#WIP images to come in the day reblog

[hajikelist]

Soul Eggs Benedict and Golden Kingdom Feast

Big big feast with many friends! Shout out to @pooty2t for manning the bread and @scuba-spaghetti for being a great general sous chef and rib sourcer!

Used the same crab and egg flavors as the barometz. I liked it, but I didn't have enough sauce to go around! The bread was buttery and fluffy and the sauces salty and the eggs poached so soft.

The vegetables were more flavorful than I expected with the vegetable broth used for the gelatin. I know they were supposed to be bland but I didn't want to do that to feed my friends. It's a Ukrainian recipe I found and the fresh basil really makes it pop.

The fish loaf did not set properly so I didn't get a good picture of it. It was also kind of meh.

I didn't get a good pic of the soup before it got demolished, but it was a lot of people's favorite! Very Thanksgiving mess of a flavor. The husbando found an exotic meats shop where I was able to get rabbit legs and I could break it down on my own! Browned in butter and slow cooked, with onions and with potatoes added later.

And the ribs oh the ribs. Slow roasted for 2.5 hours, glazed with a impromptu glaze (mainly hoisin, with some sugar, ketchup, soy, vinegar, sesame oil) and broiled for like 15 mins. Tender and fatty. Absolutely decadent.

[swagging-back-to]

im debating not making art anymore.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 11

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: I'm just tryna get through the week.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The waiting room is excruciating. You find yourself standing more than you sit. Both are torture. Your concern mounts with your discomfort and the more you think of Hansen’s response. He’s a demanding asshole, he told you several times he takes what he wants, but today, he let you go. Even he could see something was seriously wrong.

Funny how you never dread the doctor so much when you’re there for Simone or Malik, but for yourself, it makes your insides knot. You can’t even think of the last time you made an appointment for yourself. That’s probably not good either.

As the doctor examines you and goes over your symptoms, you wince and struggle not to keel over. He’s patient and gentle, treatment you’re unused to. That stray realisation is even grimmer as it sticks in your head.

“Hmm, I’m going to be optimistic and say it’s a bruised tailbone,” he explains, “we can send you for imaging to check for a fracture but it wouldn’t likely be possible today. I’ll call the lab with a request, just to make sure.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” you lean on the examination table, “so what does that mean? Painkillers? Stretches?”

“Rest,” he points at you with his gold pen, “avoid sitting. You want to keep pressure off the tailbone. Lay on your stomach when you sleep.” He tucks his pen in his coat pocket and goes to the cabinet in the corner by the sink, “you’ll want to keep this handy.” He opens the door and slips out a box, “it’ll help.”

As he gives you the box, you consider the image of the donut cushion on the front. The inflatable seat is stuffed into the tight package. You’re not unfamiliar with it.

“Apply ice. Every twenty minutes for the next two days, then two to three times a day should work,” he takes his pen out and his little pad, writing as he talks. “Make your husband do some of the chores.”

You cringe. You nod as you accept his advice. You were just about to argue; you have two kids and a job.

“I’m writing you a note. You’re not working for a week at least. I’ll fax a letter that should be acceptable for the time-off,” he rips off the top page and hands it over.

“Thank you,” you utter again as you look at his chicken scratch. “What is this?”

“Something for the pain and something for your blood pressure.”

“My blood pressure?”

“Your readings are elevated. It could be stress, it could be anything. Right now, I want you to keep track. Measure it and write it down. Come back in a month so we can go over the numbers.”

“Is it that bad?”

“At your age, it’s not entirely unusual,” he assures you, “better we catch it before it’s too serious. You get headaches? Feel tired?”

“Well, I have kids, I’m always tired and yes, they give me headaches sometimes,” you shrug.

“How often do the headaches come?”

“I don’t know, sometimes two or three times a week.”

“Do you have a history of migraines?”

“Not since college,” you answer.

“Ah,” he nods. “Take the pills, icy your tailbone, and stay in bed.”

“Doctor,” you go to argue.

“If it isn’t already a break, you’ll make it one,” he girds, “the lab will call you about your imaging appointment.”

You swallow down his orders. They’re much easier to follow than Hansen’s. And surely better for you. You thank him once more and leave the room, stopping by the counter to give your work address and get your imaging paperwork.

As you get to the car, you unpack the cushion and use the little pump to inflate it. You drop it on the seat and get in. It still hurts like a bitch but not intolerable. You sit behind the wheel and stare. 

You could cry as you go over the appointment. Is it that obvious that you don’t take care of yourself? That you don’t have time? The doctor saw right through you and that brings it all flooding in. You’re barely holding it all together, you’re not sure how much longer you can.

You make yourself start the car and pull out of the lot. You go down to the pharmacy and turn in the script, wandering the aisles as you wait for it to be filled. You take out your phone to check the time. A missed call from Pete and another from Hansen. You don’t have the energy for either of them. Once you have your meds, you have to get the kids.

You claim your prescriptions and start your race against time. Waiting to see the doctor alone took up the bulk of your day. Now you have to get through the rest.

You nearly speed up to the curb of the school, at the tail end of the pick-up as the clock ticks on. You roll around as you see Simone and Malik waiting with Mrs. Guinness. You roll down the window and wave, thanking her loudly as the kids rush to the car.

You get out to strap Malik into his seat as Simone grips her book in her lap but doesn’t open it. You’re breathing loudly as the pain coils around your spine. You muffle it and give her a smile as she watches you. Her eyes dart to the front seat.

“Mom, are you okay?”

“Good,” you say as you snap the buckles together.

“What’s that for?” She points to the cushion.

“The seat’s uncomfortable,” you grunt and push yourself out of the back door. 

You shut the door and get in the front. You settle in, clicking in your own belt and fix your mirror. Simone is smart, too smart. She’s quiet as you shift into drive.

“Mommy, mommy! We played a game today–”

“Shh,” Simone interjects, silencing her brother, “mom,” she utter tenuously, “are you pregnant?”

You nearly scoff as you grip the wheel tight. You laugh and shake your head. “Why would you ask that?”

“Well…” she lets her thoughts hang in the air before she speaks to them, “you and dad have been… arguing and you have that cushion.”

“Trust me, I’m too old,” you shake your head, “don’t worry, you won’t be having another little brother.”

“Oh,” she hums, disappointed, “I was hoping for a sister.”

You take a breath. It’s all so complicated but some of it isn’t. They’re going to know sooner than later.

“Look, the cushion is because I hurt myself. I was waiting until we got home to tell you but I fell and hit my bum pretty bad. Got some bruising is all,” you explain lightly, “doctor says I’m good, just need to rest.”

“Mommy’s hurt?” Malik babbles. 

“Oh,” Simone accepts again, “I… does dad know?”

“He’s been working but I’m gonna give him a call,” you fight to keep your tone steady, “he’s gonna have to come home and help me out a bit.”

“Mommy, you can have Donny, he’ll make you feel better.”

“Mal, she doesn’t want your stupid dragon.”

“Sim,” you rebuff, “don’t be mean. Malik, you can bring Donny in to snuggle with me, okay? That’s really nice of you.”

“Ugh,” Simone huffs and you see her roll her eyes in the rear view.

“Sim, do you have enough time between chapters to help with dinner?” You tease. She doesn’t answer. “Oh, don’t worry, I can manage some mac and cheese on my own.”

You flip on the radio and let the music waft through the car, trying to push away the other worries. You are going to have to call Pete but you really don’t know how much help he’s going to be.

🗄️

You pull into the driveway and repress a groan. You’re really starting to feel it. Your legs are numb yet painful. You push yourself out of the car and grab your purse and the cushion, your keys jingling loudly in your hand.

You open the back door but Simone’s too quick. She’s right beside you, waving you off.

“I’ll get him out,” she insists, “the doctor said.”

“I know what the doctor said,” you chuckle, “thanks, Sim.”

Another car door snaps shut from somewhere unseen. You don’t think much of it as other neighbours often get home at the same time. You wait patiently for your daughter to unbuckle Malik as he squirms impatiently.

“About damn time,” the timbre roils in the air hotly.

You almost let a ‘shit’ slip through your lips as Hansen’s voice makes you tense. You squeeze the cushion and look over Simone’s head at him. She lifts Malik down onto the ground and she turns to face your uninvited guest.

“Ew, it’s him,” she sneers.

“Nice to see you too, toots,” he struts up the walk with his hands in his pockets, “isn’t this sweet? Got the whole clan together.”

“What are you doing here?” Simone challenges.

He tilts his head, brows arching, “you know, maybe I should give your mom some time off so she can teach you some manners.”

“Hansen,” you put your hand on Simone’s shoulder and sidle past her and echo the same question, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m actually being a good guy,” he leans around, speaking to Simone pointedly, “not evil at all. Checking in since I sent you off to the hospital.”

You hesitate. That’s not exactly believable. You know why he’s here; to taunt you. At least he has the discretion to try to hide that from your children.

