#the text tools suck ass

[masteraqua]

i need a new mobile blog theme

[soysaucevictim]

I swear, making entire different sets of ASCII/Unicode for text/lettering was a damn mistake.

This shit. Constantly. Gets. Past. Spam. Filters. =_=

[krenia]

"Finally it charged time to transfer the Marie piece and finish all the shipart—"

*random Aiden 30 minute [something] instead appearing*

[missmielyhoran]

Better Than Revenge

after your boyfriend cheats on you with your best friend, you want revenge, and luckily, he has a very hot brother...

[Warning- Smut, Revenge sex, name calling, cheating (both Harry and reader gets cheated on), unrotected sex (pulling out doesn't make babies or std go away), Just me being a petty bitch tbh]

A/N- She's a short one

Masterlist

*****

Two people you trusted your whole life with.

Two people who knew your ups and downs.

Two people who knew your darkest secrets.

Two people who decided to forget all the years together and stabbed you in the back.

And they deserved everything that was coming for them.

You knew your "best friend's" parents were super stricts, relationships and boys were out of the door for them so fucking your best friend's boyfriend? You knew she be in deep shit.

So you sent them screenshots of their chats along with a picture of her riding him.

Did it make you sad to do that to someone you were ready to take a bullet for? yes

Did it also feel great to get back at her? fuck yeah.

Now for your tool of ex-boyfriend you knew exactly what to do.

You see, William was jealous of his brother, not only cause he was the better looking of two but also cause he did so without any effort and unlike him he was kind.

You also might or might not have had a little crush on him in the start.

You walked quitely into your ex-boyfriend's house, making sure he didn't see you and then tip toed to his brother, Harry's room. Quickly, you got inside and locked the door behind you, hearing for any noises.

"Y/N?" He called out. You turned to see him, cozy in grey sweatpants and an oversized sweater sitting on his desk with books opened, headphones on probably doing his homework, "Are you okay? Did Will do something?" He asked.

"Do you know where your girlfriend is?" You asked him. He tilted his head to the side, confused and shook his head. You sighed, understanding that he didn't even know what had been going on for the past four months and then felt bad for what you were about to tell him.

"Your girlfriend and my best friend is fucking your brother" You said rolling your eyes. You walked beside him near the deak and showed him your phone, the pics sent by your friend, and the texts.

Harry watched everything in horror, feeling sadness overtake him. It wasn't like he was in love with her or that they were serious or something, but getting cheated on sucked especially when it's your own brother.

That was the part that hurt him the most. His own blood did this to him.

After the sadness came anger and he saw red. He gave you your phone back and started walking towards his bedroom door, ready to beat Will's ass.

But you stopped him.

You knew Will only did this to get a reaction out from Harry. It felt like he always had to do something to have an upper hand over his brother, whether it's was right or wrong,

and you had a better plan for revenge anyway.

*****

The car was now fogged up as Harry removed his lips from yours, travelling south to your jaw.

"Fuck" You whimpered out at the feeling and started to grind your hips over base of his cock sitting on his lower belly.

You questioned yourself right then. Why were you with the other brother anyway? William was attractive don't get her wrong, but Harry? He looked like he belonged in an art gallery.

Especially naked.

"God, you're so pretty. Why the fuck were you with that piece of shit?" He asked bucking his hips upward sending shock waves through your body as it rubbed over your throbbing clit.

"Don't know" You moaned grinding your hips faster, "You have bigger cock anyway" Your head fell on his shoulder, the tingling on the end of your spine threatened to unravel.

"Yeah," He said, chuckling. His right hand went to your wist while his left came up to your neck, seizing all your movement. He pulled your head back, forcing your eyes open.

"Want me to fuck you dumb baby?" He asked rhetorically, "So good you will not even remember his name" He said pushing you back a bit, with his right hand he lined up his dick to your weeping pussy.

He looked up, and you gave him a nod. That's all needed cause, next thing you know he's slamming into you.

You let out a broken, loud moan, not even bothering to concel your noises. The thrill of revenge fucking in your ex boyfriend's favourite car knowing he was about to walk towards you two any minute with your "best friend" drove you crazy.

His left hand stayed on your neck while his right slide down your body again and rested on your clit. He didn't even apply pressure, just a feather of touch, making you want more yet still feeling too much.

Harry didn't know if it was the anger or that you looked like an absolute sin riding his cock that made him want to just stay there forever, in your warm tight cunt.

How could that fucking idiot cheat on someone like you?

But he had a feeling Will only dated you cause he knew Harry once had a crush on you, and he would get one more opportunity to tell everyone he's with the girl his brother had a crush on.

Or how much of a loser Harry is.

Well, who was the loser now, though?

"God, look at you, baby. Haven't got a good dicking in a while have you?" He mocked, "You're almost gagging for it" He shook his head taunting, and smirked when your clenched around him as an approval.

"Fuck no" You panted out, "Had to get myself off myself after sex. Fuckwit didn't even know where clit was" You laughed along with Harry.

"Poor baby" He pouted and slid down a little in the seat planting both legs on the car floor and then fucking up into you with an unforgiving pace.

He was feeling his orgasm close and seeing the time on his phone sitting beside him he knew Will was about to walk towards the car to go out with his friends and he wanted you coming right in front of him.

"You gonna come, baby?" He asked applying a bit pressure on your clit, his hand move from your neck to your behind groaping your ass.

"God she could never feel like this, your pussy feels so good like it was made for me. My personal little fleshlight" He said sucking hickeys on your neck. He wanted everyone to see what he did to you, wanted everyone to know he made you limp walk next day in college.

He also knew he would be back begging you to fuck him again.

You looked out of the window and saw the main door open. Will and Mia walked towards the car, giggling, unaware of what was going on inside.

Harry felt his phone chime beside him and saw a 'miss you' text from his girlfriend ex-girlfriend.

He decided not to reply and rubbed your clit faster making your moans along with his louder.

"Have all mind to just come inside you, babe. Have you knocked up and let everyone know you're mine and not that dickhead's" He said with his pace now faltering, his own orgasm approaching.

"Yes, please," you whined out and leaned down to kiss him. It was a mess of teeth and tongue, and you came all around his cock with a loud moan.

Harry not far behind pulled out of you and came all over your pussy and lower tummy, your lips not leaving his once.

"What the fuck?!" A feminine scream came from beside him and you smirked against his lips feeling the satisfaction seep into you. You bit down on Harry's lips, making him whimper for change.

You pulled away to see the two people looking at you with wide eyes. William's angry eyes on his brother while Mia's flicked between you two.

"What is all this? You whore, I didn't gave you attention for few days and you fucked my brother!" William screamed reaching out his hand to probably yank you away from Harry but before he could Harry stopped his hand and twisted it as far as he could making him cry out in pain.

"Fucking touch her and see what happens" he growled and you sweared your pussy skipped a beat.

"You're my best friend. How could you do this?" Mia started crying, and you rolled your eyes at her audacity.

"You have been fucking mine for four months. You have no place to talk about girl code" you said, looking her straight in eyes and seeing them widened in horror and realization.

"I- That-" She started stumbling over her words but just cut her off, "Save it"

"So this is what? a revenge? Fucking my brother!" William screamed. You looked at him over your shoulder and smirked, putting your head down on Harry's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your lower waist.

"You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes"

*****

I can't believe my hlaf asleep dumbass posted this half written😭🤦‍♀️

Taglist- @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @lomlhstyles @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515

Please Like, Comment and Reblog.

You can talk to me here♡ cause I love it when you guys talk to me about anything!

Requests are unfortunately closed.

[brokenpieces-72]

COD x Transformers

Fair warning: heavier language than what I usually write.

Not gonna lie I’m gonna need help with this if y’all want a series. I’m letting requests and comments to push this series forward, because honestly I don’t know what else to do with this.

School was so stupid, why were you even here? You see some value in the lessons, math is useful, science is good to have, understanding history is helpful, and English has you reading in a different way. Why you had to come to classes though you really don't understand. But Price suggested it, and offered to pay for it, so here you are. Of course when people know where you grow up, or rather think they know where you grow up, that means dealing with people who are either afraid of you or think they are superior to you.

At least the guys in your shop class were chill. When you first came to the class, you got some looks, but after a week they were asking questions about your life. You kept a lot of it to yourself but it was nice having people not treat you like a delinquent.

You didn't have shop though, unfortunately there had been an accident recently involving some of the power tools being damaged, with yellow tape over the doors. It meant going home early sure, but you had one more class. Some girl took a piece of gum acting like she was better than you when you told her no. There was a kid who whipped around to hand you a work sheet, and then whipped back forward as soon as you got it, despite you not doing anything to him all year. Another handful of students tagged your locker with 'gang' signs and adult photos, and you were blamed for it. If it weren't for being in school you and the principal could be on a first name basis. Half the time she'd just go straight to security footage to see what had actually happened and shut down whatever group was trying to get you in trouble.

The bell rings and you stay seated, waiting for the teacher to finish talking and others to leave before you get up, slowly inserting your books and papers into your bag, before hoisting it over your shoulder. Of course it couldn't be that easy as you're met with a small group around your desk, close enough to break your personal bubble and making it very hard to stand up without bumping one of them, you just stare at the ground off to the side.

“Pay up.” The rich boy says. For what? God knows this time. He’ll demand money for a number of things. Tiny scratch on his car, losing an “unfair” bet, or for wasting his time getting called by the principal for his own actions.

“I’m not paying for the hairline damages on your daddy’s borrowed ride, for me crushing you in whatever you considered our most recent bet, or for making you late for your work shift at kissing mommy and daddy’s ass for getting caught.” You say before sliding back in your seat away from them, and heading for the door. You turn back to push in your chair, and that’s when the rich boy’s richer girlfriend pipes up.

“Probably wouldn’t want to touch any of their bills, who knows where they stuffed them last night at the club.” She sneers leaning in. You lean in to meet her.

“Sorry you couldn’t get me for your lap dance, I had respectable company to entertain last night.” You say smugly. God that shock and disgust on her face was a thing of natural beauty. You start walking out but before you can reach the door one of the rich couple’s cronies decides to make another remark.

“Bet your mama sucked dick to get you here.” You stop dead in your tracks when you hear this. When you were younger a comment like this made you see red and it made life difficult on your mother with the amount of fights you’d get into. You see red now. You turn to them.

“Even if she was straight, your fat ass hogs all the space under the desk in the office.” With that you leave, shoving your earbuds in. As you go, you take a photo of the shop class door with the yellow caution tape over it and send it to the guys. You text them, asking if you can hang out at the junkyard.

House rule: no skipping class to come see them. If you got off early that was another story. As you leave the building, you get a text from your mom. You didn’t tell her about shop class but she asks if you’re going to the junkyard. Which means she knows even without you telling her.

Y/N: yeah, shop is cancelled.

