#I'll sometimes indulge in good ideas

[kalloway]

apparently I never posted this here? lmao weird

anyway, sharing this now because keeping with my own lil tradition of avoiding the internet on the 14th (to keep myself sane lmao), I will be absent SO

@magthemage 's OC Cammy is still my fave girl rn so it only feels right to share it for the occasion hehe (it's a meme redraw from something i saw on twitter ofc)

I have another pic of her p much finished I just... never completed either. I guess I could do that tomorrow :') I LOVE HER A LOT AND SHE DESERVES THE WORLD (and Professor Brando be out here high-key working on it lolol)

[astrxealis]

the way i'm so unproductive regarding school on weekends but so productive on monday immediately ..... i should learn to adhere to this more

[noxtivagus]

hdflkjasdklf i'm just thinking of certain characters n stories hehe

[themultifanshipper]

penny for more thoughts on paddock bunny reader 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

If you were asked to describe your status on the grid, you wouldn't say paddock bunny.

You were friends with the drivers, and sometimes you fucked them. Simple as that.

Warnings: Foursome?, but two are just voyeurs, Dom reader, Sub Lando, Max and Charles are just there, choking, PinV sex, teasing, dirty talk? Praising, one singular use of mommy, bc Lando has a mommy kink but it's not him that says it, Lando get humiliated in this one guys but he likes it I swear

Part 2 of this

If the drivers were asked, they'd say "she's just one of the boys" with a smirk, and move on.

It was more like a reverse harem, you decided who, when and where you fucked. It was all completely under your control, and that was how you liked it.

Some of them might get a bit possessive from time to time, but they understood your limits, and always respected your decisions.

That didn’t mean you didn't like to indulge a little bit, though.

Take Lando’s win in Zandvoort for example.

Max and Charles were two of the most possessive brats of the lot, and Lando knew just how to torture them.

You were in his hotel room, ready to give him his reward, when he told you his plan.

Why not invite Max and Charles over to watch? And only watch, while Lando fucked your brains out in front of them.

The size of this man's ego…

It was a fucking wonderful idea, you thought, and you sent a text in the group chat to tell Max and Charles to come over.

It took them less than 10 minutes.

Meanwhile you and Lando had arranged the room for your convenience.

You placed two chairs a the foot of the bed, for Max and Charles, and lay down on your stomach, propped up on your arms while you waited.

What Lando didn't know was that although he just wanted an ego boost, to show off in front of his rivals, you had other plans for him.

You wanted to knock him down a peg. Lando was a switch by nature, but you knew just how to push his buttons to make him whimper and squirm in no time, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

When the knock came, Lando opened the door and let them in.

You explained the rules to them: they were free to touch themselves, but no touching you, and no talking. This was all about Lando, not them.

Once the two were firmly seated, Lando got to work, spreading your legs and using his expert tongue and fingers to make you drip down his face as you heard the tell tale noise of zippers opening.

As Lando worked, you moaned loudly, overplaying it a bit, and Lando assumed it was to put on a show for Max and Charles. But you knew exactly what you were doing, it wasn't for their benefit, it was for his.

Lando quickly made your legs shake and you got close to coming, but at the last moment he retracted himself and you were left gasping and scowling at him.

He was going to be mean, huh? Well you could be meaner.

“I don't want you to come unless it's on my cock, sweetheart. Turn over and lift your hips for me”

An opportunity! You bit your lip to hide the smirk threatening to appear on your face.

“No baby, you won the race, it's your reward. I want to ride you.” You purred in your most seductive voice.

His resolve slipped so fast, bless his heart.

“You're right, I'll let you do the work” he tried to remain cocky as he lay down, head at the edge of the bed on the boys' side so you were facing them, “Why don't you show them how good my cock makes you feel, love”

‘More like I’ll show them how good my pussy makes you feel, you smug bastard.’ You thought.

You straddled him and winked at the other two, both of them palming their bulges though their underwear.

You held his cock against you, barely pushing the tip in as you rubbed it up and down your slit.

You could tell Lando was tensing up under you, but there was no way he was going to submit to you in front of his friends and ask for what he wanted.

So you lay his cock down against his lower stomach and rubbed your cunt over it, rolling your hips enticingly while looking at Lando through lidded eyes as his tip bumped your clit on every glide.

His pupils doubled in size and you knew you were on the right track.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, although the others were barely 2 meters away so they heard perfectly.

You leant down and kissed him sweetly.

“Giving you your reward, baby. I'm making you feel good, aren't I?”

He gasped out a yes and you bit his lip lightly, knowing that would drive him nuts.

His hands went to your hips to lift you off his cock slightly and he looked at you with wide eyes.

“I'm gonna fuck you now, love”

Adorable, he was trying to put up a façade in front of the others but it was rapidly crumbling.

You raised an eyebrow at him and took his cock in your hand, rubbing the tip with your thumb. His hips bucked up involuntarily.

“And what's the magic word?”

He blushed and glanced at Max, who was closest to him.

You grabbed his jaw and turned his face back to you.

“Don't look at them, they’re not here. It's just the two of us.” Lando licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry.

“Now tell me, what do you want?”

He shuddered at your tone.

“I want to be inside you” he whispered.

You hummed and squeezed around his cock, rubbing the tip along your folds again to tease him.

You looked at him pointedly, waiting.

He blushed and his brain went fuzzy for a second before he spoke.

“Please”

“What was that? I can't hear you if you mumble” you popped just his tip inside before taking it out and resuming your movements.

He took a deep breath. “Please”

Bingo.

“Good boy”

You sank down on him in one go and he let out a guttural moan at both the stimulation and the praise.

You heard a sharp intake of breath next to you and you looked over to see Max and Charles gripping themselves, jaws dropped as they looked at Lando.

Now you were giving them a worthy show.

You looked back down and Lando had his eyes screwed shut.

This was so easy.

You raised your hips and dropped them back down, pulling a strangled moan from him before starting a rough pace, hands on his chest for leverage.

You clenched around him rhythmically and he whimpered every time. It was mean, but damn it if you weren't enjoying the sight of the cocky two time race winner falling apart under you.

His hips were jumping in time with your movements, which was a telltale sign that he was getting close.

“Lando look at me” he opened his eyes and moaned.

God, he always responded so well to your orders it was insane.

“Don't you dare come before me, baby”

He shuddered. “But I'm so close”

You chuckled. “Then you'd better hold it.”

“I can't” he whined.

“You can, and you will. Or you're never seeing this pussy again, Lando”

His eyes filled with tears and he gasped.

“No! Please, I need to come so bad”

You leaned down to mouth at his neck. “Then you'd better help me out, because I'm nowhere near, baby”

That was a lie. You were on the edge as well, you just wanted to see how desperate you could get Lando.

His hand went to where you were joined and he rubbed a thumb quickly up and down your clit, sending sparks flying through your body.

You couldn't help but let out a moan at that and he smiled lazily.

“Please, baby, come on my cock like a good girl” he said, almost managing to sound not completely ruined, and his hips started thrusting up into you with intent, nailing your g spot and sending you hurtling towards your own release.

Time to bring out the big guns, then. You looked up at the two older men, who looked dishevelled and quite close themselves, and mouthed at them “be ready”

They nodded quickly, not really knowing what they were supposed to be ready for.

You pinched Lando's nipple, hard, and before he could yelp, you wrapped a hand around his throat and squeezed, cutting off his air flow. You quickly beckoned Max and Charles over to you.

“Fuck, such a good boy, making me feel so good, baby. Need you to fill me up, fuck all your come into mommy, while Max and Charles come all over your pretty face”

He let out a strangled moan as his hips bucked uncontrollably and he did just that, filling you up as you took over rubbing your clit and the sight of Lando's face getting streaked with cum was more than you could handle and you fell over the edge yourself, head thrown back and colours bursting under your eyelids.

Lando whimpered as you clenched around him, getting turned on again at the sight of the mess of the three men in front of you.

“Holy fuck, that was…” Charles started.

“unexpected!” Max finished for him.

You smiled at them and back down at Lando, who was staring blissfully at the ceiling, in a post orgasmic haze.

You pulled off of him slowly and leaned down to kiss him, your lips joining passionately for a moment.

When you sat back up the other two had zipped their pants back up and were staring at Lando open mouthed.

You followed them to the door, bidding them goodbye and giggling softly when they kissed you on the cheek.

You walked back over to Lando and noticed he hadn't moved an inch, but his face was red and his eyes were glassy.

