#stolen from main blog

[hl-obsessed]

thank you sooooo much @cinary for the tag! 💕🫶🏻 i love this game 🤩 (i'm @gwaine-lover but i'm stealing this here, on my side blog, coz i'm sure here are some people that will enjoy this SO much)

tagging: @enchantedlandcoffee @theeliampayne @doesntmeanitsmeaningless @savebylou @yourslarry @smita97 @thechavier @louiswilliamtomlinsons @moon-sun-thyme @lebesyej and anyone else who wants to do this 🫶🏻 tell me what fun things you have 🤩🫶🏻💕

[sinnettini]

the REAL tragedy of having my phone stolen is that i'm gonna have to rebuild my meme folder from scratch 😔😔😔😔

[kakusu-shipping]

btw not to be annoying but I'm in a huge drawing rut right now and almost everything I've made the past few weeks feels like garbo to me so if anyone has any X Reader requests from medias on my F/O list you want done, now would be a great time to send them in

[mahasenelkhatib]

Do you know what happens when I hear the bombing and live under it, with everywhere around me collapsing? I have nothing but ..

my notebook and pen, 🎨

and I isolate my mind. I don't want to be afraid, I don't want to feel what's around me, I want to escape to my old world! PLEASE DONATE HERE

Here is a Happy moment for me in this war when I was able to get chard leaves for the first time in this famine we face every day Verified by @90-ghosthere Olive Branch, line 508 of their spreadsheet Thank you all for the Love ,Support,Donations you send me !! I won't ever forget it! Ever!!

Hello, I am Mahasen,a Digital Artist from North Gaza, where creativity thrives despite challenges. My father passed away, making me the main provider for my family.

Before the war, I worked in motion graphics with international companies, specializing in character design and storyboarding.

The conflict forced us to evacuate repeatedly, and our home was damaged. My essential art equipment and tablet were stolen and destroyed, representing years of hard work and creativity. Now, we are homeless, unsafe, sick, and financially insecure.

Our family includes:

My mother, 62.

My sister Mai, 35, visually impaired.

Myself, Mahasen, 31.

My brother Mohammed, 28, visually impaired, and his wife Iman, 28.

My youngest brother Amin, 21.

Your support is crucial to help me rebuild and ensure my family's safety and survival. Your contribution will replace my tools and restore our hope and creativity.

My Socials: @MahasenAlkhatib Instagram here X here Facebook here My Main Post here

Please Help me Share AND Donate

@90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @ibtisams @acepumpkinpatrick @just-browsing1222 @gaza @palestine @13ag21k @the-bastard-king @boyvandal-blog @apsswan @youdontknowwhotfiamm @mangocheesecakes @fallahifag @sealuai @palipunk @malcriaada @occupationsurfer @northgazaupdates @nabulsi @elierlick @evelyn-art-05 @soon-palestine @fairuzfan @bibyebae @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @sayruq @sar-soor @90-ghost @vakarians-babe @northgazaupdates @helppeople @ibtisams @appsa @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka @marnota @el-shab-hussein @sayruq @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @vivisection-gf @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @ibtisams @animentality @kordeliiius @communistchilchuck @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @the-bastard-king @tamarrud @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates @90-ghost @skatehani @awetistic-things @gentl3manly @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @morallyrainyday @pcktknife @tamamita @plasticdodecagon

[rosegarden-society]

Nabbed a jacket the other day that is 100% Hunter’s style

Hunter fit check when-

[piecedpiratesmoved]

"I know it was wrong but never said I was sorry."

[aromantic-pantyanarchy]

It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.

I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.

I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.

I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)

I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.

[suppermariobroth]

In Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door, Mario's body is stolen in Chapter 4. Despite Mario being able to obtain and use the W Emblem badge by that point in the game, which changes the color scheme of his clothes to match Wario's, the enemy who steals his body appears as the regular Mario with his red shirt and blue overalls in the original GameCube version of the game.

This was fixed in the Nintendo Switch version, whereby not only the enemy actually matches how Mario looked prior to his body being stolen, but also dialogue from certain NPCs that describes Mario's regular clothes changes in this scenario to describe Wario's clothes.

Note that there is no way to obtain the L Emblem badge at that point in the game, so no dialogue of this kind was implemented for describing Luigi's or Waluigi's clothes.

Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source

[sim-berry]

I'm Tired.

I totally get why many simblrs don't want to name and shame and want to avoid drama, but I'm not one of those simblrs. If I see some bs I'm going to call it out. I only have a few followers (who are lovely and sweet) anyway, so it's not like I'll get a crusade against me. So that's exactly what I'm gonna do, because I'm pissed right now.

I know I don't have a big blog so it's unlikely many will see this, but if you do, please reblog it. Spread the word about creators who have stolen content so that people can stop downloading their cc and supporting them.

One of my favorite creators, Toys of Dukeness, has just deleted all their poses from Patreon and stated that they are leaving the Sims community. Their poses have been STOLEN by other "creators" who have locked them behind paywalls. Keep in mind Toys gives their poses out FOR FREE and they've been STOLEN and put behind paywalls! They're making money off of shit that isn't even theirs! How disgusting is that?? And now they don't even feel welcome in the community that they've given so much to.

And it's funny because I just saw a post from the amazing @simmireen (who makes many of my favorite poses) calling out THE SAME CREATOR for stealing their poses!! Simmireen's poses are stunning and she is kind enough to give them out for free, and she's had her hard work ripped off by an early access paywaller. The same one who drove Toys out of this community: simsulani.

This is a screenshot taken from Toys of Dukeness's post (read the whole thing here) that specifically calls out two of the thieves:

If this keeps happening, more of our wonderful cc creators are going to leave simblr. And I don't blame them one bit. Why put hours, sometimes days, of work into creating content when it's just going to be stolen and profited off of by someone else?

