#welp here you go guys

[autumnwhistles]

(still ft synthesised voice because round 2 of auditions for everyone are still going on and my voice isn't feeling great at the moment)

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Eldritch/not-entirely-human Grunkle Stan stories have been eating away at my brain, so I have a silly little concept of Mimic!Stan.

He and his Mystery Shack are both mimics that lure tourists in as a literal "tourist trap" to gather and devour them! Since the house is alive, it raises a few (read: several) child safety concerns that lead to a LOT of rules to be created for Dipper and Mabel to follow when they eventually arrive, such as:

Be careful not to get lost in the winding hallways! The Mystery Shack is bigger on the inside, and you don't want to end up in the wrong areas.

Don't go through randomly appearing doors, they may eat you.

If you think you feel the walls around you breathing and the floor beneath you shifting, no, you don't.

If you think the walls feel a bit damp, you're imagining it.

Watch your fingers around windowsills! You wouldn't want to lose any of them.

Don't linger too long under the doorframes; it may start feeling like they are slowly constricting around you.

[starburstminibot]

Hey I loved your explanation of breakdowns development with bumblebee! I was wondering what bumblebee was thinking at the same time though? Like while he was carrying??

I love this AU though!! It’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about! 😩😩💗

It wasn’t easy for Bee either lemme tell you…

Bumblebee has the capabilities of seeing good in everyone… and he is very aware of how vulnerable it can make him. He’s been manipulated before, he’s been taken advantage of due to his child-like optimism. He’s been… hardened to a degree because of it. He’s not a young naive scout anymore. He still likes to see the good, but he’s much more cautious of letting that blind him to the reality.

Except everything goes out the window when it comes to Breakdown.

Bumblebee doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because they were friends before the war, maybe it’s because despite everything Breakdown’s never really done anything to hurt him (at least intentionally)

Bumblebee is more aware than anyone how vulnerable he leaves himself by trusting Breakdown so wholeheartedly.

He knows how quickly Breakdown could give him a false tip and lure him right into a trap. And yet Bee would still take his words and trust them like the gospel.

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t value his life quite as much as he should. He doesn’t want to die… but he’s been in the trenches of a war far longer than he ever experienced living at peace (if that’s what you would call the civil unrest that was slowly tipping into war by the time he came online) he’s a bit desensitized to the extinguishing of a spark.

He knows the dangers of getting too close to anyone when you could lose them at any moment. Of course, he’s always been a friendly bot. Most Autobots favor him kindly and he always enjoys other’s company. But he doesn’t stick around long enough to actually get close. He’s a scout. Traveling across Cybertron, sneaking past enemy lines. He’s alone more than not. Perhaps the only true companion he has was the bot always checking in on him at the end of the mission, the one giving him the next orders, and seeking his unlikely advice. It was easier to get close to Optimus… he was less likely to get blown up in a random firefight and never come back.

Which only made his attraction to Breakdown more confusing. Breakdown was everything that Bumblebee tried to avoid: Reckless, foolish, thrill-seeking. Breakdown threw himself into fights he wasn’t likely to win for fun. Breakdown didn’t value his life quite as much as he should either.

They both were willing to gamble everything because neither of them had anything to lose. And that just made whatever they had that much more exciting

They didn’t see each other often. Years would pass before they could catch a glimpse of the other. It didn’t matter how long it had been… how many friends the other had lost… it was like their unspoken connection was the only true consistency in their lives. Sometimes Breakdown would give Bee information. Other times they would just play cards or race. Sometimes they wouldn’t have a chance to talk at all, being in the heat of battle surrounded by other bots.

They got pretty good at pulling punches and staging fights.

And then the war “ended” and Breakdown was nowhere to be found. Bumblebee would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. He should have known better… of course Breakdown would have run, all the Decepticons did. And Breakdown was still a decepticon.

He’s pretty confident Optimus knows about their friendship at this point… or at least has his suspicions. But Optimus had also pardoned the ex-leader of the Decepticons so Bumblebee doesn’t think he has much room to judge.

Being sent undercover for over a decade wasn’t the post-war future Bumblebee had planned for himself. He hadn’t envisioned it would take place on an alien organic planet either. He could still remember a time when he dreamed of retirement and maybe he’d take up a “normal” job like the ones Ironhide used to talk about. He always wondered if he’d be good at something more domestic… if maybe he would have an apartment of his own to return to each night instead of recharging at whatever outpost was closest after days without rest.

Now he views those as delusional fantasies. He’s not really sure who he is outside of his title of Autobot spy. He doesn’t think he can be anything besides a soldier. (A hero… according to some people)

He wasn’t sure if it was boredom that triggered his search for Breakdown or if maybe he was just looking for some kind of company (he was used to solitude but it had just been… so long) but somehow he ended up at nearly every race he caught wind of. It wasn’t desperation, certainly not… he just… had a lot of free time is all.

He got close a couple of times. Breakdown was changing his alt mode regularly, Bee was sure of it. But still every so often he’d catch a streak of blue and white. Breakdown had always been faster than him…

Bee considered himself great at adapting to any environment or situation that he would land himself in, but nothing could have prepared him for his latest assignment… Sparklingsitting…

Why Optimus had pulled him out of 15 years of hiding for something so… mundane? Bee could only begin to question. He was convinced it was a waste of time. Bee didn’t know the first thing about younglings, there hadn’t been any since… well… him. And that was a very long time ago.

