#like just unfettered shit

[automaticstarlightcomputer]

the hbo harley Quinn show is such a flaming pile of steamy dog shit that seeing it in any context or capacity actually makes me angry

[faytelumos]

A grizzled old mercenary/soldier falling absolutely head-over-heels in love with a young reckless do-gooder in a very platonic and parental way.

[gfguren]

a little bit unwell at the thought of an inexperienced katsuki, a little bit older, and a lot a bit lost when you lean in for a kiss for the very first time. you with your cherry chapped lips and those hearts in your eyes, and he's so fucking scared that he's gonna fuck it up that he pushes you away with a hand at your chest and an absolutely mortified look in his eyes.

but you just laugh, in that way of yours that always puts him at ease; light and easy and comforting though he knows he doesn't deserve it. he should be the one comforting you—hell, you probably think he doesn't want you now—but he does, always has for as long as he can remember. and he figures he's supposed to tell you that—it's what he should do in a situation like this, his therapist would tell him—but the words catch in his chest, honesty in his throat like sticky caramel that he just can't seem to cough up.

"sorry," you speak first, and he wants to kick himself for it, "i should have asked."

he doesn't miss the way your feet shuffle, or the small quiver in your smile. you're trying to be considerate of his feelings as if he's not holding yours at arms length. his fingers curl against your collar, thumb brushes the top button of your blouse. there's a far-too-long moment where he just looks at you before he sighs with his entire chest.

"katsuki?" your voice is tentative, sweet. you look so pretty in the yellow porchlight, lovestruck eyes a little teary at the corners. he crumbles at the heart, coils around your finger like a garden snake.

"don't have ta," there's a tremor, a ravine that splits the deep valleys of his voice, "don't have t'ask f'r shit, just,—"

your head tilts, fingertips tracing the veins up his wrist until they can slip past his knuckles, "just?"

he puffs a breath of hot air, goes a little red in the face. "just fuckin'," his unfettered hand tugs impatiently at wily blonde strands. "—just kiss me, alright?"

he feels stupid, downright embarrassed, but you shine like sunlight at daybreak, smile brighter than every star above his head. "can i?"

"what did i just, mmph,"—

—sugar sweet, glossed lips in the flavor of maraschino cherry—you're kissing him, and he's stiff as a board, lost on what to do with himself—where to put his hands, how to kiss you back. "relax katsuki," your nose bumps his, voice lulling his worries to rest, "you're doing fine."

you've figured him out, fingered his exact insecurity and decided you don't mind it at all. typical, he thinks. his lips find yours if only so you don't catch the smile that he can't seem to help. you feel it though, even when his teeth knock clumsily against your own, both hands at your collar now, using it as leverage to draw you closer.

he's rosy at the cheeks, camellia pink up to his ears by the time he pulls away. "was that,"—wrong? bad? embarrassing? he groans, "nevermind."

your forehead rests against his own, gentle, careful palms moving to cradle his face like he's your most treasured and precious belonging. "it was good," of course it was, even if it wasn't. because it's katsuki, and you love him, you love him, you love him.

[bigfatbreak]

In canon, a kwami's power must be used through a human wielding a miraculous, otherwise it'll have unforeseen consequences. So, in your AU, does Imago stealing Marinette's agonies cause any sort of trouble?

honestly the biggest unforeseen consequence is that this dude is around and being himself

no but for real, there should be a hypermassive consequence for a kwami unfettered peeking their head in, but there's not because of shit we'll get into later.

just consider it like this for the time being: now that Marinette is a sage and is capable of communing with the gods, she as a living being can be used as that intermediate conduit for power instead of the miraculous gems. If it was Tikki, for example, using her power raw with sage!Marinette, Mari would be able to access the power of creation or be swayed by it - however, it would put a massive strain on her, as she's not a miraculous but still capable of acting as that pipeline.

The reason Marinette has no ill effects from Imago, however, is because Imago is playing with a catch 22. Their purpose was to take agony away from Marinette, so even the exhaustion of accessing the unfettered power of a god was something he stole from her, so it seems like zero consequences have been had. In truth Imago is now SO tired holy moly and they DO NOT LIKE IT LMAO

[ink-n-shadow]

141 X FLEXIBLE READER HELP (could be nsfw, could be reader just freaking them out with the weird shit flexibility allows)

as soon as i saw this request, i knew it had to be smut 😔

𝜗𝜚 characters: simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, john price, kyle "gaz" garrick (reader is gn with non-descriptive genitalia) 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), degradation (ghost), mentions of bondage (soap), lowkey breeding kink (price), horribly unedited

ghost would definitely see just how flexible you are by fucking you in a full nelson, his beefy arms tucked neatly behind the back of your neck as he fucks his thick cock into your slick hole. he loves the way your calves feel hanging over his forearms, your nails clawing at the tattoos he has there as he forces himself against the soft spot nestled deep in your pelvis. “s’good for me—like a fuckin’ doll,” he would growl in your ear, tongue snaking out to lick a stripe up from your love to the shell of your ear. “can just bend you into any position i want, huh? fuck—watch it go in, watch me fuck you like a slut. that’s it, such a bendy little fuckin’ whore.”

soap, ever the eater he is, likes how flexible you are because it lets him spread your legs as far and wide as they can go, putting you on complete display and giving him unfettered access to your sopping heat. he likes you on your back anyway but that position lets him hold your legs apart with a hand on each ankle, knelt in front of you with his mouth pulling you apart bit by bit. “keep your fuckin’ legs open—don’t make me have to tie them,” his words are muffled against your hole, slurred by the way he keeps his tongue writhing and slipping inside of you. and if you start getting too squirmy for his liking, he’s bringing a heavy palm down against your inner thigh before wrenching your legs apart wider.