And when those creators do eventually leave, do you know what we'll be left with? Scummy perma-paywallers and early access creators who use minority groups to make money. (As a member of the LGBT I can't tell you how fucking sick I am of seeing "Pride Month Collection- Available to the public on June 30th🥰")

We can't let that happen. We need to support and show love to the creators who allow us to have beautiful cc and amazing poses in our games. I can tell you right now my stories would be nothing without simmireen's and Toys' poses. And they aren't the only creators who have had their cc stolen. We're on here about AI stealing art all the time (which is a totally valid argument, don't get me wrong), meanwhile actual humans, fellow simmers, are stealing content right under our noses, right this moment.

I am TIRED of this. Our content creators are being driven off this site and out of the community entirely because their work is being stolen. Storytellers, including myself, have also had their storylines stolen. I once saw someone take my entire NSB Gen 2 storyline, with even the quotes being copied and pasted! If you don't have creativity, then don't make content, that's okay. What's not okay is STEALING from people who have worked hard on their craft, ESPECIALLY if you're making money off of the stuff you stole.

Again, please reblog if you can. And feel free to share some REPUTABLE creators so simmers know who to download from rather than the thieves. They're the ones who need to be driven out, not the hardworking creators. And anyone who is afraid to vent about this on main can come into my anon and rant all they want. We as a community need to stop this.

-Coco xoxo

[hellishjoel]

a visu videre (a sight to see)

4k / pairing: general marcus acacius x lucilla acacius x f!personal attendant

main masterlist | notifications blog

summary: Before Marcus leaves to lead his army to a distant province, he teaches you how to please his wife, Lucilla, while he’s away - and sees what you’ve learned upon his return. 

warnings/information:  MA 18+ (minors DNI), porn without plot, threesome (fmf), swearing, size kink, free use, spanking, rough sex, praise & degradation kink with accompanied dirty talk, pet names (marcus uses sweet girl, lucilla uses darling girl), oral (f!receiving), fingering, overstim (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, spitting in the mouth is romantic, inexperienced/virgin!reader, unprotected p in v, reader is described having hair and wears a stola, but otherwise (I believe) no physical description, no use of y/n

A/N:  I'm very thankful to @pedgito and her writing of Marcus in little dove! I'm usually a bit hesitant to write new characters whose lore I know literally nothing about, but we all saw those vanity fair exclusives, how could I not! thank you Ali for the encouragement and honoring "fuck it we ball" - graphics made by @saradika-graphics!

You have never lived as a free woman, not until beginning your servitude to General Marcus Acacius and his wife, Lucilla.

Averse to owning slaves, they filled their home with paid servants. From domestics to weapons and armorers, the high-profile family required additional hands.

Their home in the city, a magnificent testament to the General’s success and high status, was a reflection of the family’s opulent wealth and esteemed social standing. Their domus in the city of Rome was a sight to behold, and as a personal attendant, you were entrusted with knowing every nook and cranny. 

From the preference of their foods to their nightly desires, it was your duty to fulfill.

After serving their every need, you could not help but fall in love with the pair who had gifted you a life of freedom and happiness. 

The attraction was immediate despite it feeling forbidden. It was gentle gestures at first. 

After serving a meal to the General in his study, his rough hand felt over the material of your stola, a simple dress in his family’s colors - gold to symbolize his wealth and power, lined with purple to show the high status of his military success. 

“Beautiful,” he muttered in his stolen raspy voice, his eyes gleaming as he took in your figure the belt around your waist provided. 

You felt the warmth of his hand further into the night, allowing you to sit upon his desk as his fingers and mouth worked you to a flourishing orgasm. His fingers were thick, leaving a painful turned pleasure-inducing ache that you didn’t even know was possible. 

“Your cunt is perfect,” he hummed out as he aided you onto his lap in the afterglow, allowing you to curl into his broad chest and strong shoulders. 

The guilt sat deep in your stomach, using you for his pleasure while his wife was just down the hall. 

“Dominus, what of your wife? Will she not be upset?”

Marcus ran his fingers across the sweet skin of your cheek, staring into your innocent eyes. “You will keep my wife company while I lead our army to a distant province. I trust you to pleasure her as I have taught you.” 

You didn’t believe him, not until you were helping Lady Lucilla undress after a long day. She was missing her husband. The long days without him were torturous. Her eyes began to lust over as you bathed her, running a natural sponge and Egyptian cucumber along her skin. 

“Your hands, they are so soft,” she praised, gently clasping her hand in yours. 

Your smile was shy, and your lips slowly parted as she dragged your hand below the bath water, feeling over her bosoms. “Thank you, Matrona,” you whispered breathlessly as she squeezed your hand around her breasts, watching in awe as the simple gesture caused her eyes to fall closed in euphoria. 

You cannot deny you haven’t thought of her beauty. The General and his wife are both undeniably attractive, allure dancing over their skin like little stars. 

After her invitation to join her in the bath, you used what the General taught you with his fingers. It was a little clumsy at first, but she was patient and guided you to where she needed you to be. You gasped as you felt her cunt spasm around your fingers as her body slipped deeper into yours, her head falling onto your shoulder as she gave sweet kisses to your pulse point. 

She insisted she return you the favor the very next night. You laid in their silky sheets and melted in her hold under the candlelight. 

They were perfect opposites; Marcus was strong and rough, whereas Lucilla was gentle and tender. 

You were a guest in her chamber nearly every night the General was gone and stayed until the early morning light. Lucilla would spoon your body against hers, your interlocked fingers resting over your naked body. 

Soon, there was no guilt, only mutual pining. Love swarmed all three of you into a buzz, despite the General away on duty. 

He sends letters to you both, dirty promises he intended to keep upon his return. You made love together in Marcus’ name, while Lucilla affirmed that you had a place in their relationship and nothing would change. 

You both ached in wait for him, an ache that was only soothed by your nights together. And if you were truthful, you liked being used by them. Filling the void of the other on long, lonely nights. 

Day and night, you were hers to use as she pleased.

