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kaiyonohime · 2 years

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Sherry Tenney; the saga continues

Pinned post on the topic of Sherry Tenney

On Sunday Sherry Tenney, the fleece scam artist in Pennsylvania, posted a rant threatening to sue me.

Here is the video, but I have pulled the relevant info out into text thanks to a transcriber from the Ravelry group Demon Trolls.

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>He read some stuff that somebody uh posted on Tumblr which is 100% deframation of character and we have to sue them now. Um saying I have diseased animals on my farm and that I’m unhinged and I carry guns to go to Rhinebeck and all that, and he’s decided to go ahead and prosecute them. We’re gonna go ahead and sue. But because of that, we have decided..this piece of SHIT on Tumblr and I have the list, and the stuff that she has said is horrible. We have her name, we’re gonna go ahead and sue, but we are not going to hold a class on the property.

She saw my tumblr! She read multiple of my tumblr posts! I’m just so honored to now have a brief starring role in her insanity! I never thought the likes of Sherry Tenney would even know what tumblr was, let alone leave FaceBook to lurk here and learn how to search and read posts!

There are tears. Honest, happy tears. She’s angry because I’m doing my part to warn others about her scam, and help protect other fiber artists. Because, really, that is my goal. The fiber arts community needs to help one another and be warned about the stinging wasps that sometimes prey upon us.

Now, to address her threatening to sue me: she’s been threatening to sue members of the Demon Trolls group for six months now. Not a single piece of legal paperwork has ever been filed or received. It’s all bark and bluff. And, on top of that, she doesn’t have my legal name or information. Nor does tumblr to give to her. Not that I think for a moment that @staff would give her my information without a court order in the first place.

And, honestly, it’s not defamation of character to speak the truth. There are screenshots to back everything I have posted up. Screenshots, and excel files, and video recordings of her rants! The fine folks at Demon Trolls have been documenting every single move she has made, and everything she has said. I’ve just summarized it and posted it here because I know not everyone goes to Ravelry, and especially not the forums.

If anyone would care to go to Ravelry, they have all the video files and screenshots of every single thing I have posted about this mentally unhinged woman. Because, honestly, when you start writing Supernatural fanfiction of you fighting demons at a gas station and pass it off as real life events on your business FaceBook page as an update of your life, you are clearly a mentally unwell person.

But hopefully Sherry Tenney and Jim Tenney can remember to get the uuuuuurrrrrlllll right when they go to the court to try to sue tumblr.

For those curious about the ‘url’ joke, here’s another hour long video rant of hers showing her mental state. Warning, it’s fairly disturbing, and it does not get better. In fact, partway through the video she starts feeling herself up a touch and seems to get some sort of sexual satisfaction about her violence filled rant.

It is divided up into parts on this Google Drive. Everything on this Google Drive, including a hefty screenshots folder of what Sherry Tenney says on her public business FaceBook account, is posted. Please feel free to watch this video and explore the Google Drive for more evidence about what Sherry Tenney has done, and please warn others.

Link to Google Drive and the video rant

And, as always, Sherry Tenney is to be considered dangerous. DO NOT APPROACH. She is currently advertising in her Etsy store that she is hosting a class. Do NOT sign up for that class as a joke. She is considered to be dangerous at all times and to be avoided in person at all costs! We do not want anyone hurt because of this! The Pennsylvania Attorney General is informed and taking actions against her, although the wheels of justice are much slower than we would like. Please be safe and warn others!

#sherry tenney #sherry vondorp #sherry tenney is a scam artist #warning for violence filled video rant #warning for mentions of animal abuse #warning to the fiber arts community

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raviniaraven · 1 year

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Hey just a heads up if you're going to Minneapolis Pride this weekend, if you pass a booth with people asking you to watch a video and they'll pay you a dollar, don't do it. They're a group like PETA that's trying to trick you into watching a graphic video about animal slaughter. It's a ten minute video of animal gore that they're trying to play off as activism. If you are any type of sensitive to gore, don't watch the video.

This isn't any sort of criticism of vegans or vegetarians, this is just a friendly warning about groups that want to show you animals dying and covered in blood. Regardless of your opinions on animal welfare, that's not okay to show to people with no warning.

