#i need a tag for my personal shite what about

[simon-sehs]

due (18+) pt 2

pairing: f!reader x simon ‘ghost’ riley

tags / cw: f!reader, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, sexually repressed!reader, smut, pining, flirting, inappropriate conduct, seduction, sexual tension, possessive!simon, mind games, public sex, virginity kink, fingering, oral sex, pussy eating, masturbation

You avoided him like the plague.

Tried to, anyway.

You couldn’t handle the thought of being near him without being able to touch him, or outright jump his bones. You relied on a daily mantra to keep yourself sane.

He’s not interested, you’re just desperate.

You laid in bed and glanced at the alarm clock. 2:36 in the morning.

It had been a couple days since Ghost had left the infirmary and started acting… weird. Cryptic.

You scoffed. Isn’t that just the default?

But then again, the things he had said to you… talking about you being… green…

…Touching you…

He knew you were a virgin, somehow.

God, was it really that obvious? But there was no way he could have made it to that conclusion alone. Soap knew, sure, but he wouldn’t have said anything.

…Would he?

Ah, hell…

You groaned and rubbed your tired eyes. It had to have been Soap. And then something else dawned on you.

Why did it matter?

Ghost was your Lieutenant. You trusted him, even if he was an ass sometimes. Personal things like this were bound to come out of the woodwork. It’s not like it would become relevant, anyway…

Even though you wanted it to be.

Maybe that was the problem. This whole ordeal had you feeling like a teen boy who discovered boobs for the first time. Hell, maybe even a lovesick little girl. Shit, would you even go that far? How much of your feelings were actually… authentic, vs the want—no, need—to get laid?

You carefully left the comfort of your bed and exited your room. The hallway was dark and cold on the bare legs not covered by your pajama shorts. A cup of coffee at this hour wasn’t the best idea, but it wasn’t like you were going to get proper sleep anyway.

You slowly and silently entered the empty mess hall… and froze.

Fuck. Me.

Ghost was sitting at one of the tables, his back facing you as he sipped from a mug of what you could only assume was his usual tea. However, he didn’t seem to know you were there.

Get. Out. Get out, get out!

You slowly turned on your heel, your bare foot squeaking against the damn tile.

Shit.

“Sergeant. What are you doing in here?”

You turned back around, but this time, your foot did not squeak against the floor again, as if to pour salt in the wound. You crossed your arms defensively. “Stalking you, obviously.”

He had turned to face you, his eyes instinctively moving to your bare legs for a second before returning to your eyes. “Funny.”

“I try. Can I go?”

“No. Not until you answer me, honestly.”

You sighed. “Came to have some coffee. What about you?”

“Not your concern.”

You grit your teeth. “Whatever.” You turned to leave now that his curiosity was sated.

“Wait…”

You paused and turned back around.

Ghost lifted his balaclava slightly to take a drink of his tea. You took the opportunity to soak in the sight of his jawline, his lips…

He set the cup back down and looked at you. “Come, sit.”

No. Bad idea.

Yet, you walked over and sat down across from him. He carefully pushed his mug towards you. “You can do better than that piss poor shite they call coffee here. Try this.”

“What if I don’t want to share your germs?”

He stared at you.

“Fine…” You picked up the still warm mug and tentatively took a sip. You weren’t sure what the flavor was, it tasted slightly bitter, but still pleasing to the tastebuds. You took another drink.

“Alright, don’t fuckin’ hog it…”

You set the cup down and pushed it back towards him. He took a drink.

Your gaze settled on his eyes, which appeared tired and haggard with the lack of makeup around them. It was weird, seeing more of his bare skin than usual.

“Nightmares?” You guessed.

“None of your concern.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then…”

“I change my mind, you can leave.”

You braced your arms on the cold table. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I making you feel uncomfortable, Lieutenant?” You asked sweetly.

His dark eyes met your gaze, but he remained silent. He leaned back in his chair. “Hm. Do I make you uncomfortable, Sergeant?”

You mulled it over in your head. Did he?

“None of your concern.” You said flatly.

“Ah, so not only are you a prude, but a jokester as well.”

You knew it was intentional. He was trying to piss you off, and you knew it. And yet, it still worked. “Yeah? So what?”

He smirked. “I hit a nerve, love? What’s the expression…? ‘It’s a joke, not a dick, don’t take it so hard’…” He chuckled.

“Let’s quit with the bullshit. Your little favor I owe you… you want my virginity, don’t you?”

“Ah, you’re not too daft after all. Good girl.”

You leaned back in your chair. “What I want to know is, why on Earth do you think I would indulge in your request?”

“Because you like me.”

“Do I?”

“I have plenty of reason to believe so.”

“Then you’re delusional.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Alright, then. Consider the favor forgotten.”

“…Wait, what?”

“You heard me. Consider your little mission fuckup buried and forgotten. Wouldn’t want to… pressure you into anything, of course…”

Your brows furrowed as he talked. This… was good, wasn’t it?

So then why did you feel disappointed?

“…What game are you playing at, Ghost?”

“Me?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one pretending that you don’t want anything to happen between us. I’ve seen the looks, the blushing… you’re not slick, love. But please… keep telling me I’m the delusional one…”

You frowned and glanced away.

“So, let me ask you, Sergeant: what do you want?”

“I… it doesn’t matter what I want…”

He took a drink of his tea. “How noble of you. Answer the question, properly. That’s an order.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You then closed your mouth and sighed.

“…Fine. I’ll take a guess.” He said, putting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. “You want me to take your virginity.”

You stayed silent, squirming in your seat.

“I hit the nail on the head?” He smirked. “I wonder… just how much you long for it. To lose that self-control, that pride you have for holding onto it for this long…” He took another drink. “To let someone take care of you… someone who… knows what they’re doing…” He whispered.

Your heartbeat accelerated, your skin beginning to feel hot all over as his words hit close to home. You swallowed. “W-what do you get out of it?”

He seemed surprised by the question, but chuckled with a smile. “What do I get? Well… I finally get to see what makes you tick in the bedroom. I get to bring out a new side of you, one that’s been boiling under the surface for… god, how long? Who knows. And, well, I’d be lying if I said the idea of ruining you for anyone else didn’t turn me on.” He leaned forward in his seat. “To fuck you so good, you won’t even daydream of gracing anyone else’s bed…”

You released a shaky breath.

“Poor girl, are you getting aroused?” He cooed. “C’mere.”

You stayed glued to your seat. “Huh?”

“Did I stutter, love? Come here.”

You waited a couple more moments before you slowly stood from your chair and walked around the table to him. He stood from his seat as well, now towering over you.

“Look at you… tell me what you want...”

“I… want you…”

“Yeah? What else?”

Frustration started to simmer beneath your skin. “I want… want you to fuck me…”

He chuckled and you started blushing. Then he slowly reached out and held your chin, his fingers hot and rough on your skin. “You sure?”

You nodded.

He let go of you and trailed a finger down your neck, the middle of your chest, along your bellybutton, and stopping at your shorts, where he traced along the hemline, caressing the bare skin between your shirt and pants.

Your eyes widened as the finger slipped inside the waistband…

“W-wait, there are cameras in here!” You whispered.

“I’ll delete the footage.” He said without skipping a beat.

“…What? You have access to that?”

He just raised an eyebrow.

“…Oh…”

His fingers continued delving into your shorts, past your underwear. You could hear the sharp intake of his breath as he made contact with your pussy.

“You poor thing…” He cooed. “You’re so wet, so eager to be filled…”

You could feel a blush forming again at his words, his fingers carefully rubbing and prodding at the different parts of you, as if mapping you out to memory. It felt arousing, but… weird.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

His brown eyes bore into yours. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m playing with your cunt.” He pinched your clit, making you yelp, and you clasped a hand over your mouth before glaring at him.

“Don’t give me that, love, or I’ll leave you empty handed.”