One night as you cooked her dinner, Lucilla entered the culina and pushed your stola over the curve of your ass. She kneeled and made out with your cunt as you shook in her hold, still attempting to finish her soup. 

“M-My Lady, here?” You squeaked, feeling her palms knead into your ass, feeling the sting of her nails as she took what she needed from you. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you, of your taste,” she whispered before continuing. 

Marcus' arrival was due any day now, only amping up your and Lucilla’s wild imaginations. 

“He’ll be ravenous,” she whispers, fingers intertwined in your hair as you explicitly slurp up her arousal. “Lords,” she gasps, jaw dropping as her head shoots up to watch you eat her pussy in their bed, “please, do that again,” she begs. 

You mimic the small ministration again, curling your fingers deep inside her cunt, feeling her walls pulse with need. 

“My Lady, he will not be able to take his eyes off you.”

“Or you.” She cooes, moaning out your name with little regard to volume. 

The amount of times you’ve prayed to feel Marcus in the intimate ways that Lucilla has is unimaginable. You’ve never felt the feeling of his cock, but Lucilla has described it to you in a way of preparation. 

“We’ll make sure you’re amply wet. It will hurt, but only for a moment, my darling girl.” 

You moan against her cunt, feeling your arousal begin to soak the sheets. 

Heavy boots thud down the hallway, but the both of you are too lost in the pleasure of one another to notice - not even when the door opens. 

“A sight to see.” 

It’s the return of Marcus, both of you gasping - Lucilla’s of excitement and yours of feeling caught. 

Despite Marcus assuring your match, you were still nervous to see him. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to return tonight with your tongue on his wife’s pussy. 

“Meus amor,” Lucilla moaned to Marcus, stroking your hair as you both sat up.  Marcus was still in his armor, a brilliant metal chest plate with Medusa coursing through the front with long hair of slithering snakes sprialing out across the extent of it. 

Lucilla moves to his side, bare naked, her body curving around his own as she holds him in her arms. 

“Lords, have we missed you,” she praises as Marcus’ hand fell low to cup her ass in his large palm. 

“My beautiful wife.” He whispers, kissing her slowly. 

They both turn to you, and you feel the burning sensation that you should leave and allow them to resume their love in peace. Instead, Marcus opens his other arm to you. 

“Let me see you, pretty girl. Come here,” he commands. You fill into the space of his side, all three of you hugging as his hands take claim of both Lucilla and your ass. 

“You’ve taken care of her like I asked?” You’re shocked to see his question is to Lucilla who proudly smiles. 

“She’s been nothing but an angel. She should be nice and ready for you, my love.” Lucilla whispers as she leans up and slowly kisses her husband. Your eyes soften as you watch, laying your head against his shoulder, your warm cheek against his cold armor. It’s a nice contrast compared to the warmth in the room. 

Marcus hums as he deepens the kiss with his wife, watching his tongue slip into her mouth as his fingers slip between her ass and move downward to the slick of her pussy. 

A moment passes and he breaks the kiss, turning to you now and leaning in. 

You’ve never shared a kiss with him, but it’s like you imagined. He’s rougher than Lucilla, needier. Away at war and away from his lovers, his lust for you both pumps through his veins. The course hair of his mustache gristles against your lip, his arm locking you tighter against his hold as you allow him to lead. 

Lords, how can you miss something you’ve never even experienced? 

A gasp enters his mouth as he feels over your pussy, how gloriously wet you are for the both of them. 

“Get on the bed. Now.” 

Lucilla smirks at you and takes your hand in hers, guiding you to the bed. 

He begins to take off his armor, hearing the loud metal clatter to the floor as Lucilla kisses you with reimagined heat. Now that her husband has returned, she showers you with even more affection and praise. 

“How do you want us, Marcus?” Lucilla asks before she begins to kiss down your neck and to your breasts, leaving wet kisses on your nipples before beginning to circle your peaks with her tongue. 

Marcus watches with authority, his dark hair cast with speckles of silver as more and more of his body is shown to you for the first time. Lucilla seems to take notice, moving behind your body and adjusting your position on your knees to face Marcus at the edge of the bed. 

“He’s handsome, wouldn’t you agree?” She whispers into your ear as her hand slips down the front of your body, slowly beginning to make circles around your already twitching clit. You whine weakly, to which Marcus smirks. 

He sheds his undergarments, seeing his tan skin and body littered with old battle scars. 

“You are unscathed? You are not hurt?” You whisper out of care, Marcus cooing softly as he comes closer and cups your cheek in his large hand. You allow the weight of your head into his protective hand, large eyes watching as he coddles you. 

“I’m unhurt, sweet girl. Do you like how Lucilla touches you?” He asks as he strips out of his last garment, your eyes landing on his hard cock that angrily knocks against his lower stomach. The hair around his cock is dark, and all you wish to do is make it sopping wet. 

At the sound of her own name, Lucilla speeds up her touches. You whimper out, your body shuddering into hers as she holds you tight and upright. 

“The General has asked you a question, my dear,” Lucilla encourages. This only probes a faster speed of her fingers and the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter. 

“I-I love it, I love it,” you whisper as your head falls back onto her shoulder, Lucilla moaning softly into your ear as she grinds herself against your bare ass for any bit of friction she can get. 

“I think we should allow Marcus to have his way with us. Would you agree, my love?” She whispers to you, her other hand beginning to tweak and pinch at your nipples, only causing you to grow wetter. 

“Fuck,” Marcus admires, “she’s so prone to your touch, Lucilla. You’ve done good.” He praises his wife, only causing her body to shudder against yours. 

“Take us,” you gasp out, desperate eyes meeting his own, “please.” 

Marcus positions you as he pleases, laying you on top of Lucilla and hiking both of you to the edge of the mattress. Your ass lies over hers, your pussies perfectly lined up as Lucilla is pitched up onto her knees and resting her forearms against the bed. 

“First touch for my wife,” Marcus says as he begins to line his tip to her entrance. 