But after a while he hated to admit he found them… endearing. It was almost nice… it felt like what he used to imagine a peaceful life would be like when he was still naive enough to think true peace was achievable.

And yet… something was still missing.

Bee assumed it was the thrill of the missions he longed for. Considering Optimus was dead-set on sidelining him… Bee decided to resume one of his personal missions…

And thats when he finally reunited with the only bot he could ever consider his best friend. They had been apart for longer periods before… but somehow this felt different. This could be a new start. The war was over.

And then he lost Breakdown again.

To the same humans to claimed to be their allies no less.

He didn’t care how it must’ve looked when he demanded Optimus give him a status report on Breakdown’s condition when he was brought in.

Bee only got a lecture on how he was cutting it too close by getting involved with a race he knew G.H.O.S.T. was planning to bust.

So no, he didn’t really care what Optimus would think when he broke Breakdown out of prison. And he was only slightly hurt when Breakdown drove off ignoring his pleas of assistance. It wasn’t Breakdown’s fight… he had no right to be upset.

Of course Breakdown came through in the end… he always has.

And so what if they started meeting up periodically to race and talk and forget about everything else for s little while. Even if the times Bee had fallen into recharge in his arms and woken up alone hurt more than he’d like to admit.

Breakdown was quick to remind him, they were still on opposite sided. They could still betray each other in a moments notice… they both still had nothing to lose.

Except… that wasn’t quite true anymore.

Bee was carrying.

At first he didn’t do anything about it. Didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t even act like anything was different. A reaction he would later clarify was shock.

Then came the avoidance. The ticking time bomb until he had to do something about it was like a constant countdown in his head. He started seeking distractions. Lessons with the Terrans. Missions with Arcee. Drives with Breakdown. Anything to avoid thinking about the decisions he would need to make in the future. The very rapidly approaching future.

Breakdown was the first to know.

Looking back, Bee wished he had been able to break the news a little differently. He hadn’t intended to tell him that night at all… he wasn’t sure if he was ever planning on telling him period.

The reality of a sparkling was beginning to hit and for the first time in his life… Bumblebee couldn’t put himself at risk anymore.

And Breakdown was a risk.

It was supposed to be their last time… a chance to say goodbye, even if Breakdown didn’t know it. Instead in a moment of emotion, Bee accidentally let it slip.

He wasn’t expecting Breakdown to choose the path of caution too. To desperately pledge to stay by his side. To stop taking risks… to stop running… to finally face this emotion they’ve been dancing around for centuries

Bee almost felt guilty for assuming so negatively of the one bot he has ever loved, but then again Breakdown has never really done much to prove his loyalty besides never actually betraying him.

This was different though. This was their real new start. The desperation in Breakdown’s eyes, like he’d never seen before, was enough to prove it.

And he trusted Breakdown… because now they both had something to lose.

The hard part was convincing Optimus to do the same…

Bee is lucky he was always Prime’s favorite. Pretty sure any other bot could be charged with fraternizing with the enemy. And of course… the news didn’t go over very smoothly… Bee wasn’t expecting it to…

He’s grateful Breakdown survived to the end of the conversation, though there were a handful of blasters involved in the process.

But after the lectures and the disappointment and the numerous encounters of bots trying to convince Bumblebee to abandon whatever bond he had with Breakdown and allow the Autobots to assist in the Sparkling’s upbringing… Bee noticed for the first time just how hard BD was trying.

Breakdown never cared about what anyone thought of him. He never did things for the approval of others… so Bee knew it was his own decision when BD formerly defected from the Decepticons and took on the autobot mantel.

He’d never seen him more dedicated to anything before… and that’s when Bee knew. They were going to be okay.

He had only ever been a soldier before… he wasn’t sure if he was really cut out for this whole Carrier thing. Breakdown joked that the Terrans had been the trial run, and he had all the training he needed.

They both joked to avoid the spark numbing fear.

They had never experienced it before… not like this… the fear of losing.

Bee wasn’t sure when Breakdown became so… domestic. Sure, he still teased and flirted and ran his mouth. He still made bets he couldn’t win. But he also brought Bee his energon every morning, mixed exactly the way he liked it. And everytime Bee fell into recharge, he’d still be by his side when his optics opened again.

Bumblebee couldn’t help but be angry a little…

Why was he only now receiving this treatment? They’d known how they felt about each other for how long? How long had Bee tried to convince him to stay by his side?

But Breakdown didn’t need Bee’s anger to feel guilty. He barely felt deserving of the chances he’d been given long before this one.

And Bumblebee couldn’t bring himself to act on his anger… not when Breakdown was trying so hard for him.

For them.

Perhaps Bee’s dreams of peace weren’t so far off after all.

[bleue-flora]

So while I’m all for drawing the conversation away from legality, trauma, innocence, bashing c!Tommy in the name of c!Dream lol….etc. I did basically write this essay about c!Tommy first and someone asked me to share, so I shall. @poisedava this is for you. ;) <3

Here’s the thing and this is important - it does not go both ways. If c!Tommy wants to be considered an innocent ‘child’, a teenager, a minor, who is too young and naive to know that what he does is wrong and how that hurts people and has consequences then he doesn’t just get to act like an adult and start wars, serve as a government official, build nations, torture, steal, murder, enslave, commit terrorism, blackmail, assassinate…etc and face no repercussions because ‘he didn’t know better.’ If you want to act like an adult then you’ll be treated as such.

