#but thank you to everyone for not just abandoning me

[azulcrescent]

Online i keep seeing people saying you've droped i want to be a cute anime girl and will never update it again i am not gonna pressure you to return to the story but i like you to confirm or deny these rumors please

I've answered this before so i'll paste the answer here.

Short answer : its not dropped, i have a severe mental block so i have trouble working on it.

Long answer : On Cute Anime Girl, its not abandoned. I'm currently dealing with a mental block. On the last arc, where Erica was explaining to Cheryl about HRT, a bunch of trans people said they didn't want to read it because they already knew it, and it kinda really irked me. uz I felt like trans people should be the last to have the "fuck you, got mine" and it soured my experience with the comic somewhat. I started thinking "im not sure i want to draw if this is my audience" but i know its unreasonable cuz its not everyone and i will try and i *am* trying to continue drawing it, but its hard. Because that's not everyone, and i do want to tell more of the story. Its just that i realized the story i want to tell might not be what people want to read, but ill still tell the story in my mind. thank you

[huh-i-guess]

Fever

(Task force 141 x F!reader)

Summary: While out on a mission you are injected with a substance that might lead to a shift in the dynamics between the 141.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, sex pollen, fingering, dub-con/non-con (under the influence of sex pollen), choking, nasty Simon, Gaz has morals

Word Count: ~ 4.2k

(Reader's callsign is Pepper)

I don't own MW2, the characters, or the gif above.

“What the fuck was that?” You shouted as you felt a sharp pricking sensation on your left ass cheek. You reached behind you to feel what was causing the sensation and groaned as you felt a syringe protruding from your behind. You looked down and noted that you had stepped on a pressure plate of some kind and triggered the laboratory’s defense mechanism.

“Oh fuck, lass.” Johnny mumbled.

“Shit, Pepper.” Gaz exclaimed in disbelief.

“No fucking way. Why does this shit always happen to me?” You yanked the dart-like needle from your behind and examined the leftover contents. The remaining contents appeared to be a blue syrup-like fluid. You sighed and pocketed the syringe hoping you could take it back to base to have it examined by the scientists at the lab. 

“Pepper, what was that?” Price called over the comms hearing the distress in everyone’s voices. Your thoughts ran at a mile a minute as you tried to figure out if you should tell your captain, that you probably had a mild crush on and always wanted to impress, that you just stepped on a trap. Or if you should lie. You hated lying to Price. It felt like you were letting him down and any time you did, you found yourself immediately retracting your statement and telling him the truth hoping he’d forgive your indiscretion. You readied your mouth to let out some kind of answer but snapped your mouth shut as you heard Gaz from your right side, “Looks like they tranqed Pepper or something. We were sweeping the lab and she was the first one in.” You turned your head toward Gaz and offered him a look that was a mix of thankfulness and regret. 

“Shite. You're still standing, lieutenant?” Price probed in a tone that, only those close to him could tell, was full of doubt and concern.

“Yes sir.” You pushed further into the lab taking extra care where your steps landed. The lab had been recently abandoned by russian terrorists working on some kind of bioweapon. You could only hope that you didn’t just get dosed with whatever they were concocting. As the three of you pressed further into the dingy lab you felt like the mass of your body was slowly doubling. 

“Soap. Gaz. If I drop, I need two to keep moving. We need to get this intel out of here as soon as we find it.” You could faintly hear the heavy footsteps of the terrorists behind you.

“No way in hell we’re leaving you behind.” Gaz contended. 

“Listen I-” 

You were quickly interrupted by Laswell’s voice in your ear, “Pepper. Evac will get to you and the boys in 11 minutes. It’ll be 2 clicks north of your current location. We’ll get you to the safe house from there.” 

“Copy.” You replied as Soap took a step closer and fixed his mouth to ready a response to your order. 

“Lass I don-”

“Listen. We don't have time for this. I don’t know what I got hit with but I know that at the moment we have a job to do. Let’s keep moving while I can and clear the files we came for. You will keep moving if I drop and that’s final. This mission can't be a waste of time.” You were met with an apprehensive “Yes Ma’am” and a “got it LT” and you snapped your head around to continue sweeping the lab. 

You knew you were being harsh but if you gave them room to argue you’d be stuck here going back and forth with them about it. Truthfully it was a ruse to make it look like you weren’t basically shitting bricks. You couldn’t stop the thoughts that flew through your mind.  I’m going to die today. Holy fuck I’m not making it out of this. I don’t know what I got hit with. How long do I have? You didn’t have much going on in your home life so the thought of a family didn’t even cross your mind until you thought about who around you did have one. Soap had his sisters back in Scotland that loved to “force” him to watch those really crappy rom-coms that he claimed he hated so much but then recommended for team bonding nights. Then you had Gaz who had his mom waiting at home for him. She always sent him care packages with little hand written notes that gave him updates on the status of his neighbors’ cat who had slowly been making itself comfortable on their property back in London. She even sent him photos of the cheeky little tuxedo cat. Your mind shifted from thoughts about yourself to thoughts about them. I have to get these boys out of here. They have so much going for them. They really are some of the best we have to offer. I can’t let them down. If I can't get out of here at least they can. 

Gaz went to the computer and plugged in a decryption device and began to sift through the scientist's digital files while Soap went through some of the scattered papers left in the room.

“They were in such a rush to get out of here they weren’t even effective at scrubbing their drives. Pep, I think I might have something.” You walked to the computer Gaz was stationed at and noticed a folder titled “Project Vitality”. 

“Good job, Gaz get it and we go. Soap anything?”

“A couple of poorly redacted files with the same name.” Soap chipped from your left. You made your way to him and patted his shoulder in praise.

“Alright we gotta move.” You heard the footsteps boom as the incoming enemies approached. You felt yourself slowly start to stall and noticed you had a difficult time focusing your eyes. It was like you were wearing a pair of glasses that weren’t meant for you and you couldn’t take them off. You willed your eyes to focus but it was becoming a hassle. Fuck me. You turned your head to Soap on your left and said, “Soap I need you to take point on the way out. I'll watch our backs as we exit.”

“Are you-” he started then pressed out a short, “Will do.” The look on his face was filled with so much concern, that for his sake, you almost wanted him to ask you if you were okay. He turned and rushed out of the room followed by Gaz and you at the back. The three of you navigated the winding corridors of the combatant base and made your way back, passing the rooms you had previously cleared. 

“Pepper. How we doing?” Price questioned over comms.

“Got the documents and drives, sir.”

“I know you did. That’s not what I’m asking about.”

“What kind of answer do you want, Cap?

“You know what I want to hear.” You knew Price wanted the truth but you couldn't let him know the fact that you might be starting to lose motor function and that the mass of your body felt like it had doubled. There was a large part of you that wanted to make him proud and craved his approval so the thought of disappointing him always stirred something deep inside you. But then there was Gaz and Soap. They were your sergeants and they often looked to you for guidance. The image they had of you rarely faltered from confidence and strength. They were right by your side and were clearly worried for you. If you told the truth to them they probably want to stop and question your status or maybe even try to do some kind of makeshift field evaluation on you and you’d definitely lose out on valuable time. 

