#p. 23

[everyillumi]

[inkskinned]

okay i almost never address the very small amount of internet fame i have. and sometimes yes it sucks. people often repost my work, or clip it out of context, or flat-out steal it. but like it can be very funny. once a follower dm'd me to say a guy on hinge was pretending to be "inkskinned", and actually had even started his own insta. when she said "i've followed her for years i don't think you're her", he said - actually r.i.d is like seven people, we just made those initials up. (rude). when i found his insta and messaged him, he begged me to just lie and say he was r.i.d because "it's hard for men to date."

once someone said she should be allowed to plagiarize my work because she was a body-positive influencer and that if i "made a big deal" about this and "got her cancelled", i would be doing damage to my own community and i was never "actually" an ally.

i bear these things with the aura of a martyr, the way my catholic father raised me to. i message privately. i handle things quietly and quickly. i do not complain because i am very, very, very, very blessed and i know that. mercy and gentleness literally pour out of me every morning when i wake up, and then i have to mop the floors for how very Good i am.

however today is the first time i have ever had a very specific problem that neither requires me to correct this person nor throw them to the dogs but is somehow worse than years of hatemail, reddit thread death threats, and pinterest reposts:

someone quoted me and just got it, like, a little wrong.

[certainlyathrill]

hey guys, quick question - what the fuck is their deal?

[2kiran]

“ 𝐊 𝐈 𝐋 𝐋 𝐒 𝐇 𝐎 𝐓 ”

pairing keegan p. russ x you genre smut reader is a male. dom!reader x sub!keegan cw uppercase typing. enemy reader. gun kink. facefucking. humiliation. handjob.

you’ve never expected that keegan, out of all people, would be into that.

Keegan P. Russ, a well-respected Sergeant and Scout Sniper of the Ghosts. He lived up to his title, his experience on the battlefield providing him positive support throughout his years in the military. A man of many things. Strong and intelligent. Never one to step out of line.

Keegan P. Russ, a man who was proficient in his work field. He was intimidating. Never one to cower in face of missions. He was suited for a respectable leader. His strength and accomplishments gaining praise from higher and lower ranks alike. The air around his presence of an authority’s.

Keegan P. Russ, an embarrassed man who was currently on his knees. The expression of shame on his face hidden by his signature mask. The same one that was once drenched in multiple enemy combatants’ blood now concealing the creeping warmth on his cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out.”

He huffed in annoyance at your teasing words. “I’m not.” He wanted to. He really did. This was humiliating, both to his pride and to his reputation. He’d rather fucking die than to be caught in this predicament because of you. “Are you sure?” You leaned back, resting against the couch.

“I mean, I’m not saying that you can’t handle this. But don’t you feel a little conscious?” You shrugged, not waiting for a response, “Not even for your reputation?” A hint of a smirk playing on your lips as you watched his growing anger in the form of his balled fists. It was amusing to see the Keegan P. Russ crumble in need. Even worse, for his enemy.

“Shut the fuck up.” He gritted his teeth.

“Or what?” His hand flew to grab the gun in your hand, but you quickly slapped it away. “Nice try.” It wasn’t a compliment. A sarcastic response to get under his skin further. He knows you enough to realize that you weren’t going to allow him to forget this unfolding situation. There was a high chance he was going to regret this, but he wanted to indulge his fantasies of with you, at least for a little while.

He shouldn’t be down on his knees, on a dirty old carpet, in an abandoned safe house. Especially not with you, a man who’s attempted to kill him and his team several times. Not to mention that you’re the same man who has been wanted by him the police for months.

Wanted in which way, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted — no, that’s not quite right — needed you right now.

“Get it over with.”

You sighed, “You’re so impatient.” Taking out the magazine, you inspected the amount of bullets inside before returning it to the chamber. Switching off the safety, you pointed it at him. His breath hitched, the muzzle centered to his forehead. You were right; he was impatient. It didn’t help that you were mere seconds away from giving him what he wants.

“Your mask,” You reminded, softly, “Can you take it off for me?” He let out a huff, like he was going to decline but his hand rose. Unsure gloved fingers dipped underneath his shirt, the digits meeting fabric as he pulled it off of his head. There he was. Identity bare for someone who shouldn’t see the real him. As soon as the balaclava was on the floor, you trailed the muzzle down his face. He tensed, eyes wide. “What are you—?”

Quickly, his lips bumped against the front sight and you pushed it inside. He instinctively swallowed around the barrel, the taste and wide intrusion leading him to gag slightly.

“Mffh- mmhf? Mhg...” He attempted, even though the gun prevented him to properly speak.

