#nobody moves because they fucking want to. they move because they have to
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One thing I can’t stop thinking about is meeting a feeder at a bar and going to a hotel room with them where they can stuff me with as many burgers and fries as possible and then fuck me into the bed >.< im new to being a feedee too so it’d be so hot for dominant feeder to take me to bed and whisper dirty fantasies and encouragements while they explore my limits (of my sex drive and my belly🥰)
"Are you doing okay over here? Can I get you another drink?" the bartender says to you. It didn't really register to you because you were too busy looking around the room for your date. He was an hour late and hadn't responded to your text messages asking where he was.
"Yeah, I think I just got stood up." This was the first time you tried to go on a date since your big break up last year, so this cut extra deep. You even pulled you nicest outfit, even though it fit a little more snug than you remembered. Perhaps you had put on a few pounds since your breakup.
"Don't worry, I have just the thing for you." They walk away and start making you a drink. In a moment, they come back with a tropical looking drink with a pineapple fronds sticking out the top and a cherry. "Here you go, this is on the house and I ordered you a dessert from the kitchen, on me."
"Oh my God, that's so nice. You didn't have to do all that."
"It was my pleasure. Someone as cute as you are should never be stood up. It truly was their loss." They say and flash you a smile. You feel your face start to blush and you get the light flutter of butterflies in your stomach. You know bartenders will flirt sometimes to get better tips but for some reason you think they are being serious. Maybe this is just how bartenders work at these fancy hotel bars.
You take a sip of the drink. It's a combination of sweet, sour, and slightly spicy that makes you feel cozy and comfortable. In fact it's so easy to drink that by the time your dessert arrives, you hadn't even noticed that you drank the whole thing. The dessert is a fudge sunday piled high with ice cream, chocolate, and nuts. It looks delicious but monstrous. You don't know how you're going to finish this whole thing.
The bar is slow tonight so you two have a lot of time to talk. They tell you how they moved here a couple of months ago and were still getting adjusted to city life. You tell them about your job that you just got a new promotion for and how you've been trying to grow a houseplant but no matter what you do they keep dying. All the while, you're picking at your dessert and drinking these tasty drinks that they keep bringing you.
You're starting to feel pretty buzzed and your belly is so tight with all the sugar sweets. You look down and notice the buttons on your shirt are starting to strain and you waistband is digging into your now softer sides. How long had it been since you had this much fun talking to someone?
"Well, it's getting to be that time. Anything I can get you for last call?" They told you. This broke you out of your trance.
"Of course, they are here to work. Nobody would actually want to flirt with you and get to know you." You think to yourself. You were starting to spiral, but you were brought back by a simple question.
"Are you staying here at the hotel? If not, I get a free room. Maybe you could stay the night with me,"
You weren't crazy, they actually did like you. Maybe it was the alcohol but your face got super flushed and your heart started racing.
"Y-yes! I would like that very much."
"Well, here is the room key. I'm going to order some room service for after my shift so help yourself to whatever you like when it gets there. I'll be about 30 minutes to an hour until I'm done closing the bar. I'll see you then," they say and wink at you.
After getting a little lost in the maze of corridors that make up the hotel, you make your way to the room. It was a modest room but with how much your head was spinning from the booze, a comfy place to rest was appreciated. Especially with how tight your clothes were, you needed some release. As you tried to unbutton the strained buttons on your shirt, you accidentally popped a few of the off. Normally you would be mortified but it felt so good to have your belly freed from its prison of thread and buttons.
Beads of sweat were starting to pool on your forehead from walking are the hotel. “It must be the alcohol, I’m not that out of shape yet.” Yet? Were you planning on getting that out of shape? Your contemplation was cut short by a knock at the door. “Room service, may I come in?”
“One second,” you called back, desperately trying to cover your exposed gut. You find the bathrobe hanging by the bathroom door. It looks silly considering you’re still wearing your pants and shoes but it gets the job done.
“Hello, please come in.” You say and usher them in. They put an order of burger and fries on the tiny table, you thank them and they leave, but not before casting you an odd glance.
You check the time. The bartender shouldn’t be done closing the bar yet. “Did they order this for me? They must have.” Your head was spinning and your heart was starting to race. “They want you to eat. That’s why they gave you so much free stuff. You should eat for them, it would be so hot if you did.” Your belly still felt full from the dessert but it didn’t matter. You dug in.
The burger was huge, but it was delicious. The melted cheese pair so well with juicy burger and the crunch of the veggies was a nice texture. The fries were hot and crisp. You kept eating in a blissful daze. At some point you unbuttoned your pants to give your belly more room. You were in such a fugue state that you didn’t notice the juices from the burger dripping down your face and into your nicest shirt. You were about halfway done with hen there was another knock at the door followed by the sound of the keycard being inserted.
“Hey, I closed up a little early. I grabbed a couple beers from downstairs for us to share.” They stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw the state of you: Belly exposed, stuffed to the brim with food, and greasy juices dripping from your chin. They chuckled, “that was my dinner you know.”
“Oh God,” you thought to yourself. You could feel your face burning hot with embarrassment. “Of course, it’s their dinner. Why would I assume that they wanted me to eat more? That’s crazy!”
“But, it was also a test,” they said as they pulled up a chair next to you. After pulling a couple cans of beer from the six pack, they crack one open and bring it to your lips. Without thinking, you drink it down. It’s painful how the bubbling beverage pushes your stomach out even further. Before you know it, then can is empty. You try to stifle burps in between heavy gasps for air but are unsuccessful. They gently rub your belly to release some of the pressure. “I’m so happy I was right about you. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”
They pick up what’s left of the burger and hold it up to your face. You have to lean back in the chair to make more room in your gut. It smells so rich and greasy it’s sickening, but you want it anyways. You shouldn’t, and yet, you’ve never wanted anything more.
#wg text#feeding kink#wg fiction#wg encouragement#wg fantasy#trans feedist#gaining weight on purpose#soft feedism
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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash
Chapter Eight
Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.
Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader
1.7K
Warnings: Smut, P in V
Series Masterlist
Bradley Bradshaw couldn't believe that nobody had ever had goodbye sex with her. With the sweet, slightly annoying girl below him.
