is a bulky cat to him at best, not even a beast of the jungle

-If you start causing trouble, he just throws you over his shoulder and walks away, acting like the claws don't bother him

-Would probably enjoy fighting by your side the most, and would laugh as he recounts your kills with you from least to most brutal

Engineer

-He would ask if he can create a type of sentry he could strap to your back. Just imagine! Mobile sentries would be revolutionary!

-Completely okay with it if you act like a guard dog, both on and off the battlefield

-Probably one of the mercs who would most enjoy cuddling with your tiger form as he falls asleep. He works hard, he carries around countless heavy machinery every single day. He deserves a giant, fluffy, breathing pillow to cling onto

Medic

-Absolutely ecstatic to see what happens when he ubers a literal tiger

-Would stop whatever he's doing to watch you tear someone limb from limb

-Mans is nearly always working on some fucked up medical experiment, so most of the time, cuddles would look like you laying at his feet while he writes in his medical journals or something

-Would honestly ask to run tests on you, but wouldn't push any boundaries for several reasons

Sniper

-Are you kidding? Do whatever you want. Lay on top of him while he sleeps. Who needs air, anyway?

-Stg, he would supply you with raw meat if you eat it in your tiger form

-Lowkey caters to your tiger form

-Would have you guard him in his sniper tower. With your sense of smell, he's basically invincible to spies

-Onther than Pyro, probably the happiest to have a shapeshifting partner

Spy

-Please don't try to sit on him. He wears expensive suits he doesn't want fur on, and he smokes, so you'll be suffocating him

-Would have you create distractions during battle so he could go on a backstabbing spree

-Let's be so honest right now, he would give you a cloaking device so you could use it for psychological warfare against the enemy team. They probably wouldn't expect an invisible tiger

-With enough time, he would eventually give in and let you on the bed in your tiger form. But seriously, please let him breathe

[indignantlemur]

Emigre Deep Lore: The Imperial Idiot

I feel like you guys are sleeping on Emperor Abessathaan, so I'm gonna draw more attention to him.

Abessathaan had the horrendous misfortune of ascending to the throne during a time of religious conflict and civil unrest on Andoria, and he chose the dumbest possible approach to handle it. Instead of intervening politically and using the sway the Imperial Clan had over the masses to break up the conflict and find a sensible resolution, he brute forced the problem - and unified every single faction against a single target.

This is what modern historians refer to as a poor life choice.

Abessathaan only compounded the issue when he forcibly declared himself the only religious leader Andoria needed, in what seemed like a fit of megalomania at the time but was probably closer to a very desperate move by a politically obtuse individual. Worse still, his claim was that this declaration came as the result of a vote voluntarily taken by the heads of all the major religious orders at the time. This was demonstrably untrue, as he had the first religious leader to openly disapprove executed on the spot, though it does technically still qualify as a unanimous verdict if all the dissenting parties are dead at the time of the vote.

Abessathaan, as one might guess, was not a subtle creature, and he was much hated at the time.

No, really. The man was challenged to (and fought in) a life-or-death duel forty-seven times in six months. That's literally a duel every 3.8 days. Not only that, but he was also dodging assassins the entire time. Everyone wanted this guy dead.

(Rumour has it his own children couldn't stand him, either. While the rumour cannot be truly verified one way or the other, historians have noted that many of them took it upon themselves to obtain command postings rather far from home, and for very long stretches of time. Certainly, much longer than was usual for the era.)

Now, just imagine how it was back then:

Imagine being the Andorian equivalent to a scheming ex-Pope, desperately trying to kill off an idiot Emperor who has wrongfully stripped you and your faith of their political power, their lands, and their identities. You send assassins. They fail. You send more assassins. They fail. You send even more assassins. They fail. Nothing is working, and soon your coffers are looking increasingly anaemic.

One of the leaders from the Other Religion sends you and someone from the Other Other Religion a secret message, which essentially boils down to:

Detestable Foes, (Desties, if you will) I'm at my wit's end. I've sent thugs in. I've sent poisoners in. I've sent assassins in. Nothing. Nothing is working. I hear your efforts have been equally fruitless, which of course surprises no one. I propose we set aside out differences, many and varied as they are, and work together, or each of us funding our own separate attempts is going to bankrupt us all. Our differences may be profound, but our goal is the same.

This is enlightening, because now it's not just you who has failed to achieve your lofty goals of murdering The Imperial Idiot, but two other equally well-appointed enemies, with equally deep coffers... and it's not like you're bursting with fresh ideas for handling the problem, either, come to think of it.