You grabbed a wet cloth from the bathroom and wiped his face clean, making sure to not get any in his eyes, then wiped his cock gently, and lastly your thighs, where Lando's come was dripping out of you slowly.

You lay next to him, pulling the blanket over the two of you and stroked his arm tenderly when you noticed he was still staring intently at the ceiling with tears in his eyes. Oh… oh no.

“You okay, baby? Did I go too far?” you asked.

He blinked.

“I'm never gonna be able to look them in the eye ever again…”

You wrapped your arms around him and giggled. You'd forgotten how much Lando could overthink a scene after it was done.

“Don't be dramatic” you turned his head and kissed him. “They enjoyed it, you enjoyed it, I definitely enjoyed it. There's nothing to worry about.”

He hummed, wrapping his own arms around you and pulling you close.

“And besides…” you continued, stroking up and down his spine “If they give you any shit about it, i'll make sure you can watch next time I give them a reward.”

A few seconds later he groaned and buried his face into your neck. “Now I'm imagining covering Charles’ face in my cum and I'm getting hard again”

Well… “You did just win a race, baby. And I could certainly go another round…”

That was the fastest you've ever been flipped over in your life.

[zweiginator]

hey bestie could I request patrick and art taking turns eating the reader out (or at the same time)????? feel like that would be my dream fr. love your writing!!!

OH.

patrick and arts' confidence had been struggling. they had just lost their fourth doubles match. in a row. this was uncommon--no, it had never happened before. one loss happens. two is bad luck. three is shaken confidence. but four, four becomes a habit.

and you heard their coach yelling at them after their loss. you, expecting your best friends to win, had promised to take them out for wings at their favorite bar after their win. of course, they didn't win, but their dejected little puppy dog eyes made you feel so bad. so you took them out anyway.

you would never tell them this, but they look so cute in their matching outfits. snug black shorts that hug their muscular thighs. a t-shirt adorning their beloved tennis club. art wore his ball cap backwards; patrick's was worn the normal way.

and they were so sad. barely talking to you, sighing as they sucked and bit on their wings, pushing their fingers into their mouth. you kind of just watched them eat.

and the thing about your relationship with art and patrick was that it had teetered and almost bled over the line for the one and a half years you all had been friends. nothing about your relationship was traditional. on the road, you would all share a bed. and sometimes you wore art's shirt to bed and patrick's boxers. you commented on how handsome they look multiple times a week, and laughed at how flustered they would get. the boys ogled at your ass when you played your own matches, the wind pushing your tiny skirt up as a gift to them. but you had never, ever fully committed to pushing those boundaries. none of you had ever kissed, nor had you indulged in your sexual fantasies.

but that doesn't mean you didn't have them. and you knew art and patrick talked about them when you weren't there.

so you had an idea. it was stupid, and maybe you were feeling cocky at how pathetic they looked sitting across from you in a silence that was bordering on uncomfortable. but you gave them a deal.

"your guys' confidence is wavering." you tell them, pushing your finger into their basket of wings. you suck some of the sauce off. patrick and art are listening; it's the first thing anyone has said at this celebratory-dinner-turned -depressing-pity-party. "and hey, you're both incredibly good at tennis. so it makes sense that you're this upset."

they nod, and reach for the same fry. art pushes the basket towards patrick, and he happily shoves a handful in his mouth.

"but if you sit here and let it get you down, you're both gonna get in your head and keep losing."

"how do we avoid that? it may be too late." patrick takes a sip of his drink. art has his arms crossed over his chest.

"have something that drives you to want to win so bad, that you don't have a choice but to win." you lean forward. their eyes are big and confused.

"we always want to win." art shrugs.

"and if you do," you begin. "i will give you both a present of sorts."

"which is?" patrick's interest is piqued. but you can tell he's pissed at you insinuating they don't want to win enough.

"if you win your doubles on thursday, i'll let you do whatever you want to me." you whisper it, and hear them gulp.

your promise alluded to a conversation you had overheard six months prior. you weren't even supposed to be at their apartment, but you had had a bad day and wanted to watch a movie with them. they were talking loud in the living room, and you quickly realized it was about you.

"i wouldn't purposely ruin our friendship, is what i'm saying." art said. "but if she let us fuck her--i would do it immediately."

patrick interjected. "i would do disgusting things to her. and i would let her do them right back to me. seriously, anything."

the word anything was the kicker here. because ever since that conversation, you wondered what anything would be for them. how they would fuck you. what their fantasies were.

patrick wipes his mouth with a napkin and leans forward. "both of us together? or we separately can do anything we want?"

you shrug. "whatever you both want. that's the promise. i don't have any stipulations on how it's done."

"holy fuck." art is flustered, maybe because he realizes you know he is just as perverted as his best friend.

you all shook on it, like it was a stupid bet. it kind of was.

and by thursday, you were nervous. they were playing some of the top-ranked players in the nation. of course, art and patrick had good rankings, respectively, but they had been steadily dropping down the ranks since their losing streak began.

everyone at the match was rooting for art and patrick, but they didn't expect them to win. and you didn't know what it meant for your friendship with the boys that you were on the edge of your seat with your fingers crossed, praying they would win. for you.

they came out strong, waving to the crowd, but especially to you. and when the match began, you had never seen their reflexes so fast, their hits so precise. the other boys were gaining on them, but the deep grunts coming from art and patrick, the sweat running down their necks, it all showed they wanted this so fucking bad.

they won like it was easy. of course, they had actually tried incredibly hard--but they made it look nonchalant. and they looked at you as they hugged each other, celebrating a win that signified much more than fans saw on the surface.

they decided to cash in their prize that same night. that's what they said when they came up to you, beaming. their chests heaved, but their smiles were big. and nobody around knew exactly what they meant.

so you lay on patrick's bed, in your little skirt and a tank top, resting up on your elbows so you can watch them. you notice how they are both there; they didn't decide to go separately.

neither of them really say a word at first. patrick slips one of your shoes off and art the other. they look at each other as their hands run up your bare leg, until they reach the waistband of your skirt.

"do you wanna do the honors, artie?" patrick asks.

art quickly pulls your skirt down your legs. they admire the pink lacy panties you're wearing.

"take off your shirt." art tells you.

you do, quickly. you aren't wearing a bra. their breath hitches.

"fuck me." patrick lunges forward and sucks your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the sensitive bud. art goes for your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down to your collarbones. his strong hands feel your breast. you're trying not to moan, not to give them the satisfaction that this is for anyone but them. but you do.

art returns the favor by turning your face to his. he kisses you desperately, moaning into your mouth, his spit wet on your chin. patrick feels left out. he moves up your body by kissing your jaw on the other side, before he forcefully kisses your mouth. he is hungry. at a quick glance, you see how hard they are. but they don't pull out their cocks. they don't pull your hand to feel their erections. and they don't tell you to suck them off.

ininstead,stead their mouths travel downward, each of them pulling one of your legs apart. they press sloppy kisses down your chest, licking down your stomach, until they are laying on their own stomachs, looking up at you. patrick kisses your inner thigh. he pulls your panties down your legs.

"her pussy is so pretty." art admires. they're talking like you're not even there.

"look how fucking wet she is."

your legs shake as you bite your lip.

"should we take turns, or should we share?" art asks.

patrick is greedy, and he hooks both of his arms around your legs, his hands on your ass. he presses wet, hot kisses to your cunt and licks at your clit. your hips buck, and art pushes them down, cooing in your ear. you can tell he's jealous, that he wants to help too.

"good girl." art praises. his breath feels good against your ear, and you move to kiss him, your hands tangled in his pretty blond hair.

patrick's fingers move inside you. they're fat and soaked and his tongue feels good as it moves in circles over your swollen clit.

art pulls away from your mouth and patrick pulls the hem of art's shirt.

"come taste her."

your mouth hangs open as patrick pulls his fingers from you and offers them to art. and the moan you let out as art sucks them into his mouth is fucking pornographic.

and then art's mouth is on your cunt. his fingers press into your thighs and it hurts in the best way. art is louder than you expected, and louder than patrick. he spits on your cunt and spreads it open to admire your hole, soaked and pretty for them. he hums and moans and groans into your pussy, and patrick can't take it.

so they share you. their tongues touch and their spit mixes as they eat your pussy, their hips bucking into the bed.

"tastes so fucking good." patrick moans, his thumb pushing into you.

art looks up at you, at how fucked out you look. you cum on their tongues--both of them. and you watch as they continue to lap at your sensitive clit, begging you to cum just one more time for them.

they don't want this to be over. and you think about how this was what they wanted, this is what they decided on when you gave them that choice. this was their anything.