Her nails clawed at his back as he tipped her over the edge. She cried out as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, shoving her head against his neck. "Roo," she whispered over and over again.
"I got you, princess," he whispered at the feeling of her teeth against his skin. "Almost there."
He spilled inside of the condom and pulled out of her, pulling away from her body. A whine left her lips when he stepped away from her and deposited the condom into the bin. "I'm here," he mumbled as he crawled back onto the bed and pulled her into his chest.
"'m gonna miss you when you're in Miami."
She looked up at him and kissed his chest. "Could come with me," she said quietly as she settled her head against his chest and shut her eyes. God, he was so comfy, If she never left his arms, she would have been so happy. Part of her was so tempted to stay here instead of going to Miami.
But she couldn't do that when she'd already promised Logan that she'd be there.
Again, Bradley pulled away. "Where the hell are you going?" She groaned and reached towards him, trying to pull him back.
"Calm down, Chicken!" He called as he disappeared into the hall. "Just gonna get something to clean you up!"
She huffed as she laid back on the bed and folded her arms over her chest. But this level of care had her feeling so fucking warm inside. And it was all because of Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw.
He drove her to the airport the next day. "Call me when you land?" He asked, sunglasses covering his eyes.
"'course, Roo," she whispered and climbed out of the Bronco.
For just a second, Bradley sat there, watching as she grabbed her bag from the back of the Bronco. For a second longer, he watched her as she turned away.
No, this wasn't a proper goodbye.
It was a split second decision that had Bradley climbing out of the Bronco. "Chicken!" He shouted, and she turned back around.
Within a second she was running towards him and jumping into his arms. Bradley caught her and held her still as he kissed her. This. This was a proper goodbye. "Holy shit, I'll miss you," he whispered against her lips. "But you're gonna have the best time."
"Three days," she said as she held his jaw, thumb moving across his scar. "I'll be back in three days."
"That's three days too long."
He let her go, waited until she was in the airport and gone from his sight before he climbed back into the Bronco. Fuck, he was going to miss her, more than she could ever know.
***
Logan Sargeant was her best friend, hands down. There he was, waiting for her outside of the airport. He didn't look like himself, and she knew she wouldn't have recognised him without the picture he'd sent just before she'd gotten on the plane.
Her running towards him might have given him away. She ran towards him and threw her arms around his neck, her bag hitting his back.
"Holy fuck, it's good to see you," she said as she squeezed him.
"Good to see you, too, Verstappen."
Logan took her bag from her, placed it into the back of his car and climbed in as she climbed into the passenger seat. The car was so low compared to the Bronco, it felt so strange. "So, what's kept you in the States?" He asked with a sly smile.
She couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes as she leaned her head against the window. "Why does something have to keep me here, Sarge? Can't I just want to be here?"
Logan spared her a quick glance, eyebrow quirked up and a grin on her lips. "No, no you can't."
The rest of the journey was filled with them just talking, updating each other on their lives. She didn't tell him about Bradley. No, he was just for her.
Now, don't get it wrong. If Bradley had come with her, she would have been happy to introduce him to Logan. But he wasn't there, and he was just for her.
It transported her back to her childhood, staying with Logan and his family before the Grand Prix. They stayed for the Thursday night, before heading to the track and their nearby hotel together. It was just like old times, something she had missed so much over the years.
On the Friday, she headed to the track. It was just an hour before the first practice session, the rest of the morning having been spent on the phone with Bradley.
She missed him, more than she should have. He wasn't her boyfriend, so why did she miss him so much?
She didn't see Max on the Friday, but that was no bad thing. But she did see some of her friends. She threw her arms around Fernando Alonso and cracked jokes with Alex Albon. Every driver she saw that day expressed how much they missed her, missed racing against her.
When she arrived at the track on the Saturday, she wasn't Logan's only guest.
"Moon?!" She shouted as she walked towards her best friend. By his feet was an animal on a leash. It wasn't a dog, or a cat, or any other typical sort of pet. No, the raccoon grabbed her finger like a baby the minute she held it towards him.
(if you haven't read my Moon The Raccoon Series/ if you're not usually an F1 fan, i feel i must point out that no drivers own raccoons and it's just a silly little fic I did that i wanted to incorporate into this one for funsies)
Moon the raccoon being at the Miami Grand Prix really was a treat. She couldn't stop herself from pulling her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, fingers furiously swiping through the apps before she managed to video call Bradley.
There was a moment before he could pick up. "Chicken, you okay?" He asked as he walked outside of the Hard Deck. The Formula One had been playing on the screen, all of the daggers hoping to catch a glimpse of their new friend.
"Roo, I need you to meet my friend, Moon."
"Is that a fucking raccoon?"
She turned the camera away from Moon to look at Bradley's face. "You can't be using that sort of language around my nephew, Roo," she said as she sat on the floor and placed Moon in her lap. "Besides, you're just meant to look at how cute he is."
She watched as Bradley rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide the fond smile beneath his moustache. "He's very cute, Chicken. Wanna tell me where you found him?"
"I'm friends with his dad," she said and removed Moon from her lap. Logan offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet, all while she kept her attention on Bradley. "If I agree to stick around in San Diego, can we get one?"
With the pout she wore, how could he say no, she figured. Instead, Bradley laughed. "Chicken, I love you, but we're not getting a raccoon."
I love you.
Fuck, why did he have to go ahead and say that. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but she wasn't doing a very good job. "I have to go, speak to you later?" She asked quickly.
Before Bradley could answer, she hung up on him.
"What was that about?" Asked Logan as she followed him and Moon to the William's hospitality. "Who is Roo?"
She let out a shuddering breath and shook her head. "Leave it alone, Sarge," she mumbled as she shoved her hands into her pockets.
"Was that the reason you've been staying in the States?"
"I said leave it, Logan."
***
Bradley stared at his phone, her picture gone. Fuck, he knew he shouldn't have said anything. I would be a wonder at all if she ever came back to San Diego at all.
"You okay, kid?" Maverick asked as he walked back into The Hard Deck, shoving his phone into his pocket.
Bradley sat beside him and Penny placed a beer on the bar top. Bradley gave her an appreciative nod as he took it and sipped. On the screen across from him was the race, put on at his request.