Mom: homework?

Y/N: was going to do it there.

Mom: Sleepover?

Y/N: maybe.

Mom: stay safe.

Y/N: I will.

You sigh and finally get a reply from the guys. They’re out but they’ll see you at the junkyard. Which meant you’d be able to do some homework by yourself.

There’s one of those giant storm shelters at the yard. It used to be for sorting junk like appliances, propane tanks, electronics, car parts, etc. Any equipment or machinery in there had either been removed or was completely broken down. Now it was your gang’s pad, complete with old beat up couches, a small fridge, a few tables and chairs, and whatever project was being worked on. There was a small loft area for you as well, filled with slapping bags, blankets that rivalled Swiss cheese and ratty cushions.

When you get to the junkyard you find the hole in the fence you use to sneak in and make your way down the dirt path. As you walk you notice some of the piles had been sifted through. Odd. The guys usually waited for you before sifting through the piles. Maybe they wanted an early start before going off to do whatever they were doing now. You reach the building and plop down on one of the couches, enjoying the silence and what sounds like some more trucks dropping off junk.

Kyle reclined on the couch leaning against your shoulder to bug you. They’d brought dinner for you, and Price was supposed to arrive later tonight. Johnny and Simon were working on a car they’d been trying to fix for some time. They got a new part for it and were doing some more work. Kyle was stepping back to bug you for a bit. He sees you more focused on your text book and not saying too much.

“What is the square root of Canada?” He asks. You don’t reply, so he replies for you, taking your jaw in his hand and poorly imitating your voice. “35 to the power of-“

“Fuck off.” You mutter shoving his hand away. Kyle sits up and looks at you. Something happened today, hell something happens everyday but something has you ticked off. Kyle gets up and grabs two flashlights, before swiping the textbook out of your hands. Your shoulders slump as you take it and pull the hood up on your sweater, zipping up your coat. Kyle takes his off the couch.

“Going out!” He calls, and gets a wave from Simon.

Outside you turn on the flashlight, walking with him along the dirt trail, keeping your flashlight low. You have your hands in your pockets and you feel a pat on your bicep. Kyle hands you work gloves. You take them, and continue walking.

“What happened this time?” He asks. You bump him gently, showing silently your appreciation for his company.

“Same old.” You say. Gaz sighs.

“You can’t let it get to you.” Gaz says. “They don’t know you, so why should you let them judge you?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, they treat me like I have, and won’t stop!” You argue.

“I know I know.” Kyle says, nodding. “Nothing wrong with a few comebacks. You have to remember though you are a beast among lions.”

“What kind of a metaphor is that?” You ask, half amused, half frustrated.

“They are testing you, trying to get you to act up so they have a reason to get you into more trouble. But you’re a much more powerful being, because you are more mature. You’ve grown up faster than them and they don’t like it.”

“So this is some initiation?” You ask, as you both start going off the trail to start checking for new loads.

“Nah. They’re egging you on to see if you’ll break or try to be one of them. You refuse to be one of them, and they can see that. So they go with the former.” He explains.

“…they insulted mom.” You mutter and he stops.

“You know the truth.”

“They don’t and then they go around talking about her like she’s some whore!” You argue, getting a little upset.

“She’s not. You know that.” He says. “And that’s all that matters.”

You nod. Then you both hear something. The two of you look in the direction of the sound, towards a pile that was deflating. Animal weren’t uncommon in the junk yard. However you’ve never heard this sort of metallic animal noise. It sounds like a raptor. Kyle puts an arm out, keeping you back, and shining a light at the pile. You’re frozen in place while Kyle moves closer. He only gets a couple steps before a head pokes out and you both are still as possible.

A metallic raptor looks at the two of you tilting its head curiously.

“Please don’t quote Jurassic Park.” You say quietly. Before Kyle could respond the raptor stalks out, keeping its focus on you. You’d heard about robotic aliens online but you’d taken it in as conspiracy. Guess this is how believers are made.

The creature makes another metallic growl, sniffing at Kyle. You’re impressed he can stay so still. The raptor’s claws are razors, with its spine and head looking like it was decorated with feathers from various fan blades. It’s around your size, so Kyle is taller but he’s also unarmed. Except for the flashlight. The eyes glow as they stare at the two of you, they’re a golden yellow.

It makes another small cry before walking away, and then looking back at you.

Without thinking you slowly move towards it. Kyle tries to stop you but the raptor approaches you both again. It comes closer, until you’re eye to eye with it. Your heart is pounding, and you wonder if it can hear it. It makes an odd sound, almost like a coo. You catch a glimpse at its teeth, and they’re sharper than any nail you’ve seen.

It walks away from you, before turning back at a short distance from you both. It’s waiting.

Kyle exchanges a look with you.

“We should follow it.” You say, seeing the creature shift from foot to foot anxious. Kyle opens his mouth to argue but honestly, he doesn’t know what to make of it.

“We have to tell Soap and Ghost.” He says.

“I’ll follow it, you go get them.” You say, and start following it before Kyle can protest. Kyle texts them, instead not about to ditch you. Your mother would kill him, and she could out run him.

The critter runs up ahead and you hug after it. It waits for you to catch up before hurrying off again. In between its movements it picks around the trash looking for something. It seems to find whatever it’s looking for but you can’t make out what it is.

It keeps going and eventually rounds the bend behind a much larger pile of junk. You’re not unfamiliar with these mountains, too dangerous to scale and picking through it could cause a collapse. You hesitate now, unsure about what could be on the other side. Kyle is nervous too.

“We should wait for the others.” Kyle suggests. You don’t mind waiting. Following the creature was a complete whim. For all they knew behind the mountain was a whole flock. You look around and find a long pipe. Not perfect, but it will do. Hopefully.

You wait a while and you can hear footsteps, from two large men and the raptor. It pokes its head out and then its whole body when Ghost and Soap see it eyes wide. If Ghost is scared he doesn’t show it, Soap just tenses.

“The bloody ‘ell is that.” He asks. It comes out from its hiding place and approaches you. You approach it, meeting halfway. It claws the ground restless.

“It needs help I think.” You say looking at it. It take off yet again, and you follow it behind the mountain where you freeze up. There’s a huge dinobot before you. It’s breathing heavily, sounding like the brakes of a bus. It’s another dinosaur, but this one is huge it looks like a triceratops. It’s weak too. When you look at the raptor you see it nudging something closer to it. Mustering your courage you move closer, while the other three hold back. You find at the raptors feet are batteries.

So many questions run through your mind, but the raptor gives you this almost pleading look. You look back at the guys who look tense, but keep their lights on.

“What do we do now?”

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @tai-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666

[singsangseung]

Study Date

Hhhheeeeyyyyy besties it's me @astraysimp! I’m switching it up and writing some smut–the duality. I’ve been having some UNHOLY thoughts lately…. And well here we are :D this is my first time writing smut though, so please be considerate of that. I plan on writing a mix of smut and fluff, and in the future plan on having a masterlist dedicated to smut only. Anyways, Enjoy (grab a snack this is a LONG one)

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀Summary: you have an exam coming up, so you ask your lovely boyfriend Seungmin to help you study. However, things go awry, you have other plans and end up not studying at all

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀Warnings: college!boyfriend Seungmin, dirty talk, hair pulling, ROUGH, degradation kink, fem!reader, Seungmin wears gray sweatpants, unprotected sex(DONT BE A FOOL AND WRAP YOUR TOOL), chance of getting caught, hard!dom Seungmin,cussing-lots , reader is called slut,etc, choking kink,squirting

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺MDNI 18+ ONLY ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

You had a calculus exam next week and you knew you needed to study. But, you also knew you missed your boyfriend Seungmin. So, you had the idea to text him for a study date , so you sent him a text. “Hey baby, want to help me study for my calc exam?” You sent it to him , waiting for a reply. Giggling, you heard your phone ding, signaling his reply. “Sure,bubs. I’m at my dorm,come on over <3”. So, you made your way to his dorm building.

Arriving at his dorm , he buzzed you in and you made your way to his dorm room. Humming to yourself, you knocked on his door, before he answered. Smiling, he opened the door and leaned in for a kiss. “Hi, babes. Ready to study?” He whispered against your lips, feeling  you kiss him back. “I am, bubba.” You smiled, kicking your shoes off and closing the door. Holding your hand, Seungmin led you to his room, sitting on his bed. “C’mon princess, study time,” He smiled, patting his bed. Then…you noticed, gray sweatpants, perfectly showing the outline of his cock. The sight of his sweatpants and the outline of his cock had your mind wandering. Sitting on his bed, you tried to push the dirty thoughts from your mind so you could focus.It went well for about 25 minutes, but then you started getting bored. “Minnieeeee, why’d you wear thoooseeeee? You know what those do to me.” You whined, throwing a leg of his waist and pressing wet kisses to his neck and jaw. “Yah, control yourself baby. You said you wanted to study for your exam.” He groaned, feeling his resolve slowly die. You just couldn’t help yourself though, he looked too good and his dick was PRACTICALLY asking for your attention. Humming, you moved to straddle his waist, sucking hickies into his neck, running your hands along his chest. “Mmm, can’t baby. Need you, ‘s been too long,” you whispered, grinding your pussy against his hardening dick. Seungmin groaned, threading his hand into your hair, pulling your head back. “Fucking pathetic. All you can think of is my cock huh?” He taunted, pressing his dick into you. Whining, you moaned and ground yourself harder against him. “F-fuck, yess baby. Want your cock so bad, ‘so so big, need it in me,” you whined, feeling your panties growing wetter. “Pathetic, what a needy slut. Work for it, my little slut.” He laughed, using his spare hand to grip your ass, grinding you on his dick faster and harder. You whined and pulled him in a searing kiss, your tongues colliding and hastily pulled his sweatpants and boxers down, along with your sweats and panties. “Fuck, fuck, so big, sir.” You whined, taking his cock into your hand.