Your sigh was muffled by your hand, which you slowly dropped before making your gaze neutral again.

“Good girl…”

Ah, shit. This again. You moaned.

He finally adjusted his hand and started grinding his palm along your clit, the tips of his fingers swirling around your entrance.

Your heart raced in your chest, all of your nerves on high alert.

“You like this, love?”

You nodded. “Y-yeah…” You replied, breathlessly. “Can… can you do more?”

He tilted his head. “You’ll have to be specific. Do you want me to go faster? Do you want me to enter you? Do you—“

“In me. Please.”

He chuckled but complied, slowly slipping a finger inside. A choked sound left your throat. The sensation was odd, but… a bit fulfilling.

With one finger.

Heat washed over you at the thought of having his dick inside you.

“Oh, you really liked that, huh? I can feel you raining on my finger.” He started moving it in and out, making you moan. “You’re so soft… has anything else been inside? You? Toys?”

You blushed again and shook your head. “No, nothing.”

Ghost raised both eyebrows. “Nothing? You’re telling me you haven’t stuffed those pretty fingers inside once?”

“No… I always, uh… never-mind.”

He stopped his movements. “Tell me.”

You sighed. “I would always… uh… rub myself, instead…”

“Interesting…”

Then he entered another finger. You found yourself holding your breath, hands clutching onto his arms.

“Careful, love. Relax…”

You released your breath and breathed deeply. And then you could feel his knuckles at the base of your entrance. Oh. Oh wow.

He titled his hand to be cupping the curve of your cunt once more before moving his fingers again. You could feel yourself clenching around him, each stroke carefully caressing your soft walls, heat swirling around deliciously in your abdomen.

“Lieutenant, ohh…” You breathed out.

He stopped. “When I’m knuckles deep in you, you say my name.” He continued.

“Ghost…”

He curved his fingers, making you buck and moan. “Try again.”

You slowly met his gaze. “…Simon…”

“That’s it, lovie…”

You moaned again, laying your head on his shoulder as he continued to finger you. Your knees began to shake, much to your mortification.

“Having trouble?” He chuckled.

“N-no, I’m fine.”

“Good. Because I’m going to continue until you come on my fingers. And then? I’m going to eat your pussy, after.” He whispered into your ear, making you whimper. “You’re going to taste so sweet…”

“Oh, god…” Your grip tightened on him. “I… I think I’m gonna…”

“You think? Or you know?”

“I… I know. I’m gonna come…”

He started circling his palm against you, heightening your pleasure as his fingers lazily fucked you. Only then did you realize just how… loud… and wet you were down there.

“S-Simon…” You clenched around him, your orgasm making you twitch and your breathing stutter. Your previous orgasms had felt good, but at the hands of another? It was divine.

“‘Atta girl… good girl…” Ghost used his free hand to rub your back. “Now, lay down on the table.”

Your head was still swimming. “Huh?”

“Like I said, I’m gonna eat you out. Get on the table… no better place for it.” His grin was insufferable.

You let go of him and gingerly laid yourself on the table, wincing at the cold contact. Ghost either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, before he unceremoniously pulled both of your shorts and underwear to the side, and stared at your core. You started to feel somewhat self-conscious from his intense gaze.

“Fuck…” He muttered before leaning in and sniffing. Loudly. “Mmm…”

Your eyes widened and your face was on fire. Jesus…

And then it finally happened. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue up and down your folds, albeit a bit too eagerly. But then he slowed down, making his movements deliberate by circling your entrance, then your labia, and then your clitoris.

You moaned, very loudly. And then your closing eyes snapped back open as you felt his big hand closing over your mouth. “As pretty as your noises are, I need you to be quiet, you’re gonna wake the whole base.”

Then he continued licking you. You squirmed and jolted against him.

He sighed. “I’m also gonna need ya to stay still.”

“Thorry…” You mumbled against his hand.

Ghost smirked and then dived back in, but this time, he started sucking on your clit. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the arm that was stretched across your chest, holding onto your covered mouth as you quietly moaned against his palm.

“I was right,” he went back to his licking, “you taste amazing…”

Your neck ached as you held your head up to watch him, his movements precise and calculated. “Mmm…” You whimpered against his hand.

Wait, where was the other?

Your gaze followed the length of his other arm, still bandaged, which was slowly moving up and down. You couldn’t see past the table, but you didn’t need to. He was getting himself off. You moaned against his hand again, desperately wondering how he was doing it. You wanted to see so badly, and his hand on your mouth was preventing you from properly asking.

The fact that he was masturbating during this made you wetter, and your hips started grinding against his face, despite him previously telling you to stay still. But instead of chastising you, he simply raised an eyebrow and stopped his movements. Rather, he laid his tongue out and let you do as you pleased against it. Your legs wrapped around his shoulders, tightening behind his neck, making him moan.

“You’re very greedy for a virgin...” He breathed hotly against your pussy.

You didn’t bother with giving him a reaction. Your eyes may have been locked on his but you were tuned out, clinging to the sensation of the familiar build-up burning in your abdomen as the movement of your hips faltered, the angle of your body tiring you out already. Thankfully, Ghost saw his opening and continued his previous actions from earlier, before you took over.

You whimpered against his hand, grateful that he wasn’t going to let your budding orgasm falter…

And then he stuck his tongue inside you.

“Mmm!”

You winced as your head fell back against the table, but the sliver of pain didn’t matter. You were now coming again, your legs instinctively squeezing him closer to you. He grunted in response, but didn’t make any effort to let you know if he was uncomfortable, potentially getting suffocated by your vagina.

Hell, he probably likes that anyway.

But then your legs twitched and loosened as you rode out the momentary euphoria, and his hand slowly left your mouth.

You limped against the cold table, panting and exhausted. But Ghost did not seem to care.

“Up.” He commanded.

You groaned and slowly left the table, back aching slightly as you watched him walk over to a counter, grabbing a sanitation wipe.

Wait, what is he…?

And then he walked back over to you, and began wiping down the surface.

There was something so comical about the sight of your Lieutenant sanitizing a table after eating you out on it. But, you were also relieved and… endeared… that he was being so careful about this sort of thing. He then threw away the wipe and turned to face you.

“Alright. Now, go to bed, love.”

You snapped out of your stupor, confused. “Wait, what?”

“Sleeping. You know what it is, right? You get in bed, lay down—“

“Shut up! That’s not what I…” You cleared your throat nervously. “Is… that all you were… gonna do?” You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice.

He chuckled softly and crossed his arms. “For now, yeah.”

Confusion washed over you. For now? “Why?”

“Once again, I was right. You are a greedy little virgin.” His arms slowly untangled themselves as he walked up to you, a thumb tracing along your bottom lip. “You really want to know, sweetheart?”

Your heart flutters at the nickname. “Yes.”

“Fine…” His thumb left your lip as his hand began caressing your cheek, softly. “I want you to beg for more… for me. I don’t just want you to feel obligated to me, I want you to want to feel that way. I want you to enjoy feeling like that. Am I making sense?”

You blinked at him. “I… think so…”

“But… I’m also a patient man. I’m not going to rush into things, even if you say otherwise. I want you to squirm a bit, if I’m being honest. Make you really… soak it all in. Your feelings, that is.” He glanced down at your lips. “I want you to need me. More than you’ve ever wanted anyone in your life. More than you thought humanly possible…”

“…Are you done?”

“No.” He leaned in closer, your faces almost touching. “I want you to ache for me so badly, your pussy weeps at the sight of me. I want your everything.”

You continued staring at him. “I think you have issues.”

Ghost laughed heartily, the sound ringing in your head like sweet music. “Maybe. But… something tells me you like it.” He playfully smacked your face, before walking away. “You can have the rest of my tea.”

You don’t know where the anger came from. Maybe it was from feeling led on, in some capacity. Did you? You thought there was going to be more, the grand finale…

You turned to watch him go, before gritting out: “I’ll just find someone else, then.”

