#which would be much more obscure than this

[the-californicationist]

Hiii

First of all I wanted to thank you for your amazing fics 🤩. They have become a part of my life and I can’t live without them anymore 🥹💖

Secondly, I wanted to ask about a fic if you would consider. 🫶

Price is injured in his thigh and we are a medic. When attending to the wound the tension rises and a little bit of teasing from our part? 😌

Also, Price can’t take us like he wants because of the wound but we can do 69?

Or maybe something more thrilling! I know you are the greatest in ideas and writing! ❤️‍🔥

Thank you a loooot. (*＾3＾）/～♡

Do No Harm

After being shot in the leg, Captain Price is put on strict bed rest by his medic: you. When he threatens to break your orders, you decide to use your rank against him.

AO3 Link

TW: female reader, face fucking, hurt/comfort, come play

When the captain got shot, all hell broke loose. Ghost and Gaz retaliated swiftly, and the bomb that Soap rigged to blow the enemy encampment was more than a little overkill. The four of them had shown up back at your makeshift base, sweaty, bloody, and exhausted. 

“What happened?” You asked the tall lieutenant, searching his face as he removed the skull mask, looking for signs as to how serious it was. 

“He took a hit to the thigh. Dead bloody center,” the tall Brit rolled his captain over, the latter of whom let out a torrid string of curses and shouts, nasty enough to make you blush. 

You inspected the wound, but his clothing was in your way. Ripping your scissors out of your chest armor, you set to cutting him out of his trousers, and you tried not to let the panic get the best of you. 

The truth was that you were keeping a secret. You were sleeping with their captain. You and John had broken a series of rules (and furniture) over the past four months, enjoying each other in the most primal, carnal way. Every night that he was on base, he sneaked into your medbay, aching with something other than pain and searching for his cure. 

You knew it was wrong. It was so far beyond protocol that you wouldn’t be surprised if they court martialed you when they found out, but you didn’t care. You were addicted to him. When he was away for too long, you crawled through the hallways and out into the common rooms with a slick problem between your legs. Something only his fat cock and filthy mouth could solve. 

He was terrible with you. Nothing was off-limits. He used you like a toy, and his fervid want was enough to burn you alive. In the darkness, his grasping hands and hot breath scorched your skin, searing across your belly, pinching your nipples, playing in your lips, all for the express purpose of making you come. It was his favorite thing. By the sixth, the seventh, when you were begging him to squeeze his pulsing rod inside of you, pleading in whispered cries for him to fuck you, he would chuckle with a dark joy. Teasing you, calling you his pretty little plaything, reminding you that you were fully at his mercy. 

It was hard to see him like this, but you were good at your job, and luckily, the bullet had gone right into the muscle. No broken femur, no arterial damage. Your predator would live to hunt you another day. 

“I need everybody out. Come back in an hour,” you commanded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Gaz replied, leading the others out of the clinic to debrief and regroup after a hard night. 

You sliced through his canvas pants, slipping the shears through the fabric to reveal his bare skin. He never wore any underwear, which you were always quick to rib him for. Then, you inspected the wound. They had packed it in the field, and as you removed the dressings, more and more blood pooled out of the hole, obscuring your view. You worked as fast as you could, administering as much anesthetic as you had on hand, knowing that it wasn’t enough. He was doing everything he could not to writhe in pain as you threw stitch after stitch. 

“Jus’ wanted to get me alone, didn’t ya?” He teased you through gritted teeth. His voice was weak, but he was feisty, which was a good sign. 

You smiled down at him, joking around,

“You know it. But, you’re lookin’ a little worse for wear today, Captain. Might have to get my fix somewhere else.”

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, grabbing the side of the table hard enough to make the metal frame whine when you hit a nerve with your needle, “Another man lays a fuckin’ hand on you, and he’ll wish he hadn’t.” 

“Can’t have you reopening this wound, John. I worked hard on these stitches.”

“How’m I gonna sneak in to see you tonight?” He looked up at you with softer eyes, a youthful gaze on his face. 

You pitied him, winking cheekily, 

“Might just have to keep you here for observation.”

His whole body relaxed then, relieved in a way you hadn’t expected. You had just been kidding around, but his reaction made you change your mind. If he felt better with you in your clinic, you’d add it to the orders. The last thing you needed was your headstrong man limping through the base just for a chance at some action. 

You finished up, cleaning the wound and surrounding skin, wiping down the rest of him as best you could. He was filthy, and the water in your bucket was full of sand by the time you were done. But, he still smelled like the sun and his sweat, and it was enough to make the animal part of your mind practically salver at the idea of how his skin must taste. The saltiness, full of his pheromones… you chastised yourself for even thinking about it. 

He was finally asleep, full of morphine and exhausted from his ordeal. Gaz popped back in, and you told him you’d be keeping their commander overnight. You thought you’d gotten away with your little game, but there was a knowing glint in the sergeant’s eye that told you he knew more than you thought. 

You tried not to stress about it. His men were loyal to him, and you knew they wouldn’t rat you out. But, still. You made a mental note to be more careful in the future. 