#this group has been at Pride in Loring Park before so i just wanna warn people in case theyre here this year #if you still wanna do it go ahead but they dont really give any content warning #just 'hey well give you a dollar to watch this' and thats all you get #pride #minneapolis #minneapolis pride #animal abuse #animal violence #if theres something i forgot to tag this with lemme know and ill add it i know some people get really upset by mentions of this stuff

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woaheyeradioboy · 2 months

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I genuinely don't fucking care what you like in fiction. I don't care how disgusting, heinous, or "illegal" (not actually) it is, as long as you aren't agreeing with it or acting out things you read in a non-roleplay/fiction setting.

TW: Rape, Child Abuse, Pedophilia, Age gaps, Abuse, Bestiality, Grooming, Incest, and similar content

You can read about someone being raped. You can read about a child being raped. You can read about incest. You can read about pedophilic incest. You can read about someone fucking a dog. You can read about someone being raped by an animal. You can read about someone grooming someone else. You can read about horrible power imbalances. You can read about Victim x Abuser. You can read about gang rape. You can read all of that and more, whether the content is "romanticizing" or "sexualizing" it or putting it in a "positive light", because I do believe if you're reading these things you are capable enough to not have your morals and "respect" of laws immediately broken because you didn't get told 100 different times during the story how bad the content was.

You can read WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT, however you want, forever and ever. Don't act out the fiction in real life unless roleplaying with another consent adult (or teenager within your age range if you're not 18+) and it DOESN'T MATTER.

Fiction can affect reality, but usually only if you're allowing it to. Children oftentimes shouldn't be online but even if they are, it is never an authors fault or the people who enjoy the fiction the author writes that the child ends up exposed to bad things. If someone who is mentally unwell and cannot separate fiction and reality due to this is online and is affected by these things, it is not the authors fault or the fault of the people who enjoy the authors fiction.

If something that someone else wrote affects someone else in a bad way, it is not the authors fault.

Censorship of fiction is bad no matter what, and if you want to censor any form of fiction you are automatically already getting closer to people like transphobes and racists and ableists, because being pro-censorship ALWAYS leads down the same exact rabbit hole of puritan beliefs and controlling others.

#Static Broadcast #profic #comship #anti censorship #anti purity culture #pro fiction #proship #tw r4p3 #tw child abuse #tw pedophila mention #tw age gap #tw abuse #tw animal abuse #tw inc*st #the fact that the trigger warning tags are censored can easily be an add on to my point tbh

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antiendovents · 25 days

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Atlas duo's creator here, got called a dog rapist and told to slit due to believing in reality shifting so that's fun. (I'm debating on following through tonight.)

please don't do it. I know it's hard, harassment is the worst, it's horrible and you don't deserve it. Take a break, turn of anon on your blog and step away. It might seem hard but it can help to take breaks and just get away from it all. Don't follow through, don't listen to them, they don't know anything. You are not a dog rapist, it was not your fault and you should not hurt yourself, especially not because people don't like what you believe in. Your beliefs are your beliefs, you aren't hurting anyone and you don't deserve hate for them. Please go take care of yourself, take a break. We love you (platonically) and we love what you're doing, you don't deserve this.

I know I've said it a lot, but please step away and take care of yourself, especially if it's affecting you this much. If needed turn off the ask box entirely, block anyone who says bad things, if you have other mods on the blog maybe they can help you with blocking people? Either way please know we are here for you, you are loved and cared about. Don't listen to the people telling you these things, they're stupid and unreliable. You're an amazing person and you don't deserve this. No one deserves this.