He quit walking but didn’t turn to face you. “Is that so, Sergeant?” Humor evident in his tone.

“Yes. It is.”

He chuckled. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

And then he left the mess hall without a single backwards glance. Your threat had fallen on deaf ears.

You stood there in the mess hall, alone and in the dark… mind racing…

…Fucker.

This wasn’t over.

[part one] [part two] [part three]

taglist: @waves-against-a-cliff @beansproutmafia

[the-golden-comet]

Character Voice Tag 2

Thank you for the tag, @jev-urisk ! Love Kaz just going to let a person pass out on the floor 🤣

My line: -Has realized as they're purchasing something.. that they forgot their wallet-

Your line: “We’ve run out of time? GET SOME MORE, THEN.”

Peter: Oh…(patting around coat pockets)…seems I’ve left my….(pat pat pat)…hmm….well, then. Oh, wait. Nevermind. (Pulls out flintlock) Forgot I don’t need to pay you for shite.

Benjamin: Oh BLOODY Hell…where did I…(patting)….PETER. Did you swipe my coin AGAIN?

(P: Love, you don’t need to pay for anything when you have a handsome pirate husband who can steal it for you.)

PETER.

Ali: Oh! Hm. Hey, sadiq…what is that over there? (Wallet behind the ear magic trick)

Noah: Shit! Uh…c-can I run home and grab it real quick? Yeah sure, I can leave my ID, I know right where it is!! I’ll be right back!

Tenshi: O-oh! I can’t have this without….what do you call it again? Yen? Umm….(glancing around nervously)…I-Ita….can you help me, please?

Tyr: Oh! Haha, right….about that….WAIT. IS THAT A GIANT?? (Yoinks item and flees, chuckling)

Tagging (no pressure): @honeybewrites , @gioiaalbanoart , @madi-konrad , @alinacapellabooks , @drchenquill , @paeliae-occasionally , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @rotting-moon-writes , @lychhiker-writes , @thatuselesshuman , @asassydork , @ramwritblr , @rivenantiqnerd , @somethingclevermahogony , @theaistired , @aintgonnatakethis , @frostedlemonwriter , @fortunatetragedy , @wyked-ao3 , +open tag! ✨

[forestshadow-wolf]

This is for @rainerestored because reasons (my DMs are open if you want)

Soap and ghost come out of a mission that went bad. Like every thing that could go wrong, went wrong. Intel was shite, there were too many enemies, the were WAY under prepared. They'd had to run and hide at a safehouse until exfil. And the worst thing about it? The "package" (some crimelord's son in exchange for info) wasn't even there.

Intel said it was a small compound, 1 building, 3 floors, 12 guards. That means 6 guards each, averaging 2 per floor per person, or 4 on each floor for both of them combined. They're capable, plus there were good vantage point to snipe from, before the even set foot in the building. Easy enough, right? WRONG

Intel laughs in their face with its, 3 dozen extra soldiers. To say that complicates things would be an accurate statement. It's not impossible, they've done it before, but they weren't exactly armed for it...

To look at the silver lining, and they are trying to find the silver lining, clearing the area was a good workout at least... also the target wasn't even there.

Now you're probably thinking, well why did they have to retreat to a safehouse? Well because there were 3 dozen soldier in the base when they entered, and an extra 12 soldier arrived as they were leaving, and they were out of ammo. Which is oh so great for them...

a little worse for where, but relatively unscathed. The "safehouse" (if it can even be called that) was a rickety shack with uneven walls and boarded up windows... man, fuck the military. Now they sit on the cold dirt ground, leaning against each other, and contemplating their life choices.

They both almost died, and yet neither of them are hurt, how in the hell did they get here. Well- the do know, just... you get it.

"Lets get married."

"What?"

It was ghost who broke the silence first. Which in and of itself isn't that surprising. It's what he said that was.

Why? Because ghost had already made it know that while he did love soap, with all he had, it was just that "married" life never fit him. And soap was always okay with that, he didn't need to be married to ghost, as long as he had him, he was happy.

"Lets. Get. Married."

"I thought- "

"I changed my mind. I wanna get married. To you."

It was said kinda rushed. Like it was urgent. Or like ghost was trying not to panic.

"Okay"

"Okay"

Ghost seemed to relax just a tiny bit after that.

"We'll need an ordained minister. And at least one witness." He said.

"I'll call up my sister when we get out of here. She can do it. And we'll have price and Gaz watch. Or we can invite the whole base and have a big party." Soap was quick to problem solve.

He wasn't sure what exactly brought this upon ghost, he had his suspicions, but he didn't need to know. All he needed was to be with ghost, and for them to be happy.

"I want a big party. But I want it soon, so nothing extravagant."

"We can do it on base, invite whoever wants to come. It'll be a week from today. Maybe Price cam pull some strings for a honeymoon."

"Yeah. Definitely. He can call it a training exercise. He's send us to the beach. Maui or Hawaii, maybe."

Soap nodded along.

"But you hate the beach."

"But you love it." Ghost said, his smile shining through in his voice.

"We don't have rings..."

"We'll use paper rings. One of the privates used to blacksmith, I think, private Weller. We can commission his to make us some."

"We can't wear them on the field." Soap fretted

"We'll put them on our tags. So they close.to our heart." Ghost soothed.

It almost seemed like this wasn't the first time he'd though about this. What changed? Soap didn't know, but something did, and it seemed like it scared ghost, and this was his way of dealing with it. Like maybe he thought they didn't have enough time to be together. Soap would indulge him.

[annaelizabethhenry1]

Spy Royale

Summary: River Cartwright finally may have found a way out of Slough House when a minor member of the Royal Family is hit with death threats and needs protection. The posh socialite Lady Alice Highgrove is niece to the King and isn’t keen on having some government lacky tagging along after her all day, crimping her style. However, when it becomes very apparent someone is indeed trying to off her, she and River are left untangling a web of deceit that goes back to a very unsuspecting place. Question is will they be able to figure it out before it’s too late for both of them?

Warnings: Violence similar to the show/books and cursing and bodily functions from Jackson Lamb ;-) River Cartwright x OC. As to spoilers I’m trying to stick to the end of season one as the pick-up point of this story so more people can enjoy it.

Word Count: 2,481

Chapter One

River Cartwright huffed up the creaky staircase of Slough House balancing a case of copy paper that had just been delivered.

“Catherine! Where do you want the paper to go? Copy room or your office?”

River started when she soundlessly appeared in front of him from the opposite end of the hall.

“Oh, River – thank you!” she said smiling, almost shyly. “My office. Last time I left it in the copy room half of it disappeared in less than a week. Some people have no qualms about stealing supplies from MI5.”

River pursed his lips and said, “Yeah, what cheap arseholes we work with.” Including himself as guilt washed over him.

“Cartwright!”

River dropped the case of paper at the sound of Lamb’s voice. He knew he should’ve waited till Lamb popped out for lunch next door to bring this upstairs, but River hated how nervous Catherine would get if he left it near the entrance – heaven forbid someone fell in an emergency she always said.

“River do be careful – it almost landed on my foot.”

“So, sorry Catherine,” he said.

River sighed, his shoulders drooping at the thought of dealing with Lamb. He shuffled across the hall to Lamb’s office – entering a thick cloud of cigarette smoke tinged with the rotting remnants of pad Thai in the rubbish bin from the night before.

“You screamed?”

“Is that a question? You’re so daft you don’t recognize my voice?”

River bit his lower lip, forcing himself to not respond to the jab.

“Just making sure.”

“Yeah, well thankfully we don’t have any other rejects from your gene pool cluttering up the office. Good thing your mum quit while she was ahead and stopped at you.”

What an insufferable twat, River thought.

