#i'm only posting this here for convenience lmao

[boyapologist]

I should've anticipated I'd get some rancid ass takes on the notes of my poll lol

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Prima Nocta

Marcus Acacius x Virgin!F!Reader oneshot

{ Main Masterlist }

Rating: E (18+ only)

Summary: Tomorrow, you will marry your husband-to-be. But tonight - it belongs to his father.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: DUB CON only due to nature of prima nocta, both parties enthusiastically consent, twist on prima nocta, unspecified age gap, loss of virginity, dirty talk, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex, unrealistic descriptions of first sexual experience, all manners of historical inaccuracies and linguistic anachronisms sorry not sorry, ignores the events of the movie so you can consider this an AU, Marcus is widowed and has a son, shall we call this bfd: Ancient Rome version lmao

Notes: I'm a bit rusty for sure, but I had the absolute best time writing this oneshot. It's a departure from my usual themes to say the least, but once this idea took hold of me it never let go. I know prima nocta is meant to be invoked on the wedding night, but I like the idea of it being the night before so I made it so ����🏻‍♀️ Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics as always.

He thought he had gotten away with it. Having lived more than fifty winters in the capital and outlasting eight emperors, he regrets to confess that he is still none the wiser. 

It would have been such a clever manoeuvre. Palming off a generous but very much unwanted gift from the emperors, and marrying off his son in one fell swoop. 

He should have been suspicious of their swift assent to his proposal. In his eagerness to bow out of their audience, it had been convenient to dismiss the flash of malice in their eyes.

And in the snake pits of Roman court, no misstep goes unexploited.

He is not proud that he is caught off guard by the emperor’s closest advisor who intercepts his walk home from the armoury, even less so of his ineloquent response to the missive handed to him.

‘What is this?’

‘Urgent word from the emperors, sir.’

Cold sweat prickles the back of his neck as he stares unseeingly at what is scrawled on the parchment.

‘I cannot,’ he blurts out, indignance rising fast and hot in his chest. ‘I will not.’

‘You think it wise to twice refuse the emperors’ generosity, general?’

General. To him, the culmination of a lifetime of service and sacrifice. To them, an instrument of bloodshed in war, a plaything in peacetime.

Desperate, he tries a different tact. ‘The right of the first night belongs to the emperors. I dare not commit sacrilege.’

‘It is not sacrilege if it is freely bequeathed upon you, general.’

There is no mistaking the warning lilt in the last word, and he has no answer.

‘The hour grows late. You had better not keep the bride waiting,’ says the advisor with an air of finality before retreating into the shadows.

Marcus shudders at the cold that settles into the empty space, fingers stained with ink from the now crumpled dispatch. 

He remembers nothing of the remainder of his short journey to his quarters. As the front door swings open, he realises there is something in the night air that is out of place.

Sea salt.

You are here. 

Would you be demure? Frightened? You are of royal lineage, a lady of the small but proud coastal kingdom strong-armed by Rome into an unequal treaty for its profitable trading posts, in return for the mercy of not being razed to its fertile grounds.

And now, you are lowered to marry a general’s son. 

Worse, lowered to have your virginity taken by his father.

Candlelight spills from the crack underneath the door to his bedchamber. Marcus takes a deep breath, and pushes it open.

You hear him. The swish of fabric, the slide of leather soles on marble.

The general is here.

Your hand in marriage is part of the terms of the treaty, and the missive that sent for you announced your match as the widowed hero general. You had him cast on the wretched journey from your home as one of the domineering, brutish soldiers now garrisoned at your family’s kingdom - only to be told on your arrival that you will be marrying his son instead.

Relief at the news that your future husband would not be decades older than you is instantly snatched away by furtive whispers of prima nocta.

Your future father-in-law will take you first.

The humiliation is bitter on your tongue. You are Rome’s to marry off, hers to give to whomever she pleases -

But she won’t break you.

The door creaks. You stand tall and hold your ground.

He sweeps into the room with an air of well-worn authority, the cloak on his back dark as the shadows that nip at his heels.

The candles flicker when he sheds the heavy robes with a smooth sweep of his arm.

You stare, in a manner that would have had your lady-in-waiting tutting. But you are alone, very much so, with this man not ten paces from you.

General Marcus Acacius. 

He is older, certainly old enough to have a son your age. But you had not imagined him so - strong, for the lack of a more imaginative word. His shoulders are broad under his wine red tunic, and you can see the muscles in his arms flex as he clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides. From where you stand, you can hardly see any silver in his dark curls.

Marcus unflinchingly assesses you right back. 

No, you are decidedly not demure. Or frightened. Far from it. 

You are defiant, even as you observe him with evident curiosity. Your head held high, a telltale sign of your noble breeding, mouth set in a stern line while your eyes burn bright with a proud fire. 

Judging the silence has gone on long enough, he breaks it with a formal, ‘My lady.’

‘General,’ you answer steadily.

The door slams shut belatedly behind him, and you flinch - the first glimpse of weakness you concede. 

Marcus breathes in, delivering his next sentence with as much composure as he can muster. ‘I expect you have been informed of the - formalities that we are to perform tonight.’

You grind your teeth so hard you are astonished that your jaw doesn’t crack.

Your virtue is just a formality.

Refusing to dignify his question with an answer, you nod once. 

He watches you wordlessly, and you meet his gaze. You thought you would find something else there, not the regret that you see.

Turning away from you, he reaches for the amphora on the table. 

‘Wine?’

‘Yes, please.’

The wine is drunk in silence and moderation. Him at his desk, you perched on the end of the bed.

As you sip, pacing yourself, you observe the general discreetly from across the small distance between you. 

To say that you are disconcerted by his behaviour would be an understatement.

You assumed that he asked for this - for the perverse pursuit of deflowering his son’s bride-to-be while eschewing the unwanted responsibility of a wife. 

Yet, watching him stare pensively into his goblet, lips pursed in a pout that is almost sullen, you are not so certain anymore. 

When you bring your drink to your mouth to find it empty, you clear your throat. ‘I have to wake up early tomorrow morning - for the wedding.’

The general starts before collecting himself, drawing himself up to his full height as he sets down his cup with a heavy clunk. ‘Understandably, my lady.’

Then he moves, charting a course across the room, licking his thumb and index finger to douse the candles dotted around the space.

The thought comes to you unbidden - he has thick fingers. And big hands. 

Your cheeks tingle with heat.

Soon the chamber is cloaked in darkness, save for the candles next to the bed, the warm light pooling in the most inviting manner on the soft surface despite your trepidation. You long to rest your aching feet. 

He comes to a standstill on the other side of the bed, as if waiting for you to take the lead. You cannot decide whether you are thankful for him not imposing on you, or frustrated at him for not taking the lead in what is very much unfamiliar territory.

In the end, the desire to get off your feet wins out, and you gesture at the bed. ‘Shall we…?’

‘Certainly.’ He bends down, you assume to take off his sandals. You do the same, toeing off the soft leather slides the maids had you change into when they dressed you.

Once barefoot, you climb in with as much grace as you can summon, acutely aware that you have an audience. Your knees sink into the mattress, and you’re relieved that it is stuffed with feathers, luxuriously giving under your weight. Shifting primly, you find your back against the headboard, cushioned by equally soft pillows.

The general follows suit, the frame creaking as he eases onto the suddenly too small bed, strong shoulders brushing yours as he settles next to you.

You stare hard at the back of your hands, the only way to stop your gaze from wandering to the span of his fingers splayed wide on sturdy thighs, or lower to the bony ridge of his knees - gods, you must be unwell, since when have you been drawn to knees?

You are still questioning the state of your sanity when the general, who has been nothing but unperturbed and composed since he stepped into the room, stumbles over his words in a manner that is neither, as if he had held the question behind his teeth for too long.

‘Are you - are you absolutely certain - in no doubt - that you are… untouched?’

His question stings like salt in a festering wound. Indignant doesn’t even begin to describe the retort you spit at him. ‘Yes, I am. Are you?’

Peering at you sideways, his eyes widen at your outburst, and fear briefly flits across your heart that you have overstepped.

 But then, he surprises you with a smile. ‘You bite, don’t you?’ 

You let your shoulders sag, too far gone to hold onto your facade. 

‘It’s been a long day, sir,’ you admit. ‘To be frank, I just want to get this over with and forget it ever happened.’

He pauses at your confession, as if weighing his options. Then he shifts, and says, ‘The reason I ask if you were untouched is because, if you were not - we could have just pretended we did this.’

You frown. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I did not invoke prima nocta, it was imposed upon me. The emperors are displeased that I turned down the betrothal, this is their way of punishing me for my ungratefulness.’ 

Oh.

As much as you didn’t want this either, your pride suffers to hear him describe it as a punishment.

‘I know…’ you stumble, halting to steel yourself. ‘I know I am nothing like the women here in Rome. I spend too much time in the sun, and my hands are rough from working with horses -’

‘Why do you say that?’ he interrupts you.

You look away. ‘That is why you do not wish to marry me, is it not? And why you do not want this - why you do not want me.’

The general sits up, palms on the mattress to support his weight, the lines on his forehead deepening with a frown. ‘No, that is not the reason. You are young, you deserve a husband who can build a life with you in the years to come. Not a washed-up widower.’

The bitterness in his voice turns your head. 

‘You’re not washed up, from what I hear.’ Somehow, you find the courage to add boldly, ‘Or from what I see.’

Letting your eyes trail unabashedly over his broad frame, a thrill chases through your blood when you notice his Adam’s apple bob with a tight swallow. He’s so close that you know you’re not imagining the heat seeping into your bones.

Silence stretches between you, charged with a consciousness that creeps in and spreads. Two souls from different worlds and stations put in a situation in which neither of you had a hand. This may not be how you imagined giving away your virtue - far from it - yet your stomach twists in anticipation.

You glance upwards, only to find him already watching you.

Something has shifted when you so bravely reached out and tipped the balance with your words. He can tell that you are not one for flippant flattery, and it takes him a moment to collect himself, harder said than done with the blood roaring in his ears.

When he speaks, it comes out in a much lower register than he intends, so much so it sounds like a secret. 

‘You say you just want to get this over with. But I can - I can make it good for you. It doesn’t have to be something you want to forget.’

Your eyes widen and your lips part, and heat blooms almost uncomfortably in his chest. ‘You would do that for me?’

‘I will serve you in whatever way you ask of me tonight, my lady.’

Never have mere words, albeit delivered in such a delicious baritone, moved you so. You came in expecting to have your virtue stripped from you, the same way Rome callously stole you away. Where you thought humiliation and dishonour awaited, this man is offering deliverance and devotion - if only for one night.