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just-antithings · 4 months

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I JUST REMEMBERED THAT ONE VILLAIN ANTISHIP SELFSHIP BLOG and they were like you aren't welcome if you selfship w villains who've hurt animals then their own f/o were serial killers and micheal afton

Effervescent

#mod erin #ask #just anti things #dni hall of shame #caps warning #serial killer mention #animal abuse mention

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funpuddle · 1 year

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on instagram in 2017 when i was in either middle school or freshman year hs someone sent me a video of a cat getting decapitated because i started a fight with them telling them that shipping KO from OK-KO and Rad is wrong because of the age gap between the characters and they didnt stop sending gore videos until i was like “your dad probably beats you” and they said that was too far

#animal abuse mention #post-parody internet absurdism era #trigger warning #this is funny to me now in the way where i don't smile or laugh but its so fucked up i just need to see it typed out

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s1mpl3sp0ng3 · 2 months

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i would really really love it if the anti-animal abuse charity ads would stop using pictures and videos of abused dogs because it is. insanely triggering. haha.

and that when i say i don't want to see the ad that tumblr wouldn't just keep replaying it. haha.

#i get it i get why they do it it's to make you feel #but one of the ads was just a slideshow of abused dogs with no warning #animal abuse mention

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meatriarchived · 6 months

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𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃. / just some small thoughts on danny's dire trajectories.

ive been trying the last some days to really piece together the idea of danny adopting aliases like maria or lee or connie in the dires and honestly? truly just don't think the guy has the mental really to get creative about it like them

esp w. the scenario of him knocking down luda & getting absolutely beat down over weeks for it?

Choke Chained & danny's lil like. crossover routes ( ie. him showing up in a nosy trajectory w. maria & lee ) really is more of a look into how someone functions when they've quite literally been broken. not damaged, not scared into submission, but pushed and beaten and ground into the dirt so badly, so prolonged, that its literally a death in its own right so to speak.

like, following that entire experience danny is still very much loyal and still warm to a point with the others if theyre there too ( ie. nosy ) but really do think how absolutely traumatic - not just mentally or emotionally but also just frankly physically too - how it must have been to literally be repeatedly thrown on the cusp of death over and over and over, how internally there was a sense of dread at the idea of recovering and coming out alive on the other end of the tunnel. how internally there was the fight of just letting yourself go vs i dont want to give any satisfaction in doing so - despite that theres still the satisfaction gained by completely destroying you instead from the outside in.

dragging my point back in re: aliases with danny,

guy really has no need for them ( 'aww but dont you wanna be creative and silly wi-' "no." fdsbhjk just deadpan like no need sorry not tryna be an ass but- ). there was never really a mark he'd left on society pre-house so who cares really if anyone could connect any dots? he may toss out a random name in passing but theres no personas to slip a mask on for, theres no intricate backstory really he pieces together for any or for himself. thats really not what his 'purpose', so to speak, is.

mentioned before but, dont pull danny out for hunts when you want to really toy around. you pull him out by choke chain to kill. he's not sitting in bars to really engage with targets like maria does. he's lurking silently around, watching carefully, keeping low profile and listening, observing. he waits for cues to move - be it maria or lee making eye contact with him, or them either doing the same to johnny and seeing him get up first.

he follows suit - he rarely exactly makes first move, in part to not cause any unnecessary attention, but also because his stupid, rage-blinded choices prior already drilled lesson deep into ribcage.

for how he works, its just an unneeded detail really. he just needs to know who to lock jaws on. anything else that may happen, people approaching him, flirting happens, whatever, then he'll roll with it but all the rest is glitter really. if you want someone dead, without complaint, without time wasted, then you pull him out.

#dire things likely mentioned so ofc warning in general i doubt im going into much detail but yknow-#[ d ] ── * 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄. { choke chained. }#[ d ] ── * 𝐇𝐂 / 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄. { danny. }#animal abuse mention /#sorta? for the next tags mostly but yknow-#its giving fight dog straining so harshly against choke collar that the prongs have been long-embedded into throat and its just #waiting for grip on it to be released to let him loose on something in front of it.

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asherisawkward · 8 months

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What topics don't you discuss? I mean, you have posts about sex and abuse, so I think you can discuss everything. But still, are there any restrictions? Or should I ask something, wait a couple of days and if there is no answer, then write down that you do not discuss this topic?

Like, I have a couple of headcanons about rape. Can you discuss this topic?