Seungmin scoffed and lolled his head back, smacking your ass. “Come on, thought you wanted my cock. Hurry before you don’t get anything.” He rolled his eyes, feeling you line your cunt up with the tip of his dick. Moaning, you slowly sank down on his cock, feeling it stretching you.”FUCK! Oh my good, sir, fuck, minnie! SO big hhnnngggggg.” You whined, eyes clenched shut as you rolled your hips, grinding your clit against his pelvic area. Chuckling, he watched you slowly bouncing on him and slapped your ass. “That’s all you got. Come on, does sir have to do it all for you? How pathetic.” He, suddenly, thrusted up into your cunt. “fffuuuccckkkkkk!Sir! S-sir, cock’s so big! More please! “ You moaned, eyes closed and your head thrown back.  Sighing, he pulled your hair hard and flipped you over, on the bed. Seungmin hissed, seeing how wet your cunt was, and guided his dick back into you, pressing your legs to your chest. “Fuuuck, baby. Your cunt is so good. So tight and wet for me.” He groaned, watching the way his cock slipped into you. Nodding, you grabbed the bedsheets. “Fuck! Sir, fuck- so good! Hhhnngggg!” You cried out, as he sped his thrusts up. Pounding into you, Seungmin wrapped a hand around your neck, snapping his hips against yours. “Fuck! Clenching my cock so good, princess. What do you say to sir?” He groaned, eyes focused on your fucked out face , he put pressure on the sides of your neck. “Hhhhhhnnnggggggg! Oh my - fuck! Thank you sir! Thank you- fuck you fuck me so fucking good!” You whined, opening your eyes to see him staring back at you.”Yeeeaaaaaah. Taking sir’s big cock so well, yeah. So fucking wet baby. So tight, clenching my cock like that,” he hissed, rolling his head to the side. Whining, you held onto the hand around your neck. “Fuck me! Oh my fucking goooddddd! Seungminn! SO fucking close,hhhnnggggg!” Leaning down to your face level, Seungmin scoffed. “ You don’t get to cum that easy, slut. Beg.” He smirked, flipping you onto all fours.

Burying your face in the pillow , you cried, his hips snapping against yours harder. “Fuuuck! Please let me cum sir! Please, want to cum on your big cock so bad. Please please please!” You whined, and threw your ass back on him. That seemed to not only not satisfy him but annoy him. Pulling your hair back, he pulled your back to his chest and put his hand around your neck. Groaning into your ear, he only sped up and hissed into your ear. “ You’re going to take what I fucking give you. Got it, slut?” He seethed, pushing your body down, the front of your body collapsing on the bed, and smacked your ass. “What a pathetic slut. What happened to studying,hm? Wanted to study my cock, this whole time.” He groaned, pulling your hips flush against his and ramming into your harder. You cried and turned your head to see his face– sweaty and brows furrowed with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “Yah! I asked you a fucking question, slut. Answer me, or you don’t get anything, understand?” He roared down at you, smacking your ass, and pulled your hair. “Aaaaaahhhhh! Hnnnnngggggg, fuck! Fuck yes! Just wanted your cock this whole time,sir,” You whined, feeling your orgasm approaching. Chuckling, Seungmin rolled his hips into you slowly, the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot. 

He knew that spot sent you overboard, so… he pulled out–only leaving his tip in you. Crying you reached back to try to make his dick sink into you. “Why’d you stop? Fuck,sir! PLease, need it ! need to cum, please let me cum! Please please please oh fuck–” you whined, feeling him snap back into you. “So fucking desperate for my cock,” he glowered, enunciating between each thrust. You could only nod , your eyes rolled back, which made him laugh. Smacking your ass, Seungmin groaned, feeling you clench his dick tighter. “Oh poor slut. Fucked all dumb on my cock.” He laughed condescendingly, watching you shake your head and clutch the bedsheets with white knuckles. “Maybe I should test you, slut. If you pass, I’ll let you cum.” That thought alone had you gushing around him, moans falling from your lips. “Oh my little slut likes that? If you fail…. No cumming , slut. You take my cum and don’t fucking complain.” He laughed out, hips hammering against yours-sending his cock to hit your g-spot. “Let’s start,hm? What’s the equation for the constant rule?” he asked, pulling you up by your hair, slowing his thrusts. “Hhhnnngggg-f-fuck- it’s d over d times x all muliplied by…fuck” you whined, feeling him reach down to rub your clit.”What was that, my little slut?” He sneered, snapping his hips into yours once. “Fuuucccccckkkkkk! Fuck it’s d over d times ex all multiplied by c equals 0, sir” You whined, feeling his thrusts speed up. “Good job, slut. You got that right, next question……what are the 4 basic steps to finding the derivative?” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your neck, your eyes rolling back. “Come on….1….2….if i get to three you get nothing.1……2…..” He counted, slowly rubbing your clit.  “What’s step 1?” “fuck…choose the interval,” you moaned, reaching down to grip his wrist. Continuing his rubbing on your clit, “step 2?” “2 is..-oh fuckkkkk-find the r-raw change,sir.” You moaned, throwing your head forward. He only nodded, slightly speeding his thrusts up. “Gooood, good slut. What about 3 and 4?” He hissed, slowly fucking his cock into you. “Ooooh  fuuuuuckkkk. Oh god, I’m close.Min min minnnn, right there fuck.” You whined, feeling his tip hit your g-spot. “Only two more steps, honey.” He soothed you, rocking his hips steadily, sure to hit your g-spot every time. “3-fuck-3 is find the rate of change and -fuck meeeee sooo big hnnnggggg- 4 is make your model perfect.” You rushed out .

Smirking, Seungmin quickly flipped you onto your back, going back to pounding into you with a hard fast pace. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your lips, seeing the tear stains on your cheeks. “Gooood job, my slut, my pretty slut. I can feel you clenching me.” He cooed, still ramming into you, reaching down to rub fast circles in your clit. “You close, does my slut want to cum?” He  smiled, his hips colliding with yours. Shrieking out, you nodded. “Fuck yes yes yes! Please- hhnnnngggg- fuck please let me! So close, minnie!” You groaned, pulling his hair. Caging you against the bed, Seungmin snapped his hips against yours. “One last question…..who fucks you this good?” He punctuated, the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot HARD. You threw your head back, legs shaking and vision blurry. “Oh fuuuucccckkkk! You! You,sir ! Minnie fucks me this good! Aaaaaah, need to cum!” Smirking , he drew his hips back, snapping them against yours, for the last time. “Yeeeeaaaahhh. Fuck, good little slut for me! Taking my cock so well. Soak my cock, only thing you’re good at,” he groaned out. That’s when the band snapped and you squirted, covering his dick, lower abdomen and bedsheets in your release. “Fuuuuckkkkkkk! Miiiiinnnnniiiiiiieee!HHhhhhhnnnnggggg!” You cried, arching your back as he spilled his cum into you.”Fuuuck, yeeaahhhh baby! Take my fucking cum,” he groaned, head thrown back.

Once you recovered and he had changed the bedsheets; he gave you a change of his clothes– his shirt and a pair of boxers– and slipped them onto your tired body.”Think you’re ready for that exam, princess?” He smiled, softly pecking your forehead, as you curled into him. “Mmmmm, I don’t know.” You giggled, playing with his hand as he laughed. “Yah! Naughty! But, I know you’ll do well, jagiya.” he smiled, tucking the both of you in, letting a yawn out. “Let’s sleep, sweetheart. We can get coffee in the morning….if you can walk.” He snorted, leaning down to kiss you. “Good night minnie moo, love you.” You smiled, throwing an arm around his midsection and fell asleep. “Love you too, jagiya. Sleep well,” then he drifted off to sleep, dreamland pulling him in. 

And for the record .. you passed with flying colors. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Please don’t steal, copy, translate, claim, or repost my works˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥AStraySimp-afterdark2023˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Tag you're it | @straykeedz @straykeedz-recs @jinnie-ret @moonjxsung

[cyberrose2001]

As ur request are still open:

Have you ever thought of Drunk tfp Ratchet👁👁

I had this idea a minute ago while I am texting this phrase right here so eh let me continue, I thought it would be also a good idea to request this especially for you! But idk for what, maybe you could take ur time on choosing any type of way to describe in your eyes how he would be drunk, i think as an x reader or headcanon would be nice I just want to see your thoughts in it, sfw or nsfw

Ps: I'm kinda of a newbie on the fanfic community so uhm that's why I texted all of that-

TFP Ratchet Drunk Headcanons

You know me too well, Anon.... i certainly have.

I would write a scenario but I'm in the middle of five nightshifts so this will be all for now, thank you for requesting! <3

Reader is human fem.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, SFW and NSFW headcanons.

SFW

It takes quite a lot of high-grade energon just for Ratchet to feel a slight buzz. He would have to consume well over ten cubes of straight high-grade to get him into a state of drunkness, and by that point, he's already combing through the drawers of the med bay, showing anyone within reach of him his different tools and over-explaining what they're used for.

He'll slur his words while he waves around a hammer and then moves on to a very sharp scalpel, much to your horror.

"Y/n, did yoooou know that I have had this particular scalpel for... ten thousand vorns? HA! Still as sharp as ever."

"Honey, please don't play with sharp objects while drunk."

He can be very expressive while drunk, picking you up to sloppily pepper your face with kisses, telling you how much he loves you and how grateful he is to have you as his spark mate.

"Cybertron can shove a stick up its aft. I am never leaving Earth. I wanna stay here with yoooou." 

Akin to a child, it will take a lot of convincing to get Ratchet into berth, eventually getting Bulkhead to guide him to bed with you trailing behind.

Ratchet will want you to stay with him as he eventually falls into a self-deprecating mess, drunkenly voicing how he wishes he could be more useful to the team instead of waiting on the sidelines.

Lots of reassurance combined with helm cuddles and kisses.

NFSW

As stated above, Ratchet gets very touchy-feely while drunk.

After you had convinced him to put down the surgical tools, he'll bend down with a sly smirk on his faceplates.

"Perhaps I could show you my other... sharp tool... heh."

Once you're both finally in berth, he'll trail a servo across your ass and squeeze it. His helm would be buried deep in your neck, inhaling your intoxicating smell as he does so, and you can smell the high grade on his breath as he breathes into your skin.

And as much as you'd love to sleep, his touches kindle a fire in your stomach, a burning fire that only your mech could extinguish.

He would be too intoxicated to frag you into the berth, instead picking you up and placing you on his intake after he had stripped you bare of your clothes.

He'll sloppily kiss and suck at your folds before burying his glossa deep inside you, moaning into your pussy, causing vibrations that send your mind for a spin.

Ratchet will continue to eat you out as you brace your arms against his helm, a servo on your thigh and one fondling one of your breasts.

You'll become an overstimulated mess by the time Ratchet slowly drags his glossa against your walls and out of your now-saturated pussy, licking his dermas in satisfaction.

After cleaning you up with his glossa, Ratchet will spoon your bare body for the rest of the night, a digit tracing circles on your thigh to lull himself to sleep.

[atinylittlepain]

PART TWO

marcus pike x f!reader

no masterlist for this man, good luck to this man - read part one tho it's fun

warnings | 18+ smut, sucking and fucking and also angst, mentions of sex work, marcus is a freak ass sugar daddy with a cunty lil blackberry and a bmw vroom vroom

note: this is OLD, this is from the ARCHIVE, leave me alone and also i love you muah kiss for you

@idolatrybarbie come get your juice

....................................

People are staring. Backpacks held in slack hands, necks craned around to catch a glimpse of the beemer pulled up at the curb outside the library, sleek silver rims glinting in the afternoon light. But it’s the man leaning up against the side of the car that’s really piquing people’s interest. 