[weirdmorefics]

Can you make a fic where the Bridgerton sister gets high or drunk, and Colin and Benedict try to get her out of trouble???

A/N- Yes I can! I love this idea especially since I am the little sister with an overprotective big sister.

Readers' Pronouns- She/her

Word Count- 1292

Summary- Reader sneaks a few too many drinks at Daphne's debut ball.

An Average Bridgerton Ball

"Can this ball get any more dreadful," Eloise groans.

Benedict points to Daphne, "That is going to be you soon so I'd say these events soon will get even more dreadful."

Mother approaches the pair and worriedly asks, "Has anyone seen Y/n? I don't want her to miss Daphne's debut! I am sure she is going to be crowned the diamond of the season the way the queen has been eyeing all night!"

"I do not know Mama, we are not her keepers," Eloise moans.

"I do not envy any man who wishes to court you," Violet's face tightens but Eloise pays no attention to the reaction and Benedict stifles a laugh. "Let me know if you see her, I'll be with Daphne and Anthony," she sighs and walks away.

Shortly after Penelope joins the pair of siblings dragging a giggling Y/n behind her.

"Y/n you must regale to us what is so humorous," Benedict looks at Y/n bemused.

"I regret to inform you but I don't think Y/n even knows why she is laughing," Penelope frowns. "You have to get her out of here before she ends up the headline of Lady Whistledowns next piece."

Colin arrives at the tail end of Penelope's sentence, "Mother wanted me to help you two look for Y/n but it seems you two beat me to the punch... oh my god. Is she sloshed?"

"It appears so," Benedict's smile grows.

"Well, this ball just got a lot more entertaining," Eloise smirks.

"Sloshed, is such a funny word," she giggles. "We should get sloshed more so we can say sloshed all the time," Y/n slurs. "Next round of drinks on me!"

"Y/n sweetie, it's an open bar," Penelope treats her like a child.

"One she clearly made good use of," Benedict raises his glass in awe. "My little sister is growing up."

"I am so grown, you are so right," she slurs. "Mother she doesn't see that, she thinks I'm so immature," she whines. "It's always be more like Daphne, men like well-spoken girls and well-rounded girls, not girls who spend all their days in the horse's stables," she mimics their mother's voice. Y/n points her hand to the sky in declaration, "I'll show her, I'll gather more suitors tonight than Daphne will the entire season."

"I do not think sober Y/n would agree with that decision," Colin rationalizes.

"Sober Y/n is no fun, she lets Mother walk all over her," Y/n frowns. "Sober Y/n needs to learn a lesson or two from Eloise and not care what Mother thinks, but she needed some liquid courage."

"Why is drunk Y/n talking in the third person," Eloise smiles.

"Dissociation my darling sister," she squishes Eloise's face as Eloise rolls her eyes. "You should try it sometime. Like right now I am going to tell Mama that I wish not to be married but horseride competitively and I am not even nervous."

Y/n turns to walk away but drunkenly stumbles nearly falling to the floor.

Benedict luckily catches her arm before she face plants onto the floor, "I have to say I am quite fond of drunk Y/n."

"Well, I am certainly not! Anthony will kill us if he sees Y/n in this state," Colin says worriedly.

"Oh, I do hope so!," Y/n smiles. "Drinks and a show would be fabulous!"

"You've had enough drinks for a lifetime," Colin groans.

"As much as I hate to admit this, Colin is right Anthony and Mother will kill us if they see Y/n in this state. Pen is also right if Lady Whistledown gets wind of this we will never hear the end of it and will be held prisoner in the house until we are to be wed," Eloise frowns.

Colin and Benedict shiver at the idea of being grounded to the house. Y/n is completely unaffected by the conversation and her eyes follow the appetizer plates the servants walk around with. She tries to walk away yet again from her siblings to indulge in the variety of savory foods but is tugged back to Benedict's side with a grunt.

Colin sighs, "There's no way we can get out of here with her without causing a scene. I mean look at her," he gestures to Y/n who is currently trying to see how loud she can belch.

Penelope smiles, "I may have an idea."

"Yes, Pen for the win! I will always be superior in smarts and friends," Eloise quips.

Colin groans, "Now is not the time Eloise. What's the plan Pen?"

"Men can never resist a damsel in distress-" she is quickly cut off by Eloise.

"No Pen where is this going?"

She sighs, "As I was saying men can't resist a damsel in distress and your sister is about to be crowned diamond which makes you a jewel yourself Eloise." Eloise groans in response but Penelope continues on in stride, " Just do some light swooning on the dance floor and the suitors will come flocking."

"Maybe being trapped in the house with Mama forever is better," she grimaces.

"No, no, no. Eloise just think of all those forced piano and etiquette lessons with Mother permanently on loop," Benedict annunciates.

Eloise takes a deep breath and looks Y/n straight in the eyes, "Sober Y/n owes me big time!"

"She makes no promises," Y/n giggles.

Eloise sighs enters the crowd of dancers and makes a big show of fanning herself and loudly announces that she feels very faint. Men of course flock to her offering her a hand or handkerchiefs to fan herself with.

"She is oddly very good at that," Benedict admires.

Colin rolls his eyes, "Come on help me get Y/n out of here she is a lot stronger than she looks."

"I want to watch the show," she whines making herself as heavy as possible as Colin tries to drag her by the arm.

Benedict laughs and throws her over his shoulders since everyone is too busy watching Eloise be uncharacteristically charming.

Y/n kicks her feet wildly, "You are no fun!"

"I pride myself on being the most fun sibling actually but it seems you are taking the crown right now I do think that hangover in the morning will make you give the crown back though," he smiles wickedly and Y/n huffs in response.

"Less bickering more escaping," Colin chastises.

"He's definitely never the fun sibling, " Y/n shakes her head.

Colin growls, "At least I got you out of the ball unnoticed."

"Hate to break it to you but that was all Penelope," Benedict smirks as he sets Y/n down.

Colin rolls his eyes for the millionth time that night but is interrupted by Y/n running off.

"Look pretty flowers," she swoons.

"Man she is fast," Benedict watches.

"Aren't you going to catch her!" Colin points.

"I carried her out here," he defends.

Colin sighs and has to chase Y/n around the garden for a good ten minutes until they successfully push her into the carriage. She passes out shortly after getting into the carriage.

"Well that was certainly one way to perk up tonight's boring ball," Benedict smiles.

Colin shakes his head still out of breath from chasing her around the garden, "You are carrying in the house."

"Am I now? Care to wager? How about an arm wrestle match?" Benedict bargains

"You're on!" Colin says determined. He of course loses the first round and declares best of three and still loses...

Safe to say, Eloise, Colin, and Benedict got their revenge on Y/n by making her torturous hangover ten times worse.

[mellowwillowy]

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 x GN Reader

⤷ warnings — everyone is depressed :), masterpost

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who hates his work so much and despises the fact that he has to stay involved unless he wants his hard work in protecting you crushed down.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is a ruthless man nonetheless, stepping on anyone's fingers who tries to graze you with his boots, watching them wailing and trying to wriggle out of it.

"Such bug must really be squashed dead huh?"

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who will sometimes take the belongings of his dead enemies for you to collect. Whatever it is that manages to catch his and your interest is as good as yours now.

"You know, how about we make a deal? Give me this thing and I'll let you die in a more peaceful and easy way."

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who hates the idea of seeing even a soul sneering at you. Anyone who makes the slightest bit of rude remarks toward you will be faced with his fist immediately, no matter where they are.

"Say. That. Again. And. I. Will. Make. Sure. You. Can't. Talk. Anymore."

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is not a talkative man but will always tell you about his day as he strokes your hair, watching you sleep peacefully. He doesn't like telling people about himself but all that is thrown out of the window when it comes to you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is indeed a loyal man, never indulging himself in the parties where women and men are involved with each other.

"Never seen ya' with anyone wrapped around your arm. Come get a taste of it!"

"If I were you, I'd immediately run along before I make you taste my gun's bullet."

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is tired of living, had it not been for you, he would have long chosen to kill himself and after you into oblivion. But that would simply mean he is wasting away all the troubles he had gone through just for his current standing.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who can never rest in peace because of you and the organization he's leading. He shouldn't have taken this position, and shouldn't have shot the previous ringleader down after the revolution he led. But he needs power and being that man's right-hand man wasn't enough.

"ELEANOR! IS THIS HOW A DOG SUPPOSED TO REPAY HIS MASTER'S KINDNESS?!"