Your bedtime routine was short and easy. You slipped into some shorts and one of John’s abandoned tee shirts. Luckily, it looked like everyone else’s tee shirt, so no one was the wiser. You could always say you stole a larger one from the supply room. But, it smelled like him, and you slept like a rock when you wore it. 

You climbed into bed, and before you could even think about going to sleep, the ache between your legs reared its horny head, coaxing you to touch yourself, disguising itself as a tingle, an itch that needed to be scratched. As soon as your fingers pried apart your soft petals, you discovered the truth. You were soaking wet, and your core was hot like molten lead, giving your digits no resistance as you played with yourself, slipping them in and out of your slick folds. 

You heard a noise escape from your throat against your will, and you tried to hold it back, rolling your eyes from the slam of pleasure that rushed to your head. You were dizzy with want, and even though you tried to quiet the sound, you could hear your own wet flesh popping and sluicing with more and more of your precome, preparing you for an encounter you knew you couldn’t have. 

You came quickly, and without much warning, clenching down on nothing, biting your hand to keep from screaming for him. You peeked over your shoulder, and luckily, he hadn’t woken up. You thought about how nice it would feel to have his big body curled against you as you crashed into a deep slumber, the scent of your wet hand and his old shirt mixing together and lulling you to sleep. 

There was no way to tell how much time had passed, but when you woke, it was still dark. Your eyes darted over to the clinic table, and John was… missing?

You sat up with a start only to find him fully naked at the end of your bed, getting ready to crawl in beside you. 

“John!” You hissed, “What are you doing? You can’t be walking around.”

“Gotta have you, love. I’m so hard, it hurts.”

“You were shot in your fucking leg, Jonathan Price. Let me see the dressing.”

“Quit fussin’ over me, girl. C’mere,” he covered you with his body and grabbed your wrists, forcing you to lay beneath him, flat and vulnerable. He set to pulling away your clothes, making quick work of it, sighing raggedly when he felt your naked body beneath his own. 

But, he was in pain. You could see him adjusting and readjusting, trying to figure out how he could fuck you like he wanted to, unable to find a solution. 

“John,” you whispered, feeling his mouth on your neck, “We can’t. You’re going to hurt yourself. Don’t make me order you to stop.”

“I’m your commander,” he breathed, threatening you with his teeth, leaving a bruise on your sensitive skin. 

“Don’t…” you gasped as his fingers found your gooey center, “Don’t confuse your rank for my authority, Captain Price. You’re under my care.”

He glared at you, coming to a pause, leaving his fingers in you to play in your hole, gently pulsing in and out, teasing you just enough to keep you on the edge, 

“You want me to stop? Hm?”

The more he teased you, the more hot slick collected on his hands, sticky and clear, covering his fingers and making him harden with every moment. 

Then, he took a sharp breath in through his nose, and paused, hiding his grimace in the crook of his arm. You canted your hips, removing his hand from you, fed up with his defiance, 

“John, that’s enough. If you make me restitch that wound, I will have to do it without drugs. We’re out of anesthetic.”

“Please, love,” he held you close to him, letting you feel his hard length as it rolled against your tummy, making a trail of precome across your skin, “I need you. I’ve missed you so bad. Lemme fuck you. Put my cock in you.”

“Hold on,” you shifted your body so that he would turn on his side. Then, you lay opposite him, your head laying at the foot of the bed, bringing you face to face with his swollen, hungry cock. 

In this position, you could suck him off, and he wouldn’t need to use his thigh. 

You licked your lips, trailing them across his cockhead, collecting his salty pearls of pleasure and wearing them like gloss, suckling from his tip as softly as you could just to taunt him further. 

“Ahhh, fuck…” His sigh was delicious. All of that pain and all of the stress that had made him so tense rushed out of him, making his skin pebble with bliss. 

Without hesitation, John bent his head, pulling your hips to his open mouth, and wrapping your leg under his arm, eating your pussy and groaning with a lurid, feral pleasure. 

The feeling of his soft lips and scruffy beard against your sensitive skin flung you into a spiral of pleasure. You could feel his warm tongue prodding and exploring through you, greedily splitting you to get to your hot, honeyed center. 

You wanted more of his taste, so you went to work, stretching your jaw to accommodate his girth, taking him deeper into your throat, using your tongue to trace a wet circle around his head when you needed to catch your breath, teasing him just beneath his foreskin. When you did, his cock throbbed for you, egging you on, eager to drip its load into your mouth. 

“Fuckin’ hell, love. Gonna make me come,” he threatened. 

Suddenly, you felt his fingers dip back inside of you. He was aggressive with his fondling, shoving two of his thick digits deep inside of you, curling them cruelly to press upon your most pliant, responsive spot. 

As he fucked you with his hand, he let his tongue lap against your clit, making you whine around his dick, muffled by his shaft. You felt his hips begin to thrust forward and back, desperately fucking your throat, getting closer and closer to releasing his orgasm inside of you. 

You couldn’t wait to taste him. You wanted him to use you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but the truth was — as hungry as he was for your body — you needed him just as badly. 

You felt your body begin to tense, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he would have you coming on his hands. He kept his pace, knowing your favorite rhythm, humming to himself as he devoured you, sucking up every drop of your wetness as if he’d never drink from your tight font again. 

