#dr. riley

[peachesofteal]

Ugh

[vvanisshedd]

stop making fanfics about characters raping and sexually assaulting y/n, you are fucking disgusting people who romanticize a serious crime that happens every day to children and women

"but that's just reading dark romance" that's not a dark romance, that's just the stuff of a horrible fetish, IF YOU HAVE A RAPE FETISH, GO SEEK FOR FUCKING PSYCHIATRIST HELP!!!!!!!!!!

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

two of the transfems youre friends with have been talking to you about the clinic they got their bottom surgery done at. apparently its dirt cheap, and the surgeon - despite some oddities and, your friends admit, poor hygiene - is incredibly talented. theyre more than happy to give you her phone number when you ask, and while it sounds simultaneously incredibly sketchy and way too good to be true, at this point youre just so broke, desperate, and tired of gatekeepers that you're willing to give it a shot.

you call on a thursday afternoon, and the call is picked up on the fourth ring, when youre just gearing up to hear an answering machine. the voice on the other end sounds like a middle-aged woman with a smoking habit trying to sound like a cheery, bubbly young girl, and mostly succeeding. hiiiii! what can i do for you? she asks. you say er im looking for a surgical clinic is this the right number? she says mhm! thats me. you say okay, i just have a few questions. she says shoot. you say do you take patients who arent referred to you? she says nobody refers patients to me so yes. then she giggles. youve never heard somebody pull off a giggle in real life. you ask okay, so ive been looking for a place to get my metoidoplasty done, can you do that here? she says i dont know what that is give me like five seconds. then the line goes silent. you can hear her typing on a mechanical keyboard and humming to herself as she reads. youre now convinced that this is not in any way a legitimate medical institution.

youre about to hang up when she comes back on the line. OH you need a dick she says. sure i can do that! does tuesday afternoon work for you? i have that morning free too but i HATE getting up in the mornings so id rather not schedule it if i have to. you say tuesday afternoon is fine, how long should i expect the visit to be? she says i dont know like seven hours? you say seven hours? she says yeah give or take a few, every person is different so i dont know what itll be like until ive got your cunt opened up. honestly probably best to take the whole day off just in case it turns out to be a tough operation. you dont respond to that immediately. she says oh shoot should i not use the word cunt, is that too gendered? sorry. you say no its fine. you say i thought i was just going in for a consult? she says i mean yeah if youd rather. i dont mind doing same-day but some people like having more time to think about their options. do you have somewhere to be tuesday night or something? you say no its just... no tuesday afternoon should be fine. she says okay great!

she gives you her address. she says knock three times so i know its you and not my parole officer. parole officer you ask? she says im being good i promise but i still hate talking to him hes boring. you say if you dont mind me asking what were you imprisoned for? she says the ones i plead guilty to at the trial were a hundred and ninety-two counts of first-degree murder with a parahuman ability, two hundred and fifty-six counts of physical and emotional torture with a parahuman ability, five hundred and six counts of intentional infliction of emotional distress with a parahuman ability, four hundred ninety-eight counts of aggravated assault and battery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty five counts of domestic terrorism with a parahuman ability and two hundred and twelve counts without, three counts of arson, two hundred forty two counts of burglary with a parahuman ability, three hundred eight four counts of robbery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty seven counts of abduction with a parahuman ability, a hundred eighty six counts of human trafficking with a parahuman ability, three hundred ninety counts of destruction of public property with a parahuman ability, eighty counts of possession of a controlled substance, more than three thousand conspiracy and complicity charges in various felonies, eighteen violations of the Geneva Conventions, and the unauthorized practice of medicine. i plead not guilty to the larceny, sexual assault, contempt of court, corporate espionage, and identity theft charges and the prosecutor didnt really try to fight it since i had already earned seventy life sentences from the other stuff so im technically innocent of those.

you dont say anything to that.

after three seconds of silence she says sooooooooo i'll see you tuesday? you say tuesday, yeah. what was your name again? Riley, she says. Riley Grace Davis. you say thanks again and then hang up.

you debate constantly during the intervening days whether you should go on tuesday. youre grateful your friend group is so slutty; it means youve already seen with your own eyes that this surgery is real and not just a lure to murder you. still, you have some reservations, which you think is perfectly understandable.

you call one of your friends whos been there already. she picks up and you say if this is a joke its only sort of funny. she says if whats a joke? you say the clinic. you say you DID give me the actual number to the place where you actually had your bottom surgery done right? she says yeah, dont worry the surgeons so sweet. you say she admitted to doing two hundred murders when she was on the phone. she says i dont know anything about that but i trust her. you say if i end up dead, kidnapped, or mutilated, its your fault. she says dont worry about it.

tuesday comes. you never agreed to an exact time so you show up as early as you can and still have it be "afternoon" in your mind - 12:30. you climb the rusted fire escape to the third floor door and knock three times. the door is answered by a woman six feet tall in casual but very nice clothes with frizzy brown hair and an expression you cant read. you say er, riley? she says nope. another girl pushes past her, exasperated. she's maybe five foot two and her wavy blonde hair is worn down, with a red bow in it. she's wearing torn jeans - naturally torn, not the sort that you buy with holes in them that youve always hated but the kind that were once normal jeans and now have worn through much of the fabric on the knees. her tshirt is faded and has stains that you cant quite place on it, but youre pretty sure it was once Eidolon merchandise.