Your throat tight with emotion, you nod in lieu of a spoken answer.

Marcus is deliberately slow in his movements, wanting you to feel safe in his presence. ‘How much do you know? So I know what I need to teach you.’

Despite yourself, shyness rears its head and you mumble, ‘I’ve - I’ve heard stories. I know what… happens… between a man and a woman in the bed chamber.’

He nods reassuringly, making you feel less of a fool for the juvenile answer you gave. ‘And has anyone touched you before?’

There’s no mistaking the lurch in your stomach as your heart hammers violently. ‘No. No one. Never.’

The protector in him stirs, summoned to duty, warring with the desire that seethes under his skin like the unholy flames of Vesuvius. He fears it is a quickly losing battle. 

Reading the desire in your endearingly open face, Marcus reaches over you to settle one hand on your hip as he leans close, his breath warm on your cheek.

‘Have you ever kissed a man?’ he rasps. 

You shake your head, eyes fixated on his mouth, framed by a tidy moustache. He is so close that you can see his beard is flecked with silver.

You swear the general is leaning into you, and every inch of you is on tenterhooks, enraptured by his proximity -

‘You should save it for your husband.’

You barely forestall the whine of protest that teeters on the tip of your tongue, pinching your lips together, but his lopsided smile tells you that he knows. 

‘I can kiss you elsewhere though.’

‘Oh,’ you inhale shakily when he dips to mouth at the side of your neck, landing on your pulse point in a suckle. Your whole body arches off the bed, hands gripping the sheets, head spinning at all the sensations that are new to you - the burn of his stubble, the cool trail his lips leave behind -

Then the palm on your hip pulls you into him, sprawling you against the wide cage of his body, your breasts pressed against his broad chest. The dress they put you in is thin, and the fabric rubs against your pebbling nipples as his kisses travel daringly low.

‘Am I going too fast?’ he pauses, voice strained.

Breathlessly, you shake your head.

‘If you want me to stop, or wait, you say the word. Understood?’

‘Yes, general.’

Two words he hears daily from his men, and yet from your lips, they unleash a dangerously feral side of him.

More. Is the only coherent thought that remains. 

Impatient hands reposition you so that you are astride him, and he groans when you slot flush in his lap. He watches your eyes widen at what you feel between your legs. Your dress rides up, and his blood rushes south at the bare expanse of your inner thighs on his skin. 

‘I want to see you,’ he speaks plainly, palms squeezing the dip of your waist. ‘May I undress you? Please?’

All decorum flees you, and you might have chanted yes, yes, yes to his question.

Dropping your chin, you watch his thick fingers nimbly undo the knot holding the front of your dress together. The silk capitulates like water, tumbling down in delicate drapes around your waist, baring you to his heated gaze.

‘You are beautiful,’ he declares with a solemnity that steals your breath.

And it is easy to believe him, the way his dazed eyes trail over your breasts, before his hands follow. Calloused palms, which you are sure have held many a sword in triumph, now cup your tender flesh in reverence. 

Your head lolls to the side as he teases you, but when he rolls his hips upwards, your eyes snap to the pained expression on his face. You’ve heard ladies in court whispering over wine about length and girth, but nothing could prepare you for the thrill of feeling a man’s undeniable desire for you.

Instinct guides you, moving your hips so that you are grinding against his length, seeking relief from what is building deep within you.

‘Do what feels good,’ the general murmurs encouragingly, palms on the small of your back to let you take control.

And just like that, you are thrown back to one summer’s day in your youth. You were bathing in a rock pool, under the spray of a waterfall in perfect solitude when you accidentally slipped forwards on the smooth stone surface. The unexpected sensation between your legs ripped through you like lightning on a clear day. And you chased that feeling, hips undulating until you shuddered and cried out. Knees trembling in the aftermath, you never dared to seek it out again, but neither did you forget.

And now, years later, you finally know what had transpired. Pleasure. And this time, under the general’s hooded gaze, you pursue it with single-minded determination.

Marcus wishes you knew how beautiful you are in this very moment. Breasts swaying in tandem while you rock back and forth on his clothed length, eyes glazed, every whimper from your swollen lips making him throb harder for you.

‘Good girl,’ he rasps, throat tight. ‘Take your pleasure. Take what you need.’

And when he sucks your nipple into his mouth, you wail, tipping forward at an angle that unexpectedly takes you apart.

The waves that wash over you are more intense than you remember, and you are sure that has to do with the man holding your hips to his as you buck, and the warm swirl of his tongue against your breasts, sucking and nipping as you come down from your high.

‘That was not your first time,’ he states as a matter of fact when the white noise in your ears finally fades.

‘It happened once, a long time ago, and I didn’t understand then -’

‘And now you do.’

‘Yes, general.’

This time, he lets loose a moan at your words. ‘I can feel your wetness through your dress.’

Confused, you look down, and your cheeks burn when you spot the dark patch on the delicate fabric. ‘Oh, I -’

‘It’s natural,’ he assures you. ‘The wetness makes it easier for -’

It dawns on you when you feel his hardness twitch under you. Oh. 

‘It - you feel -’ you stutter, struggling to comprehend how the girth of what you are sitting on could possibly fit inside you.

Taking your hand, Marcus presses a chaste kiss to your palm, eyes warm and open. 

‘We will take it slow. I will use my fingers first, to prepare you for me,’ he explains patiently. ‘I promised I would make it good for you, did I not?’

‘You did.’ 

And you have complete faith in him.

Your knees knock into each other hopelessly when he slides you off his lap, and he has to bodily prop you up against the pillows. Sinking into the soft feathers, you watch him kneel between your parted legs, and you feel so safe even as he towers over you. 

‘May I disrobe you?’

You bite your bottom lip, and nod. 

Except it’s not a disrobing, it’s nothing near as civil as that. The general rips the rest of your dress clean down the middle, rendering you completely bare beneath him.

Marcus knows should be ashamed of his brash behaviour. But how could he when you react so viscerally, jaw slack as your chest heaves in unmitigated desire? 

His gaze shamelessly trail over every curve and dimple, from the breasts he has tasted to where your knees are demurely closed, and knowing that he is the first - the only - to have laid eyes on you makes him impossibly hard. 

It matters not that you are not his to keep. This will always be his. 

‘You are exquisite,’ he professes, voice tight. 

You duck your head, more shy of his compliments than being nude before him. ‘You don’t have to.’

Sliding a finger under your chin and tilting your head until you meet his gaze, he assures you, ‘I mean every word.’

Then he moves down the bed until he can rest his weight on his elbows, and you startle when rough palms glide over the outside of your thighs, stopping at your knees. 

He pauses to give you time. ��Are you certain you wish to continue?’

Your answer is a confident yes.

Then, as if opening the shell of Venus, he delicately pries your knees apart, and his breath hitches as you are revealed to him.

He is aware that he’s staring like an imbecile, words failing him. As the silence stretches on, you become self-conscious.

‘General,’ you demur, moving to cover yourself.

Shaking his head, he finally says, ‘Forgive me, but you are perfect.’

Then he looks up at you with such intensity that has you struggling to catch your breath, and without breaking eye contact, he bows his head - 

And closes his lips over you there. 

You are wholly unprepared - no one has ever gossiped about this in court. Your hips buck violently off the bed, but Marcus holds you down with reassuring hands, suckling on the pearl between your thighs with gentle laps of his tongue.

‘Oh, oh, oh,’ you stuttter, torn between watching the man wreak the most devastating pleasure on you and averting your gaze.

You’ve only ever known worship to be pious, and yet, this most vulgar adulation is the closest you’ve been to the gods.

His beautiful curls brush the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, catching the candle light as he moves, and the crook of his nose - so proud even with the scar on its bridge - draws patterns on your skin as he stakes his claim where no one has ever touched you. 

You quickly realise that what you felt just now in the general’s lap was insignificant and thin in comparison. This pleasure is all-consuming, something divine that has you weak and trembling all over. All you hear are slick, wet sounds of tongues and lips, and your own whimpers between garbled groans.

Marcus feasts on you, unapologetically. Flattening his tongue, he tastes you in broad sweeps, moaning into your sweet cunt as you writhe above him, your needy mewls driving him to the edge of madness. You taste like fig - the earthiness of the purple peel, ripe sweetness of the pink flesh.

Then your hands wind into his hair, pulling him closer, ankles hooking over his shoulders. He groans harder, the sound rattling in his ribs as you soak his beard. Surrendering any last vestiges of shyness, you rock against his tongue, nails scratching his scalp as you whine louder into the night air. 

Moans that will echo long after you’re gone.

The thought alone hardens his resolve to mark you unequivocally. You’re close, your pliant body quivering and breaths coming in shallow gasps now. He peers up at you, but your eyes are sealed shut and upturned at the gods, your breasts heaving.

Gently, he eases one finger inside you, and he grunts at how easily he slides in. You barely react, and so he pushes back in with two, coaxing a cry from you. Your cunt clenches as he gently thrusts his digits in and out, stretching your tight walls. 

‘Oh gods. Oh gods,’ you pant violently.

You’re close, so close. He wants to warn you of what is to come, but it feels like sacrilege to tarnish the moment with words. When he feels you begin to quiver, he laves at your clit harder, burying his fingers inside you to the knuckle, until he feels you crest and break. 

‘Gods, oh gods - Marcus!’

The cry of his name catches him off guard. He nearly loses control right there and then, as you ride out your high on his fingers, but by some miracle he holds out through gritted teeth. He devotes his attention to kissing his way up your body, from the slick inside of your thighs, to the side of your hip, making you jump when he sucks on your sensitive breasts.

You stare at his mouth with wild, dark eyes, and him at yours, but he vowed to leave your first kiss to your husband. Girding his self-restraint, he asks, ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes, Marcus.’

His cock twitches at the sound of his name on your lips. He wants to hear you say it in all manners of ways - whisper it, gasp it, scream it. And by the cheekiness in your smile, it’s clear that you know what he’s thinking.

Your eyes drop to where his hardness is pressed against you. ‘Will you teach me how to please you, general?’

He swallows a groan, the animal in him rattling the bars of its cage. He replies diplomatically, ‘I will teach you how to teach your husband.’

In one smooth tug, he shucks off his tunic, then his loincloth, and he tries not to be self-conscious under your watchful gaze. Pulling you against him, skin on naked skin, he smears kisses along the side of your neck, smiling at your answering shudder. In return, you run your lips and scrape your teeth over his collarbone. 

Taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm, he slides it all the way down his chest and wraps your fingers firmly around his throbbing cock, his pained moan in your ear.