price likes to see your flexibility in just how far he can shove your legs up to your chest into the deepest mating press possible, all while drilling deliriously into you. the feeling of your legs draped completely over his shoulders, the heels of your feet thumping against his back with each rut of his hips has his head spinning every single time. “keep y’legs up there, baby. c’mon, i know you’re flexible—there we go, feels better like that, right?” and price won’t fill you up until your ankles are locked behind his neck, his blunt nails digging into the supple flesh of your thigh as he dumps his load into you.

gaz loves standing sex (this is a headcanon i will die by), and his favorite thing to do is to take the leg you usually wrap tightly around his waist and hook it up over his forearm, stretching your hips further apart to push his cock deeper into you. he likes the way it makes your nails dig deeper into the skin of his back, shivers rippling up his spine as the pain only makes his hips move faster. “fuck—does it feel good, sweetheart? should put your leg up on my fuckin’ shoulder, make you squeeze my cock tighter. y’think you’re flexible enough for it?” and standing sex with gaz always ends up with one of your legs up over his shoulder and his teeth buried into the muscle of your calf as he spills inside of you.

[animentality]

complaining about taboo subject matter in fanfiction is wild to me because part of what makes fanfiction so fascinating is the fact that it's unfettered by traditional publishing restraints.

y'all insist that fanfiction is better written than actual published stuff, yet you don't seem to grasp that the reason it's better written is because the authors are being entirely self indulgent.

they're not writing to a fuckin market. they're writing what they want to. they are pouring their heart and pussy into a story that they wrote just for themselves and their friends and anyone else who would love it.

you're out here saying how dare you write dark and tragic shit with abuse and psychological manipulation and unhealthy relationships-

that raw and exposed nerve is what really hits hardest and resonates.

it's what gives fanfiction such a fucking edge.

the fact that you can heap on disgusting sex fantasies and evil, sadomasochistic character dynamics and fucked up relationships, in a way that wouldn't be acceptable when you're trying to sell stories to other people for a good buck.

trad publishing will never ever publish anything close to approaching the unconstrained depravity of a fanfic writer's imagination, and you are blessed to live in the same world as them.

but you act like you're above them?

make your stupid coffee shop au and leave those nasty hoes to me.

they're MY friends, not yours. stay away.

[luveline]

jade i don't know if you're taking requests, this could be something super short if you want it to be! i am just dying to see rockstar!eddie and reader at a halloween party. i think he'd look so dreamy

rockstar eddie forever <3 fem, 1k

cw friendly use of the word harlot, rough kisses mdni

"Nice costume." 

You pick your head up where you've draped yourself across the pouffe and smile when you realise who it is. "Thanks, Munson. Yours is better. Super brave." 

"Fuck off." Eddie, very much not in costume, puts a knee between your thighs and bends over the pouffe and your splayed body, careful not to drive the stake in deeper. "Superglue?" he asks, hitting the stake in your chest lightly before putting his hands behind your head like a net to lift you up. "Come on, you'll give yourself a migraine." 

"My hero," you croon, sitting up at his insistence. "I have fake blood in my bag, if you want to be my slayer. Or I can just give you a hickey." 

"I'm good, sweetheart. Vampire wasn't outlandish enough for you?" 

"You know I don't stop at what's already been done." 

He snorts and drops your hands, not without kindness. "Where have you been?" your bandmate asks, the curls of his hair dark like oil slick in the red lighting. His pale skin is blushed with blood. 

"Around. Waiting for the hiatus to be well and truly over." 

"Well, you got your wish." He bends down to kiss your cheek. "Missed you, babe. Had a nice vacation?" 

"I did! Saw the 'rents, saw the world." 

"Don't tell me you stayed here?" he asks, gesturing to the walls of Jamison's lavish house with disgust. "The point was to get away from each other." 

"I like his company." 

"You let him fuck your brains out," Eddie corrects. 

"Come on, Edward, you know I only have eyes for you." You bring his hand to your lips and kiss the bone of his wrist, leaving behind a dark lipstick print and a more syrupy splodge of fake blood. "Your refusal to commit the sin of interband relationships is bumming me out." 

"Well, we can't have that," he says, knee again between your thighs, unafraid to rough you up a little as his hands get acquainted with the slopes of your cheeks, pressing your skin back to get an unfettered look at your blood-splattered face. "Once I kiss you, that's it. Not turning back." 

You beam. "Holy shit," you say, breathless, chest heaving in your tight corset and eyes like hearts as he smirks at you. "I don't wanna turn back." 

"You really didn't fuck Jamison?" he asks, eyes heady as they pour into yours. It's hard to distinguish the irises of his eyes from his pupils, the dark of them like dimes in the red-light. 

Eddie has a talent for removing the rest of the room. Whenever you're together, on stage, behind a camera, you have eyes for him and only him, and he's known that for a while. This will they won't they flirting has been a fun pregame but you're ready for the climax, the culmination, the bite of his rings digging in as he bites your lip. Your breath hitches as you think it, giving a wordless nod. "Of course I didn't fuck Jamison," you say, fighting to keep your voice smooth, soft. 

"I know," he says, leaning down. 

The wood of your stake aches between your sternum as his chest hits it, digging in, the kiss of a new bruise as his lips inch closer and closer. You can't close your eyes; you don't believe him. He won't really kiss you. 

"What?" he asks, blinking at your still-open eyes in milk confusion. "Don't want me to?" 

"You're stabbing my heart." 

Eddie rolls his eyes, yanking the stake off of your corset with a cropped ripping sound. "You're always so dramatic." 