“Hey, baby, you ready to go?” A kiss to her cheek before his lips catch hers, a quick smack that she doesn’t let deepen under so many watchful eyes.

“Hi, Marcus, thank you for picking me up, but you could’ve just met me at my apartment, it’s no big deal.” He scoffs at that, his aviators slipping down his nose as he squints at her.

“You know I don’t like you riding public transportation, it’s not–” She cuts him off with another kiss, rubbing her palm up and down the lapel of his suit jacket.

“Not safe, I know. But I’ve been getting around just fine on the bus for a while now and I’ve yet to get murdered. So I don’t think you have to worry about it.” He chuckles, pressing his sunglasses back up before opening the passenger side door for her, all ease as he leans over the top of the door to steal one more kiss as she ducks into the BMW. 

​​Things have been different, and good, since she met Marcus. She had been a bit surprised when he called only a few hours after he dropped her off at her apartment that morning.

“Do I look like a complete dope calling you this soon?” 

“I kinda like it actually. You aren’t one to play games, huh?” A laugh crackling over the phone and a sigh.

“I guess I have a bit of a one-track mind. When I want something I gotta go after it– and I just sounded like a total tool saying that, didn’t I?” 

“Coming from anyone else, I’d say yes. But I think you’re a little too sweet to really be a tool. So, are you gonna ask me out or what?” Another laugh, her smile broadening at the sound.

“You’re gonna be the boss here, aren’t you?”“Count on it, babe.”

It’s been a little over a month since he called, and they’ve been seeing each other a lot, enough for her to have learned a considerable amount more about Marcus Pike. First and foremost, he’s a romantic, almost painfully so, flowers and good morning texts, dates to the arthouse theater to see classic movies about love triumphant, followed by meals at restaurants that could wipe her rent money for the month with one main course. That’s the second thing she’s learned about him, he likes to take care of her. It had started innocently enough, after the first time he took her to one of those aforementioned swanky restaurants and she expressed concern that she had stuck out like a sore thumb in the upscale space, it feeling impossible for her to dress nice enough to fit in. He had her in the BMW and on the way to a trail of boutiques before she could even protest, and she ended that day with an overwhelming number of shopping bags, tufts of tissue paper stamped with the names of brands she had never dreamed of buying for herself. And it had only escalated from there, from meals out to fresh sets of paint and easels to jewelry dripping in silver and gold, infamous powder blue boxes with satin white bows that always reveal something fit to make her head spin it’s so dazzling. And today is no different, a gift waiting for her on the plush leather of the passenger seat, Marcus glancing at her as he weaves through DC traffic, trying to catch her reaction when she opens it.

“Oh my god, Marcus. It’s– it’s so lovely. It must have cost a fortune, though. I couldn’t possibly–” He cuts her off with a light squeeze to her thigh where his palm is curled, lips crooking in a grin though he keeps his eyes on the road.

“Don’t worry about that. Just wanted to get you something nice. And I was thinking you could wear it tonight to dinner, if you like it?” How this man manages to thread confidence with his shyness is still beyond her, an endearing combination that only makes her want to figure him out more. She leans over the console, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before settling back down in her seat.

“I love it and I’d love to wear it tonight. Thank you.” She holds the bracelet up, letting it catch the fading afternoon light, a perfect string of diamonds glinting and glaring in the sun. It’s the same dance every time, she says she couldn’t possibly, and he tells her she absolutely can, and then she ends up with something shiny and expensive around her wrist, her neck, dangling from her earlobes, or flickering on her fingers. All she can figure is that whatever higher-up government type he is, he must be really really high up to be throwing money around like this. 

“I’ll be back down in a minute, just need to grab my bag and then I’m all yours.” It’s Memorial Day weekend, three whole days off for the both of them, and Marcus has asked her to spend it all with him, something she was more than happy to agree to. 

She pauses for a moment in her bathroom, swiping quick knuckles under her eyes, her week of exams showing in the dark circles resting there, and the late nights at the club certainly aren’t helping either. It’s a touchy subject for them, for him, and she knows it. She tries to reassure him that it’s just business, good money, but it hadn’t been just business with him, and she understands why he always gets a bit stiff when she mentions that she has a shift. 

“All set?” She hums an mmhmm, Marcus taking her bag from her to tuck into the trunk before they get on their way to his place. 

Logan Circle, one of the trendiest neighborhoods in DC, beautiful brownstones framed by sleepy-looking trees and winding parks. It had caught her off guard the first time he brought her over to his place, leading her by the hand up the steps of one of those brownstones, all twining ivy and high-arched windows, all his. He had offered her a sheepish grin and a shrug when she had quirked her eyebrows at him, explaining it away as one of the perks from the Bureau. 

She still feels a bit out of place amongst the sleek, dark wood, though he’s quick to distract her from it with a warm palm on her back and an easy smile.

“Reservation’s at seven so we have a little time to rest up if that sounds good to you?” His hands thread together around her waist, pulling her close enough to lay a kiss to her forehead.

“Is this your very nice way of telling me I look tired?” That’s another thing she’s learned about him, just how easy it is to throw him off, make him blush, a nervous laugh bubbling up in his chest.

“No, I just know how hard you’ve been working lately to get your school year wrapped up and– and at the club–” She gives him a look that he knows means don’t start. He had brought it up last week over the phone, when she couldn’t say yes to dinner plans because of a shift at Pandora’s.

“Well what if– what if you didn’t have to work anymore?” 

“That’d be amazing, and while we’re at it, I’d also like a unicorn. It’s just not a possibility for me right now, Marc, I’m sorry.” 

“But what if it was a possibility? I mean, what if I–”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I have a pretty good idea actually. And my answer is no. Thank you, Marcus, really, but I’m not letting you spend any more money on me than you already are. I’m a big girl, baby, I can handle myself.” 

He had let out a huff at that, but had begrudgingly let it go, though he has been dropping hints all week about his discontent with how much she’s still working, subtle, but prickly. But he holds his tongue now, smile simpering beneath his scruff as she slips her palms from his chest up to twine behind his neck.

“What I really want right now is a long shower. I feel like I’m covered in goo from the kids I was working with today.” His smile broadens at that, one of his hands slipping up to ghost along her collarbone

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but–” He gently scrapes his thumbnail along the top of her sternum, bringing away flecks of dried paint that she groans at.

“Oh my god, how did I miss that? I swear, these practicum hours make me rethink my career choice every time.” It’s an easy moment, a sigh and a smile shared that’s abruptly interrupted by his phone ringing, shoulders slumping as he reaches into his suit pocket to pull out his thrumming Blackberry, offering her a sheepish smile when he checks the caller ID before answering it.

“This is Agent Pike.” She presses a kiss to the corner of his jaw before slipping out of his hold as he starts talking quietly to whoever it is on the other end of the phone, showing herself upstairs with her bag in hand. She knows her way around by now, padding into his bedroom, only a little surprised by the garment bag laid out on his bed, shoebox resting on the ground next to it.

Just a peek, she unzips the garment bag, letting her hand run over the fabric inside, and quickly realizes that wherever they’re going to dinner tonight must be fancy, black silk slipping underneath her palm. She’ll have to scold him for it later, but for now, she’s too focused on washing off whatever little kid shmutz she managed to pick up during the day, making a beeline for his bathroom to get the water warmed up. 

She groans when she steps under the warm water, sore muscles unraveling with the heat. There had been a few clients this week who had been particularly physical, and she’s certainly feeling it now. It’s rare for her to have to end a session early, most clients respectful and happy to follow the club’s rules, but one man in particular had obviously not been interested in being compliant, so much so that she had to call her boss in to escort him off the premises. She hadn’t been too phased by it though, just pissed more than anything else. But she’s been doing this for long enough to not let these things affect her, letting the majority of her good, easy to work with clients drown out the rare rotten one. And it isn’t like she’s going to be doing this for much longer either. One more year of school and she’ll be able to trade in her time at the club for a teaching license and a much different life. 

“Did that happen at work?” She all but jumps out of her skin, Marcus’ voice startling her out of her thoughts as she turns to find him slipping into the shower with her, his bareness still sending her mind into a sweet haze. But she’s quick to snap out of it when his hand brushes over the bruise blooming on her thigh, his brow furrowing even more when she winces at the sensation.

“Oh, that? Um, yeah, but it’s no big deal, someone just got a little too worked up, that’s all.” He doesn’t like that one bit, his jaw shifting in a grind as he looks at her.

“Is it– are you ok?” She offers him a smile, tugging him closer so she can slip her palms over his chest, his hands settling on the curve of her waist.

“I’m fine, Marc, I promise. No harm, no foul.”

“Looks like harm to me.” He says it absentmindedly, his eyes still trained on the bruise, words a low murmur, his nostrils flaring as he takes a sharp inhale. 

“Hey, I said I’m fine, alright? Let’s get cleaned up, babe, don’t worry about it.” She knows it’s a bit of a move, leaning in for a kiss that she easily deepens, trying to steer his mind away from worry and succeeding when she coaxes a little groan out of him with the way she tugs at his hair. But he’s not interested in pulling away too soon, licking hotly into her mouth, swallowing the gasp she lets out when her back meets the cold tile of the shower, a heady contrast to the way his body presses against her, slick and warm in the rising steam. He’s certainly gotten more confident with her, and while she likes this side of him, wandering hands and hard kisses, it’s the shyness that still peeks through that makes her heart flip in her chest.

“Wanna taste you. Can I, please?” She slicks his wet mop of hair back out of his face, a smile crooking across her lips as she nods.

“Mmhmm, I’m all yours. Want you to make me feel good.” She hadn’t been expecting him to drop down to his knees right then and there, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up in her chest when he does, his hands holding her firm and steady by her hips as he lays open-mouthed kisses across her stomach. But that laugh fizzles out when he dips his head lower, letting his mouth drag over the bruise on her thigh, making her cry out when he presses a hard kiss to it, like he’s trying to stamp it out with his lips. He doesn’t linger there long, laying a much sweeter kiss over the mottled skin before letting his mouth slide up to where she really wants him.

…

“Can you do me up?” She watches him in the mirror as he steps behind her, a low hum in his throat as he slips the zipper of her dress up. It’s perfect, classy, a smooth, simple slip that rests just at her shins and practically drips off the curves of her body it fits so well. He always gets it right, and she’s always surprised that he does. 

“You look beautiful. And I have one thing to add.” She catches the glint of it in the mirror, his hands arcing over her head to bring the delicate necklace to rest against her clavicle. A string of diamonds that matches her bracelet. Before she can say anything, he presses a kiss to the side of her neck, his hands dropping down to smooth over her hips.

“Look like a million bucks, baby.”

“I better not be wearing a million bucks right now.” She says it jokingly, but when he doesn’t respond, only quirking an eyebrow at her, she turns in his hold with a scoff.