Now I don’t believe that we should view the dsmp in the realm of irl crimes, since there is no legal system or set of rules in place in the dsmp (besides the ones c!Dream set and everyone breaks of course), but if ya’ll are going to say c!Dream deserves prison because of his ‘crimes’ and write off c!Tommy’s actions as less because he is a minor then I will look at it, especially because the term ‘minor’ is connected to the legal system of our world and that is where we are deriving this perceived innocence.

On that note, there are crimes in many countries that even if you’re a minor or a child you can be tried as an adult for reasons like a severe crime (for example first degree murder) and/or if it is a repeated offense despite disciplinary actions. In this case, both apply, as many of the things listed above are repeated abhorrent offenses. Secondly, the definition of ‘minor’ and the age of becoming an adult, while typically set at 18 is not universal. In Scotland for instance, 16 is the legal age of adulthood, which is how old c!Tommy was when he joined the smp.

But looking beyond legally speaking, I for one hardly consider 16 to be a child or an innocent naive minor in the first place. At 16 I could legally drive and drove me and my sister to school. I made sure people had what they needed to keep things from falling apart, whether that’s helping with grocery shopping, making dinner, running errands, helping with homework, making lunches… etc. I hardly think someone who drives is a child unable to face consequences like speedings, drinking and driving… etc. On the topic of age I would also like to highlight that the gap is like 5 years, which all things considered is not a very big gap, not to mention one of the reasons young people are considered irresponsible and given a bit of slack is because until the age of 25 your brain is still developing, and as c!Dream was also under the age of 25 that also applies to him and a huge portion of the server.

But being young doesn’t give you a free pass to do whatever you want and then complain about the consequences. You don’t get to just run a red light and kill kids crossing the road and claim innocence because you are a new driver. Because you are young, because you were distracted, because you were just trying to change the song and didn’t see them, because you didn't mean to. You are still responsible for killing people.

And if you don't want to be responsible, if you want to be treated like a child, then stay a child. But as a child you are not considered mature enough to know what is right from wrong, which is where guidance from guardians comes in. Children (really generally speaking), don’t know better, which is why they get grounded, spanked, their mouths washed out with soap, forced to write lines, get things taken away, time out, scolding… etc - punished. They are not free and independent to do what they like. Now obviously, when it comes to the dsmp there are really no such guardians or parents in charge of the minors, but the point still stands, if you do not understand your actions are wrong then someone should teach you and (whether you or not you agree with that) that is often through punishment.

Under that guise, c!Dream taking away c!Tommy’s discs for starting wars and breaking the rules and murdering him, is a form of parenting. (You can argue with whether you consider it good parenting… but that's not really the point). Even further, Exile then could be considered a more extreme form of time out and/or grounding, which is extreme because the violations are extreme. If you steal a cookie you are forced to go to your room for a bit, if you burn down the king’s house then you get exiled from the land. In Exile, he is forced to lose items which could be considered revoking privileges and getting his belongings taken away (like if your parents ever took your phone for a week). Hell, even hitting him with the axe could be seen as a super extreme spanking for not complying with his punishment. Now am I staying that makes it justified? Am I saying those were ok things to happen? Am I saying c!Tommy deserved being treated like that? No. Not really, I am just simply pointing out that in a world where the crime isn’t spray painting a building but burning said building down in an act of terrorism it almost makes sense in a twisted way that the punishments are more severe to fit the infraction.

(I would also like to point out that c!Phil has a moment with c!Tommy where he forced him to smelt stone and then destroy it over and over again and isn’t that kinda what c!Dream was doing in Exile?… just saying, not to say the behavior is right, just something I noticed and thought was interesting.) And the reason why the act of losing items is important is because a huge part of his character arc is surrounded by the value of objects and treating people like he treats objects. It was a big moment of deliberation for him to give up the discs for c!Tubbo’s life. Do you even realize how screwed up that is? A person over an object. But the thing is, somehow in c!Tommy’s mind those two things were synonymous, he was never there for c!Tubbo when c!Tubbo needed someone to have his back. When c!Tubbo goes to get revenge for his missing child and dead husband, he teams up with his literal worst enemies the people who took his canonical lives. Where was c!Tommy?… But whenever c!Tommy needed c!Tubbo to go after c!Dream or support him even with the things c!Tubbo disagreed with, he’s there. Honestly, he’s less of a best friend and more of a sword. The dsmp completes c!Tommy’s character arc by him giving up the discs for c!Tubbo’s life and to for once listen to c!Dream. His character arc, put very very simply, was valuing and treating people as people instead of things.