I’m fine with talking about most things because I feel like we censor ourselves a lot in our daily life and think that it’s a touch overzealous. I’d say that I’m not fond of needles or straight up torture or those kinds things. You can send me your headcanons (I’m guessing they’re about an Owl House character) assuming that they aren’t graphic or conspiring/excusing it.

Just a warning, I will most likely delete asks that feature animal abuse, because I’m ridiculously sensitive to that stuff. If people want, I can start a list of do-not-ask stuff.

#Boundaries #Trigger Warning: mentioned rape and animal abuse #Ask

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i-hit-my-sire-with-my-car · 2 years

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Frenzy

The bucket of blood and wine mixture reeked of mistakes. What bits Rowan had managed to drink now decorated the side of the barn wall. They would have to clean that up, but for now, Rowan was simply too tired. Something they didn't even know Kindred could feel.

Slumping against the wall Rowan noticed the blinking light of a message. It was Antonia! Hope flowed through-out Rowan like a cooling spring river. One that was quickly filled with bile and oil the moment they read the message.

Who does she think she is?

It was a familiar voice, Rowan's. But at the same time, not theirs. Something far deeper, far darker. The Voice that called for violence. For blood. For Dominance. For Control. A voice Rowan tried often to ignore.

This BITCH of a woman reprimanding you. As if you are nothing more than a child.

Rowan's beast wasn't lying. Whether on purpose or due to her undead years, Antonia spoke to Rowan as if she was speaking down to a child. And what was worse is she was doing it now, after Rowan's hadn't heard from her. Not a single update about Mia. Mia the first person in Rowan's life who ever showed them an ounce of kindness. And in the defense a man Antonia herself has had spats with.

Aren't you tired of being treated less than. Like you have been your whole life.

"Yes." Rowan whispered down at their phone as they finished the reply to Antonia.

They were so tired. Rowan was trying, so hard to play the good Camarilla Kindred. To follow the rules upon rules upon rules. But it was never enough. Even speaking plainly needed correction. And heaven forbid they said anything untoward the precious Ventrue clan.

With a strength Rowan was unaware they had, the phone was crunched in their first. Rowan couldn't be sure, but it almost felt like their blood was pumping, and along with it, the best drug they had ever taken.

Rampaging. Tearing. Slashing.

The feeling of flesh between fingers. The taste of blood. The pure ecstasy of unbridled carnage.

A high that made Rowan feel as if they could reach the stars.

And just like all good highs.

The shaking, disorienting, confusing crash.

Rowan's phone was no longer in their hands. Instead they found their hands buried deep within the guts of a pig. The one they had been lent. It wasn't moving or breathing.

Pulling their shaking hands out, they found thick claws where their nails had once been. Rowan watched as they slowly disappeared leaving behind just a hint of the presence.

As the fog cleared from their head, Rowan looked around the barn. It had been destroyed. THEY had destroyed it.

Bloody tears rushed down Rowan's face as the beast within their mind cheered with glee.

LOOK AT YOUR STRENGTH

"No." Rowans voice shook. "No NO! I'm not like this. I'M NOT VIOLENT"

LOOK

Rowan couldn't look away. This was it. This was Frenzy. What Rowan had done. The pig. Gods the pig could have been a person. A Friend.

Pulling their knees to their chest Rowan laid on the floor of the barn. Covered in dirt and blood.

"I don't want this. I don't want to be like him. I don't want to hurt people. I don't want to loose control." Rocking and crying Rowan slammed their hands over their ears in an attempt to drown out their beast. "I AM NOT VIOLENT. I AM NOT GONNA HURT PEOPLE. I AM BETTER THAN HIM."

But the high. It lingered in Rowan's chest and in the back of their mind. It had felt so good. Nothing Rowan ever did in their human life could touch the place they just went too. And a part of them, along with their beast, wanted to go back.

#Longform Writing #Not an rp post #MANY CONTENT WARNINGS #Gore #Blood #Animal Death #Drug mention #Abuse implied #Drug Addiction implied #If I missed anything let me know

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imconfusedbutok · 6 days

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some lore for Kaito and Douma I have in my fic: ⚠️⚠️HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING AHEAD⚠️⚠️

Kaito was born as Sakura Okane and grew up in a very poor family, his mother was lured in by the cult and she became a devoted follower before her mysterious disappearance. Yes he is TRANS!! Yippee some representation✨

With his mother gone, Kaito was bound to become a personal servant to Douma. They were both small children at the time, Douma being 6 and Kaito being 5

both of them suffered severe abuse from Douma’s mother and father, physical, mental, you name it- it probably happened.