So, you agree to meet somewhere isolated, somewhere your face isn't known. You agree not to bring guards. You're lying. (That's alright, as it turns out, because the other two agreed to come alone and also lied about it. Typical. Exactly what you'd expect of these people.) Thus, you three desties bitterest of enemies meet under an uneasy truce to kill the Emperor so that you can resume your glorious holy war against these heathen infidels. And the other heathen infidels, of course. Mustn't show favouritism.

And then one of you - and which one will vary, as all three will take credit - has a moment of realization:

The best way to kill the Emperor is to do it legally.

Of course! It's so simple! The Emperor's absurdly effective guards, who now haunt your nightmares at this stage, can't intervene during a lawful duel! They won't like it, they'll try to stop it, but they can't! The rules are the rules, and nowhere in the Codex does it say that none can challenge the Emperor to combat by Ushaan. So, the three of you start sending duellists instead of assassins - champion duellists and Clanless brawlers and disgruntled soldiers, everyone and anyone at all. And there are so many to send.

Abessathaan was not a popular man at the best of times, and this was far from the best of times.

It takes time, as all good things inevitably must, but The Imperial Idiot begins to look haggard, jumpy - positively paranoid. His guards are increasingly irritable and all too quick to strike first and ask questions never. He's wearing down under the onslaught of challengers. He'll slip up any day now, you can feel it in your bones. The time is approaching at last! Your long awaited goal is finally within your grasp-!

-And then the son of a bitch adds the Right of Substitution to the Codices of the Ushaan.

This thoroughly foils your plans. Your desties fellow conspirators are given pause, now uncertain, and withdraw their support to fall back and consider their options. You alone try to stay true to the course, but it's all for naught. You're back to square one, without so much as a third of your starting funds and no working plans at all. Your fury is boundless; you show none of it.

The Imperial Idiot returns some of the lands and a handful of rights to the religious orders he previously offended, a transparent peace offering if ever there was - but not yours, no. Your order remains beggared and in disgrace. It would feel targeted, a pointed exclusion, but for the fact that several smaller orders are also left in the lurch. (It was absolutely targeted.)

The other religious leader and the other other religious leader start pretending they don't know you. One of them claims ill health and retreats to some Clan holding in the far south, after which she never emerges back onto the political scene again. The other stops going out in public entirely. So fixated on The Imperial Idiot as you are, it never occurs to you to question why. (Neither lived out the year. Knowing this would not have saved you.)

Clan Kavros has been bankrupted by your exhaustive efforts, just as your religious order is because they are one and the same. There is no further recourse - no resolution, no way out of the pit you've dug yourselves into. By some miracle, The Imperial Idiot hasn't connected that your Clan was responsible for many of the attempts on his life. (He definitely had.)

You may be safe for now, but if your numerous acts of treason ever come to light, your entire Clan will be purged. (Preparations were already being made at the time.)

So you head out into the Northern Wastes in an unprecedented move, and do not question your good fortune when no one stops you from leaving. (The 'officials' sent to 'handle' Clan Kavros were waylaid and failed to intercept their mass exodus in time.)

And hundreds of years later, some know-nothing historian from a Clan barely warranting the status will note down your sole contribution to that era was to turn your Clan into a bunch of scattered, nomadic families in some sort of ineffective political protest. Insult to injury will be the added note that The Imperial Idiot who ruined everything went on to live a relatively happy life while making everyone else around him quite miserable.

If you had a grave, you'd be rolling in it.

[cmchill]

Highly self-disparaging vent under the cut, regarding my productivity and effort and suitability for hiring.

[softgothbabe]

I think maybe being a person is just really fucking hard

[passthroughtime]

as an update about the ever-changing chapter 7, all i can say is that i'm at the start of the 5th "scene" out of 7 total planned, and

it's not looking good

[wereh0gz]

Is my discomfort with my boobs gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, or just a general discomfort with the sensations of having a human body that comes with possible neurodivergency

[tokyoteddywolf]

22 isn't very much at all, I think.

[toastingpencils37]

Bruh, the ninja's aim with the cannon is fucking ass.

Every damn time.

Lowkey also going to vent in the tags for a minute

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[litchi-tea]

ngl this outfit has gotta be one of my faves

[painsandconfusion]

Writers, here’s your reminder that you should be doing warm-ups!

Athletes need to warm up. Musicians need to warm up. Artists need to warm up. Heck, I even have to play a few matches in video games before I get into a groove every day.