"There's gonna be a real bruise there, I'll show you–" 

You lose your sentence as he kisses you. You truly aren't expecting it. Here, now? At some lame party in the Hills, where the biggest celebrities are literally him and the lesser known members of Cat's Club? You always thought Eddie would kiss you on stage in a throw of passion, or slammed up against a wall, a tour bus, a hotel bathroom door. This kiss is tame in comparison, though his knee juts between your legs and the grip he has on your face is as biting as you imagined, lines of rings embedding themselves in your soft cheeks, his lips stickied by the glucose blood and your wet lipstick. You grab a handful of his curls and there, as you've always imagined, is the scratch of his teeth as he pulls the flesh of your top lip between them and pulls. 

You're startled as he kisses it better. Dizzied as he sighs into your lips, a sound that feels like praise. You give into the pressure of his kiss and let your lips part under his, heat like nothing you've ever felt passed between you. His nose digs into yours, the bridge sliding hard as he turns his head this way and that, like he's trying to kiss you dumb. 

"Is it the costume?" you ask as he pulls away for breath, wide-eyed, startled and wanting and needing him closer. 

He tugs at your corset strings teasingly. "It's fucking everything. We were on a hiatus for two weeks and the whole time I'm wishing I kissed you before I left. You're gonna let me do it again, right?" 

"Uh, duh." 

Eddie practically rags you up off of the pouffe to the couch just behind it, "Think we can make everybody else leave?" 

"No–" He cuts you off again with a kiss, two rough kisses, a third, hands at your waist and pressing into you hard, lips pressing harder as he wades in, a laugh humming between your lips. White hot delight and the stupid delirium of giving in, no more than four kisses before he's being pulled off of you by the collar. 

"We have one fucking rule," Jeff says, Jamison with a handful of Eddie's shirt at his side having broken through the partygoers. 

You smile lazily and lay back in the couch cushions, a picture of ardency, fake blood smeared by kisses across your face and up one cheek, your corset ripped.

"Fucking look at her, man, what was I supposed to do? I'm but a mere human," Eddie says. He's whining, but he's grinning at you like he usually does when you conspire against the others, like you're his very favourite person on earth. "Fuck. Let me at 'er." 

You laugh more at his ridiculous overplay. Gareth stomps on his foot as Jamison chucks a pillow at your chest. 

"Harlot. You're a fucking siren." 

"I really don't get why you're all so mad," you say, delighted at finally having gotten what you wanted. 

Eddie winks at you. "Jealousy, babe. S'all it is. Jamie, man, unhand me. Me and Y/N have unfinished business. She has a bruise she wants to show me." 

"I'm sure she does. Idiots." 

[dhampling]

Your fics/headcanons give me the feeling of eating freshly baked cookies with warm milk while wrapped in a blanket fresh from the dryer. Just so sweet and comforting. Your post the other day about the number of kiddos he'd want got me wondering: how would astarion handle his partner being in labor? I feel like he would be freaking out so badly internally but trying so hard to keep it together for them. Does it get easier with each baby? Does he cry each time? Also, I had this image in my mind of him introducing the older girls to their new baby sister each time and just being sweet and cute with his growing family and I'm dyinngggg. Thank you again so much for all the wonderful fics sorry this message was kinda all over the place I LOVE YOU. ❤️

hello my sweet angel!!! firstly - you inspired me. I'm inspired. i wrote something based on the introducing the siblings idea. see below!

He’s not sure he’ll ever tire of it.

Feign exasperation, absolutely. Roll his eyes in jest, move things along with the smallest ‘away, away’ of his free hand at the faces pressed against the inside of the kitchen window as you both approach the house in a beleaguered stumble - snout noses and wide grins, breath fogging the glass trying to gain a glimpse. Incredulously sigh at the fact that it’s just a baby.

It looks like a baby. Sounds like a baby. Smells like a baby. The house tends to have at least one kicking about at any given time, gods; there’s absolutely nothing unfamiliar nor noteworthy about a baby dhampir in Baldur’s Gate at this point. If anything, he’d be surprised if the townsfolk weren’t banging down his door come morning with a council-endorsed petition to encourage him to stop breeding the little shits.

Frenetic. He’s still practically vibrating with adrenaline from the birth still. Shaky hands stilled under the weight of the baby basket. Legs flying.

Another girl, obviously. Another ‘A’ name conjured from the recesses of his ancient wisdom. Some variation of a label he saw in an apothecary a week ago - you’re past the point of putting too much thought into their names, a fact that becomes obvious to anyone who lends it too much of a thought.

Apothecary. He ponders the viability of that one. Apothecaria? Apothe. Antiseptic. Asbestos. Arugula.

Fuzzy as the door swings open into the night and the stew-warmth of the kitchen bleeds outside. He holds the door, the carrier containing the baby; hospital bags strapped to his back, the weight of another little thing on his conscience. A pack mule. He pulls a face.

The eldest steps from the sitting room through the parted gaggle of waiting Ancuníns and takes a look at the new addition.

A brief moment passes.

Then she smiles as anticipated, nodding her approval - a time-honoured tradition in your household ever since the second was unleashed unto her sister - before falling to the back of the crowd, pulling out a chair for an exhausted you; and resigning from her primary carer duties for the evening.

It’s bittersweet. At this point, Astarion can never be sure if this time, the whole bustling through the doorway in the middle of the night with a newborn thing; will be the last.

But as each previous youngling steps in line to greet the newest addition to their chaotic sisterhood, he finds himself looking over to you fondly. The way your hand still rests atop the round of your belly, the other supporting your head as your elbow rests firm on the table. Cheeks aflush, lids drooping closed with each breath; and yet you sit there instead of retiring straight to bed to watch them.