Your toes curled, your legs tried to close in on themselves, stopped by his body trapped between them, and something snapped inside of your core, letting loose spiraling sparks of pleasure, breaking you apart over and over, only for each gentle lick from his tongue to put you back together. 

“Mmhm,” he praised you, “Good girl. Just like that. Rub your come on my mouth.”

You did as you were told, no longer in the driver’s seat when it came to your body, fully trained to submit to his will. You shamelessly smeared your pussy across his bearded jaw, humping lewdly against him, all for him to whisper gratefully between licks, 

“Yes, more. More. Give it to me. Fuck my mouth, love. Fuck, I love it. Fuck…”

All the while, he was thrusting into your mouth, deeper and deeper, choking you on his hardness. But, you let him. You allowed him to use you, holding onto his hips for dear life, breathing in every gap that he left, gasping for air, feeling yourself getting dizzy. 

“Are you ready for me?” He groaned, peering down at you between your bodies.

You moaned something you hoped sounded like a yes, and he turned his full attention towards you. You felt his fingers leave your pussy, only to wrap themselves through your hair, sticky and messy, making a strong, merciless grip at the base of your skull. 

He fucked you in earnest, then. It was gratifying to hear his satisfied grunts, and as you felt his cock swell even more, you knew he was about to come. Your mind wanted air, but your body wanted his load. You wanted to feel it slip into your  throat, hot and milky, pouring down your neck like a salacious prize. 

Finally, he went stock-still, and the only thing that moved was his cock. It throbbed inside of you, shooting rope after rope of heavy come down your tongue, painting your mouth white. 

He removed himself from you as quick as he could, pulling your head back up to your pillow, bringing you face to face with him, whispering in an animalistic tone, 

“Lemme see it, pretty girl. Open up. Let me… ahh, yes. That’s it.”

He dipped his finger into your mouth, gathering up his own orgasm onto the tip, smearing it around your lips like he was putting on your makeup. 

You were panting, gasping in the air you so desperately needed, and you tried not to swallow, gathering up as much of his foaming fluid on your tongue as you could, sticking it out for him, showing him what a good girl you could be. 

He took more of it onto his hand and dipped down between your legs, painting your swollen folds with his spend, mixing your come together like some ritual. 

You couldn’t help but whimper. You were overstimulated and raw, and he shushed you, bringing his hand back up to play with your soft nipples, 

“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s okay. Kiss me.”

You felt his mouth crash into yours, and your own heady taste invaded your senses, folding in with his, making your body roll itself against him, begging him for more. 

“Leg already feels better. C’mon, love. Give us the go ahead, hm?”

“I will tie you to this bed, John Price. Don’t test me,” you looked up at him before laying your head on his furry chest, breathing when he breathed, watching his hairy belly rise and fall. 

“Promise?” He chuckled, pulling you closer and holding you there all night, unwilling to compromise, claiming you in every way he knew how. You dozed against him, sated and happy, wondering how long you could keep a secret this good. 

Sorry for the wait! Work is hellish right now, but as soon as this semester is over with, I'll be posting more. Thanks for letting me know your thoughts.

[murdrdocs]

being fucked w a racket (m receiving) (past); childhood friends; bickering; p n v; no spoilers; 1.1k+ words MDNI 18+ w/ PATRICK ZWEIG

he still kisses the same.

demanding, with the same amount of confidence that he carries around in public. the same obscure, borderline inappropriate behavior, that you see in his serve. the newly added beard rubs uncomfortably against your jaw as you let him devour you with his lips. but you don't mind it. in fact, you welcome the burn with just as much acceptance as you do with the sloppy way his tongue meets yours. just like before, the muscle misses your mouth once or twice, leaving a trail along the sides of your lips.

as he throws your top over your head and unbuttons your shorts, you can't help but wonder what else is the same.

patrick has his lips on your neck now, freeing your mouth which lets it roam free.

"you ... you haven't changed, have you?" your breathlessness makes it a little harder for you to speak. you don't even bother attempting to form words whenever he has his mouth wrapped around your nipples. you only speak in the form of praises whenever one of his hands are holding your legs open and the other is between your thighs.

"neither have you," comes his accusation. you make a noise akin to a condescending laugh at first, but then patrick nudges the two fingers he has inside of you to one side just a bit and his fingertips press into a spot that only he knows, and any rebuttal you dared to attempt to make falls short.

it's patrick who has the upper hand then. he laughs into your chest. his dark curls tickle your skin as he continues to move down, lips sloppily smacking into your skin every couple of seconds. when he gets to your cunt, leaking and sucking his fingers in with preparation to do the same for his cock, you expect him to use his mouth on you. you already have your hips adjusted, your legs opened a little further to accommodate his broad shoulders. but he only sits there. he breathes open-mouthed, letting you—making you—feel what you so desperately want. you groan and shift your hips further towards patrick, but he only gives you a peck on your clit and then he's sitting up completely and pulling his fingers out of you.

he has his cock sheathed completely into you whenever you speak again. he's grinding into you, working his cock in ways that only he can, and you feel euphoric. truthfully, this is what you needed. you'd been dreading the possibility of running into him again. you'd been considering canceling your trip back home as soon as you learned he would be here too. but, god, you were glad you got on that plane.