she says damnit amy let me answer the door next time. the taller woman, amy apparently, shrugs and steps aside to let you in riley claps her hands together once youre inside and the door is shut. introductions! she shouts. amy, this is, er... I never actually got your name? you tell them your name. she says right! hes one of my clients. and this is Amy, my sister. dont worry about her, shes just a little awkward. amy says can you PLEASE not introduce me as your sister. riley says make me. then she grabs amys shirt and pulls her down, standing on her tiptoes at the same time. they kiss in a very un-sisterly way. you clear your throat politely.

riley breaks away and says right, yeah, sorry! i get distracted easy. youre here to get a dick right. you splutter a bit, both at the bluntness of the question and the fact that amy is still standing right there. riley follows your gaze. she says oh dont worry about her! sorry, i wouldve run her off earlier, i thought you wouldnt come by for another few hours. you say sorry. she says dont worry, its her fault. amy says you didnt tell me you had a client. riley says you didnt ASK. you clear your throat politely again. you say er yes, i did come in for metoidoplasty. she bites her lip and furrows her brow. she says metoido... oh right. well i dont really do that here but i can give you a dick. you say uh im not really interested in phalloplasty. she says whats phalloplasty? amy says its the construction of a penis, usually via tissue flap taken from another part of the body, often followed by the insertion of prosthetics to allow the constructed penis to achieve erection. riley says oh, huh. yeah i dont do that either. i can give you a dick though. she takes a second then puts on an exaggerated scowl. who would want that she asks? amy says lots of people prefer it to metoido for aesthetic reasons or because they dont think theyll be large enough for penetrative sex with metoido. riley says but it wouldnt feel like a dick! man, some surgeons are talentless hacks.

you clear your throat again. you say so if youre- riley says youre clearing your throat a lot, are you okay? you say im fine, its just- she says oh duh were being so rude! why are we all standing around here. come sit down in the living room, do you want anything to drink? she leads you into the living room. it has the unmistakable air of a room thats been cleaned recently, with vacuuming marks present in the carpet and the unmistakable scent of air freshener. the sofa that you're gestured to sit on is, by contrast, unbelievably filthy. stains of every sort are visible on it - some of them are obvious, like the patches of blood and vomit or the ring of a coffee mug. others take you a second to place, like the crusty streak along one cushion that you realize all at once is semen, or the sticky yellow parts that you hope to god are honey. some of them, like the muddy green handprint along one arm of the sofa or the deep black smudge along a seat, are completely foreign to you. you can smell it from several feet away.

amy notices your hesitancy. she says i keep telling her to throw that thing out. riley says and i keep telling HER that its a relic from earth bet! its an antique and itll be worth millions soon. it just needs a good deep cleaning. amy says what that sofa needs is a bullet, not a deep clean. you sit down. drink? riley asks. you say er what do you have? she says water, diet coke, vodka, coffee. no more beer though, SOMEBODY drank the last one. amy says you never said they were off limits! riley says they arent, im just teasing. you say waters fine. riley says aaaaaaaaaamyyyyyyy, could you pleeeeeeaaaaaaaase go get our guest a glass of water and me a diet coke? oh and can you grab the pill bottle on the second shelf of the spice cabinet. amy says sure, i'll be right back.

riley sits down next to you. she says sooooooo what do you want for your dick? you say sorry, if youre not doing phallo or metoido then what exactly are you offering? she says no offense but it would take like literally eight years to give you enough background info for you to understand my explanation, and i dont have that kind of time. im not getting any younger. except for when i am. she laughs louder than you thought a human could. you have no idea how to describe the sound of her laughter. she says just tell me about your dream dick and ill give it to you. trust me, im a doctor.

except that youre not, amy says, returning with glasses and pills in hand. she sets the water down in front of you and you immediately take large gulps, feeling very much lost right now. riley says am TOO, accepting the pill bottle and diet coke from amy. she frowns. why is it can diet coke, she asks? she says glass bottle is so much better. she says why did i even BUY can. amy says they are literally the same liquid, what do you mean its better. riley says theyre not the same, stop deluding yourself. amy says which of us is the REAL doctor? riley says both of us! the PRT finally issued me an equivalency. youre talking to doctor riley davis, MED. amy says oh really? congrats she says. riley beams. then she unscrews the lid of the unlabeled, dark brown glass bottle, grabs three pills, and pops them into her mouth.

what is that you ask. ectasy she says. you want some? you say no thanks. she says you sure? you say i probably shouldnt take drugs before an operation, what if it interacts with the anesthetic? riley says dont worry, i made my own anesthetic that has zero drug-drug interactions. amy says except with sudafed. riley says ok YEAH except with sudafed, how was i supposed to know? she glances at you. you dont take sudafed do you she asks. you say no. she says good. it was such a bitch cleaning the pus off the ceiling she says. you say huh? she says dont worry about it, you dont take sudafed. she says are you sure you dont want any ecstasy? i promise its pure. you say i dont want to get addicted. she says i can surgically remove the addiction pathway from your brain if that would help. amy says riley, no means no. riley says fine. do you want any ecstasy babe? she says no thanks. riley frowns. she says you guys are a bunch of squares. she pops a fourth one and starts chugging diet coke.

she slams the can down after drinking what must be half of it, wipes her mouth with her arm and grins. sorry, we keep getting distracted! she says. she says im getting into the start of a manic episode and that always makes me roll right over people in conversation. what do you want for your dick? you say um. i hadnt really thought about it. its not normally a choice beyond the type of surgery, you sort of just end up with whatever the doctors are able to make work? thats lame she says. why are normal doctors all so lame she says. ok, rude amy says. OBVIOUSLY im not talking about you babe riley says. and stop distracting me from my client! amy holds up her hands in mock surrender, an easy smile on her face.