“Marcus, I swear to god, if you–”

“I’m kidding. Don’t worry about the cost, huh? Just think of it as a little– end of the school year gift, that’s all.” All she can do is let out a sigh, getting to work on his loose tie as he looks down through his lashes at her. He looks like a million bucks too, sleek, black suit over a crisp button-up, the scent of his cologne wrapping her up as she shimmies his tie into place.

“Well, thank you for the gifts. If your goal is to spoil me completely rotten, I’d say you’re succeeding.” His smile turns into a grin at that, stealing a quick kiss as she smooths down the collar of his shirt.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now c’mon, knowing you, you probably worked right through lunch and are starving right now. Let’s get some dinner in you.”

…

“Please follow me this way, Mr. and Mrs. Pike, your table is ready for you.” She nearly chokes at what the waiter calls them, though Marcus takes it in stride, offering her a smile and shrug as he guides her further into the restaurant with a palm on her low back. 

She was right, it’s fancy as hell, all dim lights and rich, wood tables, men in suits and their wives decked out in their finest. And it only dawns on her that they fit right in once they’re actually seated at their own table, her eyes glancing around at this strange game of adult dress-up. 

“We’ll do a bottle of your Riesling and one of your Shiraz as well, thank you.” White for her, red for him, he doesn’t even have to look at the menu to put in the order, and she can’t figure out just why that’s so hot. 

“Did you hear about that new installment coming downtown? They’re calling it a revival of abstract expressionism meets modern minimalism. Apparently it’s hot.” She grins at the dramatic wag of his eyebrows as he speaks, leaning in closer to respond.

“I hadn’t heard about that, no. Sounds like whoever it is, they’re trying to do it all. We’ll have to go check it out, huh?” An outsider looking in on their relationship would be hard pressed to figure out just why they mesh well together, a decade apart and coming from two completely different worlds. But they come together well in peculiar ways, art being one of them. Marcus could talk for hours about the history, styles and forms rising and falling with time, and she can too, while also applying it all in her own work as a painter, something that he loves to hear her talk about, her process and projects. She’s still not sure why he’s so well-versed in it all, with such a keen eye, especially given her very vague understanding of his work as some sort of big wig FBI boss, but she loves that they can talk like this about something that bores most of her friends. They’ve gone out gallery hopping a few times together and, grand gestures and fancy dinners aside, it’s probably her favorite thing to do with him, wandering around downtown and seeing whatever art they can find.

Dinner starts to pass languidly by as they slip into conversation about the new gallery opening, unfurling into her own projects that she’s hoping to submit for showings once they’re finished. But as dessert is laid before them and her attention is drawn away from Marcus for a moment, her eyes land on someone across the restaurant, and her stomach sinks. While Marcus thanks the waiter, she can’t take her eyes off the man across the room, sitting with his wife, wearing the same suit he had on when he came into the club earlier that week, the same suit he left in when her boss kicked him out for not following the rules. And in a sickening twist, his eyes meet hers, an all too clear flash of recognition behind the smug grin that spreads across his face. 

“Are you ok?” Marcus’ voice snaps her attention back to him and she tries to coax a smile onto her face, though she can’t help the way her eyes jerk over his shoulder and back to the man who’s still staring her down. And when she gives him no answer, Marcus finally cranes his neck around to see just what it is she keeps looking at.

“Do you– do you know him?” He looks back over his shoulder at the man who has finally stopped staring now that it’s caught Marcus’ attention. But before she can make some sort of excuse up, Marcus’ face falls in clear realization.

“Oh, I see. He’s one of your clients, isn’t he?” 

“Fortunately, not anymore, he’s not.” It comes out before she can even think to stop herself, something dark flashing across Marcus’ face at her words.

“Are you telling me he’s the one who did that to you?” She doesn’t need an explanation to know what he means when he says that, her hand subconsciously going to rest over her thigh where the bruise lies beneath her dress. She feels frozen in place, her mind going blank as Marcus stares at her, his jaw hard-set and his eyes swimming. And when she gives him no response, he scoffs, turning in his seat, clearly ready to get up and march across the restaurant to where the man and his wife are just getting up to leave.

“Marc, don’t. Just– for me, please, don’t.” She wills him to stay in his seat with her hand placed over his on the table, letting out a sigh when he ultimately turns back around with a huff.

Total silence and downturned eyes, he’s quick to get the check and get them on their way back to his house. A cold prickle runs up her spine as they drive when his hand that normally rests easy and warm on her thigh remains on the wheel, not even a glance her way, his jaw ticking with what she can only assume is anger. And when they do get back to his place, and the silence continues, Marcus going into the kitchen to fix himself a drink without so much as looking at her, she assumes that it’s finally become too much for him, that she had been stupid to think this could work. She quickly and quietly slips into his bedroom, first placing her shoes back in the wrapping-paper-lined box before unfastening her bracelet and necklace and laying them on his dresser, though she figures they were never really hers to begin with. Her bag next, tucking back inside the things she had already unpacked before getting to work on the zipper of her dress. 

“What are you doing?” She turns to find him standing in the doorway, lips parted and brow furrowed, and suddenly a thick heat creeps up her throat, stealing any strength from her voice.

“I thought I should probably go.” His face scrunches up at that and he steps further into the room, closing the distance between them, though he hesitates to reach for her, his hands flexing by his sides. 

“What do you– what do you mean go? Where are you going?” 

“Home, Marcus, I’m going home. I understand if this is too much–” 

“That’s not– it’s not too much. I just– I hate it, ok? I really fucking hate it.” His tone is sharp, clipped, an edge of frustration that she hasn’t heard from him before and it makes her pause before asking him the only thing she can think of.

“My work? That’s what you mean? You hate my work?” He drags a hand through his hair, letting out a hard exhale as he shakes his head.

“I mean– yes. I hate that you have to put up with shit like that, with men like that. I hate that I lie in bed at night wondering what you’re doing and what person you’re doing it with, or to– fuck, I hate all of it. But I think what I hate the most is that you feel like you have to do it. And you’re too proud to let me get you out of it, something that I would be beyond elated to do, by the way.” Finished with his rant, he lets out a bitter laugh, the sound only fueling the anger she feels rising like bile in her throat.

“Oh, so what? Your solution is for you to just swoop in and– and play the fucking hero? Are you gonna put me on retainer, Marcus? Is that your plan? Just throw money at me so I’ll fucking stick around?” It’s awful, poison on her tongue that she doesn’t even mean, not really, and when he looks at her, face stricken and eyes glistening, any fire fizzles out into a sad whimper in her throat. 

“Is that really what you think of me? That I’m just, what? Trying to buy you?” She keeps her mouth pressed in a thin line, afraid of what might come spilling out if she doesn’t, watching him slump down on the edge of the bed with a tired laugh.

“I just want to take care of you, that’s it. And I have the means to do it and fuck, I’m sorry if that comes across as me throwing money at you. But this is what I know how to do. I can take care of you, and I want to, and I wish that you’d let me.” Silence settles between them, thick and formless. Looking at him, his face tilted down to his hands in his lap, the curve of his frown, she feels herself being tugged toward something that, deep down, she knows is a terrible idea. 

Barefoot, her half-unzipped dress hanging loosely on her shoulders, she pads over to him, standing between his legs, though he doesn’t look up until she coaxes him with her palm tucked along his jaw. 

“I’m sorry, Marcus. That wasn’t fair, what I said. I just– I need you to try to understand this from my perspective. If I did– if I let you take care of me like that, I couldn’t help but feel trapped, and I’m sorry, I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but it has to be said. I’d feel like you’d have this– this thing hanging over my head and–” “I would never hold anything against you. That’s not how I work, and this isn’t some game to me. Fuck, I think you’re brilliant, alright? And I want you, so badly. I want you safe, and not having to worry about all this shit. I want you with me.” 

“But what happens when you don’t want me anymore? What happens when I’ve quit my job and I’m dependent on you and one day you decide that you’re done with this, with me? What happens when the floor falls out from under me, Marc?” 

“I’m not going to let that happen.” She can’t help the scoff she lets out, her hand falling away from his face as she takes a few steps back. 

“That’s really easy to say right now, but one day this isn’t all going to be so new. What happens–” He cuts her off, standing up and taking her face in his hands, his eyes clear with a confidence that makes her shiver.

“If that time comes when either of us want to walk away, you have my word that I will make sure you land on your feet. I wouldn’t let you fall like that, I wouldn’t do that to you.” They’re nice words, words she wants to believe, though she can’t shake that feeling in her stomach like she’s about to go into complete free-fall. 

“I’m asking you to trust me, that’s all.”

“That’s a lot, Marc.” His thumb is a soothing arc along her cheek, and she feels that same pull toward whatever this brink is that she’s about to tip over with him.

“I know, fuck, I know. But if you let me, I will give you everything, anything you want, anything you need. I just need you to trust me.” There’s nothing but certainty in his expression, and although there’s a part of her that wants to step away, to get out before she’s tangled up, she chooses not to listen to it, instead stepping over that edge and sending them both spiraling as she closes the space between them and presses her lips to his. 

Where he deals in diamonds and dresses and dollars, care of a particular kind, she holds sway in sweat and skin and sensation, a delicate balance of power held in each other’s palms. Here, now, in the dim light of his bedroom, she holds dominion, no permission needed for the way her hands coax his tie undone, his jacket off, layer upon layer removed as she wills it. And when he finally stands before her in just his briefs, she guides his hands to the straps of her dress, letting him do the rest as the sleek fabric slips into a puddle around her feet. It never gets old, the way he looks at her, how his eyes darken, flickering heavy and hooded over her body, the way his throat bobs when his gaze finally finds hers.

“Could you– will you, um, will you wear those, for me?” He nods his head over to his dresser, to where she had laid out the jewelry he gave her, and she finds herself smiling at his timid request.

“Why don’t you put them back on me, baby?” He does, first clasping the bracelet around her wrist, laying a kiss to the jump of her pulse before delicately laying the necklace against her sternum, the cool bite of the chain causing her to shiver as he takes a step back to look at her, now dressed in nothing but a pair of panties and those glittering gifts.

“Lay down for me.” His eyes don’t leave her as he does, catching every move as she slips her panties down her legs before crawling up the bed to settle in his lap, her thighs framing his hips. It’s smooth and simple, a call and response in the way he tilts his chin up to meet her dipping down, open mouths willing and receiving of what the other is giving, a hot press of tongues and teeth. She grinds her hips down hard, letting the slick heat of her cunt drag over his boxers, his cock already straining against the fabric. 

“Tell me what you want, baby, and it’s all yours.” She seals her words with a nip of her teeth over the hinge of his jaw, smiling against his skin when he lets out a long sigh as she continues to roll her hips with his.

