#youre getting the pinned tag on all of these

[crowley-winter-boots]

I would like to add my own take to some of these/further expand on what you have written.

Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls:

I've literally walked out of stores in the mall with unpayed items. Check for the chunky plastic white tags on it, or a silver sticker with a black dot: these will set off alarms when you leave the door and they are very difficult, if not impossible to take off without getting caught by employees. Supermarkets are more iffy, I've never stolen anything from one, but they have more cameras there. Small stores in malls typically don't, at least not any I can see, which I'm fairly certain it is illegal for stores to have hidden cameras. Wear baggy hoodies, you can slip something in your sleeve quickly. Basketball shorts, parachute pants, other bottoms with large pockets are great for slipping something in unnoticed. Also, DO NOT dwell on something too hard. It will make it more likely to get caught- act natural. A lot of people go into the mall just to browse, so it's perfectly normal to walk out without having bought a single thing.

Put stickers everywhere:

It is incredibly easy to make your own stickers. It is better if you have some artistic ability so you're able to format the sticker sheets properly, but it's fine if you don't have those skills. It's like a jigsaw puzzle, you'll have to rotate the images in weird angles and look for patterns of where one nook fits into one cranny. Repeating patterns are good, too. You just need sticker paper, a printer, and an app that you can import photos into and create the sticker sheets: I personally use Procreate, but that's because I use it for artwork and it was the easiest option on hand for me, personally. Ibis Paint X is free, a bit difficult to import photos in my opinion, but it works. I'm sure Word could work as well, though not as well. The less white space, the better, but make sure to leave enough room between each sticker as to have even borders all around. A common mistake I made when I first started making stickers was that I would accidentally overlap some stickers or make them touching.

Learn how to sew:

Here is a punk fashion tip: USE DENTAL FLOSS. I know, it sounds weird, but it's a great option. Cheaper than thread, you can buy it in bigger quantities, it lasts longer, it's sturdier, and overall just a really good option.

Furthermore, since I mentioned a punk fashion tip, I want to add my own way to protest here, as well as other DIY things you can do.

Battle vests/jackets are excellent. I'm making one, as well as my own patches to add to it. DO NOT put political statements or LGBT-oriented things on the back: this can, and will, put you in danger. Not only will you not see someone coming at you, but if someone sees it from the front, they are less likely to actually harm you since you can see them coming. There are some other punk DIY clothing you can make, including crust pants and just homemade patches to add onto something else. You also don't have to fit the "punk aesthetic" to be a punk: it's an ideology.

Some more punk fashion tips: You CAN paint on clothes and fabrics. Just add equal parts fabric softener to equal parts acrylic paints. This will prevent the paint from getting crunchy, make it last longer, prevent it from chipping, allow it to stretch with the fabric, and make it machine washable. You can also make homemade pins: acrylic paint, bottle caps, soda tabs, safety pins, modge podge, and a lot of hot glue. Put the safety pin through the soda tab, and glue the soda tab down with hot glue. Drown that shit in it- may seem unnecessary, but hot glue is stubborn with metal and does not want to stick. Do this BEFORE YOU PAINT, I made the mistake and everything peeled off because it warmed up and stuck to my table. When you're done painting, seal it with Modge Podge: it's a type of glue-like substance that seals paint, makes it shiny, prevents it from chipping and peeling, and makes it last longer.

Engage in art

Art does NOT have to be good. Art is about having fun and expressing yourself. It takes YEARS to become good at it, but even then there is always room to improve. Don't downplay your own efforts because someone else has skills you don't yet have. Get creative. Bring out those cheap art supplies extended family bought you on a whim when you were in grade school. Cut things up and glue them where they don't belong. Spill coffee on it, crumple the paper, and destroy it before using it as your canvas.

Be loud and obnoxious

This is one I'm adding in here myself. The right wants to claim queer people are shoving their agenda down their throats, but then wave MAGA flags and ask for heterosexual pride month? Wave those flags of yours, wear way too many (stolen, or DIY ofc) pins of pride flags and pronouns. Wear pride flags like capes. Dye your hair crazy colours, put on crazy makeup just to go out to the store. Being visible not only pisses off people that don't want to see us, but it also helps other people feel seen and safer. THIS CAN BE DANGEROUS. Like I said with the battle vests, YOU CAN GET ATTACKED.

I've been wearing my transgender pride flag to school. Pride flags are banned from being hung up, but nothing in the dress code prohibits it. This weekend, I will paint "WE THE PEOPLE" on the back of it. Teachers have pulled me aside only on the second day of wearing it, asking why. I've been called an "it" (doesn't misgender me anyway, I use it/its so jokes on them), someone (pitifully) attempted to throw food at me, people have been shouting "what the fuck" and "is that a trans flag?" in the halls, people have been sideyeing and staring at me. There have been good reactions too, of course, but I'm sharing my bad reactions to further imply doing this can be dangerous. I live in central Texas, for reference.

The negative reactions, since they have not directly harmed me, I choose to find funny. I laugh it off. I want people to see that being trans isn't something that can't be erased from existence. I want them to see people like me are not going anywhere.

Survive and be safe

Another personal addition- but DO NOT give up. I know that things are bad, and that things will get worse. But living is one of the things you can do to stick it to them. Listen to "Famous Last Words - My Chemical Romance", that song can probably explain this as well. Do not stop fighting, and do not stop living. Be safe, don't put yourself in unnecessary danger in this fight, because it's going to be a big one. Make sure your mental health is good, and if it's not do what you can to improve on it. Don't let the government tell you that you don't have a place here; because you do. Fuck the government. Queer people have existed since before the Ancient Greeks, it's visible in nature all around. Lions and hens have been known for transitioning to male without actually having the male reproductive systems. Penguins and walruses have been known for homosexual relationships. America is built upon immigrants- the original Americans ARE immigrants because they came from Europe to colonize these lands. America wouldn't exist without immigrants.

I hope the expansion on what Kurohe had written is alright/helps out! Be safe out there and be yourself. Don't water yourselves down for the sake of people who don't want to see you thrive.

Things you can do to actively participate in the revolution

Here's the list !

I know some of those will look really silly, i promise they are not. And obviously, this is not a checklist, you don't have to do everything. But they're steps that you can absolutely take if you wish to, and they WILL help.

(i am continually correcting things when people point out mistakes. Thanks everyone for your help)

(under the cut !)

1) Let's start off with a very easy one you can do right now: stop using Chrome. It's a google owned browser, and it sents all of your data towards it. Mozilla is a very good replacement, but almost anything will do, really. We revolting against capitalism as a whole, and this is a good first step

Also, resign your amazon prime subscription.

2) Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls. I am not kidding. Little things, that aren't really monitored: a can of food, a lighter, a pair of socks. Condiments are particularly easy to hide in bags or pockets. Steal hygiene products, steal food.

Remember that you should have access to those for free, and you don't because a few rich guys don't want you to.

Additional tip: train station stores are very easy to steal from, because they're so busy. But don't put yourself in danger. Check beforehand if they check bags at checkout, look out for employees that might notice what you're doing. Don't be reckless.

(edit: this used to also say airports, but i've been told it's way too high risk as it's considered a federal crime. Thanks for letting me know)

3) In the same line, if you see someone stealing anything from a big store, no you didn't.

4) I know a lot of people are scared of disrespecting rules. By fear of being caught, or by guilt. My advice is: start disrespecting stupid, meaningless rules. I don't have specific exemples, but you'll encounter them and wonder why you're doing that. Stop doing it. This will train you to be able to disobey autority way easier.

5) Put stickers everywhere. If you already have them, go ham. Especially on public property (lamposts are amazing). If you don't, buy them from artists or independant stores, not big brands. If you cannot afford them, remember that you can simply write stuff on an A4 paper and plaster it to walls. Or even post its !

6) Carry a sharpie with you at all time, the big black ones. If you see propaganda, scribble it out. Keep a look out for terfs stickers, maga posters, etc. Also good for getting rid of transphobic and sexist stuff written on public restroom stalls !

8) Learn how to sew. I know, that sounds dumb ! But i promise you, not only will it be amazing to trade with other people ("i'll sew back ur shirt and in exchange, you give me a can of peaches !"), corporations also haaaate when you know how to fix your clothes. Because they want you to buy more. You'll spend a lot less money if you know how to fix em

7) Buy locally. This means going to the market or small stores, and thrifting your clothes. If you can't for money or accessibility reasons, try trading with your friends, family and neighbours. Get communication going in your circles, and you'll realise there are a lot of things that you can simply trade with or buy from people around you. Like a jar of jam against some eggs, or a pair of socks for a t-shirt you don't wear anymore !

9) If you have the space and the money, grow your own food, and share it or sell it around you. Be careful, some assholes will call the FDA on you. Do that with people you trust.

Additional tip: growing vegetables and fruits can be a real nightmare. You can absolutely start by just growing some basil or mint :)

10) Organise. Join leftist groups online, even if it's just to see what's being said, you don't even need to interact. Follow creators, repost and share their content. By doing that, you'll stay informed on group movements like strikes, protests and boycotts, which you can then participate in. It's very important you're connected to other ppl and the movements that are started !

11) Unionize. I'm very sorry I don't know the exact way unions work in the US, but if you can, join one. They will help you in times of needs, especially if you're a student or a worker. If you're not sure how to do that, absolutely ask around to people you know are very active politically, around you or online. People will help.

12) Stay. Informed. Follow independant papers and news outlet. If you can afford it, give them a dollar or two. They are fighting everyday for access to unbiased information for all, and sadly, their independance means that they rely almost entirely on donations and people simply engaging with what they put out.

If you can't access those: do not get your news from TV. Ever. Or anywhere else that has been bought by the far right. Sadly, the majority of TV channels are just the worst.

13) Share that information. Talk to those you trust and who are ready to listen to you, and tell them about what's happening. Get angry with them. Revolution stems from people coming together and realising that they're being used and profited off of. Share videos and posts relating to politics, especially informative videos.

And, most importantly: fact check. All of the time.

14) Go to protests ! If you've never been, i know it can be scary. But you can stay in the middle (don't go all the way to the front, that's where stuff can get heated) and scream and walk with everyone else. You'll meet people who, like you, want things to change. Capitalism wants you to stay as unconnected to others as possible, and that's a great way to fight that.

Sometimes, there are sites that have a planning for all protests happening in a city. Look up if one exists for yours

15) Create and strenghten community. I know i really struggled with this one, because it's so vague. But here's a few places you can start:

-Go and introduce yourself to your neighbours, if you deem it safe. Give them a little gift if you can afford it, like a pack of pasta.

-Make new friends, even if they aren't deep friendships. You need connections. Online or irl, both are fine- don't stay isolated.

-If you already have community, go check on them right now. Ask your friends how they're doing, and if they need anything- ask how they're being impacted by what's happening right now politically.

16) Look for ways to fuck over the institutions in easy ways. One example that went around tumblr a lot is letting dandelions grow in your backyard, because landlords fucking hate it. If you work in retail or fast food, cheat. Accidentally forget to scan the diapers. Put in 7 nuggets instead of 6.

17) Engage in art. MAKE art. Music, shitty paint drawings, craft, anything as long as you're being creative. Share it. If you feel like you can't do that, then support artists. Make a point to look up cool illustrations, and new music. Go to the cinema.

(edit: been told that it's very risky for walmart workers to not scan things, so beware.)

If you're an artist currently in an underpaid office job, please, by the love of god, be creative during office hours. You're underpaid, they do not deserve your full time and attention. Take 30 minutes to write that snippet you've been thinking about.

(and actually, if you're underpaid at all: do the minimum required. So that you can't be fired, but that's it. Any more effort is not worth it. Companies will never be thankful for what you do.)

18) Look up books that your state banned, and go read them. You can get them secondhand, or as pdfs online. (if anyone needs ressources, i will glady look for and share them.)

19) Seek education. There's a lot of youtube channels out there talking about educational subjects in a fun way. Some things the rich assholes who run the country specifically don't want you to learn more about are: biology, history and archeology, social and economic sciences. GO LEARN ABOUT THOSE.

And, actually, read books in general if you can. Yes, fanfics count !

The people in power don't want you to be educated. It's why they eviscerated the education system.

20) PIRATE. I cannot stress this enough, anything you can pirate (that isn't from small, indie creators, except if you absolutely can't afford it) do it. Download music illegally, torrent movies and games. If you want access to academical studies and papers, some writers will give them to you for free if you email them about it. There are also ways to go around paywalls.

21) Don't fall for the traps of "progressive brands". Lately, i've seen a lot of praise for Ben and Jerry's for openly supporting lgbtq rights and being globally anti-trump. They are still a brand. Avoid buying from any big names when you can. That being said, if you have to, check beforehand which ones and what their history is. Some are more evil than others.

Additional tip: a lot of brands you see in stores are actually owned by bigger brands. One prime example of this is Nestle, who are fucking evil, but they own a shitload of other big names. Be careful what you buy.