Lamb descended into a coughing fit that shook his whole body. River wondered how he passed his medical every year sounding like a tuberculosis patient.

“Anyway, Lady Di has a task for you – seems you were chosen especially since you’ll relate well to the environment among other things.”

“Oh?” River was curious, but worried given how the Park liked to screw Slough House at every turn.

“Yeah – protection duty.”

River’s face perked up as he imagined some high ranking government official in need of his services. “I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

Lamb grabbed the file nearest him and waved it towards River. River reached over to grab it. “Yeah, don’t thank me yet.” Lamb released the folder and leaned back in his chair as it groaned under the strain of his grith.

River opened the file and frowned. “Why does she need protection if she’s never had it before?”

“Death threats – the Royal Family has been getting a slew since the coronation.”

“Isn’t this detail usually handled by the Met?”

Propping his sock encased feet up on the desk, he leaned back further, hands now resting on his rotund belly. “Yep, not enough resources to babysit a spoiled rich girl.”

“She’s only the niece of the King – they must feel it’s credible to give her protection, no?”

“Seems so. Personally I hate the lot of them. That pomp shite – huge waste of taxpayer money. Anointed by divine right my ass. You wouldn’t catch me bowing to someone who shits just like everyone else.”

Right on cue Lamb ripped a loud fart. River backed away to avoid the oncoming stench.

River flipped through the file, skimming over the threat assessment report and his assignment’s fact sheet. Lady Alice Highgrove, age 28 went to Cambridge University, job socialite. What? That’s not a job. Sure he’d seen her splashed across the gossip pages pictured at glitzy events Royals attended, but he didn’t realize that was all she did. River had a bad feeling about this duty.

“Umm, maybe Louisa would be better suited for this as she’s a woman.” Not that Louisa would get on with a spoiled Royal socialite, but at least she’d maybe vibe with the girly crap he dreaded.

Lamb belly laughed, his greasy hair shaking on his head. “She’d murder her inside of 24 hours.”

“One of the dogs?”

“Nope. Lady Di said her Royalness wanted someone at least somewhat attractive.”

River quirked a half grin.

“Yeah, don’t let that go to your head. You’re not being chosen for your skills, but for your pretty boy looks. Her father the Duke demanded she get government protection – you know him right – Duke of Windemere?”

“Ah, yes – the sketchy one with ties to Middle Eastern sheiks and princes and whispers about underage girls.”

“Yeah, that’s the one – don’t get mixed up in anything dodgy. Trot off to the Park for your gun and a stipend. They’re expecting you.”

“What?” River lit up – they were entrusting him with a gun? Maybe this was his ticket back into the Park.

“God, you look like an excited golden retriever. Don’t fuck this up Cartwright – or else they’ll stuff you in the Tower of London and throw away the key.”

“River,” Catherine chirped at him as he neared the staircase.

He stopped and smiled at her, “Yeah?”

“I had seen the file – I’m so proud you got the detail. I think you have a chance of finally getting out of here. You’re grandfather will be chuffed – protecting a Royal.”

“God, I hope so. And she’s a minor Royal,” River said attempting to down play the importance of the protection detail. He didn’t want to give his hopes up, especially since he didn’t know what Lady Alice was like when she wasn’t smiling in a fashionable ensemble.

“Nonsense! She attends Christmas at Sandringham and Royal Ascot. This is so exciting.”

River chuckled. “I think maybe you’d like the detail more than I would. I’ll text you if I need any insight – which I might.”

Catherine looked down and then focused upwards again on River. “That’s kind you’d think I’d be able to help you.”

River didn’t want to point out the obvious – namely her stack of Royal Life and Hello, arranged neatly in chronological order coupled with a Golden Jubilee mug she had on her desk as dead give aways that she certainly knew more about the world he was about to enter.

River arrived at Regents Park about 30 minutes later, file clutched in his hand with a spring in his step. Security let him through seamlessly as he was on the visitor list for a change and he didn’t even need an escort this time. Things were looking up.

Pushing his way through the maze of corridors, he spotted Spider up ahead holding a cup of coffee in one hand and an iPad in the other. River contemplated jogging to catch-up to him, but stopped himself from gloating about the protection detail. Did he need to brag and tempt the fates? No, absolutely not. He had had so little luck since crashing Stanstead that it wasn’t worth the momentary charge it would give him and risk the wrath of karma.

River knocked at an inconspicuous door that required a card swipe which he did not have – yet. He heard shuffling on the other side and the lock disengage. Duffy appeared in the doorway and eyeballed River with a blank look on his face.

“It’s the prodigal nepobaby. I assume you’re here for your service weapon and stipend?”

“Nice to see you too, Duffy. And yes I am,” River said entering the drab windowless office.

“Better you than me. Hope you enjoy garden parties and horse shows and all that posh crap,” Duffy said while unlocking a large metal cabinet. It was the gun safe. He pulled a simple handgun out, checked the tag, jotted down the number onto a form and continued, “Try not to shoot yourself in the foot or worse her with it. You’ll need to sign the form. Let me grab some bullets.”

River signed the release form. Duffy returned with bullets and a small back holster for the weapon. “Oh, and this,” he added, pulling out a credit card from a drawer in his desk. “Remember any charges will require back-up proof of the work necessity for the purchase.”

“Of course, I’ll keep a log. Thanks, Duffy.”

“You need to report to her flat at Kennington Palace at six this evening. She’s attending a fundraiser at the National Portrait Gallery. Look like you belong there – suit, tie – got it?” Duffy said.

“I know how to dress,” River said suppressing an eye roll. No bad karma. He had to stay charming, polite and lose his frustrated attitude about his work.

River arrived early at the Palace to ensure he wouldn’t upset his charge. An actual real life butler answered the door and let him into a foyer more grand than luxury hotels. To the right was a semi-spiral staircase to the left a checkerboard black and white marble floor that led to an archway where he heard a commotion.

A small ball of fur darted out in a blur of brown and white with flying floppy ears. All energy and shrill barking. River took a step back as it charged at him, excited paws scratching on his trouser leg.

“Whoa! Down boy or girl!” River tried backing up more and more till he bumped a plantstand.

“Sir! Have a care, please!” the butler said as he rushed over to steady a large crystal bowl of fresh flowers.

“So sorry,” River responded, feeling his cheeks warm.

In the chaos River hadn’t seen the young woman who he recognized as Lady Alice Highgrove enter. She wore a smirk as she bent down to pick up the energetic dog. “Naughty, naughty Mr. Darcy, you scared mummy’s new friend.” She nuzzled the dog to her cheek while batting her eyes at River.

“Pleased to meet you ma’am,” River extended his hand which she didn’t take and continued, “I’m River Cartwright.”

Lady Alice gave him the once over. “You’ll do, but you are bit more scruffy than I expected. I thought protection detail had to be clean shaven. Oh, and it’s Lady Alice, not ma’am. God, I’m not that old yet,” she said in a very posh RP accent.

She wandered past the archway into another room while River stood there wondering what he was supposed to do. “Well, aren’t you coming? Are you daft or something?”

“Uh, no, I didn’t want to seem impertinent,” River mumbled.

River took a deep breath. He was so out of his league with this detail. He hadn’t had time to find a protocol sheet on what to call her and all that other nonsense etiquette rubbish. He’d text Catherine later for some pointers.

Following Lady Alice into what he assumed you’d call a sitting room, unless it was a drawing room – he had no idea what the difference was to be honest. He watched her drop down on a very overstuffed toile patterned sofa and put her dog down next to her. The dog wasn’t sitting for more than five seconds before he made a bee-line for River again, barking and anxiously scratching all over his leg again.

“He likes you! That’s a good sign. You can pet him, maybe he’ll stop pestering.”

River supressed a sigh. Bending, he patted the fluffy cavalier spaniel’s head and smiled. “Hi there fella.” The dog snarled, snapped a little and River recoiled.