you didnt bring a toy with you did you, riley asks. you say huh. she says sometimes people bring a toy that they want me to model it after and that makes everything a lot easier. you say no you didn't. you say i hadn't really thought about my preferences, can we go dealer's choice on this? amy pipes up. she says you REALLY dont want riley to go dealers choice. riley says shut up and get me another diet coke, i just finished this one. amy says yes princess. you honestly cant read whether it was meant to be mocking or endearing. riley turns back to you. ok, she says, lets start with basics. primate? canid? equine? suine? dolphin? i could give you a hyena pseudopenis but i dont know if that would be offensive. you say human is fine. she says please dont tell me you're gonna just be boring this whole time. you say define boring. she sighs deeply and starts massaging her temples. amy, having stepped into the room in time to hear the last bit of conversation, tousles rileys hair. she says sorry babe, customer's always right.

you work out the appearance of your soon-to-exist cock this way. riley asks questions about length, girth, hair, amount of semen generated, percentage growth when erect, and you try to give what you think are average answers every time. amy watches, bemused, the whole time. halfway through she leaves to get the bottle of vodka. she drinks five shots in fifteen minutes. you say i didnt think the human body had that much capacity for alcohol resistance. she says it doesnt. riley swats playfully at her arm.

eventually, riley grabs a set of crayons and a cocktail napkin. she says ok, i think we got it, scribbling furiously. she shows you a crayon drawing of a dick. this look good she asks? you squint at it. there are no measurements given and the medium does not allow you to make out any fine detail. you say yeah thats fine. amy tries and fails to hide a smile. riley chucks the napkin aside and rubs her hands together. boring parts done! she says. time to get messy she says. amy pours a sixth shot of vodka. she says dont forget the anesthetic first. riley rolls her eyes. she says OBVIOUSLY i didnt forget the anesthetic. she says ill be right back. as soon as she leaves the room, amy knocks back her shot. she turns to you. she says you mind if i stay and watch? she says i dont want to make you uncomfortable, but i like watching her work. shes cute when shes working. you say at this point youre not sure you would mind anything at all. you say at this point you dont think you would be fazed if she came back with a fully-formed dick wriggling around in her hand like a fish and sewed it onto me. she says dont tempt fate.

riley comes back with a black bag the size of her head, which she sets on the coffee table with a thunk. she points at you and says okay, clothes off. or pants off i guess. you can leave the shirt on. or take it off. i dont care. you take it off. she tells you to lie down and starts pulling things out of the bag. amy stands up from the sofa to give you the space to stretch out and sits on the coffee table instead, one leg pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on her knee.

riley pulls out a syringe from the bag, filled with pitch-black fluid. she says okay this will hurt for a second but only for a second. you say huh? she flips you over onto your belly and jabs the needle against your lower back, into your spinal column. it hurts like a bitch for all of two seconds and then you stop feeling anything at all in your lower body. you also cant move your legs, you realize. what just happened you ask, as she flips you onto your back again. she says i just killed all the cells in the nerves in your lower spine. she says its the easiest way to make sure none of the pain signals slip through, and she'll just replace them with living ones when she's done. you don't know how to respond to that.

she pulls more things out of the bag. a cartoonish array of different cutting implements come out. most of them are various sizes of medical scalpel, ring cutter, or saw, but you also see a pair of chunky pink safety scissors, a pizza cutter, a serrated bread knife, an x-acto, a drill with a comically long bit, a pair of wire cutters, gardening shears, and an awl. she says okay im gonna start operating so look away if you dont wanna see how your crotch looks while its being rearranged. especially if you think you might puke, i hate having to stop to clean up puke in the middle of surgery. you look away. you notice amy is watching transfixed.

for a couple of hours things go on like that. amy and riley make light conversation, with riley filling any silence by humming a wordless tune you dont know. the sounds and smells youre getting are enough to make you slightly sick; you continue not looking.

in the middle of hour two, riley stops. oh goddamnit, she says. what amy asks? riley says she forgot that shed need extra meat. amy says you started a surgery to give somebody a whole new organ and forgot youd need more tissue to do it? riley says shut up, im dumb. amy says no youre not babe. riley says ughhhhh now what. amy says just get his stem cells to grow the tissue you need. riley says nooooooo thatll take forever, and i have places to BE tomorrow, and if i stop putting pressure on him here hes going to bleed out through his cunt. you say wait, what? amy says well i dont know what you want me to do about this situation, i gave you my solution. riley says baaaaaaaaaaabe. amy says whaaaaaaaaaaaat. riley says i think we have some bacon in the fridge, will you pretty please with sprinkles on top go get it? amy says and what do i get in return? riley says a kiss. amy says id get that anyway. riley says my undying love and affection. amy says i have that already. riley says not making me angry at you so you can sleep under my roof without having to worry that ill turn your sweat glands into acid glands in the middle of the night. amy says that, plus i get to top tonight. riley says fiiiiiiiiine, just go get the bacon. amy gets up.

you say look uh i know you said not to question what youre doing but i kind of dont want a dick made of bacon, not to sound ungrateful. also did you say something about me bleeding out? riley says dont worry, if you bleed out ill put the blood back in, im a professional. you say thats not as reassuring as she thinks it is. riley says whos the doctor, mister? you say technically both of us. i have a phd in social sciences you say. she says wow, theyre just giving out doctorates for anything these days, huh? you say hey, rude. she says only teasing. you say anyway, uh, you didnt address the bacon dick thing? she says oh dont worry about it, my amys amazing, youll see.

