#so it's a vicious cycle

[yeyinde]

Would you consider writing a poly141 version of the babytrap universe? Completely understand if it’s not to your interest to write, but I would love to see that story play out in your delicious writing style :)

ohh, absolutely. i think the best way to do it would be to have poor reader, desperate for a family of her own, and making the stupid decision to hand her resignation into Price.

and then admitting, shyly, that there's no man in your life, just a donor waiting for you to sign the papers and make the deposit for the procedure. thanking him for everything he's done, of course; but you're excited for this new chapter in your life.

He accepts it. Sure. Smiles tightly, and says, "good luck." Calls a meeting after to discuss it with the rest of the team. Closed door. A little unusual, but nothing that immediately raises your hackles. You're too busy cleaning up your desk to really pay much attention to hushed whispers in Price's office. Happy to celebrate, too, when Johnny invited you out for drinks after. Tae say goodbye properly, he said, and looking back, you should have seen through the faux sadness draped over his brow. Picked up on the giddy excitement buzzing around him as he led you to the bar, as he offered to get you drinks. Handed you an open bottle. Tipping it back for you to drink more. 

Keep goin’, doe. Drink ‘er up. 

Another one. Another. Your head swims. Kyle is there, hands warm on your waist, breath rippling across the sweat gathering on the nape of your neck. 

“C’mon, birdie. Have a shot with me.” He coos, bringing the glass to your lips, chest glued to your spine. “Can't believe you want a baby. Fuck, birdie, that's—”

Johnny murmurs something under his breath. You blamed the three glasses of whiskey sour (Price wouldn't let you have anything else) and a shot of tequila for why it sounded like,

hope it's mine—

To the left of you, Ghost snorts under his breath. Shifts in the stool that creaks, whining under his weight. You blink through fog seeping into your head, this strange, syrupy torpor that bleeds into the corners of your vision, makes everything feel muted, far away, and turned to him with a pout. 

He'd been acting strange ever since Price told him your plans. Quieter, somehow. But—

There. 

Everywhere. 

Your fixed shadow. Looming in the corners. 

You make to ask him what the hell he's doing, why he's following you around, but the words slosh out in a tangle. Incompressible.

Ghost huffs. His gloved hand lifts, falls to your throat, holding you steady with his thumb digging shallowly into your pulse. 

“Careful,” he mocks, dragging the word out like he was speaking to a misbehaving child. It bristles through you, but your tongue is thick. Liquid in your mouth. “Got a big night ahead o’you yet, pet. Try not t’hurt yourself before I get to knock you up.”

Distantly, you think you hear Gaz say something—oi, mate, maybe—but there's a shrill ringing in your ear that drowns it all out. A cotton spooling in your head. You blink—foolishly—and lean into his palm, mouth dropping in surprise. Shock. 

Horror. 

“Wha—?”

But it's too late, of course. What you thought were the comforting threads of a warm blanket spooling over your shoulders was the silken strands of a spider's web the whole time. Caught in their trap. 

And then you come to with a warm weight pressed against your back, a thick, hairy arm slung around your shoulders. Trapping you tight against a warm, broad chest.

“Want a baby, mm?” your captain coos in your ear, humid breath tickling your skin. Dampening it slightly as he leans in close, lips pressed to the shell—a warm, wet heat that makes you tremble—and adds: “fine, love. Since you want one so bad—” 

An arm lashes out of the shadows dancing around the room; through the heavy haze, the fog in your head (the last thing you remember is being offered a drink by Johnny, another by Kyle—), you struggle to make sense of what's happening around you as rough, dry fingers curl over your knee, prying your thighs apart: 

“—then we'll give it to you.”

You watch, dazed, dizzy, as cherryred knuckles slip down the valley of your spread legs, the ink on their thick fingers flexing, dancing, in the slip of pale moonlight until they curl into the hem of your panties, tugging the fabric roughly to the side. 

The sudden swell of cold air on your exposed cunt makes you gasp. Your knees jerking, trying to fold together to hide yourself, preserve some modicum of modesty, but the hand on your flesh tightens. Prevents you from moving. It keeps you open for their gaze. Lets them all gawk at the wide knuckles pressed against the seam of your pussy. Flushed in the low light. Dripping—

In the murk, someone groans—

“Shoulda told us sooner you wanted a fuckin’ baby, sweet’art. Woulda given you one sooner before y’had to go an’ do somethin’ so foolish—”

Foolish. Like paying for another man to put a baby inside of you when that privilege belongs to them. And them alone.