A shaky, “I’m doing just fine, sir.” fell from your lips then silence. A sigh from Price that was then followed by a gruff, “Bring it in safe. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Of course sir.” You acknowledged. He knew you were lying. The slight tremor in your voice told him exactly what he needed to know. 

Soap led the three of you out of the compound but not without running into a couple of the remaining terrorists that missed your group upon arrival. You, although struggling to see and move, caught the slight movement as you three made your way to the entrance of the compound. A brown jacket sleeve that moved just a bit too slow was all you needed to gather that the combatants had reached your location. Years of intense practice and strenuous training had you firing your weapon with a practiced precision that was barely impacted by your declining physical state. 

As soon as you exited the compound you were met with a glaring brightness from the snow of the siberian tundra. The almost blinding whiteness was a massive contrast to the dimly lit compound so the massive shift in intensity had your head spinning. Gaz noticed you stumbling but only met you with a face of concern and a hand on your shoulder as he watched you struggle to get your bearings. 

Trekking through the Siberian tundra in your worsening condition was one of the hardest things you'd had to do in your career. The whirling of the wind was so intense that it felt like someone was screaming directly next to your ear and the pressure of it was enough to make your head pound. The snow was coming down so hard that each snowflake that hit your face felt like a tiny pin prick over and over again. Your feet were so deep in the snow that it felt like you were gaining an extra 20 pounds of weight with the effects of the drug starting to control your movements. You tried to pull yourself together. It was undeniable at this point that you would not be winning the battle against whatever medication they injected you with.

“2 minutes till evac” Ghost chimed in your earpiece. Your hearing was so sensitive that you could almost feel the loud mechanical static and the whirl of the helicopter in the background of his response.

“Oh my days. Ghost is the one flying us out? I don’t want to end up out the bloody chopper again” Gaz groaned. Oh. I wasn’t the only one to hear the helicopter then. 

“It was either me or you freeze out there, Sergeant.”

“LT, if you fly that thing the way you drive, Gaz might be better staying down here. Less chance of him getting thrown from the bloody thing.” Soap chirped. 

The world slowly started to look like a mass of colors and shapes with no definite beginning or end. The only thing you could do at this point was push and pray that you were gonna have enough strength to make it to the evac point. Everything was so intense that overwhelming wasn't even the right word to describe the feeling. You struggled to pick up your head as you began to hear another distinct whooshing sound that could only belong to that of a Puma HC2.

“I’m here aren’t I?” Soap and Gaz stopped moving as Ghost put the helicopter on the ground. 

“I’m glad you are sir. Good to see you, Ghost.” Soapsaid as he flung the door open and made his way on the aircraft.

“Always good to see that ugly mug of yours, Johnny.” Ghost turned his head to get a good look at everyone. “ Pepper, you don't look too hot.” Ghost concluded as you dragged yourself into the seat next to what you could have only imagined was Gaz. The words that came out of your mouth were something along the lines of “Not” and “Good” but no one really understood you with how slurred your response was. They did however understand that something was really wrong when your body slumped backward and went limp next to Gaz. You could vaguely hear the commotion of Gaz, Soap, and Simon, around you as they shouted your name and desperately tried to keep you from slipping out of consciousness. The last thing you heard was Price pressing to be informed on your state and him telling Ghost to get all of you to the safe house. 

---

“A neurotoxin that sends the body into overdrive. Increases nervous sensitivity and impulsivity, and impairs functionality of the prefrontal cortex and hippocampus.” Price read from the lab report with a stubby cigar in hand.

“Why the hell would they want to make something like that?” Gaz questions.

“Apparently in small doses it can be used as an aphrodisiac that it increases blood flow throughout the body, promotes sexual stamina, and increases pleasure outcomes? They must’ve been trying to develop something to sell on the streets.” Price continues.

“Right so they dosed her with super viagra?” Soap questioned. 

“That's what it sounds like?” Gaz said. 

“I thought that stuff didn't work on women?” Simon interjected. 

“It looks like they’ve altered it so it impacts both sexes but they haven’t been able to work out the less desirable symptoms. Tachycardia, fever, headache, dizziness, loss of consciousness, heart failure, and death.” Price paced as he read the outcomes. 

“Oh shit.”

“Heart failure? Death? How do we make sure that that doesn’t happen?” Gaz frantically questioned.

“The only way the toxin can be expelled from the body is through coitus…” Price trailed off as he dropped his cigar into a bowl. That can’t be right. He read it three times just to be sure and the words on the page didn’t change. 

“Steamin’ Jesus.” Soap deadpanned.

“No blood way.” Gaz stood with an open mouth. 

“Someone has to fuck her.” Simon said. 

---

When you awoke, you noticed you were lying on a firm mattress and were surrounded by the smell of smoke laced with a heavy sweetness that only came from Price’s cigars. You felt undeniably cold and couldn’t help but to shiver. You rubbed your fingers across your palms and felt them drenched in sweat. As you slowly began to turn to your side, you were overwhelmed with the feeling of the rough sheet that laid under you. 

“What the fuck?” You noticed that you had been stripped out of your vest and snow gear and were left in your black polyester thermals. You could feel every inch of fabric that you wore and immediately moved to take off the thermals. You were left in your sports bra and underwear.  Why am I taking off my clothes? I’m freezing? You ran your hands up and down your body trying to get a semblance of warmth but then decided that putting thermals back on would be too much for your unusually sensitive skin. As you dragged your hand down the sides of your thighs you couldn't help but notice how good it felt to touch yourself. You moved your hands to your inner thighs and couldn’t contain the moan that slipped from your mouth. You brushed your hand over the gusset of your panties and whined at the feel of your hand gliding over your already sensitive clit. 

“Pepper?” rushed out of Gaz’s mouth as he entered the room. He looked over to the pile of thermals on the end of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he probed.  When did Gaz get so attractive? He wore a red henley that hugged his arms perfectly and his soft curls made an appearance without the presence of his well worn UK hat. He made his way over to you and touched your forehead. “You’re burning up. Damn. The fever’s started.” The feeling of his hand on you was almost indescribable. He was warm and firm and exactly what you felt you needed at that moment. 

You felt yourself acting on purely impulse as you grabbed his hand and dragged it down to your mouth. You started to kiss his palm and moved your attention to his thumb. You placed it firmly between your lips and began to suck. “Oh fuck.” Gaz exhaled as he watched you with wide eyes. You continued your ministrations and moved from his thumb to his index and middle fingers. You began to lick around his digits before you engulfed them in your mouth with a guttural moan. You could taste the salt and gunpowder from the mission and it only made you crave him more. You lifted your gaze to him and willed your eyes to meet his. The groan that fell from his lips was divine. You removed his fingers from your mouth and helped his hand descend to where you really needed him. “Fuck. No. I can't do that princess. Not when you're like this.”