This caused both children to grow unhealthily attached to one another- or well, Kaito attaching himself to Douma, who was so messed up he couldn’t feel emotions/form attachments to people

Douma actually has a split personality disorder. His main/birth personality was named “Kagutsuchi,” meaning “shining force.” Douma was the name he chose for the more demonic part of himself, the part of him that was manipulative and cruel and… everything he shouldn’t be.

They both were forced to watch the murder/suicide of Douma’s parents and it left both of them heavily scarred.

Douma actually has schizophrenia, which was what made his parents believe he could hear the voices of god. It wasn’t god. And it only worsened with time, driving him insane and turning him into a canibalistic, sadistic and violent monster long before he was turned into a demon.

if you want more lmk✨ and if you want the fic I’ll give it 🥰

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haveyouseenthishorrormovie · 4 months

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SUMMARY: A love triangle develops between a beautiful yet dangerous vampire, her cellist companion, and a gerontologist.

#the hunger (1983)#vampire #1980s #united states #north american movie #mentionable warning #animal abuse #animal death #horror #movie #poll

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just-antithings · 6 months

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In terms of genuinely problematic art, I'd like people to look up "Authors Behaving Badly - TJ Klune" on YouTube, in which an interview with him reveals that he based his cutesypoo found family happy-orphanage story on Canadian residential schools, i.e. basically concentration camps for Native kids. Now, I'm not gonna say people can't write about atrocities they and their ancestors didn't experience, but IT'S NOT COOL TO PORTRAY THEM AS A GOOD THING. As if that wasn't creepy enough, the book is supposed to be feel-good fluff, and he chose to include joking references to suicide and animal torture. Not appropriate.

#mod erin #ask #posted without comment #just asshole things #ask to tag #caps warning #suicide mention #animal abuse mention

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cherienymphe · 6 months

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Everybody Knows That I'm A Good Girl, Officer (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

WARNINGS: Dub-Con, power imbalance, abuse of power, degradation, manipulation, slight stalking, choking, semi public sex, mentions of cockwarming, mentions of gun kink, dom/sub elements, free use elements, jealousy

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

summary: ...and everybody knows. Everybody knows...that he fucks you.

You didn’t know a thing about Coriolanus Snow.

Not until he quite literally cornered you in the meadow one day.

Peacekeepers came and went, especially in District 12, so you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any new face that appeared on the streets of your district in those blue uniforms. In truth, you never took it upon yourself to pay attention to any of their faces. They all perfectly blended together into one faceless being that was merely a puppet of The Capitol, anyway.

However, standing in front Coriolanus Snow, you wondered how you missed him. Not because he was handsome—and he was—but because there was a hard glint to his blue gaze that told you he wasn’t the average capitol dog. Gun tight in his hand at his side, he stared at you like he wasn’t at all surprised to find you there.

He wasn’t.

You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to watch you, silent footsteps shadowing yours as he wondered what you were up to when you crossed the district line. He liked to watch you pick flowers and write underneath a tree and bring back the occasional caught animal for your ma and pa. He watched you play with the children in your district and help that old neighbor with her window…and steal food on occasions when your family couldn’t afford it.

“You could get into a lot of trouble for that.”

His tone was even and strong, but something about it told you that he didn’t want you to get in trouble for that.

“I know,” you told him, jutting out your chin as if challenging him to do something about it.

You said nothing, merely pressing your back to the tree when he moved closer, the gentle breeze ruffling the tall grass around his feet. You said nothing when he stood so close that you could smell him, wondering to yourself what a peacekeeper could possibly have access to that would make him smell so good. You even remained quiet when his free hand reached for yours, the softness of it shocking you, a sharp inhale when he turned your hand over.

Your palm was lightly stained from the bird you’d killed.