22) I hate to say this, but be prepared to defend yourself. Revolutions are never peaceful. You will get in danger. If you can, get in ok physical shape. If you can't, buy a gun. (Remember Alabama has a 99% acceptation rate, you can get one in 10 minutes.) I hate firearms, but the enemy will have them too. Arm yourself.

If none of those are available options to you, please, make sure you have someone around you that will be able to protect you, or a place where you can be safe. Whether you are disabled, a minor, or anything else. Don't put yourself in more danger than is necessary.

23) Last but not least, be kind. When someone cuts off a woman speaking, interrupt and give her the floor back. Shame those who think it's right to say bigoted shit in public. Listen to those around you. If you can't act, then remember to always have empathy for the homeless, for drug users, for immigrants. Understand they are people just like you. You are not immune to propaganda and prejudice, no matter who you are. Always question yourself and your biases.

(if you've read this far, please repost. We need this to reach as many people as possible)

I want to remind you that you're not alone. I know things seem hopeless, but the simple fact that you're reading this is proof it's not. I don't live in the US, but i'm supporting you as best i can from where i am, and sending you strenght.

If you have any questions, do ask away. I'll end on this image that's very dear to me:

[yarnabee]

THE DOCTOR HEADCANNON — BEING HIS PLAYTHING.

harley sawyer ( the doctor ) x reader

tags/warnings: sfw (15+), light gore, torture/impact, power imbalance, degradation, abusive behaviour, posessive behaviour, kidnapping i suppose

sawyer is a HUGE jerk to everyone, including to his own little precious plaything, you. of course, such a cold, dense body made out of metal wouldn't make sense if it had a heart, wouldn't it?

besides.. your timid reactions to his sick, little experiments were what piqued his interest in the first place. what a lovely sight it is to see a flesh roaming around his prison like a helpess, pathetic rat who lost its way home. whether you writhe, yelp, whine, sob, or scream.. it's all melody to his ears.

he loves purposefully letting you escape from his lair, making you think that there's still hope to escape his hellish prison. just as you thought you were free of his grasp, he'll pin you, his beloved trophy, down—his mechanical figure hovering over you, eyes daunting as it pierces towards your cowardly ones, squeezing your neck tightly with his iron first, making sure that you knew there's no use fighting someone much stronger than you are. oh, how he loves watching the glint of hope fading from your pupils—dulling them with fear instead. he'd purposefully taunt you, mocking you with his laugh as it echoes through the hallways, "you really thought you could escape me, hmm? what an interesting thing you are, little rat."

oh, how he loves turning every single thing into a game that he knew you'd lose from the very beginning. it's amusing to see how you'd react time to time, whether you try to fight back or whimper out of fear, he feasts on it nonetheless. he'll purposefully make you play hide and seek with him, taunt you with his creaking footsteps, then having his way with you once he got his fingers wrapped tightly around you—dragging you into his lair once again as your fights and cries means nothing to him. "don't try to fight, little rat. i know you're at least smart enough to understand why."

don't get him wrong, though. just because he's able to leave cuts and bruises all over your delicate skin doesn't mean any of those filthy creatures roaming outside has the right to leave a scratch on you, not even a single one. oh, how sawyer wouldn't even think twice to rip appart the limbs off those past experiments who still roams in the area, who dares to touch you without any permission. you're his plaything, and only his. no one else.

the doctor wants you to DEPEND on him, just like how yarnaby depends on him and obeys him like a God. he wants your pathetic self to see him as YOUR lifeline, as he purposefully brings the necessities you need such as food and medicines, his mechanical joints placing them gently next to you without saying anything. afterall, he needs his little lab rat on good condition to play with, no?

at times where he's not running any 'experiments' and 'games' on you, he always kept you inside of his lab—no contact is allowed without his permission. he'd occassionally let yarnaby roam around and get used up to your presence, but he won't let you or it get too attached to each other.

he barely speaks to you, his answers are either mockery or straight degradation. you never really ask him anything about his motives too, he never liked it when you were curious. "say, little rat, i'd be amused if you hadn't learn what happens to curious little rats who gets too nosy."

a little fun fact; the doctor can easily destroy you if he wanted to. he always lets you know through his grips—how he's controlling it steadilly, letting you know that if he puts just the littlest more effort into squeezing you, you'd have your bones crushed within seconds—and he makes sure that you always remember that at all times.

"now, little rat, go on and amuse me. let's see what else i can get out off you."

[hivemuthur]

Nothing's New - Ch.3.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit!

AU modern era, lovers to enemies to lovers, getting back together, a lot of angst, smut sort of present moving from this chapter forward

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6.

word count: 5,5K

tag: #nothings new

summary: Alright folks, some abrupt decisions are made in this chapter and I am foreshadowing Viktor's self-discovery (I will place a warning in the next chapter, as here it's still not that relevant). I will post some smut in a minute so you all don't get too sad :v

Cross-posted on AO3

—

You’ve spent the entire weekend stewing in your thoughts. Replaying the events over and over, from beginning to end, picking up pieces you might have missed before. It’s been a week since your last interaction with Viktor, and today is the final day for you to collect your things from his apartment.

You’ve been lying in bed, wondering if what happened last week was real or just an odd case of pareidolia—attaching meaning where there was none. Viktor’s anger, his cracking voice, the way he slumped back into the chair after you hurled fragments of conversation at each other. And yet, those fragments were more than anything that had happened between you in the past year.

People do such strange things after breakups. They throw themselves anywhere but into the breakup itself. They drink, get addicted to something, take up an extreme sport—or extreme hookups, which could also count as a sport—start smoking, dive into a new relationship, or become completely hopeless or cruel versions of themselves. And those versions do stupid, strange things.

Like giving your ex the keys to your apartment to pick up their stuff. Or being the said ex and going to your ex’s apartment to pick up your stuff. Utterly deranged. Utterly strange. Cruel on one side, hopeless on the other.

You have waited the entire weekend, sitting on pins. You haven’t seen Paul once, ignoring his texts and phone calls. Then, inevitably, Sunday noon has crept in, and you realise, that you have to go.

The journey is a drag in itself, but once you are in front of his apartment, you pause. You hold your breath as you slide the key into the lock. Getting here was torment. You thought the cursed triple-date restaurant ordeal was horrific, but you knew nothing. This is horrific. This is true terror. The terror of what’s on the other side of the door gnaws at you the whole way here, and now it gnaws harder, your hand frozen on the key, frozen in the lock.

When you hear it click, you release the trapped breath and close your eyes, stepping in. It’s dark. The day is muggy, with rain on and off, as the weather broke earlier in the week. The first licks of autumn hang in the air, and suddenly, you remember how freezing Viktor’s apartment is during the colder months. Your apartment. The apartment you lived in together. Whatever.

You take a timid stroll through the hallway—some pictures have disappeared from the walls. The ones of you and him. It’s expected, no reason to sulk. Moving on.

There it is: the lounge. The space where you’ve spent so much time reading, yapping, playing records, having sex on the couch, on the windowsill. Sleeping in front of the TV. So much time spent there alone, waiting, falling asleep with a book on your face, or staring expectantly at your phone. So many times you were abandoned here.

Viktor’s desk by the window is still covered in books, papers, and notes. He’s taken his computer away for the weekend, leaving behind a sharp square-shaped void outlined in dust where it had been. You draw a sad face in the dust with your finger, then hesitate, wondering if you should wipe it away so Viktor doesn’t notice.

You sit in his chair and spin yourself around, your feet dragging on the floor. No pictures to stare him in the face while he works, no particularly personal notes. No signs of Julia yet. No assprints in the layer of dust on his desk. Check.

You turn to the box he’s left for you in the middle of the room. Your name is scrawled angrily on it, as if Viktor forced himself not to write something like "CUNT" instead. It’s sealed, ready for you to grab and flee. But you want to see what remnants of you he’s collected, the things he so firmly believes need to be returned.

You rush to the kitchen and grab the first knife you see. Back to the box. A strange feeling churns inside you—something close to excitement, but also to dread.

With trembling hands, you slice the tape, reopening the wound. The box is stuffed with paper on top, meticulously packed. You pull the layers out and start digging.

Your books and clothes, mostly. You take them out one by one. Your T-shirt with "ALL MY BOOTS ARE FUCKED UP" written across it in huge letters. You used to sleep in it. You hadn’t realised it was left behind. It smells exactly of nothing—just a piece of cloth that’s been hanging in a closet for months. And yet, it smells faintly of Viktor, though maybe it’s just your imagination.

Books, each of them ones you love. Especially your first edition of The Lord of the Rings. Not the first edition, just the first one you ever got. A couple of notebooks with notes for work and personal scribbling. Your pin that says, “Bono in short legs shock.” Nothing in particular.

A few records are stuffed to the side. You wince at how he’s squeezed them in there and wonder if they’ve already melted and warped in the heat that was killing you not so long ago. And then, your heart sinks. Between the books and the clothes and an odd perfume bottle, lies a small box.

A gift you’d brought him: the tiniest chunk of meteorite you’d bought at the weirdest book convention you’d ever been to. It had been mixed with a natural minerals expo, an esoterica expo, and a reptile expo. Truly terrible. Until you spotted a man selling pieces of stars from his private collection. And you thought to yourself that if anyone on this planet deserved to receive a star for no occasion, it was Viktor.

He was speechless when you gave it to him. “Amazing,” he’d whispered, his eyes glinting as he weighed it in his hand. For something so small, it had felt so heavy. His heart had felt heavy too, with affection and devotion. He kissed you, kept kissing you until you were out of breath. It was wonderful.

And now it sits in your hand, discarded and abandoned. And it feels heavier than ever.

Forcing the tears back where they came from, you take a shaky breath and scramble up from your knees, clutching the box in your hand. You go to return the knife to where you’d taken it from in the kitchen, determined not to leave any sign of your snooping—except for the sad face drawn in the dust.

When you turn from the counter, it hits you violently in the face.

A Post-it note on the fridge. Viktor’s handwriting. Very old-fashioned. Very Viktor. More intimate than text messages. He’d left those for you once, before your intimacy had died. But this one isn’t for you.

“Miláčku, if you could grab my notebook on your way to work, I will be eternally grateful. V.”

In an instant, you forget your intention to leave no trace. You snap it from the fridge door, twisting it violently in your fingers. Something roars in your chest, and you can feel yourself spiralling. The need to go somewhere safe is overwhelming. So you go to the bedroom.

And there you are, confronted with another square-shaped void. The outline of where the bed used to be screams at you with the darker shade of wooden floor compared to the rest of the room. The empty space—what you remembered as small and cramped—now feels massive and vast.

You crumble onto the floor, squeezing the box with Viktor’s star in one hand and the wretched note in the other. There is no force that could stop your tears. Your lungs burn as you release a pathetic wail of a sob, granting yourself one of the ugliest cries you’ve had in months. The sun sets at some point.

Your chest and shoulders shake in spasms as your tears fall onto the piece of yellow paper, distorting the handwriting into blurred stains. This is the worst you have felt since the beginning. This is the bottom, surely. Crying in your ex’s apartment, on the spot where your bed used to be, clutching a word in your fist as if you refused to give it away to another woman. You refuse to give Viktor away to another woman. You refuse to give yourself to another man.

When you’ve run out of tears, you just stare at the note. For about ten minutes. No, for around twelve hours. You have no idea how much time has passed. You sit there curled up where the bed used to be, unable to move, unable to cry. The remnants of whatever composure you had when you stepped in are all gone.

You don’t even flinch when the door unlocks, and you hear footsteps and a sigh from the hallway. You are completely content to die here in your ignominy.

“Why are you still here?” Viktor’s voice echoes through the corridor, making him sound like an annoyed ghost. Hearing no response, he sighs again, louder this time, to emphasise how distressing your presence is to him. A caricature of a sigh, almost as if mocking someone else’s.

“I asked, why are you still—” He pauses when he sees you. “Are you alright?” The way his voice is laced with genuine concern makes you sick. It is the truest thing he has said to you in such a long time. One of the very few true things he has said in a year.

“What is this?” you ask, your voice utterly sad and so small. You open your shaking fists, and Viktor crouches awkwardly to make sense of what you are showing him. Once he sees the box and the wet, yellow paper, he understands.

“This,” he says calmly, “is something I no longer want. And this is a note to my girlfriend, Julia.”

His tone is devoid of emotion—quiet, calm, calculated. Inside, he is a storm. He left those two things intentionally, to stab you back. He had no idea the stabbing would work so well.

He planted them to stop feeling so fucking sodden. The rush of adrenaline at the thought of you finding those items was a momentary relief because he wasn’t able to tell you how stumbling upon your things jabbed at his heart. He wasn’t able to tell you that he actually played your records and read your books. Or that, when he found your T-shirt hanging in the wardrobe, hidden under his sweater—the one you stole all the time in winter—he died, just a little. How he hadn’t realised until he put the sweater on and discovered there was another skin underneath the wool. And that it still smelled of you after all this time. He wouldn’t tell you that he’d rather eat drywall than smell it again.