Eyes wide, you marvel at the size of him in your grip. ‘You are so big.’

Marcus curses through clenched teeth. ‘You are an insolent girl.’

With a wicked glint in your eyes, you correct yourself, ‘You are so big, general.’

If he wasn’t so aroused, he would have chuckled at your cheek. Instead, he growls, ‘Such insubordination.’

Tilting your head to one side, you grin. ‘And how would you discipline me, sir?’

He lets the silence linger for a beat, allowing anticipation to build as one big hand splays over your ass, hot lips brushing the shell of your ear. ‘I would deny you my cock, my lady. Let your sweet cunt weep for me, empty, not knowing how good it would feel to have me deep inside you.’

You are unsure if you are more shocked at the explicitness of his words, or at the gush of wetness that has you pressing your thighs together. If you had to wager a guess, he is just as affected as you by the way his length pulses in your grasp.

Marcus smiles as he takes in the way your body reacts to him. ‘But how can I deny such a lovely, desperate creature such as yourself?’

A sob escapes you. ‘Please, Marcus - I’m yours to take.’

With that, all self-restraint abandons him, and his lips crash into yours. At the back of his mind, he knows you deserve a better first kiss, something gentle and sweet. But to your credit, you seem to take it in stride, winding your arms around his neck with a deep groan as he deepens the kiss. Opening up your mouth, he sweeps his tongue against yours, making sure you taste yourself and the pleasure that he had wrung from you.

When he reluctantly pulls back for air, you hum, ‘I thought you said I should save that for my husband.’

He all but snarls, ‘Damn your husband.’

The possessiveness in his tone sends you reeling, and his resolve wears even thinner when your cunt brushes against him, so wet and soft, begging for him. 

‘I cannot wait any longer,’ he declares.

You bite your lip beseechingly. ‘Please, Marcus, I cannot either.’

He braces himself above you on strong arms, until all you can see is him, backlit by the soft candlelight. Beholding his beauty - the wisps of gray at his temples, the scar lining his cheekbone - your breath catches at the tenderness in his eyes as he stares down at you.

Holding the base of his cock, Marcus notches himself at the entrance of your cunt, trembling as he holds himself back. 

‘I will go slow,’ he assures you. ‘If it hurts, you tell me to stop. Understood?’

Your mouth dry, you can only nod. 

Holding your gaze, Marcus rolls his hips ever so slowly, jaw slack when he breaches you, inch by tortuous inch.

He is barely inside you and you already feel so unfathomably full.

‘Marcus,’ you gasp when it gets impossibly tight, nails digging into his broad shoulders.

He stops, and whispers encouragingly, ‘You are doing so well for me, taking me so beautifully. Just breathe.’

In between his patient, languid kisses, you unfurl, and Marcus gently pulls back, before pushing into you, deeper this time.

When you cry out, he shushes you, brushing the wet corners of your eyes with his lips. ‘Does it hurt?’

You shake your head. ‘No, it’s just - so much.’ 

‘I know, I can feel how tight you are gripping me,’ he mumbles into your neck, throbbing inside you while he holds himself still as you adjust. ‘Brave, sweet girl.’

When you find your voice again, you give him cheek. ‘I am a woman now, general.’

He smiles at you - a warm curl that crinkles the corners of his eyes endearingly - and claims your lips again. Feeling the tension seep out of your body, he thrusts shallowly so you can learn the movement of his hips. When he hits a spot that makes your jaw drop and your hips buck, he pulls all the way back, and drives himself to the hilt in one smooth motion.

And with that, you become a part of his soul, and his yours. His chest swells with the fiercest possessiveness and the greatest honour all at once, despite knowing that the circumstances that brought you together will inevitably tear you asunder at the break of dawn.

‘Marcus!’ you choke on a sob, throwing your head back, your walls clutching his cock in a merciless grip.

‘There she is,’ he grunts, mouth scraping the shell of your ear. ‘Say my name like that.’

And you do, over and over again, as he fucks into you. His pants land harshly in the crook of your neck with every thrust, hands greedily squeezing all the skin he can find - the curve of your ass, the dimple in your waist, your thigh to hitch it over his hip.

Looking down at you, eyes drunk and unfocused as you stare back at him, each squeeze of your wet cunt around him, every breath from your lips feels sacred.

He is seized by a sudden need to know. ‘How does it feel?’

Your eyes soften, and he shudders when you cup the side of his face to bring his nose to yours. ‘Divine.’

Marcus loses himself in you, in the wet squelch of your cunt around his length, the way your tightness takes every thrust. Words of praise that he doesn’t even hear tumble from his lips and onto every inch of skin he can reach as you cling to him, scraping your nails down his back and digging into the meat of his ass.

Pitching forward to press a hard kiss to you, he says, ‘I want you to fall apart for me again.’

‘Please, Marcus, please.’

Pushing himself up to his knees, still buried deep inside you, he spreads your thighs obscenely wide over his hips, and he moans at the sight of your cunt so full of him. With hooded eyes, he sucks on two of his thick fingers and brings them between your legs, carefully drawing circles on your clit, knowing that you are already sensitive from cumming twice for him before.

Your face twists in agony as he builds you towards another climax, patiently weaving the web of pleasure that wounds you tighter and tighter until your spine feels like it will snap in two. ‘Marcus, oh - don’t stop, don’t stop, oh gods -’

He bares his teeth as he feels you start to clench around him. ‘That’s it, that’s it. Cum on my cock, let me feel you, give it to me.’ 

Your peak crashes into you relentlessly, and as you are swept away, you can only wail and thrash, while Marcus curses and stutters unintelligibly above you as he spins out of control.

He had every intention to pull out, but it is as if some higher power is determined to foil his plans. With a guttural roar, his hips snap flush against yours, big palms grasp you so hard by the waist that you squeal, and he spills into you in hot gushes, once - twice - and again until he is spent.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

He doesn’t know if he said that aloud or if it was a trick of the mind. All he knows is that he eventually collapses bonelessly onto you, skin fused together with sweat and cum as your breaths become one in the crisp night air.

It is him who breaks the stillness, his old bones creaking when he stirs to relieve an ache in his back. His softened cock slides out of you, prompting you to whine in protest. He grunts when he looks down to see his cum dribble out of your cunt, leaving a pearly trail on the inside of your thighs.

When he meets your eyes, there is no awkwardness in the silence. ‘Forgive me, I didn’t mean to spill my seed inside you. That was reckless.’

Your heart skips a beat at his admission, and you can’t hide the pride in your voice. ‘Do I make you reckless, general?’

He tries and fails to be stern in his answer, the tenderness with which he brushes his nose on your cheek giving him away. ‘I know better than to encourage your insolence with an answer.’

You are far from discouraged though, quite the opposite. Knowing you have this man - who commands armies of thousands - at your mercy is a siren’s call.

Peering at him from under your eyelashes, you curl one leg around his waist. ‘Do you want to be reckless again?’

He huffs, but a smile breaks through. ‘Have you ever been told that you are a cocktease?’

You hum teasingly. ‘I have never heard that word before, but I like it.’

‘You do?’ he breathes against your lips. ‘You like being my cocktease?’

‘Yours, general.’

Marcus is astounded when he feels himself harden again, and he moans as you press open-mouthed kisses down his neck. ‘What spell have you cast on this old man, my little cocktease?’

You grin, letting him ease you onto your back so he can settle between your thighs again. ‘The kind that lasts until dawn.’

Eventually, morning must break, sure as the moon turns and the sun rises. In the golden rays of day, you will wed his son in ironic, virginal white, showered in rose petals. He will look on from the side in his finest ceremonial robes of red, as you walk away from him and into your new life as someone else’s wife.

But in the velvety folds of this night and many more to come, safely ensconced in the deepest corners of his memories, in lands far away, in war and in peace, there he keeps you - where you are not.

More notes: Thank you for reading! As usual, comments/reblogs/asks would be very much appreciated 🥰 I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I loved writing it!

[authormars]

Sticky notes

This is probably gonna be formatted badly but oh well this is what I get for being on Tumblr for barely a week

So, Lucifer constantly leaves sticky notes around the house for himself to remember things. Some are "Meeting on Tuesday @ Castle for new event" and others are "Eat so you don't die"

But Satan and Belphie began discovering said sticky notes and if they deemed them unimportant, would remove the sticky note and put a new sticky note in its place that says "A Lucifer note used to be here. For your convenience, we at the Anti-Lucifer League have removed it. We thank you for your continued support in our mission to annoy Lucifer. Thank you! - Anti-Lucifer League"

After a little while, yellow sticky notes began showing up, scribbled in all caps, that normally said something along the lines of "Lucifer if you pay me ten grimm I'll stop them next time from doing this"

Then a red sticky note beneath it reading "You should always be stopping them. You're the second eldest. Act like it." And then another yellow beneath it "Jokes on you, I can't read cursive. I'm assuming that was insulting though"

And eventually, orange began showing up normally with messages such as "Hey can someone come to the grocery store with me tomorrow."

And eventually the kitchen devolved into messages such as:

Shut up Satan

Wasted a whole sticky note to tell me to shut up. Very efficient

At least I can pull

Can y'all stop writing in cursive I can't read it

All of you. Please stop leaving notes. These are for me and me only. I'm glad you colorcode them though

Die old man

OI DONT USE MY COLOR

Satan go back to green

No. Die

MY COLOR

When did we start communicating on sticky notes

Hey Levi idk but Satan ruined it

I'm back to green bc it's a better color

All of you please stop putting up sticky notes. This is messing with the way I do things

Oh no. Mr. Perfect can't deal with something. Everybody stop and help him

I hope you trip down the stairs and crack your head open

WOAH

You want that to happen to get rid of me don't you

If we must discuss the way I prefer your death, let's do it in person. This is much too inconvenient

Choke on Diavolo's [crossed out heavily in red pen]

(written underneath) You are a nuisance. I'm confiscating your sticky notes

---

Sorry if this was hard to follow lmao this is my first post

[somerandomdudelmao]

uh, hi, cass. time sensitive ask this is what was posted on the og cartoon base account

uhh, simultaneously i think you might have a hand in this. generally. you know. making rottmnt trend here and on other platforms. every week i dont think we should take that super seriously but a q&a is defenitely in order and i didnt see anyone talk about it so heads up! maybe we'll get to find out if that ask you got about your work is actually true. or something like that have a fulfilling one.