You didn’t take it out, sliding it in further. Focus intent on the way he struggled to sit still and adjust. He shifted his position in discomfort, thighs rubbing against each other to try to soothe the ache in between his legs. His body was betraying him, cock growing hard inside the confines of his pants. He could easily stop you, but he didn’t want to. He was willingly submitting.

The sound of your tongue clicking snapped him out of his short daze, “Poor baby,” you shook your head in mock disappointment. “You’re not even afraid to have your head blown off?” It was a rhetorical question, not that he was going to answer. The letters he learned were turning into complete mush. “I would’ve done this with you sooner if I knew that you were so willing to just... take it.”

Saliva built in his mouth, trickling out of the corner. He was fucking drooling. “You’re better like this.”

He shook his head the best he could. “No?” You chuckled, drawing the gun back. “C’mon. Use your words.” His gaze hardened, but his body was a traitor to his emotions. A glare set in his eyes yet he had a tent in his pants and a blush on his cheeks. Hips rutting into nothing.

“I’m not—”

You shove it back in.

“Not what?”

Deity forgive him, he didn’t know if he hated that fact about you. Unbearable — that’s what he uses to describe you. Unbearable and cruel. A know-it-all. He could never tell you that. Not with the gun harshly pushing back and forth in his mouth, at least.

It was downright sinful.

Sinful, with the sounds that his throat was making. The muzzle poking at the back. He shouldn’t have a loaded firearm on his tongue. Not with you, a criminal that should be locked behind bars, treating it like it was your cock. Your treatment was rough, giving him little to no time to breathe. It felt uncomfortable, but so disgustingly good at the same time. This was your gun. The aftermath will have him lingering on your mind.

He shouldn’t want to be on your mind.

But he just can’t help it. He does have self-control, but you seem to simply take it away. He nearly smiles at the thought of you trying to come up with an excuse to why your gun was wet at the edges, maybe you’d forget to clean it, maybe you don’t even want to. Unknowingly, his hand wandered up to your belt. Shaky fingers took it off, achingly slow.

He finally pulled down your pants. A moan slipping into the muzzle as he wished that it was you in his mouth instead. But he had to wait. He wrapped his hand around the base, stroking it in a lazy manner. His eyes were hazy, throat for sure sore, and sweat on his skin. You bucked your hips into his palm, watching as he gags on your gun. Suddenly, a loud moan erupted from him, muffled. A wet patch forming on the crotch of his pants.

Fucking hell. You pant, currently in disbelief —

“Did you just cum?”

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[starsapphire]

i am so serious that they need to change kon's alias like it's getting ridiculous. 6 foot plus tall guy built like a brick shithouse with stubble drops from the sky and lands on his combat boots on cracked pavement, adjusts his leather jacket, and says "i'm superboy"

[pwelverum]

All lies lead to the truth

[russellius]

@.georgerussell63: NYE celebrations 🕺✨

[italiantea]

i cant believe 'how to talk with short people' tofu is canon

[ldshadowdoodles]

You should draw Mumbo and Lizzie if they were soulmates in double life or slazzie!

[275] Mumbo and Lizzie duo,,, I LOVE THEM!!! I have a whole AU for them in DL (I might end up drawing more of them @oftheriverseine if you wanna hear about it (shameless plug)) <3

[alienmiilk]

kuronatober

[askarsjustsoswedish]

Alexander Skarsgård, Kate Winslet - Lee ’23 – Roland Penrose, Lee Miller.  Extended Clip - Atlanticlive Instagram, 13 September ‘24 (x)  Thanks Skarsjoy (x)

[everyillumi]

[aarontveit]

AARON TVEIT as TOPHER SCHMIGADOON! (2021 - 2023) S02E03: Bells and Whistles

[redarmyscreaming]

The PZL P-23 Karas was one of the most important combat aircraft in the inventory of the Polish Military Aviation prior to the outbreak of World War II. Designed as a three place light bomber and reconnaissance type in the early thirties, and powered by the Polish-built Bristol Pegasus radial engine, the p-23 was placed in production in time to be available during the German invasion in 1939. Numerous units were equipped with the P-23A and P-23B versions, and these operated in the light bomber and reconnaissance role during the time that Poland was defending itself against the Germans. Later, when the Russians began their own invasion, most of the surviving P-23’s were flown to Romania, where some of them soldiered on until the end of the war. A few were also exported to Bulgaria before the war, and these were redesignated P-43A due to a change in engines.

[shisasan]

23 August , 1899 Aleksandr Blok (1880-1921), Selected Poems

[harbingersecho]

some outfits for the crown