“Why is it saying what it’s saying?” you ask, your voice a sharp, trembling whisper, disbelief written all over your face. It’s so undignified to ask this. But dignity is a luxury you have to shed to get through this.

“Because I forgot my notebook for work the other day,” Viktor replies, his tone dispassionate, his eyes studying you like a scientist observing a failed experiment. This has truly backfired. Or rather, it has worked too well. In his wildest dreams, Viktor wouldn’t have dared to think he would find you curled up on the floor, your face swollen and defeated, exposing yourself to another blow.

“Do I have to wipe your face with it, so you answer my question?” you hiss, though the answer isn’t unexpected. The tiny dent made the last time you saw each other was, in the end, only a dent.

You wouldn’t even call it a crack—something you could peel off and peek inside. So, of course, you have to keep hitting.

His jaw tightens, but his voice remains cool, measured. “It is a pet name. A word you use for someone you are in love with.” He is hitting back. Your anger makes him angry. The fact that you are so angry and broken means that nothing has ended, nothing has resolved. And it boils the fear within him, and he attacks when he is afraid. Normally, it wouldn’t be a phrase to play with. But now, he is afraid.

The paper in your hand crunches loudly as you snap your fist shut. “It belongs to me,” you say in a dark tone, your voice brimming with equal parts defiance and anguish.

Viktor scoffs. “That’s rich. Nothing in here belongs to you, save for the trash you refuse to take out.” He stands up to accentuate his disgust. “Are you honestly being jealous right now?”

“No!” You shake your head and pick yourself up to level with him. “But this is just… cruel,” you shoot back, your voice rising, cracking under the weight of his dismissal.

“You will forgive me,” Viktor says with a bitter smile, “but I don’t follow. Which part of me doing the exact same thing that you are doing—moving on—is cruel?” He hasn’t moved on. He is standing stuck in one place. Julia is a distraction, and he knows it. And he knows it’s wrong to use someone like that, but he is only human. And there is no comfort in the idea of being eternally broken.

“You know exactly what I am talking about! Did you leave it here intentionally? Did you do this to hurt me?” Low. You are so low right now, the sound of you hitting this new bottom is echoing across your skull.

“You are so fucking full of yourself,” he spits, his voice dripping venom. “This is my house. It was on my fridge. As far as I remember, there was nothing in my fridge that you might possibly need to take with you.” Except for this exact note that I left there for you to see. That I left there to hurt you, and you are absolutely right about me because you know me better than I know myself.

“Why did you make me come here?” you demand, your voice trembling with rage and heartbreak.

“Do I look like a delivery man to you?” Another cold scoff. Fast, so fast, he’s afraid you are going to see.

“Viktor. This—this is not going to work the way you think it will. You can’t just get rid of me. I will be in your life. I—”

“No!” he roars, the crack in his composure finally showing. “I want you gone. You—you fucking abandoned me! You ran, as if I were some abusive bastard. You do not get the right to demand anything from me!”

You are actually being screamed at by Viktor. Your brain short-circuits, and you blink a couple of times.

“What about Jayce and Mel?” you counter, clutching at straws, desperate to find a thread that could keep you tethered to him. Why, though? Were you really going to be friends again?

“I don’t give a fuck about Mel. And if I can live without you, I can live without Jayce,” he snaps, his voice teetering between fury and despair.

“Viktor, you cannot be serious right now. Jayce is—”

“I would rip off my leg to rid myself of you,” he cuts you off, his voice raw and unfiltered, his accent thickening under the weight of his emotions. “The good one. There is nowhere I wouldn’t go to rid myself of you. I regret—”

“I could slap you for that,” you interrupt, your voice low and trembling with fury.

“I wish you would,” he shoots back, stepping closer, his face a mask of tortured defiance. “I wish you would do fucking anything other than run. I wish you had waited for me that evening and talked to me. I wish you didn’t wipe your face with a note. I wish you’d picked up the phone instead of turning it off. You ruined me. You stole so many months of my life. And you dare to be surprised that I have found someone.”

“You abandoned me first,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but the words hit him like a blow.

“Don’t,” he warns, his voice tight, his eyes closing as if to shield himself from the truth. He knows. He knows. But for once, when he needed you to be strong, you were weak, and he couldn’t forgive that. Just once, when he crumbled under the pressure of stress, under the pressure of investors gnawing at him and Jayce, he just wanted you to stay put. To just be the person he came back to, day after day, until it passed. And when you crumbled, he hated you because you made him hate himself for being weak as well.

“You abandoned me first,” you repeat, louder this time, the words escaping your lips like a confession. “I loved you so much.” There are so many bottoms yet to be discovered by you, you realise. Stacked in layers, only for you to be painfully peeled off, like the paper skin on shoulders burned in the sun.

“Stop,” he says again, his voice faltering, the dent cracking as you keep hitting. As you keep scratching and clawing your nails at it.

“I tried to stay, but I couldn’t,” you continue, tears spilling over your cheeks, your voice alien even to you.

“Stop this,” he pleads, stepping closer. His hand reaches out, hesitating in mid-air before brushing against your face. His touch is tentative, trembling. His thumb sweeps the tear running down your cheek. His face, morphing in anguish, rage, something you can’t read—hesitation, resignation—all of those things watercolour across his eyes, his eyebrows, his lopsided mouth, transforming from one into another second after second.

“It ripped me apart,” you whisper, and his hand drops, his head bowing under the leaden weight of it all.

You feel the fear of the moment escalating or fading—both wrong—as now this is the most real thing that has transpired between you in almost a year. Your breath hitches when Viktor steps closer. And then.

He rubs his face against yours, his breath trapped in his throat as his composure fades. You freeze. The feeling of his skin on yours—so familiar. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple jumping, and finally, his golden eyes meet yours. And then. And then.

And then.

The featherlight brush of his lips—not yet a kiss. A strangled movement, hesitant and unsure. Your face cupped in his hands, the pull of gravity still stronger than the pull of his arms. And you stay, fixed in your place, breathing in his scent.

The last time you kissed was a long time ago, save for the absent pecks you gave each other when coming and going. And before that, you kissed many times. But never like this. Never so uncertain, so afraid.

He holds the back of your head as if you were water. It isn’t just one kiss. It’s plenty of lingering, sad kisses—no tongue, just his soft lips gently pressing against yours, making tiny smacking sounds each time he retreats to start again.

The outside of him is calm, but his heart flutters in his chest, and you can feel it under your hands, fisting his sweater. You kiss him back with equal, fleeting tenderness. Your hands travel to his neck, to his cheeks, ghosting over the beauty marks on his face. In the deafening silence of this space, all you can hear is his shuddery breath.

So this is how it used to feel. You remember. The one tremendous feeling that was missing, that you had forgotten about. Belonging. It crawls back into the periphery of your nerves—the sensation of being taken and kept, falling from his mouth to yours. But this time, you take him back; you keep him back.

He closes his eyes and kisses you deeper, pulls you closer. The familiarity of it erases all his careful plans to kick you out of his life. It clouds his judgment as he does the unthinkable. His fingernails scrape faintly against your cheeks, and you open your mouth fully for him, allowing him to swallow you. Your tongues touch, and Viktor groans. Because it feels different than with other people, and he can’t deny it.

His cane clatters against the wood as he leans on you, pushing you toward the windowsill. His fingers now dig into your ribs, knocking the air out of your lungs. You hop up, open your legs, and he is between them immediately. Leaning on you, squeezing the back of your neck, his hands all over you, under your clothes, and you gasp for air, rutting your hips against him to feel more of him—all of him.

Your hands fumble with his shirt and sweater so you can touch the flat plane of his stomach. His belly button glues itself back to his spine as you slide your palms underneath. Your breaths grow heavy as his hands fist your hair and press you further into his face until you can’t breathe. He gropes you so hungrily it almost hurts; all the clothes you are wearing hurt your skin, and only Viktor’s skin can soothe this pain.

You desperately pull the layers between you up and press your stomach to his. His hips buck into yours, his cock straining in his pants, and he wants—he wants, he wants you so much he whimpers, rutting into your core, the pang of lust and need twisting in his lower belly.

It all falls back into place when he suddenly remembers what it’s like to be just blissfully fucking you, what it feels like to be inside you, and he is aching. He thrusts against you hysterically, cursing his clothes, his hands grabbing fistfuls of your flesh, and you wrap your legs around his hips, digging your thumbs into the hollow of his cheeks.

And it’s only when you moan out his name that he remembers something else—how hard it was to breathe when you left. How bad he felt under Mel’s worried gaze. And he knows he wouldn’t survive it if it were to happen again.

So he pauses, breathing heavily, resting his forehead against yours. He snarls and pulls away, and you feel something hooked out of your chest violently, leaving a gaping hole behind. He disappears from your space so fast you can only register him moving further between your blinks.

When you open your eyes again, you see him in the far corner of the room, hunched on his cane, chest heaving, turned so that he wouldn’t face you.

“Get out.” His voice is flat and rotten, as if someone has made him eat poison.

Wordlessly, you take the box with the star chunk from your pocket and place it on the windowsill before leaving the room. You drop your belongings back into the previously gutted box, not bothering to seal it back up, drop the keys into the bowl by the door, and leave with a loud thud echoing all the way back to the bedroom.

Viktor stands by the window, waiting to see you out on the street. His hand clasps against his mouth, trying to suppress a sob, his eyes fixed on you down there, so tiny, waving in a cab. It swallows you and takes you away, alongside your things.

It’s getting late, but he still calls Julia. He gives her the worst, most generic talk he can muster. He gives her a weak “It’s not you, it’s me,” which is, of course, a lie. Because it’s about her—not being you. And he can’t bear another woman crying in his apartment on that day, but he braces through it. He doesn’t tell her about the kiss. She cries a lot, but they part in peace. She’s understanding like that. And he feels about one stone lighter when she leaves.

But it’s not enough. One stone lighter, that’s all he feels after. His apartment is still heavy, still weighed down by the absence of you. He locks the door, leans against it for a moment, trying to breathe. The quiet settles over him, a suffocating silence that makes his chest tight. It’s not like he thought it would be. He should be relieved, shouldn’t he? He doesn’t have to juggle anyone’s emotions anymore, doesn’t have to pretend to be something he’s not. But all he can think about is you. How you left, how he watched you go, how he felt that piece of him break off and disappear when the door shut behind you.

He makes his way to the couch, sits down heavily, his hand finding its way to his lips. His fingers press against the spot where you kissed him, still lingering with the faint taste of you, the memory of your warmth. He mumbles a quiet apology, but it feels hollow, empty, like he’s talking to the walls.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, over and over, the words breaking him. “I love you. God, I love you...”

His breath catches on the last confession, as if saying it aloud will somehow make it real, but it only makes the absence feel sharper. It’s almost unbearable. The pain of not having you here, the pain of knowing he pushed you away. He presses his palm harder against his lips, as if trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping through his fingers. He feels completely gutted.

And you come back to Paul with your gutted box of things. He lets you in, no words said. He makes you tea and sits you on the couch. And you feel... so rotten, so evil for doing this. He cradles your head on his lap and makes quiet, soothing shushing sounds. When it starts to feel worse and worse, you snort up your sniffle and sit up.

“I have to talk to you,” you say in a cracked voice, Paul still smiling, still not realizing, because he would never expect you to do something so horrible.

He cocks his eyebrows and hums. “Oh-oh.”

“Paul, I’m serious,” you say, your voice trembling. The tea in your hands cools as the weight of what you’re about to tell him crushes you into the couch.

“You sure you want to do this now? Seems like you had a hard day already,” Paul replies, his tone gentle, though his gaze searches yours cautiously, as if bracing for something heavy. He’s ready for many things. He understands breakups are complicated. He knows how fresh this is when you started. And he’s told himself he’s ready for this kind of moment as well. Yet. Yet.

“I need to tell you something,” you insist, setting the tea down and folding your hands in your lap to stop them from shaking.

“Let me guess. Things are not as over between you and Viktor as you thought they were,” Paul says, leaning back, his face unreadable but his voice still gentle, knowing.

“I—” you stammer, feeling a lump rise in your throat. Were you this obvious?

“You don’t need a genius to know that. It was pretty fast… you and me. I am aware,” he continues, his voice soft but tinged with resignation, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his jumper. He’s actually hoping to be wrong, but well.

“We kissed,” you admit, the words spilling out like a confession you can’t hold back any longer. And then you wince as the memory somehow becomes real once you speak it out loud. But you can’t tell him what kind of kiss it was. That you’ve betrayed Paul about a million times today, with each tender and longing kiss Viktor gave you—and you gave back to him. Let him think it was just a kiss.

“Oh.” Paul freezes, his expression shifting ever so slightly, though you can’t tell if it’s surprise or hurt—or both.

“Oh?” you echo, your own voice quivering with uncertainty, afraid of what will follow.

“Well, I… I didn’t exactly expect you to say that,” he admits, running a hand through his hair, his movements deliberate, as if giving himself time to think.

“What did you think I was going to say?” you ask, your voice cracking, the weight of guilt pressing on your chest like a vice. The bottoms just keep coming.