“Bruised tailbone, doctor is sending a letter, I’ll have to take a few days off to recover,” you say cautiously, knowing he won’t like the news.

“A few days…” he mulls with a sour expression, “bullsh–” he stops himself as Malik comes for to cling to your leg, peeking out from behind you.

“Mommy,” your son whines, “I wanna go inside.”

“Tell him to go away,” Simone hisses.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hansen, I gotta get the kids inside and make dinner–”

“You can do all that but you can’t drag your –behind– to work,” he challenges.

“I have a doctor’s note–”

“I don’t f–” he struggles to censor himself, stopping as he waves off his agitation. He exhales and wipes the frustration from his face, “you’re right. You’re in bad shape, it’s plain to see. So where’s the husband? Shouldn't he be here doing the heavy lifting?”

“My dad’s on his way home,” Simone insists.

“Yeah, he’ll be here soon,” you repeat her lie, “to help.”

“Well, he ain’t,” Hansen bounces on his feet, “but I am, so why don’t I help you out, huh? We need you back to work,” he reaches for your purse, latching onto the strap. “So you should rest.”

“Dude, go,” Simone snarls and pushes his arm.

“Hey,” he growls back at her. “I’m helping.”

“We don’t want your help. She’s not at work, you don’t boss her around here.”

“Simone, Mr. Hansen,” you snip, “please.”

“I’m being a nice guy,” Lloyd retracts his hand and throws it up, “she’s the one making this hard.”

You look at your daughter as she sticks her tongue out.

“She’s twelve,” you state.

“Yeah, and what are you? Sixty?” Simone accuses him.

He recoils, his lashes batting violently, “excuse me?”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, “Simone, take your brother inside,” you hold your keys out, “let me talk to him. It’s just work.”

“And the doctor said–”

“Please, Simone, thank you,” you shake the keys.

She sniffs and takes them. She blows a raspberry at Hansen as she grabs Malik and tears him away from your legs. You rub your neck, the donut cushion around your elbow, as you wait, staring at Hansen as he watches over your shoulder.

“Why?” You ask pointedly.

“What? I’m being good. I let you see a doctor for your fucked up booty and now I’m just tryna fill the hole left by that deadbeat–”

“Not in front of my kids,” you say.

“I was polite.”

“You are arguing with a twelve year old,” you shake your head, “please, I will do my best to get back to work. I know you don’t give a shit but I’m in so much pain, I can’t handle this right now. So please, go.”

“Huh, alright, let’s understand something here, you might be a little broken at the moment but you don’t tell me what to do,” he snarls, “that’s the first thing. Second, you put a muzzle on that daughter–”

“Don’t,” you warn.

“That mouth,” he points in your face, “it’s the ass that’s bruised, not that.”

You clamp your lips tight as your nostrils flare. You stand in a deadlock, silently glaring back at your boss. You feel the tension ready to snap. This is the moment where you could fuck everything up.

Neither of you speak, each measuring your next word but almost afraid to say it. A screech of tires veers in behind your car and fills the end of the driveway. You flinch and look past Hansen as Pete’s garish sports car beams back at you.

“Just in time,” Hansen mutters as he turns slowly.

Pete hops out and swings the door shut, almost frantic as his hair flops forward.

“Hey, I’ve been calling,” he puffs and stops short as he notices Hansen, “uh, everything okay? Where… are the kids?”

“Inside,” you eke out, clearing the frog from your throat, “everything is good, alright?” You try to convince yourself as much as your husband, “Mr. Hansen was just checking in. I missed work today. I went to see the doctor about… my fall.”

Pete blanches and nods, giving a guilty glance to his leather shoes.

“Yeah?” He dares to look at you, “you okay?”

“Bruised,” you answer bluntly, “so I was just telling Mr. Hansen that I am fine. I just need a few days to rest. And I was going to call to tell you the same but I had to get the kids.”

“Your wife’s a busy woman,” Hansen interjects, “hard worker. And she speaks so highly of you, bud.” He claps Pete’s shoulder, “you’re a businessman?”

Pete twitches, as if surprised. He looks at Hansen’s grasp on his shoulder but doesn’t shove it off. There’s a moment of recognition in his eye. Men and their ‘business’.

“Yeah, I run a fitness agency. We do equipment and training, aiming to get into the big leagues, you know, furnish facilities on the National scale,” Pete goes into his pitch.

“Ah, fitness, thriving right now,” Hansen slips easily into his role, “you know, I’m not wearing Louis Vuittons because I work in a dipshit office. I invest and I do it well.” He pulls his hand back and puts it on his hip, “why don’t you tell me more about this agency? I’m intrigued.”

You just stare. This has been an awful, painful day and it just won’t end.

“Uh, yeah, sure, come on in,” Pete sputters excitedly, waving him up the drive. “I got all my stuff in my bag.”

“Great, dinner’s on me,” Hansen offers, “for your time.”

“Oh, awesome,” Pete grins, “I’ll just get my bag out of the car. Honey,” he turns to you.

“Uh, yeah,” you swallow as Hansen faces you with a smirk, “right this way.”

You turn and hug the cushion against your stomach, each step tender and tingling. You sense him behind you, too close for comfort. He snickers quietly as you get to the door. You stop with your hand on the handle.

“Please,” you whisper.

“Be good and I will be, too,” he shoots back.

[raffe156]

Spoils of War

Pairing: John Price x f!reader (Tank) OC

Warnings: Smut/nsfw, 18+, unprotected sex, mentions of violence, Possessive Price, Dom!Price, rough sex, age gap in my head Price is 41, fluff at the end

Summary: You make Price jealous, end of hahaha 

A/N: Thanks for so many likes and reblogs on my last post! Possessive Price has got me in a hold and I really like this MC and Price dynamic, got more ideas and wips for them :)    @yeyinde and @irnbru32​ this one's for you two!

Please as always comments and feedback welcome 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank

3:00am 

You glanced at the alarm clock on the small side table. You knew you needed to get up, but Price had you trapped under his arm you were tucked right into him. His soft snoring in your ear. You traced a scar on his forearm the hair had not quite grown back. The man was like a space heater, you could feel it coming off his bare chest. You were just in his T-shirt but you could feel yourself sweating. The Ac unit had broken days ago on the Los Vaqueros Base, you had asked Alejandro to fix it god knows how many times only for him to respond with “Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing so many layers querida” followed by Rudy apologising for his Captain.

You tried to turn yourself in the small cot so you could put your foot on the floor, but Price gripped you tighter to him.

“Not trying to do a smash and dash are you love?” - The sleep was thick in Prices voice. You turned your face back to him.

“Yeh your my 1am booty call John…I’ve got Ghost pencilled in for 3:30…” - You laughed, but you noticed the change in his body.

“Oh I'm joking John…I need to make sure Im at least back on my side of the base before everyone wakes up…can't be seen doing the walk of shame back from my Captain's room can I? knickers in my pocket…speaking of which can I have them back please…their on your desk” - You sat up on your elbows. Price looks over at his desk your black underwear draped over his desk lamp.

“No…Keeping them thanks…spoils of war and all that lot” - He mirrored your body sitting up on his elbows a smirk on his face.

“Spoils of war?…John you can't keep my knickers…I'll take your boonie hat then...I think I'd suit it” - You got up moving over to the desk to swipe your underwear and his beloved hat his top just covering your arse. Your weren’t fast enough he was up and already at the desk your underwear in his fist, he gave your arse a slap for good measure.

“Now now…got to be quicker than that love, even half asleep you can't beat me” - He was feeling cocky now. He eyed you up and down god did you look good in his T-shirts. He leant back against the desk you could see the outline of him in his boxers, fuck he was handsome. You slinked over wrapping your arms around his neck hugging your own elbows noses pressed together.

“It’s ok you keep them…ill ask Simon if I can have my lace ones back…” - you sighed leaving the whisper of a kiss on his cheek. You pulled away feeling pretty smug with yourself.

Why was he feeling like this? He knew you were joking, but the image of Ghost with his hand on you…you clawing at him while he’s buried deep in you. Him hearing the soft sobs as you cum saying his name…his tongue all over you…Price felt like his blood had turned to acid and it was boiling through his muscle into his bones.

“Have you seen my pants…cause your not keeping them as well…” - You looked over at Price, he looked like a storm cloud.

“what’s the matter? You know I'm joking don't you?” - you walked back over to him cupping his face. Your eyes were pleading with him. You and your big mouth. Price didn’t say a word instead he started kissing you, but it was all teeth, biting greedy, rough.

“Mhmmm….slow down John…”- You tried to pull away but he had you locked in his arms, he moved down to your neck, biting and sucking at it so it left marks. He wanted to mark you as his.

“John don’t, your going to leave marks and I'm not wearing a neck gaiter for the next few days in this heat…ahhh!” - he had bit your shoulder.

“Call me John one more time I dare you…I'm your Captain and I think you need reminding of that” You could feel him on your thigh he was hard, and you couldn’t lie it was making you wet.

“Yes Sir….Captain” - Your heart was racing.