Their eager faces, hushed whispers; fingers poking and prodding the small exhausted thing presented to them once more. Rolling her name around their mouths to get used to the sound. You watch each movement with a warm heart and dopey grin.

Obviously you want this again. He wants this again. This moment of soft whispers and unfettered love amongst siblings.

No, he resolves;-

this won’t be the end.

-

i LOVED THAT SO MUCH. THANK YOU.

with regard to the labour:

astarion cries with the first two babies.

after that, he realises it's probably more important to be supportive to his partner at this moment in time.

he can compartmentalise any emotions he's having with the logic that they can wait, honestly.

none of his worst fears are going to materialise, he knows this now. he's done it before.

with the later babies he's a pro.

he even has the nerve to sit there and exclaim at points that he's bored, and that you need to hurry home as he has a client coming to the shop later.

despite both knowing it's a jest, this always earns him a pillow to the face.

THANK YOU NONNIE!!! I LOVE YOU!

[sufrimientilia]

The Director

humiliation | dehumanization | conditioning @augusnippets Day 16

cw: medical/lab setting, subject whumpee, captivity, see above

The operating theater was dim and quiet, free of machines and stainless metal trays and the buzz of nurses poking at every part of him. Maybe that was a good sign.

Although the observation deck overhead was dimly lit up as well. That definitely wasn’t.

He had been forced into some cushy padded chair. The researcher fussing over him was a vaguely familiar and unwelcome face by now, and most of the time she didn’t even bother speaking directly to him. “Director. I have been looking forward to showing you the progress we’ve made with this study. I think you’ll be… quite impressed.”

She was squeaky today, talking up to one big reflective wall. Like she had something to prove.

He pulled at his restraints. “Really chose your star student for this one, huh?”

“You’re aware of my efforts to achieve a state of neuroplasticity for our behavioral conditioning program,” the researcher continued unfettered, propping a halo-shaped machine right over his head. “Through exhaustive trials, I’ve finally achieved an inducible state of docility and submission. Each brain reacts so differently, but we are particularly proud of Subject 3B-167. He has taken to the induction very well.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” He started fighting even harder. The padded cuffs always had such a distinct way of cutting into his wrists and ankles, raw and ragged even under layers of gauze. “I haven’t taken to shit! All you do is drug me and cut me open and act like a fuckin’ cu—”

The machine gave one shrill little tone and lit up with a ring of blue light. Every part of him locked up like it was electricity, a single lightning strike through every muscle, clenching and stretching his skin gaunt. It lasted only as long as the beep, and then he just went slack— limp and lifeless, eyes glazed, mouth dropping open under the blue haze.

“Initial findings are promising: we’re seeing a consistent reduction in resistance, with the subject entering a compliant state in under three seconds.” She flicked her fingers in front of his eyes. He didn’t even twitch. “His reactivity varies, but most cognitive faculties are effectively shut down.”

She flicked off the blue light. The subject jerked and shuddered hard, blinking like it was just an odd muscle spasm. And then he kept on fighting without skipping another beat, not realizing the gap in his efforts. “—cunt! You stupid cunt! What are you trying to—ghh-”

The light flicked on and he slumped under its glow. She pushed his head back against the headrest. “I’ve tested this across various states of consciousness, but the results are especially intriguing when the subject is under duress. It seems the stress amplifies the effectiveness of the trigger. We can achieve total behavioral suppression.”

She dimmed the light until it turned off. This time he took longer to snap out of it, blinking hard before pulling in a sharp breath. He exchanged her observant stare with a confused one before finally lifting his head. He looked around. “What… What the hell’s going on?”

“Repeated therapies make the subject highly suggestible and seems to affect memory retention. He doesn’t even remember most of the procedures.” She sounded amused here. “Each reset wipes the slate clean.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, lady?”

The blue ring. His pupils blew wide. His neck kept landing at an uncomfortable, awkward angle, and the researcher shoved his head back before he could drool all over himself. “His defiance is only a facade now. Gone in an instant.”

When the light shut off, it took a long moment for him to regain his bearings. His brow hardened— frustration, maybe, like everything was too slow to follow. “Why ‘m I…” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He glared up at the researcher. “Just get it over with or lemme go, why are y—”

The blue light flicked on. Every part of him surrendered to the misty glow, eyes rolling upwards to give the halo a blank stare. “It feels good to obey,” the researcher said, following the same compliance protocols. “Resistance fades; obedience remains.”

Next time the light turned off, he barely woke up. He stayed slumped against the padded chair, dazed and confused, blinking owlishly at the dark ring hovering above him. “What ‘re you… doing…”

“Subject 3B-167. Follow my finger closely.” His gaze tracked a slow horizontal. Up and down. “Very good. Noted for compliance.”

“Wha’?” He weakly pulled at the restraints. “Mm not, n’no…”

A twilight haze of blue. His gaze roamed along the arc of it, enraptured and lost, paralyzed all over by the usual mantras. A subject’s identity is in their obedience. Obedience is his natural state. He exists to obey. Obey, obey, obey.

Eventually, the light dimmed all the way and the subject was still a drooling mess. He didn’t snap out of it, not even with enough prodding and pushing. He just mumbled out an incoherent string of sound and stared at the empty ring.

“From here we would move on to hypnotic conditioning. I find the subjects tend to be incredibly receptive in this state,” the researcher said, standing proudly next to her mindless subject like he was some pretty prototype. “My next phase will involve refining the protocols to ensure long-term compliance without the need for constant reinforcement. It will take time, but we're on a good track."

The microphone from the other side of the glass finally sparked to life, and it was with the greatest approval to be had from The Director: “Keep going. I want to see more.”