“Oh, I don’t know. That you’re not ready to move in yet? I don’t know what I was thinking, really,” he says with a bitter laugh, his shoulders sagging as he looks away from you for the first time.

“Paul—” you start, but he cuts you off with a raised hand.

“Do you want to get back together with him?” he asks, his tone measured, though the tension in his jaw betrays him.

“No,” you say quickly, but the certainty in your voice wavers under his gaze. No. No, you don’t want to. You’re sure you don’t want to. And yet.

“Do you want to move in with me?” he asks, his voice quieter this time, almost cautious, as if he doesn’t want to hear the answer.

“I… don’t know,” you admit, your hands clenching into fists against your thighs, wishing you had an answer that would hurt less. No. You don’t want to.

“Do you still love him?” Paul’s question lingers in the air like a storm cloud. You swallow hard, your silence speaking louder than any words could. And you hate yourself for it. This poor, kind man. And what you did to him. Almost the exact same thing Viktor did to you.

Paul sighs, the sound heavy with understanding and pain. “Do you love me?”

“I—I don’t know,” you whisper, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes under the pressure of his scrutiny.

“Well,” Paul says, forcing a weak smile that makes his lines more prominent. “I guess that concludes it.”

“Paul—” you try again, desperate to say something, anything, to fix this.

“Don’t,” he interrupts, his voice breaking slightly. “I guess I should’ve known. Jesus, how have I been so stupid?”

“You’re not stupid. I am. I’m so sorry,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, your chest aching with regret. He looks so hurt. And it aches to be so broken that you can’t love a nice, beautiful, boring man. It would be so easy if it weren’t so hard.

“Is that all it was? Just a wait up before you can get back with him?”

“Paul, I’m not getting back with him. And no, it wasn’t. I just… don’t think it’s fair. To be with you, when I’m not…” anything in particular. Not in the relationship, not outside of it. Just complacent.

“Do you have any idea… what it feels like to be with someone who is in love with someone else, all the time?” He looks at you and the answer is written all over your face, then takes a long sigh. “I’ll call you a cab.”

You sit in silence for a while. You drink your cold tea. You stand up, pick up your box for it to be taken from your hands and carried by Paul to a cab. He slumps it onto your knees and closes the door before you can say ‘thank you.’ Then he pats the cab’s roof and sends you away. He will make you his own box, soon.

And you come back home, to your dark place, with one box, and another already anticipated, to stack one on top of the other. Thoughts clattering in your head. Viktor, the mess you’ve made, the confusion—all so harrowing.

You should feel something, shouldn’t you? Relief, maybe? But it’s just emptiness, the kind that fills every corner of your flat, each inch of it reminding you of what you’ve lost. You try to focus but your thoughts slip back to Viktor, to the kiss, to the way he touched you, like he still cared, like he still wanted you.

Sitting down on the bed, you press your fingers to your lips, the memory of his kiss burning there, so vivid, so real. You can almost feel him again. The warmth of his hands, the way his lips fit against yours like they were made to. Your chest tightens, the ache deepening. You close your eyes, leaning into the pillow, whispering, “I love you. I miss you so much,” to the fabric, as if hoping that saying it aloud will somehow help you to repent.

And in that quiet moment, when the dust settles down, the truth you've been running from finally breaks through. It was always there, under the surface, but now you admit it. Now, you let yourself feel it, how much indeed you love him and miss him.

[cambankromyy]

THE ISLAND LOOKOUT (pt.6): oops - (smau & irl au) childhood bsf!rafe cameron x thornton!reader

series masterlist; general masterlist; taglist

about my taglist; please use the link tagged at the top of this post and/or my pinned post! make sure your tags are on as well or else you will not be tagged!

part 5- part 6 - part 7

still half-awake, they kept scrolling, posting random shit and laughing at stuff that made no sense, the phone screen flashing like they weren’t even looking at it. fingers just moving, no real thought, the last post slipping out without even realizing it. by the time they finally passed out, they had no clue what they’d just set off—one post that was about to raise a lot of questions.

roni and rafe were out cold, while sarah (and everyone else) were blowing up their phones for answers.

they finally woke up after what felt like a bajillion calls from sarah, the ringtone blaring loud enough to make them realize it was real and not just part of their dream. rafe yelled to roni, still half asleep, "turn the alarm off!" she groggily checked her phone and blinked, "it's a call from sarah." she scrolled through her texts and shot up, "rafe, sarah's text yelling at us for something."

"you sure it’s not topper doing some shit 'bout ruthie?" rafe mumbled.

"no, it’s the gc with just us," roni replied.

"the one she uses to just get mad at us?" rafe chuckled, already knowing. roni nodded, her foot somehow right near rafe's face from the way they'd collapsed on the couch. he fake-bited it as she pulled it away, and she chuckled. "check your phone, idiot."

by the time you'd finished checking out the island lookout post, rafe had already gotten up, stretching like he hadn’t just woken up from the deepest nap of his life. you put your phone down, not letting the post affect you. you knew how you felt about rafe, and thats all that mattered. right?

"you wanna get lunch?" he said, snapping you out of thought.

"where?" you asked, still half-zoned out.

"diner?" he shrugged.

"fuck yeah, let’s go," you replied, grabbing your shoes and heading out the door.

when you got to the diner, the fog of the morning was still there, but something clicked in your head as you sat down. "shouldn’t we, like, post a follow-up or something?" you asked, scrolling through your phone.

"yeah, we should," rafe said with a grin. "can’t leave 'em hanging, can we?"

you raised an eyebrow, already tapping out the next post.

as rafe dropped you off at your house, the car fell into a comfortable silence. he pulled up to the curb and glanced over at you.

“Thanks for the ride, rafe,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“No problem, roni,” he replied with a smirk.

"love you, bye!" you said as you stepped out.

"love you too, see you soon." rafe waved as she closed the door.

as you got home, you quickly got yourself comfortable, and sat down on the bed. unlocking your phone, you clicked on the text notification from sarah that morning. remembering sarah had promised you a debrief, you texted her about last night.

tags under the cut ;)

tags: @italk2god @angelicameron @marleymarleymarleymarley, @queenvane64, @raeven-marie43 @idiotussupremus @sereneera @yesshewrites1 @inlovewithchriss @ethanthequeefqueen @amterasuu @popou61 @drewsstars @yannew @anothertimegirl @flvredcas @yootvi @mrsdrewstarkeyy @niaunofficial @cooper8224 @rafegetinmybed @pogueprincesa @6r4cie @adalia-lovelace @bee-43 @drewrry @masongetinmybed @defnotayonna @lcversvoid @my-name-is-baby @lolasangelz

[gooobraghhh]

I’ve successfully completely broken a mutual of mine and it has been so fun

I’ve talked about @the-kennel-keeper on here a few times but I think I really need to display the whole picture.

He started out like most of my followers, a puppy boy anon in my askbox that had a massive crush on me, but I had happened to follow his account along with like 10 others that were in the trans nsft tag when I first made this blog. He sent me an anonymous ask about realizing I followed him and how it got him so exited but he spam liked me like right before he sent it which made it exceedingly obvious who he was. That little pathetic mistake that was rip for being made fun of was the first thing that got me interested and his general tendency to accidentally humiliate himself or be easily tricked has remained extremely adorable. He finally dm’d me some message about how much he loves my blog since he wanted my direct attention and he did one of those ask games where one of the questions was like “who’s your tumbr crush?” and of course I asked him that one anonymously.

Surprise surprise he says me and at that point I’d sort of gathered too much dirt on him to let it go to waste and I really didn’t even try. We flirted, he talked about how he was only submissive in an extremely defiant, bratty way and how he basically can’t be tamed which just made him all the more alluring of a target for me. He did act like that for a while, but I built up to this perfect demeaning message where I revealed both of my little secrets on him and he just had no choice but to give in. The message ended with me telling him that I own him and I managed to get a “Yes ma’am” in response. He got so worked up that night that he finally got himself off after not being able to for months. I think that’s when I truly gained control over him.

Since then I’ve been slowly training him more and more. Learning exactly what gets him flustered and makes him tick. He started being more obedient, begging on command, singing my praises. A month or two later and the progress is undeniable. Hes cum for me a total of ~10 times (probably more than that, he couldn’t remember the exact number at first but I let him round down) 5 of which have been in the last 24 hours. He volunteered to send me audios of him jerking off and praising how good he’s been trained, he responds “yes ma’am” to basically every command I give him.

I know him so well that I can make him kind of shut down and give in from just a sentence or two of dirty talk. I mean I really pushed him today and yesterday and he couldn’t help but get himself off several times while recording it for me.

This man genuinely thought he was untamable, before talking to me he hadn’t even cum in months, but I’ve taken real good care of my new mutt. Thoroughly corrupted him into my perfect toy. Sometimes I even give him dirt on me just to give him a fighting chance but he’s so pathetic it doesn’t even matter. He’s had sex dreams about me and has chatted with me while around his friends, desperately trying to keep his composure.

So I’m starting a counter in my pinned of how many times he’s cum while thinking of me. It’s only fair I get to show off my hard work I think. We can all enjoy seeing how fucking pitifully submissive my mutt is.

And you can be jealous of him while that number ticks up because I know there’s a lot of you that’d kill to be in his position.

Exited to see how fast I can get keep the number increasing.

[lilbardrhi]

CoD RPer/Creator PSAs/Reminders (EDITED)

Roleplayers/Roleplay Blogs

It has been brought to my attention by a friend that some RP blogs (that I don't recognize the handles for, so I'm asuming they're fresh to the community) have been interacting with other fandom members posts, but not specifying if it's out of character or not.

As a roleplay blog, it is your responsibility to make sure creators are ok with you interacting, in-character, with their content. A lot of content creators have such posted somewhere on their blog whether or not they are ok with in-character interactions. It is your responsibility, as the interactor, to make sure you are specifying if you are interacting in-character or out based on the creator's contnent of which you are attempting to interact with.

Not everyone is ok with our (roleplayers') interactions in-character on their content. That is reansonable and should be respected. PLEASE check a creator's blog for their boundaries PRIOR to interacting with a roleplay blog handle. If you see no mention of rp blog in-character interaction (permission OR denial), please assume that is a NO/Do Not Interact.

I would like to note that no one is "in trouble", we just need to be aware - as a community - that some people in fandoms (not just CoD) don't even want the fan-made content, others just want art or fic, some want to roleplay or interact with the roleplay blogs, etc, but not all fandom members want every side of the fandom.

Creators/Creator Blogs

It is your responsibility to have your boundaries for interacting with your blog posted somewhere that is easily found on your blog. Yes, some would assume "no mention of consent to 'x' interaction listed" would mean "do not interact", but other people do not read a lack of boundary as such, unfortunately. I am hoping that this post, as the rp side of CoD Tumblr is still small, will reach as many roleplay blogs as possible.

I hope everyone is having a beautiful time zone! I will have my own boundaries/blog interactions up soon, but will say here that I am just fine with the roleplay blogs interacting with this blog ( @lilbardrhi ) in character. This statement will be included in my pinned post once I finish it and get it posted/pinned.

Roleplay blogs I have interacted with (in and out of character) or am following (not that y'all are doing this, I just want to make sure this is seen) tags to spread awareness: @ghost-askblog @askthemactav @shadow-5-05 @shadow-2-08 @shadowcompanys-medic-beaks @itsvargen @krueger-acc @brav0six @ask-private-141 @call-sign-songbird @konigisking @justradiospirit @ask-corporaltwins-141 @verytiredmedic @ask-theplaguedahlia @callsign-king @shadow5-7 @captain-after-dark @lieutenant-banks @lusttoke @callsign-trebletrouble @alejandro-ask @el-perro-rabiosa @callsign-kits @price-askblog @b1gm0n3yb1gg3rc4n3 @callsign-cups @ask-alejandro @keegan-askblog @generalshepherd-askblog @gaz-askblog @ask-alex-keller @valera-askblog @ask-roachsanderson @jeanzoriley-cod @ask-gaz @ask-soapmactavish @ask-phillip-graves @johnprice-asks @ask-philgraves @soap-askblog @konig-askbox <- Literally everyone I'm following. If I know you have different blogs for different characters, I only tagged one blog. If I don't know such information, I apologize for the multi-tag. Just trying to keep everyone on the same page. Notice that my tags for this post are not just "cod rp", but also "cod fanfic" and "cod fanart".

We need to work together to make sure boundaries are respected.

Adore you all! The Lil Bard, Rhi (previously backseatsoldier)

P.S. - If you are a minor running a roleplay blog, you have my express permission to reblog this post!!!