“That’s better…on your knees” - He said pulling his cock out of his boxers, the tip already leaking, you did as you were told.

“Open your mouth…tongue out” Price could see you squirming on your knees. He was going to enjoy this he thought as he slapped his cock off your waiting tongue. You wrapped your mouth around him softly licking the underside of his head. You looked up at him as he slid further down your throat.

“That’s a good girl…” - His hand snaking up into your hair.Price growled as you took him as deep as you could, He was moving your head for you, he hit the back of your throat causing tears to well up in your eyes, he wiped them away with his thumb and pulled out leaving you drooling and gasping for breath but it was short lived as he thrust himself back down your throat and held you to his base your tongue flat to his balls. You tapped his thighs. Fuck the oxygen was leaving your brain, but you could feel how wet your were.

“Alright, easy now take a breath” - Price pulled your head back, saliva on your chin, he wanted to ruin you. You were trying to steady your breathing, you liked this game and wondered how far you could push your Captain. Price could see the look in your eye you were scheming, well he was going to put a stop to that.

“You have 5 seconds to get on the bed…or I'm using my belt on your arse”- He stepped away from you reaching for his pants to unloop the belt his cock bobbing against his stomach. You didn’t waste any time getting to your feet and crawling on to the bed where you waited for further instructions from your Captain.

“Good girl, 6 seconds, but i'll let you off this once…” - he slapped the belt together. It made you jump but the spring in your stomach said otherwise. Price grabbed your wrists slipping the belt over them pulling it tight. More marks you thought. He raised them above and over your head leading you to lie on your back arms reaching towards the top of the cot, tying the other end to the metal rail headboard. A nervous laugh escaped from your mouth. Price noticed you pull your knees up defensively. He cocked his eyebrow at you not a chance your were hiding now. He bullied his way between your thighs pushing your knees apart leaving your bare. He loved the sight of you spread out for him on display, loved the way you couldn’t help buck your hips up. Loved the way your squirmed under his gaze like it was burning you. He was right his gaze was searing into your skin causing your blood to rush and thunder in your ears. You were begging him with your eyes to brand your skin with his touch.

“Look at you…all laid out for me…or would you prefer Ghost between your legs looking at your wet cunt?” - He was smirking as he traced the inside of your thigh with his rough hand, his thumb grazing over you slit. You were feeling brave and wanted to see how far you could push your luck.

“Ghost would already be eating me out like it was his last meal” - Your grin bit at him you could see it in his eyes. Price knew you didn’t mean it you were trying to get a reaction out of him, but he couldn't help the image that formed in his mind.

“Oh I’m sure he would…in fact I know he would be, any of the men on this base would be I wouldn’t blame them either” - Price lowered his head , you could feel his breath on your sensitive skin an inch away from your throbbing cunt.

“I've seen the way they all look at you…wondering what you sound like when your moan, when your begging for it, how you would feel pressed against them tight and hot…” - Price swipes his tongue flat over your folds, flicking the tip off your clit. He takes a quick glance up at you you face is buried in the crook of your elbow, he can hear your panting the dry heat suffocating you. He’s toying with you but your answer got you what you wanted, you always got what you wanted with your Captain, his face buried in you his beard rough on your inner thighs. It was short lived just as you were wading in, Price removed his mouth and replaced it with the sting of his hand the pain spreading up your body.

“For fuck sake…” - You where reeling at the sudden shift in touch. Price gave you a cruel look as his fingers prodded into your cunt thick and heavy, curling up hitting you just right causing a choked moan to escape, his thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing tight circles. You eyes screwed shut as he applied pressure to your abdomen.

“Fuck…John, please…” - Your pleas cut short as he corrected you with another slap to your pussy.

“What did I say about calling me John?…I'm your fucking Captain…”- Price was enjoying this and he couldn’t help feel sorry for you, but you need to be taught a lesson. He sat back resting your legs over his bare thighs he loved the dirty scowl on your face. He gives you that eye crinkling smile but it's laced with smugness and you wanted to kick it off his face. Before you get a chance to kick out Price lines himself up with your centre, rolling your clit with his tip coating himself with you, it sends sparks up your spine that crackle through your nerves. He slides his T-shirt up your body exposing your hard nipples kissing in-between them, rough, nipping kisses, he sucks a bit too hard on one of them leaving a pink hue that will bloom into a dark purple love bite by the time the sunrises.

“Please…Sir…” - Your begging his cock resting at your entrance you can feel your walls clenching around nothing and your really cant help let out a little sob the frustration getting to you.

“That’s a good girl…see your….learning” - Price rammed his cock in, not giving you the time to adjust around him like he usually does. No his rhythm is heavy and powerful each one you feel him at your cervix, you arch your back while your bitten breasts bounce with every thrust. You cant even choke out a moan, the sound of his hips connecting with your arse and thighs is obscene also his swings are causing the headboard to hit the wall, someone was going to hear you.

“Think Ghost or Soap could fuck you till you couldn’t speak love?…After the other night I bet they have wanked themselves dry at the sight of your naked wet body…but i'm telling you now i'm going to make sure they know how good you get it from me…” - he growls, slamming back into you making your eyes roll back in your head. Your caged under him his arms resting either side of yours, he wants to hear you, he needs to hear you. He starts to bite at your neck, licking it his beard scratches you face. There your on the edge he's dragging your walls with every pull of his hips, its pooling in your stomach your going to snap open. You want him to snap you open.

“OH FUCK!…” - You cum, your legs shaking around him its loud, but you don't care.

“Feels to fuckin good love, your so fucking tight, want me to fill you up…” - Price can feel your walls tightening around him pushing him into his own realise.

“YEs…Plea…Fuck me…i want your cum in me Captain!” - You sob the words out, desperate. Price is drunk on the sounds your making as he fucks you rough and hard, the sounds filling the small room, he groans loudly as he cums inside you, panting your name.

He falls to the side of you his cock still twitching inside you, he presses his forehead to your temple. You both try to catch your breath. Price reached up to unbuckle the belt from your wrists, the skin scorched from the rough fabric. He made a mental note to kiss them better later.

“So does this mean I can have my knickers back?” - Your voice is wrecked and dry as you turn your face into him.

“No and dont ask again” - He chuckled lifting his head up to kiss you softly this time. Priced wrapped his arm around you tightly. You were back in the same position as when you woke up you glanced over at the alarm clock 3:35am

“Shit i'm late to meet Ghost…” - You laughed ringed around the room. Price looked at you like your were deranged a smirk creeping at his mouth.

“Really woman? Your going to be the death of me?” - He nudged you back into him, You laughed.

“No really John…I need to get up…In 10mins everyone is going to be gearing up for the brief with Laswell and I don't want to be scurrying back to my room with the best part of you running down my leg thanks” - You tried to push your way up, but he was stronger despite being nearly half asleep again.

“John…really…let me up” - You really were struggling now. Price wasn’t budging he wanted you to stay there with him in your own little bubble, because once you left this room you both had to resume your roles, him making sure you didn’t get yourself killed, you barking back at him for doubting you.

He made another mental note to ask you when this was all over out on a date, dinner and drinks, but for now he was happy like this in your little bubble.

“shhhh shhh…love just give me 5 more minutes” - He felt the lull of sleep pulling at him, his mind showing him the life you both could have together, he could hear you laughing, sing song voice as you danced around the kitchen belly round with his baby glowing and beautiful, two more running at him hands open and sticky. He wanted that and he was going to do everything he could to get it.

[copperbadge]

Well, Still Salty.

I was cranky yesterday and I thought a good night's sleep would provide some adjustment in perspective, but unfortunately "spending yesterday not on tumblr" also offered perspective and got there first.

Up front: feel free to comment or reblog on this post (replies may be heavily delayed) but if you feel the urge to Like, I'm going to ask you to take one more step and go to https://www.tumblr.com/support, select "feedback" as the category, and enter a line or two about the new dash. It can be as simple as "Your new dash design is difficult to use and is driving people off the site". I'm not asking everyone to do it, but if you're going to Like this post, that would be a helpful action in addition. You can delete any response they send; no reason to expose yourself to the unique combination of incompetence and condescension with which they handle feedback generally.

Also up front: yeah, if I find somewhere else to go and go there, I will certainly let you guys know beforehand, I'm not going to just evaporate. I'll be broadcasting about Tumblr's replacement on Tumblr very heavily. But I can't deny that it is now an active goal of mine to find a viable replacement for this site. (More on this in a moment.) You will always be able to find me on AO3 as copperbadge, or via copperbadge@gmail.com. (More on this in a moment also.)

This kind of thing is why I refuse to fuck with staff now or ever; I don't trust them and I never will. Watching @wip respond to almost every complaint or suggestion with "but that would be really hard" is telling. Whoever is pushing blocks around at Tumblr wants a lucrative site that's easy to code, but lucrative is hostile to community and code is difficult by nature, and when the architecture of the meeting hall is hostile and cheap, people don't stick around.

