tamsyn muir said here is my main character. she is 2 sauces tall and soggy and bleeding. she has not slept in 3 weeks and she gets scared when people smile at her. she is madly in love with a dead body. actually 2 dead bodies. a sigle sour patch xtreme would kill her instantly. you will think about her every day for the rest of your life.
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cw. boothill x f!reader drabble, riding (but really he’s the one in charge), piv penetration, cyborg dick, a hint of dacryphilia perhaps, this is seriously just some major brainrot im having please help, minors dni pls and ty :)
cold metal bites into the supple flesh of your hips.
it’s a stark contrast to the heat your body radiates, icy fingertips clutching you tightly as boothill guides you along his dick, sinfully dragging against the fluttering walls of your pussy.
“ridin’ me so well, cutie. you like being used like this, huh?” sharp teeth graze the sensitive skin of your throat before he laughs, deep and condescending. “i’ll make sure you’re satisfied. can’t have you doubtin’ me again, can we?”
you’re too fucked out to even answer. boothill’s strong hands force you to bounce on his ribbed metal cock, drawing whines and mindless babbles from your lips as you slump against him. your hands pull and tug at his silky hair while you plead, “hol’on, waaait, s’too much..!”
it’s honestly your fault that you’re even in this situation. you had teased boothill about his cyborg body—“you get a dick attachment with that robo-body or what?”—and now you’re paying the price.
“too much now?” boothill sneers, sharp teeth glinting in the low lights of the room as he looks at you. his red pupils drink in your debauched expression, the way sweat beads at your temple and drips down your face.
he suddenly slows, grinding his hips up in to yours as he drags a hand up the slope of your body, leaving a trail of icy nerves in its wake. he grips your face, squishing the fat of your cheeks. silvery tears of pleasure line your lashes, something boothill smugly takes note of. when a tear trickles down your cheek, he’s immediately leaning forward to lap it up with his tongue.
“thought you said i wouldn’t be able to keep up with the real thing. you so sure about that now?”
your attempt to shake your head is stopped only by the way he grips you. he leans in, nipping at your plush lower lip before he continues.
“i do love a challenge, though.” his voice is rough, tinged with heated desire as he grinds his dick further into you. “am i proving ya wrong, sweetheart?”
“yes,” you whimper, thighs trembling as he kisses you, long and deep. boothill moves his hand back down to your waist and takes up his earlier pace, using you almost like his own personal fucktoy.
“that’s a good girl,” he drawls. “let me take care of you, yeah?”
please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!
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You don’t understand, I NEED to see how Adrien would pretend to be Félix for something. I need some sort of situation where Félix needs Adrien to pretend to be him for a few hours so he can get away for a while and for Adrien to at first be like, “You sure? I’m kinda rusty but I think I can pull it off!” And then for Adrien to immediately dial up the dramatics the second he’s in Félix’s clothes.
I need Adrien to exaggerate all of his cousin’s traits, being over the top cryptic, cold, and snarky one moment then a dramatic showman the next. I need Adrien to visibly be having so much fun because he’s helping his cousin by making fun of him a little. I need Félix to witness Adrien’s performance and be like, “Oh no, he’s terrible, this was a mistake—” but then be absolutely wrecked by the knowledge that NOBODY is noticing a difference aside from like, Kagami and have a mini crisis of “Is this how I act?? That’s not how I act?? How are they falling for this??”
And by the end of it Adrien is like, “Y’know, that was really fun! We should do this more often, I see why you do it all the time! :D” And Félix is just sitting there. Head in hands. Grappling with this new information.
Also just:
Adrien, pulling out an absurd amount of stolen rings out of his pockets: Also what do you do with these once you’ve got them? I might’ve committed to the role a little too much.
Kagami, nodding along very seriously: Your method acting is incredible.
Félix, staring in horror: I’m not a kleptomaniac… Am I?
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I like the thought that Celebrimbor puts a Fëanorian star on the Doors of Durin because it means he's made peace with his past; it's a sign he's let go of any bitterness and resentment he might - however justifiably! - hold towards his father and the rest of his family, and he's moving on.
But at the same time, I really like the idea that it's also a statement. That star is the device of the House of Fëanor, and he is the last member of that house still living in Middle-earth. And by putting the star on the West-gate, what he's saying, effectively, is: "I am the House of Fëanor now, I decide what our legacy in Middle-earth is to be, and I say this is what that house now stands for: friendship, inclusivity, co-operation, trust, peace."
And I don't think those two ideas are mutually exclusive. Often laying old ghosts is the necessary prelude to making that kind of positive change. And I do love the idea of Celebrimbor as someone who is constantly, consciously trying to do better.
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Wanted to share this on my own too - so incredibly honored and proud to have made this cover for Mezzo, a new story from @swaps55. A fitting reveal for N7 Day, and one of my favorite things I've done to date!
The fic, by the way, rocks.
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