#lately ive been feeling especially shitty

[peachesofteal]

RAAAAAAAAH CHAPTER 13 BRO!!!!!

as always, i read it like a rabid animal, and then reread the prev 4 chapters and then reread this again HAHA

your work ages like fine wine, and i read and treasure every word of it, especially on rereads when i can make myself slow down to really take it all in <3

"He takes it all away. Every time." made me WEEP!!!!! its what she DESERVES!!!! the dependability and the escape into him and simon (simon takes charge obvs, but johnny is just as much an outlet. sweet sweet boy)

i think he also realizes that she's seeing it as escapism and starts to fall away a bit, bc of how he stops her and asks to check in. it makes me curious abt his and simon's early relationship, if he's recognizing the same pattern of behavior and comparing them.

going on with that, when she was showing them her scars, AUUUUUUGH. that hit so hard man. the “No but… they’re hideous.”

“No.” Simon croaks, voice thick. “There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t perfect.”

SIMOOOOOOOON he sees so much of himself in her. its gotta be heartbreaking, knowing she's where he used to be. he gets it fr. i cant imagine two people more suited for her, someone who's been where she is and got out, and the person who's helped get that someone out of that pit. fuck dude. you're so good at this HAHAHA

im not gonna say nothin abt the good girl stuff…. but heehee!

also also "I'm not a little human nurse" made me laugh so hard LMAO pure arizona from grey's. ive been watching it lately (started right before you started posting simple math actually) reading the hospital bits of SM, you do a really good job of capturing the same energy and stakes and work dynamics that you get watching grey's. im honestly still waiting for the other shoe to drop on the stupid attending marshall, there's always something that a shitty attending can mess up down the road lmao

the ending on this chap killed me though. they knew she was flighty, and that she's smart and capable, but its gotta be so hard to get the relief of her coming back after the day out without answering the phone, only to find the papers the next morning. in bunny's defense though, she mentioned in chapters before moving in (i think before graves hurt her?) with them that she had to start looking at outs, and these papers aren't a 2-day turnaround; she probably bought them weeks ago and only now picked them up. i could be wrong though! i think its unfortunate timing, but she also probably just wants the relief knowing that she's got the backup plan accessible. as much as she loves the boys and penny, she's still not used to having the dependability. the safety scares her, or at least gives her the idea of a false sense of security, since she's been on edge for so so long.

i give her big smooch. poor bun. poor boys, and poor penny. manifesting the worst for graves, truly, rot in hell you idiot american

i hope you're feeling better, its lovely to read your works but even better when you're doing well yourself ❤️❤️❤️

I loved reading this! I adore you.

I love how you noticed that Johnny does stop to check in. He has a very firm grip on her mental and emotional state, (it’s not his first rodeo) and he knows just how to bring her back.

The two of them + Bunny is really a dream come true even if she doesn’t realize it yet (they do) and it will take a lot of time and work on everyone’s part.

I think your notes in your last paragraph are pretty spot on, too. Bunny will talk about it more in the next two chapters but- getting a new identity is not a two day turnaround.

Also yeah, I was channeling Arizona with that line 💀 I was hoping someone would catch it!

10/10 I love your breakdowns, no notes, perfection, they always make me smile.

[daydadahlias]

WAIT WHERES MIM?!?! PLEASE TELL ME YOU’LL RELEASE THAT ONE AGAIN PLEASE

I need you guys to understand that the reason I took down my stuff was for my own peace of mind because they're my stories and i started feeling unsafe having them out because of how they - and I - were being treated.

absolutely nothing is wrong with mim and I love that fic and I care so much about it which is why - for my peace of mind - i want it to belong to only me rn. I know the fic was only out a month after i finished it and that really upsets me about taking it down. i want to reupload it because i know people like the fic and i love sharing my stuff but also there's that level of how much the fic matters to me and how much more devastating it makes it when people are cruel. and how much it hurts when I, as the creator of something, am treated like I don't matter at all and that my stuff can so easily be stolen or copied. like, it's an extension of me, yknow? You can't separate content and creator in such a small and intimate sphere as fandom. like, you guys all use my first name when referring to me, yknow?? there's that sense of connection. and since it's such an intimate space, having that trust be betrayed or disrespected is so much more potent than if we were in a large fandom with a lot of creators.

the fear of having MiM copied is really immense and real for me rn and i know that's potentially me being overly paranoid but considering the Amount of times this has started to happen - and how blatantly rude and nasty and entitled readers have been getting with me and other creators over the last year - it's definitely not out of the realm of possibility.

MiM wasn't written for readers, it was written for me. and i shared it because i wanted to and that was wonderful. but to have any of my stuff stepped on so much just doesn't make me feel very safe in this fandom space rn and makes it hard to let people have access to something that matters so much to me.

I'm not saying MiM has been deleted forever, I'm just saying i want some more time for it to be mine.