And really—

You should have known better.

[angel-in-your-basement]

Laying in bed touching my holes after being fucked raw and getting turned on all over again by how sore and well-used they are

[corneliaavenue]

Clara Bow lyrically is soooo fucked up, but no one notices because they just focus on 🥰"You look like Taylor Swift in this light, we're loving it" 🥰

[rimatsu]

*stares longingly out the window* will we ever get to see buck navigate the joys and challenges of a long-term relationship? will we ever watch him grow and evolve within the confines of a secure partnership that spans the years?

[28ms28]

one must imagine sisyphus a ferrari fan.

[tianhai03]

hi everyone sorry for not much actual art in the past few days ive been a little busy

[itadooori]

(WIP) so sorry bout the lag yall. workin on many things rn so take this gi-hun sketch from one of my wips. i think he looks like a real cutie here

[youkaigakkou-tl]

Hi, what’s the deal behind Ebisu hating Toubyou so much? I know he and Kurahashi seemed to be paired up a lot in artwork (they’re roommates and in the same club iirc) but Kurahashi doesn’t seem to like Toubyou or anyone in the class when he’s alone with Ebisu, so what’s the big deal?

ok you see a very intentional and important part of ebisu's personality is he's a little childish. he's a picky eater, ghosts in toilets scare him, he holds grudges based on vibes and doesnt like to get along with most people (contrast with ranmaru and genbu who have beef but can still work together, that sensei specifically puts it "they're adults about it")

kurahashi can tell ebisu he """doesnt care about school""" or whatever as much as he wants (whether it is or is not true), ebisu has eyes and can see him smiling and laughing hanging out with his friends all day

look at that fond look. thats totally a "u swear ur new friends arent better than me and ur still gonna hang out with me? ur not gonna leave me all alone? 🥺 do u prommy??"

[druidshollow]

Space is suddenly thrown into a panic, so Phrases helps them ground themself.

hellooooooooooo this wasnt an excuse to draw phrases and space cuddling. no of course not. i think the flickering blue light flung them into a flashback regarding dunes attack since the flashing is similar to the power given off by her spear. flashbacks can be caused by even very small triggers which is something i think space unfortunately struggles with pretty often. theyve got a good support system now though <3 phrases speaks pretty repetitively at points here- they're aware that space isnt mentally in the present and they're asserting what they know to help. sometimes you have to repeat yourself many times for someone in a panic to hear you or really process what youre telling them

[incorrect-web-novels]

"I hate Kim Dokja because he's too much like me" <-forced to bear the sin of knowledge

[moodymisty]

The anon on here that mentioned the first claw made me remember that one of their members: Cyrion, had a power that allowed him to taste people’s fear which he ended up getting sort of addicted to. And because of that he had a little side hobby of hunting down and killing serfs on the ship to sate it.

All im saying is. What if he found a serf whose fear tasted better than anyone he’d ever met before? And what if that taste and their instinctual terror of the astartes made them far more valuable to him alive than dead?

Wouldn’t it be so awful if a space marine stole you away and planned on never letting you go? If you realised that he was treating your innate fear of him like a morning meal? Wouldn’t it just be so horrible if his feelings for you developed into something more than master and servant? If his cravings for the way your body trembled under his grasp and the noise of your heart furiously beating in your ribcage left him feeling satiated, but not entirely. Wouldn’t it be horrifying if one day your lord leaned in far too close for comfort, but instead of whispering threats or baring his teeth at you, he just (far too gently) pressed his lips to yours? Wouldn’t it???

GOOD SHIT

[vellichor-lover]

Ah my favourite game: did that beautiful, mind-blowingly meaningful quote that I can’t stop thinking about come from a book series, or a fanfiction inspired by it?

[buwheal]

out of context lyric discussion doodles solely because you guys like this... thing.... or.... whatever he is........

[johnnyzest]

i make a new save so i can play without posting. i have fun. i want to share my fun with the world. i post. it becomes an obligation and stops being fun. i make a new save so i can pl

[transmechanicus]

Every day i take in the bare minimum amount of edible matter necessary to sustain an adult human, which surely has no relation to the fact that my brain wants nothing more than to be unconscious 27 hours of the day.

[yansurnummu]

TES fest day 6: abandoned

In the grief of supposedly losing her brother, Lilanwe certainly made some choices. She joined the Worm Cult, becoming a much more cold and cynical person. Granted, it wasn't entirely Auredil's fault for what happened to him, but I don't know that she'll ever really forgive him for leaving her behind.