Lucilla twitches at the touch but ultimately shakes her head. 

“Allow it to her, my love. She’s never felt the touch of a man before, and I want her to feel you for the very first time. She’s waited for so long. I want to feel her cum slide down onto my cunt.” 

The couple is so giving, allowing only for a most powerful match in the bedroom where everyone wins. 

“As you wish.” Marcus manhandles your ass above Lucilla, stroking a hand down your lower back and playing with your hair. That is until he fists the ends and cocks your head upright. You hold a breath as your breasts stick to Lucilla’s warm back, feeling his tip prod against your entrance. 

And you’re reminded that Marcus is to take what he wants. 

In one swift thrust, he fills you to the brim. A cry is strangled from the depths of your throat, feeling Marcus pull your hair tighter in his hold. 

“Oh, Gods, holy hell,” you whimper as he groans. Your entire body feels like it is on pins and needles, Lucilla moaning with you as Marcus massages your ass in his greedy hands. 

“Been too fuckin’ long without my girls,” he grunts as he grinds himself into your ass, feeling both you and Lucilla shuffle with his movements. The coarse hair around his cock tickles your clit, Lucilla feeling you jerk at the sensitivity. 

“How do you feel, darling?” Lucilla whispers, turning her head and capturing your distracted lips. 

It’s impossible to string words together, the coursing thump of your walls against his protruding cock was enough to leave you mute in pleasure. 

Your gasp enters the room as Marcus strikes his hand down onto your ass, quick to massage the plush flesh under his hold. He was so different from his wife, but this pleasure of rough desperation sprouted a new flood of arousal to gush around his member. 

“My wife asked you a question,” he pants, keeping himself stationary inside you until you answer. 

“Give her a moment, my love, she’s never felt a cock before.” Lucilla coos as she reaches back around both of your hips, her hand a soothing one compared to the burning print on your other cheek. 

“I-I feel,” you gulp, panting weakly into Lucilla’s ear, “I fear I like it when he n-needs me,” you whisper, to which they both smirk wider. 

“Did you hear that Marcus? She likes being a little whore to your cock.”

Marcus hums appreciatively, the rough hand stroking your ass going to squeeze what was his once more. 

“Knew she’d be a good girl for us.” Marcus reels back his hips, your jaw dropping at the feeling that damn near burns - but you now see what Lucilla was speaking of on your nights together. 

His cock is thick and large, swollen inside of you that allows you to feel every inch of him as he claims your cunt to be his. The ache of being gaping open for him begins to glimmer into pleasure, sweat beginning to coat your body as he quickens his hips over and over again. 

It rocks you deeper into Lucilla, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She moans with you in unison; your pleasure hers, her pleasure yours, and both of your pleasures are Marcus’. 

He begins to groan obscenities to you both as he pushes you to the edge, your fists clenching the bed sheets as pleasure overcomes you. 

“Gods, this cunt is so goddamn tight, breaking this pussy in, makin’ it the shape of my cock,” he grunts as he begins to pound into you at a relentless pace, causing your screams and cries of pleasure to echo through his chamber. 

“This pussy is all ours, right sweet girl?” He hums as he stuffs you full once more, your shaky breaths against Lucilla’s shoulder leaving you breathless. 

“Y-Yes, sir, thank you, thank you,” you pant, all of a sudden falling a bit limp over Lucilla as he eventually slips his cock from your pussy, down to his wife. 

It’s as if life is shot through her body, holding you up with ease as all of her muscles are alerted as his cock spears through her entrance. 

“Christ,” She moans, smirking as her eyes fall close. 

Marcus hums approvingly, beginning to hump into her and watching in delight as your ass slaps against his abdomen with each thrust. 

“Feels so good to be back inside my home, my temple,” he worships her endlessly, holding her hips below yours and keeping her spread and steady. 

“Holy hell,” Lucilla cries out, feeling every single nerve in her body twitch at the feeling of her husband being inside of her once more. 

You bravely turn your head and look over your shoulder, in awe of the sight before you. Marcus’ muscles are all outlined and strong, his arms bulging as you marvel at the thick veins coursing up his forearm. The lewd smacks of your asses against his front are damn near enough to get you off. 

He smirks as he stares at you, only fucking his wife harder and faster. Almost in a look of permission, you bring your fingers up to your mouth and slip them in, suckling around each of your fingers until they are nice and wet. 

With his nod, you reach around Lucilla and begin to circle her clit. She lets out a shocked moan, her eyes widening as you and Marcus work in unison to get her off. Your lips messily meet, your kisses rocked by his thrusts as you begin to circle her faster and faster. 

“That’s it, please, yes!” She cries out, shaking and crumbling before you as she comes down Marcus' length. 

“Don’t stop touchin’ her,” He barks. 

Though he halts his thrusts, your fingers continue over her spasming pearl. She cries out your name and continues to twitch below you, shaking weakly as she comes a second time. You feel the stickiness against your fingers, and you greedily take them in your mouth, moaning softly at the sweet taste. 

“Fuck,” Lucilla whispers as Marcus releases his hold on her and slips out, his cock still hard as a rock and resting against his stomach. 

You both tumble onto the bed, your smile wide as you watch her come down from her euphoric orgasm. 

“She… she hasn’t come yet, Marcus.” Lucilla weakly whispers, crawling up the bed as both you and Marcus share a look. 

“You want me to finish her, my love?” 

Lucilla hums and nods, crawling up to the pillows as she lounges casually, eyes lust over as she watches. 

“You owe her for the many nights she served me. Make her feel as good as you make me feel.” 

Lucilla notes the uncertainty in your face, cooing softly as she strokes her fingers over your face reassuringly. “I want you to have him. It would make me the happiest. Believe me, darling girl.”

Lucilla lays you back in front of the towering Marcus, his eyes raking over your body in a way that makes you nervous. Then he begins to stroke over his messy cock, slick in both of your arousal and his wife’s come. 