“But I really really want you to. Come on, Kyle. It’ll help me feel so much better.” You purred. Gaz let out a shaky breath, pulled his hand from you, and walked out the room but not without you noticing him readjusting himself in his pants. Fine, I'll do it myself. You sighed and pulled your panties down your legs till they rested at your ankles. You slid your fingers between your legs and gasped at how wet you were. You slowly started to trail your finger through your folds, collecting some of the wetness that had dripped from you and began to rub your clit. As soon as your finger pressed against your reactive little nub you were in heaven. You started in small circular motions and rubbed until you felt you needed more. You moved your other hand to your breast and tugged at your nipple. You kneaded and grabbed your breast like it was the key to your survival. You’ve never felt like this before. It's like you can feel everything, everywhere, all at the same time. You felt the rough fabric of the sheets, the scratchy wool of the pillow behind your head and you felt the soft cotton that was resting around your ankles.  You were still shivering from the fever but you felt like you could feel the stimulation of your clit in your toes. You needed more. 

You moved your hand from your plush breast to rest right at your soaked opening. You circled your middle finger a few times just to get it wet, and sank right into your leaking entrance. “Oh fuuuuuck”. You could feel the pressure of the finger at your walls as you started to curve your finger inside of yourself searching for your g-spot. You continued rubbing your clit and curling your finger inside of you hoping to seek your elease. It felt so good but it just wasn't enough. You slipped in another finger and moaned at the intrusion. You started to pant and whine with how good you were feeling, but you felt yourself needing more. You continued the calculated movements and felt your orgasm approaching. You just needed a little more. One more push to get you there. One curl of your finger turned to two, then to three, then the pleasure turned into frustration. “Fuuuuuuck.” You groaned as you  pulled your fingers from your body and layed on the mattress in a heap of sweat and frustration. You felt yourself slowly drift back into the unconscious void even as you worked to steady your breaths.  

---

“She sucked my fingers. Wanted me to fuck her. With my fingers. Uh she begged me to. And she was down to her knickers” Gaz confessed as he dropped his eyes to his combat boots, too unsure to look at his team. 

“Did you lad?” Price probed. 

“No, I couldn't do it. I really thought about it and I- I don't know. She definitely has a fever though.”

“Hm.” Was all that left Price's mouth. 

“We're gonna have to check up on her. Make sure her heart isn't working too hard and see how to keep her satiated. For her sake.” Simon stated matter of factly. 

“Does it say it has to be expelled through “sexual intercourse” or can she just, ya know, uh.. “Get there”, and work it out her system.” Soap questioned, looking toward Price and seeking the answers he normally has. 

“Johnny. It says coitus.” Simon replied. 

“No one’s gonna fuck her like this. It’s not right.” Gaz stated.

“What if we have to?” Soap doubted.

“Maybe we should see if an orgasm is the solution. If that doesn't work then last resort, someone will do what needs to be done.” Price said with a sense of finality. 

---

You felt the press of two fingers at your carotid artery and shivered at the warmth they offered. You fluttered your eyes open and nearly jumped out of your skin when they met dark brown ones behind a human skull mask. You’d seen Simon before and regularly worked with him but you'd never woken to him standing over you like the grim reaper.  

“Jesus, Simon.” 

“‘Just checking your heart rate.” He confirmed. Simon almost always has his gloves on. To feel his fingers at your neck had you craving more of his touch. You grabbed his hand that was at your neck and splayed it across your jugular. You looked up at him with full, pleading eyes and felt him squeeze a bit. A light moan left your lips as you begged him to squeeze harder. The groan that left his mouth would surely implant itself in the depths of your mind for years to come. The sound coming from him went straight to your core and you felt yourself clenching your thighs. 

“Simon, please.”

“Fuckin’ hell. Don’t look at me like that. Not while you've got your knickers round your ankles.”

“Please. Si. I need you. I’m so fucking horny. I can feel everything Simon. Please just help me feel good. I promise I’ll be good. You can use me however you want. However you need to. Please.”

“Don't say that y/n.” He turned his gaze away from your face. 

“I mean it. Please help me.”

“Just my fingers darling.” 

“Yes. Yes, thank you so much.” You nodded your head eagerly and bit down on your lip. If your fingers weren't working to get you there, maybe his would. You parted your legs for him and he hung his head and rolled his shoulders while he let out a deep “Fuck”. His grip on your neck tightened and you felt your head go light. “Oh fuck yes.” His other hand made its way between your plush legs and ran between your folds. Simon’s eyes were locked onto your pussy and he was in awe of how wet you were. He knew what the toxins effects on you were but to see them in person had him stiff as a board in his pants.  Fuck this was so wrong of him. He knew he wanted to help you but part of him was living out his sick and twisted fantasies. To have you, a stunning woman, dripping wet and begging for him to fuck you, he’d be insane to not feel at least a bit aroused. He dragged a finger around your clit and almost purred at the whine that left your lips. He continued to make slow and tedious circles around your clit. 

“Simon, please I need more. Can you - mmm fuck- can you fuck me?” How could he deny you when you’ve asked him so nicely. 

“Only with my fingers, darling.” He slipped in two fingers and groaned at how tight you were. Your back arched so deeply and he wondered to himself what it would be like to be behind you when you arched like that. Simon began to work his fingers inside of you. He started with slow but deep pumping motions and moved onto scissoring his fingers inside of you searching for that special spot that he knows will make you tick. Your breath hitched in your throat and you let out a long high pitched squeal. 

“Is that it, darling? Right there? Hm?” He beamed with a sense of condescension that made your pussy tighten on his fingers. 

“Oh fuck Simon. Please, please let me cum.” His fingers were hitting all of the right parts of you and you felt your orgasm nearing. 

“Of course you can come, darling. Fucking soak my fingers. I know you need it. Come on, darling.”

You slid your hand down to your clit and rubbed it in furious circles. His grip tightened on your neck and you felt fuzzy everywhere. “Cum all over my fingers. Make a mess, why don't you.” And at that final comment from Simon, you felt the band within you snap as you had one of the most intense orgasms of your life. Your toes curled and your back was nearly curved into a C shape. Your pussy clenched and unclenched as Simon continued his assault. You felt your ears ringing from the intensity of the orgasm and felt like you lost hearing for a little moment. As you panted and tried to recover from your climax, Simon removed his drenched fingers from you, lifted his mask to just below his nose, and brought his hand up to his mouth. He locked eyes with you and you watched him in amazement as he cleaned you from his fingers. Your eyes flutter at how intense the sight was. His strong jaw, scarred but pink lips, and traces of stubble left you wanting more. He moved the hand that was on your neck back to your pulse point to check your heart rate.

“It’s slowed a bit. Get some rest," and with that he left the room and you felt yourself slip from consciousness.