I've been watching the site as every change made it incrementally worse, from a buggy post window that doesn't allow ease of editing to the new dash (which is the reason I'm writing this in a text window off Tumblr). I genuinely do not think I can use desktop Tumblr like this unless I can install something that will put it back the way it was, and roughly 40% of the content you guys get HAS to come through desktop. It's impossible to do on a phone or so time-consuming it's not worth it. I cannot code Radio Free Monday on a phone; it's a struggle to code it on a single-monitor laptop (I usually write it on my work computer, where I have two monitors). Even writing image IDs on the phone is difficult and something I rarely do. Tumblr is becoming an actively difficult place for me to make content, introducing friction left and right.

But where does one go? I've tried other platforms and they're either worse to use or they don't have the constituency. The problem with a lot of discourse around internet addiction is that it often points out how glued people are to their phones without asking what it is they're doing on those phones. I'm not addicted to social media; I don't doomscroll, I don't care what celebrities have to say, I don't find 140 characters useful or interesting, I don’t find most “funny” videos very interesting. I create a lot of original content for public consumption, significantly more than many social media users, and if that becomes difficult, then the site suffers more than I do. But it's undeniable that social media, and this social media in specific, is where my people are, and yeah, I like seeing you all every day. It makes it difficult to leave even when Tumblr is the best of a bad set of options.

It seems like a lot of the internet, lately, is the best of a bad set of options.

All that said, Tumblr forced a sudden, unwanted, and unchangeable reskin on me a day after I listened to a two-hour podcast about addiction while working on building a newsletter system for my author site. I spent the evening before this happened in contemplation of my relationship to social media and to my readership and how I might alter it to my benefit regardless of whether that's also to Tumblr's detriment. Their poor timing, I suppose. A lot of the theories advanced on the podcast were, to put it kindly, bunk, but one of the suggestions for people questioning their relationship to an activity was a dopamine fast -- removing something in your life that gives you quick but unsustained dopamine hits, so that you can take some time to level out and examine your behaviors. On the one hand, that's not at all how dopamine works; from the jump it's a bad theory. But on the other, pulling back from something you think may be causing you difficulty is generally speaking a good tactic.

Removing myself from Tumblr yesterday was an active process: because I have ADHD and often will forget something exists if I don't systematize my engagement with it, Tumblr is normally pinned to my browser, with the app on my phone's top screen. Removing the app and closing the window meant that while I occasionally reached for Tumblr, it was less frequently than I expected, and the lack of access reminded me why I wasn't there. I missed you guys, but I didn't miss getting distracted from work by my dash, or the pressure to respond to the volume of communication I receive through the site daily. I don't think my use of tumblr as my sole social media has been unhealthy, per se, but certainly yesterday felt both quieter and calmer after I walked away.

But that's a temporary relief, because you are my community, and not only do I not want to leave my community, it's a resource for me. One of the reasons I do things like Radio Free Monday and the weekly Hug on Saturdays is that I try to make sure that resource is reciprocal. Leadership involves service. Leaving would be easy in the short term, but in the long term, leaving my community without having another place to meet it, or another community to go to, would be harmful to both of us. I'm already someone who isolates, and while I have a strong brickspace circle of friends, they fulfill sometimes different needs.

Though I do appreciate the wild vote of confidence from the comments to my last post telling me people would come with me where I went. That means a lot to me. I will attempt to make it either unnecessary or as painless as possible. Just know, I see your faith and friendship and I appreciate it.

Sometimes at my old job I'd be in very tumultuous meetings where a lot was discussed and not much agreed on, and the most useful thing to me was always to say, "What are our next steps? What would you like me to do because of this meeting?" So what are next steps, all this being the case?

First, I'm going to be off Tumblr, mostly, for another couple of days, because clearly I need the break and a few days won't matter too much. Again, I will be back either to continue on the site or to let you guys know, at length and volume, where I'm headed. The former is much more likely.

Second, I'm going to be actively looking for both a widget I can install to reset the dash (recommendations welcome, I currently don't even use xkit) and a wholly new platform that's a realistically viable alternative. Even if the dash gets reset, the shitty post editor is here for good. Attempts to source alternative platforms in the past have taught me that it needs to have a mobile-friendly site or an app, a similar structure to tumblr, and a reasonable chance of actually attracting users. That's a heavy venn diagram unlikely to be fulfilled anytime soon, but I'm now invested in finding it, instead of just passively waiting for it to happen to me (as Tumblr did when it pulled me off LJ).

Third, I do have an email newsletter in the works! I'm just wrestling currently with setting up how people sign up for it. This wasn't meant to be "my main broadcast platform"; it's meant to be a once-monthly email to share book news, targeted at people who aren't on socials or who just really love content from me, I guess. :D The plan was for me to assure Tumblr users that it was not extra content, just select content repackaged into a digest. But it will be one way to ensure that if I'm moving around outside of Tumblr, you'll know about it. I hope to have a link to a signup page soon. (I'm....dealing with some code issues.)

Fourth, I'm going to be combing through the last ten years I've spent here and pulling anything I think is of value into an archive. For now everything will remain here as well, and I'll let you guys know if I think that's going to change, but it's clear that this space is moving only one direction, towards a place I can't exist, and when/if it crumbles I want to have already evacuated what's important.

So there you go. I'll possibly be posting sporadically (the Saturday Hugs are queued six months in advance so that'll happen) but if nothing else and if not sooner, I'll be back full-time next week starting with Radio Free Monday. I appreciate your patience and your kindness in the meantime!

[ninety-two-bees]

snippet game!

thank you @starsworth for the tag <3

rules! if you get tagged, reblog with roughly 100 words of a WIP. no explanation, just the snippet

There is a peculiar kind of grief that comes with learning that your father can bleed. You spend a lifetime making armour out of his image, wearing his courage as a hand-me-down, hoping someday you’ll grow into it. And one day—when you least expect it; when you’re least prepared—your father is no longer a father. He is just a man, and you are just a collection of the most fragile parts of him.

Harry was already half-grown when his parents found him; the lost son of Gotham City’s favourite billionaire couple. But before he knew them as James and Regulus, he knew them as Batman and Catwoman. And maybe that’s what doomed him. At only eleven years old, how was he supposed to know that there is no line between hero and father and mortal? Batman became his shield, and his father’s heroism made him invincible.

np tags!! @theicarusconstellation @mothbart @angel-daydreams @itsjaywalkers @regscupid @honeybcj @aurorboros @kaaaaaaarf @velanavis and anyone else who wants to join <3

[dhrmonth]

How to Post for Dramione Month 2024

We will be celebrating Dramione Month across four platforms: Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram, and of course AO3.  We will be tracking the tag #dramione month (with a space) on Tumblr and #dramionemonth (no space) on Twitter. We will be reblogging all relevant posts tagged with #dramione month and retweeting the same on Twitter. We will be reposting all items tagged with #dramionemonth on our Instagram stories. There is also an AO3 collection. Feel free to post on all four platforms if you so choose!

If you post for a prompt that hasn’t come up yet, (for example, posting day 20’s prompt when it’s September 14th) we won’t share the post until the indicated day comes up. We will reblog/retweet for previous days’ prompts if you post past the indicated day!

We’ll go over the AO3 collection further down in the FAQ. Posting to the collection is not required. Feel free to post on whichever platform(s) you’d like! 

On Tumblr

- We will be posting the daily prompt as an image post every day! Feel free to reblog and add your relevant work underneath, we’ll reblog your post!

- We will also be tracking #dramione month and will reblog any stand-alone posts as well. If you are posting separately, please indicate the Prompt/Day your work is for somewhere near the top so we can tag it in our reblog!

- Please tag any relevant content or trigger warnings at the top, if applicable.

- We will be tagging all posts we reblog with both the week theme and individual day prompt for easier navigation.

- Again, we wanted to reiterate that Dramione Month is open to all types of creative works. Feel free to post art pieces, sketches, drabbles, socmeds, ficlets, one-shots, WIP fics, etc.

- We will also be posting a round-up of works posted to the AO3 collection at the end of each day.

On Twitter

- We will be posting the daily prompt as an image tweet every day! Feel free to quote retweet and add your relevant work – we’ll retweet your post!

- We will also be tracking #dramionemonth all month and will retweet any tweets tagged as well. Please indicate the Prompt/Day your work is for at the top.

- Please tag any relevant content or trigger warnings at the top, if applicable.

- Again, we wanted to reiterate that Dramione Month is open to all types of creative works. Feel free to post art pieces, sketches, drabbles, socmeds, ficlets, one-shots, WIP fics, etc.

- We will also be posting a round-up of works posted to the AO3 collection at the end of each day!

On Instagram

-Instagram is our newest platform addition this year. We will be posting the daily prompt as an image post every day! Feel free to add to your stories/pages and add your relevant work underneath. We will be reposting to our stories!

-We will be tracking those who tag us @Dhrmonth on Instagram and those who tag #DramioneMonth on instagram. Relevant posts will be reposted to our stories.