He wasn't so sure he wanted to watch it now. "It's fine, Mav," he said as he finished his drink. "It's nothing," he grumbled.
Maybe it was the old man in him, but Bradley couldn't stop himself from pulling out his phone and texting her. I'm sorry, Chicken, he texted. I shouldn't have said it.
It's fine, Bradley.
Bradley. Not Rooster or Roo. Just Bradley. His heart hurt.
Mav pushed his elbow against Bradley's arm and pointed towards the screen across them them. Bradley stopped staring at his phone, just to see his girl, if she was still his girl, standing by a man in a white suit and American themed helmet, holding a raccoon.
Moon the Raccoon, he knew.
He and Maverick watched as a taller man tapped her on the shoulder. She spun, readjusted Moon in her arms and hugged the taller man.
But then the screen stopped showing her, instead showing the qualifying. Without her there to explain everything to him, Bradley was downright lost, and had to rely on Maverick.
As the qualifying happened, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Bradley pulled it out and checked it quickly, while Penny wasn't looking. But the bar wasn't too quickly at this time on a Saturday, and having to buy a round for everyone wouldn't have been the end of the world.
Can we pretend this never happened?
He let out a shuddering breath. If that was what she wanted, if that was what it would take to have her back in her arms, he'd do it. Of course, Chicken
Thank you, Roo. I miss you
Miss you too, Chicken. I'll see you tomorrow night
Can't wait
If you enjoyed this, please feel free to buy me a coffee
Taglist: @not-nyasa
@boiohboii
@thehufflepuffavenger1
@sweate-r-weathe-r
@hiireadstuff
@spideybv28
@skepvids
@spookystitchery
@jolixtreesunn
@nikfigueiredo
@primroseluna
@jpg3
@charlesgirl16
@mavies-stuff
@siannaplmn
@justmexfranzi
@marvelfangirl04
@customsbyjcg-blog
@esquivelbianca
@thatgirlthatreadswattpad
@hnm-mika
@fangirlvibez
@sol-emers
@callsignwidow
@elliotts1one
@woozarts
@inky-sun
TGM Taglist: @biancathecool
@finnydraws
@writtingrose
@afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff
@mp0625
@xoxabs88xox
#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw smut#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw x reader smut#rooster#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster fluff#rooster smut#rooster x reader smut#rooster x you#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun#tgm#top gun maverick#rooster top gun#top gun fanfiction
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Your tag on one of the Moschino posts made think, who exactly IS buying those particularly outlandish clothes? Like you don’t often see their most over the top stuff on a red carpet, or at after parties/events, and that’s understandable given how difficult they would be to pull off. But someone MUST be buying them right, in order for the company to keep making a profit? Do rich people just….buy those outfits and keep them in a closet? Are they sold to charities or museums for display? I understand if you don’t know or don’t feel like answering, or if nobody really knows, just kinda curious.
well, it depends! the craziest or most detailed looks obviously aren't mass-produced or anything, more times than not there's probably only very few (maybe even one? not 100% sure) of each look, i guess it all depends on the designer but it's not like they have 500 of the same dress at hand for anyone to come get. if someone wants it for a red carpet, the designer will either fit it to the celebrity or maybe even make it all over again from scratch depending on the measurements the garment has vs the celebrity, and probably depending on a bunch of other variables that i can't even imagine. i assume level of fame, if they're lending it vs buying it, what event is being used for, maybe if the brand already has a relationship with the stylist or the celebrity. who knows.
a lot of the quirky crazy ridiculous looks are mostly made for editorial rather than events, too. so a celebrity will use it on a magazine, or an album cover, or an ad campaign. there's fashion historians and fashion collectors who will buy clothes for archiving purposes, there is museums and stuff like the met or other exhibitions that move around the world.
sometimes designers also, at least i remember learning this in fashion school, sometimes present a collection that isn't meant to be sold or worn at all? it's more like... a concept, so it's a little crazy and kooky and over the top, and then the clothes they actually sell are like toned down versions of that. im sure if someone asked to buy the crazy dress they might sell it too, but it's usually not like the point when making them.
or sometimes the way the clothes are presented and what the clothes actually are worn are two different things too. i remember a designer from here presented a collection where the models were wearing jeans as like, a top/vest kind of thing, they were held together with a belt iirc? i don't know, it was a while ago, and it was meant to catch the eye, it was shock value to make you actually look and try to figure out what was going on and really look at the clothes, but you're not supposed to buy the jeans and wear them like that, they're literally just jeans wear them as jeans lmao or like sometimes thom browne has a crazy outfit with a jacket and a vest and a button up and a skirt and pants and platform shoes and socks over the pants and another coat on top and it's insane, but you can just... buy the vest. and wear the vest alone, and that's a perfectly normal piece of clothing you can wear anywhere. or just the pants and the jacket. etc.
anyway all that to say that... i don't know but also i kind of know maybe? i don't know what each brand/designer does individually, i have no idea if moschino sells the burger skirt or if they only made one for that shoot and called it a day, but i know there are a bunch of different ways the crazy clothes can still exist out there i guess. and god knows where they are, maybe some people who work in the industry know and i don't because i live in the middle of fuck nowhere and i'm poor lmao but they might be somewhere.