[angelsberrymilk]

I need more of Sammy and Soldier Boy.. pleaseee 🥹🥹🥹

Im going feral over them and I need to be satiated.

samboy (Sam winchester x soldier boy/ben)

aprox. 800 words

tags: +18 mdni. non-con (this is RAPE), abuse, crying, near-death experience, guilt, hallucination (?), feminization, general dark yucky stuff knowing soldier boy, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

soldier fucks Sam like he wants to kill him. like he wants to brand him from the inside out.

the room is filled with wet sounds, the continuous sound of their skin slapping together, ass to hips, lube messily spread between Sammy's thighs, his angry red cock swinging under him as Soldier boy holds him by the neck like an unruly dog, pinning him to the bed on his stomach, his back arched and his eyes rolled back.

his long legs are spread apart. his hole fluttering around Soldier boy's thick cock, stretching and squeezing around him. He can't help it. not when soldier boy feels warm on top of him, how he grunts and moans and praises him and calls him filthy names in the same breath, right in his ear, his beard rubbing his skin raw. He smells good too, musky and manly with a hint of sweat, so familiar, so close to home. too close to home.

It's so good that it hurts, and with each thrust Sammy's mind chips away and his memory gets weaker, forgetting how he even ended up in this position. Forgetting that Soldier Boy came in and threw a bottle of lube at him, telling him he has only 3 minutes to get ready. told him how it was nice of him to even give Sammy a heads up. he should consider himself lucky. that he should be thankful. Come on, Sammy, thank him. 

Thank him for rearranging your guts while you tried to fight him off. 

Thank him for holding you down as you couldn't even cry as he ripped your trousers off.

Thank him from the same mouth you're wailing and moaning on his cock. 

Sam tries to be quiet, to hold on until the man above him takes his fill, but he can't keep his mouth close, noises punched out of him, his tongue heavy in his mouth, he can't speak, the only sounds coming out of him are primal, pained and animalistic.

"Look at your little hole, boy am I glad I can fit in there without ripping your pussy, would be a shame if I did," Soldier boy says, satisfied beyond measure. a deathgrip on Sammy's tan waist, thumbing at the sweat-wet skin. 

Sam feels like he's going to pass out, his ears ringing, and he can't control his mouth. His tongue feels too heavy for his mouth, weak, as if he'd been stung by bees right in there, clogging his throat shut. Sam's eyes are wet and his cheeks even more so, he can taste blood and he can hear Dean calling out his name, the sun coming in from the windows bright and harsh. Sam isn't sure he's breathing, can't tell and then suddenly he feels cold and his eyes focus in a startling clarity. 

“Hey, don't you pass out on me, boy” Dean grits his teeth. 

Sam starts crying all over again, or maybe he's never stopped, or hasn't, who knows. His head was stuffed with marijuana smoke, the smell of beer, sweat, lube, mould and blood. 

Dean is mean. 

Dean is being mean to him. 

Sammy wants to whine, wants to cry big fat tears, push him off and wail in his babybrother voice, tell him how he almost killed him, how he lost himself and almost crushed his neck in his chemically enhanced strength. It wasn't Sammy's fault!

Sam suddenly feels hot from the inside, his eyes roll back and he thinks he's smiling thinking one of his organs finally ripped apart and is bleeding, that he'll float and go join his brother, in a heaven only built for them. 

He must be making an awful lot of noise when Dean is shaking him by the shoulders, “Calm down, Sammy,”

Sam feels his soul dragged back down to earth and he realises he was the one shaking, his stomach, chest and chin are sticky with his own cum. Sam's sight is blurry when he slowly lifts his head and looks down his body, expecting to see a puddle of blood but instead all he sees is Ben's soft cock, wet and pink, horrifyingly gorgeous. 

“Stop being a fucking pussy, I just came inside you, you're fine.” Ben says and Sam didn't even realise he was talking. 

Sam was about to say something but instead his eyes rolled back and that's the last thing he remembers before he passes out, sticky with cum, sweat and tears, and not a single drop of blood in sight, only the one in his mouth, from his own doing. sinful blood trying to choke him, end his wretched life to deliver the world from his existence.

tags cuz thank u sm for sharing my love for these two 💚

@klingyklaus @toasty-broski @28confusedthoughts @winchesterdefender @blackkmariah @106skin @redpopcat @arwenadreamer @nguyetdahuong @asongfortheunloved @rancidlovers @bcatwinchest @supfan67 @unabashedhonesty @hellfire-fist @nanacupid @arthrodira @loserluizard @jocelynfan @waywardsamdean @sastielbeltscene @sam-sinchester @masoena @winchestermylove @sammybeann @azrielrose @saltmonellas @boypussysam @monkibizznes @daddysboydean @notanotherthembo @i-already-know-im-going-2-hell @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @katamcauley @sams-princess-hair @redcl8ver @yuetyin940 @loserluizard @arthrodira @runawaydr3amerao3 @giulmu

[shilo-sumac]

(( Oh my goodness I woke up today with the worst migraine ever and felt miserable but then I got tagged in this multiple times and. a??? aaaa?????? instant change of mood i. idk what to even say

i get really worried that I'll forget someone I really like and they'll think I don't like them whenever I make lists like this but know if we've ever interacted I've likely read your pinned and scrolled your blog and really enjoy your posts and oc(or ocs) um um um I'll tag some now

@battle-subway-ghost and @subzeroiceshard are like my first friends i made on pokeirl so they might not "count" cuz theyre my friends but these two blogs are WHY i joined so like i gotta tag em.... they were my favorites before we were friends

@thatfailedpokemontrainer [even though our characters hate each other i love sprite and company]

@psyonicscream

@cherrytree-irl

@research-rewrite

@nanaboo-pumpkaboo

@plasma-king-official

@unovan-strange-being

@ariadosanon

@wishmaker-astra

AND LIKE ALL THE REDUX CHARACTERS' BLOGS LIKE @vulgrados-best and @yveltalreal and @aspens-dragons and @espers-n-espurrs and @victoria-vd AND MORE BUT THIS POST IS GETTING REALLY LONG

I KNOW for a fact theres more blogs I really like but I'm recovering from a flu and the headache is pounding still but like. aaaahh... happiness and love and peace on planet earth i love you i love you i love you))

// what if we all tagged our favorite blogs and went to check eachother's favorite blogs out as a result of tagging our favorite blogs. what then

[madmeks]

Her Space Marine: Part 1

Pairings: Titus x Mira

Author's note: 18+ Inspired by this ask requesting some jealous Titus. For backstory, Zev (the Mordian officer from Fantasy: Part 2 and Fantasy: Coda) was on the same troopship as Mira when it was lost in the warp storm. His regiment was folded into the same army group as hers when they emerged after the events of Space Marine 2.

Warnings: Sexual content. Unprotected sex. Mention of past partners.

Description: Seeing Mira and Zev share a moment together after a battle, Titus gets a little possessive.

Tagging: @beckyninja @yanagikou @flunkyofmalcador @finchly-tintinnabulation @kit-williams @justanothermemestrider @theemeraldwings @wormiusdebilius @74rn @severalpossiblemusiks @vspin @blukitty40k @nereidof40k If anyone would like to be tagged in future fics, please let me know :)

If you're interested in reading any of my earlier fics, check out my pinned post.

With a final rattling cough, the Chimera’s engine gave a last groan of overheated pistons and died. Mira gripped the sides of the cupola as the treads lost traction and the tank slowly slid back down the sandy hill before catching up on a boulder. Cursing, she called to her command squad crouched in the rear compartment.

“Everyone out! We’re on foot from here!”

Reaching above her, she threw open the turret hatch and clambered onto the top of the Chimera. Around the crippled vehicle troopers streamed up the hill. There were Cadians, Mordians, even two or three scattered Attilan Rough Riders weaving through the ranks on their mounts. All were headed to the heavy troop carriers waiting on the raised ferrocrete field that topped the hill. Above her, the night sky was lit with tracer fire from Hydra flak tanks firing on the move. Whenever the autocannons flashed, the retreating troops could see Imperial Thunderbolts dueling with Ork Fighta-Bommas, desperately trying to keep a flight path open for the last transports off Daedalus V.

The Imperium forces had been engaged with Votann miners who’d come to strip the world for resources for the past four months, and had been near victory when the first ork roks had entered the system. That had been three weeks ago. The greenskins had fallen upon Squat miner and Imperial trooper alike, pushing both forces into retreat off world.

Mira gathered her command squad and abandoned the Chimera, joining the ranks of Guardsmen trudging uphill. Just as they crested the top, she saw Major Sarkaana striding toward her, a Commissar at her side.

“Lieutenant! We need your troopers to form up here and dig in,” Sarkaana shouted over the din of the autocannons and the troop lander engines firing up. “General Montelion of the Mordian Iron Guard and his life company are still inbound. Orders from the Lord Marshall are that we stall the ork advance to give the General time to make it to the landers.”

Mira turned to look over the expanse of scrubland beyond the landing field. In the far distance, she could just make out the lights of ork vehicles as they advanced inexorably toward the last humans on the planet.

“Ma’am, my company is exhausted,” Mira said, turning back to the Major. “We’ve spent the last three days on a forced march to make it here in time.”

“Your company are soldiers and they will do as the God-Emperor wills,” growled the Commissar at Sarkaana’s side. Letting out a resigned breath, Mira saluted and turned back to form up her troopers.

***

“WAAAGH!!!”

The ork battle cry echoed through the hastily dug trench Mira’s company crouched in as the greenskin jumped over the lip and brought a buzzing orkish chainsword down on the Commissar’s head. The whirring blades split the man’s peaked hat and the skull beneath before Mira and Corporal Antioch’s combined lasfire brought the xenos down.

Cursing, Mira turned back to the line, raising her laspistol and firing down the hill at the orks clambering to get at the Crassus Assault Transport in Mordian colors that was lumbering its way up toward the landing field and the last troop carrier that remained waiting for them.

Out of the ork ranks, a missile corkscrewed crazily over the heads of the Cadians, flying straight into the open hatch of the landing craft. There was a moment of silence as the flare from the missile disappeared down the gullet of the massive ship, then a series of muffled explosions sounded. Suddenly, bits of the lander were flying everywhere as the reactor detonated.

The Cadians stared in disbelief for a moment at the destruction of their only escape offworld, until Sarkaana shouted ‘For the Emperor!’ Taking up the cry, the Cadians charged down the hill toward the embattled Crassus Transport, determined to take as many of the orks with them as they could.

Just before they met the ork line, the front rank of greenskins disappeared in a blossom of fire. Looking up, Mira saw a Thunderhawk in the blue livery of the Ultramarines hovering above them. Standing in the open ramp, armored and helmeted, was Titus with his squad. The space marines mowed down the second rank of orks in a hail of bolter fire, then leapt down to land amidst the Cadians as the Thunderhawk spun and headed for the landing pad.

Titus landed beside Mira with a ground-shaking thud. She smiled up at him as he inclined his helmed head toward her.

“Nice of you to drop in, Ultramarine.”

“You thought the Sons of Guilliman would pass up the chance to tear apart a few more of these greenskins, Lieutenant?” Even through the distortion of his vox grill, Mira could hear the amusement in his voice.

They were interrupted by the rear hatch of the Crassus thumping into the ground. Mordians filed out of the transport, lasguns leveled at the second wave of orks. They added their volley fire the the Cadians and Ultramarines, then all began a fighting withdrawal toward the waiting Thunderhawk. The space marines ushered the surviving troopers aboard and the gunship roared away from the surface.

Packed in among the Cadian and Mordian troopers in a hold designed to fit far fewer, Mira let out a weary sigh. She took her vox headset off, then let out a yelp as hands grabbed her and spun her around.

“Mira!”

She blinked, staring into a familiar face.

“Zev!”

Impulsively, Mira wrapped her arms around him. He surprised her by leaning in and capturing her lips with his own. Laughing, he pulled back, but kept her in the friendly embrace.

“We owe you, Mira! Your troops kept the way open for us. I doubt we’d have even made it to the base of the hill without you holding the line.”

Mira listened as Zev went on, recounting the tale of his company’s flight from the orks. It turned out old General Montelion had died of heart failure en route to the landing field. As Zev continued, Mira looked over his shoulder and noticed Titus standing near the front hatch of the Thunderhawk, unmoving. The eye lenses of his helmet were fixed solidly on the Mordian officer’s back, even as the gunship jostled its way free of Daedalus V’s atmosphere.

***

Aboard the orbiting Ultramarine strike cruiser, the surviving Cadians and Mordians rested as the ship followed the Imperial fleet out of the system.

After reporting to Major Sarkaana that her troopers were settled in an unused cargo bay, and promising Zev they’d catch up more later, Mira set out to look for Titus.

Despite being the liaison officer between the Cadian 8th and the Ultramarine forces accompanying the Astra Militarum troops, Mira had never actually been aboard their strike cruiser. Eventually, with the help of a servo skull and the muttered directions from a few chapter serfs, she finally found her way to Titus’ quarters.

Slipping inside and keying the door closed, she found kneeling before a small altar covered in purity seals. He was out of his armor, wearing a loose robe.

“Will you allow me to demonstrate my...appreciation...for the timely reinforcements, my lord?” she asked him, playfully drawing out the title.

Titus rose to his feet and turned to Mira, towering over her in the small room.

“Who was that man? The Mordian officer in the gunship?”

Mira blinked. “Zev? He’s an old friend. His regiment was on the toopship with mine when were lost in the warp storm.”