“Mr. Darcy! Stop that!”

“It’s okay, ma – I mean Lady Alice.”

“Is this your first day on the job?” she asked giving side long glance to her butler.

“No, I’m an experienced agent. I assure you.” Just not used to yipping dogs and Royal protocol he felt like adding. River also noticed she wasn’t dressed appropriately for a fundraiser at a museum more like a night out. He glanced at his watch, it was already quarter past five.

“You have somewhere to be?” Lady Alice asked, brow arched, head cocked, not unlike her dog as she too had brown hair and warm, but cunning hazel eyes.

“No, but don’t you? I was told you’re attending an event at the National Portrait Gallery tonight at six.”

“Oh, that’s what I told my parents. No, we’re actually going to Sketch to meet up with a friend of mine for drinks and then maybe a club afterwards.”

River scowled. There was no place more difficult to keep a potential target safe than a bar or nightclub. The noise, the crush of people, the lights, the alcohol and drug use made it a nightmare. Not to mention he couldn’t shadow her into the ladies toilets.

“Do you always look like that or do you have indigestion?” Lady Alice asked, stroking Mr. Darcy’s head.

Taking a deep breath and trying to make his face as neutral as possible, River said, “No. I’m just concerned about the challenge of keeping you safe in a bar or a club.”

“You said you’re experienced. Plus, I can’t believe someone would want to hurt me. I’m like 18th in line or something. I’ve lost track, too many cousins with babies ahead of me.”

He forced a smile. “Yes, I am. Certain venues are just not ideal, especially since I already mapped all the exits out for the National Portrait Gallery and various routes away from the venue just in case.”

Lady Alice hopped off the sofa and strode towards River and patted his cheek nonchalantly, “Aww, how cute, you like to be prepared. James Bond improvises all the time quite well. I suspect you can, too.” 

River felt his cheeks burn and bit his lower lip to stifle himself. “With all do respect this isn’t a film and that’s not what MI-5 is like ma’am.” He called her that on purpose – two could play at this game.

“The Sketch is only on the other side of the park and isn’t far from the National Portrait Gallery, so don’t worry, it’s the same escape route back to this heap. Come on, Cartwright, I’ll even let you drive my car,” she said with a wink as she made her way to the foyer.  “Wilson, do you have my coat and bag ready?”

River had no choice but to follow after the spoiled Royal. The butler apparently named Wilson helped her into her coat and then handed her the handbag seemingly out of thin air. She clicked open the purse, dropped her phone in and pulled out a set of keys. Wilson opened the door and she exited, River trotted after her with the dog zooming through his legs, almost tripping River. Regaining his composure, he noticed the butler followed them out and saw his minor mishap – not of his doing. However, that didn’t stop Wilson from giving him glaring side-eye.

“You think maybe the dog needs a leash or some training?” River said to no one in particular as he just couldn’t help himself at the sheer frustration. No one paid his comment any mind and he muttered, “Fuck me – I’m screwed.”

[vixenshiftsvrs]

I put random tags for this but I need advice about my friends

I asked my friend to go to a concert with me and she said we’ll go while waiting on her to message and say she’s ready to book the tickets I find out she has gotten tickets for another friend and is going with her instead I later find out my other friend also got a ticket with her. Then I was told that they had no way uo and where selling the tickets and now I’m seeing photos of them on the bus and going to the concert hall.

And no it’s not just any concert

ITS FUCKING HOZIER

The LOML

the person I find a way to bring into any convo of music, I’m in tears wished them a good time I just hope they know how much they have hurt me because I was told that they didn’t mean to leave me out when things like this happened before as I am always the one left out.

I’m at a loss at what to do, they have wrecked my mental health and I’m dealing with so much families issues and my parents split up and now my friends are treating me like shite on there shoe

[ferrocyan]

15 lines of dialogue

Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

15 feels like too few haha! i'm picking these mostly from finished fics, with a couple of wips at the end. feels like i could go on forever otherwise

tagged by @improvised-finish (tysm!!) and tagging @pillowfriendly and @worldoshaking i wanna read more of your wols pls pls pls (*>∀<*)

(duo)

"I've never heard of such a name before! From which fair land do you hail, friend?"

"Coer--" C'astarhte said something and promptly bit her tongue. She covered her mouth, then quickly added, "Pardon. Meant to say... I come from the Exarch's homeland."

---

C'astarhte looked distressed. She glanced around at the rest of the bar, then at Reeq, and whispered intently, "But this worked before... Crystarium people don't ask about the Exarch."

(detour)

"So we've never really fought together, no? When you say we're partners, I'd like it to be earned."

---

"Doesn't need to," Tart shrugged. "What matters is we do it together. No more objections, right? Surely not." She stuck out her tongue at Lue-Reeq, then headed to the stairs.

---

"You know," Tart said, "you're not bad. I don't know much about archery, but your technique is very clean. Efficient, no wasted movement, very well timed. I was amazed how fast you could nock arrows and have shots lined up perfectly. It was nice to fight with you. Good job, Reeq."

(drown)

She just had to kill Andreia. All would be well if she killed Andreia. Remember what she had done to Alisaie, to Alphinaud? Blackguard. Scum. Bitch. Just kill her and get it over with!

(ask of me)

"No," Tart cuts him off. "Don't want to stop, just... want you to stop pretending I'm not here."

"Am I?"

"You're not touching me, not saying anything, not even looking at me! What's with that, Reeq?" she pouts.

---

"Reeq, you like it when complimented and told you're doing a good job. I feel the same. So, not asking for more, you're giving back to me." She smiles, putting her hand on his. "I like you. Always want more of you. If you're having a good time then so am I. Wouldn't know that if you don't tell me, though, so let me hear it, yeah?"

(focus)

"you're scaring me a little, right now."

she smiles. "is that bad?"

"not at all. i quite like it."

"good."

(wurm)

"Say, remember when you asked, would I still love you if you were a worm?"

Reeq snorts. "Why yes, I do! I remember perfectly well," he pinches her cheek lightly, "when you told me that you would feed me to your chocobo."

(peel)

The man is ecstatic, so very amused that he cannot hold his giggles back. His feet kick as he laughs and his tail thumps on the floor, shaking with glee. Unable to wait for Reeq to finish his sentence, he fills in with an exclamation:

"Tart!"

Tart only makes himself laugh harder.

(division)

"ishgard has ways of denying certain people's existnce. mean really, completely erase them, unlike the shite that bishop was spewing about himself. my family no longer exists. how dare he accuse me of not understanding how it feels to be rejected? and how dare you take my prey?"

---

tart holds his focus in his right hand, blade in the left. his tail flicks uneasily. "go easy on me, won't you?"

"what? oh my, i never thought i would hear that from the warrior of light!" aymeric laughs as he readies his own sword.

"i'm ill, you blackguard."

"then maybe you should rest properly."

"hasn't helped. this might, so stay still and let me cast magic at you."

(out to the cold)

"--get it, i get it. zenos wanting me makes me a liability. now that you all have the dragon scales' protection, i am not needed anymore. you--they're setting you up as my replacement. no. no, they can't. won't allow it. can't let that happen. oh--you--you're here to kill me. you can't replace me! i'll kill you first! you're dead, estinien wyrmblood!"

(aphelion)

"not that i want to die, g'raha. just... wish i'd died back there. it wouldn't've been good, but it would've been perfect. my life could've ended perfectly. haven't you felt that way too?"

[thescholarlystrumpet]

New WIP Tag Game!

Courtesy of the wonderful @weirdly-specific-but-ok <3

Give me three lines/paragraphs that you've written that you love [fiction, non-fiction, from different works or the same, from completed stories or poems or WIPs, from yesterday or ten years ago]. If that seems hard, even one will do. It doesn't have to be perfect. It can just be something silly that gives you joy.