[useryennefer]

.

[klonoadoortophantomile]

why do people care so much abt other people blocking or unfollowing them who cares

[wabblebees]

.

[gaystardykeco]

anyway maybe ill scriptpost more in the future im just scared ill be like "omg cant believe they cut this line :/" and then everyone will reply saying "they didnt??? thats literally in the show???" and ill be exposed for not having an encyclopedic enough knowledge of succession

[silentsneezes]

ive recently become obsessed with g/ood/ o/mens (especially c/rowley) so here’s a little 2.2k cold fic i wrote!

if anyone is interested in exchanging snzcanons/writing prompts lmk! also my inbox is open if anyone has requests :)

with that said, enjoy! (sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors- i only proofread this once)

Crowley had been having a truly awful day; First, he’d woken up with a splitting headache and a throat like sandpaper.

Then, much to his disapproval, he realized that his newest plant had attracted fruit flies.

After spending a good ten minutes swatting at various flies, he gave up, huffing in resignation and making a mental note to buy fly traps. His throat burned too badly for him to yell at the plant, but he assured it that there would be a punishment.

Eventually, Crowley took to sitting at his desk and glaring at the flies buzzing around, slamming a book on any fly that dared to land on his desk.

And - most annoyingly - Crowley kept sneezing. At first, the demon didn’t mind. A few sneezes here and there weren’t uncommon, but it proved to be more than just a few.

As Crowley was snuffling into his sleeve, the black phone on his desk rang harshly. The demon sniffed deeply and cleared his throat, ignoring the painful burning sensation, “Hello?” he drawled, interally cursing the obvious congestion in his voice.

“Hello dear,” Aziraphale’s voice sounded through the phone, and Crowley grinned; he would always be happy to hear from the angel, regardless of how shitty he might feel, “I was wondering if I could ask for a favor,” he explained, sounding sheepish.

Crowley’s surprise was evident as he replied, but his response was genuine nonetheless, “Of course, always.”

As Crowley answered, he felt a faint burning sensation form in the back of his sinuses. He pressed a finger against his septum, hoping to quell the itch.

“Well you see,” Aziraphale started explaining his predicament- something to do with the way his books were arranged- as the burning sensation moved towards the front of Crowley’s nose, making his nostrils quiver with anticipation.

The demon quickly pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger to squash a sneeze into complete silence, cringing as his vision blurred momentarily. He released his nose, sniffing experimentally and feeling relieved that the single stifle was enough to quell the itch.

“-So I was wondering if you’d like to come to the shop and lend a hand?,” Aziraphale proposed, “I just got the loveliest merlot!”

“Well, I can’t say no to a nice bottle of wine, can I?” Crowley replied, but both he and Aziraphale knew he’d go regardless of whether or not there was wine; as long as his angel was there.

“Splendid!”

Crowley could practically hear Aziraphale’s smile through the phone, “I’ll be there at seven,” he said before fumbling to hang up the phone. He pitched to the side, a sneeze suddenly tearing through him.

“hh’HRRTDSCH!”

He scowled at the spray that landed on his lap, unable to cover in time, “Fugk me,” he groaned.

Crowley glanced at his watch: 5:42. ‘How is it already that late?’ he thought, wondering how many hours he’d spent sitting at his desk in a feverish haze.

He knew that he should start getting ready, but his body seemed to have other ideas. The demon was suddenly all too aware of the way his legs and feet throbbed, even as he sat; his body ached, his nose felt raw, and his head felt like it could explode at any moment.

He groaned, leaning his head against the cool, sleek desk and letting his eyes fall shut. It took everything in him to get up and saunter over to the bathroom.

“hh-,” Crowley’s breath started hitching as he peeled off his shirt, tossing it to the side and tugging off his pants. As he was taking off his boxers, he pitched forwards with a small onslaught of sneezes, “hH’ITSCHH! heHSZCHEW! heh- hh… HRRSCHHh!”

The sneezes left him panting, bent over at the waist with one hand placed on a nearby wall for support. He clambered into the shower, turning it as hot as possible and letting the water run over his face.

The demon rubbed harshly at his nose, which was already red and raw. Much to his dismay, the appendage twitched, nostrils flaring as the itch returned with a vengeance .

“Fu-heh-fuck…hhheH-EHTSHCIEW!”

He cringed at the mess that sprayed against his chest, blowing his nose productively as the steam loosened the congestion in his sinuses.

Luckily, Crowley managed to make it through the rest of the shower without sneezing- which was quite the accomplishment: his colds have always been accompanied with relentless sneezing.

As soon as Crowley stepped out of the shower, he started shivering. He scowled, pulling on a turtleneck and some black pants; he had decided against wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, despite his desire to feel comfortable.

He glanced at his watch again: 6:19

He was in the shower for longer than he’d realized, enjoying the burning heat of the water. Unfortunately, it hadn’t occurred to him that standing in a hot shower for half an hour would only make his fever worse.