You curiously eyed him, a slight frown between your brows as he studied the skin. You drank in his prominent nose, full lips, and those unsettling blue eyes. Staring at them for too long actually made you uneasy, and when his gaze lifted to meet yours, you couldn’t look away fast enough. It only then occurred to you that you were out in the woods alone…with a peacekeeper who could do absolutely anything he wanted to you.

His next words surprised you.

“If someone other than me were to catch you…I can’t imagine what they’d do to you,” he murmured, making your frown deepen. “So, I would advise you to stop.”

By the way the corner of his mouth twitched, you knew that your shock and confusion was all over your face. When he dropped your hand, he pointed his gun at your catch of the day in a gesture for you to get your things, waiting for you to grab your dinner and your book.

You thought that he was letting you off the hook.

You thought wrong.

You learned that Coriolanus Snow was not a good man.

“Your daughter dropped these, ma’am, and I knew she’d kick herself if I didn’t bring these home.”

That smile on his pink lips was perfect, blue eyes twinkling when your mother thanked him profusely for bringing home your groceries—groceries you both knew you didn’t buy. When your eyes met his over her shoulder, that charming smile didn’t move an inch, and the longer he stared at you, the more uncomfortable you felt.

“Thank you,” you told him the next day, seeking him out.

He wasn’t technically on duty, and you found your gaze lingering on the dog tag around his neck. However, you found your gaze lingering on his face instead when he took a step closer, gaze unreadable.

“Anytime.”

It was a strange thing to say about bringing you food that you didn’t buy, and when he took another step towards you, your face pinched ever so slightly. You were all too aware of your close proximity, and when you felt his chest lightly brush against yours, your lips parted in realization. The moment it clicked had your blood running both hot and cold, uneasy and conflicted.

As you stared at each other, there seemed to be a lot of unspoken words between you, Coriolanus with one hand on the wall and you with one hand fidgeting with your shirt. You looked between his eyes, looking for some hint of hesitation, some evidence that deep down this wasn’t something he actually wanted to do…but there was none. There was a resolve in his gaze that felt all too familiar. It was the same determination you were sure was in your gaze anytime you swiped food for your household.

The same determination when your desperation won.

You took a deep shuddery breath.

“Anytime…?” you wondered, keeping your eyes on him.

Something in his face relaxed, evening out as he completely crowded you, now.

“Anytime.”

When his lips met yours, you didn’t exactly know what to do, feeling both unsure and sure at the same time. You were sure that you wanted to live comfortably and not have to wonder how you’d get your next meal, but you were so unsure of how this would end and what this would mean for you. You wouldn’t be the first girl to give herself to a peacekeeper or the mayor or whoever else she needed to just to ease the weight in her chest.

Coriolanus kissed you like he was the hungry one, lips moving against yours in a way that left you breathless. His hand wouldn’t stop kneading into your waist through your shirt, and his other found a home on your face, thumb brushing over your skin and tilting your head back. The only thing to pull you apart was a noise coming from inside the building you were pressed against, and when the blond man told you to hurry home, you did.

You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked obedience.

He wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed repeating himself, and you learned that quickly, so now when he told you to get on your knees, you didn’t hesitate. When he told you to open your mouth, you did, and when he practically begged you to look up at him, you did. Coriolanus would never beg, he would never do that, but it was evident in the way his voice strained—the way the words left him breathlessly.

Or maybe that was because you had your lips around his cock.

With a hand in your hair and a hand on your chin, he gently guided you to take him into your throat again and again. You were no virgin, but there were still a lot of firsts to be had for you, and sliding your tongue over the tip of him was one of them. The feel of his fingers massaging your scalp soothed you, made this less nerve-wracking, and to your surprise, it even stroked a slowly burning fire between your legs.

There was such a stark contrast between the gentle touch of his fingers in your hair and the harsh hold of his hand on your chin. It wasn’t the easiest to take all of him into your mouth, and you couldn’t swallow down the noise that escaped when he hit the back of your throat. His smooth baritone reached your ears when he gently shushed you, softly telling you to use your hands.