"... Hey, unfortunately enough... I have never even once considered you to be my 'Master'. I'll let you go with your pride still intact, see you again."

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to tend the garden in place for your bedridden state. You love flowers and it truly would be a shame if the flowers have to wilt because no one takes care of it. Well... never mind that he'll just ask the gardener to tend it again later when he's absent.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who watches how the house that was once white slowly darkens into pitch black, just like how he is dragged deeper into the underground world. Reality and Fantasy, these are truly a shackle of curse to him.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to sit in front of the grandfather's clock, sipping his share of tea while flipping through the album photo of you two. All was great until you decided to commit something foolish that dragged him into the underworld.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to stroke your hair absentmindedly, watching you sleep while your chest heaves up and down. Always sleeping and never awake. He enjoys humming the lullaby that you have always been fond of, hoping that it'll somehow reach your ears.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to play the Russian roulette with himself, will the dice finally choose to take him? Nonetheless, the dice is kind enough to make him survive for another day to take care of you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who can not sleep in peace as he cradles your limp body, worries endowed in him as the thought of his enemies slipping into his manor and taking you away from him. They know a better way to kill him after all, and that is by taking you hostage rather than torturing him to death.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who will always make sure that you are breathing, his ear placed on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. The idea of your life slipping away from your comatose body terrifies him.

"... Good night." Eleanor places a kiss on your forehead before hugging your body, the two of you hiding beneath the cover of a blanket.

Ongoing Poll

[head-empty-just-ace]

Gotta love how I went from never watching horror movies bc I was too scared to casually watching them in my free time. Ofc, I'm going to drag Ace into this. Again, unedited and just on the fly stuff. No plans/plots. Just vibes.

CW: Horror movies. Slightly on crack bc this is assuming Ace (is scared) doesn't like horror movies. Also, he teases you later at the end.

Word Count: 600+

You and Ace usually have movie nights in your room since you like to collect tapes of various movies across islands you guys visit. The two of you play rock-paper-scissors to decide who picks the movie. Rock-paper-scissors with the winner deciding the movie/s to watch (but he secretly uses his haki to win sometimes).

This time, however, Ace wanted to indulge you. Let you win. Part of him was trying to guess what kind of movie you'd want to watch. He reaches out to grab his drink by the nightstand and take a sip. His mind wandering to the possible genres. Action? Comedy? Romance? Maybe something steamy—

"Let's watch horror." You say and Ace chokes on his drink. Your brows furrow as you turn to your side to glance at him. His hand patting his chest as he tried to recover. "You alright?" A hand comes up his shoulder to pat his back to soothe him a bit. It takes him a while to recover.

"Just didn't expect you to pick that." Ace says, shrugging his shoulder. By now, he's sitting on your bed with his back against the headboard while you get up to pick the movie. "Well, if you're lookin' for a reason to get real close t'me, I won't stop 'ya." He chuckles as he proudly opens his arms for you with a wink.

You roll your eyes, mumbling something about growing up with horror movies. The movie begins and you settle beside him. There's still a bit of distance between the both of you. With that, the movie starts off.

That's when you start noticing it. Him tensing up at the jumpscares. The almost spilling the snacks or food on the bed at times. How he adjusts his hat just enough to hide a major chunk of the screen every now and then. His hand near you twitching as if holding back from touching you for comfort.

It finally clicks. He's scared. Ace is scared.

When the tension in the movie rises (that feeling of moments before a jumpscare), you clap your hands loudly. A colorful arrangement of curses leave his lips as he literally jump from his seat. A panicked expression on his face as he looks around as if on high alert.

You laugh. A loud joyous laugh that Ace usually adored but right now he was just glaring at you with his face burning red from embarrassment. But ofc, its you— laughing, he couldn't really find it in him to be actually be angry.

"Awee, if you're scared, I'll let you cling to me~" You coo while batting your lashes at him playfully. Arms wide open for him while gesturing him to come closer.

He lets out a groan and grumbles a complaint but an idea comes to his mind. With a tug of your hand he shifts you into a different position. His back still against the headboard while you sit between his legs and his arms wrapped around your waist.

"This seems like a good position." Ace whispers in your ear. The warm breath of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. Now, its your turn to blush. He chuckles at the sight of you looking flustered. You didn't need to turn around to know he had a smug look on his face.

And now, each time something scary is about to happen, he'll bury his face against the curve of your neck. Not so discreetly brushing his lips against your skin. You can barely focus on the movie by now and he's relishing in that fact.

Ace still does occasionally lean back and just hold you against his frame throughout the movie. But the unpredictability between his affections and casual touches was getting to you (not that you minded). When the movie reaches its end, he presses a kiss to your temple. You could feel his smile against hour skin, his warm breath making your heart flutter.