He slumped into his seat, rubbing at his temples and removing his glasses. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a nearby mirror and cringed. He was visibly sick, and he was sure Aziraphale would notice. He considered calling the angel and canceling, but that wasn’t truly what he wanted (what he wanted, of course, was his angel).

“heh-hh,” Crowley’s breath hitched wildly as the itch suddenly returned, head rearing back and nostrils flaring, “hhhehHITSCHHh!” He snapped forwards with a powerful, unrestrained sneeze, barely managing to cover in time, “fugk me.”

After tending to his nose and washing his hands, he grabbed the keys to the Bentley.

The drive to the bookstore went by in a feverish haze. It was rather uneventful, except for the few times when the car was jerked into the other lane as Crowley bent double with a sneeze (or two).

It didn’t take long for Crowley to pull up in front of the bookshop, parking in his usual spot and clambering out. His head spun as he stepped out of the Bentley, and he had to lean against its black frame to stay upright.

Once he was sure he could stand on his own, he sauntered towards the bookshop, pushing the door open and hearing the familiar bell ring. He frowned when he realized he couldn’t smell; he’d always loved the smell of the store, though he would never admit that.

“I’m afraid we’re closed this evening,” Aziraphale called out in response to the bell’s chiming.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Crowley made a beeline for the plush red chair in the back of the bookstore.

“Oh! Crowley,” Aziraphale replied fondly, emerging from behind a bookshelf and grinning jovially. His smile faltered as he took in the demon’s appearance: his nose was red and bothered, his cheeks flushed, and his eyebags more prominent than usual.

As Crowley took a seat, Aziraphale busied himself with the tea kettle- Crowley was clearly in no condition for wine.

“So, what am I helping with?” Crowley asked, his voice raw and gravely.

‘Oh right, the favor,’ Aziraphale thought; He’d completely forgotten about his book organizing crisis after realizing Crowley was sick.

“It’s nothing, really. Muriel just had some free time and decided to reorganize all the books by color coordination,” despite Aziraphale’s annoyance, he still spoke of Muriel fondly; after all, they were intending to help.

Crowley laughed, which sparked a rough coughing fit, caught in his elbow, “S’cuse me,” he cleared his throat, feeling Aziraphale’s eyes observing him closely.

“Are you feeling alright, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked hesitantly, not wanting to anger or embarass the demon. In fact, he wanted to do quite the opposite; it was taking every ounce of self control not to wrap Crowley in a blanket and tend to his every need.

But that wasn’t part of their arrangement. They were simply an angel and a demon, occasionally exchanging favors and enjoying fine dining at the ritz. Except their arrangement had changed. Their dinners often turned into late nights full of dancing, talking, and laughing. They both sensed the change, but neither mentioned it, not wanting to burst their perfect bubble.

“Never felt better,” Crowley replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. His statement was undermined as he sniffled wetly, his body determined to betray him.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow questioningly, to which Crowley shrugged. The angel sighed, deciding not to push the topic any further.

“So, are we rearranging or not?” Crowley asked, gesturing to the color coordinated bookshelves- which, admittedly, looked pretty nice.

Aziraphale hesitated. As badly as he wanted to reorganize his books, it was clear that Crowley was in no condition, “No, no I don’t think so. I wouldn’t want to undo Muriel’s hard work,” he excused.

Crowley was too distracted by a blooming itch in his nose to notice the angel’s obvious excuse, “hh,” despite his best efforts to quell the itch, his breath started hitching. Aziraphale nearly cooed, but he restrained himself for Crowley’s sake.

“hUTSCHHhew! hh-H’GNZTCH!”

“Bless you,” Aziraphale blessed him out of habit, a seemingly harmless act.

Crowley cursed, ducking back into his elbow, “hKISCHHh! ITSSCHHew!”

“Oh dear, bl-,” Aziraphale started, but Crowley cut him off, speaking through a desperate hitching breath.

“St-heh-stopheh- hhHTSCHH stop it with the blessings,” Crowley snapped, followed by an immediate pang of guilt at Aziraphale’s expression.

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot about that,” he paused, searching for the right word, “peculiarity of yours.”

He learned early on in their relationship that blessing Crowley simply resulted in more sneezing, but blessing people came so naturally to him, he often did it without thinking.

“It’s alright angel,” Crowley waved a dismissive hand.

“Are you quite sure you’re feeling-,” Aziraphale started, but he was interrupted by the wailing of the tea kettle. Crowley was grateful for the distraction. As Aziraphale turned away to make tea, he used his sleeve to tend to his running nose.

Aziraphale returned a minute later with two cups of tea, smiling warmly as he set one beside Crowley.

“I thought you had a bottle of merlot?” Crowley asked, but he honestly didn’t care: wine would likely make him feel worse.