So the - it’s understandable, it’s less bad than what c!Dream did because he’s young and didn’t know better - is just not reasonable to me. Exile being used as justification isn’t really valid either. Ok so for a week, yea he was abused, he lost his things, people didn’t visit him, sure some were tricked into not visiting him, c!Dream took all of his items over and over, c!Dream hurt him when he did not comply, sure c!Tommy was suicidal as a result. But ya know, when no one else could be bothered to show up, c!Dream came by everyday. Plus abuse on the server is like scuffed so I hardly hold Exile as a gold standard for trauma like y’all I don’t know if I need to make a complication of how many times on the dsmp people hit each other with axes and hurt eachother or force eachother to comply or something. Or if I need to make a list of everytime c!Tommy has done worse even before Exile, but yeeeesh. Like don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Exile was deserved, I don’t think anyone deserves abuse. Period. But on the scale of the dsmp and considering how many people he hurt and the circumstances that got him there, I find it hard to feel for him. And that’s coming from someone who (before medication) used to have panic attacks multiple times a week, who has been bullied, who has been isolated, who has been abandoned and betrayed by my best friends, who has been so so lonely, who has been suicidal, and who was a nasty person as a result of being hurt. So I get it, I really do. But to me it doesn’t really matter much, it doesn’t make him the hero, or redeemed, or innocence, or any more likable, especially when so many other characters on the dsmp have similar instances on their arcs.

And if we want to compare, c!Tommy’s ‘crimes’ to c!Dream’s because he’s ‘just as bad,’ the thing is, I’m not so sure that’s true, for many reasons. One of which is that c!Dream has really only ever reacted. Over and over he gets pushed into reacting, but usually he gives people a way out and he tries to do the better thing at first, but eventually after failing he turns towards the latter. While on the other hand, c!Tommy continues to provoke, over and over and over. Look no further than the finale where he shows up to the prison to assassinate c!Dream, after c!Dream literally hasn’t done anything to him since the prison break (unless you count c!Tommy and c!Wilbur breaking in… which again - provoke). And there really is no such transformation for c!Tommy, he doesn’t start off trying to do the right thing at all, which also brings us to motivation… which continues to baffle me, what is c!Tommy’s motivation? Because if it’s truly to have a home and be happy with his friends then why does he constantly do things that would jeopardize that?

So, you want me to feel bad for and root for someone - who often worked against their own stated motivation, who did drugs, tortured people, started wars, killed, enslaved, destroyed, used, stole, was sexist, xenophobic, disrespectful and constantly talked over people, who didn’t even have his friend’s back more importantly his best friend’s, c!Tubbo’s, back who continued to risk his life for c!Tommy’s schemes - because what? He is a minor? Because he was abused and suicidal after facing the consquences of his own actions? Because we get his pov? Because he declared himself the hero? Because c!Dream personally targeted him for no reason - because he’s so innocent and was no threat to c!Dream… after he literally KILLED HIM multiple times with much less armor, then with no armor at all (in one of the first streams)? …..…. Like heh?

Ah nah you’re so right… c!Dream definitely deserved prison - He killed c!Tommy after all!… in a war, where he was given a chance to surrender or face no mercy… in a fair dual, where he set the terms… in prison, where he provoked c!Dream, killed the cat c!Dream admitted to caring about all after c!Dream had been no doubt going insane from being isolated in prison for months already… I mean… come on, in no way do I see any of those as specifically targeting c!Tommy (don’t even get me started on the finale where he mentions Spirit just to piss c!Dream off).

And ya know, after saying all of that, I would even go as far as to say that c!Tommy is not a hero, nor even an anti-hero, since he is neither selfless, noble or full of goodness, which are some of the more fundamental qualities. In fact, Theseus, who c!Techno calls c!Tommy, is a Greek hero who in the beginning becomes infamous because he slays many savage murderers and monsters on his way to Athens. But I ask you, what savagery has c!Tommy stopped? What noble feats has he done for the sake of the safety of people?… He may be a protagonist, but honestly I don’t think he qualifies as a hero. Sure, both c!Dream and c!Techno’s reference Theseus, but they are really more highlighting the end of his life. Overall, I don’t think hero (even a flawed Greek one) is an adequate description for him. Perhaps anti-villain would be more fitting, a villain with some heroic traits?… I mean his most heroic moments are probably the duel, willing to fight in doomsday with or without help, and willing to be nuked, but like eh… the first two were over a piece of land, a country. It wasn’t about protecting people. I mean in both of those he was part of provoking the conflict in the first place, so is it heroic to help in a conflict that you helped cause? And in the last one, I mean it is the end of his arc so anti-villain technically still works for having a good selfless heroic moment at the end ;) ……

[mekha-draws]

"Ok, making pairs is actually kinda fun ngl, and I'm starting to like this one scry in particular hell the colors are super simple (Grey/Copper/Charcoal) and it makes me use that new gene even!

"lemme check the search, hopefully there will be something to pick, it has copper and everyone and their mom has made tons of color combos lmao...

ehh maybe I can go with coal instead it's close enough, no problem...

well lets go further then, taupe? ohh flint is also neat so it could be that too...

(only one active but not really hopeful on that one)well lead is a bit darker than intended for the thylacine scry but is workable...

pfft fine we'll make this a near-XYX not my preference but there's likely more prospects that way...

[bard-of-beasts]

A sketch for thy Enoch fans

[marclef]

⭐The Fabled CAT Longpost.⭐

well, it's finally done. over the last few months i've seen a lot of people posting their Pizza Tower OCs, and basically all of them are so freaking pretty and i wanna squeeze and love all of them. and so, here i am today, finally feeling brave enough to officially share my little Pizza friend with the world.

(first time making a post like this, hopefully it's not too cramped to read.)

cat drawings and lots of writing ahead.