- Please tag any relevant content or trigger warnings at the top, if applicable.

- Again, we wanted to reiterate that Dramione Month is open to all types of creative works. Feel free to post art pieces, sketches, drabbles, socmeds, ficlets, one-shots, WIP fics, etc.

- We will also be posting a round-up of works posted to Instagram at the end of each day!

On AO3

- Dramione Month’s 2024 AO3 collection is [here]. Each Daily prompt is its own Prompt that you can claim as part of the collection; this includes the weekly Free Days! You are free to claim as many or as few as you’d like.

- All works posted to the collection will be hidden and anonymous until the relevant day/prompt occurs, i.e. if you post a work for the Day 20 prompt, it will remain hidden and anonymous until September 20th. Works posted for a previous date’s prompt will not be hidden.

- Works with sensitive and explicit content, including dead doves, are allowed. Please use AO3’s tagging system for all relevant warnings and potentially triggering content. Works with ‘Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings’ will not be allowed.

- Works do not have to be complete to post. We encourage WIP works.

- The collection will remain open until October 15th 2024 after the end of Dramione Month to allow for late claiming and posting. Please feel free to post for past days during the month as well!

-When posting to the AO3 collection, you are free to post all your works for Dramione Month as a single AO3 work, with each prompt as a separate chapter. If this is the case, please claim one of the final Free Day (either Day 29 or Day 30) prompts. The only drawback we can see from this is that AO3 now limits how many tags a work can have, thus you may not be able to tag everything relevant for your single work. Another possible downside is that some readers may be turned off by a long wall of tags, with no easy way to know which chapter which tags apply to.

We recommend posting each prompt claim as a single work, and placing each of your works in a series (separate from our Collection) so readers can navigate easily through your prompt fills by clicking 'Next Work' at the bottom of each work.

-When your work is revealed, please remember to change the posting date to the current date!!

- Again, posting to AO3 is optional. 

Hopefully we managed to address many of the questions raised by the community. Please let us know if anything is unclear or of any further questions. We aim to make this as clear as possible.

[sodaliteskull]

Writeblr Reintro

Now that I am free from tumblr purgatory, and actually have some free time, I figured I may as well reintroduce myself!

I'm Steph, legal adult and she/they queer living in the mildest climate in Canada. I write pretty much exclusively sci-fi and fantasy, and I fill my casts of characters out with mostly ladies because I am really tired of hearing about dudes! I have five main WIPs I'm rotating around in my mind at any given moment:

The Silent Island of Crow intro post A forum RP currently being reworked into book formatting, it's about a bunch of weirdos getting up to shenanigans and dealing with threats from their pasts and elsewhere. Started really juvenile and grew to be more serious in tone, jarringly so, but there's still some interesting kernels in there...

The Island of Crows intro post ...So my best friend and I are taking those kernels and making something that's a little more consistent and in line with where our writing skills are now! Currently in the planning stages, but the core of it will remain the same: A bunch of weirdos getting up to shenanigans on an island they've all been pulled to for one reason or another.

The Starcrossed Cycle intro post The solo adventures of some of the characters I am going to be bringing to the Island of Crows, before they actually get there. Iradurel is a criminal frozen in time, and Ryla is the monster hunter that finds and frees her. The two of them will come to realize that this is not the first time they've been pulled into each other's orbits.

Abyssal Scrutiny intro post Look, I saw Power Rangers at a formative age, so super sentai shit is always at the back of my mind! So this is my take on the genre, where a group of people are granted powers from a mysterious source, in order to fight against eldritch abominations in some sort of parallel realm. Only, as Morgan uncovers, there is more going on than just fighting monsters of the day.

The Moons of Boryarlta intro post This started life with the intent of being a lesbian rewrite of a mecha anime, but has spiralled into an unholy hodgepodge of sci-fi genre nonsense. Stuck in a dead end job just trying to make rent, Cass didn't think she'd ever have the chance to leave her hometown, let alone her planet. But then she's captured and thrown into a gladiator arena on another world, and her life just gets weirder from there.

Beyond those, I have a couple random ideas that are percolating, so I may have more to add in the future. But for on here, I am always down for tag games (lol just late to respond to them!), love to hear about all the weird shit that people are writing about outside of the traditional publishing scene, and reblog a lot of images and words that remind me of my WIPs (I try to keep my tagging system organized). Gimme a follow if any of that sounds like your cup of tea!

[clowndream]

hi im open for commissions because i need money to live

ive been unemployed for just over a month now and the job hunt isn't going super well, i just need funds for groceries + gas until i get my first paycheck somewhere

you can DM me to request a comm here on tumblr (anons will be ignored), on twitter, or through discord

reblogs are SUPER appreciated

(plaintext ver of images under the cut)

CLOWNDREAM is open for commissions!

Headshots are $20 +$15 per extra character

Fullbodies are $60 +$45 per extra character

Chibis are $40 +$30 per extra character

How to commission me:

Contact me on Tumblr (clowndream), Twitter (clown_dream), or Discord (@clowndream)

Tell me what you want! Ask questions! I'll ask a lot of them too!

Payment will be done through Paypal in USD. I will need your Paypal email to send the invoice.

I will send a screenshot of the WIP sketch before asking for full payment.

Drawings will take from 5-20 days depending on complexity (or more if it's a special case.)

YES! I will draw...

Fanart

OCs

DND characters, WoLs, sonas, etc

Gore + Body horror

Monsters

Nudes

Ship Art

ASK! I might* draw...

Furries

NSFW

Reference sheets or character designs

Full illustrations

Sketch pages

Short comics

* Please ask first, prices may vary!

NAH! I won't draw...

Animals/ferals

Mecha

Ponies

Landscapes/detailed BGs

Real people

Hateful imagery

Important information:

All drawings will automatically come with flats. If you'd like rendering/shading as well, it will be an additional $10-20. If you don't want flats at all/just lineart, I'll knock $5-10 off the total price.

I have the right to refuse any commission for my own personal reasons.

Asking for major changes after the initial sketch is approved may incur an additional fee.

Commissions may take longer if I already have a lot in my queue.

Feel free to ask me questions at anytime or ask for updates!

[fragilecapric0rnn]

wip wednesday thursday!

thank you for the tag @figthefruitfaeth !!!!! i, too, have been bitten by many writing bugs (or maybe its the adhd meds) and i am ready to write some damn WORDS

Rules

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

WIPs

chapter 5: robin (young scrappy and hungry the political ronance au)

ch1 (of the buck/tk fic that i have committed to writing for an audience of Me)

3: the one where we hate our jobs (stranger things friends au my beloved has returned from the dead)

Snippet: (from Young, Scrappy, and Hungry)

A ding comes out of the speaker, pulling her attention, an iMessage. 

Nancy Wheeler Heard you’re in town. 

And suddenly, Robin is transported back to Nancy’s bedroom. An image of her mouth on her - 

“Sweetie, I think your phone is buzzing.” Her dad snaps her out of her horny daydream. 

“This is Robin,” She answers, without looking at the caller ID. But recognizes that scoff. 

“God, you would answer the phone like that.” Nancy says, Robin holds the phone between her ear and her shoulder so she could wipe her instantly clammy hands on her pants. 

“Oh shut up, I will have you know that important people call me up.” Robin snips, standing up abruptly from her chair, heading for the backyard for privacy. 

“So are you?” She asks, in her coolest Nancy Wheeler tone, one that Robin is starting to recognize, noticing the slightest sliver of pitch that makes it noticeably different from when she actually is cool. 

For a moment, Robin considers making her ask the entire question. Considers playing dumb, like she didn't see the text light up her phone, like she hadn’t been watching her phone all for the past two months, waiting for something, anything, any ounce of attention from Nancy. 

“I sure am,” Robin clicks the backdoor shut behind her. “You’d probably know that if you answered any of my damn texts.” 

“I don’t even need to begin explaining to you how busy it’s been for me.” 

“Too busy to see me?” 

“I didn't say that.”

Tags:

@judasofsuburbia @kkpwnall @fastcardotmp3 @gideoncharov

@cheatghost @snowangeldotmp3

+ anyone who sees this and wants to do it <33

[cleverclovers]

I'm Parker, Shady, Clover, Teej, whatever you wish to call me. I'm a queer disabled artist on social security because stress makes my brain shut down like a computer trying to run windows 7 in this day and age--I have a seizure disorder previously thought to be epilepsy but currently under evaluation for another seizure disorder diagnosis, I'm autistic, I have hearing loss and mobility difficulties due to nerve connection issues relating to previously stated seizure disorder being untreated for most of my life.

I'm without a roommate, in an apartment I can barely afford, with no options to move to a cheaper place, and no way I can negotiate a lower rate. I previously had a roommate, this an easier time with life, only occasionally struggling, or wanting to reach beyond my means for a little comfort.