"Y'know what...I'm starting to like horror movies."

~~~~

In case you guys liked this, here's my masterlist of other works!

[edgeray]

mygod that siren Arlecchino fic you did is *chef's kiss* IMMACULATE!!! might i request a continuation, mayhaps? Arle mentioned that she'd follow the reader as they sail, so maybe she misses them and either tries to climb onto the boat or the pier where they're docked to see them again? either hurt/comfort or fluff, the rest is up to you!!! love your work and thank you for fueling my Arlecchino obsession :] also i might pop back in here once in a while, may i be moth anon?

The Sea's Calling Pt. 2

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Part 1 link here. Yes, you definitely can be a moth anon! Hi :D. I already added you to the anon list. To other anons that have requested and I haven't gotten to, I do see your requests and if you gave yourself an emoji/name I already added you ^^. Anyways, back to moth anon. <333 I'm so glad you enjoyed my siren Arlecchino fic! As my first request I was kind of nervous about it but I'm glad that you enjoy! I'm also really glad that you sent this request! I did always want to write a part 2 but didn't have the opportunity until now. Thanks moth anon, for the reuqest and for enjoying my works!!  If you couldn't tell, I love the idea of found family pirates. One Piece did this to me. The ending turned out to be self-indulgent, forgive me moth anon ;) Even though it's short, this ended up being one of my favorites. Hope you like this one! Content warnings / info - monster x human, arle is ooc bc she's a siren, fem! reader bc pt.1 has fem! reader, suggestive at the end, 1.2k words

You used to think that the most beautiful thing out there was the sky and its stars–to you, nothing was more mesmerizing than them. They are so alluring despite holding this mystique, and they've guided humans on their naval journeys and inspired all kinds of stories of their origins. The stars were all that kept you company, even on the lonliest and coldest nights.

Now, however, the stars aren't your only company. 

“Guys, I'm going to go back to the ship. Don't wait up on me too much,” you to your fellow pirates as you stand up from the stool. You drop off some extra coins on the baa counter, in order to compensate for the plate that you will be ‘borrowing.’ You pick up the plate of your half-eaten slice of meat pie and sandwich and head towards the exit before one of your crew mates stops you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Turning in already? C'mon, stay a little bit. We've got enough money for a few more rounds of beer,” he says with a boisterous laugh. You chuckle lightly but shake your head. 

“No can do, sorry. Got something to do.”

“Uh huh, like your little siren girlfriend?” Another crew member states, her teasing smile widening as you flush. 

“One more? Jackie hasn't finished his story!”

“Let the darned woman go see her darn girlfriend, Goldie,” another gruffed with a shake of his head. 

“Fine, fine, go on ahead. Tch, when will I get my own smoking hot siren girl?” Goldie huffs, and you snort. Likely never, but you don't tell him that.  

“Thanks, I'll be back,” is all you say before rushing out of the door, nearly tipping over the plate before you balance it again. You wave them off and you make your way back to the docks. The walk is both short and long, and each step you take is filled with the excitement that buzzes through you. 

Even after these months, being able to spend time with her feels like bliss, like you have just found treasure. Sometimes, you forget she's a siren, she's ever so endearing and follows you around like a puppy. Oftentimes, when you're on the boat, you talk to her as she lingers by. The night after you first met the siren your crew had banned you from jumping into the waters because you had developed a cold which infected a good chunk of the crew; the cold wasn't severe for anyone but still. Since you can't be in the water, you often just talk to her from the railings and she answers. 

It's only when you're docked when you can finally touch her, but those times come rare. It can take days, sometimes weeks to reach an island to dock at, but when you do, you always take the time to sit by the shore. 

Finally, you arrive at the pier. “Arle?” You call out, and you see a ripple in the water. Grinning, you walk to the ends of one of the docks, setting down the plate a bit away from you. You remove your shoes and set them far away. Perching on the dock, your feet dip into the cold waters and you shiver.

You see something gleam in the corner of your eyes, the familiar shine of her scales. You then remember the food, and you start. “Wait, Arle don't splash–”

Too late. Something erupts from the waters and launches into you, a cold, heavy weight thrusting into your body making you tumble on your back on the dock. Pressed between the wooden planks and the creature that straddles you, you can't help but laugh and raise your hand up to her face, the now drenched food forgotten entirely. 

“Hey gorgeous,” you say as you stroke her cheek gently. She's the most beautiful treasure that you found among the seas. Arlecchino gazes down on you, her red pupils glistering as her arms wrap around your torso. She purrs, little fangs apparent as the tip of her tongue peeks out with her open-mouth smile. 

“Missed you,” is the first thing she says, before she leans her body against you, nuzzling her face into your neck. Your clothes get soaked from her, but you pay no mind. You stroke her wet hair, carding your fingers through her strands before kissing the top of her head. 

“I missed you too. Did you eat recently?” 

Sometimes she'd disappear for a few nights to search for another wandering ship for her meals but she never fails to find your ship again. You haven't seen her for a couple days before you docked her. 

Arlecchino nods. “Human food?” She questions. Her tail flicks, thumping against the wood out of eagerness. Although she enjoys the taste of cooked meats, beef especially, you don't believe it's as nutrition dense as… well, the main source of her diet, and it's hard to serve her cooked meat while on sea due to the issue of storing meat on ships. So, cooked meat has always been a treat for her. 

You nod. “You want to try?” 

She lets out an affirmative purr, and you help her sit upright in your lap. It's always a bit difficult considering she has a tail instead of legs, but she maneuvers her tail to encircle your waist, and you support her back with one of your arms. You silently mourn for your now soggy sandwich as you reach for the plate, using her tail as a flat surface. 

“What is it?” 

“Meat pie and a sandwich.” You take the fork and dig out the meat from the meat pie. Balancing the tender piece of beef on your utensil, you carefully guide it to her mouth. 

“Careful, it's hot. And don't bite the fork this time,” you gently warn her as she eats it. She squirms a bit in your lap, an indicator that she's pleased with the taste. 

“More?” You chuckle, adoring the cute plea in her eyes. 

You scrape out more of the meat until she's eaten all of the pie filling, leaving you to eat the pie crust. You're still peckish, so you start eating your sandwich, but not before fishing out the thick slice of ham from it, and giving it to her. If it meant you could watch the way her expression lights up again forever, then you would endlessly eat ham-less sandwiches and savor every cheese and vegetables sandwiched in between wet bread. 

“Did you like it?” You ask in between chews as she leans her head against your shoulder. She nods, and leans up again to place featherlight kisses on your neck. With the cold droplets of water and her frigid lips, it tickles you and you giggle. So adorable. 

You freeze up when you feel her fangs prick your skin and she looks up to you for permission. Another mating bite? You nod, wordlessly giving her permission, and you suck in a harsh breath as you feel her teeth sink in. Purrs vibrate coarse through her mouth as she pulls away, lapping at the mark and the texture of her tongue invokes a throaty groan from you, your body trembling with pleasure. 

Arlecchino leans away, but in her eyes, hunger burns in them. Her hands take purchase on your hips and she pushes your back against the planks. Her tail unwinds around your torso and instead coils around your ankles, securing them together.  

“H-here?” You question, flushing. Her hands wander lower, the sharp nails trailing lower to your thighs, where faint scratches scatter. 

The night that you first met her, she sang so beautifully for you. Tonight, you repay her back, singing out her name so tastefully. 

[astraerystarr]

Optimus Prime x Megatron fic recs!!

HII AGAIN, I had to delete my old account @numbraerys so I'm reuploading this rec list, sorry about the mess but I'll make the rec a little prettier this time ^^

Homesick For A Memory by Eisengrave, Maelikki [M, 9k w., Bay Movies]

Even Primes can lose their faith. But sometimes, their failed Protectors make good on their word given long ago.(weird little fixit for AoE because we stan a protective Megatron and an Optimus who is finally tired of his human hamsters. Also, homecoming.)

~ugly crying, screaming on my pillow, rolling around on the floor

The Silver Lining by GeminiWishes [Teen and up, 38k w., Transformers Animated 2007]:

After Optimus was expelled from the Autobot Academy, he had no sense of what to do or where to go. Desperate for purpose, he ends up on a mining crew that travels the galaxy. But when their ship is attacked, Optimus' life will change forever.

Whether or not he'll be able to handle those changes is yet to be determined.

~I ran around my room on all fours reading this

Some Kind Of Forever by auri_mynonys (FAVE) [E, 8625 w., TFP]:

A chance meeting in a bar near the Pits brings Orion Pax and Megatronus together.

~I freaking love this fic, I'm so glad it was one of the first I ever read

Adeste Fideles by Legitconcrusher (FAVE) [Teen and up, TFP, 57,632+ w, ongoing]:

“Oh, indulge me, Optimus. How many times have you answered your desire’s calls to walk among these pitiful creatures…in the flesh?”

In which Optimus shares with his greatest foe, and former friend - Megatron, the one time a year he allows himself to feel amid the throes of their War within a Christmas market.

The angsty slow burn Christmas AU no one asked for.

~absolutely wonderful to read and incredible writing♡♡♡♡

Gaining Perspective by Dragonlingdar [Teen and up, BayVerse, 105,732 w., Ongoing]:

Megatron and Optimus are turned into humans by a prototype weapon Starscream uses against them. In order for Megatron to get his revenge and Optimus to free himself of Megatron, they must reclaim their original bodies. However, will they still be Optimus Prime and Megatron by the time they do?

~I hyperfixated on this fic for a whole month after finishing it

Contact by auri_mynonys (FAVE) [E, 98,747 w., TFP]:

Orion Pax knows there's a word for what Megatronus means to him. He just can't quite put his finger on what it is.

Which is probably how he missed the moment where he asked Megatronus to marry him.

~Slow Burn♡♡♡♡♡

Plus One by auri_mynonys [E, 64,631 w., TFP]:

Megatronus has a party to attend. A high-caste date will lend him status in the eyes of his fellow gladiators, and Orion Pax is all too happy to play the part…

~this fic was infuriating to read, I loved every second of it

Songs Of Metal And Sparks by EbonyAura [Teen and up, 58,741 w., Rock n' Roll AU, TFP]:

Imagine the Transformers Prime universe where war is nonexistent, and instead of the Autobot and Decepticon factions, it's the Autobot and Decepticon rock bands.

Imagine that both bands are nearly world famous, yet have no idea the other exists.

Imagine that Cybertron's festival of music is approaching, and with it, the chance for a lucky upcoming band to go on a world tour.

Imagine that both bands, ecstatic for the chance to finally reach world fame, are going to the festival.

~this cured my teenage heart that didn't get to read nice cute stuff like this

Optimus Prime Is Destined To Die!! by Chuzilllaa (FAVE) [G, 169k+ w, ongoing]:

Orion Pax is your typical archivist from a functionalist free universe and lives a peaceful life, but after dying tragically in a transport incident he’s reincarnated as Optimus Prime of the hit action novel Songs of the Spark, the beautiful but aloof eldest prince of the Prime lineage…who is a pathetic side character doomed to die a tragic death at the hands of the tyrannical Duke Megatron.

Of course his darling little brother Rodimus Prime is the precious hero and puts an end to Megatron’s reign, but Orion has no intention of dying a pathetic death! No! Not again! He wants to live damnit! So begins the attempts of a pax-turned-prime turning over a new leaf in the hope of living another day. Little does he know there’s a bit more to Optimus than a pathetic side character…

~I love this fic so. damn. much.

Lunch Date by Chuzilllaa [Teen and up, 6,000+ w, Earthspark, crack]:

With a new cafe opening at G.H.O.S.T headquarters, Optimus invites Megatron to try something new.

~fluffy and funny♡♡♡

At First Sight by Lyricality (FAVE) [M, 27,000+ w.]:

Optimus is the last of the Primes; Megatron is the greatest of Kaon's gladiatorial warriors. Their shared destiny - Optimus is certain - just needs a push in the correct direction.

~help I got obsessed with this fic and I can't get out

To give (in) by 0 (only_elsewhere) (FAVE) [M, 10,000+ w, Earthspark]:

After the war, Optimus confesses.

~aaashhksdkkklkosljdhjh

Victory Condition by astolat [E, 37,000+ w, TF Gen1]

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” Megatron said mockingly. “You won’t like it, Prime. It’s not a very nice one.”

~cave in fic with poetry and the heart wrenching story of Megatron's origins - my beloved

Cooking Off by zuzeca [E, 2000 w., IDW G1]:

Megatron and Optimus find themselves in an awkward position and learn some extremely personal information about each other.

~ Good reading ;3

[archtroop]

Sometimes I need to remind myself that tumblr is a fringe social network, and is by far not the average. What it is though, is a good sampler of the more extreme, I would say, ideologically swayed. A bit.

The more comments and notes I read from the Free Palestine crowd, the more it gets obvious that these are incapable, useful idiots. Literally, spoonfed couchpotatos at best. Starbucks Boycoyters at worst.

It's like the 00's insecure attention seeking posers, with an amoral, ignorant twist to them.

And they are entirely, ABSOLUTELY useless people.

Some morally rotten such individual wrote me that "Israel deserves what's coming for them, you deserve to die" etc. And it really made me think. What's coming? WHO'S coming? You? You, an unemployed tumblrina? You and what army?

What are you gonna do? Try to kill us all? What's the WORST you can do that wasn't, hasn't been tried already?

Truth is, no one is coming.

You read about this pompous, self indulgent "Palestinian Activism Solidarity ". What the FUCK are you talking about? Where is it? What, SA under IRI at the ICJ?.... Watermelon emojis...? ...Slogans?

The most "affective" actions FreePalestine Movement "achieved" was a few shootings/stabbings/rammings here and there, a hostage situation in Turkey in the name of Palestine (the man was executed on the spot after some negotiations. Turkey, yeah). A few burnt synagogues around the world and a whole lot of terrorized Jews in the Diaspora. Not a single Palestinian benefited. Not in Gaza anyway. To sum it up, what exactly are you gonna do? Blow yourself up in a subway in the name of Palestine? How incredibly unoriginal and unhelpful. Although expected and unsurprisingly fitting to the roots of the movement, I'll give you all that.

No one is coming. A lot of pakapaka from Nassrallah and Co. and a radio silence from the Arab world.

Iran pulled the Houthies out of their boydem only for Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and Jordan to reluctantly push the button to down Houthie ammo flying towards Israel. Houthies "asked" of Saudi Arabia to "let them cross over to fight the Zionists", and not only this is a joke, a caravan of sandals-wearing, AK-47 totting, Houthie caravan crossing Saudia to do what exactly? Bite Israeli ankles in Eilat Port? Rather It's an insult, to show that "here see we tried", since Saudis are fighting the Houthies FOR YEARS, it was never an actual option to begin with.

Are you blind? No. One. Is. Coming.

After 75 years of trying to erase Israel from the map, the 7th of October unleashed what could only have happened after Israel had its last straw broken.

Congratulations, you've managed at dehumanizing Israelis to the point that you managed to rob us from one aspect of humanity, even if temporarily: our symphaty.

Not forever, but for a period. And when you did so, you WERE LUCKY, for US were here WITHIN MINUTES, being smart enough to talk Israel out from attacking on the freaking spot. Instead, Israel waited 3 damn weeks. For 3 weeks, Israel called for the evacuation of Gazans from the northern side of Gaza.

Symphaty has an expiration date. The 7th of October 2023 was that date. You backed Israel to a wall, and no slogan will suffice against a nation that KNOWS that its very existence was threatened in a very real, visceral, inhumane, and depraved way.

No one is coming. Not for us, not for the Gazans. The Arab world is waiting to see, when will they wake up with one Iranian proxy less on the map. The truth is, aside from the pakapaka all round the clock, Isrsel was left with "do what you do, we wait" kind of global attitude.

Arab nations don't care about Palestinians. They don't care for the Palestinian Cause. Never had. It was always for show, as a pawn. A distraction. And we know it, very well.

The Palestinians are, and always were, used. They were used to carry on this idea that Israel would disappear from the map. If not by force, then by proxy warfare and terrorism, with time. If not by proxies, then by mass protest and public opinion. But the thing is, reality is a material thing. You need TO DO a thing for it TO HAPPEN. And public opinion rarely holds. And for how it's loud, the Free Palestine Movement is nothing but that: Loud.

As for the undoing of Israel and Bney Israel, well. Many have tried.

And oh boy, did the Arab nations TRIED.

They PAYED for trying.

But that's in the past, largely. Now, the annihilation of Israel and the creation of a Palestine is just a cruel pipe dream, with human prisoners, and an international cheering squad. After all, you can't free something that never existed and couldn't form one coherent ideology that makes sense and strives towards a positive, creation-adjacent activity in 75 years of its yappery. It's just not there. If the ideology surrounds destruction, it can not create. It can only destroy.

You may shout your lungs out and make up all kinds of delusional narratives. In the end, they are just that: empty words to make the righteous self of the woke crowd feel better, to feel active. To be a part.

To be USED.

It says a lot about the sad reality of this mass of people. The yearning for purpose, this loneliness. The rootlessness. Loss of identity. Identities so fractured, so incohesive. Loss of trust in the institution. The shallow knowledge. The practically non-existent reading comprehension.

All are easily diverted to create this cult like behavior.

People cry their eyes out over something that not only they have zero way of affecting but oftentimes is inflated, twisted, and presented as something completely false, or fake or what have you, instead of looking around them and doing something about their own realities. Pouring their hearts out over an unreality, fruitless.

This is either willful ignorance or escapism. Can't even say which one is worse.

This mass is being used. It creates a pool of despair, mysery. Feelings of "not enough", of unachievment. Those masses are breeding grounds for terrorism activity recruitment.

One party, one goal.

Free Palestine is a magic combination of words. You would ask, what is it? And they would sell you, ah, it's this magical place over the rainbow far, far away, and you can be the savior of those people. What a beautiful fantasy. Except you can't save those who did all their best to commit a slow, painstaking suicide, over 75 years. It's unrealistic, whatever this so-called "movement" is yapping about. There are no outlines, no strategy. It's just empty, big, bombastic words, to rile up emotionally as many people as possible, who look for a meaning.

I keep remembering the movie The Wave (2008). It's amazing how word by word, scene by scene, the story is playing out right now with worrying accuracy.

I don't know where this will lead Europe, UK, US, Canada... Australia... you all should be on high alert internally. But one thing is pretty clear.

No one is coming. As for Israel... You did your worst already. You have left Israel with nothing to be afraid of.

BDS biggest achievement was the eventual unemployment of thousands of Palestinians from the West Bank. UN is a joke. Red Cross is a joke. UNRWA exposed, visibly and undeniably. Abraham Accords are proceeding, even if slower, yet still they do. HAMAS gets mopped the floor with. And Lebanon has to do the impossible: drag Hezbollah away from the Isrseli border. Otherwise, there won't be much of a Lebanon to speak about in a very short amount of time. And that's not even a threat. It's reality. As government officials in Lebanon plead with Hezbollah to halt, Israel is ready on the border for 80,000 Israelis are internally displaced within Isrsel itself because of the war with HAMAS, but mainly away from the northern border because of constant shelling by Hezbollah.

And it won't hold forever.

And no one is coming.

Because who will? You and what army?

[chosokamosbf]

(N)SFW JASON TODD / RED HOOD HCs.

☆ 18+ only/no minors.

WARNINGs: 18+, gn (gender non-implied)! reader, daddy/mommy kink, mentions of abuse (jason nor reader are doing it), minor mention of blood, sub/dom, pain play, fear play, "prey/predator," brat taming, reader is referred to as "prince(ss)" and "sweetheart" once.

WORD COUNT: 900-ish+