[dustykneed]

OKAY YALL. jim totally has movie nights/show watching nights with bones and spock (jim's captain's quarters have this big retractable screen meant for conference calls or viewing ship logs but obviously it also effectively doubles as a giant tv screen!!) and it basically turns into sleepover night where they have fun doing the fun kiddy shit they deserve (after bones and jim nearly started brawling after jim wiped the floor at monopoly via "underhanded GODDAMN tactics" according to bones, spock has made a note never to attempt to bring up monopoly on movie nights EVER AGAIN)

but also consider: pre-slash spones watching a show and arguing about favourite characters ("Your parameters for selecting a 'favourite character' are most illogical, Doctor." "Favouritism is favouritism, Spock! I couldn't give a rat's ass about goddamned logic!") but agreeing that their favourite chars would make a great couple ("It would be illogical to deny the high compatibility of these characters. One might be inclined to infer that their opposing characteristics may in fact be complementary and hence conducive to an optimal relationship." "By God, just say that ya think they look good together, Spock!") EXCEPT THEIR FAVOURITE CHARACTERS ARE BASICALLY THEMSELVES RESPECTIVELY lmao

jim is sitting next to them on the couch watching them argue shaking his head like it is So obvious ya doofuses GET TOGETHER ALREADY

until this new character (extremely jim-coded) is introduced in the next season who has shockingly intense chemistry with each of the bones/spock coded chars individually. Which starts a whole ship war between bones and spock, who, ironically, ship the other's character with the new one, and go ham on trying to prove (quoting scenes, acting choices, prop choices, even theorising about behind-the-scenes agendas) that they're right about their ship. jim thinks it's absolutely fucking hilarious seeing his best friends come extremely close to duking it the fuck out on his couch over FICTIONAL CHARACTERS, GUYS, COME ON. all the while bones and spock are losing their fucking minds because occasionally their own favourite characters will have Moments and they'll go insane trying to figure out which ship is definitively endgame. they have a bet going that whoever has their ship sunk will have to hand over a quarter of their lab time to the victor and act as assistant while the other uses the time to work on their own experiments.

jim thinks it's the funniest thing he's ever seen- UNTIL ON THE LAST EPISODE OF THE SEASON ALL THREE CHARACTERS GET TOGETHER. jim (who has Known how much the character dynamics reflected the triumvirate themselves all along) is completely fucking speechless and has a huuuuge epiphany about his own feelings for spock and bones. meanwhile bones (speechless with pure unfettered rage both at the fact that technically he was wrong but also HOW COULD HE NOT HAVE SEEN THIS BEFORE???) and spock (kicking himself mentally for not having considered this possibility previously) are about to argue (all while jim is spiralling lmfao) when the bones-coded character says something like "huh. I guess we were so focused on trying to pair up that we forgot we worked best together as a trio." and bones starts to Get It, and then spock also starts to Get It, and they turn to jim, who gets that they Get It, and begins to giggle hysterically, and it is so contagious that bones starts to die of laughter and even spock cracks a chuckle.

Later, when they're all lying in jim's giant bed sleepy and happy and satisfied, cuddled together and cozy as hell, jim tells them that he's sorta known they (spones) would get together like in the show all along but he doesn't know how he didn't figure out where he came into the equation until now when it was so obvious!! and bones tells him he thinks he had always loved jim and spock but for some reason it took months and months of ship wars to see it (lol) which he's definitely glad for despite the high blood pressure every time he and spock would argue. and spock presses a kiss to the corner of jim's mouth and two fingers to bones' own, and whispers that for once, he agrees fully with leonard on the matters of their new favourite ship. jim doesn't think he's ever grinned that wide in his entire fucking life.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 58)

When N went in to work that Monday morning, his nerves were barely contained underneath his casing. Containing his excitement was difficult, he wanted to tell everyone. He was so ecstatic, Uzi was carrying living proof of how much he loved her. Something that should have been impossible made somehow possible.

Their coding shouldn't have been compatible… but it was, somehow.

His smile was unbreakable, not when he got sent to deal with a brawl in the market, not when he chased a thief and had to tackle them to the ground. And not when he spent three hours doing paperwork at his desk, even as some of the words blended together in his head.

“What's got ya so smiley? Thought you'd be worried after what happened.” Hal had been walking by, a steaming mug of gasoline clenched in his fist as he leaned on N's desk.

Right, Doll. Uzi had explained what happened to him, being cornered, fighting to the best of her ability and Tera, his brave, firecracker of a daughter confronted her and made her stop. Knowing that V killed her parents… maybe attacking Uzi when she had their daughter was too much of a hypocrisy.

That worry was in the back of his head… but for now eclipsed by the unfettered joy that came with knowing that his family was expanding.

“Uh- Just, something at home Hal.” Not telling anyone was rough on him. But Uzi had wanted to keep it between them for now, at least until she did more research and knew a bit more.

“And ya aren't going to share? That's not like you.” Hal pointed out, a half smirk on his face. N gave him a sheepish smile in return.

“Sorry, not this time.”

Uzi meanwhile was sitting on the couch with her laptop in her lap, jotting down notes in a little notebook with Tera playing with her bat toy next to her, making squeaks and chirps.

She was researching, scouring internet forums, medical websites, old video hosting webpages. Anything that held any relevant information for her. She was familiar with typical drone pregnancies, 5 months was the typical length, enough time for the babies code to become independent enough to be separated, then transfered to a pillbaby body. Aside from minor side effects, there were no physical changes in the host drone during the pregnancy, and the ‘birth’ relatively painless.

She wasn't quite so familiar with organic pregnancies, and figured her limited, horror movie taught experience was likely to be inaccurate or exaggerated.