Warm-ups help you get into the right headspace, give you more control of your actions and word choice, get you comfortable in your physical setting (eg: with your keyboard, notebook, tablet, or whatever you're writing with), and spark creativity.

Even if you don’t think you have spoons to write, sit down and do a couple warm-ups. If you still don’t want to, that’s alright. But. I think you’ll be surprised how often they help break that ice.

5-15 minutes is all you need. I personally set a timer for ten minutes each time and do not stop writing until the time is up. Your warm-up can be anything at all so long as it gets you writing and starts nudging those creative juices.

Here's some common warm-ups:

Journaling. Just jot down some notes about your day. Feel free to really lean into something that you noticed. We're going for description and details -- try to avoid settling into a spiral or focusing on something negative that will upset your creativity.

Short story prompts. Type that into Pinterest and pick the most ridiculous, cliche thing you can. Write a little scene, story summary, or even a rant about why you do or don't like the prompt. Just write.

Vocab challenge. If you like a bit more critical thinking to get you in the zone, have a random vocabulary word generator spit out five or so words. Check their meanings and jot down a little story or thought that includes all five. You get more familiar with beautiful and descriptive language, and it gives you a much narrowed prompt (which is lovely if you're like me and suffer each time there's an open-ended task assigned).

Character moments. Try putting your character into a generic setting and write down almost meticulously what their thought process would be. Follow them realizing they've just stepped in mud or dreading the start of the day. Pick a mundane thing and describe them working through it. This will not only get your writing going, but it will wake up the character's voice in your head.

Ongoing storytelling. Did you know that Whinnie the Poo was A.A. Milne's warm up story? He would jot down a quick little story with those very basic characters and did so every day. Whatever came to mind. He kept writing little tidbits on the same characters and eventually it turned into a series. Having that ongoing plot with isolated scenes and simple characters can help you feel more motivated to sit down and write.

Get-to-know-you-questions. Google a list of basic first-date questions (there are a million out there) and answer one yourself. Go into specifics. Where do you most want to travel and why? Let yourself ramble until the question is fully answered.

Writer's block blues. This is a favorite of mine. If you're truly stuck, write about being stuck. Eg: 'I'm supposed to write for ten minutse, but that feels so stupid and impossible. No one is goign to read this anyway. I have no ideas and the page is so overwhelming when its blank. I used to be able to write on and on and nothing could stop me. it was like breathing. but now I have nothign and do nothing and I can't even do a stupid prompt-' Even the rambling and ranting got me writing. It made things easier. It made writing this post easier. Also -- notice the typos? Yeah, don't fix those. You're in writing mode, not editing mode when you're doing this. If you edit while you write, you're forcing yourself to stay in your executive and calculating headspace rather than falling fully into creativity and dream. Ignore the mistakes. That's for future you to handle.

I've officially rambled far too much, but I hope that helps even a little bit. Live well and write often, my friends. Best of luck to you <3

[h1biscusgal]

I fucking entered the void.

Long post ahead!

@premiumbitch I owe u every shit wtf, your method was INSANE?

REMEMBER HOW I TOLD Y'ALL IMMA BE ENTERING THE VOID ON MY BIRTHDAY???? I did it, and guys it's literally the easiest shit idk why some people see it as smth big 💀

I didn't manifest anything, why? Because guess it or not I actually just wanted to be familiar with it, I love how I'm slowly knowing everything is mine, and yesterday I didn't want to manifest anything I just wanted to try the void out especially bc I have been studying sm these days, I wanted a break.

Now I've been eating up that mindset that I'm a master at the void, which let's be obvious, everyone is, they just need to get to the point and slowly realize it, it has to click.

Okay I'm going to stop yapping and fucking get into it 👍🏻, either way, yesterday night, at 1:32 AM or smth, after the day turned 6th April, I got in bed and made myself comfortable, and simply told myself I'll enter the void under 5 minutes, which actually and unsurprisingly, it was the case, I used a standard boring ass method too yk, the one where it's usually always what people do.

On my back, started slow breathing, and i set the intention of keeping myself awake when my body sleeps (best advice I got from idk who it helps sm) and then I let myself sink in the bed for some minutes, like I just laid there, and already I immediately was in the SATs.

So naturally I affirmed for the void, knowing I'm already in there, and mf I slipped in there after two or three minutes of affirming, just saying "I am the void." Or "I am in the void."

I think the reason I actually got out myself or sometimes used to slip in and back, is how I immediately focused on my body signs or anything connected me to myself, so I have a note to myself next time, to allow it naturally happen and focus just on the blackness behind my eyes.