[clairewritesandrambles]

Drunk on You - Scott Miller

Summary: Scott is drunk and doesn't have the patience to wait until you two are home to have his way with you.

Pairing: Scott Miller x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Smut (18+ Only), spanking, semi-public/public sex, breeding kink, pregnancy talk, rough sex, Scott is a bit of a brat tamer, not beta'd, basically porn with no plot

A/N: Everyone say thank you to @hederasgarden for inspiring this with her ask. Shoutout to the Corenswet server for encouraging me in my times of need. Sorry if there are mistakes, I didn't get a beta reader for this one.

You should have known better than to let Javi talk you into going out. He'd begged you and Scott to come out with the team for once, promising to choose a spot that would be calmer for you. Instead, you had walked into a bar where the bass vibrated your teeth and the patrons were packed in so tightly you had to push people out of the way to breathe.

Shouting a thank you to the bartender, you fought your way back to Scott's perch at a high-top table. Sliding his beer to him, you admired your own skill at how little you had spilled during the journey. You saw his mouth move in what you presumed was a thank you, but the thumping in your ears prevented you from hearing any of it.

You really were going to kill Javi when you found him. He had abandoned you for the floor long ago, leaving Scott to deal with your moodiness on his own.

Seeming to notice you slipping into your own head, one of Scott's large hands slipped under your shirt to graze the small of your back. The soft warmth of his touch brought you back to him, pulling you into his body so he could lean into your ear.

"We can leave if you really want to." His words tickle your ear, still having to raise his voice for you to hear him. Melting into his deep voice, you rested your head on his shoulder before looking up at him.

"I told Javi I'd be his DD. I can't leave him." Scott groaned, rolling his glassy eyes. You knew he wanted to go home as badly as you did, but you refused to leave Javi and Scott refused to leave you.

"I wanna get you home and in bed so I can have my way with you," he whined, hand tightening on your back. "Gonna make sure both of us are stumbling."

You snorted at his joke, tiptoeing to kiss his lips. "You can have me later, lots of time for a round before we sleep."

Scott's lips quirked up into a smirk as he shook his head at you, eyes roving over your outfit. "I need more time for what I have planned for you." He said, tongue licking over his bottom lip as he leaned in to talk into your ear again. "I want to put a baby in you."

Your body flushed at his words, wetness gathering at your core. Scott nipped at your ear, moving your hand to palm the bulge in his jeans as he pinched your nipple through the fabric of your top. "You want that, sweetheart? Do you want me to make your stomach nice and big with my baby?"

"This is cruel punishment," you whined, "making me soak through my panties while I can't fuck you."

"Bars have restrooms for a reason." He smiled at your unimpressed face before leaning back down to mouth at your neck. "Unless you'd rather have me bend you over right here, in front of everyone, and show them how cock drunk I can make you."

"Scott," you warned, your core clenching in response to his words. His hand gripped your breast harder, the friction between the lace of your bra and your skin making your entire body move towards him in want.

His boyish grin told you that Scott would not stop, too far gone in his alcohol to filter his thoughts anymore. "Or I could make you cockwarm me," he said, hand reaching down to tease your core. "Have you sat in my lap with my cock buried in you until I lose it and make you bounce on it? Then I'd get to fill your pretty little cunt and keep you plugged to make sure you're bred."

Suddenly his hands left your body, leaving you cold and aching where he had been. "But if you'd rather just sit here waiting for Javi..." He trailed off, smirking as he saw his effect on you.

This man was going to be the death of you.

Your lips thinned as you weighed the consequences of your choices: either being fucked in a bar restroom, where anyone could find you, or waiting hours for Scott to satisfy the need dripping from you.

"Finish your beer. Then you can fuck me." A victorious grin took over his face as he raised the amber liquid to his lips and gulped it down as quickly as he could.

Jumping up from his stool he grabbed your hand, pushing ahead of you in the crowd as he bee-lined to the neon restrooms sign. You were relieved when he pulled you into the men's room and saw that it was empty, grinning as Scott pushed you backward into a stall. His hand landed on your throat as he kissed you, spinning to pin you to the door as he turned the lock.

"That's my good girl," he groaned, hands cupping your breasts before pulling your bra down to set them free. "Knew you're too fucking desperate to deny me."

You rolled your eyes at his words, his ego being one of the things that became even more apparent when he was drunk. "Shut up and breed me."

Scott pulled away from your kiss to grip your jaw, making you look at him. "Don't be a fucking brat," he warned, grip tightening as he held your gaze. "Now fucking turn around for me."

You didn't even have time to follow his directions before he grabbed your hips and forced your front against the cool metal door himself. His grip was rough as he made quick work of your pants, pooling them around your knees as he knelt to have his face level with your core.

"Already so fucking wet for me," he practically moaned, licking one wide stripe up you. You didn't have time to react before he spat on your pussy, quickly pushing two thick fingers into you.

"Fuck, Scott," you cried out, pushing back into his hand. He steeled his grip on your hip, locking you in place. Agonizingly, he pumped his fingers into you, barely dragging them out of you before pushing back in. "Please fuck me, I need it. Please."

Scott didn't respond as he continued his slow movements, seeming to take it as a challenge to tease you even further. The only indication he had even heard you was a nip to the top of your thigh, one that you knew meant for you to find patience.

"Scott, come on," you pleaded, fighting to push your hips back further into him. His grip on you tightened in a warning, making you groan in frustration. "Come and fucking breed me before I get someone else to do it."

Four thunderous smacks rung throughout the room, lighting your ass on fire. Scott stood up behind you, ripping his fingers from you before forcing them into your mouth. You choked briefly from the roughness, his other hand tightening around your throat as you began to suck your juices off of him.

"I should make you fucking choke for that," he spat, pressing you completely into the stall door. You could feel how hard he was against you, forming an image of his leaking cock in your mind. "Should fucking force you on your knees and make you sob around my cock as an apology. Then you'd be begging for me to fuck a baby into you just so you can breathe."

Your arousal was practically dripping down your thighs at his words, desperately pushing back against him for any sort of friction. Scott took his fingers out of your mouth briefly, allowing you to respond to him. "Please, Scott, I'm sorry," you whined. "Just please fuck me, I need you. I need you to fill me, please."

Scott's grip on your throat tightened, pushing his fingers further into your mouth to make you gag as tears sprung into your eyes. "Oh, you want mercy, sweetheart?" He questioned, a satisfied smirk appearing when you nodded around his hand as a tear ran down your cheek. "Lucky for you, I'm in a forgiving mood."

He removed his fingers from your mouth, pressing on the back of your neck to force you into a bent-over position before you heard the clinking of his belt unbuckling. "I am going to fuck your cunt until I've filled you. Then, when we get home, I am going to tie your knees to your chest. I am going to fuck and fill you so many times you're going to be begging for a break. Understood?" You quickly nodded, agreement slipping from your mouth as the image filled your mind. You were clenching around nothing in desperation, his words alone bringing you to the edge.