Based on canon, I firmly believe he's on the ace spectrum, specifically demisexual. And even then, he rarely experiences sexual attraction at all for his partners. This isn't because he doesn't love them (enough) or any other assumptions similar to that; it just doesn't happen much.

Furthermore, as much as he'll indulge you here and there if you do, (sexual) intimate moments with Jason would be far and few between, making them all the more important to him.

He's a switch, leaning on dom and top. Mostly because he likes the control and is more comfortable that way. Getting him to be submissive instead is a gradual endeavor. He doesn't hate it; it just takes a lot of patience and trust.

First and foremost on actual kinks, I think Jason has a thing for "daddy," both on the receiving and giving ends. He likes the title, and he's definitely the type to whisper something like, "C'mere, sweetheart. Give daddy a kiss." in even private, innocuous moments just to mess with you.

(Note: I don't think he'd have as much of a mommy kink because—y'know.)

Rough sex is a top favorite of his. This goes hand in hand with play wrestling as a form of foreplay, breathing heavily down on his partner just to continue that energy into bed with sweat-slick bodies. It's less about "winning," and more about being allowed to confide in someone in a way and the fun that can come with it. He wouldn't be against being the sub in this situation either, even if his partner is weaker than him, because he knows how important control can be in bed, so he'll let them win. Sometimes. He trusts you, and he wants you both to feel good.

Degradation/praise wise, he'll give either out depending on the moment. He's going to tease and utter dirty shit like, "C'mooon, prince(ss). You're sounding like a real whore for someone who didn't want it a couple minutes ago—" if you tried to struggle against. It depends more on the moment than position because he could be pounding into you and huffing out praise right next to your ear with what little air he's catching, to riding you, telling you to keep up while his head is already thrown back.

He enjoys pegging a lot, but as always, it's going to take some convincing to get him to comply.

Brat taming is another go-to of his, along with sub/dom. On the other end, it seems to be a near equal opposite—he's not into it, and it can get uncomfortable real fast. There's a few times he'll indulge himself, and they're all after more intense days to sort of solidify the trust he has in you. You're not going to hurt him; he's still in control in a way.

He doesn't seem like he'd like being on the receiving end of any sort of pain play. He already deals with chronic pain on a day-to-day basis. To have it overwhelm one of the few aspects of intimacy that he loves and simultaneously take his head off things for once just doesn't seem like it'd be enjoyable for him. No, on the giving end—

(Note: I'm not into pain play myself, nor do I even know what even makes it enjoyable for people, so I'll be segmenting this with fear play and "prey/predator.")

It wouldn't be something he'd ever bring up, far from it, but if it's what you like, he'll gladly take a knife in a steady hand to softly trace it down from your stomach to your underwear. In a smile almost cruel, he'd drag it across just enough so a few drops could be licked back up if you asked nicely enough again.

Jason knows you're just asking for it if you're weaker than him and bring up the idea of a different kind of foreplay. He'd pick a place, somewhere with a lot of spots you could try to hide away and run to (an abandoned office of sorts is the best go; he's not going to risk infections).  Just for him to stalk, pin you down with ease. If the spot he found his little prey in isn't satisfactory (or clean) enough, he'd have no qualms settling you over his shoulder like a sack and manhandling you where he wants it.

He definitely isn't going to go too far, though. As well-trained as he is, he's going to be especially attentive after any scenes involving that. Sadism isn't a big one for him. He'll enjoy it in the moment but then feel real guilty afterwards, so, just as a reminder, aftercare goes both ways.

I don't know why some people think he's into "dark" (ex. pedo stuff such as ageplay and actual rape.) kinks when he's canonically and literally has hunted down murdered several (sexual) abusers before. If you try to break boundaries, he's going to be reconsidering the relationship, and quite possibly if he even knew you as a person.

On a lighter note, consent is a big thing for him, and he's also big on aftercare. A go-to would be a bath for the both of you (stuffing the sheets in the washer right before and bandaging any "scratches" if need be.), then cuddling. Depending on whether he has the energy, he'll pop something in the microwave real quick. (Takeout is usually a last resort because the last thing he wants while enjoying the afterglow with a partner is social interaction with a stranger.)

If you wear make-up and it gets ruined by the end, like in the latter part of the previous section, if he can, he's going to help you wipe off the mess and maybe help you reapply it as a form of care.

[neptunes-sol-angel]

This!

It's irritating seeing this trend with readers building their platforms by doing love readings, gaining followers for it, profiting off off of it, and then suddenly pulling the rug from their feet to instruct people (not guide!) that they're "lacking" in something but not even giving them closure on what, how, or where to start. Whether you actually care or you just want to find a reason to shit on other readers, people have the absolute wrong idea over and over again about what readings are meant to be.

It is a luxury. Not and should not ever be advertised as a need. If people need help through these services, then they have to want it for themselves instead of you trying to instill in them that they need to be reliant on occultic practices to make good decisions in their lives. That is a dangerous way to make someone codependent on readings because constantly trying to look for things to fix in your life in the name of "self improvement" is equally harmful as what an obsession with future spouse or other love readings will do to you. There is not a single topic that is superior or inferior to another when it comes to divination because they all have the potential to trigger someone into spiritual psychosis and I really need people to understand this.

You want readings to be about counseling others? Go towards other closed divination practices that are solely designed for giving spiritual insight OR just simply keep posting the topics that you want, in your own way and call it a day instead of worrying about what the next person is doing. Why does it always have to be a dick measuring contest in these communities when really we should be supporting each other? Not everyone is equipped to channel self-help readings and it's perfectly fine to just be a reader that caters to love topics or anything else that is unique.

It's like saying "Books are for learning. You should only read educational topics because I think you're not doing enough for your intellectual responsibilities". You'd be mad as hell if someone told you that you needed to put down that science fiction book because they feel like you need to learn more about neuroscience.

I'm a reader, and I personally take the breaks that I do here for my mental health because indulging in spiritual practices with no boundaries will drive you into insanity. Respectfully, if I just finished having a mental breakdown over recollecting the various cases of childhood trauma that I've experienced...I do not want to log on here and read pick a cards about shadow work. I wouldn't even want to touch my cards or speak to my spirit guides for the next couple of days.

Any other time, I LIVE for a good reading no matter the topic. Future spouse readings are not my favorite but I don't hate them. Sometimes I'll be drawn to just one specific topic depending on the day because that's life. One day I want to know more about my love life in the present, the next day maybe my love life in the future, some days I do want to read more into the shadow work that I need to do, next week I could really want to read pick a cards with messy topics or themes that are meant to boost your confidence, and when I'm in that mood, I might just only want to read 18+ themed pick a card readings 💀

The point is that I don't think people understand how precious this platform actually is. A lot of the material here, you can't really get in any of the other divination communities. People are talented here and should stick with what they feel that they should make and it's pointless to try to get them to do it any other way because IT'S SO DIVERSE here, just simply find another reader who makes the messages that you need at the moment. It's not that hard or rare to find that people are making it ought to be.

And just focus on what you can do as a reader. Are you being true to your practices and beliefs? Are you creating a space that's healthy for readers up here? If not, then think and respond accordingly to what you feel like you should do. If you're concerned about the consumption of love readings, don't be quick to point fingers at other people, especially if you know you're part of the problem. People learn on their own timing and through their own choices and you can't control that. What you can control is the content that you choose to distribute to others.

Do topics that match with your truth. Love readings are not your thing or not what you believe in? Don't make them. Are you tired? Don't feel pressured to post. You feel concerned with how your audience is consuming your content? Post less. Etc.

[katiekatdragon27]

Sometimes I forget that Flatland is something I can interpret as my own thing so I'ma do that now.

Ik these look very inspired by Flatland 2007, cuz they lowkey are, but I just really like how A. Sphere looks I'm sorry (ik the creator is bad but I can't help the brainworms). I wanted to add quirks tho so it's better imo. My versions of the characters if you will. More fun to draw for me and less ugly (on A. Square's end).

They have actual names and design purposes for each thing. Abel's glove to prevent contamination into himself from Flatland, Anthony's glasses and front hairs being makeshift arms, all that has a reason lol.

More explanations of stuff below cut:

The Flatland parts of Flatland the book stay the same mostly. I'm not changing much there. I do want to flesh out Spaceland tho, so I'ma do that cuz I'm super self-indulgent.

In my version of Flatland, I think it would've been fuunier if out of frustration, Abel Spherious ("A Sphere"), grabbed Anthony Squaur ("A Square") out of Flatland and yoinked him out without thinking about the consequences. He realizes shortly after that he probably shouldn't have done that, and it will probably have horrendous consequences later down the line.

Abel almost kills Anthony on accident, so uh, yikes. But then after bringing him out of Flatland, he decides to work with it, taking him back to his office to do his report on Flatland. He sorta keeps him hidden, but on the last day Anthony gets leaked to the public and the war starts over it rip. However, the span that this is like 3 days, so they get time to chat and develop communication skills n stuff.