Hmm. I don't know how much importance my comic has outside of tumblr. But I also won't deny that Rise is like...suspiciously...conveniently trending(I mean. Not only on tumblr) every time something really dramatic happens in the Apocalyptic series haha

Like the time Donnie died and Netflix had a sudden increase in views on Rise movie lmao

Personally I'm quite happy with the two seasons and the movie we already have, but I definitely wouldn't turn down the opportunity to get more.

So if this fandom gets even a fraction of Nickelodeon's attention because of my comic, I'm happy to provide👍

[cartierre]

COMO TE QUIERO YO | ln4

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lando norrix x latina!reader

♡ liked by carlossainz55, felipedrugovich and 264,394 others

lando.jpg cabo san lucas, mexico. summer break 2022

view all 1,380 comments

daniel3.jpg oh la la! ⤷ user1 DANNY HAHAHAHA

user2 does lando have a new girlfriend or am i tripping rn cuz i know this isn't luisa ⤷ user3 how can you tell ⤷ user2 cuz she posted a story where she was in paris with friends ⤷ user4 they broke up like two months ago or so ⤷ user5 i feel sorry for whoever this girl is because she probably is just a rebound ⤷ user6 not y'all assuming about their relationship lmao

♡ liked by daniel3.jpg and 298,420 others

lando.jpg late night shenanigans

view all 1,038 comments

user7 what kind of summer is lando having this boy is out here wilding around

user8 L-LANDO IS THIS ALLOWED ⤷ user9 did he just post some girl's tramp stamp??

daniel3.jpg "summer's" been treating you good mate ⤷ user10 daniel teasing lando through the comments takes the cake ⤷ user11 i just know the drivers' gc is going bonkers rn

♡ liked by 29,310 people

tagged: landonorris

f1wagupdates New girlfriend alarm? Lando Norris was spotted picking up a girl in his McLaren from the airport. Is this the girl he posted multiple pictures of during his trip through Mexico? Many say he was looking for a rebound after his break-up with long term girlfriend Luisinha Oliveira, but does someone fly their rebound out to their hometown? Guess we'll have to stay tuned for more!

view all 763 comments

user12 lando is so whipped ⤷ user13 the power of latinas ⤷ user14 amen

user15 he flew her out to monaco after his trip? bro must be in love love ⤷ user16 guess we'll see if he also brings her to bahrain after the summer break is over

user17 i think i found her insta, i'm not sure because lando doesn't follow but her posts align with his' ⤷ user18 okay stalker... what's her @? ⤷ user17 yourusername

♡ liked by 9,293 others

yourusername guess i could get used to frequent trips to monaco

view all 89 comments

user18 and we're sure she's not just some girl? ⤷ user19 yeah i mean just because she's mexican and now conveniently is in monaco doesn't mean she's the girl lando's been messing around with

user20 if this is the girl lando's with, geez my boy has some good karma ⤷ user21 yeah like why yould someone as pretty as her sleep with someone as crusty as lando ⤷ user22 wdym 'crusty' lando's actually really pretty ⤷ user23 he behaves like a child

♡ liked by 13,293 others

yourusername tiro caliente (hot shot)

view all 99 comments

user24 omg she's dropping some serious hints guys ⤷ user25 the breadcrumps we needed

user26 the orange car? lando? i mean... ⤷ user27 how many people own an orange mclaren. it's obvious at this point it's lando

♡ liked by yourusername, daniel3.jpg and 321,987 others

tagged: danielricciardo

lando.jpg princess treatment after a tough weekend

view all 2,391 comments

daniel3.jpg are you getting the princess treatment? ⤷ user28 i hope lando does lmao

user29 omg yourusername actually liked this post??? ⤷ user30 this is a sign, the sign we've been waiting for. it's her

yourusername the only treatment one deserves ⤷ user31 it'S YOU

♡ liked by landonorris and 21,292 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername 4 lifers

view all 293 comments

user32 i- what ⤷ user33 this was so unexpected ⤷ user34 was it?

landonorris did my pr team give you the go? ⤷ yourusername they love me ⤷ user35 someone tell me if this is sarcasm or not

♡ liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 349,394 others

tagged: yourusername

lando.jpg como te quiero yo (how i love you)

view all 3,293 comments

yourusername lando we need to go back to mexico i'm loosing my good tan ⤷ lando.jpg 7 more races until we're back in mexico

user36 yeah okay i understand lando, i'm also in love

user37 still weird how fast he moved on ⤷ user38 he's an f1 driver what did you expect

[godbirdart]

Hello! I hope you are having a nice start to your week :) I seem to remember you recommending a certain tablet once and tried looking for it but couldn’t find it. Is there still one you recommend for art? I’ve got an ipad now but I was thinking of trying something different when it reaches the end of its days (but still hopefully a draw-on one). I think I’ve heard some tablets let you actually download programs and not just apps. I would love to just 1-time buy clip studio or something instead of the app subscription Dx

No worries if you don’t have a recommendation, I may have just misremembered. Either way, I hope you have a lovely evening and thanks for sharing your art! ^_^

Oh I can talk tablets for Hours don't even worry

I have a tablet that can download programs and that is this one right here!

The Huion Kamvas Studio 22

It's been retired from Huion's store for a couple years now, succeeded by Huion's new Kamvas Studio 24; the new, sleeker edition of my 22.

If you're looking for a tablet that can download actual software and not just act as a second display for your computer, you'll be looking specifically for a "Pen Computer". Huion currently offers two - the Kamvas Studio 24 and the travel-sized Kamvas Studio 16. Both come with Windows 11 preinstalled.

Huion also released the Kamvas Slate 10, and while it is categorized as a pen computer, it's designed to compete with tablets like the iPad or PicassoTab and operates on Android 12.

While the idea of an independent computer you can draw on the screen of isn't at all novel, they're still arguably "new" for the companies whose target demographic is artists. At the time of this post, Huion appears to be Wacom's main and only competitor in that field. Artisul, Gaomon and XPpen do not manufacture them. Options for standalone drawing tablets that can download software [not just apps like a phone] are largely limited to:

Huion Kamvas Studio 16

Huion Kamvas Studio 22

Huion Kamvas Studio 24

Wacom MobileStudio Pro 13

Wacom MobileStudio Pro 16

I know I hype up Huion a lot and that's primarily because I have actual firsthand experience with their products, but I cannot stress enough that the Huion can do the job just as well as the Wacom. If you're hellbent on the Wacom, get it when it's on BIG sale, or cheaper secondhand / refurbished. Wacom's MobileStudio line can start at around ~$2600 USD and up, whereas the Huion Kamvas Studio, while still costly, can start from ~$1700 USD. I've seen Kamvas Studio 22s floating around for around $1000 USD which is already $500 off what I originally paid for mine.

Pen computers are one hell of an investment but they're extremely convenient to have. I'm currently saving up for a Kamvas Studio 16 as my travel laptop barely has the power to support Clip Studio and I want to be able to take my work on the go without fumbling around with cords.

To anyone else reading: if I somehow missed the release of a pen computer from another art tablet brand, feel free to drop it in the replies! I'm usually on top of these but I've been so swamped with work the past two months I've barely enough time to check my social media most days lmao

[pain-in-the-butler]

How was the rest of the Kuroshitsuji panel? I'm curious lol

I'm so glad you asked! I was actually planning to make a post on this regardless of interest, so it's convenient that someone will actually already be curious to hear lol. Here is the long version of what happened at the panel:

Before CDawgVA, the directors, and Daisuke Ono came out onstage, they had a hype man going around and interviewing cosplayers in the audience/giving them random Crunchyroll prizes. He would ask the cosplayers to tell him something about their costume. My favorites were the Sebastian who cut their wig just that morning and the Ciel who left their neck bow at home, so they improvised one out of tissues and it actually looked pretty good. Here's my picture of it on the big screen:

I guess I'm an outlier who never watched a CDawgVA video, so seeing him in person was actually my first time seeing him ever. He seemed like a nice guy and happy to be there, I can see why people like him. He did a pretty good job inviting the guests onstage and asking them questions -

Producer Yoshito Ito and director Kenjirou Okada both received applause when they came out, but the crowd fuckin exploded for Daisuke Ono. He clearly has a lot of experience in working a room, he did a little theatrical bow when he walked out, and I think he said "yes, my lord" or something like that, I don't remember exactly. I'm actually not much of a fan of his, but I still joined everyone else in cheering loudly for him -

All the guests spoke Japanese and as far as I could tell the translator did a really good job up there, he was quick on the draw every time. I could tell the fan next to me spoke some Japanese and he seemed to think it was accurate -

To break the ice, CDawg asked the three panelists about what they thought of Los Angeles. I can't remember what the director and producer said, but Ono went to see a Lakers game and had a good time even though they lost -

Then CDawg (do people call him that or Connor? I actually don't know, sorry if I sound like a pleb) said that because Sebastian likes cats so much, he wonders if any of the panelists would like to have a cat. I believe it was Okada who said he had a cat two years ago when he lived with his parents, but when he moved out, his mother told him "The cat is staying here." Ito said he would rather have a dog, and Ono said he would also prefer a dog, but he would definitely name the dog "Sebastian" -

The panel was scheduled to be under an hour, so I was kind of glad when CDawg moved on from the goofy questions and asked about the anime. Ito and Okada talked about location scouting a little bit in England. They said the oddest thing for them was how there weren't mountains and that they could see the horizon even when they weren't near water. They said if they hadn't actually visited England, they probably would have put mountains around Weston...... -

CDawg also asked them about the food (and apologized for its taste before they could answer lol). Ito and Okada said that they enjoyed the fish and chips, but were surprised that afternoon tea did not live up to the hype. They didn't like the scones with clotted cream, which surprised CDawg, who said "clotted cream is the only good food we have" lmao -

Ito and Okada also talked about how they initially turned down an offer to make a new season, supposedly because they didn't think they could hold a candle to the earlier seasons. They said they later changed their minds when they realized that there were still fans of the series who wanted to see what came next. I personally don't buy that answer, but not for any reason other than it sounds fake. Maybe there's some truth to it (maybe) -

They also talked about how they really went into the Public School arc hoping to create something that felt different from the previous seasons. That was interesting to me, because it didn't really feel like that's what they were going for when I watched it, but okay I guess they were -

Ono said the most exciting thing for him about working on the Public School arc was that he was granted permission to give a more emotional performance this time. He believes that Ciel and Sebastian's experience fighting Undertaker on the Campania was a turning point in their relationship and that it changed the way he voiced Sebastian. He really did seem pleased with this fact, though it seemed to me that he could not remember Book of Atlantic very well lol—but that could have simply been due to the way the translator referred to it as "that cruise ship" -