So, a bit of backstory. Some time before the events of Pizza Tower, Pizzahead did all sorts of experiments on creating new life and stuff, for example the Peppino Clones/ Fake Peppino. A brief experimentation of his involved using the brains of various deceased animals/people into new bodies, regardless of compatibility, to see if they'd still work. Eyhm was one of these, a stray cat off the streets with a spare brain put into her. She barely has any memories of her past life, besides the fact that she was definitely human... and that she was quite young. She chose her name for herself though, based on remembering only the first letter of her old name: M.

At some point, Eyhm and the rest of those "created" through this experiment managed to break out, and for a while, she's just wandering aimlessly around the outside world not knowing what to do with herself. But eventually, by some strange force she finds herself heading back to the Pizza Tower again... and that's when she meets Peppino.

Personality-wise, Eyhm's normally pretty kind and polite to those she meets, but she can get very anxious in unknown territory. Thankfully throughout the Pizza Tower, she had the likes of Peppino and Gustavo to protect her, and after the game's events Peppino ends up adopting her to stay in the pizzeria after she has nowhere else to go. So, now she spends most of her time at Peppino's, providing company and a bit of happiness to her newfound friends.

By far though the one Eyhm gets closest to after the game's events would be Fake Peppino. They both relate pretty heavily, having been "created" in some form by Pizzahead. Back inside the tower as well, Fake Peppino noticed how much Peppino was trying to protect this cat, and so, it's only a natural Peppino thing to do then isn't it? He spends a lot of time with her, and if anyone tries to mess with his little kitty, things get messy.

She and Brick get along good too. They're both weird animals (and I definitely based her colors off of Brick's heh), plus the idea of this tiny kitten being friends with a rat much larger than her just delights me.

Eyhm also likes The Noise a lot for some reason. She thinks he looks like a bunny. Noise does not really like her back.

But yeah, after a rough start to her life, Eyhm gets to be comfy with her cool two dads, her giant rat friend, and her giant very friendly goopy frog. And this weird bunny/rat guy that shows up sometimes.

so yeah, that's about as much of the Cat as i have for now. she's half the reason i'm too afraid to share my own writing stuff but, maybe someday. hope you like my weird little cat gremlin child.

[hakkikun]

just some floating onion ducks 🦆

[bluedudewithatude]

———- Hey

Is this thing o̴n̴?̶ ̴I̴s̵ ̷a̶n̴y̸o̷n̸e̵—̷-̷ ṯ̶́h̴̰̀ẽ̴̠r̸͚̋ḛ̶̏?̶͎͛

F̵͚̒.̶̦͠ ̸̳͝ṟ̷͝.̷̖͝ ̶͓͐0̶͉͠.̵̜̏ ̷͔̔N̸̢̕ ̵͈̓.̷̠͐ ̴̀͜t̸̢̚ḭ̸͌ ̶͓̅E̵̬͛ȓ̸͉ $̶̙́

—̷-̸ ̵C̵o̸m̸e̷ ̸o̶n̴,̸ ̵w̵o̴r̸k̸ ̵w̵i̶t̵h̷ ̶m̴e̵—̵here!̵ Ah! There we go! Finally!

Hey, guys! S' been a while! I know I've been kind of all over the place and doing some different things... but hey. You know me!

No one can get rid of me that easily!

[leatherbookmark]

actually i have discovered the only true and correct reading of md/zs: wgxn are the true Evil Men of mdzs. just look at how they’re dealing with lxc post-guanyin

[gaytobymeres]

Callan should have got to rant at Hunter more often

[cherrymoonvol6]

oh.

[you-will-return]

-

[vintageghoststories]

I’m going to kill the next fucking costumer who comes in and asks for a fucking milkshake I swear to god

[official-mr-knight]

Well since jake really liked to smoke a bit, i wanted to bought him this

A bit.. Too much, innit? But still 🤍

[tojisun]

EXPAND ON THIS

https://www.tumblr.com/tojisun/758472884430716928/no-matter-how-hard-you-try-you-just-cant-make

AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

aww im glad that u (all) liked that blurb!! didnt expect the vitriol in ur guys’ reactions but ykw? samesies <3 oki uhh so heres something quick and simple

cw: fivesome (but they go in order, also simon doesnt properly get a turn im sorry 😞); f!reader; subspace; builds up into consensual noncon; unrealistic sex; rambly as hell and its set up messily; wc is 3.6k :’3

(you tell them it’s a wrong send, and that it’s meant for johnny so they all said, “oh damn. welp,” and leaves you and johnny to go at it all night long teehee <33) (jk) (unless) (no ok im jk)

johnny fucks you first. the guys didn’t complain, and trickled into your room, ready to fall to whatever place they could sit down to watch. johnny laughs, and tugs you towards him, gently slapping your hand away when you try to cover yourself up with your shirt, and tells them, “watch me.”

not us, but me. like you’re a nameless hole whose only worth is to be fucked, and somehow that… doesn’t deter you at all.

instead, you ignore the warmth flooding in your cheeks and the stares that drag on your body, and focused on johnny’s smirk and his crooning words and his wide palms roving over whatever sliver of your skin he can touch. he positions himself in between your legs, his fatigues an uncomfortable sensation against your oversensitive skin.

he doesn’t care. he drags down his zipper and frees his cock from his briefs, before swiping his palm on the inside of your thigh, gathering the excess lube glistening there to use it as oil for his prick. your nose scrunches when he brings his hand to give himself a quick tug, foreskin peeling from the head to show off how flushed it is.

he crawls until he’s on top of you, and throws out, “let me show ye how to fuck ‘er, yes?”