She was both happy, and unhappy, that she did.

She started with a video describing first month symptoms, how to deal with them, and any complications that would arise. She was still hoping that her body was mearly reacting as if she was going through physical changes, and that hers would be a normal, painless process.

She was never one to hope for the best and not prepare for the worst however. And this information would be helpful going forward, just in case.

Morning sickness was the first symptom listed, something she was definitely familiar with. She still felt woosy from waking up that morning, and had thrown up twice. Unfortunately, the best answer she'd gotten for a fix was ‘wait it out, it'll subside later in the pregnancy’. Which was something she didn't want to hear honestly.

The next, mood swings. Which hadn't hit her too hard at the moment, but may have contributed to her recent fascination with rom-coms and other sappy shit. Nothing she could do about that either, humans had hormones that dictated that, and unfortunately her dumbass programing had simulated ones.

Cravings and weight gain were the next two, which was something that actually had a solution to, ‘Cravings are usually a result of the bodies lack of a certain nutrient required for the development of the baby. Listen to your body.’ Was the advice the article had given.

She'd love to listen to her body, but she didn't have a clue on what it wanted, She'd tried every snack known to drone and even ones she previously didn't like, but nothing was killing the hunger that had only grown stronger. The only two things that even helped a little bit was oil, and the silicone chips N had bought her the night before.

Her mouth watered a little bit at the thought of that, the hardened silicone breaking between her fangs, mixed with the thick sweetness of the oil she'd drunk, it had been the perfect combo, enough to calm down the hunger pains in her stomach. Almost.

“Ow!” She winced as she realized she'd stuck a finger in her mouth and bitten down, her fang peircing a hole through the white silicon pad on her finger, a small amount of oil seeped out, so she just stuck it back into her mouth until it stopped bleeding.

That was odd…

She shook it off and kept researching, skipping to how birth was, just to calm her nerves on how that was like, surely it was ar least somewhat similar to drones. Right?

She clicked on a video, the scene set in a hospital setting as a narrator drabbled on with how human babies were made, it was… interesting in it's own right. And made her realize just how similar DNA and code really was. Just 1s and 0s written and read in different ways.

It wasn't until the human woman laying on the table screamed like she was being murdered that her concerns returned. She was drenched in sweat, a man at her side holding her hand that she could only assume was her partner.

Her mind provided her an image of her lying there, N holding her hand, wiping the sweat from her brow. And she smiled a little bit before it fell off her face entirely within the next few minutes.

The woman's stomach was distended, and with every scream Uzi's disgust grew, doctors flurried around her so quickly that even she was starting to feel dizzy.

Oh

Oh…

Fear prickled on the back of her neck, this wasn't painless. This wasn't painless at all. Humans had to endure hours of agonizing pain as they pushed out a baby the size of a watermelon out of a hole the size of a pea.

And their bodies were made for that, albeit, evolution had fucked them over, giving them a reproductive system designed to be agonizing, but their bodies were made to be that way, to stretch and accommodate despite the pain.

She was made out of metal and silicone, and while some area's of the silicone were malleable, like her face and her fingers, most of it was hard and stiff, no room to give, no room to accommodate.

She wasn't made for… that.

So that fear was back in full force, if she was pregnant, like… the human way and not the vastly superior drone way. Then how was this going to work at all? She touched her midsection gently, as if she'd hurt herself if she pushed too hard.

She tried to think back to what N said, while having the solver was a pain and scary more often then not, it hadn't straight up tried to kill her, if anything it was doing it's best to keep her alive. So… would her body figure something out? It would have to, wouldn't it?

She sighed, stopping her spiral.

They knew nothing yet, no need to get hung up on something she may not have to worry about. So she moved on, heading into the next part of her research and scribbling down everything she'd learned, just in case.

She was focused on her research, looking up symptoms, how to deal with them, and what she should expect going forward. Knowing was far less scary then not knowing.

Then she heard a noise and looked over, Tera was hunched over the side of the couch, coughing. Uzi put her laptop to the side, hand on her daughters back.

“Tera?” She asked gently, and it only took another second for the toddler to heave. And then completely upchuck her recent feeding all over the floor, covering it with black.

“Tera!” Uzi lifted her head up, worried. Tera looked… fine. If slightly upset. She held herself as if she was in discomfort, and her eyelights were strained.

Toddlers getting sick out of nowhere was admiditly pretty normal, though a little unexpected, Uzi still picked her up and held her.

“Aw… Tera, let's clean this up, you're okay.” She wasn't mad, well… maybe a little upset that there was now oil everywhere, but if she could relate to anything it would be feeling nauseous. Still, chances were Tera was just overfed, nothing to freak out over.

Tera made a grumbling noise and curled into her mom, and Uzi sighed. Soon, no matter how it happened, she would be dealing with double trouble.

Next ->

[indouloureux]

thinking about steve taking his gf on a picnic date to a meadow in late spring, she’s wearing the prettiest sundress, her feet in his lap while she reads a book and he just can’t help but wanna put his head between her thighs and keep makin her cum on his tongue, hearing her make the prettiest noises in the middle of nature <3

thank you for requesting! 🤍

18+ mdni. cw: oral (f receiving), cum eating, tongue fucking, public sex (uncaught). fem!reader

the sun is up high and bright, gilded against the blue sky and the thick, white clouds. birds chirp, trees swishing against each other in the warm summer breeze; the leaves are vibrant in its lushness, and the grass tickle your bare thighs.

although, maybe that's just steve's hair.

buried between your legs, your dress curled up above your belly. you're lucky he found a spot away from everyone else, the tranquil desolation quick to appease your malign anxiety. you thought flower picking and book reading was enough to relax you, especially with his company as he twirled vines over one another to make his make-shift crown.

fortunately, he has different plans.

his tongue starts from your fluttering hole up to your gummy button, throbbing above his thick muscle when he wraps his lips around your clit. you mewl softly, dropping the book down to the blanket to tug on his hair, causing him to moan against your dripping heat.

steve groans. "you taste so fucking sweet, baby. so fucking delicious,"

you flush when he slurps loudly at your still gushing arousal, leaking down his tongue, your slick smeared across his chin and blushing cheeks. steve locks his arms around your thighs and presses his hands down when your hips raise, thighs shaking around his head.