I think that was when they took another little break to play a game CDawg came up with where the panelists had to guess what a few words in British slang meant. The first was the Welsh word "cwtch". We weren't supposed to take pictures but your girl took one anyway

"Cwtch" is pronounced "cootch" and CDawg said "Here's a hint: when you see Ciel, you want to give him a cwtch." Through no fault of the Welsh, CDawg clearly picked this word to sound like an innuendo, and some people in the audience were shouting "Kiss? Kiss?" I can't remember who, but either Ito or Okada's guess was something the translator apparently "Couldn't say out loud" with the impression that their guess was sexually inappropriate? Ono and the remaining director/producer guessed the word "hug" which was close: "cwtch" means "cuddle." It was such a bizarre moment, I stg when will we stop making sexual jokes about this child character. That includes you, Yana 🫵 -

The next word CDawg had everyone guess was "chuffed", with a picture of young Vincent celebrating his cricket victory. The hint was "you feel this after you win a cricket match." Both Ito and Okada correctly guessed "happy" and Ono guessed "like you want to drink a beer." CDawg said that that was truly in the spirit of English culture -

After that we got the Green Witch trailer, which was another bizarre moment, this time for the reason that we saw no new animation and we basically knew it was coming. Still, the audience went wild and it was fun to experience it together. We also got the 2025 release date so I guess that's cool -

Next, Ito and Okada talked about the upcoming season a little bit. The only thing of note that I can recall is that they said they weren't going location scouting this time because Sieglinde's village wasn't a real place. However, they said they planned to take a lot of inspiration from the manga itself. These points struck me as disheartening and obvious in turn, but I guess at least they were honest -

Ono said he was excited to give a darker performance this time around. He also said, mostly likely to drum up the crowd, that he was a little nervous but that he could do anything with "Ciel" (Maaya Sakamoto) by his side, and yes the audience did eat it up with more applause -

After that, CDawg raffled off what looked to be a drawing of Sebastian, possibly by Yumi Shimizu, signed by Daisuke Ono. They had given us these tickets before the panel started and the person with the winning number got the prize. Shockingly, I did not win -

Next someone came and took a picture of the panelists and the audience in the background, then Daisuke Ono did this thing where he waved at everyone and got us to wave with him, and finally the panel ended after roughly fifty minutes

Overall, I give the event a 6/10. We didn't have a lot of time, so I understood that they couldn't go too in-depth and that they wanted to keep it lighthearted too, but I personally would have appreciated some more interesting information on season 4 or something juicy about season 5. As it was, it felt like a lot of what we learned was entirely unsurprising. But it was nice of everyone to come all the way from Japan and the UK, and I guess it's kind of cool to say I've seen Daisuke Ono live now, even though he's only my third favorite Sebastian. My expectations were low, I went just to say I was there, and what I mainly gained was a bit of whimsical joy at being in a room full of Kuro fans, which is no bad prize at all.

[popcorndispenser]

Did anyone say... young Des anger issues oneshot? Ft Raymond being awesome?

...No? Just me? Aw. Oh well, here it is -

@jistda pings you right back. Your art inadvertently kicked me in the ass to remind me to post this lmao

Raymond was awoken in the wee hours of the morning by a mighty CRASH from the floor above.

The middle-aged butler slept in the Sycamore manor for the convenience of the madam and master, but in his own unique quarters, seperated enough from them that they needn't think of his existence unless they wished to. Perhaps so he didn't appear to be more of the family than he was.

Raymond was perfectly fine with the arrangement - not needing to pay rent unless he made an unnecessary expense (such as a hot bath) was well worth it in his opinion, as well as the fact that he genuinely enjoyed his job and appreciated not having to take commute to arrive at it every day. It had never stung that he knew they conspired still to keep him out of sight and mind equal, as he was so proficient in that art, working with such speed that it occasionally felt as though the rooms had been compelled to clean themselves by magic.

Seperate he was, but his room was stationed almost directly beneath the room of the young master Desmond, which was of rather some concern considering the volume of the noise he had heard and the fact that the current time was just past 3 in the morning, far too early for a young lad to be up and getting himself into trouble.

No further noise presented itself beside the hurrying of tiny feet, so Raymond was left to assume that the boy's parents hadn't been woken as he himself had... or, unfortunately, that they hadn't cared enough to pay it mind.

Raymond hefted a heavy sigh, slipping from the comfort and warmth of his luxuriant bedsheets to try and make himself presentable, changing into a comfier version of his usual attire and slipping on his patch-pattern slippers. Best to go ensure the boy hadn't hurt himself.

It was a chilly night, the air blooming with the frost of autumn, and Raymond checked several times that the windows were closed tight as he passed by. Making his way up the great staircase he had to watch his step as to not misstep. It would be a boon to illuminate his path, but alas, it wasn't possible. The only available lights were that of the great chandeliers above in the high arched ceiling, and he would not dare to risk waking the master and madam up by alighting those.

The butler paused outside of Desmond's room, hesitating to hear for anything suspicious before rapping his knuckles at the door once, twice, thrice, and calling out for him softly.

Shuffling noises that had been audible within immediately stopped, a childish behaviour that amused him to no end, to think that a sudden absence of noise was in any way /less/ suspicious.

"Young master?" He called, careful to soften his voice, again aware of the boy's parents sleeping down the hall. "Are ye alright?"

Another beat of silence. Raymond held back a slight urge to groan. Instead he simply knocked once more.

"There've been some concerning noises... just open up eh, I only wish to make sure you are alright."

The butler's accent was thicker with sleep, he knew.

"I-I'm okay!" The young master finally called back, voice wobbly and warbling in a way that instantly sent alarm bells to Raymond's head and heart and woke him the rest of the way. "I'm sorry for waking you, really." And the voice grew closer, Desmond obviously moving nearer to the door to be heard without projecting himself. "But there's really nothing to worry about. You can - you /should/ go back to bed."

"Och, I don't think so." Raymond frowned deeply, more determined than ever to see what was amiss. "If you could even allow me to see you, to ensure that you are unharmed, that would be plenty."

"My voice doesn't assure you that I am well?"

"Quite the opposite."

A pause, and then- "Okay." The boy huffed, sounding annoyed. "Okay, okay. One sec-"

Raymond waited patiently until the great oak door finally clicked open, and looked down at the sight of a remarkably uncomfortable looking Desmond Sycamore, bedraggled and eyes ringed with a loss of sleep. The eleven year old looked like he had been dragged through a hedge.

Even with the dim lighting of only the boy's nightlight and the glow of the moon peeking in through his opened curtains, Desmond's was visibly in a state. His normally well-styled curles were a mess on his head like he'd been tearing at them, and his clothes were in a similar dissaray - school tie undone and lying scrunched up over his shoulders, vest gone and his button-up tee that had been freshly ironed and crisp just that evening, now creased and wrinkled with the bottommost button missing. Yet all of this was not nearly as pressing as-

"Yer hands!" Raymond hissed, ignoring all manners as he shoved the door the rest of the way open and yanked the child's hand up to better view it. It was as bad as he'd feared - the knuckles were split and bruised purple, cuticles torn, a nail was chipped. More to that were small cuts all over his fingers and the back of his hand, deeper ones nearer to the knuckles, still oozing small beads of blood. None of it was serious damage and yet it felt like the end of the world to behold. "Bloody Mary, what in hell have you been up to-"

"I-I'm fine!" Desmond desperately protested, trying to pull his hands back to no avail. When Raymond kept looking at him sternly, prompting an answer, the humiliated child finally caved, scrunching his nose as he scowled and gestured for the butler to step further inside. "Quickly, so they don't hear!"

'Are they the boogeyman to you, lad?' Raymond mused, confused and concerned. 'One would hope a boy's first instinct when he is hurt would be to go to his parents, but...'

But the Sycamores had never really acted like a true family. From the day they had adopted Des, Raymond had privately mused if it had simply been a checked box for them, something to complete this concept of 'grow up, marry, start a business, raise a child' that society propagated no matter the circumstance, a completely cynical decision. It was an unpleasant thought though sadly not uncharacteristic of the couple he knew so well by now.

The boy's room was in a worse state than he was. Fresh sheets wrenched up and around like he'd fought with them, curtains wrenched over, and most obtrusively was a shattered vase on the ground by his study area. Having once been am ostentatious gift from the elder master's work friends, the man had placed it in Desmond's room, citing it as an apparently greatly valuable antique he'd thought Desmond would enjoy due to his 'interest in archaeology', not knowing the boy's 'interest' only extended toward the ancient Azran civilization and not much else. Well... it was currently in pieces on the carpet, so it didn't matter after all.

"I didn't mean to knock it, honest." Desmond mumbled, head bowed and playing with his hands. Raymond watched with concern as he kept digging his nails into the damage, exacerbating it further. Was he /trying/ to harm himself-? "I got the cuts from trying to bin it. I didn't think the noise would wake anyone up. Really, I'm sorry."

Raymond reached out to seperate the boy's nails from his hand before he drew even more blood, and the youngster had enough presence of mind to look abashed at being caught doing it. "If that was an accident, what of the rest of this?" The butler pressed gently.

Desmond went red. "No, no. Um. The rest, I guess was intentional. Or not really. Ugh... It's not like I was trying to mess everything up, I just..." he slumped, red eyes dim and welling up. "I got really upset and I started lashing out at everything."

"What could've possibly incensed ye so much at 3 in the ruddy morning?"

The boy tensed, screwing his eyes shut. A beat, and then- "I can't remember Theo's face anymore." Desmond whispered.

Ah. That clicked it into place. Any frustration melted out of the man like water, and in it's place sat a deep melancholy.

Raymond knew what happened to Desmond's family - had been told at length during one of the boy's many episodes of which he had never felt safe to inform his 'parents' - and ever since first even getting an implication of the details had felt a deep sorrow hearing about it. It was obvious that the incident that seperated Desmond from his parents and particularly from his brother had scarred and emotionally damaged him, and unfortunately may just do so for life. Theodore was the light of Desmond's life even as far away as he was, the reason the boy gave for everything he did, the goals he worked towards. Of course the idea of him fading away from memory would hurt.

And the boy had had one of his... episodes. Had probably punched the walls, or perhaps even that massive vase, and nearly broken his bleeding hand in the process. Had stayed alone as his thoughts spiralled, still not seeking out any comfort.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Raymond wondered softly.

Desmond's face scrunched up bitterly, and the young master turned away so any further expressions wouldn't be seen.

"I didn't want you to get tired of this stuff. I didn't want you to go go away."