amy comes back in with the package of bacon. do you need this in any particular shape she asks. riley says nah just give me a good amount of it. and make sure its spongy, so when he gets hard the blood can- amy cuts her off. she says dont worry, ive given you enough penises at this point that i think i know what penile tissue is like at this point. you say given her enough penises? what the hell does that mean? riley says hey, dont kinkshame! she sounds legitimately offended. you say sorry. amy pulls the bacon out of the package, holding it aloft in her left hand. you watch as the familiar look of a half-pound of bacon shifts and warps into a strange lump of fatty, spongy tissue of a waxy color. she hands it to riley. riley says thanks sis youre the best, love you! amy says no problem. riley says id kiss you if i wasnt elbow deep in this guys cunt right now. amy says kiss me after the surgerys done.

another two hours go by. the sounds of flesh being chopped, sawed, and stitched underscore riley and amys meaningless conversation about whether they HAVE to attend their acquaintance lisa's birthday party. riley says lisa probably wouldn't throw a birthday party if there wasn't some sort of scheme going on. amy agrees but says that doesnt indicate whether they should get involved with the scheme or not. you wonder dimly if you will ever feel your lower body again. you wonder if this is purgatory, an endless afternoon of lesbians bickering affectionately while one of them does surgery on you. you turn your head enough to look at the clock. its 5:26pm. where the fuck did the time go?

another hour passes. riley stands up. she is soaked up to her elbow in various bodily fluids - mostly blood, but youre not looking too closely. she says finally! she says just need to regrow your nerve cells now. you say is that going to take long? she says like twenty minutes maybe as she flips you over. you say ok. she jams a different needle into the same spot, injecting a strange yellow paste into your spine. she then flips you onto your back again. you feel brave enough to finally look at your crotch.

there is a completely normal human penis of average size there. you reach a hand down and touch it. you dont have any sensation in it yet since your nerves are all still dead, but it feels warm and soft under your hands. you smile, feeling tears come to your eyes. its over.

rileys talking. she says i followed your specifications except i had to cheat a bit on the nerves, you actually didnt have very many in your clit for whatever reason so your glans has maybe eight thousand fewer nerves than you wanted, sorry about that. she says i gave you balls in your scrotum for shape but since you said you didnt want kids they dont produce sperm. let me know if you want that changed she says. she says it should be fully functional in every respect, but if you notice any erectile dysfunction, incontinence, discoloration in urine or semen, priapism, or any other issue come back and we'll sort it out. if you notice it bleeding in ANY capacity, call me immediately. if im not answering call Amy, ill give you her number. if SHES not answering either then you can start seeing normal doctors, not that those idiots will know how to help you probably. if you want any changes to it call me and ill pencil you in to get it adjusted. get all that she asks. you nod. she says cool. she says itll be like $200, no rush if youre not able to pay right now. you say it might be a bit since youre still trying to pay interest on your student loan debt. wait, she says, they have student loans again? you nod. she says the world ended like thirty years ago, when did they set up student loans again? fuck, how much do you owe? you say a little under eighty thousand. she says jesus fuck, nevermind, its free. goddamn. you say thank you so much. she says yeah of course. do you want us to dress you or do you want to wait until you can move and do it yourself?

[righthandedleftturn]

New Star Trek: Strange New Worlds season 2 cast photos have been released.

[ghouljams]

Bestie how’s Die?

I’m excited to see her purring and slathering herself all over ghost after he finally feeds her. A very murderous kitten rolling in a bed of catnip. Good for her.

Ghost has never been one for cuddling past the appropriate required amount, but the way you lay on him, languid and utterly pleased, is almost changing his mind. Almost.

His fingers stroke down your spine, absent minded as you rub your cheek against his mask. It is almost cat-like, he's really more of a dog person but he can see the appeal. Especially the purring, the soft little motor rumbling against his chest feels like it's drawing the stress from his body.

It's strange how much more... keyed in to you Ghost feels. Your usual weight on his chest feeling like almost nothing. Your claws don't scratch, your teeth feel dull where they nibble at his collarbone, you're perfectly docile for him. Hardly demonic at all. Shit, maybe he should read the manual.

He almost feels bad for starving you. No wonder you were such a nuisance if this is what you're like after a meal. He trails his fingers back up your spine, up to card them through your hair and pull your head back. You make a soft noise but don't put up a fuss as he makes sure you're meeting his eyes.

"Are you goin' to be this docile in the field now?" He asks. The way your pupils are swallowing your irises does not inspire confidence. You blink slowly at him, he can almost see the wheels turning in your brain.

"Of course not," You push yourself up onto your elbows, Ghost's grip still tight in your hair making sure you don't go any further, "You've got me all charged up, now the real havoc can start."

[undeadgayboynes]

i cant

[skimblyspones]

these r fun :)

[Description: A Tiered meme, titled “if I was a worm, would you still love me?” Below is a table with two columns; the first column listing different answers to the question, and the second holding characters from the classic era of Star Trek who fit the response. They are as follows:

“Absolutely fucking not,” with pictures of Lieutenant Kevin Riley, Yeoman Janice Rand, and Mirror!Marlena Moreau

“You are not a worm shut up,” with pictures of Dr McCoy, Spock, Sarek, and T’Pring

“I would eat you like the fish,” with Scotty.