you don’t even realize the words are for the rest of the squad because he’s already slipping his cock in your cunt, slow and careful, and you keen because yessss—

this is the delicious burn you’ve wanted. oh god oh god—

it didn’t even take johnny long before you’re cumming, your throat spasming at the scream that rips itself out from within you. your hips rise from the bed, your body jolting, unable to ground itself at the breaking euphoria that forced shockwaves to raze your synapses.

you fall on the bed limply, satiation filling you up in lapping waves. johnny pulls out and fucks his fist and sprays his cum all over your stomach. he musses it up, rubbing his palm against it like it’s a damn lotion, and lathers whatever inch of your belly he can cover.

it’s gross and weird, especially as the recollection that you’ve had an audience hits you, but then johnny’s stepping back and moving away. you try to shut your legs close, but someone’s already shuffling in, taking up the space that johnny had carved out.

you stare up at your captain, shock filling you up. he doesn’t ask with words but he quirks his brow up, waiting, and you don’t know what it is, but you give him a nod before ducking your head to the side.

which was a mistake, you learn, because you make eye contact with kyle; kyle who is—was—slowly rubbing himself through his pants, his palm gliding over his chub. his eyes are blown wide and he looks ravenous as he meets your gaze.

you hiccup, feeling cornered and delighted at the same time, but then john’s rubbing his cock along your messy folds, using the mess you and johnny made to lube himself up, and you mewl, tearing your eyes away from kyle to meet john’s stare head on.

he looks… calm. not teasing nor hungry, but poised with forced grace like this is another mission, and he has willed his full body to sync together so that not even a stray strand of hair will falter and miss a beat.

you don’t know how to position that with yourself, not like you needed to dwell on it any further because john’s already thrusting in. like johnny, he is careful, but he is more cautious, pushing inch by inch without even a ragged breath like he’s scoping out your reaction before he could let out his.

god, why’s everything so difficult with him—even now, speared with his cock, you still don’t know how to react. it’s like you’re a recruit all over again, dawdling underneath your CO’s scrutiny. it’s jarring, terrifying, really, but then john’s drooping onto you, his head tipping down to nuzzle close to your jaw, and this level of intimacy is what rips a moan out of you. it is drawn out and high-pitched, and so, so utterly debauched.

you hear more than see john’s pleased laugh, his breaths coming out in puffs that brush against your neck in a ticklish manner. the moment drags on—nuzzles and quiet huffs, and slow rocks of his hips almost like he’s taking his time to savour you; to allow you to get used to his size because he’s so different from johnny.

johnny is thick, but john is long. he is reaching deeper than you have ever known, and it’s so overwhelming that you begin to cling to him, in need of any way to ground yourself down from the slow-racing pleasure.

you don’t know how long he’s got you like that, but then he’s pulling back and away, and, “nonono, please. please, sir—”

“shh, i’ve got you,” he rumbles, still so utterly quiet that it forces out the tears faster, and you know something’s changed because john is looking at you with a proud smile, all tactile as he manhandles you to your side, before disappearing behind you. you feel your head being lifted then dropped onto something harder than your pillow, and it is only the smell of ozone that lets you know that john had pillowed your head with his arm, while the other snakes around your waist to pull you closer to him.

you stare at the expanse of your room but everything looks like they’re appearing underneath a hazy filter, so you blink your eyes to clear them from that mist but it remains unchanged. you feel heavy, all of sudden, like you’re submerged in water, wading through the ripples. floating.

you try to look at the others but all you see are blurs of colours, and you know this should terrify you, you know something’s happening in your mind, but you feel so good. so happy. so you fold into yourself, accepting the haze with a keen because john’s fucking back into you.

it is still so utterly gentle, like love-making, and this makes you sob because the euphoria is dizzying and overwhelming. it is something you haven’t felt before—johnny fucks you like a man starved; john fucks you like he’s trying to meld himself into you. or you into him.

it is so drastically different, and you were made to navigate the changing tides. but you can’t, not when john—

“fuck!” you scream, thrashing in his hold, but john ignores your voice as his heavy hand falls on your cunt with consistent smacks.

you feel lightheaded, untethered, and this is what pushes you to the edge. your orgasm is cataclysmic. it’s like having the fabrics of your reality collide until you are a supernova, bright and burning and so, so, so ecstatic.

you don’t even know how you came down from that high, but when you wake up, john’s already pulled out and your thighs feel extra sticky. you sniffle, turning to accept the quick kiss he leaves on your cheek. he pulls away and you watch him sink back to the lone chair in your room, and only then do you realize he’s still in his uniform. still in the fatigues.

it makes you extra vulnerable somehow and you twist, trying to find anything to cover yourself with, but your shirt’s been thrown to the floor, far from your reach, and your blankets were kicked off the bed.

you grumble, shyness encroaching again now that there’s no one to monopolize your attention, but a movement from the corner of your eyes makes you jolt. you turn, forcing your eyes to focus, and you blink in surprise because you are sure that kyle wasn’t there before—close to your shelving that is stuffed with little knickknacks and souvenirs brought to you by the boys when they take on separate missions that don’t require your involvement.

the same shelving where you’ve plopped your charging vibrator on. the very same one that is being held up by kyle.