ANYWAYS I STAYED THERE FOR LIKE I THOUGHT 2 OR 3 MINUTES BUT IT WAS A WHOLE WHOPPING 1 HOUR TF, and get that, how did I know it's the void? I just wanted to see stars there and I fucking did 🎀

IMMA GO CRY I FINALLY AM THE CREATER OF MY OWN REALITY.

anyone reading this, babes please don't give up, genuinely don't, I've been in this game for 6 years and I know a lot of people that'll leave for this long, saying they have no patience, girly you can do it if I did, I used to be in SUCH a bad place you can't even imagine, I pulled my shit and started living in the end for 2 months (and no it doesn't take two months, I just was stubborn af and kept slipping in and out my beliefs).

Special thanks to them for keeping my motivation up 💗

@joc3lynn @catherineaboutlife @salemlunaa @premiumbitch @prettygirl444sblog @mercifulstate @shimmershifts @littlemissprettyprincess @luckykiwiii101 @carlyshifts111 (I adore her oml her RAS thing? ATE the fuck up)

And of course can't forget @gorgeouslypink but idk if she's here anymore? And every old blog back in the 2022 and 2020, I adore y'all sm even though I don't have your blog's names 😔🎀.

[hedgehog-moss]

I need to confess something—my last post presented a deceptively idyllic vision of my hike in the snow. I only posted photos from the tranquil walk home at dusk and neglected to mention that I (once again) got lost in a featureless expanse of snow and briefly became convinced I would never find the road again and would have to dig a little den like an Arctic fox to spend the night.

You see, there's this place where Pandolf really loves to go for a walk on snowy days—it's on top of this plateau here:

^ see the fence in the middle, that curves to the left? Nothing bad can happen as long as you follow it. There are lots of landmarks in this direction, like trees, more fences, and a couple of houses.

In the other direction, however, lies The Nothing.

Here's a photo of Pandolf (eagerly) standing near the edge of The Nothing:

Characteristics of The Nothing: it is vast, and white, and becomes more and more featureless the farther you go into it—

—and Pandolf really, really loves it.

Even when he falls into a surprise hole where the snow is suddenly three times as deep (another characteristic of The Nothing), he'll just push himself out in one great powerful jump and keep frolicking.

Or he'll remain in the spot where the snow is deeper and try his best to bury his entire self into it.

He sometimes gets crazy eyes in The Nothing.

We always start this walk with such good resolutions.

We're definitely staying close to the fence this time! With all the lovely landmarks on the left!

And then, inevitably,

Further notes from my studies: • The Nothing has some small plants and rocks, but using them as landmarks is foolish, as they will eventually disappear. • No matter how many foot-, paw-, and dog-headprints you leave and how deep they are, they will disappear before you are able to retrace your steps, probably because The Nothing is always so windy.

Pandolf thinks this is a great characteristic of The Nothing, as it means he never runs out of immaculate snow to dive into.

The wind and the resulting snow mist are the really treacherous things about this place. These photos were taken in roughly the same spot, a couple of hours apart. In the first one, the fence on the left is clearly visible; in the second one, it has started to melt into The Nothing.

There's always a moment when I end up standing in the middle of, well, nothing, with indistinguishable whiteness in every direction, under my feet, above my head, left, right, and I start thinking about writing poignant farewell messages in my Notes app for my family to find at some point in the future.

One last interesting thing about The Nothing is the way Pandolf reacts when I finally find my bearings again and start walking faster, determined to get back to the safety of the road before it gets dark.

Pandolf then just

It's very different than the playful, energetic way in which he normally buries his head in the snow. This second type of burying is clearly a form of protest—if I continue walking away Pan will reluctantly follow me for 20 or so metres, then flatten himself to the ground again, in the same despondent way.

Hypothesis #1: He is trying to play dead like a possum, hoping I will go "well, I can't lug a dead dog all the way home, I'd better leave him here." And then he'll stay with The Nothing forever.

Hypothesis #2: He is trying to lay as flat as possible so as to become all but invisible against the snow. It's unclear if he knows he is the wrong colour for this.

Hypothesis #3: He is trying to commune with The Nothing, burying words of devotion and friendship deep into the snow and promising to return soon.

Conclusion: I'm sorry, I know that's a very long post, but seeing as each of these photos depicts perfect felicity on Earth, I find it hard to delete any. I also like how I intended this post to be about my long disoriented trek through the snow, wondering if I was going to find the fence or the road again before dark—and then I got distracted by how happy Pandolf was. Which is exactly how I end up getting lost in The Nothing every single time!!

[yandere-romanticaa]

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.