“Just want you, fuck, wanna feel you, wanna be inside you, please.” Her smile goes cheshire bright at his breathless words, and she lets her hands slip down to drag along the waistband of his boxers.

“Always so polite for me, Marcus. Love that about you, gonna give you what you want.” A tap of her fingers to his hip is all he needs to shift so she can shrug his boxers down his legs, his cock resting flushed and heavy against his stomach as she settles herself back in a straddle over his hips, hovering just over where he really wants her. She can only tease him so much when she wants him just as bad as he wants her, so she wastes no time in bringing her palm to his throbbing length, dragging the tip of him through her dripping cunt before sinking down on him in one, languid, stretch. They both let out sighs that slip into moans as she stills with her hips seated against his, his fingers tensing and flexing into the curve of her ass where his hands are splayed. Still settling into the feel of him, a fullness that makes her head swim, she lays a smattering of kisses into his hair, coaxing his face up from where he had his forehead pressed against her sternum, his lips finding hers in a hot drag as she starts to move her hips. 

It starts slow and sweet, finding an easy rhythm of riding him that has them both sighing at the slick drag. Marcus dips his head down, mouthing at the tops of her breasts, making her gasp when his teeth graze over the peak of one of her nipples, her back arching into his touch. But she snaps that sweetness into a snarl all at once, dragging her fingers back through his hair, tugging harshly to tilt his head back, a groan breaking in his chest as she starts to bounce on his dick.

“Want you to listen to me while I fuck you, baby, can you do that for me?” He nods his head as best he can with her fingers still tangled in his hair, holding his gaze steady on her.

“Yes, fuck– I can– can listen, just, please keep doing that.” She grinds her hips down on a particularly hard bounce, his eyes rolling back in his head as she continues to ride him.

“I’m gonna trust you. I’m choosing to trust you. But let me make a few things very clear to you.” She tries to keep her voice steady, stern, though it still comes out a bit breathless with the way she’s working herself on his throbbing cock, biting back a whimper as he grazes that just right spot inside her.

“I am not going to be your pet, do you understand me? That’s not what this is going to be. If you want a kept woman, find someone else.” He lets out a slurred chant of ok and I understand intermixed with a few choice curses, his blunt fingernails digging half-moons into her ass, hips canting up to meet hers with each bounce.

“I like you, a lot. And I want to be with you, fuck– and I’m grateful for what you’re giving me–” A broken moan keeps her from finishing her sentence, sensation starting to make her thoughts swim when he plants his feet into the mattress to start thrusting harder, their hips mashing together every time, pleasure settling heavy and tight in her spine.

“But I’m still going to work– not at Pandora’s– but a more, christ– normal job. Making my own money. I’m not going to be some– credit-card swiping– spoiled little– trophy girlfriend.” Each phrase is said with another pass of her hips, both of them letting out sharp gasps with each thrust, and she holds it together just long enough to get out what she wants to say, finally letting go of her grip in his hair, instead pressing her palms into his chest to get him to lay down fully as she seeks out that snapping point of pleasure. Marcus brings a hand around, his thumb finding her clit in a hot drag that sets a moan loose in her chest, her cunt spasming around his cock.

“I understand, I do, I swear. Please, baby, wanna feel you– want you to come so bad. Let me have it– let me have it all.” She unravels with his rasped-out pleas, back arching in a perfect curl of pleasure as his hands guide her in a close grind, following after her with a clipped groan of her name, the warmth of him making her shudder as she slumps down against his chest. They lay like that for a while, skin sticking slick, their heaving chests pressing against each other in a shared rhythm as he runs his palms up and down her spine. A silent understanding sealed in sweat and salt.

“So you’ll– you’re gonna stay?” She could laugh, it’s such a ridiculous question for him to ask after she just all but rode him to hell. But when she lifts her head to meet his gaze, seeing the very serious scrunch of his brows, that laugh dies in her throat with the realization that he’s genuinely asking, and genuinely worried about the answer. Ducking down, she first presses a kiss to his chest before leaning back up to slot her lips with his, simple and sweet.

“I’m not going anywhere, Marcus, I promise.”

…

“Are you gonna get that?” Marcus looks at her over the rim of his coffee mug, brow quirking at her question. 

“Why don’t you go see who it was?” She snorts at that, watching his eyes flicker as he takes another swig of coffee.

“Uh, I’m not wearing pants. And also, I’m not the one who lives here.” He’s putting on a show, she knows it, humming as if in thought at her statement, the corners of his lips twitching in a stifled smile.

“It’s early, baby, no one’s gonna see. Just go take a look for me, huh?” He can no longer hold back his grin, going all crooked with whatever scheme he’s got cooked up for her. 

“Alright, fine, I’ll play along. But you’re cheesy, you know that, right?” 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She huffs at him, finally getting up from the kitchen table to pad over to the front door. She figures it’s probably flowers, or maybe another garment bag for whatever he has planned for them today. Not wanting to give Marcus’ neighbors a show, she cracks the door just enough to peek her head out, her jaw dropping at what she sees.

“Oh my god.” Silver, glossy, and gleaming in the early morning light. A sleek silhouette, and that unmistakable hood ornament perched right over the front grille, the Mercedes Benz insignia shining proudly. And on the roof of the car sits the biggest, gaudiest red bow she’s ever seen. 

“What do you think?” She turns around to find Marcus standing behind her, a set of car keys dangling from one of his fingers, grinning from ear to ear. 

“I think you’re lucky you’re cute. Seriously, Marcus, this is– this is–” He cuts her off with a smacking kiss, pressing the car keys into her hand as he does.

“This is me taking care of you. No more metrorail, no more bus. You’re gonna be a woman who drives from now on.” 

“I– you– you’re not gonna take no for an answer, are you?” He tilts his head at her, eyes crinkling up as he slips his arm around her waist, pulling her away from the door and into his chest.

“On this? No, no I’m not.” It’s just a touch of arrogance, in the slant of his smile, the way he hums a laugh when she shakes her head at him, giving a half-hearted smack to his chest. 

“Hmm, well aren’t you something else.”

“Oh baby, I’m just getting started.”

[whompthatsucker1981]

been thinking abt the gay sex cats post again. while the original point of the post is something for shits and giggles i would say to my art classmates after class, in extreme summary it still kinda stands, popular post making me wanna bash my head against the wall notwisthstanding. even if i hadn't put out a wall of text that was fueled by 1. being a few days out of the surgery table and still on various medications, 2. having read billy bat in two days and therefore having a fuck ton of thoughts about art, and 3. being immensely frustrated that people unironically used human soul of art spark of creativity etc as a talking point wrt generative art; the gist of my point is that you can't win any discussion about what gets to be art by appealing to idealist ideas of soul, creativity, or genius. it's been settled for more or less a century now. a tool is a tool, art can be made out of anything, and the medium is part of the message. end of that post.

of course the regret of anyone that has put out a popular post in whatever Discourse there is is that you can't leave a post scriptum disclaimer that yeah. of course this isn't the entirety of the subject. because everyone that has ever written a post never made a second post because the first covered everything. lol. that's why it continued in my askbox. as in, the issue with quote unquote ai art isnt philosophical or metaphysical, but of labor, and that it is as in marxist division of labor, not whatever people with small business owner brain make it out to be centered on copyright and potentially owed royalties that gets called an issue of labor. ai art is a threat as long as it is a tool in the hands of capitalists to hold working artists hostage. it's not the first tool to be used like that against laborers in art (and obviously other laborers too, but since people have bad idealist views on art it's what gets seen as more of an issue and an outrage lol) and it certainly won't be the last. tighter copyright laws wouldn't have saved any individual artist to ever upload works publically online, if anything abolishing copyright, even if just in regards to generative art would make it so the tool loses its leverage against the worker. also copyright as an argument misses the point because it's not a problem of any person uploading images missing out on royalties they could have earned with use of their images, if there's anything we were supposed to have learned from the nft shitshow is that right click saving isn't fucking stealing. art exists in The Age Of Mechanical And Digital Reproduction. what's more damning is that we take for granted that publically avaliable images and data online are able to be bought and sold from third parties to other parties for fun and profit in the first place, data privacy is more of an issue to machine learning than supposedly lax copyright law could ever be

and the things unsaid are the most frustrating; i did hammer home the point that you can't win an argument on art and meaning by appealing to creativity, soul and genius, but it was at the cost of having things unsaid, and that having a post become popular sucks ass in an unbelievable way. i also have regrets with regards to my tone but i was a bit silly from having read all of billy bat in two days, so even if i cringed afterwards i understand why. and with that is also the unsaid matter of taste. unlike the actual political arguments, i'm not mad that it got passed on, and i think it's better to say my two cents now with some hindsight. the gimmick of ai art is getting old now, people without art education are realizing that a program that can output pretty pictures doesn't mean you can get instant clout and a career out of it, especially with public opinion on the subject ranging from people cringing at it or being actively hostile. in the end artisanal artstation/instagram slop is gonna prevail over ai generated artstation/instagram slop in the content machine, especially since the idealistic views on art also include upholding the grindset. i think the only people left that are gonna keep relying on generative art are people with an insatiable fetish, people who think there aren't enough thomas kinkade paintings to use in their facebook posts, people who understand the comedic value of slop, and people with enough patience to mess with with image processing softwares as to get something satisfactory out of it, which is to say, artists.

[aevallare]

🍓 🥑 🧸

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

i don't even remember lmao.

the first fanfiction i remember writing was fullmetal alchemist fanfiction in a little notebook i guarded preciously. i'm talking with my life. it went with me everywhere. i think i was ten (altogether too young to be watching fullmetal alchemist). i just kept thinking about how wonderful it would be if the story didn't have to end.

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

i have many ride or die mutuals but the one who comes to mind is @mutualcombat because i think she would let me use dental tools to dismember the body

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

just. be normal? i don't know i know that sounds rude but so many people act like they don't even realize i'm a person anymore. they just want the next thing i'm going to publish. and that fucking sucks. i try to be open and friendly and it bites me in the ass all the time. i don't want it to. so maybe just be nice.

[electrohazard]

the text tool in krita sucks ass ongggg

[geraldinesgarbagepit]

not Exactly slop. longass ramble about an art/creation thing that annoys me a lil

Alright, so.

My mentality on art/creation has kind of changed a lot in the past few years, I'd like to think it was for the better? I have a pal to thank for that change in mindset; osmosed that while he was giving advice to another friend of mine.

One of the biggest takeaways being: DO IT MAKE YOUR SHIT OR NO ONE ELSE WILL DO IT EVEN IF IT SUCKS YOU NEED TO MAKE THIS NOW OR IT WILL NEVER EXIST.

There's definitely a better way to phrase it, but that's the jist of it, right? Where am I going with this?

Well, it's something that's always kind of broke my heart art-wise in the past, but now it's something that I find myself growing oddly spiteful over nowadays?