“depends what type of worm??” with pictures of Uhura and Nurse Chapel

“yes :) <3″ with pictures of Captain Kirk and Amanda Grayson

“I would build you a home in a jar. with a little house. talk to you every day,” with pictures of Sulu, Sybok, and The Romulan Commander

“what if we were both worms... and we kissed...” with a picture of Pavel Chekov

/End Description]

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

This will happen in my fic. I'm bending MW3 because MW3 didn't happen lmao

So Soap will get hurt but survives, although he's a bit banged up and will be unconscious for a while

Of course the whole 141 is by his bedside, taking turns. Usually Ghost and/or Riot take the nights

Heather goes whenever she can, as she has patients to tend to at base and Soap will be at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham, which is 1h30 from Credenhill, where the 2nd SAS Regiment is stationed

Gabi stays as much as she can, but Laswell has to renew her permit several times, and more than once Riot had to drag her to go have a shower or eat

Speaking of which, she's one to talk. She had to be literally carried away by Ghost to force her to eat. Once Soap's mother came down from Scotland, her and Mini took turn in nagging Riot. And Ghost.

Mini (@sofasoap) is quite busy at base, as medical personnel, so she tries to stay with her brother as much as possible, but sometimes she can't. Once Mam MacTavish arrives, Petra manages to give her some free days

Before setting off to her own mission, Petra (@siilvan) visits Soap as much as she can too. Some days, the floor nurses complain that the room is a circus, with so many people in there, keeping each other company.

It's a great sign of how loved he is

If anyone is wondering where Zhar (@nrdmssgs) or Nikolai are, go read Darker Matters as in my own canon this is happening between chapter 3-4

[softestqueeen]

✧*̥˚ fic recs *̥˚✧

here are some of my favourite fics! here are all of the fics i regularly re-read and go back to!

i will be updating this list as i go!

if you see your works here and want them removed, please reach out to me!

disclaimer: they are ALL x reader *heavy sigh*

last update: 30/03/24

✧*̥˚ marvel/mcu *̥˚✧

loki laufeyson

burning words by @lokiprompts (angst/fluff)

the ceremony by @smolvenger (smut)

i want you by @lokigodofmyheart (angsty fluff)

statues by @sassypossumm (fluff)

enchanted by @fqreverwinter (fluff)

bucky barnes

breeding kink blurb by @buckyalpine (smut)

pick me by @buckyalpine (angst & hurt/comfort; fluff)

drabble by @buckyalpine (smut)

wanda maximoff

good morning ࿏ wm by @themidnightcrimson (smut)

natasha romanoff

one for the road by @elaci (fluff/smutty)

stephen strange

my doctor by @withalittlehoney (fluff)

good girl by @futureplayboibunnie (smut)

his medicine by @ironstrange1991 (fluff/smut)

bucky barnes & steve rogers

accidents happen by @myfictionaldreams (fluff, smut, hurt/comfort)

adventures of amy series by @girlygirl14534

miguel o'hara

all brawn by @luvrxbunny (smut)

hot and bothered by @spiderlyla (fluffy smut)

bruce banner

cuddles are the cure by @late-to-the-party-81 (fluff/comfort)

steve rogers

tomorrow by @writtenfangirl (fluff)

✧*̥˚ bbc sherlock *̥˚✧

sherlock holmes

sidewalks of london by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

the london eye by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

hold me by @fallingforunrealisticromance (fluff)

brother dearest by @starks-hero (fluff)

a single touch by @bakerstreethound (smut)

safe in your arms by @classickook (fluff)

too good to be true by @teigo-the-explorer (fluff)

let the light in by @starssaroundmyscarssblog (fluff)

dear jealousy by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

a case of mistletoe and presents by @bakerstreethound (smutty)

✧*̥˚ call of duty *̥˚✧

könig

sugar daddy!könig by @yawnderu (smut)

simon "ghost" riley

soft-tummy simon riley by @lovelyghst (fluff)

pornstar!Ghost by @shotmrmiller (smut)

drabble by @xiamentshoneypot (fluff)

✧*̥˚ actors/actresses*̥˚✧

tom hiddleston

in too deep by @thefaefiction (smut)

✧*̥˚ authors*̥˚✧

here are some of the authors i love to read and i always go back to!

@ironstrange1991 (stephen strange) her masterlist

@buckyalpine (bucky barnes) her masterlist

@luvrxbunny (bucky barnes, miguel o'hara, moon knight, joel miller) her masterlist

@fettuccin-e (oscar isaac & pedro pascal characters) her masterlist

@bakerstreethound (sherlock holmes) their masterlist

@withalittlehoney (stephen strange) her masterlist

@melodygatesauthor (moon knight & miguel o'hara) her masterlist

[taylorshope]

[peachesofteal]

Peach, mother, wondrous woman

Are there anymore shrink Simon thoughts… 🥺👉👈

He’s in my brain and he won’t leave

[emmi-kat]

National Treasure: Book of Secrets (2007)  -  National Treasure: Edge of History (2022)

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

your transfem friend recommended a clinic to get your bottom surgery done at. she says its cheap, not gatekeepery, and the results are good, even if the doctors a little skeevy. youre at the address she gave you and are wondering how exactly your murder will go down. the door is on a third floor landing accessible only from a fire escape out of a back alley in the worst part of town youve ever seen. you knock three times and the door is answered by a ratty-looking woman with a severe slouch smoking something that doesnt smell like nicotine and doesnt smell like marijuana. her wavy blonde hair is unkempt. shes wearing an oversized grey hoodie that hasnt been washed in some time. you can identify blood on the left sleeve and vomit across much of her side, as well as other, more mysterious stains. you cant tell if shes wearing anything underneath the hoodie. the inside of the apartment - because it is, very clearly, her apartment - has a smell that you cant place but, if pressed, would probably call sweat, though you know that description is lacking something.

dr davis, you ask. she smiles wide, and her teeth are shockingly good for the state the rest of her is in. just call me riley, she says. never did get a degree.