Satisfied, Scott finished pulling his cock out before slowly sinking into you without pretense. The cold metal of the door hardening your nipples, combined with his words and the delicious stretch of his cock, threw you over the edge before he had even finished pushing into you. A throaty groan rumbled in your ear as Scott leaned in, a sudden jolt of his hips burying the rest of him inside of you.

Scott wasted no time, setting a brutal pace that had your brain foggy from pleasure in seconds. Every thrust crowded you further into the door, your core slowly, agonizingly slowly, adjusting to his size. Nonsensical pleas dripped from your lips, interspersed with shouts of his name as you lost yourself in your pleasure.

"Fucking hell," he grunted as another orgasm rippled through you. "You sound so fucking pretty begging for me to fuck you. It's gonna make me overflow your pussy with my cum, then I'll keep fucking it deeper into you just to make sure it works." You clenched around him again, a strangled moan overtaking him as his hands shifted to grab the frame of the stall. The sound of the metal moving with the two of you rang throughout the room, highlighting how brutal he was with his movements.

"Fuck yes," he groaned, a quick slap being delivered to your ass. "I'm going to keep you bred all the fucking time, tie you up and fill you for days. God, you're going to look so beautiful when you're pregnant with my children. With your big round belly and tits overflowing."

The last of your sanity fractured at his words, a third orgasm overtaking your full body as you went over the edge. Scott swore behind you, his moans becoming animalistic as he squeezed a hand around your throat. His thrusts became impossibly harder, chasing his orgasm in full primal instincts. Even when you felt him twitch and fill you, he didn't stop his rhythm - intent on fulfilling his promise of fucking it deeper.

With one last shudder, he pulled out, a hand shoving between your shoulder blades. "Stay there," he barked, leaning down to be level with your dripping core once again. Scott groaned at the sight of his cum leaking out, taking two fingers to fuck it back into you and smirking at the overwhelmed noises that escaped you.

Finally satisfied with his work, Scott placed a chaste kiss on your hip before standing back up to tuck himself back into his jeans. He helped you redress, getting lost in the physical aftercare that you knew was, secretly, his favourite part of having sex with you.

You moved to unlock the stall before he pulled you back into him with an arm around your shoulder. With a hand under your chin, he turned your face to place a quick kiss on your lips. "I love you," he said, "but you do look like you just got the life fucked out of you."

You rolled your eyes at him, walking out of the stall on shaky legs to fix your hair in the mirror. "I don't know how you expect me to be normal in there after that."

"That was the goal," he chuckled as he leaned on the sink beside you.

Your phone buzzed at that moment, lighting up with a text from Javi.

Javi: Andy challenged me to more shots. Peter agreed to drive. Go do weird nerd shit with Scott.

The text was followed by an image of an unimpressed-looking Peter with Andy and Javi throwing their arms over him like this was the best night of their lives. Your shoulders sagged with relief at the thought of being able to go home, thighs clenching at the reminder of Scott's promises.

After sending a quick text to Peter to confirm the change, you turned your phone screen to Scott so he could read the message. His entire body lit up as he finished, instantly grabbing your hand and tugging you out of the bathroom in excitement. "Let's go home. You've got a long night ahead of you."

[inchidentally]

"short and easier to read" babe I am so sorry to you and everyone else for how my insane posts come out - it's why I link to so much stuff bc it is a struggleee for me to not write just run-on sentences ;__; but I do get what you mean and I promise I tried my best - it's def shorter than the og and in smaller bites if that helps ??

(I actually wrote this on someone else's laptop so it's got proper punctuation and capitalization and everything!)

For those who don’t know: Oscar is an acts of service guy Lando is a words of affirmation guy. Let’s remember that someone’s love language is how they choose to express themselves, not what they should demand of others!

Oscar is also very much not a PR guy, for anyone totally oblivious to the obvious (and that all his "greatest hits" in PR were done unintentionally or bc he's awkward or bc his mom is cooler than him). For example, Oscar brings up his girlfriend of 4-5 years a fair amount but it’s almost hilariously not gushy or romantic (having a “cuddle” is as far as it goes lasfgjlsagfl). But he’s said himself that for the most part he’d prefer not to have too much private life available to the public. *His downtime with Lando joins in with all his other social life in being extremely limited to the public. 

The “thanking the sponsors” thing is one of Oscar’s safe, approved speeches he pulled from Andrea so that Oscar doesn’t have to do spontaneous on-camera speaking. Sorry but not all of us are good at it and it’s wayyyy easier to just have some rehearsed pre-approved soundbites. He tends to have a few that he repeats for a while until he updates the list lsafjslafhlafh.

He also very openly struggles to do on-camera speaking and no one knows that better than Lando who’s had to help him a huge amount. 

It does seem to be mostly cameras that make him stressed bc he was fine thanking Lando for his help in Baku at the fan stage in Singapore and overall he can use more of his dry humor when he's speaking to people rather than just to a camera. 

Lando’s recent inclusion of Oscar in his media responses to this degree is a reaction to Hungary and Monza - normally, his post race responses focus on himself and his own performance (which is literally normal and the default for drivers!!). The recent emphasis on teamwork/Oscar is something he feels he needs to do with his own PR work right now. He’s a smart man who’s been doing this a long time, so his reasons are valid no matter what fans think. He’s not sitting there working out or analyzing Oscar’s PR, just his own. 

People are absolutely running away with themselves over Monza and ignoring that apart from that one moment, Oscar is widely popularly seen as the supportive teammate role. To the point where last year and even part of this year, Lando was criticized by a lot of fans for not acknowledging Oscar enough.

Going off of that, let’s show how easy it is to take PR and media to make one of them look bad by turning it around onto Lando (!! this is for an example, I do NOT endorse hating on Lando for any of it !!)

Lando openly disliked being referred to as the “older teammate” and kinda left Oscar to his own devices so much last season that Oscar wouldn’t know where he was going a lot of the time and even semi-joked “my teammate’s abandoned me” (again, reminder this was not a source of drama for anyone but fans). He got called a little duckling a lot bc he’d tail Lando closely so as not to lose him. In fact it started irking some people that Lando would spend so much time with Carlos or Daniel and not getting to know his new teammate and helping him out with his rookie season of F1 the way Carlos did for Lando.

In every team photo where Lando has had a podium and Oscar has had nothing (and sometimes due at least in part to team orders!) which is very often! the comments sections have always had plenty of ‘Oscar is such a great team player, always happy and showing up for Lando no matter what’. So the whole ‘Oscar doesn’t do enough for Lando’ narrative is extremely recent and at odds with the rest of reality.

Please read the very first part of my enormous full post bc Lando didn’t thank Oscar for his Miami win, he praised his driving.

Even though at Silverstone this year Lando got on the podium and Oscar didn’t, Oscar made the fan stage all about bringing Lando out of his disappointment and even said he did the shoey “to make us feel better” and then dedicated the top row of his IG that week to photos and videos of him and Lando. Special note that this is in no way Oscar’s home race and he was solely seeing it as emotional for Lando and McLaren - and he had zero reason to personally be very happy after that weekend.