My entire check goes into rent and bills, it's not a big check by any means, the govt doesn't really want disabled people to live on their own, it seems like, and I wind up relying on what's left of my patreon after bills to try to make ends meet. Those ends include my three cats. One is elderly, the other two are comparatively very young. I cannot afford them right now, but rehoming or surrendering them is not an option. I know someone will come into my dm's or ask box and say that to me, so let me get this out of the way: the only way I can manage to get up every morning and find it in myself to work on art is those three cats.

As such, I'm willing to pick up as many commissions, over load myself with obligations, to make those boys lives as comfortable as possible. Right now I need to buy dry food, litter, and a new litterbox because one of the ones I have currently is difficult to clean and change. I also need help with people food, because I have medical dietary restrictions, and that's not cheap. I'm out of food stamps for the month and don't get more until the 8th. I can't just go to a food bank for that. I will continue to need assistance with their care until I can manage to get a housing voucher for section 8. That can take months.

My art rates are ridiculously low, my turn around rate without deadlines is less than stellar, I'm doing my best to keep my patreon up to date with my personal pieces, done to keep myself from hating my commission pieces and starting over on them all. However, if you have a specific deadline you need to meet, say Valentine's, or a special occasion, please let me know ahead of time. I do keep in touch throughout the process, sharing wips of the piece in the works so my clients can tell me if I need to make changes.

As for prices, right now:

10 usd for sketches (commission for LivingRadio used with permission)

20 USD for inks

50 usd for simple colors

90 for full color with a background (commission done for Ocarinaruler used with permission)

I take pa yp al (rosesinclover0914@gmail.com) , v3nmo or ca$happ (Rosesinclover) and have pa tr eon and ko-fi (also Rosesinclover) if you want to help long term and see the projects that almost never reach fruition, though I use ko-fi the least

These are the boys who help me live my life and cut down on my seizures. The orange one is Jerry (one and a half years old), the tuxedo is Loki (a nickname, his true name is very long. He's 7) and the brown tabby is Bean (17, a good sleepy boy in early renal failure--his kidneys are starting to go. There's nothing I can do about it that won't cost hundreds, so I'm just making sure he's comfortable until it's time)

This is my cat specific Amazon wishlist

Thank you for your time and consideration. I'd appreciate reblogs to increase the reach, and will consider price increases if enough people request it.

Sincerely, a very stressed out pet parent

Change log: put an updated full color image reference, noted which pieces were commissions and for whom they were done. Added kitty wishlist. Feb 16, 2024 Lowered simple color and colored pryces. Mar 10, 2024 removed bean photo as he no longer benefits from food or clean litter August 3 2024

[bittersweetresilience]

sunny's favorite asukiess creations

hearth (18,589 words)

Because how do you describe a dream once you wake up, when it’s fleeting and slipping through the cracks in your mind like it’s a sieve? You can barely wrap your lips around the concepts and words before you realize it has slipped through like water, and what lay in your hands is just a pang in your chest? When every moment away from it clouds your mind just a little more, until the memories are threadbare? or: Adrien understands what it means to have a home.

Back when I first met Autumn I was on a reading spree and I saved this fic for last and it just completely stunned me. I remember whipping out a textbox page to annotate for my comment, and that's what kicked off insanely long commenter™ Sunny. No matter what Autumn says! This! Is! My! Favorite! Autumn! Fic! At least until I see the secret one she won't let me see... but no, it will always be special to me.

the secrets we keep (14,661 words)

In the wake of a summer that Adrien never wanted to end, all that he wishes to push away comes back to haunt him when the school years starts again: self-doubt from identities that feel no more real than anything else; ghosts of parents who still talk to him; and most all, a fear that the people he loves will leave him in time, too. however, maybe the person who can relate most to him is the one he's never far from.

The best memories of reading this fic as Autumn wrote it and chatting about it and being teased with every Félix mention and being in love with her mind forever and always... if you've ever liked an asukiess meta post or idea post you'll love this. Combination of all of those beautiful things.

wip i saw as of yesterday

Perhaps premature to put it on this list but I have to include it because it was a taste of AUTUMN ORIGINAL WRITING!!!!!!!! AUTUMN ORIGINAL CHARACTERS!!!!!!!! And theater kid Autumn, too. Autumn could be published... Autumn could do anything... if those fools don't get it I'll start my own Autumn publishing company...

switching shenanigans (1,337 words)

Félix.............. first Autumn Félix.............................

felinette fics

FERAL EXPLODE BOOM DECEASED GRAVE HEADSTONE FIRE HOUSE EMOJIS

The art piece whose WIP inspired a fic out of me which was Autumn and my friendship's origin story... FUCKING NATHALIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I accept this. Such a drop dead gorgeous piece.

The most insane fic ever with the most insane fic art ever... WITNESS!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

EEEEEEEEEMOOOOOOOOOOTIOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love how much Autumn loves this piece, every time she reblogs it it makes me happy. Get some horror in this Felinette tonight.

POLAROIDS I LOVE THEM. LOVEYBUG AU WEEK I LOVE YOU

Can you even function after looking at this. They. Shrimping.

HE'S EVERYTHING TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

This is criminally underrated... Look At Him. HIS FUCKING BUNNY

I ran out of link blocks but I also wanted to share Unrequited. HAMBDS.

AND AUTUMN'S SUPER SECRET LOVEYBUG ZINE WIP

AUTUMN AND HER CLASSICS!!!!!!!!!! AUTUMN AND HER HUMONGOUS BRAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I worship this. It's all Autumn, I just helped with images.

Okay, I was slightly more involved with this one, but Autumn's contributions literally made it 1 billion times better and I will forever cherish the memory.

Hnwhnfhwnfjgnhsnghsnhsfshwhgwnhgwghgh... Emilie...

autumn's felinette and adrifelinette thoughts

Just in general. I am so lucky.

autumn's friendship

I scrolled through our pinned messages and almost cried laughing...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blind Offer 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that’s too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, additional characters to come

Note: I've been feeling a bit off lately so thank you all for distracting me. This is one of my Corrupt-A-Wish requests but I won’t reveal which one right away because it’ll be part of the plot!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

After closing, you’re due for an opening shift. The abrupt shift in your schedule leaves you little off-time but right on the other side, you have a much needed day off. You’re relieved not to be left to think too much in the unfamiliar house and hopeful that by the time your time off comes, your apartment will be ready for your return.

That morning, you’re running on coffee and the promise of the cinnamon bun you bought on your way in. You work through the price changes in the digital imaging section. The cameras are the biggest pain as you have to unlock the cases to replace the old tags.

You get to the Sony section and end up on your knees, fighting the glass door as it rolls off the track. The podcast buzzing in your ear fades as your frustration gets the best of you. You lean back, your shoulder brushing against an unexpected presence behind you.

You wince and pop your earbud out, craning to look over your shoulder at the man browsing cameras past you. His eyes meet yours with a twinkle as he points to the case, “you know much about these?”

You shake your head, “sorry.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smirks, the expression made devious by the trim of dark blond across his lip. He squats down beside you, “nah? I was looking for a starter camera but I need something with strong range.”

You nod and force a smile, “um, well, these are pretty basic, I think. They don’t have any extra lenses,” you look around, searching for one of the DI salesmen, “I could find someone–”

“I’m asking for your help, honeybun,” he coos, “what’s the zoom on these things?”

You feel heat speck on your forehead and cheeks. You’re not the best with customers. It’s easy enough if they know what they’re looking for but you’re useless with telling them what they need. You turn back and grab one of the small boxes. You turn it over and read the specs.

“Uh… 30x zoom…” you say, “I guess that’s pretty good.”

“Hmm,” he clicks his tongue, “I’m looking for something stronger. Stronger’s always better, isn’t it, sugarpie?”

His strange pet names put you off. Some old ladies will call you hon and some old men will call you young lady, but he’s a lot younger and not as endearing. You put the camera back and look along the row.

“Yeah, I think maybe you need to look at the bigger cameras,” you point over the case, “they’re along that wall–”

“You like it bigger?” He intones with a snicker, “you a size queen?”

You recoil, taken aback by his suggestion. Ew. You shake your head and turn back to the case, “sorry, sir, I don’t know anything about cameras. I’ll see if I can get a salesman over here.” You grab the wire of your headset and hit the button, “can I get someone over to DI?”

You let go of the button as the earpiece crackles. The man doesn’t move, “you know, I don’t mind a little extra. Especially in the trunk.”

You ignore him as you peel away the fresh stickers and press them to the front of the shelves. The heat of his lingering figure has you unable to get your fingernail under the corner of a label. You want to run and hide in the warehouse. You’re just too nervous to tell him to go away, Gwen would write you up.

“Hey,” Jamie appears from the other end of the aisle, “looking for a camera, sir?”

The man behind you doesn’t stand right away. When he does, he reaches close to you, gripping the top of the case to push himself up to his feet. You turn and mouth a thank you to Jamie as he gives a long look at the man behind you.

“Sure am,” the customer brushes by you closely. You watch the back of his head, shaved close around the sides, the top pieces longer and slicked back neatly. He walks with a certain lean to his step, his shoulders squared, his gait confident but casual. He gives you the ick.