Raymond exhaled slowly, feeling tears surge in his own eyes, and before he could think it through he had dropped to one knee and pulled the boy tightly to his chest, muffling Desmond's choked sob of surprise. "I will never go away, do ye hear me?" He murmered, running a hand comfortingly through the boy's hair, an action he knew the master of the house should be here to do, and felt another intense fire of anger burn through him. When was the last time Mr Sycamore had even spoken to his child?, "Through hell and high water, young master, I will stick with you. Heaven knows someone ought to."

Desmond curled up against him, a week keen breaking through the boy's lips as he wept. "I miss him. I miss him so much. God, Raymond, it hurts so much. Destroying things - destroying myself, I thought it'd help, but it didn't - I'm sorry."

"I know, I know." Raymond soothed, closing his eyes so as to not allow any tears of his own to fall. "I'm so sorry, lad. But please don't hurt yourself. It makes me awfully sad as well. Please come to me next time you feel this way."

"Okay" Desmond gasped out, hands tightening. "M'sorry."

"I know, lad."

"I'm so sorry."

"I know. I know."

In the end, Raymond cleaned up the remainders of the razor-sharp shards, all too aware that he shouldn't leave the boy alone by them, not trusting him to not mess with them again. And by morning come Desmond was perfectly presentable again, hair combed back and clothes perfectly straightened. Neither of his parents commented on his bandaged knuckles.

And though Desmond now looked as calm as the ocean beyond, Raymond /seethed/ on his behalf.

[shaunashipman]

'yeah we're the fetishists meanwhile you ppl want to shove tommy and josh together just because they're both gay so that your preferred men can fuck each other' i mean we want josh (the only queer man on this show who isn't, like, super conventionally attractive and masculine) to find love and y'all are creaming yourselves over a relationship and character that you would not give a fuck about if it wasn't gay so i think you're still the fetishists lmao

oh fuck right off you don't give a shit about josh you just want a convenient way to get rid of tommy. that's why every post about how the two of them should get together is actually about b*ddie, not one single post I've seen is just about tommy and josh, it's always "and here's how we can get b*ddie"

saying they'd make a good pairing when they've literally never even met and the only thing they have in common is being gay is classic "pair the spares" which is literally about getting rid of the pesky SO's, like don't fucking try and pretend this is anything about wanting good things for josh

and call me a fetishist one more time for enjoying a canon bisexual character in his first queer relationship I fucking dare you. yeah, as a bisexual woman, I am more interested in a queer relationship than a straight one, i'm not gonna apologize for that, it is not fetishistic to want to see representation of my own fucking identity you creep

the disgusting homophobia to call a bunch of queer people enjoying representation that we rarely get to see fetishists is absolutely appalling. even if tommy is gone by the end of the season, we're not gonna forget the absolutely disgusting dehumanizing things you people have said

[lilbittymonster]

Does it matter whether other people consider your OC sexually attractive? Did this inform your thinking when you were creating them? Also was it important that you put them in a relationship with a character who is generally considered "attractive"?

What is your favourite depiction of romance (or sex if you prefer) that you have produced? Or if you haven't produced one yet, then what is your favourite example from another creator?

Does it matter whether other people consider your OC sexually attractive? Did this inform your thinking when you were creating them? Also was it important that you put them in a relationship with a character who is generally considered "attractive"?

I was transferring her into the world of XIV from a failed 5e campaign, so really the only thought I had when making Kitali was "okay how close am I going to be able to get to making a tiefling in XIV?" I am genuinely surprised that people find Kitali attractive, especially the results from that whole smash/pass trend that was going around a while back. I don't particularly enjoy trying to make her ~sexy~, and that generally doesn't tend to get attention. I'm not going to sugarcoat it, she's hard to like. Most of what makes her attractive to me is her competence and raw power not how well she'd look as a pinup. She's a tomboy, she doesn't do femininity like that.

I think shipping with a character who is considered conventionally attractive and only because they are considered conventionally attractive is superficial as shit. Looks don't matter to me as much as the actual chemistry between characters. When I was planning out a wolstinien ship arc, it was based in the DRG4DRG juice and the fact that Estinien is the first person to ever actually stick up for her and treat her like a person, not as either a convenient solution to a primal-shaped problem or as an idolised war hero. Whether or not he was attractive (which we didn't even see until well into the HW patches) didn't factor into the question.

Aymeric, on the other hand.......my first reaction to meeting him was "oh he's pretty" followed immediately by "Kitali is never going to want anything to do with him". I am still not quite sure how that ship snuck up on me but here we are. I am just the narrator, Kitali went and did that all on her own. But again, they have an interpersonal dynamic that just works, looks plays no part in it.

What is your favourite depiction of romance (or sex if you prefer) that you have produced? Or if you haven't produced one yet, then what is your favourite example from another creator?

As far as romance goes, I think the most Typically Romantic thing I have done thus far is this one (full post)

Romance novel cover long walk on the beach lmao.

Second closest is this one I did for polyam week. (full version here)

Aymeric is so full of love for his wife (and sake, so much sake).

Some other personal faves are this one, this one, this one, and this one.

The spicy ones are few and far between but I'm particularly pleased with how this one came out (full links on the post).

As far as shouting out some of my favourite creators; @tallbluelady does the most atmospheric and tender wolianger posting. @myreia has such an in-depth exploration of the epic highs and lows of wolcred through the expansions. @sparrowsong-7's gpose comics are some of the most wistful and fluffy and longing and achingly beautiful ships and I am hanging on every crumb.

Thanks so much for the asks @mimble-sparklepudding!

OC Relationship Building Asks

[see-arcane]

objectively the funniest part of frankenstein is that he didn't even abandon the creature, he went on a little stress induced walksie and when he came back BOOM no more creature. Actually I lied funniest part of Frankenstein is the creature going ''man my creator must think I'm an unholy abomination'' based on no evidence and then victor going ''man the creature I haven't seen in two years must hate me enough to hunt down my family and kill them'' ALSO based on no evidence. They meet up like "wow! you are really living up to my insane preconceived notions. This sucks."

The actual funniest part is that, upon meeting properly post-William and Justine deaths, the Creature guilts Victor into sitting and hearing out his tragic origin story and Victor is like,

"Man, I guess I really don't have evidence it was him that did the murdering and framing. That's my bad. I should sit and hear him out instead of judging him just on vibes!"

And then the Creature ends his sob story with,

"Yeah, no, I absolutely murdered the shit out of that small child (your brother) and cheered about it. Same with framing that hot chick (your nanny and family friend) in her sleep for being too hot and definitely bound to not want to date me if she saw me. Also, you have to invent me a girlfriend. You owe me."

And Victor realizes his vibe read was 110% accurate.

"This sucks."

And the Creature proceeds to carry on doing revenge-tantrum-Making Victor a Fellow Miserable Wretch plan while being 110% convinced that he is in the right and that Victor and his innocent loved ones have definitely for sure earned all of this very Luciferian and cool homicide

"This sucks so much for me, personally, as I feel so icky about the murdering."

"So? Don't murder anyone?"

"No, I'm gonna"

And then people for the next 200 years decided with increasing and worrisome lack of irony that Victor was the reeeal villain and the Creature was no more than an innocent baby boy lashing out at society..!*

*Society here not referring to literally any of the people who actually hurt the Creature, but instead entirely premeditated victims whose only crime was 'loved by Victor.' Which could have its own unique reads in how easily the story lens could have gone to the other half of the Luciferian motif--not hubris, but envy.

The Creature is alone, unloved. He discovers his Creator and his origins. He rages. He spies all these beautiful people in Victor's life; his true family. And when Victor refuses to make a custom wretch to be his companion, he rips Victor's family away, forcing Victor himself to become that desired loved-loathed counterpart. The Bastard Son VS the Loved Ones, plus a dose of highlighting how people aren't after Justice so much as a Convenient Target/Scapegoat. (RIP Justine, Victor)

But no no no, let's just stick with 'Too much science scary-bad! Pride and goals = family murder! Look at this dumb deadbeat dad suffer, ha ha.'

lmao

[pynkhues]

ooooooh would love your comment on this post (maybe just straight up under that post). considering your own stance on magnus' fortune 👀

https://www.tumblr.com/virginiaisforvampires/762167499843321856/hi-i-often-see-this-opinion-being-repeated-that?source=share

I mean, in terms of how it's possible for that anon's ask, I'd say that it's because a lot of the wealth Magnus left Lestat wasn't money, it was jewellery and artefacts that will generally gain value over time, so are probably worth eye-watering amounts of money now. Apologies for my crappy photos, haha (conveniently my copy of TVL is still on my desk), but:

(He then just looks at how beautiful he is in the pearlhandled mirror for like, four paragraphs lmao, I love this book so much).

But yeah, I mean, I disagree with that tumblr user's thesis that Lestat is very intelligent and invested well, honestly. I love Lestat a lot, which I think everyone on here probably knows at this point, haha, he was a formative character for me growing up and I love that we're getting such an incredible adaptation of him now, but Lestat sort of lacking intellectually is, to me, a pretty central (and charming!) part of his character.

He was an incredibly abused and neglected child - deliberately uneducated by both his parents, one out of a desire to control, and the other out of a lack of patience - and while for many children that can and does shut the world off, what I love about Lestat is that, especially in the books, it's bred this almost childlike sense of enchantment and wonder for him for every new thing he gets to experience.

And look, yeah, there is a pragmatism in him, which has I think been wrung out of being the only semi-competent person / the only true survivor in his family, and that pragmatism I think is probably what saw him hand over the wealth to an institution who could care for it, but at the same time, I don't know if I agree that Lestat likes to be a provider necessarily.

He invests in people because he loves them, and he gives them money because he has it (and probably feels a degree of detachment to it as a result of how he got it). Lestat buys the Theatres des Vampires and continues to send them money because he loved Nicki, and he invested in The Azaelia because he loves Louis - the fact that the latter was a good business investment and Louis a smart and capable businessman is incidental - Lestat would've invested anyway which we can basically see given the Theatres des Vampires has already had to downsize theatres and seems to be haemorrhaging money yet Lestat never cut them off.

I guess what I'm saying is that when it comes to everything - money included - Lestat's a character who thinks with his heart, not his head.