And give me three lines/paragraphs that you've written that you dislike and find shitty. Anything at all as long as you wrote it. If you think it's ridiculous or absolute fucking garbage, even better! That's the point of this game. To see that we all write good things and bad things. Yeah? You can do this. And remember that both these categories are subjective.

**

Shitty lines (hard to find not because I don't write them but because I erase them as fast as I can think of a new one...)

They were tree trunks wider around than some men are tall with myriad scrubby looking bushes around them, looking almost like God herself had just throw piles of leaves down haphazardly. (Crowley is accidentally Robin Hood and Strumpet is bad at describing foliage)

"Getting a bit long in the tooth for crawling around on bad carpeting, these days.” Crowley took a beat, shouted something obscene toward the screen, then turned his full attention back to Aziraphale. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you that, though. Since I was hoping you assumed I was a ripe twenty-something.” (RHPS WIP, just don't love that last line yet)

“But it was way cool of you. Really.” Newt smiled, a genuine and guileless thing, much like the man, himself. (Glam Rock AU - wanted Newt to awkwardly use 70's slang but google failed me and 'groovy' was too obvious)

Lines I love

RHPS Fic:

 “Do you often scare off audience members?”

“Only the ones with no imagination…” Crowley shrugged one shoulder. “Or the ones who only get on their knees in church.”

Priest AU:

When asked about Miss Device directly, Crowley seemed to give a different answer to every person: 

She’s my long lost aunt.

Sorry, never heard the name. Sounds a bit pretentious.

Wait, you can see her, too? 

Glam Rock AU: (this one needs context)

“I’m not repeating that,” she seemed to be talking to someone else, possibly covering the receiver as she did so. “You’re an absolute terror,” she told the other person before the muffling ceased and her voice was clear again on the line. “Sorry about that. We, uh, I mean I just needed to know if I should stock up on anything for Mr. Fell on Wednesday. Tea? Biscuits? Newt will know what I mean.” 

There was another series of sounds and more poorly stifled laughter, then a familiar voice chimed in, fuzzy and echoing in the background but unmistakable.

“Weetabix! So he can shite out that stick up his arse!”

The woman on the phone covered the receiver again, though not before releasing a snort of laughter, herself. There was a series of shushing noises and Fell knew he ought to simply hang up. The message had been delivered. And then some. 

Tagging @hakunahistata @voluptatiscausa @ineffabildaddy @mrghostrat @kotias @theravenmuse @malachitegrey @captainblou @ineffablyruined @mrscakeishere and anyone else who wants to!

[nothorses]

Asking on anon because I don't feel like getting fucking lambasted by both radical sides of this. But I think they're are some folks that talk about transandrophobia (not you, baeddel-txt, etc) that are starting to pick up on toxic masculinity in the same way TIRFs picked up on TME/TMA shite and the like. (I have it on my blog but only because I'm tired of getting a toss up treatment from shallow transfems and getting reduced to either a cis man or them insinuating I'm not who I say I am, and the like. Frankly as of today I'm muting all of the related tags on both sides because frankly... I need a break).

I agree with y'all just like, be aware of it just like transfems should be aware of our own problems.

I also dislike the whole TIRFs "reclaiming" baeddel as a.) It's literally a ye old slur for intersex people (re: tfems having a problem with fetishizing intersex people, speaking from personal experience here)

b.) it reads like a far inferior version of reclaiming the tslur, which tbh, I would just prefer if they did that.

Also I guess if you ask this and you care so much about who's sending this, I'll reveal myself, just don't make it public because I don't need to be getting harassed by TIRFs for being a weird reject because I just choose to be both a girl and a boy identity wise and clearly the everything not binary fem phobia (even if I meet the criteria of not "CAFAB" to them.) they have is still clearly alive and well considering I took a soft ban 3 months ago for it. (After getting a full ban rolled back bc of staff reviewing it.)

The "baeddel"/TIRF ideology reminds me a lot of my own internalized transmisogyny turning me into a shithead radfem both pre and post coming out, but also everything else going with it.

That's not to say that there isn't some areas where it can be disproportionate. I also don't understand the obsession with violence statistics when a.) It shouldn't be happening period and b.) I don't think either side is accurately reported, really, unless it's entirely relying on self reporting. Also c.) I don't know how much of violence on trans SWers is reported in that, i could see it being even or even mildly trans fem biased, not statistically significant though.

I'll be honest here in that I am not 100% sure I'm understanding you correctly, but it sounds to me like you're making a couple of different points that I'd love to be able to engage with- I think I just need some clarification first so I can make sure I'm not completely misinterpreting what you're trying to get across.

So like, if it's cool, I would love a follow-up ask to clarify a couple of things!

What are folks doing with "toxic masculinity" that you feel is similar to what TIRFs have done with TME/TMA? My understanding would be that TME/TMA were turned into a kind of definitive label that people use to determine who's allowed to speak on certain issues, who's "oppressed enough" to matter, etc., but I don't really see a way that parallels "toxic masculininity" among folks who talk about transandrophobia. Unless you mean that people are distancing themselves from the possibility of being masculine in a toxic way on the basis of their identity? (If that's the case, I think I'm misunderstanding the connection to TME/TMA)

Could you expand on: "The "baeddel"/TIRF ideology reminds me a lot of my own internalized transmisogyny turning me into a shithead radfem"? I think the sentence after that muddied what you meant, for me, and I'm curious what insights you have there!

Also RE: statistics, I really agree that there need to be more studies and research into these issues in order to get any real sense of clarity. IMO the best uses for statistics of violence and discrimination against trans people, specifically stats that tell us who is facing what kind of discrimination, is to better understand the systems causing us harm in order to work towards dismantling them.

Trying to determine "who has it worst" overall is pointless and self-defeating. The goal should be to understand why transmascs tend to face more lifetime sexual violence, while transfems tend to face more childhood sexual violence. Not to decide which issue to give a shit about and which issue to ignore, or which trans people "deserve" to be prioritized over all the others.

I will also say that the study I draw from more than others is the U.S. Transgender Survey, which relies on self-reporting. I recommend checking them out if stats interest you; they're pretty expansive and had a massive sample size. The 2015 results have been published for a while, and 2022 results are coming soon.

[jackoshadows]

I can't get over the Dany hate. Especially when pitted against sansa. I was reading "our choices seal our fate" by DolorousEdditor and I think they portrayed the love triangle without much bias against either Dany or sansa. Both had their negative qualities displayed - like sansa with her naiveity and selfishness and Dany with her 'i want it and i will get it' personality. And Jon is just Jon. But I see hate comments about Dany dying so that sansa can marry Jon and even namecalling two girls just because they're Dany's friends in this fic. And i get having a favourite OTP. Everyone has it. But why must someone die in order to achieve their otp's success. Jon loves both and it's gonna break his heart no matter who he chooses. And i want jonerys but the story seems like jonsa, what with Jon and his gratitude and honor and he won't choose actively to dishonour his chosen family, the Starks. Yet, some people are so threatened by Dany that they want her to die. When she's very important to the story as the author hints at the prophecy of her surrounded by dragons. So Dany is the one to hatch the dragons that might help the Starks - you know the family of some people's fav character- in the stand against the Others. Literally life or death difference. Yet they'd like it if Dany fell from a horse and died. Cannot enjoy conversations within this fandom because of such people.

What is this stealth Jonsa nonsense in my inbox? Did you send this by mistake instead of to someone else?

Nonnie, go crack open the books and read A Song of Ice and Fire and then maybe we don't need to discuss Jonsa fanfiction. I don't know about this story you mention.

Jon loves both and it's gonna break his heart no matter who he chooses.

Again, don't know about this fanfic, don't want to know. In the books Jon does not know that Dany exists yet and he's not shown an iota of concern for Sansa's situation and well being - which actually stands out because of the stark contrast with how he worries over Arya. Again, I don't read Jonsa fanfiction, don't care - get enough of their nonsense on the Jon Snow tags.