“Lie with me?” You ask her weakly. Lucilla and Marcus share a look, to which he shakes his head. 

Lucilla smiles tiredly and kisses your lips softly, one of love and care. “Let him take you fully for the first time. I want to watch him have his way with you.” 

With her encouragement, you face Marcus who steps between your spread legs. Now that it’s just you two, it’s intimidating the way he stares down at you. Stern eyes cast over with desperation, his cock hard and ready to come. 

But he’s more intimate this time, his body caging you in as he leans over you and hovers his face over yours. You nip at your lower lip as his tip nudges against your entrance, nodding softly as your eyes meet his.

He’s slower this time, groaning as your pussy surrounds him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he rocks his hips, feeling them maliciously snap the entirety of his length into you. “Been fantasizing about this, bein’ the first to feel this pussy.”

You nod again and gently cup his cheeks, watching as his eyes soften and stare down at you. Something primal seems to take over; taking you has made him protective, maybe even in a way that claims you. 

You’re his, hers, theirs. 

He takes in each cry you let out as he begins to pound into you repeatedly, your chest swelling as he trails kisses down your neck, suckling each of your nipples into his mouth. Fisting the sheets grounds you, but you note the loss of his focus. You return your hands to his face and he’s there again, fucking you like he owns you, like he loves you. 

And maybe he does. Maybe he loves you like Lucilla does. But it would take more time to chip away at this soldier’s heart. But to be given the chance is something notable. 

His aquiline nose nudges against yours, damn near growling as you lean up and pepper kisses down his jawline and along the coarse hair of his beard. 

“Lucilla wrote how good you feel- fuck, she was right,” he forces out, hearing his voice strangle around his words. He’s close. 

His thumb moves to your clit, ensuring you both finish together. You whimper at the electric contact, gasping as your lips brush against his own. He circles your clit faster, and his hips become more erratic with desperation. 

“Finish inside her, meus amor,” Lucilla encourages, but you’re not sure how that feels. 

Heat slips down your spine as Marcus seems to find a special spot that makes your stomach drop, moaning out for him to please you. 

“I want to feel you, p-please, this feels too good,” you whisper to him, your whines on repeat with each thrust he gives you. 

“Fuck,” he groans out, “you first,” he insists, circling your clit faster faster faster and finally, you come around his cock. Your walls pulse around him, feeling your white cream coat his throbbing cock. 

You fall limp in his hold, your pearl twitching as you feel the aftershocks of your orgasm. It feels so much different with a man; you’re not sure if you love one more than the other, or maybe you love them equally. 

Marcus, in the high of chasing his own orgasm after yours, moves his arms under your body, his hands bracing the top of your shoulders. With this hold, he locks you into place, and it allows him to plow into you unrelentingly. 

“Fuck,” You cry out, feeling every inch of him over and over and over again. You reach blindly up the bed, your fingers extended as Lucilla takes your hand. 

Marcus feverishly kisses you, deep and with need as his tongue slips into your mouth and lines his own with yours. He pulls away but only for a second, spitting into your open mouth before chasing your lips once more. 

In one, two, three more thrusts, he stalls inside of you. A groan enters your mouth as his warmth paints your walls and you feel each spurt as he finishes deep inside your cunt. He groans your name, watching as his face contorts in pleasure.  

All three of you fall into bed together, panting with all energy drained, eyes closed, basking in your shared pleasure. 

That feeling comes over you again as Marcus moves up the bed, lazily kissing his wife and feeling over her skin. 

“Missed you.” He whispers to her. 

You move to stand, your shaky legs nearly giving out beneath you as you collect your clothes scattered on the floor. 

“Where are you going?” They ask in unison, concern lacing over their features. 

“I,” you start weakly, looking between them. “I thought I should return your marital bed. I haven’t slept in mine in ages.” You whisper with a smile. “Really, I insist.”

“Get back in this bed.” Marcus commands, wrapping his arm around his wife who is curled into his side. 

“Please.” Lucilla insists, reaching her hand across Marcus’ chest and keeping it open for you. 

You graciously smile and pad over to the open space on Marcus’ other side, slowly filling in and relaxing in their embrace. 

Lucilla shares a kiss with you as Marcus cradles the back of both of your heads, smiling tiredly as you sigh into her mouth. 

“My girls.” He praises, both you and Lucilla leaning in and sharing a kiss between all three of you. 

main masterlist | notifications blog

[mikashisus]

i really REALLY wanted to avoid serious talks on my blog, and i wanted to avoid making this private matter public, but i am left with no choice.

my kinich smau “get him back” has been plagiarized. the main plotline, which follows the life of the mc, is based off my own experiences this past year in university. the other main plotline follows mualani as she struggles to get over her ex, kinich, and attempts to maintain a stable relationship with the mc, who is her best friend.

user @/he4rted has not only stolen my plotline and labeled it as “inspiration,” but has blatantly lied to my face when i cordially confronted her about the matter in private. i kindly asked her to take the fic down, as it is a direct copy of my own, but she has refused. hence, the point of this post. i have provided evidence below to the copies of my work, as well as our messages.

our messages:

her work, side by side with the plot she stole from my work:

i am EXTREMELY uncomfortable, not only because i have had my work stolen, but also because “get him back” is very personal to me. as i said before, i have directly based it off of my own experiences, and for that reason, this has affected me greatly. not only that, but this is my work that i have spent countless hours on.

i originally posted this smau on september 12th, 2024. she posted the copied work on her account on january 12th, 2025. i have listed proof below.

exactly 4 months apart:

i was not made aware of this situation until yesterday.

after looking through her accounts, i realized this may not be the first time she has stolen from others. not only that, but her final response in our messages insinuates that she has copied others before and altered their plots to make it seem like it is just simple inspiration.

please DO NOT send her hate of any kind. just a simple report and block will do. i advise looking through her accounts for yourself, as well.

again, i really hate to make this public as i prefer to settle matters privately, but since i have been refused of my request to have the fic taken down and i have been blatantly lied to, my hand has been forced. i will not sit here and allow my work to be stolen from me.

plagiarism is NOT okay.