Also, since the gravity is so harsh on Anthony's body, he struggles with talking, only emerging little squeaks. Eventually he's able to use a device to get his thoughts across (probably like a telegraph or smth), so the first day or so of being out of Flatland was a terrible time for communication. Especially when you're so entranced with the idea of seeing your "god's" insides.

Also, Abel just kinda finds Anthony gross in general (cuz he looks like a bacteria) and rejects all advances until Anthony learn to properly yap though morse code. When Anthony writes the Flatland novel, Abel translates it for the world of Spaceland to read and not want to obliterate Flatland. However, that is after his misadventures in the fourth dimension (boo a Heightlander's Escape reference tomato tomato).

These are some studies of the two. I really like the hairs on Anthony, it makes him so much more expressive. Also, Abel is a slaying king, I love him sm.

Also, Abel is like the last person who should be in charge of a company. That shit goin down the drain in a week I swear (he came to work high every day his first month of being CEO). I'll probably change the name a lil I just have to cook.

Also, silly joke of how Anthony and Abel met lol.

Have a good one broskies :)))

[divine-misfortune]

The hoes asked for more virginity kink Aether, with a side of corruption kink, and honestly I fully blame @iamthecomet because of that fucking Aether/Phantom fic from a while back (comet you know what you DID!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I haven't been okay and or normal since.)

I made a post a long while ago about Alpha being Aether's first, just had to take the fresh quint after seeing him so painfully and obviously lusting after Omega for so long. Had to dangle every filthy detail he knew about his mate over Aether's head. It's Alpha's fault he's like this, taking such visible glee in pushing Aether into every new feeling. His new vessel is so sensitive, so unexplored, and he tells him as such.

Aether realizes it with Dew, when he moans into his mouth and flinches from his big hand palming at him through his slacks. The feeling is surprising and it confuses him, Dew looked like a deer in headlights that day - flushed and panting, straining and leaking in his boxers, brows pinching upwards as he stares back at Aether. The naivety in his pale blue eyes makes something dark and sick claw at the back door of his mind, a beast fighting for its way in to wreak havoc on the water ghoul trapped between his body and the wall.

He shushes the surprised whimper Dew questions him with, the doubt muffled in a kiss fueled by greed. A desire to take what can never be given back.

Promises of 'I'll take care of you' 'I know exactly what you need', and 'you'll feel so good' to soothe away hesitation. The final nail in the coffin is when he squeezes Dew's cock and begins to stroke him through the suffocating fabric, his little body twitching and reacting without his permission as Aether whispers 'you trust me, don't you droplet?' Dew's dick jumps in his hand and he knows he has him even before the shaky, feeble nod.

The first time is intoxicating. He wishes he could defile Dew's innocence over and over and over. Dew indulges him sometimes, plays demure and sweet the way he once did genuinely. It scratches the itch for the most part - Dew is a good actor after all.

But sometimes the greed rears it's ugly head.

Aether tries to keep himself in check but it's hard. All the siblings he passes in the hallways reeking of virtue yet to indulge in the most pleasurable cardinal sin. His teeth itch to become acquainted with all of that unsullied flesh.

The hardest, most strenuous test of his will is when they bring the new summons to him after their arrival. Still unaccustomed to their bodies, moving awkwardly and carefully like they don't quite understand why every part does what it does. He's tasked with assuring they're healthy, that nothing went awry in their arrival, and of course he does. It's his top priority after all! He's been professional each time but his mind wanders on him, that he can't help.

He eyes the warm untouched body with a hunger that none of them pick up on at the time. New summons hold no shame, no learned sense of modesty yet, unknowingly teasing him with every inch. There have been a few times he's dared an inch too far, brushing softened cocks in passing or kneading more than necessary at breasts under the excuse of examination. Makes his heart race and his body ache with desire, horribly aware of the way his dick sticks to his thigh, a feeling becoming more uncomfortable by the second.

The second they are whisked away Aether is fumbling with his zipper. Growling as he tugs at himself, hunched over his desk with a hand flat to the surface, nails digging into the wood. The idea is wrong and he should be ashamed for wanting it but all Aether can do is want.

He wanted to take them, all of them. Introduce their bodies to addicting sensation. Mold their wants to align with his own as they simply don't know any better.

Aether knows the position he's in, how trusted he is, and truthfully it only makes the desire to corrupt more voracious.

He spills into the waste basket with a groan, and the beast is satiated briefly with fantasy, but for how long it will remain that way he can't tell.

[lunarw0rks]

please tell me i’m not the only one who thinks soap would be horny at the WRONG times?

like let’s say you’re hosting your very first end of the year bbq and you invite your close friends, the task force, + los vaqueros. you’re excited because you just had moved into your first house as well.

all is good until good until soap starts getting needy, purposely brushing up against your backside whenever he passes by, mumbling the most sarcastic ‘oops my bad’. he even says something along the lines of ‘sending everyone back home so we could have some alone time’ and plays it off as a joke but you know he’s being serious 💀 like that man does NOT CARE, he’ll take you in the bathroom if he has to.

a/n: naur, you're onto something anon. I always picture Soap as a horny bastard; not much restraint in his not-so-little body. got a little carried away on this, lol. warning(s): nsfw, horny stuff, fem!reader

imagine you bought a house together and the nice idea of throwing a little housewarming party, for him, for you — inviting his co-workers and some friends of your own. he insisted a thousand times that you didn't have to invite them; but only because of all the embarrassing stories they were going to tell you about your boyfriend.

but, when all was said and done, it was a great gathering. you did it all yourself — the meals, the decor, the staging of your newly purchased outdoor furniture — everything. it was alluring to Soap, how frazzled and insistent on "perfection" you were. though, you heard about a thousand times, that they would eat anything you put in front of them.

when you two sat around the fire, gaz asked how you two planned on celebrating the new house once the festivities died down. an innocent question; but it sparked in your boyfriend's mind. "aye, we'll find a way to celebrate, that's for sure. jus' gotta make sure the timing's right," he played it off with a chuckle, but there was no mistaking how flustered it made you.

it was going perfectly, or as perfect as a party with these people could be. a lengthy dinner in the backyard, endless conversations, and a little too much indulgence in the booze for some of them. "great party, great house. should have you decorate the base sometime, eh? if it's half as nice, it'll help with morale." price commented as he talked to you and him.

Soap's arm remained around your shoulder, your waist, or anywhere throughout the night. you didn't think anything of it, frankly, you were too laser-focused — until his neediness grew. brushing against your backside, a caress on your thigh lingering, a small wink when the guests weren't focused on you.

some went off to the side to smoke, and others remained on the patio to continue their conversations. by now, it was time to get the mess cleaned up. plates, cups, wrappers, empty bottles, and the other trash that had accumulated.

"i'll help you with that, love. you've done enough tonight, haven't ye?" he approached after dismissing himself, grabbing the second stack of silverware and following you inside. Soap finally had his opportunity to seize what he desired, when he knew the party was much less alive, much less prying eyes on you two.

you stepped inside from the patio, him closing the sliding door behind you. dumping the plates into the sink, you turned on the faucet with the intention of beginning a long night of clean-up duty. his hand reached around you, turning off the faucet, "not what i meant by helpin' you, lass. c'mon," he motioned his head in the direction of the hall.

you took one more look out the window, seeing the preoccupied guests, most paying little mind to your guys' close proximity in your new kitchen. why the hell not? might as well cross the guest bathroom off your list of "places we've had sex in our new home" — right?

before the door even closes, he's hiked up the hem of your evening dress, shoving his hand down the waistband of your panties. Soap ends up fucking you senseless on the bathroom counter, gagging you with his fingers in case any of his co-workers came inside the house to grab another chilled drink. you were only a few feet from the kitchen, it was the definition of risky.

mid-thrust, there was a soft knock. price, goddamn price. "everything alright in there, sweetheart?"

even with his superior on the other side of a door, about a foot away, did Soap stop? no, of course not. he slowed down but never stopped. he removed his fingers from your mouth, biting his lip to mock you that look in your eyes, whilst they shot open in a frenzy. you cleared your throat to conceal a moan, using every ounce of strength to not feel Soap bottoming out over and over again. "uh, just a— just a little wine on my dress, John. no worries!"

as soon as price's steps retreated down the hall, Soap's ragged, growly breaths resumed. in a split second, his ruts went from mockingly slow, back to a relentless pounding.

before there was any chance of another interruption, he finished with a sneer on his face. "wine on the dress, eh? smart girl. i like that." he heaved against your lips, gently wiping any mess that smudged on your lips. you were livid, despite coming down from your own high. a palm smacked his chest repeatedly until he shut your heated whispers up with a hundred pecks across your jaw and mouth.

Soap walks outside first, blaming the lost time on him fishing through the moving boxes for a Tupperware you needed. whether it was believable or not, that was up for debate. the sweat lingering on his brow, the afterglow of sex on his face? unmistakable.

now, you've either have to splash water on your dress to imitate where you would've scrubbed a wine stain off. or... just, walk on out of there like you hadn't just been fucked stupid — with trembling legs, naturally.