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can i req a angst? kk arnold x reader. reader was having a tiring and stressful day! so she was angry, very angry and bored. kk tried to approach her to annoy her a bit (as always) just jokingly, but reader unintentionally ends taking out everything in kk, she yelled at her, cursed... and kk becomes sad 🥺🥺
hi anon,i hope you enjoy the story!
warning(s): cussing, angst
genre: angst & fluff
pairing(s): kk arnold x reader
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today was one of those days where everyone was making you mad. you woke up mad and as the day went on you got more mad, nobody really talked to you today and you were glad. after all of your classes you went to your apartment, kk was already there waiting on you. when you walked in you put everything up then went to sit on the couch. “hey baby.” kk said as she walks out from your room, sitting next to you, you muttered a hi back and started to work on homework and other things on your computer.
kk started to poke you over and over again even if you said what, and you were starting to get mad and should’ve said stop but you weren’t thinking straight and instead of saying stop you yelled at her. “kk stop, i’m not in the fucking mood, leave me the hell alone for once!” yoi realized what you said and immediately shut the laptop and set it down on the coffee table, “kk i’m so sorry.” you said as kk moved to the other side of the couch, visibly upset. “please kk im sorry, i didn’t mean to yell at you.” kk kept ignoring you. “kk.” you said as she got up and put her shoes on and walked out of your apartment.
the moment kk left you started to write a paragraph to her about how sorry you were and you told her the reason you yelled at her in the first place. she replied fast and it was not what you were expecting at all
“why are you texting me? i thought you wanted me to leave you alone for once” reading the text made your heart break and you started crying so hard. you had no response to the message so you left her on read and went to bed, the sweetest and happiest person you know is now mad at you and won’t speak to you. the only person who can cheer you up no matter what was now the reason you’re crying. you were thinking of all of the things she might do, will she break up with you? will she stop talking to you? you weren’t sure and you didn’t want to find out.
-
it had been a week since you accidentally yelled at kk and she left your apartment. you guys haven’t talked since, she’s been ignoring you, you didn’t know what to do. even though kk has every right to be mad, you mad at her for being mad. you were mad that she wouldn’t hear you out and listen to what you had to say. you were getting sick and tired of her ignoring you over an accident.
you were so sick of it you literally went to her dorm. you knew she most likely wouldn’t answer because it’s her shared dorm with her team, but you didn’t care. it was 7:12 pm and you were at her dorm, knocking and waiting for someone to answer. after a few minutes her teammate caroline answered, “kk doesn’t want to speak.” she said while attempting the shut the door. you slide in as she was shutting the door, getting smashed but still getting in, “i don’t care.” you replied and you ran to kk’s room before someone could grab you.
when you walked in kk was in her bed, looking sad while scrolling on her phone. she looked up and seemed happy before immediately looking mad, “how did you get in?” she asked rudely, “doesn’t matter, anyway i came here to apologize for everything. i said the things i did brii was in a really bad mood, which doesn’t excuse my behavior, but still im really sporty and ill do anything to make you forgive me. im really sorry.” you quickly but sincerely apologized. kk just stared at you for a second before getting up and hugging you, “im sorry to over reacting and not talking to you for a week but what you said really hurt me.” she whispered into your neck, still hugging you.
you weren’t sure how but this simple hug felt like it fixed everything. she hugged you so tight, not loosening her grip once. everything felt like normal, it wasn’t awkward and silent like how it had been for the past week. this hug was everything but awkward, it may have been silent but it wasn’t a bad one, a comforting one.
you two stood there hugging for a while, you were surprised nobody walked in or tried to. when your long hug ended, kk led you to the bed and showered you with kisses and praises. “i love you so much, i never want to lose you.” she smiled and she continued to kiss all over your face, you giggled and wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her closer into you. everything was back to normal.
==================================
so sorry this took 4 million years to get out but i really hope you liked it, i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋
#uconn wbb#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball#kk arnold#kk arnold x reader#wlw post#wlw#angst#fluff#angst with a happy ending
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My live reactions to Harrow the Ninth
Continued from my pre-reading assumptions and post-reading thoughts about Gideon the Ninth
Everyone who said "Harrow the Ninth will take a while to make sense, be patient and it will pay off" was absolutely right! I made a lot of notes throughout with predictions, some of which were correct and some of which were... not.
Theories that were wrong:
The Emperor wiped Harrow's memory of Gideon
Gideon has spoken with The Body
The Body's eyes now appear yellow because they're Gideon's eyes
Harrow only sees her own eyes as black because she wiped her memory of Gideon, everyone else perceives them as gold
The Sleeper is The Body
The Sleeper is Gideon
"Ortus the First" is Gideon (the Ninth)
Harrow is haunted by Gideon
The picture in Camilla, Coronabeth, & Judith's shuttle is of Gideon
Cytherea's body moving around is a hallucination
Gideon's sword is haunted by the lyctor who established the Ninth House
I also did make some pretty good guesses, though. Here's some more of my notes that are just fun reactions!
"Her parents had... found out... about what she had done" SHE DOESN'T REMEMBER GIDEON'S VITAL ROLE IN THIS
This Teacher is a lot more helpful
there are advantages to having God himself as a father figure
"the grey-wrappered figures of Camilla Hect and Palamedes Sextus laid on the slabs in the mortuary" NO :(
bookmarking this other incomprehensible clue
it's that graffiti S that everyone drew in elementary school lol
"You had noticed at previous dinners that he did not like some particular vegetables, so you had put them all in." that's so petty, I love it
"said Camilla Hect" YAY
"the skull of someone who, soon after death or symptomatically during, had exploded" Palamedes!
Harrow never got actual sword training as a lyctor, did she? Now Camilla can help her!
"Nobody had seen you walk through that door [to The Tomb]. Nobody had watched you leave." GIDEON SAW AND THAT'S WHAT'S GOING TO CONVINCE HARROW THAT SHE'S NOT INSANE, EVENTUALLY
"What a destructive, romantic, ridiculous act. It was always a certain kind of ass who approached love like that" yeah it's a certain kind of stupid, heroic, selfless, etc. to make yourself forget the person you're in love with to protect them
"Harrow Nova" another alternate universe where Harrow is in Gideon's role?????
"they've got a hotshot new BARI star" oh my god it's a coffee shop au in space
SHE REMEMBERS GIDEON!!!!!!! (how??)
"You sawed open your skull rather than be beholden to someone. [...] Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it." AAAAAAAAA!!!!
"I was, and am, a grown man, and you both were neglected children" thank you Ortus for taking responsibility. actually a decent person
"What the fuck is going on?" yeah i feel u babe
"'The only thing that ever stopped me being exactly who I wanted,' she said, 'was the worry that I would soon be dead... and now I am dead, and I am sick of roses, and I am horny for revenge.'" hell yeah!!
oh Ianthe was gaslighting her. yeah Gideon wreck her!
"you'd kept my sunglasses" awww
"I never made her look like that. She can't love me, even if I'd wanted her to." aw :( and she's still so devoted anyway
"Your art, not my strength, was the ultimate source of our victory." so Ortus does get to be a hero after all, in his own way!
"Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity" I remember seeing posts about this name now! lol
yeah it's a weird chain of people in other people's bodies (Gideon would love the innuendo)
"We needed your, ahem, genetic material" Ianthe was right, ew. Also Gideon is the daughter of God I guess?
"You watched us kill our cavaliers in cold blood, and none of them had to die." ok that is a pretty bad thing for him to do
the tragedy that Gideon only had John as a father for a few minutes, while Harrow had him as a father figure for months but didn't want that
"'my necromancer started an affair with your mother... not knowing I'd also been doing the same thing, using his body.' // I said, 'What the fuck.'" extremely valid reaction from Gideon
"Oh, we'll still hate each other, my dear, we have hated each other too long and too passionately to stop... but my bones will rest easy next to your bones." that's kinda romantic in its own way
to be fair, if John dies, the entire solar system of Dominicus dies
"We died" no actually I think you might be alive and being saved
???????? Another alternate reality memory thing??
Multiple notes about how Harrow might just be the way she is because of growing up in a temple with strict routine, no social interaction, and no variety of sensory input... but I'm headcanoning her as autistic. Also headcanoning Gideon as ADHD, and autism/ADHD gay couples are my favorite ships.
Tagging people who have been following along. I'm going to switch to not tagging people anymore after this, but tagging all posts as #violet reads tlt, and you can follow the tag. @procrastinationaccount @vivaciouscynner @pearlofmydreams @cursed-druid-girl @ghostly-atv
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I don't care if nobody asked, Imma ramble about Angus Ciprianni anyways (/hj)
(Ik most of my content is Mario, but I NEED YALL TO UNDERSTAND THAT THAT'S NOT MY NEIGHBOR HAS TAKEN OVER MY BNNUY BRAIN AAA)
We don't canonically see the bottom half of the neighbors at all, so by decree of the bunny, Angus uses crutches.
Rarely refers to himself by his first name. Whenever he mentions his name, it's always "Ciprianni". However, calls everyone else by their first name so long as he knows it.
Because of the lack of medical advancement at the time, he has undiagnosed ADHD. Everyone just thinks it's part of who he is and nobody really knows ADHD exists.
Doesn't really fear doppelgangers unless they're outwardly hostile.
Annoys the living FUCK out of Francis and Steven. Will literally wait at the stairs to chat their ear off. He KNOWS it pisses them off. He does it anyways.
He doesn't really understand the consequences of actions. He can understand reasoning (ex If I push this person, they'll be upset), but not the aftermath of it. (ex Because they're upset at me, they don't want to speak to me.) This costs him lots of friendships.
Doesn't have a strong connection with his family. Only really talks to his brother once in a blue moon over the phone.
Sells drugs and makes a fortune off of it. Everyone thinks he takes said drugs because he's so hyperactive, but he doesn't.
Saw someone else headcanon that he's horrible with financial literacy, so guess what?
He hallucinates his nightmare variation (Abducius Morail) pretty often and sees him in his sleep.
Speaking of sleep, he sleeptalks.
Best friends with Elenois and Selenne. They would beat the crap out of anyone that tried to hurt Angus.
Compared to the other young men in his building (Steven, Izaack, Francis, and I suppose Afton), he is super SHORT. Even upright if he didn't use crutches, he would only come to Francis' chin and everyone else's shoulders.
Bisexual but leans heavily towards men.
Due to it being the fifties and all, barely anyone calls him by she/her pronouns, but he doesn't have a preference of pronouns and doesn't strongly associate himself with any specific gender.
Because of his crutches, everyone assumes he's in his thirties or forties, but he's actually younger than Steven.
Moved to this district from Queens NY. He will tell anyone and everyone about Queens regarless of if they asked.
Hates the heat and therefore hates using a stove, will eat dinner at other houses or at a diner at any given chance.
Slight hoarder. His apartment has a lot of junk in it, but he has trouble getting rid of any of it. He know's it's junk, but he feels sentimental value in the junk.
Pretty dramatic. Will dramaticise his unwillingness to do something if anyone tries to make him do something he hates. (Cleaning, cooking, etc)
And uh, yeah, that's all the Angus I have for now <3
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pete fighting uhh pinning him down. and uhh. pussy. yeah. so like. Sorry i went on a rant i’ve been stuck on this specific thought for days and i thought i’d save it to submit it. :-)
to start off, pete’s a good fight, honestly. he’s physically strong and relatively little - so he can move pretty quick and hit pretty hard. so its pretty hard to get him down onto the ground, but not too bad. it’s some deserted parking lot, the van blocks the streetlamp from really lighting us up. so i get him on his back. he’s probably dressed in something skimpy, because he’s a whore, and his hair is probably all messed up. he hasn’t had the chance to fuck with it in a few days, so its curled up at the edges from sweat. he’s grimy. sweaty. probably smells terrible. but he kinda looks pretty like this - sort of grouted at the seams. he’s very pretty, actually. his lips don’t get any less plush just because his teeth are bared (nice teeth too, by the way).
also, he’s got a collar on. because he’s a whore? i mean obviously. it’s simple black leather, a single strap around his throat with a couple studs. he’s been wearing it all day and nobody has even questioned it. so, he’s pinned down. arms under his waist just enough to restrain him, with my knee on his stomach, the other up by his hip. he’s squished in half, his thigh got caught between my legs and is now resting sort of over my hip. i’ve got a hand on his chest to keep him down, the other grabs at his collar before i can think of anything smarter to do. if he wasn’t more aware of his loss, he’d probably have tried to bite at me.
the part of this i’ve really been stuck on all day is telling him something like “down, boy” or “heel” or “don’t bite, hound” or really anything that would remind him he’s a puppy to me. (have you seen the guy? have you heard him talk? he’s a doggy!) and watching how he would sort of melt under it. relax back into the concrete just enough to tell me he’s given up. (usually, people would simply dismount (?) him at this point. but i unfortunately need to fuck him so bad that my head hurts when i think about his pussy so. here we are.) since he’s scrunched in half, his belt is pretty easy to undo, and there’s really no reason to be gentle about it - so i think i’d get his jeans up to about midway on his thigh (i would have to take my knee off his tummy but that isn’t really a problem because he’s not gonna fight back.)