I’ve seen Melbourne this year get mentioned in the team orders discussions on my fyps, so that’s a handy example in many ways: Despite Melbourne being Oscar’s literal hometown race - and Lando even filming some Quadrant stuff at Oscar’s childhood karting track where a corner is named after him* - this year Lando didn’t acknowledge Oscar really at all over the weekend until someone mentioned him at the end of the podium press conference. Lando acknowledged that Oscar following team orders made his (Lando’s) drive a bit easier in Melbourne this year but said that he was faster than Oscar and deserved third over him anyway. (Good contrast to Hungary and even Carlos stating that something an undercut due to pit strategy shouldn’t erase one teammate being faster/more dominant in a race in order to give the other teammate the win!) He did PR work with pretty much everyone except Oscar actually, even doing promo for his (Lando’s) dad’s electric scooters on the new dotmov acc. Kind of like him being on a similar PR campaign at Singapore this year because of a sneak preview of Quadrant rebranding and announcing the Landostand at Silverstone  - he went for the biggest PR hits and posted Daniel on his jpg account, did a golf day with Carlos and Max F and was more active on socials than he had been for months. All while only having Oscar in one photo out of the whole weekend’s carousel despite the McLaren double podium. You could even read into him cutting Oscar and Oscar’s trophy out of two of the shots if you wanted! (He did include Oscar in the big group photo after the podium celebrations.)

*I saw some ppl say he didn't include Oscar in the Melbourne karting filming bc McLaren doesn't cross over with Quadrant, which isn't true. Zak has shares in Quadrant and Bianca has been included in the Quadrant rebranding launch with Lando's Singapore helmet design.

See how easy that was to flip it around?? If you’re even slightly biased against a driver or never see flaws in another- or are dying for two teammates to hate each other - then confirmation bias will always find plenty of “evidence”! Because the reality is that after the Austin GP, Lando found his “older teammate” mode and began helping Oscar out with his rookie year. In Melbourne, Lando spent his first day filming for his .mov account including the Oscar jersey and merch he came across - and Oscar mentioned how he and Lando talked about Lando filming at his old track. (Again, not PR coordinated or filmed, just mentioned!) And that after the Singapore race this year, they beamed at each other every other second of that night, filmed a deliriously happy post race video and joked in the cool down room - I honestly doubt have even noticed yet what the other has posted to IG salfhsalfafa. All of the negativity fans are coming up with is their own personal spin and does not resemble how Lando and Oscar are behaving to or speaking about each other.

They base their relationship on their conversations and interactions solely away from the public and the cameras and don’t do any inflammatory commentary about each other. They bragged about the door in the team hub that separates their drivers rooms from everyone else and leaves them open only to each other. Their communications only matter to each other when in private.

Segueing on from that: media and social media are literally PR. Lando is extremely skilled at it now and Oscar is not at all naturally skilled and is still learning. Lando is quick to be able to adapt his media responses, Oscar is not and often sounds stilted and uncomfortable. But it still has nothing to do with how they think of each other and talk to each other personally.

And “Landoscar” has never had the typical PR bromance aspect that we all love in other teammates, and it never will. Lando and Oscar mention but don’t broadcast or package their downtime together and they don’t share their private dynamic with fans or the media apart from the glimpses we see in more relaxed content. It’s just their choice! And just like it doesn’t mean Lando and Oscar are less friends because they don’t PR their relationship, it doesn’t mean the friendships who do utilize PR are less friends! 

And tbh that’s a good note to leave on: that seeing two drivers with no PR to gain from openly liking and respecting each other should mean that we as fans place less importance on the PR responses they give to media and put on social media. So many people want them to hate each other (Netflix even begging them outright) and rivalries get far more headlines and fan engagement, that if these two didn’t like each other or even were blah about each other, they wouldn’t waste time trying to fake it (side note ppl actually thought this joke was deadly serious for a short while). F1 isn’t team sports, no one really cares if drivers or teams appear “friendly” unless they’re desperate for money/engagement to keep them afloat (even there, Alpine prove it clearly isn’t a priority to have friendly teammates when you’re lower down the grid!)

There is absolutely nothing to be gained for them in faking the smiles and laughter and twinning. Equally there’s nothing to be gained by us as fans in judging them and their relationship based on their PR responses and PR work. Lando beams and smiles the same at Oscar after all of Oscar’s awkward, stiff debrief speeches and I kind of want one of these crazy stans to say to him that Oscar is a bad team player and doesn’t show Lando enough appreciation just to watch what his adorable face does in response (don’t do that I’m joking).

[jtl07]

You’re such a hero👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 Thank you! Lilith being so annoyed is so accurate! Not a fic prompt or anything, but what is your headcanon for season 3? Does Ava come back? How? When? And Bea? What does she do when she leaves cat’s cradle?

ooh well for s3 i've had various ideas - many i've written (see these fics) - and the longer piece i'm working on now is technically a take on s3 as well.

i'll share this idea though - it's a recent one i kept banging my head against the wall over but eventually let go. i'mma write it out here but anyone who comes across this, feel free to take this idea and write it out more fully if you want!

(note: the plan was to have this be from Camila's pov and essentially wanted it to be a similar vibe to leave it all behind)

anyway, so we open with: Ava’s back and nothing is wrong. the reunion had been everything Camila had dreamed of - for Bea, for Ava, for everyone - and it's been a few days and nothing's wrong per se, but something is odd. Beatrice still looks at Ava like she's hung the stars in the sky, like a mystery - glorious, wondrous, and Ava still hangs on to Beatrice's every word, hangs on to her. and Camila gets it, not wanting to let go, not now when Ava's back and here and everything is blessedly calm.

in the world at large, that is. there is much to do in the OCS, rebuilding and healing, as much as they can in the time they have. Camila gives them as much space and support as she can between all of her responsibilities, dealing with the here and now and preparing for the future.

a future that is still as uncertain as it is worrisome. Ava doesn't remember much from her time on the other side but she can confirm that there is a war coming, and she and Beatrice have taken up a near permanent residence in the archives. Camila has found them many a late night, looking up stories of all sorts: of sacrifice, of mythical items, of gold and halos and light.

and here is where things fall apart for me - jt, the author - because this was meant to be a mystery but i couldn't for the life of me figure out the clues and shit so: fast forward to Camila getting weirder and weirder vibes - not from Ava - maybe a little bit but she's just come from who knows how long from another realm - but from Bea. until it culminates a week or so later to Camila arriving at their shared quarters to find it in complete disarray. as if ransacked; as if kidnapped.