[bonefall]

If you flip the spade upside down and put it on Gorseclaw’s neck, it could kind of look like a tie

Hello anon with the most convenient ask in my inbox, you have been selected to receive a FLOOD OF SKETCHES

I had only drawn Gorseclaw and Ripplestar before, and I'm about to do a redesign of Larkstripe so that she has the "hearts" motif that her son gets. I did a bunch of sketches just to try and figure stuff out so, messy post

Glossary:

Ripplestar

Gorseclaw and Spottedpelt

Larkstripe

Birdflight, Marshscar

After I post this I'm gonna jump back into Clip to play with Cloudstar next

RIPPLESTAR

[ID: A sketch of BB!Ripplestar. The text points out his major features and reads, "Heterochromia: Amber + Brown." Smooth scruff, with an arrow that points out the shape. Ginger on 1 side. Deer-eared. 3 layers with an arrow that points out the three stacks of fur on his chest. Wooly, kinda like a half-shorn sheep.]

I've actually drawn Ripplestar a lot in the margins of my notes and such, so this design's pretty solid.

I change the side the hearts are on, plus the number of hearts, literally every single time I've ever drawn him lmao. It dozen madder.

What DOES matter though is that there's a HEART over his BRIGHTER eye. I use it as a bit of a visual metaphor, if he's trying to size you up or negotiate with you, he keeps you in the bright eye. When he trusts you or becomes comfortable with you in some way, he turns the brown eye on you.

So in most scenes where he's not talking to family I imagine he's not fully looking at his conversational partner. Especially on the Highrock as leader of ShadowClan, because the layout makes the leaders sit side-by-side. Might as well play with that simple logistic fact, y'know?

He does this because I imagine this marking kind of intimidates people. It's like the ginger of his eye socket has set his iris ablaze with fire, while the other is as cold as rain-soaked peat.

The ear on the "colorful" side is also orange. All of his orange is on one side, except for his tail-tip.

He's actually distantly related to Nightcloud-- his Honor Sire (who was known but not involved) went on to have a mate. So he's the half-brother of one of her ancestors, and Nightcloud has inherited this thick, wooly fur texture.

Again, I draw him a lot so this was the easiest one. I didn't have to decide anything besides that I made his nose into a cute lil carebear heart.

The drawing I did for this synopsis of Ripplestar's Rot was actually the first time I drew him, for comparison! It's fun to see what's been streamlined.

GORSECLAW AND SPOTTEDPELT

FIRST sketches didn't feel right.

[ID: BB!Gorseclaw and BB!Spottedpelt. They have long, curly tails, long claws, and bell-shaped heads. Gorseclaw has a sharp 'tie' on his chest, and Spottedpelt has a heart]

I feel like Gorseclaw's spades look too much like diamonds in this one, but I was really going for a tie.

I've been giving him those sideburns for months, so, they don't really fit the "shape theory" but I'm having a hard time removing them lmao.

And this is the first time I drew Spots which is a shame. I love a bad bitch.

If you look at my designs, you can notice that I have a few traits that cats from each Clan "tend" to have. They're all pretty genetically similar actually and there's a lot of crossings between the groups, secret or otherwise, but some traits just get selected for more than others, and StarClan is likely to toss them into kits. SkyClan has saggy skin (like a bear) and really bendy tails.

Don't think it's come through well here, though. In future drafts I'm going to try and make them saggier.

(Why? It actually helps them against insect stings and impact damage, like falling from trees and being hit by branches)

Then I went on to draft 2,

[ID: Second draft of the characters above. Spottedpelt is fatter, with "dapples" on her back which are actually spades, and a distinctive spade-shaped mask. The ears of both siblings are now spade-shaped, and Gorseclaw's tie is different, along with Spottedpelt's heart with is now more of a medal.]

I like Spottedpelt a LOT more in this draft. That's probably going to be close to the final design I do, I'm really vibing with the dapple-spades.

I DON'T like Gorseclaw in this one though, the face shape reminds me waaay too much of Dustpelt's familial face-plate. Absolutely going to revise that, probably making it more mask-like akin to Spots'.

Also very proud of myself for the spade-shaped ears.

Hate Gorse's tie here though, that's not a tie that is a stinkhorn mushroom.

But Spots' medal is excellent. Absolutely keeping that. She is a distinguished little war crime kitty

Still not fat and saggy enough. Coming back to this. I need to learn how to draw a primordial pouch.

LARKSTRIPE

I'm trying to redesign her and I'm losing :/

[ID: BB!Larkstripe. She's a very plain cat with a string of hearts from her eye down to her leg, with a heart-shaped nose, cutie marks, and a heart-shaped tail tip]

This was the FIRST first draft of the redesign and that heart chain is underwhelming.

It felt like too much of a downgrade from the diamond-pattern Larkstripe I did, and I'm worried that maybe it's because diamonds just look so much nicer in a "chain"

I feel like I see too many perfect hearts on chests in WC designs, so when I do them, I try to do something weird with them like what I did to Heartstar

So I turned hers into a little fur tuft splash. I like the idea tbh, I might repurpose it for another design.

[ID: A version of the above sketch with bigger hearts on the chain and a single heart on the flank, followed by another sketch attempting to make the stripe more "blobbish"]

I'm beginning to think that maybe I don't like the sketches because Larkstripe is sad :( I like when I can draw her angry, before the strikebreaking broke her

And unfortunately she is the absolute most tragic character in BB. They took the fight out of her. I figure it would be symbolically fitting for the heart shape on her chest to "break" after Dalestar's decree.

For those asking questions, no, she never joins Skypelt. She is convinced she did the wrong thing and ended up unleashing an era of suffering on the Clans by having Ripplestar follow in her footsteps, though she had no control over him.

She's a character who would offer her life as an example during trials involving the Cleric's Vow, especially since I've gutted Moth Flight in BB. She argues about how important it is to avoid birthing cats who will claim their conquest is holy in the name of their parents.

She would also have something to say to Mudfur, admonishing him for breaking his Vow so openly, even saying that he's responsible for Leopardstar and all of her choices.

Basically, Larkstripe is beaten. She is a very tired, shameful spirit who repeats exactly what Silverpelt told her, during her own trial. She's so grateful to be here that she acts with devotion towards it.

Hurt people hurt people and all

But anyway, I still feel like it's a bit of a downgrade from the older design for Larkstripe, so I'm probably going to keep playing with it.

BIRDFLIGHT AND MARSHSCAR

[ID: BB!Birdflight. She's a tabby with the spades motif, long bases stretching up into hears on her shoulder, side, and flank.]

I want her to look old and tired. She's got that Leafpoolyness about her.

She's technically the very first member of the Tigerkin family, and has those characteristic long-claws.

I imagine in Clanmew her name is actually Yassgafba, "Raptor preparing to take flight." I have this really sad mental image of a majestic hawk that keeps spreading its wings, as if to take off and fly away, but never does.

Fitting, because she waited her whole life for Cloudstar to send word they'd found a new home, to come and fetch her and their children, but never did.

While I'm at the trivia, yes, Ripplestar and her were very close. Larkstripe argues in StarClan that Ripplestar started his war because of her, but it's not true. It was Birdflight who made him believe that Cloudstar would never abandon his family; if they hadn't heard from him, something was very wrong.

She died before he became leader, probably of a sickness outbreak. She likely didn't take the journey because she's immunocompromised in some way, plus the two newborns.

She was given a place in StarClan, but I'm not sure if she followed Ripplestar and Birdflight into the Dark Forest. She DID vote to accept them though.

I think she's practical about this. Leave for the Dark Forest, and you loose your voting power in StarClan.

She sees that there are very few SkyClan ancestors left here, hears Skystar scoff that the others are fools for leaving, that if more had remained then the rebels would not have been damned... and understands the value in his words.

If there's any reason for the Tigerkin Curse (which I hadn't really been working with until now, tbh, I just chalked it up to Bad Mojo on the night of Ripplestar's last stand), it's probably related to Birdflight in some way. Which is why no one knows what's causing it.

I don't know why, yet, though. Maybe it's an accident on her part. She could be crafting their litters, but every time she finishes a set, she can't help but cry about how much the fresh souls remind her of the newborns that stopped her from joining her mate, and her kits in the Dark Forest.

It's probably why the PROPER curse might stop abruptly after SkyClan's return. She joins Skypelt as soon as it's an option.

[ID: BB!Marshscar. He's a scrawny, battle-scarred old tabby with a diamond motif.]

He doesn't have any markings in-canon so I tried to just make all of his scars diamond-shaped. I don't think it works, I'm going to give him some markings.

I like the ears though, that's staying. I might also borrow from the old Larkstripe design, give him those funky diamond-spikes on his chest.

I have barely talked about him, but he is actually very important to Ripplestar. They've been mates since they were young warriors.

I kinda want to make it so that Spottedpelt was Ripplestar's deputy before being killed that night, but it was always implicit that if something happened to them, Marshscar was next in charge.

This drawing is definitely when he's older and more worn-out, he lives a long life without Ripplestar, ruling ShadowClan reluctantly, half-heartedly doing the bare minimum.

It's a downer story, and I think it really fits the theme here that Clan Culture is about to get a whole lot worse before it gets better... but still I love the fact that Ripplestar's Rot just ends with the entire cast like

[ID: Spongebob sits at a diner with his hands folded, frowning slightly, disquieted and deep in thought]

Like there really isn't a happy camper in this one lmao. Nobody wins. Alexa play 'That's Not How The Story Goes'

[vacantgodling]

Hi, I hate to be a bother but is chapter 1 of Paramour (hope I'm spelling that right) the only chapter you've shared or are there more posted? your writing is so good and I've fallen in love with the story after seeing your anniversary art. Also, do you post it anywhere outside of Tumblr? unfortunately, the color scheme of your blog and the size of the font makes it hard for my poor eyesight to read (No hate to you btw I just zoom in real close)

hello hello!! firstly you are not at ALL a bother <3 (also you're spelling it right lol) regarding my desktop blog, i bumped up the font size so i hope that's helped it be a bit more readable? i'm planning on changing up color schemes and the like at the end of this year, but i hope the size change makes it more bearable ;3;

secondly, hearing that people like my writing enough to want to seek more of it has me giggling and kicking my feet so THANK YOU for enjoying chapter 1 and the art so much--there's some details that may or may not get added in whenever i eventually make a third pass at writing this behemoth and i spent 6 hours slaving over that drawing LMAO SO i really appreciate you reading it AND telling me you enjoyed it im so EEEE

at this time, i'm not formally publishing / putting out paramour because its still very much a work-in-progress (essentially, i'm working on draft 2 right now bc i'm doing some major outline renovating, but tbh i'm thinking that when i DO feel like i'm at the point that i want to publish it, i'm kinda leaning towards a serial style like @/stjohnstarling's what manner of man... but those are details for several years from now, i'm just rambling at this point) BUT FEAR NOT!! its my main obsession at all times and i have posted a TON about it on my blog. but for your convenience, i've compiled all the 'main' writing bits that i've posted on this blog over the past several years into this ask so that way if you wanna just read the 'main' meat and potatoes that i've decided to release from the vault so to speak... then here they are.

but, if in general you want to peruse my main wip tag, i talk about paramour so much its Ridiculous lmao -> s: paramour and you can check out the overview powerpoint intro i made for it here, just to get a clearer picture of what the heckie is going on lol -> powerpoint intro

anyway though, the list of main writings, broken into a couple of sections. i will also preface, that chapter 1 doesn't make it too apparent--but there is a LOT of sex, kink, and romance involved in this story. so proceed at your own disgression dear anon since i'm not sure how you feel about that lol.