he’s a fucking loser. not only because he’s a nerdy sorta freak, but because he lost the fight and he’s being undressed on perhaps the dirtiest concrete in all of the midwest, several hours after dark. non-losers would be at a party, or maybe asleep. (so, basically, he’s fucking embarrassed. a little guilty. kinda like the face doggies give you when they know they shouldn’t have done something, and they just did it in front of you.)
pete’s teary, flushed, and doing his very best to avoid the embarrassment of eye contact right now. because his pants just came off, and the shitty boxers he’s wearing are absolutely soaked through because his dumb ass can’t even get called a bitch without needing to jerk off after. (he nearly came in his pants the second he was on the ground. it’s loser behavior.)
i’d probably be actively making fun of him for it, too. like “jesus christ, dude, one punch and you’re wet through your panties?” or maybe tugging the collar and making a joke about how he must be in heat. follow it up with quite literally any sentence containing the word breed and he’s out of his mind.
i need to shove his boxers up and spread his cunt open. brush his t-dick as gently as i can just to watch him squirm. start off with one finger, dragging it in and out at a pace that would definitely make him whine. (or, try to get up so he can take over - only to be shoved back down by a hand on his throat.) (i want to feel his insides. he’s gotta be super worked up, so no matter how you’re touching him, he’d be twitching.) while he’s probably yipping up a storm (because he’s a puppy! yip yip woof!) i’d take the opportunity to get a second finger in and start on a moderate pace. two fingers, not even going that fast, and he’s losing his fucking mind. uselessly babbling and trying to shove his hips down onto my hand.
absolutely nothing going through his head, i’m sure. if anything, probably some word-soup that ends up only consisting of “puppy, please, cum” or something of that nature. not a single sentence or complex thought. i wanna watch him cum his dumb puppy brains out. barely able to move but thrashing around anyway. i’d get a hand on his collar and pinch it just a little tighter when i feel his cunt start to seize up. (i think he’d start silently, or maybe just with a mumble (something like “fuck, i’m cumming, m’ gonna cum.” again. no complex thought in that thing!) and then devolve into whining as loud as humanly possible. borderline barking. cause. yeah. you get the gist. woof.) i wanna watch him shaking and trying to compose himself after - eyeliner running down his face, red cheeks, bloody lip from our fight.
i feel like this is already too long so i’ll leave rhis one here and maybe come back later to put another incredibly long psot int he askbox. You know what it’ll be. i’ll be fucking that band guy that barks
-⚙️ gear anon :-)
.
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I'm not dead!
Hey look here's a redraw of the really terrible bit of digital art I did for last year's Mar13 day as proof! Apparently I didn't even finish the first one on time! Yikes!
I'm well aware that it's been a minute or two since I last posted anything on here or on AO3 - to be more precise, it's been since Splatoon 1 died and I wrote that 8000 word depressing thing - I don't know why 8000 words always seems to be my sweet spot, but it's good to know that I have one. That being said, and with Side Order: Dark Side Mix currently MIA, I thought it'd be a good idea to to have what it is that I'm doing right now on-record in some capacity, for the one or two people who were wondering.
The next few weeks are exam season, so I don't think it's going to be smooth sailing per se, but Dark Side Mix will be completed. After running into a snag with the opening act - namely with the fact that it sucks - I started reworking the entire fic from top to bottom under a new name...and then I lost motivation to do that because perfectionism set in, and I haven't really touched it in a little while.
In the time that I've been away from it, I feel like I've become increasingly aware of how that perfectionism negatively effects me and my work - namely the fact that very little of it actually exists. I mean, sure, people seem to like the stuff that does exist, but there isn't much, and a lot of things are unfinished - usually because I placed too much value on the potential of "the idea", and spent so long labouring over the start of it that by the 10,000 word mark I had realised the flaws of the idea and lost interest in it.
I can't help thinking that's a bit lame. Every other writer has 100s and thousands of words of terrible amateur works they can go back to and laugh at, before they created the masterpieces they're known for now, and my story is that I just kinda show up every once in a while.
I think there's a real beauty to that - creating for the sake of creation, with no fucks given. Maybe this isn't the finest example, but I finally started listening to My Dad Wrote a Porno recently and...I mean... the sheer lack of fucks given is well and truly a gift that keeps on giving. Same goes for Philosophy of the World. Or SMG4 back in like 2014. Or old Eddsworld stuff. There's just a certain carefree joy (or existential dread in the case of the Shaggs) to it all that you never get anywhere else. It's like the difference between a 30 second gesture drawing and 6 hours of carefully-deliberated-over anatomy.
All that is to say - Dark Side Mix is a fundamentally flawed story. It is not high art, it never will be. I should probably just get it out there in it's entirety for the world to see in the time I have available to write, and then move on to the next "brilliant-idea"-that's-actually-just-ok. Nobody likes an "idea guy" - what good is it to spend one's entire life going around saying "I never finished this story, but it was great in my head, and the bit that you can actually read was alright too,"? Creativity should be about getting in there, making a mess, and having fun - let fanfiction be fanfiction, with that being addressed to nobody but myself, because nobody else needed to hear it.
Oh, also, another reason for my absence besides creative block and exams - I'm getting into comics! That, and practising my art fundamentals a whole bunch - I don't think my drawabox is particularly interesting to look at, so I haven't exactly been posting it. I've decided that I want to try giving an idea I had for what would've been another depressing Squid Sister 8000-worder the comic treatment, although you shouldn't expect to see that anytime soon, considering how long it's gonna take, and the fact that I would want to release something like that in no more than two parts.
#splatoon#beginner artist#marie splatoon#splatoon 3#splatoon fanart#fanart#squid sisters#splatoon fanfiction#splatoon fic#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#vent#writer problems
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living with brian and tim as a female reader
༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶
“okay, who the FUCK keeps using all of my GODDAMN HAIRSPRAY?”
*looks at brian*
“don’t look at me, I ain’t do shit!”
—————————————————
“im gonna ask the two of you one last time, who took my last fucking cigarette?”