“kyle?” you ask, unable to say any more with how wrecked your voice has become. but the call echoes like a gunshot in the suddenly stifling room, and they all look at you as one. like it didn’t matter if kyle was the one holding the wand because they all knew what they want, and it is to see you be fucked with it.

excitement fills you up despite the throbbing exhaustion settling in your bones, and you wonder if they could scent it with the way the pressure in the room grows heavy, almost bladed—ice shards against still waters.

kyle moves towards you and your eyes track the wand, almost hypnotized by it, and watch as he drops it on the mattress to shuck off his clothes. it is only then do you turn to him, hungry in the way you devour how he moves, how he breathes, how he unbuckles his belt.

his trousers come first, then his shirt. kyle is a catastrophic wonder—seeing him naked like this makes your core throb, aching need stretching in the yawning of your stomach, because he is so beautiful, terrifyingly so.

he reaches for your waist and drags you so you’re laying on your back again, your legs sprawled out on either side of his hips. he looks down at you, his eyes crinkled in his smile. he looks so charming, boyish and youthful, and he makes you thrum with quiet desire because you feel safe even when you’re bare before him.

you feel particularly cherished, like you are the apple of his eye.

“you’ve been so good to us, love,” he murmurs, but in the silence of everyone, his voice bounces off the walls, seeping into where the others are, watching raptly once again.

you nod, not knowing what else to say. kyle chuckles, the sound trickling like quiet chimes, and you wonder if he’s doing this for you—talking to you in whispers to give your body time to come down from the tremors, or filling you up with something other than a cock because johnny had come in scathing, and john had pierced you with something consuming, and kyle—

kyle is trying to distract you.

you’ve forgotten about the toy, sitting there so innocently. it’s out of your reach, tucked preciously close to kyle’s left leg the way he treats all his smaller guns—never straying beyond his person, and hovering close. you’ve once asked him if it wasn’t more comforting to have it on him where he can feel its weight and kyle had looked at you with that soft smile like you’ve uttered something so delightful, before telling you, “there’s a certain pleasure in having it displayed.”

like a promise and an assurance—he will always be faster; the one who is more in control.

and today, kyle is treating the wand with the same vehemence.

you didn’t even know you were already shaking your head until kyle had cupped your cheek, quiet sounds of comfort rumbling from his chest.

“don’t worry,” he says, eyes blazing with a terrifying promise. “all good girls have to be rewarded.”

kyle doesn’t fuck you with his cock right away; instead, he’d bent over and took a nipple into his mouth. it makes you gasp, back arching at every wet suck. there is pleasure to derive, but it is so muted that you begin to settle back into your mattress, waiting, almost in bated breath because kyle has yet to reach for the wand.

you jolt when he finally uses his hands, stomach tensing in anticipation. but still, kyle doesn’t reach for it, and instead he swipes a finger to your slit. your pussy’s still so sensitive so it makes you buck, a sharp animalistic sound tearing from your throat, and kyle takes advantage of the sudden change in the pace.

he slips in two fingers in your cunt, curling to poke at your walls, before fucking them out—he lifts up and sucks your other nipple—and punching them back in. it’s a wet slide, each thwaps ring in your head, and you moan, clawing at kyle’s back because how could he make you feel good just like this?

it’s almost a laughable parallel—just an hour ago, you had been in the same position, with your legs parted open and two fingers fucking in, while your other hand flicks at your nipples because you had so desperately wanted any form of orgasm. god, it didn’t even need to feel ecstatic, just something that’d rip your aching need into quiet tides. and now here you are, spread open with kyle mirroring every flick of his fingers and every pinching sensation on your nipples, and he is making you feel good.

how dare he. how dare he give you unadulterated pleasure with just his fingers? how could you ever go back to masturbating now that he’s even triumphed over your previous failures, showing your body that there are ways to make your toes curl without a cock nor a toy?

how dare he—

“no!” you whine, circling your hand around his wrist when he pulls out. you were so close; its tendrils spreading all over your body in the wake of your encroaching orgasm. you thought you were going to be rewarded? kyle promised. he said so!

“oh, love,” kyle coos, breaking through the swirling turmoil in your head. “i’m not done yet, i promise.”

you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the sob that is lodged in your throat as you watch kyle give his cock a pump before lining it up with your cunt. unlike johnny and john—and the reminder that they’re there, with simon, makes you jolt for a quick second—kyle doesn’t press in slow nor gentle.

no.

kyle punches everything in. you scream, the sound guttural as you are filled so quickly and so deeply, leaving you to feel the sudden crescendo of your pleasure. your body spasmed—because there was nothing else that could explain the sensation of having all your synapses sing with a ripping pleasure—before you black out for a second.

you come to the feeling of kyle’s hand mapping your belly, digging just enough that his fingers dimple your skin. you are still stretched and stuffed, and the remnants of your pleasure fire up again.

he flicks his eyes up to you with a smile. “came so soon f’r me, love.”

your only response is a gurgle. it makes kyle laugh.

“that must mean y’r ready for something else, yeah?”

a confused whimper bubbles from your throat. kyle just snaps his hips in reply, rendering your mind shut again. you hear him shuffling against the sheets, his free hand reaching for something you cannot see, and you feel your mind pressing at its edges, trying to retrieve the memory of what it is he is looking for because you know what it is, you’re sure.

buzzing noises fill your ears, the sound ricocheting around the space, and your body locks, recollection slamming into you. you tear your gaze away from the far wall to look at kyle.

you wonder what your face must’ve looked like because kyle begins to croon.