[mysticalmallard]

Stolen Moments

Description: a small collection of moments Chibbs shares with his love

Warnings: nothing just fluffy moments

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld @youngadult9016 @meera10

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

♡ SoA Masterlist ♥︎ Main Masterlist ♡

It was a cool morning as the sun was setting, and Chibs woke with a smile. His girlfriend lay next to him, still sound asleep, her head resting on his bare chest and her hair flowing over him. He chuckled to himself as he felt her arms subconsciously pull him in tighter, as she snuggled closer into his warmth. He lay there quietly for a moment, listening to the sound of her soft breaths before he gently stroked her hair, waking her tenderly.

Her eyes slowly blink open, her tired smile immediately brightening as she looks up at him. "Mornin', handsome," she mumbles, her voice still groggy with sleep.

Chibs chuckles, his fingers gently sweeping a strand of hair from her face, "Good morning, sunshine. Slept well?"

Chibs and his girlfriend were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast together. He stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, as she poured the pancake mixture into the pan. He nuzzled his face into her neck, gently kissing her skin, making her laugh. "Chibs, you're distracting me," she scolded playfully as she tried to focus on cooking. Chibs just chuckled and spun her around to face him, pulling her in for a lingering kiss.

Chibs sat in the back room of the club, away from the rowdy chatter of the other members. He pulled out his phone, dialing her number with a soft smile on his face. The phone rang a few times before she answered, her voice warm and familiar.

"Hey, baby," he greeted, his voice quiet, "Just wanted to hear your voice."

"Aww, I was just thinking about you," she replied, her voice melodic and sweet.

Chibs leaned back against the wall, a sense of peace washing over him as they talked. "How's your day been?" he asked, his fingers absently tracing patterns on the tabletop.

"Oh, you know, just the usual stuff. Work, errands..."

Chibs could hear the sound of her rummaging through her purse in the background. He chuckled. "Always so busy," he teased, a hint of longing in his voice.

Chibs and his girlfriend were sitting on the couch together, watching a movie. She was cuddled up against him, her head resting on his chest, as he wrapped an arm around her, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her arm. She looked up at him, a sly grin on her face. "You're not paying attention to the movie," she teased.

Chibs chuckled, his gaze fixed on her. "Can you blame me? You're a lot more interesting than some movie."

Chibs was in the clubhouse, doing some paperwork in the corner. It had been a slow day, and he was getting slightly restless. Suddenly, the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Looking up, he saw his girlfriend walk in, her smile immediately lighting up the room.

Chibs stood up instantly, his paperwork forgotten, and strode over to her. Pulling her into a tight embrace, he buried his face into her hair, inhaling her scent. "You're a sight for sore eyes," he murmured into her ear.

"I thought I'd surprise you, sorry if it is a bad time" she replied, her voice warm and fond.

Chibs pulled back slightly, cradling her face in his hands, his eyes filled with affection. "Love, you have no idea how good it is to see you," he said, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks.

[mournthebird]

‼ Previously @/collaredsoldat ‼

Blythe , 24 , she/they , writer , Soldat's handler.

Sideblog from my main embbarnes. I interact/follow from my main.

This blog will contain darker themes surrounding Bucky/Winter Soldier. Themes include HTP, ranging from Post!HTP to active HTP. My work will explore these themes. Do not follow if the tags regarding HTP or DD:DNE bother you.

This blog is strictly an 18+ blog. Do not interact with my blog if you are not over the age of 18, I will block you if you are a minor. Ageless blogs will be blocked, you must have your age in your bio or a pinned post.

Recent Works: Cold Metal | Shower Suds | Silver and Garnet | Condition | Gentle Hand | Stained | Apricot Toast

My writing can be found under the tag blythewrites⛓

I focus on hurt/recovery the majority of the time, to help with my own trauma and because that is a topic I like to write with his character.

I will possibly write NSFW, but I tend to lean towards recovery/comfort fics with him still in the era of WS or CW. My main blog has more 'normal' fics with Bucky if that's your speed.

This blog is a safe space for everyone. I will not tolerate hateful asks or comments of any kind. Any asks I get that are hateful will be ignored and any hateful comments will be deleted.

All of my writing and works are not to be copied, reposted, modified, etc. I only post my stuff on this blog or any of my listed blogs and if you see my stuff anywhere besides my blogs, then it is stolen. However, inspiration with credit is okay.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics & @/chachachannah

[unlosts]

goldrush

1.5k words. Based on some posts on @hotchfiles blog about Hotchs wedding ring 🫶

F. Scott Fitzgerald — 'There is a moment—Oh, just before the first kiss, a whispered word—something that makes it worth while.'

Small town motels begin to feel familiar after a while. Even the outdated 70s wallpaper and smoked tinted walls start to blur with the newly renovated minimalist gray walls of the latest chain hotel they’re staying in. 

After ten hours of bureaucratic red tape, hostile locals and hysterical families, the  paper thin mattresses and the softest of egyptian cotton sheets all end up in the same exhausted insomnia. 

And it is in that blur of sameness that you find yourself pressed against the sheets of Hotc - sorry, Aarons bed. 

Your very stoic, very married boss. 

It started in this quaint farmhouse turned B&B somewhere tucked away in Maine, the blood splattered crime scene photos getting lost amongst the garish floral bedspread. 

As strict and unyielding as Hotch was in the day to day you knew his biggest secret; an almost full pack of Marlboro reds tucked away in the smallest pocket of his go-bag accompanied by a baby blue bic lighter stolen from you. Reserved for special occasions, such as a week-long case in the middle of the winter with no end in sight. 

It was on night four that you went to his room to get your lighter back - and possibly to bum a cigarette as well. Light footsteps on the creaking wood, you tiptoed over as if you knew how it would end. 