*silence*
“she was asking for a lighter two hours ago-”
“FUCKING SNITCH”
—————————————————
“i know you have my fucking hoodie so GIVE IT BACK”
“it’s FUCKING COLD is chivalry DEAD?”
“it’s seventy degrees in this house”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP”
—————————————————
*arguing about who’s doing grocery shopping*
“okay guys i think i figured out a solution”
*listening with attitude*
“NOSE GOES”
“HAH”
“FUCK”
—————————————————
“please?”
“no”
“please?”
“no”
“please?” *in unison*
“NO how about you dumb bitches GET A FUCKING LICENSE? you’re both in your twenties for fucks sake”
*attitude filled stairs”
*sigh* “where are we going?”
——————————————————
*having a serious argument (she finds out they’re serial killers)*
“how about we fucking kill you and nobody finds out what happened to you?” *in her face*
“oh well WOMP FUCKIN WOMP! you two numb nuts couldn’t figure out a solid plan without choking each other out so GOOD FUCKIN LUCK”
“why’d we think this was a good decision”
“what, being serial killers? because yeah that’s pretty fucking edgy-”
“no i meant moving in with you”
these are just meant to be funny don’t come for my head for wanting to have a lil bit of fun thank ya :3
#creepypasta#lockspastatalk#marble hornets#hoodie#masky#brian thomas#tim wright#mh headcanons#mh#random thought dump that’s not actually that funny but wtvs
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i genuinely don't think most people understand how lonely immigrating to this fucking country is
#people: wait hahaha wym u don't have like a friend group u go for drinks with on the weekends? :)#i've lived in 3 different states over the past 8yrs and spent extended periods of time in 3 other states + 4 other countries. so. it happen#and it's not like anyone sticks around those cities/states bc the schools i went to are like. yknow. people move to go to them#but then they leave. and then ur allllll fucking alone all over again.#also couple all of this with being poor + having to work + a goddamn pandemic + not having family here#like i don't want to be like lamenting here bc i want to make friends and i'm trying but also? it's fucking hard?#like if ur working 40hrs a week it's just like almost completely unfeasible#i have like three (3) friends in this city and lol one of them is thinking of moving#immigration just fucking sucks honestly#nobody moves because they fucking want to. they move because they have to#can we live in a world where this isn't the case
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Something I also love about Heartbreak High is how the main character is just so silly <33 Like Amerie doesn't try to be cool or fit in or anything. She's silly and weird and she knows that and she's confident in that and that makes her such a lovely and amazing main character <333
#like seriously#often the main character is kinda boring#because they always have to be this misunderstood outcast who just wants to have friends#but not amerie#she cares and she loves and she protects with all her heart and she is so fun and silly goofy and sometimes she fucks up and she's amazing#i love her so so dang much!!!!#heartbreak high#amerie wadia#lea's random thoughts#i also love how heartbreak high comes much closer to actual social relationships between sudents than a lot of other highschool shows do#like nit everybody hates everybody actually#and sometimes people become accidentally and unexpectedly close friends#like amerie with darren and quinni#that happens#and things pass#like you won't actually be forever knows for that one embarassing thing you did one time#nobody calls amerie map bitch anymore#because people move on#anyways#i'm too tired to write more about this but maybe some other time
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Maaaaaaaaaaaan, come on.
(the post has ended up in the tags btw. I am not changing this and I need you to understand that it is just me talking to myself semi-publicly)
#Nevi Writes#things said by a guy writing a thing he doesn't even intend to be writing and it's like 10k of words now. >:[#while that's true I do want to emphasize that nobody should get excited about it right now tho okay#because like it's just. idk. I feel very much like it could end up not worth pursuing anyway. it's just a little baby wip.#(when the fuck did my little baby wips get to be 1/4-1/2 the length of my previous 'finished' stories!! what the hell)#it just feels nice to make words tho. and it does have that kind of 'ah good to catch up with these guys again' vibe which is nice.#even if the break has once again been like. on the order of days to a week maybe. I'm so bad at this taking a break business suddenly. lel.#but I don't have anything much to say about it at this point#other than I'm debating inventing a reason that presidential elections would have been moved by a couple of years between now and 2212#what is it with me and having to be so damn precise with dates in this whole narrative. am I just mad that Capcom never tries?#(yes) (so mad)#(and 2212 would actually be an election year is the problem. I want time to have passed but I also want there to be a pres. election.)#(it's fine don't worry about it)#(this is how I decided that Blucifer got bload up and then replaced also. weird reliance on mashing up IRL things and fictional explosions)#(but it's fun isn't it? got that veneer of verisimilitude. I'm good at long words)#idk this is inevitable isn't it. but I'm going to keep playing like it's not. I think I need a little more space for this one mentally.#the first one just sort of fell out of my head fully assembled and the second one did that also but with different vibes#though it did actually take some cutting things and adjusting things to make it work which Failure to Compile did not#Failure to Compile was bizarrely effortless until the mad editing dash. Outcome Unpredictable was WORK#fun work at least! but in hindsight it was definitely more work to make it flow properly.#the real job for the 3th if it happens is gonna be wrapping up threads without dropping new ones in bc that's such a habit of mine now
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Anatomia, a see-through vampire from underground
#i’m gonna be real with you this is a monster high OC that got out of hand#but don’t tell nobody#sketch#doodle#oc#actually fuck it I want exposure#monster high#hiiiiii girlies#the graffiti pattern on her shirt is cuz she lived in the subway tunnels#she had to move out because she's too tall for all the cramped spaces#and her doll would have glow in the dark bones painted on :)
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I think the last bit of sanity I had disappeared when I was in Italy
#i genuinely cannot put up with the shit i have to deal with anymore#and i feel like im on the verge of actually just snapping#goooddd ill be SO happy the day i move out#because im fucking cutting ties with my shitty stepdad the moment i drive away from this place#im just. so done#i want to move to my grandmas where i know i can be happy#when im over there i dont constantly wish something would just happen to me that would kill me#sorry for the rant#i aint got nobody else to rant to so im just yelling out into the void at this point#i needed to get that out of my system
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see the reality is i post on my rps usually when nobodys been there a bit and nobody is probably online, but the mental illness in me keeps saying its bc everyone secretly hates me and i dont deserve love, and when i tell a gov doctor that, they basically just say ‘take your antidepressant’s and shut up’ which is also funny when said gov doctor wont refill my fucking antidepressants in the first place