That being: people who never try to do anything.

Once again, there exists MUCH BETTER, more empathetic ways to phrase this, but I'm spitting out thoughts and I'll continue to vomit them up until I feel this wall of text is sufficient enough.

(i do empathize with that though dysfunction suuuucks ass man)

Anyways, the focus of my attention isn't on dysfunction, but rather complacency. Getting stuck in a repetitive cycle that just Completely stunts artistic growth.

This mostly applies to a certain "genre" of person I've been exposed to in my life, and if by happenstance you know what I'm referring to, apologies if this hits close to home? I'm not saying anyone's gotta be pumping out Hyperdetailed Megashit Terabyte Masterpieces or anything, but pushing yourself every now and then is like, the only way you're gonna get better at something y'know?

Which is why in recent years, it's been annoying seeing these same people continue to rely on the same character creator tool for fuckin yeaaaaaaaaaaaaars man.

Like I understand using one to get an idea for a design, right? That's fine and dandy, more power to you. But if every single one of your character ends up looking Exactly The Same because there's like Only One Fucking Template it just ends up looking like this to outsiders.

Of course this is neglecting if they're like, solely using them to commissioning others, so take it with a grain of salt.

It's such a benign thing to get pissed at yeah, but I won't lie! It just makes my skin crawl sometimes! Especially the specific character creator being used. I feel like I wouldn't mind as much if it were a picrew or Literally Anything Else.

maybe it's just the character creator i'm mad at then? dunno. at least it's not ai.

Point is, everyone can make art. It came free with your humanity.

Please don't squander that latent creativity in your soul by relying on these tools forever. You can make something, even if it seems impossible. Pick up a pencil. Chalk. Pen. Fucking ANything PLEASE for the love of god MAKE SOMETHING.

[plasmalink]

Asuka Spells Tier List (from a floor 9 player)

Because I can't find an Asuka discord, and barely hear about people talking about the character, I'm putting myself out here to talk about his spells.

warning! long ass text ahead!!!!

S - Mana regen is by far the best spell. It gives you so much more leeway on offense and defense, and easily pays for itself. This is the main reason to go into Test Case 3 IMO. Lets you regain resources just by playing defensively without needing to commit to recovering mana. Green cubes are also fantastic in neutral, usually forcing your opponent to block or commit to something huge. Gives you a moment to breathe, and it catches people way more than I'd expect. Auto Import is also huge, the other half of exodia (the former being regen) that allows you to just go NUTS with your spells. However, it fucks with my muscle memory not needing to redraw spells, meaning I frequently cast a spell, then discard the spell I just got. Oops.

A - All of these are really close. Blue cube is just a really nice, fast projectile that establishes a threat. Accipiter metron is great both if your opponent does or does not read your spells, either threatening or surprising an overhead. The bounce is huge too, giving you plenty of time to confirm into a full combo. I don't think many other characters have fast grounded overheads into full combo. Screamer just WINS round start. There's enough in TC1 to be somewhat consistent about it, too. It's also fantastic at just catching the opponent pressing buttons, or low airdashes, not even mentioning its guard crush. Fire cubes are great, but their levelling system makes them a little bit awkward to use at times. Still, a consistent level 4 or 5 fire cubes would make S tier easy. Terra metron is actually like, way better in the air? Even though it's no longer a low, it just hits at such a weird angle and distance that nobody expects, also with a nice pop-up. Works great on the ground too, but you already have your e-sports 2D in a similar niche, though with less reward. Electric cube I find is a bit worse than the speedy blue cube, but not by much. Fantastic if you're already in a combo, but it losing to a single hit or projectile makes it slightly sad in neutral. Mana discount is store brand mana regen. Similar end result, but while Mana Regen lets you take your time, get you out of mana-less state faster, and even works while you're getting comboed, discount only does anything when you are casting spells. Nice if you've already gotten a solid footing, but sometimes doesn't help.

B - Restock is nice. It's saved my ass quite a few times when I had no meter and no spells. It's also sat on my spell bar doing nothing because I have other spells I don't need to refill (Or worse, I have like two staves I can't find a moment to discard/cast). Tardus metron is mainly an Oki tool, but a very good one. The fact that it still dies in one hit or projectile gives it limited neutral use, but it certainly does lock down an opponent. Also fun when you have a staff down. Teleport is pretty situational, and I think 4 is too many copies of it in TC3. I don't like having more than two in hand at once. It raises Arpeggio and itself both a full tier when you have both, though. Great against people who don't read your spells. Boost zap is kind of a worse screamer? I rarely see it outside of level 1. Still, a worse screamer is still pretty nice. I think it's also possible to combo from midscreen? Though going fullscreen with screamer is also perfectly fine for Asuka. Arpeggio is undoubtedly cool as FUCK. However, it's slow and expensive (24% mana! That's 3 blue cubes!) to cast. Sampler is okay. Copy of the next spell you cast. Also fucks with my muscle memory like auto import. I wish it was in the same test case as Accipiter, it would be very funny for multiple overheads in a row. Aquila kind of sucks but it's also very nice to have, if that makes sense? Your only invincible move, metered or otherwise. Very nice against people who DO read your spells, as they might opt to forgo meaties on your wakeup unless they have a safejump.

C - It's hard to be mad at chaotic option, it does have some nice ass spells, but I'd also much rather just draw those spells in the first place rather than needing to cast this to draw them though. Suck staff is the funniest one, lets you perform the most heavily scaled combos known to man. One thing I'll say about all the staves though, it's annoying to have to actually cast them. They take about as much time as an electric cube, and sometimes my hand gets clogged with them and I need to manually discard them. Fast staff gives you some nice guard crushes, makes your pressure up close very nice and very annoying from afar. Slow staff is worse than fast staff, but it makes people freeze up when they see a wall of cubes, giving you plenty of time to get your shit in order and regenerate some mana. Nice after a burst. Instant mana, I don't like very much. The mana boost is appreciated, but leaving yourself without spells sucks. 53% mana on an otherwise empty hand isn't bad though. Use it when you have 50 meter to go into full order. Random import does address my issue of being stuck with 2 staffs and a teleport in your hand, but the fact that it doesn't import on empty slots hurts it.

D - Repel staff, meh. Don't like it much. Still kind of funny though Down staff: Has that instant overhead with Jump D, but I still struggle to find much use. Up staff: boing! good against may maybe? Or anyone else who really likes jump-ins?

Alright, that's the list. Any other Asuka players, feel free to light me up.

[serenitywinter-twe-if]

I'm really interested in romancing elias or miloslav i love pain and I can't wait for the demo! Is it possible to give little fun facts about each of the ROs?

Hello Anon 🌞

I will publish a mood board for each of them soon~

In the meanwhile yes, you can have fun facts about them 🤭

So here goes, two funny facts about the ROs.

Elias

...hates board games. Because he absolutely sucks at it. Like it's almost as if he does it on purpose. The only one he can tolerates is snakes and ladders because he thinks only the dice matters. But hush, don't tell him even dice can be tricky. 🤫

But, he is good at beer pong.

Fact 2: He enjoys cooking. He's good at preparing simple dishes because he likes to cook whenever his daughter comes to visit. (Yes, Elias is a doting father.) What he likes the most is, when it's sunny outside, to make triangle sandwiches and to go on a picnic.

Who knows, maybe he'll take you to one, one day.

Anya

...likes gardening—because she likes to have high quality ingredients for her business—but she is afraid of lizards. If she sees one, she just ends up running, arms raised, throwing her tools around.

Fact 2: She gave a name to all the plants she takes care of. So sometimes, she is standing in her garden, welcoming "Bobby, Gary, Goofyballs, Little Mermaid, Patrick..." but in a whisper. She will not survive if someone heard her wishing a goodnight to "Smartass", her dramaqueen alocasia and "Kiss kiss bang bang" her rosebush.

Bonus: She likes gardening, but she has a developing allergy to pollen. So whenever she gardens at the beginning of summer, she ends up with hay fever.

Sheppard

....are a tsundere. If you try to get them blushing they will end up stuttering which will prompt them to just become even more tensed. And yes, at some point they will just run away.

So, to all the bold Sheppard-mancer out there, good luck 🍀

Beside, they are oblivious to flirting and will just squint at you at first before understanding the innuendos. Even if the innuendos is a real elephant in the room.

Fact 2: Sheppard is the favorite victim of Yu in terms of jokes. To the point that each time Sheppard see them, they tense up immediately because they know they will end up hearing a joke, not understanding it at first and until Yu and Mbaya (unwillingly) will end up laughing.

The thing is, Sheppard don't dislike the jokes. And they know Yu is showing their affection that way.

Bonus : They are so tense that they end up being a real klutz when they walk into a room. A real terror for furniture.

Mbaya

...don't have their driving licence. Or, actually, they do. It's just that they drive so... bad, that it's better altogether when they don't drive at all. But no worries, Yu like to drive, so they always end up picking them up. Otherwise, you can stumble upon Mbaya in public transportation which is funny considering what they are and how old they are 🤭

Fact 2: Mbaya look rafined and all, but they have absolutely no working taste buds. If they say otherwise, they are lying. Upon meeting Yu, they hid this fact to Yu—who caught a cold—who asked them to try some food and see if it was spoiled. No need to say Mbaya, to mess with them, told Yu it was safe and they ended up with food poisoning.

Yu

...have a whole collection of small toy found in candy [insert famouse candy brand with suprise toy, here]. It's their secret. That's why they allow no one in their room. They are quite confident in everything but will end up whishing to be buried six feet down if someone stumbled into their room, see their collection and proceed to laugh their ass off.

+ They have the very famous traffic cone into their room as well, which they picked up from a particularly animated night out. And a full road sign with the metal bar and all. But this one, they don't remember how they got it.

Fact 2 : At home, they wear a robe, a satin cap and slippers. And on Sunday night, it's comedy night on Metflix for them. So they end up never answering to text and such. Sometimes Mbaya join them and bring pop corn with them. Those two are besties.

Owl

...can't handle liquor. Like, one glass is already the one glass too many. So, each time Yu have tried to invite them out drinking—because Yu is everyone best buddy—Owl declines. They of course understood that fact through trial and errors.

Fact 2: Owl sucks with children. Which is surprising when you witness how they are kind of warm with Lukas. But whenever they are near children, Owl becomes tense. Almost to a Sheppard-level tense. But you can witness the best interaction whenever they stumble upon Leah—Elias' daughter. Because she likes them and Owl just runs away.

Bonus: Whenever they remove their gloves when going home, they end up being shocked by static electricity. To the point when they are silently cursing [insert old types of curses here] when they touch door handles or tap water.

Iolrath

...has absolutely no sense of direction when it comes to city/town or any inhabited area. They are an ace when it comes to forested area, but if you see them walking in town, their GPS is their best friend, really.