Before you could even knock the door opened and there he was, stripped of his jacket and tie but still working at midnight, his starched white shirt rumpled from hours sitting at the rickety chair in the room. 

“Hi, wasn’t expecting anyone right now,” he said awkwardly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. His eyes firmly planted on yours and not on your very bare legs, covered by blue striped pajama shorts and a faded concert t-shirt.  

“Well, I would be more shocked if you were” you replied with a laugh, crossing your arms against the midnight chill and leaning against the frame of his door “hey listen I’m on a rescue mission here, I know your pack of smokes is more of a ‘in case of emergency bring out the cancer sticks’ sort of deal but my very favorite lighter is sequestered with them and I’ve gone through two packs without it so can I have it back? and also maybe one of your cigs?” you added that last part with a very convincing smile.  

“Right! yes, come on in” Hotch said as he stepped aside so you could come into his room. The pink wallpaper covered floor to ceiling in paisley flowers. 

“Don’t mind the flowers, it seems like they’re multiplying but you get used to them”

“Oh I think that’s just your sleep deprivation speaking,  maybe I’m not even in this room”  As you walked in you took in his room, from the floral wallpaper and matching drapes to the blue fluffy carpet and dark wood furniture. 

“If I were to imagine you I think the last thing you would be doing is stealing my cigarettes” 

“Really? and what is it that I usually do in your imagination” You said, sitting down on his bed, moving around some files.   

He just let out a small laugh, his wedding ring twinkling like a warning sign in the lowlight. 

His laugh is boyish you think startled, a little high pitched at the end like it’s not used to making an appearance.

You try to picture him at your age, even before, early twenties fresh out of law school. His stride not as confident as it is now, less sure of his place in a courtroom than he is in a police precinct ordering around people he’s just met. 

While you were lost in thought he went to rummage through his bag, his usual meticulous order abandoned in favor of quick changes between cat naps and interrogations. 

His back turned, you can freely admire the solid line of his back, muscles stretched under his shirt, and it’s only ever really in these brief moments of solitude that you can admit to yourself that whatever is it that you feel goes well beyond a crush. 

Which is why you should leave, you should get up, tell him you changed your mind and go to your room, forget that you do have a full pack in your nightstand right next to the nice lighter you bought for yourself  a couple of weeks ago, you should… 

“Here” He says handing you the baby blue lighter and a loose cigarette. 

“What, you’re leaving me to smoke by myself?” 

“Like you said, these are ‘in case of emergency only’” 

“Well I think having to deal with Captain Rooney and detective whoever the fuck for almost a week straight constitutes as an emergency, think of them as medicinal cigarettes, kind of like the ones pregnant woman smoked in the 50’s” 

He laughs again, boyish and carefree and you tuck that sound away,  to let it play on a loop in your head later tonight. 

“One” Hotch says, holding up a finger “and then we’ll go to sleep, the last thing I need is you crashing the car because you were too tired to drive straight” 

“God, imagine the paperwork” You reply with a grin. Standing up and walking to the window next to the desk. You notice with a pang that he keeps a picture of Jack there, only a year old, chubby cheeks and thin blonde hair. 

“What are you doing?” He asks as he sees you sitting down on the window ledge. 

“Are you having a stroke? you just said I could smoke one” 

“I didn’t mean right here” Hotch says looking around, as if the crotchety old woman who checked you guys in would pop up from behind the curtains and kick you out for smoking indoors. 

“I cannot believe you’re afraid of a seventy year old retiree, yesterday you stared down that reporter so hard I thought he was going to start crying” You said lighting up and taking a drag  “besides, didn’t you go to boarding school or something? I bet there’s a whole slew of very scandalous stories hiding there” 

As you blow smoke out the window you see him standing there, hands in his pockets. His eyes don’t stray from yours but he’s not avoiding anything, he’s instead searching for something.

The silence stretches on for a few seconds as the smoke slowly billows up, a haze enveloping you both and you could almost pretend that there’s not a picture of Jack right next to you, or even, another picture next to his. Her name carefully and diligently scrubbed out of your thoughts.

Slowly he walks over and sits down right next to you, the fabric of his slacks burning a path on your thigh. Instead of lighting one of himself he takes yours from your hand. 

You see it then, on his left hand,  tarnished gold in the moonlight. And the moment breaks. 

“I think you guys think I was born wearing a tie” 

“Well no you were a baby, it would have been a bowtie” 

“Cute” You bite your lip to hold back a smile, resting your heated cheek in the cold window. 

“Hotch you collected stamps” 

“Coins, actually” You take the cigarette from him, your lips touching the same filter. 

“Oh my bad, they should have locked you up and thrown away the key then” 

“I collected coins, and also regularly snuck out to go to bars” 

At this revelation you do gasp “no! Aaron Hotchner underage drinking? And they let you in the FBI anyway?” 

“Okay, maybe I wasn’t a complete rebel in my youth but at the time it seemed like it, my parents were…strict and boarding school was their last ditch effort to straighten me out” 

“What got you sent to the slammer?” You asked with a quiet upturn of your lips. 

Before answering he looked at you, the light of the moon on the clearest sky you’ve seen yet turning you silver. 

“I kept picking fights” There was something more there but you let him keep that secret, one was enough for tonight. 

After that you finished what was left, the evidence discarded into the night. Yet neither of you moved. 

It was easy to think that you liked Hotch because he was handsome, or smart or even because he was the boss, but in truth when he looked at you it made you feel singularly important, like every stupid joke or straight thought was worth hearing. Even now in the stillness of the night with only your thoughts and the cicadas for company you felt like he knew everything worth knowing about you. 

“Well” you murmured “I should get going” 

“Yes” he replied in the same tone “you should.” 

And yet you stayed, looking at him. You were so close you could count his lashes, could almost touch the few strands of hair that had fallen forward. 

“Goodnight”  He whispered right before kissing you. 