#what i need is smthn for my anxiety and PROBABLY the obviously worsening ocd#but anxiety meds and antidepressants dont mix well#just like adhd meds and anything else dont mix well#which is why i just have a redbull if i need to focus bx it works for a few hours and then i pass out#which isnt healthy but its better than going through the diagnosis process AGAIN bc they dont have my info anymore#its early sad times rn w brina who hasnt gotten an ounce of treatment at all hi#see the other thing is#if i talk about my mental health at all#people will either hate me for being annoying which is what my brain will pinpoint#or feel sorry for me which i also dont want#all i rly wanna do is vent but thats never really an option at all#like yes i know its not normal to want to have a breakdown and cry bc your fucking pillow isnt the correct fluff and wont dluff#i know its not normal to feel like you should die because something wasnt in fhe spot you put it in and was moved slightly#im aware. and the reality is nobody who can do anything about it cares#i have to get an authorization to see a therapist or get meds at all even tho the card claims i dont have to#and the doc tbey gave me wont give me one#they dont allow email so i cant leave a paper trail when bitching at them and my calls go ignored#im losing my mind steadily#and thats not even onto the physical problems#but also the sheer fucking audacity of the website being all ‘oh just go to ERs and UC snd we’ll cover it’ vs hospitals specifically saying#‘we will refuse you if you have Gov Ins unless you have the money to pay out of pocket#if youre on gov insurance you dont have fucking money thats the entire fucking point. you creedy fucknuts go shove tour nepotism in your#fucking eyes and die if anyone doesnt deserve to fuck its you fuckfaces#sometimes i just want to scream esp when this doesnt seem to be most other ppls issues#but then i talk to other women and it is#it just doesnt make sense and i hate it#but i never rly got help on private insurance either so#tbd#depression cw
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hmm. had an actual conversation with nightmare coworker today that seemed mutually productive. she apologized for saying some bullshit that hurt my feelings and i clarified that my intentions are to help not to undermine her, and we both agreed that there's no competition against each other and that it's the lack of growth in our role that's the problem. it was...productive.
and further cementing for me that it is time to begin making my Exit. i will be sending out my resume to a few places this weekend.
i'm still processing the conversation, and am struggling to place myself in where i am responsible to better my behavior. because i genuinely don't want to be an ass, even though i really don't like this lady and will jump for joy the day i never have to see her again. she stated that she knows my intentions aren't to hurt her, and that she thinks i'm very kind. i apologized for if my behavior came off as undermining her, and said that my intentions are only to better my own growth—and that i know she's trying to succeed too. i validated her feelings, and complemented the effort she is putting in.
where i'm struggling with is: am i in the wrong/causing harm and needing to change if the issue is that her feelings are incongruent with what she knows of my intentions? her feelings are her responsibility (WOW i almost typed "her feelings are my responsibility". i feel like that's a freudian slip) and she states that she knows i don't mean to hurt her. i'm going to try to be more clear in wording my intentions with her (she feels like me trying to take work off her plate is to undermine her. when really, i'm caught up and see her getting overwhelmed, and i want to help and also have something to do since i'm bored).
but i'm really struggling to look at my role in this and pass judgement on myself. i can and want to do better, and i don't think i did anything wrong, but i'm always so hesitant to say it's not my fault or i didn't do something bad. like i can't trust my judgement on that. my intentions were good, her bad feelings are ones caused by her insecurities, which she more or less has expressed to be aware that they are not true—the hurtful thing she said to me, she acknowledged was said out of hurt and not what she actually thinks. so, is it fair to say i'm not the bad guy? i'm not in the wrong? i know good intentions that still result in harm don't absolve anyone, but when the things that are clashing are insufficient communication and reactive insecurities... i'm not a monster, am i?
#well. i AM probably a monster for how much i dislike this lady#but i don't ACT on it#and i genuinely couldn't care less about her. i participate in decent human pleasantries because i am a decent human.#and at work we're stuck together#the thing that's irked me so much about this conversation is just.. her self centeredness#that she thinks everyone is out to get her. to undermine her. whatever.#bitch nobody cares about you enough one way or the other to put in that kind of effort. i sure don't#i empathize but i do not sympathize. to feel that pit that makes you feel like the worst kind of center of attention#i get it. but genuinely you are not the main character and no one is going to spend their limited time and energy to slowly attack you#you are not the cat with all the knives pointed at it#it's a terrible feeling to feel like you are! but when it influences your behavior to the point that you are making snide comments#to people who have no option not to interact with you then uh. then you're in the wrong buddy#and the people around you (who cannot easily leave! bc work!) should not have to bend over backwards to assure you#that they're not pointing knives at you. to protect themselves from your feelings making you say mean shit#like yes. i can be more clear with my intentions. i'm generally not the greatest at that. but my baseline that i want to#modify my behavior from is NOT one that a regular well adjusted person would take as anything but kind#and if a regular well adjusted person got a little offput by me volunteering to take work off their hands we would've had a very chill#3 sentence conversation about it MONTHS AGO.#i understand and respect (even if i find it annoying and overbearing) the need for me to announce my intentions like im working in a kitchen#and saying 'hot water' or 'knife' as i move around other people but we shouldn't have reached this conclusion this way#and frankly who's to fucking say me being more clear with my intentions will only feed the flames of her thinking i'm out to get her!#'i caught up on my stuff and your plate looks full. i'm bored. anything i can do to help?' could be a pointed knife for all i know!!#and if it is- and my actions still hurt her in that scenario- am i still responsible for the hurt caused??#like WHERE DOES IT FUCKING E N D ?#personal#*exhales* okay i feel better now#i just hate talking about my interactions with her bc i just want NOTHING to do with it. i want her out of my head!!#but until i process it i can't let go#and i'm still going to have to go over all of this with my shrink tomorrow#it just makes me mad how much of my time this bitch takes up. i'm not getting paid to think about work right now!!!!
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