“He kissed you.”

“Ah, yes...well,” Mira glanced away for a moment. “He and I...well, as I’ve told you before, life in the Guard can be lonely. Sometimes you find...companions.”

“You’ve had sex with him,” Titus said.

Mira blushed. “Ahem...yes. A few times, years ago now. We’ve stayed friends, but we...oh!”

Mira yelped as Titus surged forward, his strong hands grasping under her ass and pulling her off the floor against his chest. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his hips as he moved with her, pressing her against the wall of the room. He tilted his head down to kiss her hungrily, his tongue probing between her lips as his hands squeezed and caressed her ass. Finally, he broke the kiss and stared into her eyes.

“I need you,” he growled. Through his robes, she felt his erection pressing under the curve of her ass.

Catching her breath, she grasped his face in her hands, leaning in to offer another kiss.

“Take me.”

Titus’s captured her lips passionately with his own, moaning almost desperately into her mouth. Between them he was working at the closure of her tunic, his large hands fumbling with the small fasteners. Frustrated, he curled his fingers into the material and pulled almost effortlessly, tearing it open.

Mira moaned against his mouth, her tongue sliding around his. She ground down against his cock poking against her ass, legs locked around him as she shrugged out of her tunic. Titus grabbed the straps of her tank top and bra, yanking both down her arms to bare her breasts.

“Need you,” he said again, now grinding his hips against her. He bent to circle his tongue around her nipple, licking and sucking. She threw her head back against the wall, running her fingers through her hair as she panted under his attention.

Grabbing her thighs, Titus turned and carried her to the opposite wall of the room, setting her on a small desk mounted to the wall. It was little more than night stand, but it was built for an Astartes, and carried her wait easily. Mira watched as he took a half step back and pulled his robe off. She stared hungrily at his massive form, eyes falling to his erection as it waved in front of him.

Titus knelt to pull off her boots, and Mira raised her ass for him so he could slide her pants and panties off in one smooth motion. She slipped her arms free of her tank top and bra, leaving them bunched around her waist as he stepped in again to kiss her. Yanking her to the edge of the desk, he slid a hand between her legs and ran a finger along her pussy, finding her already soaked. Moaning he reached down to grab his cock, fitting it against her and rubbing the head over back and forth over her clit.

“Need...you,” he choked out as he slid inside her. Mira’s let out a gasp as she felt him stretching her. Throwing her hands around his neck, she thrust her hips forward to meet him as he speared into her, trying to push him deeper.

Growling, he cupped her ass again, lifting her fully off the desk. He let her sink fully onto his shaft and stood in the center of the room. She moaned as she locked her legs around his hips, clinging to his neck, pussy tight around him as held her impaled on his cock.

“Mine,” he rumbled.

Mira met his gaze, seeing an intense desire burning behind his eyes. He stared back at her, leaning forward to capture her mouth in a kiss.

He began to fuck her then, hands moving to her waist and sliding her up and down against his thrusting hips. She closed her eyes as he bent to nip and bite at the tender flesh of her neck. One of his hands under her ass easily kept her supported as the other reached up to cradle the back of her neck. Her breasts flattened against his massive broad chest as he clutched her to him.

“Yes…” she moaned. She leaned back, hanging off his neck as he bucked against her. She rocked her hips over him, slamming down again and again. “You’re going to make me come, Titus.”

“Yes!” he gasped, fucking into her even faster. Mira gasped in pleasure as she bounced up and down on his shaft, her breasts bouncing on her chest as he drove her closer and closer to the edge.

“...Oh yes...Throne, Titus!...I’m coming!”

Her body went stiff, eyes closing as her pussy contracted and pulsed around him. As she came down from her orgasm, she opened her eyes to see him staring intently at her.

“You’re mine,” he growled. His thrusting began to pick up speed again. “Mine.”

Dazed with pleasure, she pulled herself against him again and kissed him. She squeezed with her legs, pressing her entire front to his as tightly she could, delighting in the feeling of his abs moving against her stomach. The feeling of her nipples dragging against his chest as her bounced her up and down on him. Breaking the kiss, she brought one hand to cradle his face.

“Yours,” she agreed.

“Yes! Fuck!” Titus grunted as his rhythm stuttered. He managed one more hard thrust and then began spurting thick ropes of cum into her. Feeling his cock pulsing inside her, Mira shuddered again as another orgasm overtook her.

Breathing hard, Titus stepped to his bed and sat down, keeping Mira in his lap. He drew her in for one long passionate kiss before he lay down on his back, drawing her down with him.

Continued in Part 2.

Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment or reblog. I'm new to writing fics, and love to see readers' reactions. :)

[griefabyss69]

Half Light

Written for @st-loveconfessions Acts of Kindness Month day 2: Ficlets inspired by Fanart! @spicyglitterfang's pin-up of Steve is one of my favorite things anyone has ever made in this fandom, so I wanted to write something for it! I hope you all enjoy it <3

Steddie | Rated: M | 2K | No CWs apply | Tags: Nude Modeling, Garfield - Freeform, Art Shows, Photographer Robin Buckley, Post-Canon, University, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, Flirting, Eddie Munson's Garfield mug

[ AO3 ] Summary

Robin is a photography student and Steve is a good friend. Eddie's a good friend too, for lending them something to help make Robin's vision real, and not sweating it when that something touches parts of Steve's body that... well.

He's a good friend.

Excerpt

“It’s not just about the subversion, Steve,” Robin declares as she does inscrutable things to her camera. “It’s also a love letter.”

���A love letter,” he repeats flatly. There’s cold tile under his bare ass and the window at his back isn’t any better. “You don’t love men, though.”

Robin peers through the camera and then stands up, coming over to mess with his hair. He’s glad they’re pretty used to each other, or having her this close while he’s naked would be... weird. It’s not like he’s excited, or worried about that, even if he’s trying not to think about the exhibitionist thrill he’s getting out of... well. Getting his picture taken like this. Modeling.

“Not that kind of love,” she mutters, distracted as she turns his head. “There. Don’t move, the light looks perfect.”

He’s not sure what makes the light more perfect with his head turned an inch further the right than it was, but he lets her do her thing. At least the Garfield mug covering his dick has warmed up to his body heat.

“Okay, now hold up the teapot like you’re offering to fill a cup,” Robin says, back behind the camera.

Steve gives her a warm smile—not even fake, not really—and holds the Garfield teapot up.

It’s a funny thing, kitschy. Eddie was reluctant to let them borrow it, and when he sees what they did to his mug Steve’s pretty sure he’s not going to forgive them, but... he’ll buy him a new one if he has to. Robin says it’ll be fine, that Eddie’s queer enough to appreciate sacrificing for art, or something. Steve secretly thinks she’s implying he’d like drinking out of a mug that had a dick in it.

“Great, okay, give your arm a break,” Robin says. “I don’t know if I got it. You look like you’re going to laugh.”

“Should I be more serious?” Steve asks, twisting his mouth around until he gets the smile out, letting it melt from his face.

“Yeah, let’s try that.”

[crowsofdarkness]

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Three

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

“UGLY! MOTHER! FUCKERS!,” I bellowed as my knife sliced through an alien's throat, three stabs, as they had me pinned to the ground. 

With a swift kick, it fell to the ground in a heap and I was back on my feet in a flash; just in time to send my knife into another alien's head. 

Thanos’ army was fast, strong, and not all that appealing to look at. It seemed that now matter how many we killed, hundreds more appeared. 

“Bucky?!” I yelled while looking around. 

In the midst of everything, I had become lost in the fray. Bucky and Steve were somewhere on the other end of the battlefield. My long hair was a mess, blowing in the winds, as I frantically looked around. I was fighting side by side with the many men of the Wakanda army. 

All too quick, my veins filled with fear and my skin tingled with death. 

Bucky. 

My head snapped to the left and this time, my own anger filled me as I saw the sight in front of me. 

Bucky was on the ground, alien on top of him, as he tried to fight it off of him with his small knife. Darkness took over my vision, clouding my judgement, and the all too familiar warmth spread to the tips of my fingers, sparking to life. 

I shot multiple balls of fire at the alien on top of Bucky, who watched in slight horror as it fell to ash around him. 

“SHE’S BACK!” Sam’s voice yelled into the coms. 

Blinking my eyes a view times, the darkness was gone and I was staring at Bucky’s concerned face. 

“Are you alright?” He questioned, cupping my chin. 

Time had stopped for a split second around us. 

“Never better,” I grinned while smacking my hands together. 

They sparked again, flames burning my finger tips. 

We fought for a few moments longer before coming to a halt when lighting struck around us, causing the fighting to stop. 

A few inches from me stood someone I hadn’t seen in a very, very long time. 

“Long time no see, Thor.” I smiled towards him. 

“Y/N? You changed your hair,” He smirked, ruffling my hair. 

I had almost forgotten that my powers changed it to a vibrant red. 

“You made some new friends?” I pointed towards the racoon and the walking tree. 

“This is my new friend Rocket and Tree,” he introduced. 

“I am Groot,” the tree said. 

I nodded. “I am Y/N L/N.” 

“Y/N! I could use some back up over here!” Steve’s voice yelled into the coms.

My feet sprinted over towards him, blasting away any aliens that got in the way. Steve stood in front of me, blood pouring from a wound on his lip and I gently wiped it away. 

I went to speak but felt myself getting pounced on from behind, head smacking hard against a rock. 

“Shit,” I groaned. 

Sharp teeth chomped towards my face and the blood pooling from my forehead caused my vision to fade, in and out. The drool from the alien dripped down on me, an indication that he was seconds away from ending it all. 

The alien was off before I could register that Steve had kicked him, sending him flying meters away. 

“Y/N,” he cooed while helping me to sit up.

“I’m alright,” I stated as I smacked his hands away. “I heal fast, remember.” 

Steve sighed, his fingers brushing against the open wound of my forehead. I couldn’t stop the loud hiss that fell from my lips. 

“GUYS! VISION NEEDS BACKUP!” Bruce’s voice rang through the coms. 

Steve hesitated while looking at me, weighing the decision in his mind. 

“Go, I’ll be fine,” I nodded. 

He was still apprehensive but when I set an alien ablaze that snuck up behind him, he knew that I was in fact alright. 

Once he left, I willed myself to my knees, trying to gain whatever strength I had left. This fight had taken so much out of me, not having to exert this much energy in such a long time, and I knew that this was it. 

“I’m going to die alone,” I muttered with a sigh. 

“You’re not alone.” 

Natasha helped me to my feet, brushing the dust off my shoulders. 

“Now, I know I didn’t teach you to give up so easily,” She tsked. 

“Moment of weakness,” I shrugged. 

Suddenly, the wind had picked up, circling around us with a soft breeze, the air shifted with an uneasy feeling. Natasha and I shared a knowing look and with a quick nod, we both ran towards Steve and Vision, who had joined us on the battlefield. 

“He’s here,” Vision spoke. 

I turned my back to them, speaking into my com. “Bucky, where are you?” 

Silence. 

“Damnit,” I cursed. 

Steve pulled me closer to him before speaking into his com. “Everyone in my position. We have in-coming.” 

A sudden portal opened in front of us, a giant purple titan stepping out of it. I gasped, the fear of knowing that there would be no way we could stop him loomed close. 

“That’s him,” Banner said. 

Steve looked at me, engaging his shield. “Eyes up. Stay sharp.” 

The flames burned with hate as I shot multiple fireballs towards Thanos, who had easily dodge them. His large hand wrapped around my throat, lifting me with ease. 

“Pathetic,” he spat, throwing me to the side. 

I landed against a tree with a loud, painful groan and I could hear Steve scream my name. My body lay defeated in the dirt, eyes watching as my friends tried to fight against Thanos, only to fail. 

Bucky’s screams came from the bushes, gun firing at Thanos. 

“Bucky!” I yelled, watching him getting thrown in front of me. 

Tired hands and feet crawled over towards him, turning his heavy body over so I could look in his eyes. 

“Are you alright?” I pondered, brushing the hair out of his face. 

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbled. 

His vibranium fingers wiped the blood from my head. 

“I’m okay,” I reassured him with a soft kiss. 

Bucky let out a loan groan, the pain of the fight catching up to him. “I’m starting to think we should have stayed in bed.” 

The giggle that fell through my lips was cut short as the screams of Wanda filled the air. My full attention was on her as I watched Thanos bring Vision back to life, only to end it just as quick, pulling the mind stone from him. Vision’s body fell to a heap on the ground, right next to Wanda. 

“No,” I trembled, tears welled in my eyes.

Thanos stood tall, all six stones in hand. Thor, however, had arrived out of nowhere, laying his axe in Thanos’ chest. But it didn’t matter, no matter how deep Thor dug his axe into Thanos. 

“You should have gone for the head,” Thanos said. 

Before anyone could register what happened, he raised his hand with a quick snap. 

“NO!” I bellowed. 

Thanos’ hand burned, his gauntlet almost to ash, as the aftermath of what he did started to lay around us. 