of course, you won't tell him that.

instead, you tell him, "remember that time? with the racket?"

it's phrased like a question, but you know the answer. the same way he knows how good you feel, even if you won't explicitly let him know.

patrick groans in the crook of your neck. he forces his cock up into you with a little more force, either as a warning or as a form of appreciation. you aren't really sure but you like either possibility.

you laugh, throwing your head back which gives patrick just the perfect angle to suck a hickey right in the middle of your neck, with absolutely no regard for how you might feel about the marks.

fucker.

you run your hand through his hair, ignoring the way the front and back are damp with sweat, and tugging through the knots. patrick winces, but he nudges his thighs under yours, lifting you up a bit more. the position allows him to get deeper. you feel like he's in your fucking guts.

patrick is big, you both know it, and he knows what he's doing. he slips a big hand between your bodies, pressing down onto your lower belly.

"you feel that?" his voice is deeper, raspier. he mumbles the question into your jugular, making sure you feel this part of him, too. "you feel me?"

you nod, your voice wobbling more than you would've liked when you respond. "yes, yes, patrick!"

he leans away from you, removing his hand from your stomach to lift your legs by the backs of your knees. he throws your calves over his shoulders and from here, you have the perfect angle of how his abdomen tightens while he fucks you.

he's lost in it, his eyes staring down at the way you take his cock and the way your tits bounce from his thrusts. he lifts a hand, squeezes your nipple, slaps it with his palm, and then delivers that same fate onto your cunt.

you mewl, the crown of your hair rubbing against the mattress as you throw your head back once more.

he has distracted you for just a moment, but you remember.

"you didn't answer my question, patrick."

when he rolls his eyes at you, you can feel your cunt squeezing around him.

"do you," you take your time formulating the question this time. "remember the time," you take his hand from where it rests sprawled over your mound and interlace your fingers. "i fucked you," patrick places his free hand over your ankle, holding your leg still against his shoulder. "with a racket?"

it takes him a second, but he nods. his mouth hangs open, his eyes are lidded in the way that they get when he's tired from a match, his hair sticks to his forehead. he looks so pretty when he's out of it, staring straight at you but not at you. you know he's thinking about it.

when you were both young, patrick was a few years into touring and you were freshly out of college. he had come to visit you, to congratulate you. and congratulations brought drinks, which brought elation, which brought you onto patrick's lap and eventually patrick laid in your bed where he sat next to the racket he gifted you.

we can be like old times, is what he told you then, referring to when you were both teenagers in braces who played against each other to expel the something stirring in your systems. but it wasn't like old times. that was something different. 

he looked so pretty that night, just like he does now. his thighs were spread for you, his eyes staring at the ceiling before you asked him to look at you. he had gotten past the initial discomfort so quickly and when he came, in your mouth since you were feeling generous that night, he came hard.

you grin in the here and now when you say, "want me to do it again?"

[heavenlyvision]

watch pairing: johnny cage/reader wc: 500 warnings: 18+ only, smut, male masturbation (johnny), afab!gn!reader, no use of pronouns or y/n a/n; don't mind me, just having some thoughts tonight! thought i would share! it's short and not very good :( i'm sorry but my brain is small </3 MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

⟢ Johnny had gone away for work; it was no more than a week and he had only one ‘rule’ do not touch yourself while he’s away. He wanted to deprive you and he wanted you to be as needy for him as he was for you but you couldn’t resist ⟢ unfortunately, he knew, you aren’t sure how but you couldn’t even lie, he called it out and he called it right and you were on the spot, and embarrassed and… well you ended up just admitting to it ⟢ which had lead you to… an obscure but effective punishment, he told you to watch him, you weren’t allowed to touch him or yourself, you could only sit near the foot of the bed while he sat leaning against the head of it, his dick in his hand, languidly pumping at it ⟢ you’d shuffled closer to see better and in all honestly, to be as close as possible in case he caved and let you touch him, he had only smiled cockily and tutted at you, “I gave you some pretty clear rules, not many either, only two.” ⟢ you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together while watching him, his dick leaking steadily, his precum dribbling freely from the tip, his hand catching it and using it to stroke at his hard cock. he knew he was effecting you, in a sick way this was giving him a lot more pleasure than he had expected it to, his dick twitching at the hungry look in your eyes ⟢ it felt like your thoughts were slipping away from you as they formed, wet clicking sounds filled the room with his increasing pace, his hips bucked slightly, desperation clawed at his insides. he had missed you so much, excited to share in the depravity together but you had caved and he found that adorable but also somewhat disappointing, only because he missed it ⟢ your panties were getting uncomfortably wet and sticky, your cunt throbbing for him, it was such a spectacularly cruel punishment especially since you had been waiting all week for him to come home and fuck you dumb ⟢ he was enjoying the look in your eyes, the glazed over and impatient expression that was seemingly tearing you apart from the inside out. you were a moment away from grinding down into the mattress in an embarrassingly debauched display ⟢ his abs were pulling tight, his dick jerking with his impending orgasm, his head rolled back against the bed frame lazily, his eyes watching you, your eyes watching his hand move quickly up and down his shaft. your mouth was practically salivating, you made a small, whimpered noise at him and it reverberated in his mind so deeply he came all over his hand and lower stomach ⟢ he had said, “alright love, have at it,” your mind reeled at his words, leaning down you licked the cum off his stomach, taking his softening and tender cock into your mouth to suck it clean, johnny let out pathetic moans  at the sensitivity, he couldn’t help but mumble praises to you under his breath, always the charmer ⟢ once you had licked him clean, you crawled up his body and gave him a deep kiss, your tongue licking into his mouth, letting him taste his own cum on you ⟢ when you parted he’d murmured to you, “your turn”