“Yes, well. We can enjoy that another time,” Aziraphale replied fondly, “But I’m in the mood for tea.”

Crowley rolled his eyes beneath his shades, but he tried the tea nonetheless. It soothed his throat, and he took a second sip, feeling his body relax slightly as the discomfort in his throat lessened.

As he continued drinking his tea, Crowley began to realize how truly miserable he felt; he hadn’t had a cold this bad in ages.

He rushed to set down his tea as a prickling sensation formed in the back of his nose. Aziraphale, noticing his hitching breath, placed a comforting hand on his back. Initially, Crowley tensed under the touch, a low hiss escaping him.

“h’MPDzXt” The stifle grated against his sore throat, and did nothing to please the burning in his sinuses.

Aziraphale rubbed small patterns along Crowley’s back, admiring his somewhat toned physique as his breath continued hitching, “don’t hold them in darling,” he instructed, voice soft.

Crowley whined, rubbing harshly at the itchy appendage. Aziraphale sighed sympathetically, “it’s not going to help if you do it like that.”

“St-heh-stuck,” Crowley managed to say between hitching breaths. It was quite the spectacle: his mouth was ajar, eyebrows knit together, breath hitching, and nose twitching. As sympathetic as Aziraphale was, he also found himself rather attracted to the demon, who seemed entirely helpless as he succumbed to the fit.

“hH-IDZCHUw!-ITSXHHh!”

The double came quickly, bending the demon over into cupped hands.

“heh-hRRSCHHU!”

Crowley was left panting and snuffling into cupped hands, unsure if the fit was truly over.

“You poor thing,” Aziraphale scooted closer to Crowley, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and tucking it into Crowley’s grasp. One of the angel’s hands settled on Crowley’s thigh, an expression of comfort for the sickly demon.

Crowley accepted the handkerchief, cleaning himself up before resting his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight,” Aziraphale prompted, “I can take care of you.”

Crowley hesitated, his instincts told him to go: a demon shouldn’t need to be taken care of. Aziraphale sensed this and quickly corrected, “plus, I could use the company. It would be a favor to me, really.”

Crowley considered this, knowing Aziraphale was just being courteous. After a few seconds, he sighed, “Alright, you win angel. I’ll stay.”

Aziraphale smiled widely, “Splendid. I’ll get us some more tea,” he made to stand, but Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel’s waist, holding him in place.

Aziraphale blushed, “Uhm, Crowley. Would you mind-.”

The demon cuts him off, voice tired and gravely, “Yes, I would.” He tightens his grip around the angel, burying his face in Aziraphale’s neck and letting the fatigue he’d been fighting set in.

“Okay darling,” Aziraphale agreed, settling in and running his fingers through Crowley’s hair.

It didn’t take long for the demon to fall asleep, and eventually, Aziraphale found himself dozing off as well. They stayed curled up on the couch all evening, the angel watching over his sick ‘friend’ carefully.

that’s all for now! i’ll likely write more for the in/effable h/usbands (im more comfortable writing c/rowley as the snzer, but if anyone has prompts with a/ziraphale, i’d be happy to try)

[carlyraejepsans]

So I'm about to ask something that might be personal ? And it deals with some personal baggage that you as someone on the internet might not be interested in hearing about ^^' so you might not want to talk about it as is your right obv !! So uh feel free to tell me to fuck off, but, how did you know you weren't cis?

Ya see, I've been questioning my gender for a while now, and I can't really come up with an answer. I'm a lesbian, that's a pretty big part of my identity, I'm not overly feminine but not masc either, when people refer to me as female I feel super uncomfortable, but I ain't too bothered by some of my body parts, ive daydreamed about switching to they/them pronouns online or masculine pronouns in my native language.... But all of that wouldn't fit with what people might expect of me ? And I'm scared if I actually went through those changes people might think I'm performing a form of queerness I shouldn't be privy to. And the worst part about this is, most of my friends are queer, non binary, trans... Wouldn't they think I'm trying to copy them ? Even though ive had those thoughts long before we met ?

Kinda feel like I'm stuck, and I don't know how to be myself, because myself might not align with how i act or how i seem to be on the outside. idk if you feel the same, but it's especially shitty living in a country with a heavily gendered language you can't escape adjectives forever lmaooo

listen to me. i am holding your face in my hands. nothing and i mean nothing you decide in regards to your gender and/or sexuality will ever be anyone's business but your own. the idea that you can "appropriate" someone else's experience with queerness is a gross bastardization of the discussion on CULTURAL appropriation, which is a false analogy and can devolve into gender essentialism fast.

you have no idea how many trans people (gay people too, but especially trans people) locked themselves in the closet because of that same feeling. of "not beeing privy to those experiences", especially for trans women. i promise, as long as you stop at establishing what a certain label means TO YOU and don't try to decide what it means for other people, then you will never hurt anyone. anyone who says otherwise is a cop.