"fuck, stevie," his flower crown's gone askew, purple daisies lost behind his tresses. ecstasy rolls down, a shiver travelling with, your heels hooking around the bottom of his spine. steve sticks his tongue out, lapping up at your folds like he's a starved man. "oh my god- fuck- shit, please,"

he chuckles derisively against your cunt, his hands unhooking from you so that they'd push up at your thighs, until they press against your chest. steve smiles between your legs, lips puffy and shiny. you can't help but lean up and kiss him with an open mouth, tongue venturing his mouth to taste yourself.

delectable.

steve takes your hands in his, lacing them together before he dives back down. you moan a bit louder because you can, and because you can't help it. your cunt clenches when he suckles wickedly at your throbbing bud. it takes a choked sob from you, his fingers trapped between your unyielding grip.

your mewls are that of a mellow preeminence of bliss, tears on the corner of your eyes its breathtaking pleasure. steve moves his tongue down to prod its curled tip at your entrance, until he finally pushes it in.

the tickling feeling makes your toes curl, clamping down on his tongue unfettered. he shakes his head, his nose grinding against your blushing clit. you sob louder, can't decide between throwing your head back in the heat of the ecstasy, or watch him go down at you like you're his last meal.

you choose the latter; besides, his darkened eyes are hypnotizing. keep your eyes on me.

steve's hypnotizing. the pretty flowers on the brown meadow on top of his head, his freckles and his charming lust-driven eyes that makes you stir-crazy.

he keeps fucking his tongue into you, speed mimicking the way his cock would dive into your pretty pussy whenever he'd make love to you. he moans at your taste, feeling himself grow painfully harder at every whimper you made. he curls his tongue, pushes it in until he can't breathe anymore.

but thank fuck he'd been a lifeguard for three years, right? (and a co-captain on the swim team. he doesn't want to brag) (he does)

a grandiose moan flitters through your slack jaw. with his incessant tongue-fucking, your orgasm brinks up to the side, twisting the coil painfully at your lower stomach. you're almost yelling with your loud moans, hands into a fist on top of his.

and you cum without warning, lavishing down his tongue. you deplete alabaster liquid on his tongue, his groans matching yours as he lets it fall down his throat. he unclasps his hands from yours, giving one last lick at your folds like he's scooping your cum into his mouth before he stands back on his knees, wiping the back of his mouth.

"shit, baby," he runs his hand through his hair, helping you roll your dress down. "you always make the prettiest noise when you cum, don't you?"

"can't help it, you whore," you press your knee on his side when he leans down to kiss you. "we should do this more often."

"what? fucking outside?" his nose scrunches. "yeah, definitely. let those people here your hot moans, eh?"

[sitp-recs]

Hello again! Thank you for your recommendations, I really liked several of them.

I wanted to tell you that I recently read Away Childish Things by Lettered and I loved it. This left me wondering, do you know of other drarrys who talk about the mistreatment Harry suffered under the Dursleys? I think it's very interesting to see the consequences of childhood abuse growing up and how someone (Draco in this case) can help heal that.

Hello friend! Happy to hear you’ve enjoyed the recs. Ahh yes, ACT is so uniquely cathartic - I still remember the awe I felt reading it for the first time, the emotional depth and character development are top notch. I can think of a few fics touching on Harry’s abusive childhood:

Timeshare by astolat (M, 14k)

“It’s not for long,” Hermione said. “By the time we get back to Hogwarts, the Unfettering Brew will be ready.”“Listen to you!” Ron said. “He’s got to get through a month with the Dursleys and a month at Malfoy Manor. With Draco Malfoy.”

Conquering the Dark by noeon (E, 24k)

Harry's a Healer specialising in the care of children, Draco Malfoy's an expert in neuromagic at St Mungo's. A difficult case forces them to work together and, in the process, unearths some of the trauma of the past, as well as the chance for healing in the present.

The Elusive Mate by 0idontknow0 (E, 26k)

Harry had done it (a) to save lives and (b) because the idea of him being Malfoy’s mate was clearly ridiculous, but now he had to tell Malfoy.

He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)

Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.

A Piercing Comfort by talithan (T, 44k)

When Harry Potter hits the lowest point of his life so far, it is not his friends who keep him honest. With Draco Malfoy's patience and guidance, Harry learns to stand on his own. The thing is, after the fact—he's no longer sure he wants to.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, 70k)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always.

Harry Potter and the elusive day off by pleasebekidding (E, 71k)

Auror Potter needs a fucking break. He is wiped. He is exhausted. He probably didn't intend to put himself into a magical coma but these things happen. And who cares, really? He is comfortable in a house where he has hidden away all the shit he can't deal with.

The Ordeal of Being Known by @lou-isfake (M, 146k)

When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there's unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions.

[fandomflotilla]

Weiss: …hello Bane of my Existence.

Jaune: Hello, Snow Angel.

Weiss: I thought we hated each other now? Why the “Snow Angel”?

Jaune: Oh, cause before I was saying it out of affection.

Jaune: Now I do it because it annoys you. :D

Weiss: *sigh* Yeah I suppose that makes sense-

Weiss: …

Weiss: Wait…you KNEW I hated that fucking nickname?!?!?!