[piovascosimo]

I've been thinking what a good setlist for wembley would be, keeping the energy up but putting more interesting songs in instead of the hits, and i got here, which is not perfect but i think is better than what they are doing right now. BLUR SETLIST

01 - FOR TOMORROW 02 - GIRLS & BOYS 03 - ADVERT 04 - TROUBLE IN THE MESSAGE CENTRE 05 - STRANGE NEWS FROM ANOTHER STAR 06 - COLIN ZEAL 07 - COFFEE AND TV 08 - BONE BAG 09 - BEETLEBUM 10 - TRIMM TRABB 11 - HE THOUGHT OF CARS 12 - END OF A CENTURY 13 - TO THE END 14 - I THOUGHT I WAS A SPACEMAN 15 - POPSCENE 16 - VILLA ROSIE 17 - CHARMLESS MAN 18 - THERE'S NO OTHER WAY 19 - OILY WATER 20 - THIS IS A LOW

ENCORE

21 - TENDER 22 - THE NARCISSIST 23 - SONG 2 24 - CHEMICAL WORLD 25 - THE UNIVERSAL

[majorshatterandhare]

I started a piece of art today which is based on some plant species* that I think would be good to colonize Tim in @gunpowder-tim’s headcanon of the Persephone Tim headcanon; so it’s art based on a headcanon of a headcanon of a headcanon 😅 [sweat simle emoji].

It’s gonna take a long time I think, but I am planning on posting it here even though it’s just gonna be plants and no Tim (because I am much better at drawing these little doodle plants than drawing people).

*so the art is basically of real species we have on Earth, but I maintain that they wouldn’t have the same plants on the City, so in my brain his plants are just similar to these ones.

[starbuck]

Hi i would like to tell you that your username is a ship name of the relatively unpopular ship of sirius black and james potter, if you didnt know because i couldn’t find any indication that you did know

I… I very honestly do not know how to respond to this ask…

My url is a reference to the character of Starbuck from the classic novel Moby-Dick by Herman Melville, one of my favorite books. That character is also the namesake of international coffeeshop chain Starbucks and the person who had this url before me saved it as a reference to a Battlestar Galactica character of the same name.

All of these references are much more widely-known and recognized than some h*rry p*tter ship, so if that’s the first place your brain went, idk what I can do for you…

[azumasoroshi]

going fucking insane over one of my wips because it's for a really small subgroup of a really small fandom of a really small fandom of a really big fandom that everyone fucking hates because people are cancelled like every other week and basically i cant talk about it with anyone without needing to explain like 60 pages worth of story that I wrote PLUS no one wants to talk about me because it's one of the cringiest ships in existence that sounds HORRENDOUSLY heteronormative on paper and like half the fandom calls them siblings even though they have been confirmed multiple times not to be and the other half is like oh the girl would never be in love with the guy because she's in love with the player!! as if being in love with her ideal of the player is healthy for her all and can't change or she can't fall out of love with someone whose interactions were limited to basically just looking at her, clicking through her text and DELETING HER

yeah so is about monipai as in monika from ddlc and senpai from friday fucking night funkin (i know. im sorry) im so down horrendous im on like seventeen doses of copium and counting and there's 11 total monipai works on ao3

one of them is mine and the other ones are either written by a 10 year old (because it's fucking fnf, what sane adult would write unironic fnf fanfiction) or unfinished (because fnf fics get no traction and unless you're fucking insane like me and have 60 pages of pure brainrot there is NOTHING keeping you going for such a nonexistent audience) and oh my god why am i here

the other fandoms ive been in recently are vashwood and shizaya and those are great!! those are normal!! vashwood has been getting boatloads of content that i cant stop looking at/reading and im getting fun ideas for aus and there's so many people in the community rn to interact with

and shizaya is a bit of struggle because the fandom is smaller but there's so much older content to go through/reread that it's fine and my posts about them get some traction and in some places you can actually talk to people who have been in the fandom from the beginning of time and overall it's a good fun time