“i’ve seen this from a homemade porn video.” he shrugs at the incredulous expression on your face. “and i’ve always wanted to try it because sweetheart, they didn’t press it on her clit.”

what—

kyle moves, his body rippling with ease. you don’t notice but the boys crowd in, interest bright in their eyes. only ghost continues to be rooted in his spot, and it is only his head tipping to the side that lets the others know he’s just as interested.

kyle presses the toy on your belly. your nose scrunches in displeasure because it just feels like you’re being massaged incorrectly, but he keeps shifting, hunting, and it’s weird because kyle’s still in you so what—

you gasp, eyes widening at the odd sensation. kyle freezes, his body curling into something predatory, and digs your wand there on your—

“no way,” johnny laughs, and you want to snarl at him to go away but you can’t because he’s right.

no way.

kyle had pressed the vibrating bulb of your toy just below your belly and slightly before your upper pelvic area—kyle had pressed the toy on your womb.

the pleasure is new, uncharted, and it is petrifying because you’ve never felt this way before. you didn’t even know it was possible to stimulate yourself there, but kyle’s already resuming the pace he’d set, fucking his cock in deeply almost like he wants to feel the buzz from within.

you begin to sob but the tears feel different this time. they’re still out of pleasure, but the swirling surprise melts the euphoria into something frightening. you don’t even realize you’ve begun to babble.

“no more!” you hiccup, weak fists thumping against kyle’s chest only to be restrained by john and johnny, each man pushing them down with their own hands.

everything feels too scary, all of a sudden. this pleasure of yours is bigger than you have ever expected and it’s building up too fast and too soon, and still, kyle remains unfazed.

“i’m scared! i’m scared, kyle please!”

your words turn into unintelligible warbles, and kyle just says how you are so adorable like this.

“y’r pussy’s going stir crazy, baby,” he croons amidst your tears and you want to scream at him, to be mad and say something mean, but you feel so utterly lost in the bubbling bliss.

it is something you’ve never felt before; it’s almost like you are relearning your body at this very moment—like kyle is unmaking you, and remodelling you, and you feel this cathartic bloating of your orgasm.

kyle sees the moment you succumbed to the enveloping terror of your euphoria, and it’s like he’s been waiting for this moment because he begins to fuck you faster. deeper. his pelvis meets the plush of your ass with every thrust, while he digs the toy further down your flesh.

how could the vibrations ripple past the fat, you don’t know, but your orgasm is building, peaking—

it breaks with another scream tearing from your lungs. this one is much stronger than the previous ones, and enveloping because it feels like your whole body has shut down in the wake of your release.

your mind splinters, your body falling limp like your strings have been cut loose, and kyle turns forgiving again because he shuts the toy down and throws it away. he pulls out and only then do you feel the trickle of his cum sliding out of you.

he leans in, brushing his nose over your cheek. then, “just one more, little bird.”

kyle slides off the bed, but so do john and johnny, and you hiccup, still sobbing, still floating from the world-shattering climax, when simon greets you.

he is quiet for a while, watching as you catch your breath. you couldn’t even stop yourself from sniffling, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes to stain your already blotchy cheeks. he grunts, hand falling to brush unimaginably soft touches across your body, observing.

waiting.

“was’it?” you finally bite out because you know simon—you know ghost—and there is something that’s sitting on the tip of his tongue that he so desperately wants to spit out.

simon grumbles, rolling his eyes.

you groan, growing impatient. “tell m’.”

but he still doesn’t talk, choosing instead to manhandle your body until it is close to him. you want to tell him to give you a minute; that you’re still so sore and tired, and kyle just fucked you mindless that you need a goddamn break, so, “s’mon, no…”

he grunts, palming along your waist, then your hips, before it stops on the fat of your ass. he grabs a handful.

“won’t you let me fuck this hole instead,” simon finally replies.

your heart lurches to your throat, and you’re not the only one surprised because johnny’s bounding in close, excited, chatting simon’s ear how he wants to go next, “please, LT?”

you want to tell him to ask you, not simon, but simon’s already giving his assent with a huff, chirping how johnny’s so impatient—a master and his dog—before they turn to you again.

it is only then do you realize that simon hadn’t been asking for proper permission; it was all formalities because he was not going to settle for anything that isn’t yes.

anal sex hasn’t been something you are really interested in; no amount of porn and online anecdotes can change your mind, but simon’s gaze is heavy. it’s final.

before you can even reply, john’s already throwing something to simon. he catches it with ease, and only when simon flicks his hand do you recognize it to be the lube you’ve chucked away in your anger when this whole night started. kyle returns with the wand.

you lay there, on simon’s lap, seeing them flanking you for this… corrupting.

“okay,” you muster, trying to stake even a semblance of control.

thankfully, they ignore the shaking of your fists or the way your chest begins to heave in your morbid anticipation. simon laughs, and swoops down to nip your cheek.

“good girl.”

whew whyd it become a long ramble of smut??? it was supposed to be a john n johnny centric fucking bc of the prelude but alas, i needed to write a semblance of dark!kyle so here we are <3

temp taglist bc yall are animals (affectionate)!!!: @getosuguswhore @slut-lmao @mxtokko @imjusthereforkonig @bratzdolly4 @mabelwinters @stars4sar @sergeant-jasper @spiceywawa @j0r-d1e