Camila stills. belatedly thinks of running down the hall to sound an alarm; then remembers her training. questions herself first: why haven't you run yet? answers her own self: because something's off. and then a voice that reminds Cam of Beatrice: wait. be patient; let your mind catch up to what you're seeing.

she lets her eyes roam first, sees now the premeditation in the supposed mess - patterns in the chaos. it points her towards a notebook, extensive notes written in Beatrice's careful hand but Camila knows she doesn't have time to go through everything. finds a clue - finds the page - finds the truth.

she leaves immediately with a delayed message queued up to send to Mother Superion well after she's left - hopes that when Mother arrives on scene, it won't be a repeat of the ark (that she won't have to bury or worry about yet another child).

the location isn't that far and Cam sets herself up as Beatrice had instructed, in an alcove with a clear shot of a raised dias. there's an energy in the air that makes her wary, that edges her towards scared. she tamps down the anxiety, hopes she got the message right; calms her impatience and breathes. listens. waits.

it's not long before Ava and Beatrice come into view. Camila's somewhat hidden and she notices how Beatrice subtly keeps Ava's attention occupied away from Camila's location. Camila wills her hands to steady.

they've not come empty-handed. Ava and Beatrice set up an array of items, beginning a ritual that Camila faintly remembers flipping through in Beatrice's notebook. a sacrificial ritual, she realizes horrifyingly as Ava unsheathes a sword - the Cruciform sword, though it's not glowing - and Beatrice kneels down in front of her.

Beatrice's back is to Camila and over her bowed shoulders, Camila can see an unfamiliar intensity in Ava's gaze. Camila's watched them watch each other for a while now, but has never seen this look on Ava's face. a look that means harm, a look that spells out the end.

then Camila sees it: behind Beatrice's back, her hand has eased a knife out of its hiding place. Camila has her orders, feels her fingers ready to pull the trigger. waits. waits.

but Beatrice's hand falters - she makes the mistake of looking up at Ava and Camila can see her grip already slackening around the knife.

she's waited long enough.

the shot is true. Ava jerks back, blood between her eyes and Camila shoots again, straight through the heart. Ava staggers once; falls.

Beatrice doesn't catch her. she's still kneeling when Camila reaches her side, blood spattered and wide-eyed, murmuring softly in a monotone: "it's not her. it's not her."

it breaks Camila's heart all over again, wishes almost for the silence of the first time over this. "Bea," she tries, again, her hands shaking instead of Beatrice's because this time, even though Beatrice had technically let her go with the order, it had been Camila's finger on the trigger. but they could deal with blame and loss and penance later. first things first: get back to safety.

she manages to tug Beatrice up off her knees and onto unsteady feet, tries to hush the repeated round of murmuring. gets her off the dias.

hears a laugh from behind them.

before Camila can turn around, they're both blasted off their feet, sent tumbling, skidding over each other and over stone. Camila coughs wetly, raises her head in time to see their weapons thrown against a far wall.

she crawls over to an unmoving Beatrice and shields her as best she can. the being with Ava's face laughs again, the sword's glow sharpening the lines around Ava's eyes and mouth in a way that would never be true if it were really her. 'it's not her,' Camila wills herself to believe as the being steps closer, as warmth seeps through the hand she's pressed into her side.

it's taking all of Camila's energy to stay upright, barely able to make out what the being is saying - something about sacrifice, something about a new order and being chosen. she feels Beatrice stir behind her, feels more than hears the shared gasp of fear as she tracks the sword as it's raised above Ava's - not Ava - head. distantly understands that its target is her own. feels Beatrice trying to move her but Camila wills herself to be as still as stone.

she closes her eyes -

- for a blow that never comes.

something fast and strong and enraged crashes into the being they thought was Ava. something in Camila inexplicably relaxes and she falls back into Beatrice. even as Beatrice dresses her wound, they both watch the battle - or at least try to through the blinding light and explosions. then, there's a yell - singular, triumphant; one they both know - and in the dust of one last explosion, one of the two shadows fall.

Beatrice immediately starts forward but Camila holds fast, somehow finding strength, for both of them. "wait," Camila rasps, "Bea, we have to wait."

both of them keep their eyes trained on the slowly dissipating cloud of dust and energy - waiting, for who will arise. for who’s left alive. 

the shadows shift and settle atop the shoulders of a single form. Beatrice lets out a whimper and drags Camila forward but Camila keeps them from getting any closer, locks her arms, her legs, her heart. 'please,' she prays, pleads with Beatrice thrashing in her hold. 'Ava, please.' 

as if listening, the figure turns. eyes bright with simmering gold find them, settles on Beatrice.

softens. "hey, Bea."

and Camila knows: it's her. 

she lets Beatrice go and before Camila can even blink it seems Beatrice is in front of Ava, their arms wrapped around each other. the scene in front of her blurs with tears, relief and joy overflowing as the space is bathed in reunion gold.

Ava's back and everything is fine.

[candyheartedchy]

Just want to thank everyone who’s been enduring my Spo.ngeBob fixation these past few days.

[eirelis]

a little belated but happy 3rd season!!

[tennessoui]

hi bestie i love u and ur writing! absolutely no pressure at all, but are u still planning on updating ur mobfather verse?

hello and thank you! the short answer is yes!!

the long answer will be given to you in roughly…one year and nine months

[bumblingbabooshka]

Mirror!Neelix & Mirror!Kes Thoughts: Shared theme of destruction. Leaning further into Kes' 'insect' vibes where the Ocampa are actually a locust-like species that require a near constant source of food, though any food will do (it doesn't have to be a cooked dish). The caretaker was able to satisfy that but since Kes is alone now she finds that she's hungry a good deal of the time. Ocampa have been known in the past to cannibalize one another if there isn't another source of food. Also, I can imagine Mirror!Kes playing into the fact that other species view her age as being very young and pretending to be naive or in need of help in order to get others to let their guard down. Manipulative and often irritated by others. Despite playing into the fact that others might see her as a child, she deeply resents it. Lashes out in covert ways which she can deny. Wants to unlock her telepathic abilities to gain more power. Views herself as special and above others for being able to reach the surface. Mirror!Neelix I can imagine as having a direct hand in the destruction of his home and family. Basically, he became a soldier instead of running away. Has a poor reputation with other Talaxians because of this which he resents. Is still deeply sad about the deaths of his family but tries not to think about them at all. Also unlike regular Neelix who somewhat oversells his abilities, Mirror!Neelix undersells them. Much more lethargic and outwardly jaded/bitter than regular Neelix. Intentionally poisons Voyager's crew on a monthly basis but not Janeway or Chakotay and never lethally so she doesn't kick him off. Can make amazing dishes but often intentionally ruins them. (Good food is a special treat). Obviously dislikes his lot in life and enjoys bringing others down. Finds Tuvok intriguing because he seems immune to this. ('I want to make him happy!' is mirrored as 'I want to make him sad!') Since Voyager's Mirrored goal in my mind is 'conquer' instead of 'explore' - they often see Kes & Neelix as nuisances since they don't seem to care at all about growing their influence or being feared throughout the quadrant at first. However, Kes quickly learns to like conquering and power and grows to admire both Janeway and Tuvok. Neelix doesn't much care about conquering so much as he wants to mooch off Voyager's resources and make others miserable. Eventually becomes attached to Voyager's crew but that doesn't mean he'll poison their food any less, especially if he hears them complaining. Even after this change they're still viewed as nuisances because they don't care about any command structure except for 'Appease the Captain'.