AND THEN THERE'S MONIPAI. the ONE straight (bi4bi according to me and im always right) ship in fnf that no one likes because they're "sibling coded" for some god forsaken reason (and im usually all for sibling headcanons/prefer them over romantic ones but NOT THIS ONE SENPAI LITERALLY CONFESSED HIS LOVE FOR HER IN THE MOD) and it'll only make sense to people who like DDTO enough to not forget about it after playing like 19832529 other mods and even THEN like half of them ship it in the really cringe heteronormative way that dudebros ship them like GOD FUCKING HELL GET ME OUT OF HERE

ive never been madder about anything ive shipped ever. i LOVE getting comments on my fic and im surprised ive gotten any at all but holy shit

you know that one person who made like 3000 fics for their honeyworks throuple. honey i feel you cuz what the fuck is this

and with my usual ships i can send them to my friends who know what to expect and be like ok so these are the gayasses you're obsessed with this week but with this one. like the very premise is so ridiculous id be laughed out of their dms but this is literally like the most in-depth and serious ive gotten about any of my fanfiction plots ever (there's like themes and callbacks and motifs and everything, thats how you know it's bad). this is probably better written than my book drafts and it makes me SO MAD

ive even considered like. what if i just made them my ocs, since i've developed them so much and the plot is entirely my own creation. that might even be easier but the fic is so heavily based off of canon content that it just wouldntd make SENSE how am i supposed to rewrite all that canon lore when i take them out of it. i cant. im stuck tying them to ddtoverse

back to what i was originally talking about: basically i got this really nice comment on ao3 on my monipai fic and i was smiling really hard and spinning in my chair and i was inspired to try and write again so i update my. oh it's 71 pages. 71 page document to try and update chapter 3 and i end up going to my other ideas and workshopping them and suddenly ive penned down ideas for 4 DIFFERENT CLIMAXES?????????? AND THEY ALL HAVE THEIR PROS AND CONS AND THEY ALL BASICALLY LEAD TO THE SAME ENDNIG AND I DONT KNOW WHICH ONE TO CHOOSE AND I CANT ASK ANYONE BECAUSE IF THEY'RE INTERESTED ENOUGH TO READ IT I WANT THEM TO READ THE FIC AS IT'S BEING UPDATED BUT NO ONE'S INTERESTED ANYWAY

and trying to ask about which one i should choose while removing all incriminating details (read: monika and senpai's names) is so hard because there's SO much i have to explain as backstory and no one even responds to it anyway so there's no point :sob:

anyway i love monipai and specifically my version of monipai and it's legitmately ruining my life how's your day going

[emcads]

me shipping norvilla with all my heart vs knowing ann likely intended james to be responsible for esme’s death :))))

[tadpal]

when i learn how to be comfortable with the sincerity of my own interests none of u will ever see me again

[loveletterworm]

i think for some reason now  my favorite thing to code is  debug mode only key inputs

they are very easy to do but make me feel very smart to accomplish especially because these ones all require holding shift first before they do anything

[prokopetz]

Ten inessential worldbuilding features for local communities in your fantasy RPG:

A grievance or conflict of interest with a neighbouring community which the community's members feel much more strongly about than the issue's magnitude really warrants

A substance or commodity important to everyday life with no local source, and the complicated and inconvenient arrangement the community has made to obtain it from outside sources

A local practice or custom whose original motivation has been rendered obsolete by changing circumstances, and which is now carried forward out of tradition

Something that's technically illegal, but everyone does it on the sly anyway, with enforcement of its illegality being reserved for people the community's leaders want to mess with for unrelated reasons

An obscure piece of trivia or local history which the community's members regard as obvious and widely known, to the extent of treating outsiders with contempt for revealing their ignorance of it

Some undertaking or realm of achievement in which the community isn't particularly exceptional, but which the community's members believe they're the best around at as a point of civic pride

A mostly harmless thing that nobody talks about because its existence or some facet of its historical context is regarded as an embarrassment to the community

A particular prank that's become traditional to play on visitors to the community, and which occasionally gets taken further than is strictly appropriate

A specific area of the setting's history where what the community's members insist really happened is wildly at odds with the accepted version of events

A genuinely dangerous circumstance that everyone treats with casual disregard because it's always been there, and only a damn fool would actually get hurt by it anyway

[halalchampagnesocialist]

How to spot Liberal Zionist Propaganda 101

This post is by no means exhaustive at all. There are many Liberal Zionist talking points but these are just some of the most common ones. While on the surface they seem a little naive and hopeful at best, they are very much harmful. If you claim to be an ally to Palestinians, this post is primarily for you!

For starters, liberal Zionists will often try to both-sides the issue of Palestine, talk about how it's complicated, they'll claim that the conflict hurts both Israelis and Palestinians, how the only way forward is one where Jews and Arabs "just need to get along," amongst other things. They also often like to centre themselves, even when acknowledging Palestinians as the victims of Israel or this "conflict." From time to time, they also like to engage in tokenising certain Palestinians whose views tend to more or less align with theirs. Here are some common arguments you may hear from them:

1. Any form of justifying Israel's existence or claiming that the only solution is two states

It does not really need to be said why justifying Israel's existence is harmful but justifying its continued existence also means legitimising Israel's land theft, its expulsions of Palestinians, and its ongoing harm to Palestinians and other populations. Reducing any sorts of “solutions” into a binary is unhelpful. Needless to say, a 2ss would not even address any legitimate concerns Palestinian have, such as the right of return, and would only legitimise Israel’s colonialism. Talking about a two-state solution also implies that the root of the conflict lies in Palestinians not having their own state rather than being an occupied people. It is very much also possible to construct a paradigm where Jews and Palestinians both live together on the same land as equal citizens that doesn't involve two separate states, much less an ethnostate.