she ushers you inside and sits you down on a sofa almost as stained as her hoodie. can i get you a drink she asks. a drink, you repeat, dazed. she says yeah. she says she has diet coke, beer, vodka, and coffee. says she used to keep tea around for a friend of a friend but she hasnt come by in a few years and the leaves are probably losing flavor by now. you say just waters fine. she shrugs and says your funeral. she comes back from the kitchen and sweeps some stuff off the coffee table. you see a stray scalpel, a roll of gauze bandages, a soda cup from taco bell, and various crumpled papers amongst the rubbish that she knocks aside before setting down your glass of water. she has a beer in her own hand and pops the cap off with her teeth, though the motion isnt quite how youre used to seeing people do it. she takes a big gulp before she keeps talking.

so what do you want your pussy to look like, she asks. you splutter a bit. she says you are the one who needed their bits redone right. you flush and say yeah thats me. she nods and says right so what do you want. you struggle to give a good answer and she starts asking questions. depth? width? color? clit size? you give your answers falteringly. she starts asking about labia. oh, you dont want dentata, do you, she says. that costs extra. you say you dont know what that means. she says dont worry about it. hey do you wanna get pregnant? you splutter again. not now she clarifies. well i can get you pregnant now too if you want that. doesnt even have to be human i think i have some horse sperm around here if you want. i just meant like ever in the future. you say you dont know. she says okay shell leave it out for now but come back if you ever want her to put the womb in. youre too stunned to reply.

she says oh do you want to keep your dick, i can do that. you say you thought they needed the tissue from the penis in order to make the vaginal lining. she laughs and takes another gulp from her beer. she says so is that a no. you say you guess you hadnt thought about it. she says she can reschedule if you need to think, no rush. you say no i guess i dont want it anymore. she nods and says come back if you change your mind.

she says ok, i think i can start operating now if youre ready. you say okay and she tells you to lie on your back and strip naked. you follow her instructions. youre still not sure if youre going to die today or not. she pulls on a big pair of rubber gloves. not latex medical gloves, they're yellow dishwashing gloves. she grabs a small jar of what looks like petroleum jelly off a shelf nearby. you cant help but notice that theres also lube, condoms, saran wrap, and a bottle of honey on the same shelf. you dont ask. she starts vigorously rubbing the jelly into your skin from the belly button down. everywhere it touches you instantly go numb. she keeps talking while she works. a lot of it is her telling stories about "her amy." you cant tell if amy is a sister, wife, or pet. she might be all three.

she reaches up to grab an empty syringe off the top shelf. when she stretches you notice shes naked under the hoodie. you look away bashfully. she doesnt seem to notice.

she fills the syringe with liquid from a bucket in the closet. the liquid is neon green. she injects it into your inner upper thigh. you are now certain you're going to die today, but you cannot make a break for it with your legs numbed, so you wait.

she says okay this is the part where a lot of people get squeamish so look away if you think you might get sick. she pulls out a set of knives. some of them look like dentistry tools, some of them are medical scalpels, and some of them are kitchen knives. you look away. she starts humming to herself while she works. the tune is pop goes the weasel.

hey, she calls out to you from between your legs, how many nerves do you want in your clit? you say uh i dont know, whats a normal amount. she says about ten thousand give or take two thousand in either direction. you say ten thousand sounds fine. she doesnt respond, just goes back to humming. its a different tune. shes humming old macdonald now.

she gets up a couple times to grab new drinks. you say should you be drinking during an operation? she says dont worry i know what im doing. besides i never took the hippocratic oath. she laughs at that, the sound somewhere between a giggle and a cackle. you don't think its that funny. she resumes her work.

this time shes humming the alphabet song. you ask how old are you anyway? she says somewhere between 12 and 47. then she laughs again. you decide to stop asking questions.

four beers, two diet cokes, three unidentifiable cigarettes, and five hours later, she stands up and announces shes done. she wipes her brow without taking the glove off, smearing unidentifiable bodily fluids across her forehead. she jabs another syringe into your other thigh and the feeling returns to your lower body. you're a little sore but other than that you feel great. she wheels over a full length mirror and tells you to take a look. its perfect. youre everything youve ever dreamed you would be. you cant describe how euphoric it feels to see a vagina, your vagina, between your legs. you thank her tearfully. she smiles awkwardly. of course, shes saying.

how much do i owe you you ask. she shrugs. iunno, a hundred bucks? im not in it for the money. you pay her the hundred bucks and leave quickly. you barely remember to get dressed again before heading out. you have never seen Riley again.

[deancaskiss]

exciting news time!

the last few months have been really hard at the clinic i was working at (and that’s why i haven’t shared much with yall about my vet journey). there was a lot of drama and disrespect that i faced and it felt like it was no longer a good fit for me. I’ve been looking for a new clinic to move to and i found one in the old company i was going to work for originally when i graduated vet school (i got an offer from this other company during vet school but ended up turning it down at the time and picking a clinic closer to home). this new clinic I’m going to work for is a longer commute then I’m used to, but this clinic offers amazing mentorship and training, amazing opportunities for me to learn surgery (which is something i am SO passionate about), offers me a HUGE pay raise, and one of the doctors works with exotic animals and will be teaching me how to work with exotics too!!! this is like a dream come true for me to work at a clinic that will help me to thrive and grow as a doctor in the aspects i am desperate to learn (surgical experience and working with exotic species) and I am so so so happy!!!

I start working there on april 1st and I’m so excited to be joining a team that i really connected with and feel like I am going to really excel and better myself as a veterinarian!! 💜

[darkworkcourier]

Hi yes I've been enchanted and ensnared by @cyber-nya's Monster 141 AU, so I rolled around in that sandbox like a heathen.