Truly you could have been the one to kiss him, it was impossible knowing who leaned in first, like an asteroid colliding the path was inevitable, only a matter of time. 

Your hands softly cupped his neck as his went to your waist. It felt like you had been doing this for years, like he had been kissing you good morning and goodnight as long as you had known each other. As he leaned more into you, crowding you against the edge of the window seat your hands graced each others and that's when you felt it, hot as lava, his wedding ring a shock to your system making you push away. 

“fuck” This, again, could have been said by either of you. 

Hastily you got up, almost tripping with one of the decorative pillows left on the floor. 

“Anyway, really should get going, we’ll probably be dead on our feet unless we get some shuteye” You said as casually as you could when every place he had touched was still burning bright. 

“Right, of course” His expression was indiscernible, the only thing betraying his thoughts was his left hand, fingers softly touching the wedding band like a mantra. 

As you were leaving you turned back one last time, looking at him still encased in the pale silver light and he was looking back. 

[zuccnini]

☆ Shops: Etsy │Ko-fi

☆ Tips: Ko-Fi - All my new art is posted here first, any tip, commission or shop orders grant you access to that art early!

☆ Commissions: Ko-fi │ Etsy [ Commissions are open on a revolving basis I tend to only accept 2 commissions at a time, when those are complete I re-open them ]

Mini Painting [Pokemon] │ Mini Sculptures │Sketch/Watercolor

Other places to find me:

Twitter(inactive) │ IG (Inactive) │ Blusky │ Cara

Craft Blog @zuccninis │ Sketch Blog @squashni

Miscellaneous info below (Mediums, Contact, etc):

Mediums: I'm a traditional artist and my main medium is watercolor.

I'm not being paid to promote any specific brand, if your looking to start out use what is accessible and affordable to you! With that said here is what I use:

Watercolor: Renesans Half pans, Holbein watercolor tubes, Winsor & Newton Professional, and Daniel Smith Extra Fine Watercolor.

Watercolor inks: Dr. Ph Martins Radiant Concentrated watercolor and Ecoline Liquid Water Colour (These are why some of my watercolor pieces are so vibrant.)

Brushes: 0.5, 1 & 2 Foldable travel watercolor brushes, and those waterfilled brushes.

Paper: Fabriano Hot Pressed Watercolor paper, I usually bind these into my own books.

Other Mediums: Microns, Prismacolor Color Pencils, Posca Wax pastels, Paint markers, Tombow water based markers, Ballpoint pens, Acryla Gouache, and Crayola crayons.

If you are looking to get into watercolor my best advice is to invest in actual watercolor paper. For watercolor the most important thing is the paper, nice paper can make even crayola look beautiful. 300 Gsm is ideal.

For Mini Paintings:

Liquitex Acrylic Gouache and Golden SoFlat Acrylics

Mini Canvases (3x3in)

Mini Easels (5in)

Clear Gesso

Small paintbrushes, brand does not matter I tend to buy whatever is tiny and is a reasonable price. I use Synthetic brushes.

It should be noted that I do scan in all my artwork, I use a epson perfection v370, I've had this scanner for years and it works pretty well, you just need to mess around with the settings. I edit all my art in Clip Studio Paint to remove any lint or dust and to fix up colors.

[Traditional art can be pretty expensive so I recommend if your looking to try any medium to buy a little bit at a time and buy things piecemeal.]

Other Info:

Business Contact: zuccnini@gmail.com [Don't send me unsolicited trash]

If you wish to contact me for other matters most of my DM's are closed, Best places to contact me is Etsy for order issues, or Ko-Fi. (Don't ask me for my Discord that's for friends only.)

If You see my art getting reposted/re-uploaded, report it, the only accounts I post on are included above. Anywhere else I'm being impersonated. Please don't support low quality repost accounts that steal art from actual artists. Many times these accounts screw over actual artists since they love to monetize and sell stolen work.

I schedule posts on here on all my accounts! Schedule is Mon-Wed-Friday on Zuccnini, Bonus posts/Reblogs are Tues-Thurs and Saturday-Sunday.

Dont tag my OC / Original Character art with "pokemon" or any other fandom tags, This is NOT a pokemon blog this is my illustration blog.

As for Fanart: People are free to draw and commission art of my OCs, feel free to tag me in it! I do ask no nsfw without my permission.

That's most of the info I can think to include for this.

-

Extra-Curricular art:

[18+ Obviously]

nsfw twitter │ NSFW Bluesky

[orphiclovers]

'kim dokja would have kin tumblr' sure but you're missing the potential of real life fictional character Yoo Joonghyuk on kinblr at the same time. especially in a pre-scenario TWSA having world. unknowingly he saw a blog with his name and clicked on it.  kdj would be like 'no doubles' and yjh would be like '???' everyone would think they're two yjh kintypes from some obscure webnovel who are really really into it. they would have beef where yjh thinks his identity is being stolen and reports kdjs account. kdj would make more and they would continue sending each other deranged asks. sometimes kdj would do it in character as yjh. yjh would respond 'i do NOT sound like that' but to the outside world it just looks like hes in character responding too.

or like post-epilouge yjh making a reddit post on r/fictionkin like 'My [???M] boyfriend [???M] kins me. How do I deal with this?'

where the comments would at first be like 'factkinning is pretty controversial. talk to your boyfriend about having healthy boundaries.' but then yjh would respond 'I had to google this word. He wasn't 'factkinning.' I am a fictional character from a novel he read. I was the main character which he 'kinned' to cope with some pretty severe trauma he was going through at the time. I'm okay with it, I accepted it a long time ago.'

which causes confusion in the subreddit and people speculate that this is again two doubles dating and that yjh is more kinshifted than his partner. or 'op should be respectful of his partner having introjects of a character that they both clearly feel a deep connection to' since yjh mentioned kdj having trauma in another comment thread.

he gets really into defending his relationship on reddit. he has negative karma by the end of it.

hsy finds his account annd tells him that hes a freak and should get off the internet