2. Security for Israel could only come through peace

This is a similar talking point to the one above. Not only does it centre Israeli safety and security above Palestinian liberation but it mistakenly assumes that once Israel makes peace with Palestinians, it'll achieve security. The reality, however, is that Israel's imagined security has quite often come at the expense of peace. In fact, "peace" has just acted as nothing more than a smoke-screen for Israel to carry out its expansionist policies, particularly in the West Bank. When liberal Zionists talk about peace juxtaposed with Israeli security, they're talking about attaining a negative peace rather than a positive one.

3. Israelis are not their government.

This point does nothing to actually help Palestinians. It is also an incredibly tone-deaf thing to say when Israel has targeted many Palestinian civilians by having alleged proximity to Hamas, such as being family members of militants or leaders (inc. children!), civil servants in a Hamas-led government, or even any male above the age of 15 they consider to be a potential combatant! It also deliberately erases Israeli civilians' support of and culpability in Israel's actions towards Palestinians.

4. Netanyahu and/or the Israeli right are the source of conflict.

While it is true that things have gotten inadvertently worse under Israel's various right-wing governments, they are not the source of conflict, but rather a product of extremist nationalism and Jewish supremacy perpetuated by the system. Both the 1967 occupations and settlements were undertaken under centre-left governments in Israel, and Israeli policy under non-right wing governments has been just as harmful towards Palestinians and has paved the way for where we are today. Blaming Netanyahu just also obscures the violent nature of Israel's military occupation over Palestinians which long precede him coming into power.

5. Netanyahu and Hamas are two sides of the same coin

I don't think I've seen any allies give validity to this claim but it's an extremely reductionist claim and is sort of similar to the one above. Groups like Hamas are merely a response to the Israeli occupation while Netanyahu is a byproduct of it. While some Israelis may see Hamas or their actions as an "obstacle to peace," Israel's actions and policies long pre-date Hamas and how Israel is currently responding to Hamas is no different to how Israel has engaged with Palestinian militant groups in the past, regardless of political affiliations or political goals. It is also important to note that Hamas has agreed to the establishment of a state along 1967 borders while Netanyahu aims to prolong the occupation and empower the settler movement (some of whom are part of his coalition government) as much as possible.

6. Israel is not a settler-colonial state.

While it is indisputable that Jews have historical connections to Palestine, that doesn’t automatically make you Indigenous or negate Israeli settler-colonialism. Colonialism in particular describes a relationship of exploitation. There are many cases of this, but we most clearly see this in the West Bank where Israel exploits natural resources on occupied Palestinian territory for its own political and economic gains. In terms of settler-colonialism, it is widely known that Israel expelled hundreds of thousands of Palestinians to make way for Jewish refugees and migrants to the new state of Israel, and is still actively facilitating Jewish migration to Israel today while denying Palestinians their right of return.

7. (X) doesn't help Palestinians.

It is not up to anyone to determine whether certain tactics or strategies are helpful or not. This point only seeks to discredit pro-Palestine organising. Only Palestinians get to decide what is actually helpful for the cause or not.

8. Any sort of Hamas-blaming.

On the surface it may seem like there’s nothing wrong with this, but this point is often harmful and usually lends itself to right-wing talking points because its objective is to deflect blame away from Israel. Certain arguments blaming Hamas also aim to minimise Palestinian suffering perpetuated by Israel. It also paints Israeli violence as retaliatory to Palestinian violence which only obfuscates Israel’s (and by extension, the US’) role in its state military apparatus and the differing power dynamics between Israelis and Palestinians. In other contexts, this point seeks to also legitimise certain opposition, such as the Palestinian Authority. Hamas-blaming also tends to sometimes lead to racist diatribes about Palestinians and their culture.

9. Al-Jazeera is not a credible news source.

Al Jazeera is a news source like any other. It has varying editorial policies and therefore will have equally good reporting on certain issues while having terrible reporting on others. The difference is that Al-Jazeera's news on Palestine is credible because it comes directly from their Palestinian reporters on the ground and first-hand eyewitness accounts. Western news sources are no more or less credible than al-Jazeera. Compare this to CNN, NYT, and any other Western news sources where Palestinian voices are often entirely missing from the narrative.

10. Overemphasis of antisemitism on the left

Antisemitism is a real issue and has the potential to fester in left circles if not directly addressed head on. Combatting antisemitism is extremely important, however, it is not an issue exclusive to the left. There is also a double standard in that no one expects Zionists to call out Islamophobia and anti-Palestinian racism. Certain accusations of "antisemitism" also seek to distract from what's going on in Palestine by making it about Jewish comfort and feelings. Combatting antisemitism, Islamophobia, anti-Arab racism etc is always important as the basis of good politics.

Last but not least, be wary of native collaborators or any sort of normalisers! They are Palestinians or Arabs who try very hard to appeal to Western liberal consensus and can end up perpetuating a lot of harm to the cause and/or other activists. You will know them when you see them.

[resisteverything]

One time I heard a dude online compare new and obscure LGBT terminology to newspeak. This I think is one of the biggest examples I have seen of people with their whole chest ignoring the basic themes of 1984.

In 1984 the whole point of newspeak was that it shrinks. Ideas that could once be communicated now cannot. Everything is simplified as much as possible. You cannot explain complicated ideas of freedom or equality because the words no longer exist, or they don’t mean what they once did.