As for toxic Jonsa shippers - when one's ship is based on headcanons and making up stuff like 'Jon loves both' and how Dany and Sansa are going to face off and all that shite we got on the garbage show, then of course we are going to get the sexism and misogyny of the fandom where the lead female characters have to die to make way for their fave.

[claratyler]

Genuinely dont want to fight with you wincest shippers or anti-destiel people, i literally have no interest in this, you see im a real person and i have stuff to do and have no endless energy/time to spare to talk about things we will never agree on! For example, im a big sam fan and sometimes when i want to find posts about him i come across something i dont like/dont agree with and you know what i do? I continue scrolling. Literally theres no need to engage with stuff you dont like.

I make like 3 note supernatural posts all the time and use the main tags for organizing purposes or so that people who follow me who have spn or adjacent tags blacklisted are not attacked with my spn posts in their dash. Unfortunately this time it meant that it bothered you guys, and well, frankly thats about it. Im dont want to discuss this further, which is why i disabled replies and reblogs and to have you go as far as to make a post "replying" and tag me is..so confusing? You disagree. okay! Why do you need to tag me about it. Make a group chat, make your posts, talk amongst yourselves, why must you bother me?

Genuinely the last im interacting with any sort of bait from you guys, im just trying to express how much i am not fighting with you? Okay, goodnight! I have shite to do

[teacupsandcyanide]

how to customise your blog from within the app

With the whole Twitter exploding into a million tiny pieces situation we’re seeing a lot of people who haven’t been around for a good while or are completely/mostly new to Tumblr, and I’ve been seeing a lot of posts from regular tumblrinas saying “please change from the default icon and settings, you look like a bot”. I’ve been wanting to make some posts about fun ways to customise your tumblr experience and I thought I’d start with a basic bitch tutorial on what you can customise from within the app.

To give the app version of your blog the equivalent of a sick new haircut, go to the lil guy who lives in the bottom right? (?? I think it’s the right. I have dyscalculia but I promise I’m otherwise mostly reliable) side of your dash. Give him a smack on his phat bald head to gain entry to your profile page. Then go to the paint palette icon at the top of your profile.

From here you can change four five things:

Your blog title. This is different from your url and it doesn’t have to match your url or be unique, unless you personally feel the need to be unique. You can change it by tapping it to start editing; when you do you’ll see three menus come up. “Title” is where you change what the title is. “Font” allows you to select a font and some of the fonts have a bolded option. “Colour” will give you a colour sampler to pick a colour from. You don’t have to have a title and you can turn it off under the “font” menu, but having one will make it clearer that you aren’t a bot, especially if you don’t choose “sexyangiebabymilf6969” for your title.

Your bio. I have a Van Gogh quote because I have a separate about page*, so I’m fine letting my bio just be a faintly pretentious smudge of mystique. Other people will often have whatever name they go by online, their pronouns, and sometimes their age and what their main interests are, eg fandom, hobbies, special interests, you know, the neurodiverse slut stuff. People also put links there sometimes using html coding*, like the kids put their caard and some people put ko-fi. You can change your bio by tapping on it to edit. You don’t have to have a bio and can turn it off, but if you have one people will be much less likely to think you’re a bot, and they’ll get some vague idea of who you are and what content you like to paste into your online scrapbook.

Your blog background colour. This can be changed by tapping on the “background” button.

Your accent colour. This can be changed by tapping on the “accent” button.

Your header image. This can be changed by tapping on your header, and you’re able to zoom into a chosen picture to or drag it to reposition. You can also turn off your header or choose whether or not to stretch the image to the necessary size.

Your icon/avatar. This can be changed by tapping on the icon. You can choose to hide your avatar on your profile (it will still be visible on the dash), and select a square or round frame.

Extra note on colour customising. You can pick out a truly custom colour by messing about with the slider and colour sampler, but if you want quick and easy or you’re shite at colour sampling you can click on the circles of colour above the slider to see a range of different preset shades, including greyscale. Each circle has a range of a few pages you can swipe through. If they all turn out to be shite you can go back to the slider by clicking the rainbow circle.

Each time you change an aspect of your profile and are satisfied with it, hit “update” up in the corner before moving to the next thing. Once all the edits are made save them by hitting “save”, also in the upper corner.

Resources for headers and icons can be found by looking through the “headers” and “icons” tags. Please follow the rules of the people who make and share those (they’re usually just “don’t claim it’s your edit, don’t repost, and leave a like or reblog” but each person has their own). I’d also recommend image searching for patterns, as you can tile your header if you use a seamless pattern image, and looking through livejournal for icons (again, please follow creator rules, icons take time to make).

*This post is hopefully a precursor to a post or numerous posts about how you can customise your blog outside the app appearance, including adding pages and using coding to put links wherever you want, and I plan to link to more resources for customisation in said post/s. When/if I get around to writing that I’ll drop a link in a comment or reblog of this post.

Godspeed, have fun finding out how much of the bee movie script you can fit in your bio I remain ever faithfully yours etc

[dumbdomb]

you're aware that by putting no detrans kink so many times on your blog, tumblr recommends you as the number one blog for "detrans kink"? just wanted to warn you

#1 anti detrans kink blog! (joking)

right there at the top so it's easy for everyone to block me 🤷 when i simply had "detrans dni" then i got messages about how i'm excluding detransitioning people somehow... i originally had one simple and short dni paragraph, but no one would read my pinned post or what i wrote in my description. i don't want to add a label on every post i make, which would also show up in search results bc that's how this website works now 🙄 (as opposed to when you could only find things with specific tags, so tagging actually meant something and was very useful). yes, i lament the search feature every day here. what would you suggest i do to prevent certain kinks from going against my personal boundaries and non-consensually interacting with me? by forcing their own fetish on me, it's abusive behavior, NOT KINK. also i'm not kink shaming anyone by saying this, you need consent to practice kink- otherwise it's NOT KINK, full stop. the only other advice i get is to not be a trans person. i also get the usual unwanted likes from straight men, feeder, and incest kinks interacting. the most attention i get from messages is always about detrans kink for some reason... if being clear about my boundaries and blocking people who don't respect them is not enough, what else could i do? if only the detrans kink community made blocklists with me in the number one spot, but i'm sure they would just send me hate if that were the case. why are people with detrans kink so insistent on being abusive and shite towards fellow kinky people? i just don't want to deal with this, but it seems that detrans kink people will only be satisfied when the trans hating conservatives are happy, too. i wish more detrans kink people thought about THAT instead of assuming i share their fantasies just bc i'm nonbinary and queer. why is my attempt to have my boundaries be seen MORE important than the actions of abusive people invading kink spaces? when i see blogs with a dni for people over thirty or who don't want piss/omo blogs interacting (even when they like or reblog from me first) i respect their dni and kindly block them. it's not an issue i need to bring to their attention. i check their blog, and if i am not the type they want around then i respect that and move on. hopefully, seeing my blog and all the many attempts i've made to have my consent and boundaries be safely respected is enough for ANY ssc rack person to notice and carry on away from me and my blog. how would it not? <3

[drcalvin]

tag meme

Rules: tag 9 some people you want to know better and/or catch up with, then answer the questions below!

Last song: "Vode An" - Star Wars Republic Commando video game originally, but for me? YouTube.

Three ships: well uh at the moment I'm very 👀 about Obi-Wan Kenobi/Commander Cody (yes, yes I watched my first Star Wars movie when I was probably six and saw The Phantom Menace first week in the cinema and THIS is what I end up shipping? Idk either).

Then I spent quite some time shaking AO3 until I'd read all the John Sheppard/Rodney McKay that looked like it appealed to me... And a fair bit of the minimally tagged one too, because lots of old imported fic. It's a good fandom if you want space adventure with slash, although I suspect watching canon might disappoint in certain ways. But A+ plotting, SGA authors.