there are trans men out there who lived as cis lesbians for a very long time, and because that was such a big part of their life, they still think of themselves as such, at least in part. for some it's out of kinship. for some it's out of genuine attachment to the word. same thing with gay men who grew on to become trans women. and trans people in general who still carry their younger selves right by their heart. genderqueers who ended up being cis after all, but who still feel like that period of exploration was crucial in shaping their identity. butch and femme alone, while particularly dear as lesbian identities, encompass all genders and sexualities. wanna know something funny? i throw terms around a lot in english, but if you asked me in italian what my gender identity is, i would say "bisexual". because almost every person in my life who's ever called me bisexual actually meant "nonbinary", or "whatever weird thing those transgendereds got going on lately" (some of them probably meant intersex as well, which just for the record i am not. as far as i know, at least). is it an outdated definition? sure. but unlike the literal italian word for nonbinary, bisexual is actually a neutral noun lol. and after all, my experience with gender does inform my sexuality, just as my sexuality informs my experience with gender. it's not wrong, technically. but if someone somehow assumes I'm a lesbian (which happens a lot lol) i don't usually correct them i just... go with it too, y'know?

anyway, what it sounds like to me is that you're obviously going through a period of questioning your gender and or presentation, which you took notice of, but you also feel some kind of peer pressure or societal expectation from other queer people that is denying you a safe, healthy form of self expression in this new period of your life that you obviously wish for yourself. please, try not to pay it too much mind. try out whatever label or description calls to you. change it without notice if you find something better. and if anyone gives you trouble for it, eat them. good luck buddy.

[munch-o-rama]

Gonna Eat You Alive // pred!K.rupp & prey!P.rofessor P.oopyp.ants

contents/tropes: open-ended story, size difference, fandom vore, fearplay, unwilling prey, m/m vore

word count: 1316

HI i feel so nervous posting this because this is my second ever fic ive posted here but i hope you enjoy!! ^_^

“So, Mr. .. ‘P’, what do you think has brought you to my office this fine evening?” K.rupp said, setting the folder down and eyeing the stout man from behind his desk. The atmosphere was both boring and tense, the principal looking at the science teacher with a strange glare in his eyes. It was like waiting in a dental office as a kid, the waiting room dull as you waited for the awaited for one of the most terrifying moments of your childhood. It was especially worrying with how friendly K.rupp was during the interview. But again, that was an interview, he had to be friendly.

“I’m not exactly sure, actually.” Professor P replied, fidgeting his fingers. The professor expected it to be about G.eorge and H.arold, but that sort of meeting would usually occur while the children were at school, so action against the two boys could be done more quickly. So for this to be right on a Friday, especially during after-school hours, was rather strange and alien to the man.

“Is it about those two boys, G.eorge and H.arold? I know you’re rather.. Cranky.. With them.” He continued, raising an eyebrow at the taller man, before he could yet respond. 

“Not at all,” K.rupp replied, setting his elbows on the dark brown desk and clasping his hands together, his usual shit-eating grin forming on his face. “In fact, this is about you, Mr. P.” 

“What do you mean? I thought I’ve been the best teacher these miserable little brats have had so far!” 

“That’s what I mean. You’re the best, not the worst teacher they’ve had.” The bald man with the shitty toupe said in a weird, growly tone.

Professor P.oopyp.ants blinked for a moment.

“But-” He was cut off by K.rupp rudely interrupting him. 

“No ‘but’s, we need to take care of this now.” He stood up, towering over the small man, his smile wider. The sudden movement caused the other to cower in his seat, arms raising almost instinctively. 

“What do you mean, ‘take care of this now’? Are you gonna fire me, or-”

 “Oh, professor, you really seem to be quite the, uh.. Pressisist?”

“..Pessimist?” 

“Shut up, I don’t need you correcting me! Anywho..” The other man licked his teeth as he looked at him, causing Pippy to have a sinking feeling in his gut as he finally realized why he was looking at him like.. that. Oh shit, he knew where this was going.

“Wait, you’re not going to..” He got out of his seat, backing up away from K.rupp.

“Oh yes I am.” He said, his footsteps loud on the cold, hard tiles of the office as he stepped out from behind the desk.

He had to get away before K.rupp could get him

Immediately, Professor P.oopyp.ants tried running towards the door, but tripped on K.rupp’s foot (Which he just stuck out in front of him suddenly), giving the principal enough time to press a big red button on his desk. Fuck, he forgot about the automatic door closer. The metal ‘armor’ whooshed down in front of the regular wooden door, and as the rest of the parts whirred and clicked together and the bright red light shined from where the window of the door was meant to be, Professor P.oopyp.ants knew it was too late.

Professor P. was trapped between the door and K.rupp, and even if he went to the left, which wasn’t blocked, K.rupp could just go after him and get him. He was just stuck sitting with his knees up and his back to the wall. This shouldn’t be happening, he was an accomplished scientist and inventor! He made something revolutionary and life-changing for all walks of life! He was NOT going to be a snack to some brute, and he didn’t even know if he would let him out or not!