---

Dr. Adler's easy to figure out. Price picks up on it the second he walks into the infirmary on his weekly blood pack acquisition mission. Rather than the usual overly-sterile, Clorox smell, he's hit with a scent wave that screams herb garden. It makes him blink hard, reeling back, covering his nose with his wrist.

Once he recovers a little, he sees stacks of cardboard boxes, all marked up in German—Zauberbücher, Kristalle, Tränke (Zerbrechlich!), among many, many others. Adler stands in the middle of her cardboard castle, holding up two little vials up to the light. She frowns, taps on one, and tilts her head when it... changes color, turning a deep mauve.

Price wavers on whether to leave her to whatever it is she's doing, or interrupt her. He decides on the latter, mostly because he's starving, and they still have another week and a half before he can get anything fresh.

"Doc?" he tries.

"I heard you come in, Captain Price," she says, not bothering to turn her head. The vial in her left hand changes color again to a fetching chartreuse. "One moment. These are very volatile."

"Like exploding kind of volatile, or...?"

"Volatile as in prone to either reverse the order of your internal organs, or potentially cure a hangover." She pauses, squints. "I can't remember which one does what."

That seems incredibly important. Price presses himself against the wall by the door, all too happy to make a break for it if it means his small intestine won't come out his nose. Not that he uses his small intestine for much these days, but he'd rather not experience that.

In the end, she seems to decide which potion does what, setting the chartreuse vial down on her desk, and tucking the other vial (deceptively clear) in a cast iron chest that looks like it was probably made in the medieval period. She locks it twice.

Once that's done, she sighs and turns to face him. "Sorry about that, Captain. What can I do for you?"

"Just swung by to pick up, uh, supplements."

Dr. Adler raises one dark brow. "The blood packs, you mean."

He didn't remember telling her about his status, but seeing her turn their formerly boring infirmary into a witchy apothecary makes him think that it wouldn't matter if he told her or not. "Yeah," he says, rather lamely.

She nods, dusting her hands off on her lab coat, before walking over to the mini-fridge. "Do you have a preference?" she asks.

"No," he replies. "Learned not to be picky."

At that, she suddenly stands up, abandoning the fridge empty-handed. Price watches her with suspicion as she approaches her fortress of boxes with the expression of a woman on a mission. Her hands hover in front of her, going over the boxes like a human metal detector, before finally landing on one of the boxes marked Tränke. She carefully moves it to her desk, rifling through its contents (which sound alarmingly fragile) before lifting a squat, rotund little glass full of wine-dark liquid. As soon as she pops the cork, the smell hits Price like a bus.

Fae blood. Fucking hell, he'd know that stuff anywhere.

Adler winds through her labyrinth of boxes toward him, and it takes a hell of a lot of self control not to rip the bottle out of her hand. Instead, she politely hands it to him before returning her hands to her coat pockets.

"Try that," she says. "It's not completely fresh, and I won't be able to refill all my stock for at least a few weeks, but it should help."

She doesn't need to tell him twice. Price drinks the bottle's contents in one go, only vaguely thinking that maybe he should have asked how much he could drink. Dr. Adler's expression doesn't change, even when the bottle's completely dry, so he assumes it's fine. And it's good. Fae blood is sweet on his tongue, a shimmery white wine to a human's dark claret. It fills him up, gets his head clear, saturates all the colors in the room, and makes his peripheral vision glow. In short, it's fucking awesome.

"Oh," he says. "That's..."

"Stop by when you need more," she cuts in with a shrug. "I have a few other varieties. Some are harder to come by than others, so I'll have to be a bit frugal with those. Give it a couple weeks and I should have better stock."

"Thanks, Doc," Price replies, a little in awe. He hands her the bottle, knowing if he keeps it any longer, he's going to break it open and lick up the remainder.

"Gern geschehen," Dr. Adler replies. She replaces the cork, then turns on heel and goes back to her boxes.

Price decides it's better to leave her be for now. But as he leaves, he gets why she came so highly recommended.

---

As easy as it is to figure out that Dr. Adler is their resident witch-on-call, it's stupid hard to identify what ever Carrion is.

When she leaves a room, the arguments get heated. Gaz swears up and down she's another kind of witch. Maybe a... flight one, if that's a thing. She's good at piloting, having, quoth he, "A weird relationship with gravity." That has to be a witch trait.

No, argues Soap. He smelled something on her, but it wasn't the same as the strange herb-earth-magic scent that follows in Dr. Adler's footsteps. No doubt she's not human, but it irks him with the same sensation of having a word on the tip of his tongue. He knows this. Shapeshifter, maybe? Some kind of weird changeling? But neither of those seem right.

"You sniffed her?" Gaz asks, incredulous.

"Not on purpose!" Soap retorts. "I just so happened to smell her when she walked by!"

"Creep," Gaz sagely confirms.

Soap responds by tackling Gaz with a decidedly dog-like growl.

For the next four weeks, the 141 puzzles over their pilot. She seems blissfully unaware of the way they stare at her, happily in her own little world. She sings to herself, preens when they compliment her after a flight, hops away in little dance steps after every mission.

Then a mission goes wrong.

They're across enemy lines, helo half-drowned in a river, a storm battering the landscape, desperation making monsters of all of them. Soap was the first to lapse, literally tearing through hostiles with otherworldly howls and snarls. Price rips open throats, pupils blown, jaw dripping with blood. Gaz pierces soft body after body with an impossibly-sharp sword, maw burning with embers as his secondary form threatens to come loose.

And Ghost— It's hard to argue with death incarnate, especially if you're on the debating team.