“What did you do?!” Thor demanded. 

As fast as he arrived, Thanos was gone. 

Steve stumbled his way over to Bucky and I, helping us to our feet. After giving us a quick once over, he turned his attention to Thor. 

“Where did he go?” He questioned. 

“Thor, where did he go?!” I fumed. 

“Y/N?” 

Bucky’s voice was filled with fear and worry as he spoke my name; it came off so quiet from his lips that I almost hadn’t heard.

Steve and I both turned our attention towards Bucky, who suddenly was dusting away with the wind, body disappearing. 

“BUCKY!” I yelled running towards him. 

My knees fell to the ground, hands spreading through the ashes of where Bucky once lay. 

“NO, BUCKY!” 

My scream echoed throughout the forest, the high pitch banshee-like yell causing whatever birds there were left to flock away from me. Fire shot from my hands, setting the grass and trees around us a blaze in a warm fire. Everyone winced at the sound of my yells, cries for my lost love, as I buried myself deeper into the ground, hoping that this was a bad dream. Bucky was still here, he hadn’t left me. 

A loud, painful scream had clawed its way through the tough confines of my throat as I doubled over in pain to clutch my stomach. It felt like my insides were being ripped out and with a choking sob, I spit piles of dusty ash to the ground. My fingers shook as I dug into the ground, the realization of what happened coming to light. 

I had now lost every single part of Bucky in the snap. Not only was he gone but what I was growing inside of me had vanished before I even knew it was there.

I was so engrossed in my own pain that I hadn't noticed others had disappeared as well. Until Steve pulled me from the ground, into his chest. 

My cries came out muffled against his suit as I screamed and kicked against him. “He’s not gone. He can’t be!” 

Steve cupped my cheeks, forcing my broken gaze to his. “It’s okay. I’m here.” 

Knuckles turned white as I clutched onto him with whatever strength I had left, fearing that he would leave me too. 

“What do we do now?” Natasha asked. 

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted before hushing my cries with a soft kiss to the top of my head. 

For once in his entire life, Steve didn’t have a plan and that absolutely terrified him. 

[my-debauchery]

Nothing.

idol!yuta × afab!reader

idol!yuta × afab!reader

g`fluff, smut

cw`dom!yuta, sub!reader, crossdressing, kissing, spitting, facefucking, cumeating(f&m), oral(f. & m.), mommy kink, slapping, unconsciousness (all is consensual), squirting, explicit content, unprotected sex, fingering

wc`3.2k

A/N:this was somewhat inspired by "Nothing On Me" by Kai. as always, constructive criticism is more than welcome. if you see mistakes in cw tagging, please, let me know.

you were seating at the dressing table, trying to properly curl your hair for the evening ahead. getting hotter by the minute from the effort and the heat of the iron.

as you finished the last strand of hair and pinned it up to cool, you lift your eyes up and see yuta in the reflection staring at you 'can you please open the window? i want to cool down before doing my makeup' you smiled and turned to face him.

yuta silently moves towards your bed and places his bag on it. he fulfills your request and you relish in the icy air filling the room.

you thank him and turn back to the mirror. you hear yuta approaching you while you're rummaging in your makeup drawer. he places his hands on your shoulders and you look up at him once again.

he gives you a unreadable look and kneels next to you. you start turning towards him, but he stops you. so you keep looking at each other though the mirror.

'would you mind doing my makeup too?' he asks you somewhat hesitantly 'sure' you say as you continue to look through your makeup collection again 'but i hope you understand that i never did male makeup, so it might look a bit strange. also i probably won't be able to do your skin, our shades don't match' you tease him.

'you didn't understand me' you hear 'huh?' you meet his eyes full of worries 'what do you mean then?' you inquire. he gets up and brings over his bag over to you.

he opens it up and takes stuff out places them onto the table 'i ordered this and hoped you would do my makeup how you do yours. female style, you know? i even got a foundation in my shade' he shows you a bottle of it and places it back on the table 'i also got a matching dress to yours for me to wear for our date'

'you want me to do your makeup like for a woman and to wear a dress for our date?' you ask carefully. your boyfriend just nods weakly.

yuta watches you get up and quickly go to the bathroom and the dread starts to sink in. he was terrified of what he presumes is happening right now. that you going to be horrified and want to leave him. that so far things were far too good to be true. that you were too accepting, easygoing and he crossed the line.

it was one thing to have kinks and introduce som/sub dynamics into the relationship, far easier to learn and adjust to. but completely other when your boyfriend wants to dress like a woman, who would want that?

yuta was trying to come up with something, anything to calm you down and convince you to not leave him. but after hearing some noise from the bathroom, he saw you waltz back into the bedroom with giddiness and a fluffy kuromi hairband in your hands.

'do you have a specific look in mind or do you want me to freestyle it? or as we going to have matching dresses, do you want to have matching makeup looks? to go all out?' you question while looking through the products he bought.

he grabs your hand 'you don't mind?' he asks and looks inquisitively at you. you look confused and he clarifies 'about me wearing feminine makeup and woman's clothes? that i want us to go out like that together, publicly?'

you giggle and answer 'no. i don't care in what form you come, yuta. your core doesn't change, even if you're a shapeless blob. i know that i love you and you love me, what else could possibly matter? as for the publicity aspect, i only worry that someone might recognize you, but i can try to make you unrecognizable. power of makeup and all that jazz, you know? also we go out at midnight on a walk, so we should be fine' you finish and hold his face gently.

he nods 'thank you. with you i truly feel like i'm alive for the first time' you lean in and give him a chaste kiss on the lips with a wide toothy grin 'now, do you want a full fantasy of a makeup shop experience?'

yuta laughs 'no. i've had plenty of that. i want a fantasy of my girlfriend doing my makeup. preferably while sitting on my lap' he sits down and pulls in to straddle him.

you snort and ask if he has any reference pictures for his look. he shows you different gothic style makeup looks and tells you to do what you think would look best. he relaxes and circles you waist with his arms. so you get to work.

once you're done you hold up a mirror so yuta can see himself 'do you like it? i must say, i think i've outdone myself. you look like a goth baddie'you get up to put away his stuff and a thought hits you 'oh my god! i'll do my makeup like an insta baddie and we can be 2 baddies, just no porsche' you laugh and look up a reference for yourself.

suddenly yuta hugs you from the back and whispers into the nape of your neck 'i love it, thank you' you smile 'go get changed and i'll do my makeup in the meantime, okay?' he nods and walks off.

you do your makeup and let down your curls. you brush them out and spray on your favorite perfume after changing into your own dress. you go to the leaving room in search of yuta, but once you see him, you are speechless.

he is wearing a satin midnight blue slip dress with strings that can shorten it on both sides, a fluffy black cardigan and a glossy black butterfly shaped hair clip on one side 'how do i look? it's not too much, right?' he asks and you shake your head like a dummy.

'you don't look like a baddie. you look like a mommy' you say almost in a trance. yuta looks at your glazed eyes and scoffs 'misbehave and i'll punish you like one' you feel a hot rush and blur out without thinking 'yes, mommy' yuta gives you a warning look and you try to calm yourself down.

you both get your shoes and coats on and head out of the apartment. while standing in the elevator yuta holds your hand and intertwines your fingers. he squeezes it slightly 'remember to behave. you are my good girl, right?' you nod enthusiastically and he kisses your cheek.

you spend next hour just walking around enjoying pretty snowfall and each other's company. but you can't really look at anything except your lovely boyfriend, fantasizing about him taking you in the dark alleyway while calling him mommy or letting him use your mouth.

but you know good things will come to those who wait and you could wait for eternity if it meant waiting for him. you are his good girl after all.

you're nearing your apartment complex and you feel a craving for something sweet, so you pull yuta towards a convince store 'do you want me to give you a face mask?' yuta thought for a moment and shakes his head. he gives you his card 'go get yourself a treat. i'll wait here' you take it and go inside.

you book it straight for your favorite and move to the front to pay 'what a lovely pair you two are' cashier, an old woman mentions, you look up at her in alarm 'what?'

she smiles 'your sister and you. sure your sister's style is a bit unconventional, but i mean she is still beautiful' you smile and relief washes over you, and when a naughty thought pops in 'it's my mommy' you smile even wider 'mommy?' cashier glances outside at yuta again, who now is watching you.

'doesn't she look grate? she still buys me sweet treats, even though i'm all grow up now' you say and swipe yuta's card 'does she? i guess you have a great mommy, don't you?' smile again 'i do. she is the best. have a good night' you step outside and meet yuta's suspicious gaze.

'what did you talk about? you looked worried for a moment? is everything alright?' he tries to look into your eyes, but you avoid his eyes and just munch on your sweet treat 'nothing' you say nonchalantly.

at least you think you said that nonchalantly, but to yuta you look pleased and there is a mischievous twinkle in your eyes once you turn to him. he knows you lying, but he'll let you have your treat for now.

once you approach the buildings entrance, yuta asks you again 'still i'm interested, what were you talking about with the cashier? hmm' he looks up ahead and you know from his tone, that if you don't fess up you'll be in trouble.

hesitantly you tell him during your elevator ride up 'good girl' he tells you while caressing your check. foolishly you relax and happily skip to the front door of the apartment.

however, the mood shifts drastically once the door closes and it pings locked.

yuta pushes you against the mirror hanging next to the front door. your forehead is touching it's cold surface while yuta cages you from behind. one of his arms is circling you, preventing your movement, while the other is covering and lightly squeezing the lower half of your face 'did you think that you were being funny?'

he stares you down in the mirror and you shake your head 'did you think at all before opening your mouth?' he spoke in to your left ear. you shook in his grasp. you start overheating from your coat and yuta's close proximity, but an undeniable feeling of arousel starts to creep.

he turns you around gripping you face again and your shoulder 'maybe you should use your mouth for something better then risky smalltalk' he releases you and starts taking his coat off 'strip.

you move at the speed of lightning throwing clothes all around, while yuta gracefully takes off everything except the dress. you stand there naked shaking like a leaf, not from nerves but from the sheer desire for your boyfriend to have you.

'kneel.' you gently lower yourself right there and look up at him. yuta is towering over you in all his glory. you can see his dick bulging up underneath the dress and the visual makes you squeeze your thighs together.

'open up' he gently holds your chin and you stick your tongue out. he lets his spit slowly drip down into your mouth, all the while holding your gaze.

he lets go of your face and you remain in the same position. yuta lifts his dress up, revealing his fully hard dick and ties strings on one side.

you start by spreading his spit all over with your tongue and gently massaging his balls. you suck on his tip and keep massaging him. after couple sucks you start taking half of him in. going up and down his shaft, flattening your tongue on down motion and licking at top without releasing the tip from your mouth, while still massaging his balls with your hands.

yuta is grunting lowly above you. his left hand is on your head massaging your scalp 'you are doing so well. i know this is all you could think about during our walk. probably something even dirtier, like me fucking you in the back alleyway. and if i wanted to you'd let me, right? you are truly my good girl. good, but dirty and downright depraved little girl, aren't you?' you hum happily and take his dick all the way down.

your nose is pressing against his belly and you squeeze his balls harder and start humming to create a vibration' oh, shit! hold on baby' and you let go of him. you place your hands on his thighs and relax your throat even farther.

yuta grabs your head with both hands and starts fucking your mouth without holdbacks. you breath through your nose and let yourself be completely consumed by him. he goes at a brutal pace and tears foarm in your eyes. you can feel your pussy pulsating and you squeeze your thighs even harder. tears stream down and you can't see anything. you just feel.

he starts growling on top of you and somehow go even faster 'is this what you wanted, huh? for mommy to punish you? am i not giving you enough attention, so you misbehave for me to notice you? are you such a desperate little slut, hmm?'

yuta fully stops and keeps you pressed all the down and starts cuming down your throat. you feel lightheaded. fully enveloped by his smell and taste. you close your eyes and let go of his legs 'look at me. don't you remember? mommy wants you to always look in her eyes' you look at him and start shaking like a dog in heat. his eyes are full of raw desire to fully consume you.

and yuta sees the same in yours.

once he's done cumming he lets go of your head and gently ease you of himself. you lay down on your back breathing heavily. yuta squats in front of you and nudges your legs appart. he swipes his hand against your pussy and lifts it up for you to see. as he spreads his fingers appart, you can see your arousel stringing between them.

you start to turn to get on all fours but yuta stops you 'go to your place'

"your place" is a pool of soft blankets and pillows. placed next to the floor length mirrors in the leaving room he set up in his apartment for you. all because you enjoy to just look out the window at night while listening to the music. or lay around there waiting for him to come back home. all the blankets and pillows are in your favorite colors and designs, just for you.

you stretch your arms towards him to help you get up, but he shakes his head and gates up by himself 'crawl.' you don't need to be told twice and get moving. slowly crawling to the windows, acutely aware of his heavy gaze on you.

once you make it, you turn around and look at him, but he is right behind you. the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and of your labored breaths prevented you hearing his movements.