Breathing heavily and putting his back against the wall, he looked up at K.rupp. The glare in his eyes definitely meant he was gonna eat him, he’d seen the same type of look in the eyes of his own old coworkers, who weren't really all that angry, but just wanted a quick meal and luckily there was just a pissy small man in reach. But oh boy. K.rupp had rage firing up behind those dark eyes. It wasn’t like anything he had quite seen before, and it made Professor P. even more scared, especially for his life.

Before he could object or actually do anything, K.rupp snatched his shirt collar, pulling him up closer to the other man’s face. Professor P.oopyp.ants yelped, staring at the gleaming off-white teeth that greeted him as K.rupp smiled widely. It was a sight that he was far more than familiar with, and he hated it. Grunting, he tried kicking at the principal, clawing at his hand with his short fingernails. He really did not want to be eaten, in this moment, in this place, and especially by him.

Unfortunately, his feeble attempts to stop K.rupp were unhelpful, and just encouraged the bigger man to laugh loudly. “Oh, look at you! Do you really think you’re strong enough to stop me?” K.rupp taunted, watching Professor P. squirm in his clutch. His struggling began to thin out as he saw K.rupp’s mouth open.

*GULP!*

The short man felt himself fall into place into the bag-like organ. It was wet, humid, and frankly had a goddamn horrible stench. He couldn’t fully move even if he wanted to, the walls restricted his movement a bit. “YOU BRUTE!” He hollered, squirming. There wasn’t really much response to Professor P.oopypant’s complaint other than a shove from the outside, pushing the walls into him, getting his outfit more damp and ruining his hair. Overwhelming noises surrounded him, making him a bit more anxious on the outside than he already was on the inside, pun not intended.

“Sorry, what was that?” K.rupp said. Professor P. was thrown around a bit as the principal sat down in his chair.

“I SAID-” Another shove. “Are you NOT listening?!”

“Eh, not really. Your voice is kinda muffled in there.”

“I DON’T NEED YOU SMART-MOUTHING ME!” Professor P.oopypants said, huffing, pushing back the walls with his hands. The muscles cringed a little at his touch, but otherwise stretched by a small margin. He was wet, being ignored, and rather pissed off at the moment. Not really a good thing for him in this type of situation. The.. probably ex-teacher was about to raise his voice again when he got shook around a little once more.

He grunted. “Can you STOP moving around?”

“Mr. P, I’m just trying to get comfy, which you should too. I’m getting rather.. *yawn* ..tired from this whole scene..”

The professor panicked a little. Shit, his one way out of here was going to sleep! But Professor P.oopypants couldn’t do much about it, the most he could do was struggle and make K.rupp keep him in there longer. So, he just sat there. Pouting a little, but still giving up. Oh well, maybe K.rupp would let him out when he woke up. He wasn’t at all the best human being in the world, but there had to be some mercy in his actions.

So he got comfy as well, stuck in the gut of someone who was probably going to fire him, who was just sitting with his feet kicked up on the desk. The pulpy walls weren’t the most comfortable. Neither were the fluids that stuck to him and irritated him. But sleeping through whatever might happen if he wasn’t shown mercy to was at least better than being awake when it happened. andd K.rupp was already snoring..

(A/N: HIII AAAAAAAAAAAAA I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE FIC. i pushed this back wayyy 2 many times to count but i ended up finishing it when my wifi gave up 4 the 500th time this week so im hoping bored af Critter was able 2 make a weird little C.U vore fanfic that you liked!! tried my best 2 make them even the slightest bit in character because the fear of not being accurate even in the vore fic scene is terrifying 2 me, but i *think* i did good, especially since i tried imagining it in their voices from the movie.)

[spoopydooblr]

The Ken and Stella pregnancy blurb was so good could you write one where they find out that she’s pregnant?

ive been thinking about this scenario a lot and i cant really decide how i want this to go . . .

i think a year or so after they get married (stella is like 30ish) they start to really do their research and find the best fertility clinic in the city. its been almost 20 years since kendall and rava struggled to get pregnant, but still, he's not feeling optimistic.

stella gets a clean bill of health from the doctor, but ken isn't so lucky. just as he suspected, he was the problem. again.

was it the drugs? he was clean now, but he used so much...could he have ruined his chances forever?

stella assures him that it'll be okay, but she never went through what he had to 20 years ago.

they decide on a couple of treatments. they're both taking shots every day and pills at night and its exhausting. most of the meds go to kendall, but stella has to take some too, just in case.

they begin with intrauterine insemination, which is pretty simple and painless, but stella gets her period two weeks later. its hard on both of them, but especially kendall because he knows it's him, not her.

next they try ivf, which is a lot more complicated and expensive (not that money is an issue). now they both have to do injections and stella goes in for her egg retrieval.