You focus on your sheet of price changes. He’s not your problem anymore. You just hope you can through that section before he finds what he’s looking for. You somehow suspect he’s in no hurry to leave.

🖤

You get back to the townhouse just after five. It’s later than you usually get in but you’re just happy to be done. You haven’t been able to shake that feeling that’s followed you all day. Ever since that man approached you in the store, you’ve felt as if you’re being watched.

You walk the block and a half from the nearest stop and turn onto the quiet street of newly built townhouses. Despite the sighting of a neighbour, it still feels derelict. You check the number beside the door as you head up the walk to the doorstep. As you do, you hear a whistle.

You stop and turn back as you hear footsteps approaching. It’s only then you notice the white van parked along the far curb. A man runs over in a blue uniform with a box under his thick arm. Burly and broad, you almost cower as he waves and approaches.

“You live here?” he asks as his eyes flick up to the iron numbers mounted besides the door, “number four?”

“Um, I’m… crashing here, yeah,” you swallow, “it’s actually not my place–”

“I got a package,” he shifts the parcel and reads the label. 

You can just see his features beneath the shadow of his cap brim, long lashes, square jaw, a touch of stubble and a thick mustache across his lip. You hate that those are making a comeback. You shiver as it reminds you of the man in the store, but this man has darker hair, a curl poking out from his hate.

“For Steve Rogers?”

“Yeah, erm, that’s my landlord. This is his place,” you point over your shoulder with the thumb.

“Right, well, it doesn’t need a signature, so if you could pass it off to him.”

“I don’t know–”

“I don’t really feel like driving back out here tomorrow. This isn’t my route,” he says tersely.

You snap your mouth shut. Wow, okay. You shrug and reach out to take the box.

“Sure, I can get it to him. Sorry.”

“Thanks,” he hands it over and looks back and forth down the street, “quiet neighbourhood, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess… just finished development so–”

“Fancy places. Expensive,” he continues on, “your landlord must really like you.”

You frown and hug the package, “uh, he’s nice. Anyway, I’m sure you got other deliveries to make.”

He scoffs as you turn away. You’re succinctly aware of him as you move your body to block the code as you punch it in. 

“Too good for the delivery boy,” he mutters darkly, “have a good day, miss fancy pants.”

“Have a good day,” you squeak and push your way into the townhouse, spinning to shut the door.

You twist the latch as you lean on the door. You slowly lean over and peek past the curtain. The delivery man smirks at the barrier between you before turning and strolling back the way he came. You shudder and turn to put the box down. You really thought for a moment he might try to follow you inside.

You shake out your nerves. It’s just been a really weird day. Well, few days.

You pull out your phone and text Steve to let him know he got a package. You put your cell on the counter as you enter the kitchen. You planned on ordering food to celebrate your coming day off but it’s too much trouble dealing with another stranger.

You go through the fridge and cupboards and settle on the bag of hand rolled tortellini with the jar of alfredo. You’re no expert chef but you can follow instructions. It’s a quick enough dinner. You eat it at the table against the wall, a video playing on your phone. 

A notification pops up at the top of the screen, Steve saying thanks. You don’t bother replying but another flips up in quick succession. ‘How is everything?’

You finish your pasta before you reply. You rinse your dishes and leave them in the rack. You take the phone upstairs, typing as you climb.

‘Doing fine. Everything’s well. Thanks for checking in.’

Easy and to the point. You don’t want to have some stunted text chat with your landlord, you don’t even want to talk to your friends, you’ve been dying all week to try the bathtub.

You turn on the faucet and the water spills out, steam quickly rising as you adjust the temperature. You go to the counter and search your pouch for your body scrub. You pause as you find it empty. Weird.

You look around. Your toothbrush is in the cup and your toothpaste and mouthwash on the small shelf that holds it. Where is everything else? You check the drawer, your face creams and cleanser are all there. Even your deodorant and body lotion. 

You peek at the tub and see your jar of scrub already sitting on the sharp edge brim. You don’t remember putting all that away. Why would you? You’re not going to be here forever. You don’t know, you were so tired that morning, you can’t even remember brewing your coffee.

You blow out the tension. Stop worrying. It’s fine. It’s little things that you’re overthinking. As usual. 

You undress and leave your clothes on the counter. You approach the tub and lower yourself down with a sigh. Oh yeah, this is living. The tub is nice and big, you don’t feel crammed in like your own place. You better enjoy it while it lasts.

🖤

The bedroom becomes a haven in the large house. You go downstairs in search of snacks, planning to veg out a bit before you inevitably fall asleep watching Youtube commentary videos. You find some trail mix with M&Ms mixed in it but are disappointed to discover a dearth of carbonated beverages in the fridge. You opt for the tropical twist juice in the sleek glass bottle.

You retreat with your meagre haul and create a nest in the bed. You grab your phone and flip past the several notifications waiting on the home screen. You scroll through Youtube until you land on something suitably dramatic. You pull down the taskbar and flick away several notifs.

Steve’s message is the last. It kinda creeps you out but the time stamp assures you it’s merely a coincidence. ‘I bought some snacks. Hope you found them. Wasn’t sure what you liked.’

You resist clicking on the bubble and swipe it away with the rest. You don’t want to leave him on read and you don’t think he’d appreciate your response. Granola and coconut water aren’t much of a snack.

You shimmy down under the covers and prop up your phone on the bedside table. You lean into the pillow and lazily munch, Your mind wanders away from the petty online drama. Work, your apartment, several strange encounters… hopefully life calms down soon. You mind your business, you don’t need the trouble. You prefer to be a witness, not an active participant.

You drain the last of the juice as the mix of almonds, peanuts, and cranberries leaves your mouth dry. You get up to brush your teeth as you listen through the open door to the edited clips from TikTok. As you come back to bed, you feel the day catch up to you.

You yawn and shut off the light. Ugh, you’re so suddenly tired. It’s not unusual to be wiped after clopening but damn, you’ve never felt this heavy. You pull the blanket up to your chin and your phone screen blurs in your eyes. You let the low drone ease you down to sleep.

It’s as if no time passes at all. No dreams, no awareness, just a thick void that makes your head hurt. You wake with a start.

Your phone gleams from beside you but Youtube is no longer open. The light is on, blaring in your vision as you sit up. Jeez, you must be totally zonked. You probably got up to go pee and don’t even remember.

You reach for your phone and check the time. It’s just after midnight. An hour or two since you passed out. The blanket falls away from your shoulders and you look down at the cold wash across your chest. The straps of your tank top droop down your arms as the fabric is wrinkled below your tits as they hang out. 

You fix your top, it’s not unusual. You’ve woken up more times than you count with your shirt all twisted. It’s why you never had roommates. You shove the blanket further down, your shorts are askew as well, caught in the crease of thigh and pelvis. You fish around to tug the loose opening free and find it damp. Ugh, you’re sweating from your little cocoon of body warmth.

You push yourself towards the edge and pause. You feel oddly sensitive, almost raw. You rise and stretch, reaching down to check yourself. You’re wet. Like really wet. You must’ve had some wild dreams but you can’t remember any of them. 

You take your cell to the bathroom with you and relieve yourself. You pull up your cycle tracking app. Ah, first day of ovulation. Horny time.

You come back to the bedroom and burrow back under the blankets. As you wiggle down, you feel something roll against you. You put your phone beside your pillow and snake your hand around to grab the tiny cylinder. You raise the small bullet vibrator and frown. Wasn’t that in your beauty bag?

You place it on the night table and take your phone. Well, you seem to be pretty absent-minded lately. First your toiletries, now this. You’ll have to do a sweep of the house tomorrow and make sure you have everything together. You won’t be there much longer.

Still, you’re unsettled by the momentary lapse in consciousness, but your lingering grogginess keeps you from panicking. You’ll just put on another video. It should distract you enough to calm you down.