he manhandles you into a mating press and you grab the back of your things. you expect him to fuck you now, but to your horror he slowly lowers his face towards your vagaina. you knew that you are in for a wild ride now and that being naughty is not for you.

yuta speards your pussy lips apart and spits on it. you feel it pool and drip down to your anus. he blows on it and you shudder from the temperature change.

he starts to gently massage spreading mixture of your arousel and his spit all around. from your pubic mound down to your ass without touching your clit. you start to shake from the anticipation, knowing he won't be calm and gentle for long.

you hear the sound of the slap first and the sting comes after. he slapped your clit and you whined. he slapped it again and again. you just keep on whining and sniffling. after several slaps you see that you pussy is all red and puffy. yuta dives right in.

you can't focus on any one thing in particular. you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. your skin is slippery from the sweat and it's hard to hold your legs pressed to your chest. and most overwhelming is yuta's devouring of your sipping heat.

he looks almost mad. his freshly dyed hair a mess. face all red and glistening with your release. and a stare of a rabied dog that is feeding for the first time in forever. he is looking straight at your and amid all the pleasure you feel almost shy.

but then he plunges three fingers in your fluttering hole and you forget all about it. while his tongue is lapping at your clit at an inhumane speed, his fingers play with your g-spot agonizingly slow. as you started to seize up yuta started to jab his fingers at it and suck on your clit with fool force.

the familiar pressure starts to build and then white, hot flush takes over you as you squirt into yuta's mouth.

your grip on your legs slips. yuta grabs your legs and pushes. you completely lose it and just shake from cumming and overstimulation, because yuta didn't let up and continued lapping up your juices and sucking on your pussy.

you come around and feel yuta's head still stuck between your thighs. both of you on your sides with you facing the window, looking over the night cityscape.

another orgasm hits you and you moan long and loud. you can feel just how soar you are. yuta turns you onto your back and kneels between your outstretched legs.

you can see your juices dripping down his chin, neck and onto his chest. his makeup completely ruined with mascara runs like in classic rom-com and lipstick gone. he is fully naked and hard. you manage to whisper out 'dress?'

'it got all sticky so I took it off. how do you feel?' he questioned as he lifted you up to a sitting position 'soar and empty' you can see that he cumed all over the blanket 'won't mommy feel me up?' you croacked out and batted your lashes.

yuta chuckles and nodes 'of course ,my good kitten deserves it. after all you did so well' he wipes hair away from your face and kisses your forehead.

he lays down and pulls you on top of him. first you kneel to straddle him, but he pulls you flush against him while keeping your legs in a kneeling position.

yuta carefully enters you, keeping in mind your soar body. once you're down to a hilt you both sigh in relief. he plants his feet on the floor and gently starts rocking into you.

he is slow and deliberate with his strokes. pleasure comes in waves, like you're laying on the shore with warm waves washing over your body again and again.

you both circle each with your arms 'you're my lovely puppy, aren't you? you always do so well for me. even if you're naughty you take your punishment like a champ. my little cutie. you are ready for me to fill you up?' you nod into his chest and let go of your own release.

you feel his warm seed fill you and all consuming bliss takes over your entire being. it spreads from your stomach all over like a liquid sunshine.

while basking in your afterglow you ask yuta 'can you keep your dress on next time?' he thinks for a moment 'can't make any promises'

'why not?' he turns you by you chin to face him, his eyes are full of devotion 'i want nothing on me but you'

[sonic-au-collision]

SONIC AU SPOTLIGHT

Hello there! Do you have an AU that's pretty much your passion project? You just love and adore this AU you've worked so hard on and you hope others will love it as much as you do as well. But then when you post it, it's like you've sent your AU on a trip to the void and it doesn't get as much attention as you hoped. And of course, you still love creating content for your AU!! But you can't help but feel like that others just don't care about your AU?

Well! I'm here to tell you that there ARE people who care and absolutely adore your AU. Maybe they just don't know it yet because they haven't seen it yet! Speaking from experience, I have found AUs that have been ongoing for years with the exact concepts I've been looking for, but I just didn't know about that the AU existed for the longest time. That's why I created Sonic AU Collision and that's why I'm continuing the spirit of the event through AU Spotlights!! To share and discover the many AUs we've created in this fandom!

Now, you may have noticed that while the Collision is inactive, this blog has been acting as a showcase of sorts by reblogging Sonic AUs of all kinds. These are found under #world entry log instead of #au collision propaganda since they may look kinda similar. The Spotlight takes one step further to ensure that your AU is actually seen among the many other AUs found on this blog. Every other Saturday, the regular showcase queue will be paused and this blog will post and reblog pieces ONLY FOR THE AU IN THE SPOTLIGHT!!

If you're interested, then go on and fill out the form below! If you have multiple AUs, go on and fill out the form again for each AU if you'd like but do not do repeats.

THERE ARE CONDITIONS!! READ THE NEXT PART CAREFULLY!!

In order to be chosen for the spotlight, you need show show other AUs some support first. I ask that you do something to share your appreciation for another person's AU at least three times to submit one AU of your own. You can compliment the same person's AUs three times or compliment three different people. You gotta give some to get some. You could make fanart or fanfics for their AU. Really, whatever you want to show your support! If you spend an extremely high level on time and effort, then that can count as all three of your pieces. More information on this will be on the form itself. You are able to submit the form first and do the three things after if you want.

Now, moving onto your AU. All that's required for the form is the AU's name and a description. The description can be as long or as short as you like. Whatever you write will be placed on your spotlight's pinned post!

Other things you can include but are not required are:

Cover Art/Art Representing Your AU/AU Logo

AU/Character References - If you still want an image to go along with your description but don't have one, the mod will use the references you provide to create something for you. (The level of "completeness" may vary and will most likely be uncolored lined art)

Links! These can be for your AU's tag, masterpost, comic blog, etc.

Same rules as the collision apply.

Have fun!

SUBMIT YOUR AU TO BE FEATURED IN THE SPOTLIGHT HERE!!

[creaturefeaster]

Hello, welcome to my blog. I am known as Wire or Chicken(stab), my pronouns are they/them, and I am in my late 20's. In this pinned post I will tell you everything I think you need to know about me and my blog!

♦

I post mostly about my own original projects and characters, but sometimes I like to reblog photography and other cool art I come across. I share a lot of my art here as of late, but I do have an art blog that you can find here. You'll need to wipe the dust off of it.

I often struggle with tone, and abbreviated tone tags only make things more difficult for me. Please be clear with your intentions around me, and use non-abbreviated words when possible. Lol, omg, btw, etc., idk, and other such acronyms are okay, but asks with tone tags will be ignored and/or deleted.

I do not use any other social media like twitter, instagram, etc. Aside from picarto where I like to stream, and youtube, you will only find me here on tumblr. I use discord, but not regularly. If we connect, feel free to ask me for my discord handle ^_^.

I like to answer asks sent to me, but sometimes I get a lot and do not end up seeing all of them. I won't be upset if you send me multiple asks, but please do not over-spam me with the same questions/requests. Asks that do not respect my no-list (see bottom of this post) will be deleted, and repeat instances will be blocked. Thank you for respecting my boundaries.

This is not a dedicated NSFW blog, but I do touch into NSFW subjects from time to time. Posts of this nature will always be tagged accordingly with #peek if you dare. Please do not ask or search my blog for NSFW-related matters if you are under the age of 18.

I do not categorize most tags on my blog. I like to talk in my tags, but save for posts relating to specific projects of mine, most posts will not be tagged accordingly. My project tags are #brambleramble (Colorquest) and #tmmomr.

I bounce between my projects and interests a lot. If you are invested in my work, I promise you there will always be plenty of it; What I cannot promise is that projects will ever be done in a timely manner.

CURRENT INTERESTS: • My original characters • Birds / animals in general • Colorful collectables • Drawing & writing • Western movies • Weather • Strategy and management sim games • Guitar / piano • Math

NO-LIST (Please do not talk to me about): • South Park / HP • Hazbin / Helluva • Mental diagnosis • Politics • Points of argument / discourse

[emmg]

sending this anon bc im shy and about to be deranged in ur inbox but i just wanted to say thanks for sharing your Emmrich doesn’t realize he’s a sugar daddy au bc not only is it genuinely delightful (its probably my favorite thing currently updating on ao3, I’m printing out every update grinding it into a powder and snorting it, it consumes almost all of my waking thoughts), but it also has me thinking about a swapped version where Emmrich assumes that rook wants a sugar daddy, someone to bankroll her life while she gets her phd, buy her nice things and pretty clothes, take her to fancy restaurants. (And he’s willing bc this Emmrich is 27% lonelier and 14% less well adjusted and he 100% catches serious feelings almost immediately but tells himself that everything will be fine.) When really rook just wanted to fuck her friends hot PHD supervisor but omg he’s actually really sweet and now they’re dating and in love and he’s totally going to propose when she graduates, he only pays for everything bc he’s a gentleman and he buys her clothes for their dates bc she’s not familiar with the restaurant dress codes.

Will I ever write it? Alas, no I shall not bc I can’t pin down the details or decide what direction i want to take it. (How does the misunderstanding begin? How does it last so long? What does Emmrich tell himself to convince himself that he’s not really taking advantage of her? Is it okay because its not like he’s paying her rent, only buying her pretty things and taking her places, is her phd position payed and she has scholarships? Is it bc she approached him? Has rook begun to wonder why she is always the one to take things to the next level, or does she think he’s just a gentleman who’s letting her set the pace? (it is her first serious relationship after all, but why isn’t he responding to her subtle hints that she want to get married and have kids pretty soon after she graduates?) What does Emmrich think is gonna happen when she graduates? does he think she'll end it amicably, a clean break where they never have to see each other again? Or is he preparing to stick it out as she strings him along until she find someone she wants to date for real this time? Is he continuing as normal until he can’t pretend anymore or is he ramping up the princess treatment in a last ditch effort to make her stay just a little bit longer?)

All I know is that it 100% blows up in their faces spectacularly and I am rotating it in my head 24/7

When I tell you I absolutely inhaled this. I mean I practically unhinged my jaw and swallowed it whole. And now I’m just sitting here, seething with jealousy, wondering why the hell I didn’t think of something this disgustingly perfect myself.

You said you wouldn’t write it, but listen: I need you to. If you ever do, you better tag me immediately, because I’ll be sprinting at full speed, ass-first on a warhorse, ready to gorge myself like a famished beast.

Emmrich was just made to be a sugar daddy ok. He wants to take care of peopleeeee

[mini-leafster]

~Where was i? After the hospital arc? Okay. Let's get the rest of this done. *Beep Dreath*

Okay so Shroomy was a happy sort and the universe didn't like that. Maple was dying slowly so Shroomy had to leave her body and she looked like Maple. Maple took this as an insult to the possession injury. Pin got hit by a spitter that made her feral and she killed things again. The spitter was after Leafy so it kept spitting at anyone it could and Shroomy saved the day each time they could. Pin built a burrow and tried to make it presentable for your mom but we kept on giving her her sanity back so she realized maybe this was weird of her. Leafy got Pin to leave and they went to the recovery center. Turns out Spitters feralness is Terminal. Pin Jr was kidnapped by one of the Funny Plants ( funny blue plant) that had been spittered and was looking for his kid. To him Pin Jr was that kid instead of his actual child( he was delerious cut him some slack.) and he murdered the patients in the exploded corpse hospital to feed to Pin Jr. We made her eat the bodies so it's as okay as that sentence can be. On the way the spitter finally found Leafy but instead of letting her go wild and kill stuff Pin tore a bit off of her that was a bit too large. Leafy started to lose blood a bit too fast to make it to the recovery center and died in Pin's arms. This saddened Pin and she sat there. Shroomy was also dying so when it saw the corpse of Leafy it possessed her. This was a very bad idea as Pin freaked out. She tried to convince Shroomy to come down but Shroomy was skeptical so Pin tore Her Point Off in a fatalistic burst of strength to use to climb the tree. Shroomy got stabbed but Pin told her that she was going to kill Pin, then Coiny, then Pin Jr. as their purpose. Shroomy was like "Okay. That sounds reasonable. I was born like five days ago." She proceeded to stab pin with her own point. Coiny revived her and you, Maple, and Pin left to save Pin Jr.. Coiny got snatched by Shroomy and she killed him for bling. Pin Jr was given future sight and then got possesed by a thot. Blue Funny Plant was convinced to die and Shroomy possessed his corpse making this an unholy trilogy of corpses jammed together for a cool as hell design. Also Coiny's corpse is there too. The Shroom dragon was talked down from killing Pin Jr and revived Coiny then left to sulk because she killed some people and people didn't like her. (Have... Have you seen the rest of your friends, Shroomy? We are far beyond this point.) Maple was given her other wing back and buzzed her way to the cave Pin Jr was in. Pin Jr saw that no matter what she did someone was going to die. And then Maple got a stalactite to the face. Lollipop came into the cave and took Pin Jr into her car away from this place.

Running out of time before work. More on this later.~

This sounds.. Concerningly believeable.

But I don't remember any of this at all????? Are you sure, anon?