Everyone's so caught up in the fight, in the desperate high-stakes bloodbath, that they don't have time to check on their pilot. She got out of the crash, confirmed she was safe, and that was all.

But then Soap's pinned by gunfire, forced to crawl under rubble just to escape the onslaught. He pauses, paws burning into the mud underneath him, thinking on the best strategy to get through a wall of human hostility. During that dull roar of a lull, something catches his eye.

The first thing he thinks is that is a fucking huge bird.

The second thing isn't so much a thought as it is shock at the sight of a talon the size of a pickax piercing a man's skull like a melon. Wings furiously beat, the sound like a snarl of thunder, and a high-pitched shriek makes Soap's sensitive ears ache.

Only then does he register that it's Carrion. Their Carrie, their happy-go-lucky beam of sunlight pilot who sings made-up songs and dances like a moron when she thinks no one's watching—that Carrie is leaving gouges in their enemy like they're nothing. Her arms are massive wings, black and white tapering to red (just like the bearded vulture on her helmet, and now Soap just feels stupid), legs now scaled and ending in those deadly talons. Her head's the same, except her hair's loose from its braid and falling around her shoulders in a windblown mess, and her mouth opens to reveal two rows of razor-sharp teeth.

She's a fucking harpy.

Soap watches in awe for a moment more before realizing she's still by herself. As badass as it is, he clips around the corner of the rubble pile to attack the group from the opposite end, meeting her in the middle. Once their enemy is just a smear in the mud, he finally looks up at her, huffing once in gratitude.

"No problem," she says, smiling with her wicked teeth. Her voice is higher, crackling like lightning. It's awesome.

Their mission wraps up quick after that, a massacre split five ways, fur and feathers truly flying.

Once they're back at base, beaten and battered but otherwise whole, Carrion slinks away to the showers. The rest of the 141 leaves her be, allows her a private moment to get herself back in order.

And Gaz sums it all up with a firm, "That was badass."

Everyone hums, growls, or hisses in agreement.

[undeadgayboynes]

Jeffrey Combs characters datability tier list

With explanations; A to D, left to right

-Anton Mordrid

Pros: Literally the perfect man. Intelligent, honest, respects you, owns a bird. Communicative.

Cons: A landlord

-The guy from Cyclone (I don't care)

Pros: Very smart, respects your intelligence, will participate in your hobbies even if they don't align with his interests. Charismatic and flirty

Cons: Might die and leave you with the task of protecting a super weapon from the shadow government

-Crawford Tillingast

Pros: Earnest, hardworking, very sweet, intelligent. Will probably remember your birthday. Wears oversized sweaters you can steal

Cons: A pushover, really bad luck, probably not fully emotionally ready for a relationship

-Chaz

Pros: A dork and seemingly a wimp, but will actually surprisingly brave when necessary. Well dressed. Objectively very cute

Cons: Is named Chaz. Complains a good bit, kinda snippy. Infectious anxiety

-Andrew Paris

Pros: Fine as fuck yet highkey a dork, will tell you interesting facts about things. Does his best to be a gentleman

Cons: Kind of incompetent, impulsive. Won't set up boundaries with people trying to hit on him. Seems experienced, but I don't think he's ever touched a boob.

-Dr. Haggis

Pros: Strong morals and will do what he can to uphold them, able to keep a level head in difficult situations. Takes care of those around him. Respects you and takes what you say into serious consideration.

Cons: Lack of confidence, won't say what he means. Alcoholic and smoker with no sign of wanting to change, used as coping mechanism. Pessimistic

-John Riley

Pros: Puts on a brave face, optimistic, hard worker. Loves his family very deeply. Genuinely trying to fix his issues. Will make the right decision when push comes to shove.

Cons: Alcoholic in a way that endangers those around him. Wants conflict to resolve on its own, uncommunicative, will lie to you. When he slips, he slips hard. Has potential to be unfaithful

-Dinosaur Bob

Pros: Fun and carefree, will take you on the ride of your life. Cool mustache. Sees you as an equal

Cons: A bit TOO carefree, irresponsible and impulsive. Does a LOT of drugs and will probably try to get you to do them. Sociopathic and violent tendencies. No morals.

-Francisco

Pros: Confident. Will accept when he is genuinely wrong. Impartial party, focused on facts.

Cons: Literally no opinions of his own, will let awful things happen because an authority says it's fine. That haircut and those glasses. Extremely desensitized to violence. "Facts over feelings" motherfucker

-Shepard Lambrick

Pros: Sugar daddy, will buy you a lot of nice things and you'll definitely get in the will. Cool mustache. Doesn't let people disrespect you.

Cons: Sociopathic and violent tendencies, enjoys other's suffering. Manipulative. One percenter and proud of it. Pushes boundaries.

-Herbert West

Pros: Intelligent, passionate. Will give you gifts. Includes you in his hobbies. Does the 🥺 face

Cons: Will not listen to you nor respect your boundaries. Grand gestures instead of communication, love-bombing. Extremely jealous. Manipulative. Sociopathic and violent tendencies. Condescending, thinks he's better than everyone else, no respect for anything or anyone. Impulsive. Does the 🥺 face

-Milton Dammers

Pros: Passionate and hard working. Speaks his mind.

Cons: Will not listen to you, no ability to compromise. Probably smells bad, greasy hair. Aware of his faults and has no want to change. Obsessive. Probably into some weird shit

-John

Pros: Ridiculously hot, will rock your world. Will break rules with you, in a hot way. Makes you feel appreciated

Cons: Will suicide bait you, ridiculously manipulative. Will ghost you. Kisses a rat on the mouth. Your boundaries? Never heard of them. Will love bomb you and hold that above your head.