MAIN WIP WRITINGS (in chronological story order)

paramour draft 2 chapter 1: pre-wedding

paramour (title drop 👀 but this scene is gonna end up slightly different in draft 2)

midnight query (amon and erecia talk in some undetermined chapter)

the bird & the worm (flashback to amon at 12)

but i am not (a bit from chapter 9 of draft 1)

masquerade (the first time hya and amon fuck—there is smut proceed with caution. also the latter half of chapter 9 draft 1)

an invitation (excerpt from chapter 10 draft 1)

displeasure (a relationship snippet from an undetermined chapter)

nervous (just hya and amon being kinky)

ties that bind (kink interrupted by feelings from some undetermined chapter)

divine (some sappy shit from an undetermined chapter)

hiccup (excerpt from chapter 20 of draft 1)

AUS & JUST FOR FUNZIES (meaning not in the main wip)

jealousy (amon & hya slums au—where both of them grow up in central halifax)

pleasure (amon’s birthday present 2023-> this is sex/smut so proceed with caution)

a fool’s errand (role swap au—aka the au where amon is rich and hya is the butler)

laundry (role swap au)

wedding invitation (role swap au—amon being friends with myrtus makes me insane actually)

i know what you’re saying (amon & hya slums au)

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

Funny pinned post time bc it felt more convenient ⬇⬇

Hi I'm Mick aprofessionalwithoutstandards (or Maria, or Mickey), I'm twenty, bisexual, bigender transmasculine she/him, Latino, weird in the head, all that good. I might talk kinda strangely or not respond at all sometimes, so bear with me, it's all on me n not you. I'm almost always not trying to start shit. I really do love talking to people so always feel free to talk :)

This is my tf2 blog and has always been only a tf2 blog, sometimes I post Portal stuff too

I make posts. I failed to start an original post tag so most original posts are just tagged #tf2

This is not a primarily NSFW blog but I do reblog porn and have genuine, non-jokey conversations about sex and kink from time to time (the latter is much more common than the former). All of that is tagged under "#mick dicks", so block that tag if you don't want to see any of that sort of content

"#open mick night" is a wreck of a tag but technically it's for anything more personal or anecdotal. Sometimes it means "not tf2" but more often it means "gameplay anecdote"

"#mick fics" is my fic tag. I think my art tag is just "#my art" but I don't draw for tf2 a lot </3 "#oc tag" is for my ocs

I tag for slurs (reclaimed or otherwise), excessive gore, body horror, drugs, and mentions of pregnancy more explicit than the baboon uterus. If you want something else to be tagged, feel free to ask me, but full transparency I will not tag for blood, light gore, or guns. They're kind of unavoidable

I like Sniper, I main Sniper, I even, as the kids say, kin Sniper. This isn't like a roleplay blog or anything, referring to me as him and him as me is just done bc it goes to my head

Not like a dedicated ship blog but I do post a lot of ship stuff. Primarily swordvan, bushmed, demomedic, and funny adminsniper, but you'll basically see everything here from time to time. I try to keep it all tagged for your convenience

The only thing I ask is that you don't send me stuff abt sniperscout/speedingbullet, it's not like a "dni" you can interact if you post that idc but it's a big personal preference and I'd like to have that respected, tysm Oh also no scoutpauling asks tysm

I don't really have a dni but I am just going to ask people to be normal. I'm just some guy and people who send me asks and stuff are also just some guys, respect me and respect other people. I know there can feel like a disconnect but I do see everything people say in my notes and I'm generally trying to cultivate a nice positive setting for everyone lmao. When I complain abt stuff don't take it too seriously lol, we're all just here to have fun

Figured I should stick this on here somewhere: I've never watched Emesis Blue, I don't know what Freak Fortress is, I have never played Team Fortress Classic and I do not care, and I have little to no interest in "fem fortress"posting (I do not consider the trans/nonbinary headcanons I have for some characters to be "fem fortress"). Nothing against any of these things, I just don't really care about them and won't be able to answer questions about them

Main is @biracy (so I reply and send asks from here), ao3 is biracy, Steam acc is Grampus Gaming

[not-goldy]

Not your followers thinking Jimin doesn't need to be big star also. Are they even sane ??? EACH AND EVERY MEMBER IN BTS IS AMBITIOUS AF, ESPECIALLY JM. But unlike JK, JM is not airhead to keep on saying he want to be next big thing, want to be seen as this het fuckboy who only sings about sex to be seen as mature, want to be one and only kpop star to do so bla bla bla all while not lifting a pen to write songs, won't have streams and sales without a 938397328 versions and all that mediaplay from company. Or atleast the bare minimum hold a mic properly and talk/sing without fidgeting and embarrassing yourself. How you gonna dominate western market without even communication skills lmao.. those times when he used to stand in shade of RM is gone lol. Jk's big project DREAMERS debuted under bubbling 100 while JM gave that YG company their 1st hot 100 entry by a collab. So saying JK is this and that while we are not seeing results organically is dumb af. Golden maknae because he sing and dance some white man's songs which company already bought success for ? Oh there's 100 other artists who sings and dance way better than him. He can't hold 5 mins on stage if he's doing a dance battle with Jimin lol.

What company doing to members IS INJUSTICE AF.. especially Jimin who fucking proved he can also be the 'next big thing'. But they conveniently sweep him under rug so his shine won't affect their industry plant launch. Or why can't they support him too ???? Is it that difficult ? JK didn't do a shit and got everything. I BET HE WONT DEBUT NO.1 FOR SEVEN NOR GET ALL THOSE RECORDS IF IT WAS NOT THE PUSH FROM SCOOTS. BE FR. Go and check his BB points to see how payola impacted his chart. It would've been a -48 like 3D on second week too. While what we asked for Jimin was the deserved support in 2nd week for a song which fucking went no.1 with fans support and artist impact alone. It's NOT secretly wishing JK's treatment for JM, but asking what he fucking deserves. Literally any company will give the extra promos for his in 2nd week but not hybe who's on a mission to sell themselves to somehow establish JK in west 😬

And don't say JM will chose me over JK. Did I said I want JM to chose me ????? THIS IS HIS CAREER HE WORKED HARD FOR NOT A FUCKASS RELATIONSHIP. Even if you look at their relationship also, it's the same lol. JM keep on giving and giving him his everything while JK sit back and enjoy Jimin while not even bothering to post a simple bday wish or go and meet him even after him begging a 100 times.

YOU CANT CALL OTHERS JK ANTIS BECAUSE THEY SEE TRUTH AND SAY IT OUT LOUD. Ask him to play fairly like a man 1st, then we will see who's the real winner here ?

DAMN IF PSYCHO WAS A PERSON

IF HE'S WINNING DOES IT MATTER HOW HE'S WINNING???? DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW THINGS WORK IN THIS WORLD OR ARE YOU ONE OF THE DELULUS WHO THINK HARD WORK IS EVERYTHING?

You are crazy if you think money, connections, power, politics, privilege and luck play zero role in making a star. Please find other 2 yr olds and hug them, don't bring this shit to the adult table its embarrassing.

I'm embarrassed for you.

Scoot---- okay, MA'AM A PUSH IS A PUSH WHETHER IT'S FROM SCOOBY-DOO OR THE DEVIL

TAKE YOUR WEIRD MORAL COMPASS AND CHICKEN CHANGE ETHICS TO SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY GIVES A FUCK

READ MY LIPS

Go weep somewhere else.

You gonna come on the internet and bitch complain bout how the entertainment industry is not fair WELL BOO HOO CRY ME A RIVER YOU LOSER.

And make sure you come with a costume next time so we know the circus from whence you came Missy Clowniot.

You give PJMs a bad name you ASS HAT

You sound like those whiny kpop losers who complain BTS has privilege and connections and power and their lame loser favs don't- as if power and connections are things you throw on people's laps.

If Hard work is all it takes BTS WOULD HAVE SEVERAL GRAMMYS YOU DUMBASS.

And the fact you out here farting yourself in the name of Park Jimin irks me so much. Here's the truth you want so bad, YOU SUCK. And you making Jimin out to be pathetic too damn.

Now I know it's not Park Jimin you out here acting like he's inferior and a victim and a loser who needs the bar to be lowered and for people to choose him love him play fair and nice before he can win. Child THE AUDACITY.

YOU DON'T THINK DO YOU??

I know he's not the one you fucking dragging through the mud indirectly with these brain dead waste of breathe rants.

PLEASE STOP JIMIN DON'T NEED A FAN LIKE YOU.

YOU ARE EMBARRASSING HIM.

The nerve and audacity for you to even compare him to- WELL ANY ONE I'M ABOUT TO PUT HANDS ON YOU FOR THAT.

I WILL SMACK THE SHIT OUT OF YOU FOR THIS FOR REAL.

It's the lack of intelligence and you not taking a hint and you not knowing when to stop- FUCK IT LET'S GET NASTY THEN.

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU AND I IS I CAN'T PUT ANY ONE ON A PEDESTAL ABOVE PARK JIMIN ENOUGH TO VICTIMIZE HIM THE WAY YOU DO.

HE'S IN A LEAGUE OF HIS OWN PLEASE LEAVE HIM ALONE HE IS NOT COMPETING WITH NO FUCKING ONE

HAVE SOME FUCKING CLASS AND TACT

OR GO OVER THERE WHERE THE OTHER PJMs OF YOUR CALIBRE ARE

IF JIMIN SEES THIS HE WILL THROW UP AND I'M GONNA WIPE HIS VOMIT WITH YOUR FACE YOU RAGGEDY ASS

NEVER EVER EVOOOOORRR COMPARE PARK BIG DADDY JIMIN TO ANY ONE LET ALONE HIS SWEET HEART

NO ONE IS ON HIS LEVEL AND NO ONE WILL EVER BE.

ALSO JIKOOK ARE A FUCKING POWER COUPLE THE FUCK!

IF JUNGKOOK'S POWER MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE

GO SIT OVER THERE