[peridyke]

How many comics do you have? and where can I find them?

thank you for asking!!!!

sadly right now i don’t have any finished comics to show off as I only recently got the time to seriously work on my art BUT i do have a variety of projects that i can show off! there’s some stuff i’m actively working on and other stuff that’s more of a back burner thing but let me list out everything i’ve done/have planned on doing

1) angel bites

ok so my current project i’m working on right now is called angel bites and it’s actually going to be a fun lesbian erotica comic about an angel girl and devil girl who are bandmates and who secretly hook up on the side. i’m currently in the process of thumbnailing this one and i’m guessing it’s gonna be around 60 or so pages. once im done i’m gonna have the comic up on patreon/have it for sale digitally on a platform like itch.io BUT the first 20ish pages are sfw so I will post those publicly for free so i can show off my work and characters.

i designed these in universe pin ups that i haven’t posted publicly yet and even though i wanted to wait until i finish the third one in the series that’s a little sillier theyre my most recent and best looking art of the characters

2) sacrificial lamb

sacrificial lamb was my main focus for a bit but i’ve taken a break from it for the time being to work on other projects. it’s a more serious project than anything else i’ve been doing but it’s one i’ve been planning out since 2021 and that i do want to seriously look into getting published when it’s finished. it is a lesbian horror comic about a butch lesbian rabbit whose femme cat girlfriend gets sucked into the darker side of new age spiritualism. here is my WIP of the cover and a finished page

3) claw wrench

this is a lower priority project of mine but one i still want to make exist in some form one of these days. it’s about a teenage cat named milly going to live with their estranged super genius mad scientist half sister named mindy and her robot assistant mr. rogato. it would be a newspaper strip style comic with a few larger plot threads. i might start it up one of these days after i’ve gotten some other comics under my belt and i feel like i have a better mental image of what i want the writing to be like. here’s some designs i did in 2021

4) be mine, valentine

this is a project featuring characters of mine who i’ve had for a few years but only recently decided i wanted to turn into a short story. it’s about a peryton coder named cupid who is unbeknownst to herself a trans girl egg discovering her identity after being hired by a trans girl sex worker unicorn named valentine to help build a website for her work. it’s a short but sweet little love story that i have to plan out better before i seriously work on it but i can see it being something i make in the near-ish future. there will be some nudity and sexual themes but nothing pornographic so i will upload it for free online when it’s done ^_^ sadly i um…don’t have a sfw drawing of valentine yet LOL so you’re just gonna have to deal with a cropped pic

5) thalassophobia

this is probably most relevant to peoples’ interest who follow me and something probably remember. thalassophobia is a really big steven universe fan comic i started writing to give lapis a more complete arc. i had a lot of passion for it back in 2022/23 but steven universe hasn’t been on my mind as much recently so it’s gone on the back burner. still i put a ton of work into it so i’d like to come back and finish writing it one day, although for the actual comic process i might see about getting some help on pages and colors and such since considering the scale i think it’s way too big for me to do solo. here’s a cover and a few test pages i did

I HAVE ONE MORE COMIC TO TALK ABOUT BUT IVE USED UP THE IMAGE LIMIT i’m gonna finish in a reblog so give me a second

[xenon-demon]

WIP Weekend! 🖋️

So I've been tagged in various WIP games this week by @stobinesque @penny00dreadful and @steves-strapcollection - thank you all Very Much for the tags!! <3 (even if the tags were because I am an Enabler Of Fic, I recognise my true calling is to be a hype man and writing is my side gig lmao)

Anyway I have a reasonably free weekend this weekend and a BURNING DESIRE to get something ao3-ready. Also FYI these rules are a slightly modified version of the ones Sam (penny00dreadful) is using, because I am using the "Fuck It We Ball" approach and cobbling together all the various WIP games into something that will work for me.

🎆 Rules 🎆

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

I am listing my WIP names as a poll; the poll will run for 24 hours and at the end I'll do the maths on how many votes each WIP received. I'll then set a goal to write 100 words per vote* for each WIP, and make a post of the vote breakdown for accountability! (*I may change this to be more than 100 words per vote if I don't get many votes in total.)

Snippet from "steve overstimulation projection manifesto" (SOPM) under the cut!

So yeah. Eddie can’t handle sudden change, big deal.

Steve can, for the most part; he's a lot more adaptable. No, Steve's weakness is people.

It took Eddie a while to realize it, and even then, he didn't truly understand until after they'd started dating. After all, how could the former King of Hawkins High possibly find socializing difficult? Eddie remembers all those bitter glances he used to shoot King Steve's way, jealous of how effortlessly he commanded the court of public opinion - not that he'd ever admit to it. But then Steve fell from grace, underwent more character growth than Eddie thought one man was capable of, and now Eddie knows the truth: uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. (Eddie is forever in debt to his freshman year English teacher for pointing him in the direction of the battered copy of the Complete Works of Shakespeare in Hawkins Public Library. If only poor Mr Collins knew Eddie was only interested so he could use it as inspiration for D&D campaigns.)

Steve is absolutely charismatic; he knows how to tell people exactly what they want to hear, or make them feel special in a way that keeps them coming back for more. The catch is it's an intentional act. It's a mask that Steve used to be terrified he could never take off, as he mournfully confessed to Eddie one night while sharing a joint in the trailer. As it turns out, Steve just needed better friends; with Robin, with the kids, with Eddie, he finds it so easy to just be himself. He doesn't have to censor himself or fret over what image he's presenting to the world, and can instead relax and actually enjoy the company. Steve's joked around with Eddie before that it's actually kind of good for their relationship that Steve used to have to try so hard - he knows how to flirt without even consciously thinking about it. What Steve doesn't know is that he could go into graphic detail about the shape of his toenails and Eddie would still be listening with hearts in his eyes.

—————

And now some tags, both for visibility and as an invitation to join in if you'd like to/aren't already doing a writing game for the weekend! <3

@sailing-through-hawkins @onirislanding @inairbinad @eriquin @scarcrossdlvrs @patchworkgargoyle

[dreamwatch]

💜WIP Wednesday Friday 💜

Tagged by @hbyrde36 Thank you!

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post.

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Filenames (some of which are now titles):

Fell On Black Days (aka Prison Fic)

Like A Stone (aka Depressy Eddie)

Steve and Eddie 90s (erm... as it says 😂)

Seasons (aka Eddie discovers Grunge and moves to Montana)

I've only worked on Seasons since December, snippet below!

They head back to the motel, the mood sombre as Eddie walks shoulder to shoulder with Wayne, Steve comandeering Dustin to give them space. The ever-considerate Steven Harrington, ladies and gentlemen. “You’re heading off at six?” Eddie asks. Wayne hums in reply. Eddie has never seen his uncle talk as much as he has the last few days, this joyous little trio seemingly so comfortable in a way that stuns Eddie. But now, as they traipse along Main Street, Wayne is quiet and tense, an almost mirror image of Eddie. They’re both walking to the gallows, time running short for them both. “Listen to me, boy,” Wayne says, eventually breaking the silence. Eddie turns to face him and sees the tension in Wayne’s brow. “You can come home whenever you want. You know that right?” Eddie sighs. He’d been expecting it. “I know that.” “I just…” Wayne shakes his head a little like he’s trying to decide whether or not to carry on. But carry on he does. “I know there are things you haven’t told me. About Seattle.” Eddie begins to interrupt, but Wayne just raises his hand to cut him off. “I’m not asking you to tell me, and I’m not trying to make you guilty for keeping secrets. You’re a grown man, you’re entitled to your privacy.” “Can you tell Dustin that?” Eddie scoffs. Wayne let’s out a little laugh. “He’s something else, ain’t he?” "That's one way of putting it."  “Look," Wayne continues, "I just want you to know. I am proud of you. I always have been, always will be. But what you’re doing, working, going to school?” He shakes his head, a soft smile growing. “Jesus, you deserve it, is all. I know you’re going to do well. You’re a smart kid, I’ve always said it.” Eddie huffs a laugh, and Wayne cuffs him lightly, making him laugh harder. And then Wayne says, “It’s nice, hearing you laugh. I’ve missed it.” Guilt is a powerful thing. The longer he stays away from Wayne, the more he feels it.  The Hotel Finlen is the tallest building in Butte. Eddie found it fascinating how a ten-storey building could be so dominant, after spending the last few years in cities with skyscrapers. After a while they all blend into the background. But The Finlen stands tall and prominent, her terracotta window arches looking out onto the streets below her, the Motor Inn nuzzled up against her. And so it stands there like a gallows, as Eddie heads towards it with Wayne, Steve and Dustin. He fucking hates goodbyes. But this isn’t one he can run away from. There’s an uncomfortable moment outside their rooms where no one wants to be the first to make a move, before Steve walks up to him and hugs him tightly. Tells him not to be a stranger and then gently nudges Dustin for his turn. There’s promises whispered, and Dustin sniffles a little, but they’re men now, and it’s all good because they’ll see each other again soon, right? It’s fine. They’re fine.  Steve squeezes Dustin’s shoulder and pulls him inside, saying goodnight to Wayne as Eddie tells them to drive carefully tomorrow, “my Uncle is precious cargo!” and he just hopes that they didn’t hear the little crack in his voice, the tightness in his throat. Wayne pulls him into his room, tells him to sit, and pulls out a bottle of Buffalo Trace. He holds it up to Eddie with a sly smile. “One for the road? With your old man?” Eddie is on the fucking edge tonight, but that hurts, like Wayne just reached in and squeezed his heart. He can feel the heat rise up, but he makes a Herculean effort to not. Fucking. Cry.  So Wayne pops the lid, grabs the plastic-wrapped cups from the bathroom, and pours them to the top. And then, they talk.

No pressure tags, and I'm super late as always so apologies if you've already been tagged by someone else - just ignore me and enjoy your day!

(And if you're not writing right now, sorry for the bother.)

@cchapsticck @devilyouwere @hitlikehammers @thisapplepielife @occasionaloverboy @klausinamarink. @vthx @soaringornithopter @cranberrymoons @penny00dreadful