They are really patient, but each time they must come to the city to grocery shop, they become grumpy.

Fact 2: Iolrath is terrible at finances as well. Like, they have a grocery list but end up buying this and that because it looks funny and they are really curious about "human custom". So they always end up leaving stores with far too much products costing far too much in terms of money. So, their house is like a modern museum of funny articles. Fortunately, Sheppard always give a hand in the money department as it's part of their job but Sheppard really need a vacation at some point.

[drowzyscatterbrain]

​So I had a dream interacting with Wally Darling a while ago-

Was still reeling from it after the next 2 days fr, it’s all kinda blurry now, some details might just be my brain making it up as I type but whatever. (also placed the read more cuz i'm ass at condensing texts & don’t want to make the post too long on dash, either.) cw for some kinda horror description near the end.

Everything felt real, but not at the same time, if that makes any sense. I had my sense of touch and smell, but all of them feels muffled and wonky in some way. Don’t know if dreams are common to have those two senses presence, but anyway-

The dream didn’t take place in the colorful neighborhood, it was a weird place that looked like a hospital and a library smushed together. 

The air smelled like old books and antiseptics, a heart moniter from somewhere beeping constantly. There were hallways and doors like hospitals does, but almost all the walls have bookshelves in them. 

The room we were in was probably the main reading area. It's spacious, has plenty of those long tables with chairs, there were bookshelves standing in rows near the windows, and some walls were covered in books. 

I’m talking about 30cm above ground were all books, almost all the way to the ceiling. 

Felt like the books sucked up all the colors, too. Cuz everything was either pure white or some kind of pale color, then the books were all pretty dark & gives off vibes from a medieval painting.

All except Wally, well kinda. His colors were a bit paler than the official art, but still very vibrant compared to everything else.

All the patients (including me) in there wore hospital gowns, there were plenty of them too. All minding their own business, walking to somewhere, looking for books, sitting down to read, or just sitting...but I can’t see their face. 

Even if I tried to focus, their face remained a blur. It’s like my eyes just decided to censor them. This includes the doctors, nurses, and a couple librarians I saw. Basically just everyone.

Up until I met him, I was walking towards one of those tables, hugging the two books I picked against my chest.

One of them was a thick, black hardback book with a single big golden eye symbol hot stamped on it, the other one was a colorful children’s book, it was old and covered in clear tapes, felt the tape digging into my skin, too. 

Can’t remember much of the book cover other then there’s a chibi version of him near the upper right corner.

So I reached the table, hand on chair about to pull it out, looked up from the books, and there he was. Sitting on the table.

For some reason, he seemed to be made of silicone and metal, his hands and legs were missing, with a bit of wires sticking out and sparks coming out occasionally, but he seemed unaware and was kinda spacing out.

He looked at me 1 second after my eyes are on him. I started talking to him, he replied, this went back and forth for a few moments. Then he lifted his forearms, raptor style, and realized his hands were gone.

He didn’t freak out, he was just like ‘oh’, and got a bit nervous. So I told him to wait and ran off to find any spare parts or tools to help fix him up (I was sure there was a room that has those stuff in the dream). 

I never found that room, didn’t see anything useful on my run, too. Then when I ran out of breath and stopped, I found myself back to the reading room. When I went back to the table, he was all fixed up, now sitting criss-cross applesauce on the table.

I approached, fairly baffled, with a “how did you...?” tumbled out of my mouth, trailing off at the end. And all he replied was “found/borrowed them... somewhere else.” or something like that, while turning and opening/closing his hands, testing them out.

Where did Wally find those parts? how did he fix himself up perfectly in a few minutes with no hands?? I’ll never know.

After a few finger wiggles he looked up from his hands, and thanked me for helping him out. His voice was still monotonic as usual, but I felt his gratitude in every single word. 

Despite the fact that he did all the work, and I basically ended up chasing my own tail with 0 help provided to him. He’s so damn nice, gosh.

Then one of us started another topic, and I eventually sat back down while still talking. The books long forgotten.

During the conversation, I found out the ‘blurry face curse’ applies to him too, but with some twists. I can see his face when I wasn’t directly looking at him. But whenever I looked at anywhere near his head, his face gets blurred up.

I could only vaguely see where his eyes and mouth is(plus nose when he’s in human form), and the blur made my eyes constantly seeing him in different forms, and positions.

Like, at start he was his classic 3ft puppet look, then he moved his head slightly, now he's human, like how Clown drew him in the Pokemon AU and is now sitting across from me, arms folded on the table. 

I spaced out for a second, now he’s back on the table, 3ft again, but in his fleece muppet form. Blinked? He’s across the table again, puppet form and about the same height as me. 

At one point during our chat, the blur even made his face kinda looks like Elvis Presley. (Looked up who he is on Wiki just before bed, might be the cause.)

At around 3/4 of the long chat we were having, I held his face in my hands.

He was back in his 3ft puppet form, leaning a bit closer to me than we first met. I don’t know what I was thinking, or even thinked at all. But I stood up from my seat when he was mumbling to himself and looking elsewhere, reached out, and placed both of my hands on his cheeks. 

His skin felt like silicone with metal underneath and fleece fabric stuffed with cotton at the same time. A bit disorienting, honestly.

Thumbs were about 2cm below his eyes, and I gently stroked his face once or twice before stopping. That seemed to halt his thoughts abruptly, as his eyes widened a bit, his gaze shot straight back to mine. 

A few moments passed, probably processing that I really just went and caressed his face without a word.

Then as I was about to start pulling back from both the confusing texture and the realization kicking in, his response made my brain forgot about them in an almost audible poof:

He closed his eyes, leaned ever so slightly into my left hand, his smile reached his eyes as he let out a few of his unique little laughs. While his hands came up and held mine in place. We stayed like this for a while.

At some point I let go, and he put his hands away, too. Then our chatter started back up again. Now with a bit more positive feelings presence between us.

What officially ended our chat was pretty unexpected, and unpleasant. As it scared us and forced us to find a way out. 

The sunlight from outside started to die down, so did the lights from inside too. And that made the staff members starting to act weird.

Everything except their uniform gradually turned pitch black, like they were ate up by the darkest paint in the world. Their body started to drip like tar and emits soot-like particles into the air, some even grew extra limbs or mutates, with razor sharp claws...and spikes. 

Also they got more and more aggressive the longer it went on, movements became frantic, thrashing and twitching like those faceless nurses from Silent Hill.

Now ‘corrupted’, they started screaming, yelling, begin to throw stuff around and blocking up the corridors with them. At one point the yelling became clear enough to understand, what I heard were basically ‘block up all the hallways and then start killing’. 

The patients started to panic, some of them threw themselves into rooms and locking/blocking up the door, some tried to escape from the windows. But the windows wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard they pried.

Our chatting was cut off by the first shriek, and after we exchanged looks, he hopped off and started speed walking, I got up, went around the table and catching up to him. We held hands as we began to find an exit while trying to remain hidden. 

Despite his height, he was surprisingy fast. As I struggled a bit to keep up with his running.

Also he smelled faintly of fresh apples. Noticed it when I was holding his face earlier, but now it became slightly more noticable. For we were now physically a LOT closer than back in the library. 

He was mostly leading me around, we hid in somewhere squished together a few times, I even scooped him up and bolted once, because he tripped and a staff was closing in a bit too quickly.

The dream started to end when we were just running, at this point, there wasn’t any obstacles in sight. In fact, the whole building kinda just vanished. No screams, no crashes or bangs, nothing. Just white, but we kept going.

The only sound we heard were our own footsteps, echoing across the now completely white void we’re blindly running in.

And then suddenly, my eyes decided to give out. I didn’t slow down, I didn’t let go of his hand. But my vision just kept getting darker, like the lights going out when a movie is about to start, until finally, the blazing white became inky black.

All of my senses soon went with my vision. I was floating in the void, all alone.

And the next thing I knew, I was staring at my bedroom’s ceiling.

[max--phillips]

different anon, but that person didn’t say authors put effort into making the text small. it’s very clear that they were saying fic authors put effort into their work and then format it the way they want. if we want to draw awareness to legitimate issues, we have to actually engage in debate no matter how tiring it is and not do the whole bad faith argument thing. and if you’re not willing to do that, totally fine! but when we make posts like yours we have to expect that type of reaction. sucks, but that’s sadly what it entails. especially on this godforsaken site…

Oooooooh my god. Oh my god. Holy fucking shit oh my god. Could you be more of a condescending tool

1) are you familiar with these things called “exaggeration” and “being frustrated” and “not taking someone being a jackass on anon in your inbox seriously?” Obviously they’re not saying that making text tiny takes effort. My counterpoint to that is that it’s literally one click, and it would not be any more effort to not make your text tiny and hard to read.

2) this isn’t a fucking debate. They were not interested in debating with me. There isn’t a debate in the first place! To suggest that there’s a “debate” to be had about accessibility and whether or not people should make their stuff more accessible, no matter the context, is showing your ableism. I made a post, perhaps in a slightly hostile tone due to the fact I was frustrated, that was asking authors to make their shit accessible to people with visual impairments. That anon came into my inbox telling me they were “disappointed” to see me asking authors to make their works more accessible. They just wanted to be mad I made a post pointing out that tiny text sucks to read.

3) the ask was not drawing awareness to legitimate issues. My post was. If someone wants to have a conversation about how to make their stuff more accessible or has actual genuine questions (or like, any questions at all, bc that ask contained none) on how to do that, I’m happy to engage, but I’m not entertaining someone trying to tell me I’m somehow wrong or rude or whatever for requesting more accessibility.

4) “but when we make posts like yours we have to expect that type of reaction.” Jesus CHRIST you channelled all of the condescension of every WASP mom having a conversation with a service employee in the world in that sentence. Idk who “we” is in this context but I absolutely do NOT have to expect nor tolerate people being assholes to me regardless of what I post! What you’re doing here is tone policing bud!! Quit it!

5) “if you’re not willing to do that, totally fine!” Eat my ass. Don’t presume what I am and am not willing to do.

6) Not that I need to give you my fucking résumé, but I’ve been on this website for 11 years. I know how it operates. I also have the added benefit of having been a queer person on the internet damn near my whole life who has made plenty of posts on various platforms in attempts to draw attention to legitimate issues with all sorts of reactions, and thanks to that experience I’m pretty good at picking up on when someone is wanting to actually engage on the topic (whether it be in good faith or bad), and when someone is just being an asshole. That ask fell squarely in the second category. I can tell because they didn’t ask any questions or suggest they wanted to actually engage in a dialogue. They just wanted to tell me they were disappointed to see me telling people to make their shit more accessible.

In conclusion: go be fucking weird and rude and condescending somewhere else. I’m not a fucking child holy shit I simply cannot get over the sheer amount of condescension in this ask