the egg retrieval goes better than expected and they're left with 10. ken's sample has some relatively viable sperm so they pull the trigger and try to make some embryos.

the waiting is by-far the worst part, because deep down kendall knows there's no way those embryos are going to get made with his shitty sperm. he's right, unfortunately, and they're back to square one with zero embryos and ten now-frozen eggs.

kendall suggests a donor, like they did with iverson. stella's heartbroken, but they start to look into other options.

because they have the best doctors, however, they get into a trial for a new drug that increases sperm count and viability. stella is thrilled and insists kendall try it, but it's another injection and he's not super happy about it. nothing has ever worked for him, why now?

it's nice to have a break from more intense treatments, so they agree and kendall marks his torso up with injection pricks again.

three months later, ken and stella are enjoying some time off from surgery and tiny, microscopic cells that control their lives. kendall's in new york for the week, working on some financials for their production company (i imagine them making something rival to waystar and completely taking over the media scene), and stella is holding it down in los angeles, or at least trying to.

it's flu season and she's been to so many fancy parties in the last few weeks, stella is sick as a dog. she's a little worried, but the nausea, vomiting and headaches are typical for the flu, right?

she also chalks her late period up to stress. but it's been at least a few weeks...

the day before kendall is supposed to come home, stella drives herself to the hospital after she can't stop throwing up.

"when did the symptoms start?" the doctor asks.

"a week ago, i think, but ive been feeling kind of off for a while."

"and there's no chance you're pregnant? when was your last period?"

stella's heart skips a beat.

"um, i'm not sure. we're trying, uh, but it's been unsuccessful. my period is really irregular and i've been stressed so--" she trails off. "we've been trying for a couple of years."

"and are you taking medication?"

"i did, but it's not really..." she thinks for a bit. "it's not a uterus issue, it's my husband."

"and what is he taking?"

she tells the doctor about the new medication kendall is taking. "it's only been three months, so we're still hopeful. or at least i am."

"i've heard some great things about that new drug. it's really changing people's lives." the doctor smiles, turning away from stella and writing something down. "i'm going to order some tests, but i think you're fine."

------------------

kendall, obviously, sprints to his jet when stella tells him she's sick. she insists she's fine, but wants him to come home as soon as he can, which stresses him out to no avail.

he bursts through the door four hours later, finding stella reading a magazine on the couch.

"stell!" he says, running towards her.

"hey baby." she hugs him, bringing him down to the couch with her. stella presses her lips to his, but kendall is confused.

"aren't you sick?" he pulls away.

her face breaks into a huge smile. "about that..." stella gets up from the couch and walks to the kitchen.

kendall looks at her quizzically, as she comes back with a piece of paper in her hands.

"i have something to show you." she says, holding the paper close to her.

"okay..." kendall smiles at her, utterly confused.

stella carefully sits next to him on the couch. "here."

kendall recognizes the picture immediately. he used to frame them when rava was pregnant with iverson.

"what is this?" he holds up the ultrasound. it's too good to be true, right? tears prick his eyes.

stella is crying already, and takes his hand. "that's inside of me."

he looks down at the black and white photo again. a fuzzy, bean-looking object sits, next to another, smaller object. he's speechless for the first time in his life.

"what is that?" he whispers, pointing to the smaller object on the page.

stella looks at him, and he really can't read her for once.

"this surprise comes with another surprise." she laughs.

kendall's crying, but he takes another look. "is that..."

"yeah."

"two?" he smiles wide.

"i'm pregnant." she finally says, putting her hands on his cheeks. "baby, we're having twins."

they both burst out into crying giggles, hugging. kendall kisses her all over, stopping at her stomach. it's still pretty flat, but he knows her body so well he swears he can see a tiny bump growing.

THIS WAS SO FUN AND LOVELY TO WRITE I LOVE THEM AND I HOPE U DO TOO

[suyacho]

hi lovelies, i know ive been in and out of here and im really sorry for that🫶🥹 just wanted to make a little post addressing some things going on, not on tumblr bc idk wtf is going on (if theres something going on) ive barely been on dash or didn’t scroll past more than 5 posts before closing it again because im busy. let me put it under readmore bc i’ll probably ramble🥹

anyways hi!! as i stated before i think, i started a new school and i started working, busy life!! now work has me exhausted, both mentally & physically, so i haven’t been on here much not have time nor motivation to write too much which i’m really sorry for, especially considering i promised. i love writing, i really do but i feel like the spark is gone, maybe it’s because i’ve been non stop writing smut (with occasionally fluff here n there) over the past few months? or scrap that maybe even since last kinktober because i didnt finish that on time either🥹 (this is probably why the sparks gone) don’t get me wrong, i love writing smut but when it’s so much it just makes me feel like eh not another smut fic and especially after work i can’t find the energy to write porn, like i’d love me itto all oiled up in bed but writing it?? (LMAO SORYRRHHR) it’s just idk🥹 i guess i feel guilty for posting a kinktober but never even finishing it or giving you guys shitty fics when i owe you guys nothing and this is just supposed to be a fun little thingie, but i wanna give back to you guys with the handful of people who have supported me all the way, from the start or even over a year, i appreciate it sm and want to give back to you guys🫶 i hope you all know i greatly appreciate it so thank you and i’m sorry.