Jaune: Uh, yeah? Duh? You kinda froze me like 4 times because I said it. I’m not that stupid.

Weiss: And yet you STILL called me it while you were trying to court me?!?!? Even for you that’s idiotic. Why would you-

Jaune: You’re cute when you’re angry.

Weiss: *blushes* I-wha-huh?????

Weiss: You think…I’m cute…when I’m angry…

Jaune: Well, yeah…

Weiss: Okay that is a bit sweet-

Jaune: …when you’re mad you’re like a chihuahua on cocaine, just pure unfettered rage in a pint sized package that’s fun to watch spaz out a bit while it tries to bite your toes before it passes out.

Weiss: …

Weiss: …you know what, maybe a fifth time freezing you to the floor might teach you some manners.

Jaune: Oh shit.

Weiss: Get back here!!!!

[uraniumbones]

HOLD the phone. Hawks was trained (and essentially owned) by the hpsc since young childhood. Who taught him sex ed? Does he know algebra? Did he have to take even a single history class? How much basic shit does he not know? Like I'm thinking about it now, they certainly didn't let him have unfettered internet access. Just how sheltered is he? And how much of his knowledge about the world is just like propaganda. These are the hard hitting questions we need answers! And honestly I feel the answers have crazy ramifications like depending on the answers that's gonna recontextualize a shit ton of stuff.

[truly-a-snitch]

hi!! I just found your blog, and honestly love this already..and I really wanna request! So it is alright if I do? And if I could be called 🧸Anon?

so my request is reader who is super blunt..like will say anything that comes to mind about someone (good or bad) and won’t stop unless pulled away from the scene? And they are super judgmental, doesn’t even try and hide it. Reader will side eye everyone and everything? I was hoping for Dazai, Ranpo, chuuya, and kunikida if that’s alright with you!

reader is so mepilled lowk. hi 🧸 anon !!

WARNINGS: none i dont think :3

---

dazai, ranpo, chuuya, and kunikida with a blunt, judgemental s/o

dazai

he thinks its entertaining as hell watching you just speak your mind

like. you straight up have no filter and he loves it

because hes so used to everybody darting around their feelings, acting all nice when he can see in their body language that theyre actually not so cool

but then you came along and you werent like that at all. you just... say what you think. he fucks w that

loves talking shit w you so much. second favorite pasttime other than purposely getting on ppls nerves

unfortunately he does have to pull you away from people, especially because a lot of the people he associates with (or runs into) are. yknow. mafia members.

when its safe to do so, however, he indulges you. he loves to sit with you and just talk about your opinions of other people

over meals especially is his favorite !! he sits next to you on the couch with a takeout container of crab fried rice and listening to you mindlessly bitch about people because they had bad vibes

100% the type to be like nodding along and reacting like "oh shit really ? he said that ? whatd you do. did you hit him with your car ?" ("no") "you should leak his credit card info on reddit"

hes an agent and harbinger of passive chaos what can i say

ranpo

you're literally just like him, if a bit more unfettered. you don't have the same bonds that he does

another fan of your shittalking, he thinks its interesting that you speak your mind !

he loves egging you on especially

ranpo is very similar to dazai in this manner, he likes to lay his head in your lap and play video games while you read the people around you to filth

however where dazai is just sort of There while youre doing it, ranpo actively contributes

he lowk has the best side-eye. like somebody says something sketch and hes just like staring

ranpo cant help but stare at you when ur talking shit which is sort of weird but hes seriously like yes read them to filth honey

he helps you get better at reading people too !!

also he likes that he can get rid of his filter with you and just spitball his thoughts :3 not that he has much of a filter as it is but still

if you get to be too much out in public, he will drag you away from the situation though, if only because hes prioritizing your safety

chuuya

okay. it is very important to remember that chuuya loves you very much.

HOWEVER comma. your little stream of consciousness habit sometimes does grate on him

when it doesn't though. and even when it does actually he does NOT stop you

hes standing there next to you watching the whole situation ready to defend you if somebody tries to get physical (epitome of "say what you want babe i can fight")

he doesnt partake in it himself, but he never stops you. (he supports your rights AND wrongs)

chuuya does like when you talk about dazai though

only if its bad stuff. and only if he gets to talk shit with you

he also has a really good side eye. he doesnt let himself get upset enough to start talking because hes not very good at controlling his volume when he gets mad

if you get yourself in over your head he WILL pick you up and carry you away. no need for his ability either hes goated as we all know

sometimes he does find himself laughing at the things you say. he tries not to. he does. (his laugh is so infectious too)

kunikida

youve seen how he interacts with dazai (or rather how dazai interacts with him)

point is dazai gets on his nerves. we love an annoying bisexual king. you would think he would have a similar attitude towards you but he doesnt !! hes usually on board for your shenanigans

he loves hearing you talk no matter what its about. though he likes when you talk about dazai because its usually how annoying he is

thats usually the only time he joins in to give his two cents

he was a bit taken aback by how blunt you were when you two first met. he probably was already mentally noting which of his relationship ideals you fit and which you didn't (though obviously it doesnt matter now because youre dating him lmao)

you can take the man out of the teaching position but u cannot take the teaching position out of the man when i tell u he LOVES hearing gossip coupled with opinions on said info

plus he gets to hear your ramblings whenever you two are together

the bluntness and lack of filter does catch him off guard on occasion like you say something and he goes PAUSE ?

other than that he likes listening to what you think of HIM because you dont hesitate to point out unhealthy coping mechanisms in him before he accidentally turns them into habits

(plus its a confidence booster when you tell him the things you like)