Uh and then there are some evergreens. Zoro Luffy Pirate Husbands 5ever... But hey, Kirk/Spock! Had a bit of a revival for me. Which reminds me I need to show a friend The Undiscovered Country, we've been going through the classic K/S moments

Currently reading: Bad Gays: A Homosexual History by Huw Lemmey &Ben Miller. I almost finished then forgot it in a tote bag but now I found it again. Very entertaining non-fiction about "the complicated, the evil, the ill-reputed and the bad" gays through history. What the book adds to the podcast (well, it also removed their frequently shite sound quality issues, it's terrible in the early eps) is their critique of the white cis male-male thing that goes into the concept of homosexuality and gayness currently, and how this was built up historically. Which really nuances some of their person portrait choices well, but also, it's just a good read.

Last movie: Solo - yes, the Star Wars movie. But earlier this week I watched Twilight 3, lol, which was terrrrible but not as bad as Twilight 1 or 2. It's okay, I had friends and we got mildly drunk

Craving: Fresh baked bread

Do I have nine people on Tumblr to tag after my long "eaten by the black hole of irl" uh.... @carmarthenfan @stephantom @janeeyreofmanderley @minipliny @itsyveinthesky @kira-under-pressure @m-madeleine calling the old crowd, all very voluntary and only if you think it sounds fun I guess/awkward wave/

[gayhoediaz]

Daddy Issues Anon 🙋🏽‍♀️ (I'm here, I would never abandon you ❤️)

2 things:

1) your daddy scale should be put on urban dictionary. none of this "he's got a bit of grey in his beard and he's over 40" shite. you clearly only want someone who has to watch his cholesterol. he's got eyes like his daddy who lived through ww2. you are the only person with daddy rights.

2) no explanation WAS needed because I do not believe in my heart anyone thinks they'd have the filthiest sex of their life with bobby. Chimney's Friend (I can't remember his name forgive me) gives off an aura like he'd fuck you bareback in a alley and you'd get scratches on your back that could give you tetanus.

which brings me to my next question - ideal location for peak daddy times...

(ideal = hottest. what's practicality or legality we do not perceive)

heads up to followers and mutuals: i’m too lazy to add read more links into all of these, but i will always tag them as #nie’s daddy issues so if you don’t want to see me explicitly talking about my own sexual preferences, just mute that tag ❤️

nooo anon the way i’ve thought about the fact that if i fall in love and end up with a man i am going to have to be a that annoying wife that’s like “you’re gonna die before me no matter what, please don’t make it sooner, you eat too much bacon 😭” dear lord.

and hell yeah you get it. bobby is like. too nice. eli is very nice but he gives off the vibe that’s like. as long as you let him fix you up afterwards, he’d do anything you asked him to. like he very much has that vibe that i was talking about in the first post that’s like everything’s gonna be okay. ok so stab me while you’re tugging my hair and telling me you’re about to fill me up, then. you’re a paramedic you know how to do it without killing me, get to it 🔪💦👅🍆

and ohhhh, this is such an intriguing question. i’m absolutely not opposed to “forbidden places” like elevators, cars, alleyways, etc, but i think my absolute ultimate situation is a “boring” place but the situation is forbidden. a couch or an armchair, with someone who is like my boss, or someone’s boss, or somehow connected to someone’s family. just for some reason, we really shouldn’t be. yknow. i will never tire of straddling an older man’s lap for an innocent reason and then giving a little grind and they’re like “yeah, you have to stop that” or whatever and i’m like “stop what? i’m not doing anything? 🥺” and they laugh like yeah right and yeah that’s the good shit. taking it even further and popping a titty out while still playing innocent, that’s fun too. (if we’re starting to get into it and i’m like “you’re getting off on this? perv.” and they hit me with the “whore”???? that’s the good good shit omg.) he can have friends around, too, that’s fine, if i make the choice they can join in, but most of the time i’m just an exhibitionist and like being a trophy no one else can have. 💫

[boywonderasnf]

idk i just need to put this out somewhere so dont mind me im being odd

FIRST OF ALL !!

this is not! at all! on the person who made this specific whump post, its their account and if i dont like what i see, i can scroll away or block a tag. easy peasy.

i scrolled away, and am probably gonna block the whump tag just cause its not really my thing, but i just cant stop thinking about it and how scary that would be if it were my ex holy shite

(for context it was a scenario where the person being whumped(?) was kidnapped with the person who whumps them? idk the words but the first person asks how it feels yada blah then finally the second person says they're gonna get out and k*ll the first person)

anyways maybe this will help me forget about it cause it out in the open or something? idk

[jackstingy]

# JACKSTINGY – an independent, mutuals only, 18+ roleplay blog following the semipiternal woes of a) some nerdy english kid waffling between uni and an internship at the local retirement home and b) the maleficent spirit of a machiavellian drunkard now attempting to permanently possess the body of said nerdy english kid. triggering content such as religious theming + imagery, references to alcohol use + physical violence, and dissociation will make frequent appearances. rules below the read more, though saint peter and satan have one little thing in common and that’s knowing quite thoroughly that the spirit of old stingy jack isn’t reading through shite. 

(you probably should, though. shutting up isn’t quite a part of either of their personal dictionaries, and neither is using parentheses in the manner they were meant to be used.)

THE PLAYER'S HANDBOOK – THE RECORDS IN THE BASEMENT – THE CEALLACH SCRAPBOOK – THE CAT RANDOMIZER

INTERACTING. will not be open to bigots, white-washers, or fetishisers. it will, however, be open to any and all mutuals (which is a status reserved for anyone and everyone who is a cool, respectful, talented writer – id est, you!), regardless of plotting status and whether or not we’ve talked ooc. feel free treat memes as starters, reblog memes and prompts from me instead of the source without sending anything in, delete anything from me that you’re too busy to answer; i’m really just here to have fun and find new people to write with, so as long as you respect my rules and i respect yours, we’re cool.

WRITING. will be tagged with applicable triggers as “trigger tw”, posted using beta editor, and mainly occur in two modes: anxious third person rambling from j.d. and atrocious first person misanthropy from jack with an italicised and bolded transition between them. while my writing may look lengthy, you are in no way obligated to match word count or force replies out quicker than you can handle. basic etiquette applies: no godmodding, no metagaming, and no powerplaying without discussing the parameters of any of these acts beforehand. all this being said, roleplaying is a hobby, and if you ever want to drop a thread or get something a little shorter in your notifications, i am more than willing to oblige you.

SHIPPING. in terms of romance will happen selectively and exclusively with j.d for the foreseeable future, be based on chemistry after a substantial amount of threads and plotting, and in no way be forced on you. i love pre-established relationships of the platonic or hostile kind with reckless disregard for my characters’ established timelines, though, so i’m always open to editing plot points in and out as development happens and stories are made. i’d rather not write smut on this blog, but suggestive content will be tagged as such and fade to blacks may happen.

UNFOLLOWING. will be done with a heads-up through private messages and a softblock on my end unless you’ve stated prior that you’d rather be hard blocked. of course, i don't expect a heads-up from anyone who wishes to unfollow or block me; do what you need to do to keep your corner of the internet comfortable!

FORMATTING. will be minimal, with small text, single spacing, italicised words, and 100x100 static icons. if there is anything you’d like me to change about how i format my posts, please let me know via tumblr ims or discord.

OOC. talk will be attempted! i’m seb, 23, he/him, now kicking it in gmt+11, with ‘it’ being the metaphorical bucket that is writing. i love commenting on posts (i know most of tumblr hates it, but i truly do believe that the reply function was made for me and me alone), sending in asks, and falling to my digital knees at the sheer quality of writing and emotion to be found in this community. i am slightly terrified of returning to indie roleplaying after a long stint in just group rp sectors, but hopefully j.d. and jack can bring some existential fear and festive cheer to you all!