on that note thank god i put a readmore bc i knew id ramble and this post isnt even about writing mainly LAMSOAOSOS

but anyways work yes!! i work 4 days a week which might not seem like much bc i know there are people who work way more but hey, im exhausted and that is valid regardless. i dont like my job which is ok, i picked it myself and know the consequences but the environment also drains me mentally, won’t get into that though!!

and onto school <3 i fucking love my school, my class, everything, i wish it was more than one day a week. but with school and the holidays coming around, it also means something. it means that i slowly gotta make a big choice that will impact my student life after this and will decide if ill be let into the bachelors im going for or not. which means that i really gotta start taking it seriously and work more on my portfolio, which now obviously will be my main focus, leading back to the writing but ill say that in the end!!

mentally i’m not ok, which is ok. we all have our ups and downs but lately it’s been feeling like a lots of downs, a lot of things play a role in that but i won’t be going into detail about that. i’ll be okay one day, i’m still alive and have a roof above my head Alhamdulillah.

all those things together mean one thing, i’ll be uploading less!! (which i’ve barely been doing anyways LMAO) to the two people that expected stuff, sorry </3, to the others i disappointed, i’m sorry </3

i’ll also be less active, or maybe just not at all for a bit but just know that i’ll definitely come back when things have settled down, hopefully with more motivation and more fics <3 life’s moving forward and so am i bit by bit.

i guess this is quite the dramatic way to announce a hiatus but hey it’s 6am and i barely slept and just rambled to my little space <3 but once again, thank you guys for the support and understanding. i just wanted to make a post so you guys know what to expect and all :)

thank you and have a good day/night!

[xxacidbathprincessofdarknessxx]

im getting worse all i can do is use and manipulate people, i dont even know my true intentions anymore. ive been passing it off as me being more confident and feeling safe enough to ask more questions and take more risks in relationships because it makes me happy and i feel good about it but i just always feel like im asking for too much, especially the little things like Oh could you hand me that thing, or Could you check the time for me, Could you refill our water, Do you know where X item is located, etc etc. it makes me feel like im weaponising my incompitence - but im not incompetent, i can in fact do these things myself, i just feel, i dont know, like maybe im including people more when i ask them to help me a bit. lately ive been thinking of people as just extra hands or entertainment and that really scares me - i have to tell myself in my head No these are real people with real feelings i cant just keep asking for things and coming over because my own life is so boring, but its really hard to convince myself.

guy whos convinced hes manipulating his friends and that one day ill snap or theyll realize how shitty i am and ill get what i deserve.

[virginmiri99]

Boni I need advice how do u drive every day... Im still new to driving and lately I've been making mistakes on the road that scare me and make me feel like I'm not going to grow into a good driver because of my brain. How do people get good at driving

SORRY I'M LATE!!! Drive can be really scary--I drive a ram pickup truck which doesn't make the task any easier. When I first started driving I was actually terrified, I didn't want do drive over 20 mph, I didn't want to leave a neighborhood, I didn't want to drive alone... But I slowly got better at it. I won't lie and say even after years I don't make silly mistakes, but some of my tips include:

-obviously number one don't text and drive. Everyone is guilty of this and it can be pretty dangerous since a lot of teens think they're capable of doing both.

-For staying in the lines, I have a trick to measure, but its different on every car so just be aware.

If you line up the end of your car by the wheel, and about 3/4th of the hood, that should be in the lines. It makes it easier to stay in the lines because you don't have to look at your mirrors which requires more head turning.

-Get some round mirrors if you have the funds.

these things are the MVP of driving (especially if you have a pick up) bc they help show you everything in your blindspot. Whenever I merge I ONLY look at the round mirrors tbh. It shows me more.

-If you spin out, let go of the gas and steer in the right direction. I'm only adding this bc I've spun out TWICE in the last two days bc my shitty tire traction. this is good to remember.

-You might hate to hear it, but practice! That what my dad says lol. Ive been driving basically everyday in a city setting since I was 15, and I'm 21 now. It's really about growing confidence in your skills. I was once too frightened to leave my neighborhood while driving, and now I drive on the highway with one hand on the wheel. I know it seems scary, but sometimes a little confidence will help your skills! I know you can do it!!!!

I myself need to keep up the vigilance so this was a wonderful ask to refresh my memory. Don't start to get lazy like me!!! As much as I drive every single day I'm still capable of mistakes, just watch the road and watch your mirrors.