More specifically, there is canonically no word for “gay” in 1984. There are only two words for the entire spectrum of sexuality. “goodsex” and “sexcrime”. If you’re gay it’s the exact same as being a pedophile. And those are is the exact same as cheating on your wife, which is the exact same daring to fuck your wife just because you feel like it. Which is no different than literally any sex act that might offend big brother.

Do you see what’s happening? In 1984 can no longer ask someone of the same sex to fuck you because the word for gay sex is the exact same as the word for pedophile. And you can’t come out as gay because all you can say is that you did a criminal sex act, which means you cannot make a case for your rights either.

Inventing made up words to describe obscure things that previously lacked words would literally be a perfect remedy to newspeak. This language would counter every barrier to communicating the necessary concepts. Because it’s what literally every normal non-dystopian language does.

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.

about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.

“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”

the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns  as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt. 

yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”

another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.” 

“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.

“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”

“i told you, she’s a little shy,”  he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”

yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.

weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend. 

he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you. 

that’s created the very person he loves today. 

“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.” 

being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change. 

“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.” 

you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.” 

it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares. 

“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?” 

yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates  let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.” 

“o-oh.”

a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.

yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!” 

his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.” 

itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”

“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely. 

you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen. 

change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold. 

much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[headspace-hotel]

The reason "We (USamericans) should reduce our personal consumption of resources to save the planet!" won't change anything, is that there is no "we."

The average American does X amount of unnecessary shopping, but collapsing the wide range of wealth inequality into an average creates a vague call to action that sufficiently motivates 0 people.

Poor people feel guilty about buying stuff already. Even essential stuff. They have very little ability to adjust the amount they consume, and any adjustments that are possible would be almost negligible.

The moderately affluent and up vastly overestimate the impact of small adjustments to their lifestyle, and think of denying themselves any indulgence as extreme frugality. This is often the group that uses the "we" pronoun in the statement "We should consume less."

Most of the USA's carbon emissions come from heating and cooling and from cars. Since homelessness is treated as a crime, houses are not made sustainably or constructed smaller than a certain size, and it is virtually impossible to work or obtain basic needs without a car, there is a very solid and nearly impenetrable bottom to the scale of individual consumption.

So much consumption is near 100% impossible to opt out of, which means of course that the money that goes to it is never really yours, it just happens to pass through you on its way to its true destination.

This is obscured by the fact that the more privileged can ride a cushioned elevator below that bottom, play for as long as it takes for them to feel good about themselves, and take the elevator back up, and then write an article saying "See! I lived on 3 cents a day/lived in a 100sqft house/didn't use electricity for a week, and here's what I learned!"

Sure, you tried living a frugal life for a while. But you never doubted that the elevator would be there to take you back when you were tired of playing. You never felt the Fear. That's why you learned nothing.

[feyascorner]

Astarion hates his scars.

Cazador is long dead, he knows this. That cruel excuse for a man can no longer haunt him as he's done the past two centuries...but of course, he couldn't have gone away without leaving this hideous mark on Astarion's back, of which he can't even see himself.

Even if he can't see it, he feels it. He can still feel the knife dragging down his skin, carving it into the runes that it is today. He knows it's large enough to obscure the entirety of his back, and he hates it---he hates that even in death, Cazador has so much presence in his life.

"These blasted scars."

You blink as you pause, cleaning his back with a towel. The tub water is still hot enough to let off steam, and while you remain clothed, it sticks to your skin with how humid it is inside the bathroom. You yank the ends of your sleep up further to compensate, but he doesn't budge, continuing to stare at the soap bubbles atop the water.

"The runes?" you ask.

"What else?" he grumbles. "They ruin the way my back looks, does it not? Even with that bastard dead he finds ways to hinder my life."

You stare at the very scars he's speaking of, with a sort of softness that he found too good for him just a few months ago. You lift your hand again, and when he feels your fingertips tracing what he assumes to be the path of the wounds, he almost shudders.

"You pull it off," you smile.

"As much as I enjoy flattery, I don't enjoy lying either, my love."

"I mean it," you begin to massage into his back, and he sighs. "Even if Cazador was the one to put it there, it's yours, is it not?"

"It's on my back, but I never wanted it there."

"He's dead," you remind him, drooping your arms over his shoulders and leaning your chin onto the crook of his neck. "While you're here, more than alive. So who else would it belong to but yourself?"

He rolls his eyes playfully. "Fine then. So what if it belongs to me? It doesn't change how it looks."

"Well, I love everything about you---even the parts you hate."

He stops. Despite his gaze remaining on the water, his attention is on the way your hand dangles atop his shoulder, and he doesn't fight the urge to rub circles into it with his thumb. "As kind as your intentions are, my dear, nobody could like such hideous scars--"

"I do. They're a part of you, how could I not?"

Astarion gives you a long stare which you return with a smile of your own.

Finally, he laughs, if just a bit, as he squeezes your hand. "You've always had such strange taste."

"No wonder why I'm dating a vampire."

"But I'm glad you have questionable preferences," he shrugs. "If it were any other way, I might've not had you here."