[alltoowille]

brief writing update for those interested: i’ve now published edits up through lake house chapter 4–added about 3-4k to the fic as i’ve gone back and improved my old writing! i did my best not to eliminate what was already there in order to respect the world i made and the attachment people may have to it, but i was able to make things much more poetic and clarify the motifs and themes i found myself poking at with that piece. going to work on editing chapter 5 today, and once i get through editing chapter 7 i will likely post the new update. unfortunately i cannot give a timeline for that but i know the work i’m putting in will make it all the more worth it

[tkachukisms]

hey this isn’t meant to be pressuring or demanding an update so apologies if it comes across like that!! Genuinely curious after the whole events of this series and stuff are you still planning on finishing ur mattdrai fic?? V v not meant to be a pressure for an update, (it’s literally been such a short amount of time since u posted the first bit) it was just that I rlly enjoyed it, so if it was going to be unfinished I was just going to accept that now lol

it doesn't at ALL don't worry 🫶 and yeah haha no I do plan on finishing it don't worry! (: chapter two is at like 13k right now, two sections are just giving me major grief (funnily enough the final section being one of 'em!) — the series is SO funny overall because I started her in early march? so tail-end of reg season but very much before people starting clinching shit, and I don't think I'm the only one who never could've fucking imagined this being the scf outcome, lol. due to how I want to end it (and because that section is already 6k and I'm [not] rewriting its entire plot, unforch), we will be experiencing some hashtag canon-divergence, as my attempt to be Ambiguous with who won bit me in the fucking ass, apparently!

a screenie or two be upon ye <3 wip wednesday tuesday if you would.

[swiftfootedachilles]

what do i have to do to get people to read my stuff actually like im not about to get in everyones faces begging for attention but i dont understand how im expected to make FREE fandom content without much feedback on my work

[yay-depression]

the repressed neurodivergent experience of thinking “no one will ever love me with all of my neurodivergency the way i love them with their neurotypical-ness.”

[dirtbra1n]

I’m being a silly guy again don’t mind me. but my problem is that I’m entirely too willing to devote ungodly amounts of time to thinking about ichinose and his problems because I think. it’s been established. that I like weird guys. but it’s HARD to do that because a) he doesn’t show up nearly as much as masato does b) not as much to work with* and c) The dorm manager doesn’t have a fucking name. so. I don’t know Still might do it though

[majimassqueaktoy]

y5 (i just like hearing you talk about baba lmao)

omg you like hearing me talk about Baba 😳 okay but for real baba did win my heart, I love his terrible weird lil tiny waist ass, I miss him, I wish he was in ishin, I wish he and Saejima were back up that mountain and he was on his back REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED 🥺 also love shinada and mirei and takasugi and saejima and haruka and sad wet cat kiryu and aki the wacky ama

[cryiling]

17 PLEASESEEEEE

(ask game from here)

OFCOFCCC

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

ajdhajd so actually I have many wips 😭 I guess the most recent would be the one i am TRYING to write for revalink week but sadly it has literally no worldbuilding so I'm gonna use a more substantial wip..

let's talk abt my modern revalink hip hop au 😊

I've talked about this au quite extensively here and here, but recently I've been thinking more abt it 🫣 I've really considered making a playlist of all the songs I can imagine either revali or link doing a combo to, but I never got around to it SKFJSKF so I'll just talk abt it here

first of all, mr morale by kendrick lamar is definitely a revali song like?? especially that first part with the spoken intro, "it was one of the worst performances I've seen in my life, I couldn't sleep last night" AJDBAJFJ it sounds so mean but then the rest of the song is sort of conveying those emotions and I just feel like revali could really relate to it yk? also the beat goes hard ✋

next is silent hill by kendrick lamar and I think link would really slay this, despite what you might think I am not a kendrick lamar listener AJDBSJFN ok but I'm envisioning a very specific combo to this song that sadly I can't show you guys but it's very isolated and groovy and to the audience it looks laid back but it really takes so much precision and control to hit every beat and I'm just in love with it !!

ok this one is for revali, king's rant by masego, and I just think that honestly revali is a king that has many things to rant about and this song fits him perfectly, plus it gives him that opportunity to be a little more fluid with his movements while still retaining his more aggressive control 🙏

I FINALLY HAVE A VIDEO this one is for link 😊 u guys the attitude?? the control and precision but also in a way that keeps the flow?? the facial expressions?? this is literally how I imagine link would dance like slay 🤞

hm.. I seem to have deviated from the original prompt oops. OK let's get back on track

I just feel like revali is someone who is very passionate about the history of hip hop, like he thinks that people who start doing hip hop just because it's trendy or whatever aren't "real dancers" and he thinks they should be educated in hip hop's origin and stuff like that before they can call themselves a dancer. he's fr like my current dance teacher, ok last year he literally sat my class down and made us watch a documentary on hip hop history and gave us homework questions 😭 so yeah that seems like something revali would do

I've very briefly mentioned this before, but actually hip hop was not revali's first love! it was ballet ;w; AJDBAJBDSKJDKSKDKSK it seems so fucking funny but he just really liked the feeling of being free soaring through the air with his little leaps and twirls (idk can you tell I'm not a ballet person LMAO) and so he did take ballet classes as a kid for a while. but sadly internalized and external toxic masculinity pushed him away from that :( he went into hip hop instead because it's seen as a much more masculine discipline of dance, and luckily he ended up really enjoying it too!! over time he's changed his mindset to not feel like he has to do hip hop to be a "real man" but he just can't see himself doing ballet anymore :/

a lot of the time he places a very strong emphasis in breakdancing in his style, because that's what he forced himself to learn when he was pressured into hip hop. and he's very good at breaking, so he does it most of the time when freestyling or choreographing. however, he truly shines when he gets to be a little more graceful softer with his movements, because he's always been in tune with his body and the way he moves, and he's very skilled at being able to dance in a more fluid way, he just never feels like he can comfortably do it in front of ppl :(

link on the other hand is not afraid to get more sensual/graceful in his moves, however his strengths truly lie in isolation. this bitch has so much precision control over his body like he is out here tutting and locking like ?? but I've also mentioned how he does a little bit of contemporary on the side, which I just think is so *mwah* 😊 I've said it before and I'll say it again, but any given sunday is peak vibes for this au bc like ????? not only is it revalink it's just if link's dance style was put into a song idk how to explain it

ok I will stop talking here bc I feel like nothing I'm saying is making sense anymore 😭 I'm running out of more ideas for this au ngl maybe it's time I start actually writing it lmao