“Wrap them around me,” he whispered in the otherwise quiet room.

Coriolanus liked obedience…so you did.

Your hand slid along his length in time with your lips, twisting around his cock, an easy task with the help of the mess you were making. He didn’t seem to mind though, only groaning above you, and when you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes, you took in the way his head was thrown back, the skin of his throat straining and bobbing as he swallowed.

When he lowered his head, you started to look away, but the tightening of his hand in your hair told you not to. You kept your eyes on his as best as you could, sucking your cheeks in and flattening your tongue against the side of his cock. Every bob of your head made him shudder, and you dropped your hand when his hands came to rest on both sides of your head.

Remaining still for the man standing over you, you kept your mouth open as he slowly began to push his hips forward. With every surge of them, his cock dipped into your waiting lips, sliding over your tongue and against the inside of your cheeks. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks as he lost himself in his movements, blue eyes gazing down at you as he filled your mouth.

You didn’t know why—couldn’t understand it—but something about his outright use of your body and your lips had you squeezing your thighs together. It made heat settle in the pit of your stomach, twisting and burning violently until your not-so-subtle movements became noticed by him. In between his uneven breathing, a soft chuckle reached your ears.

“You’ll get your turn.”

…and he was a man of his word.

With the taste of him still on your tongue, Coriolanus had one forearm completely pinning your hips to the bed as he pressed his face between your thighs. Another first ripped away from you, wide gaze on the ceiling as you fought to keep from squirming. The feel of his tongue inside of you was jarring, and you couldn’t stop your toes from curling at the warm feel of it quite literally lapping at you.

Your hands came down to rest on his short blond hair, hips attempting to lift from the mattress, chest arching upwards towards the ceiling. When he hummed between your legs, you felt it all over, and you couldn’t stop the moans that climbed out of your throat. With him holding you down, the only appropriate thing to do was claw at whatever you could, turning your head from side to side.

It wasn’t enough for you to come into his mouth once. Coriolanus needed to know that he was the best you’d ever get, and even when you were out of breath and exhausted and overstimulated, he didn’t let your thighs go, only using them to drag you closer as he knelt between them. His perfect teeth winked at you when he leaned in to kiss you.

If your ma and pa wondered what kind of job you lucked out with to afford all of the food and clothes you started to bring home, they didn’t ask. Although, something in you suspected that they had an inkling of just what you had to do to bring home the freshest bread and the warmest clothes they’d ever had. You started to suspect that everyone did.

Coriolanus wasn’t exactly the most discreet, and you learned that he didn’t intend to be.

On the off chance you crossed paths in the street, he stopped you for all to see, voice lowering as he got really close and asked you how you were. You would feel the eyes of his peacekeeper friends on you as the unspoken questions lingered between you. Did you need more food? Did you need a new dress? You would tell him that you were fine, code for you didn’t need anything at the moment, and he wouldn’t try to hide his perusal of you, those unsettling blue eyes slowly dragging over your frame.

He didn’t seem the kind of asshole to brag about such things, but you weren’t stupid. Even without saying it, he made your arrangement abundantly clear. The way he talked to you, studied you, and ran his fingers over the back of your arm without a care as to who saw. Coriolanus had staked a claim on you, an unspoken display of ownership, and you wrote it off to some sick power trip.

…but you learned that Coriolanus Snow was a very jealous man.

That revelation struck you as odd because you didn’t think anyone would have anything he’d be jealous of, and you certainly didn’t think he’d be jealous over you. You were some average thieving girl whom he exploited the first moment he saw an opportunity to do so. Considering that he was willing to do it to you, you didn’t doubt that he was willing to do it to someone else should he find himself unable to have you anymore. That was what you believed anyway…

Until his fist was ruining the face of some District 12 boy you’d grown up with. You were far from friends, but he’d been a familiar constant in your life for years, and so sharing a drink with him while everyone danced to the live music on stage seemed like nothing at all to you. You didn’t even think there were lines to cross, a sentiment that was quickly corrected.

With one hand curled around your throat—holding you in place—there wasn’t any other option but to take Coriolanus’ thrusts. The sound of guitars and flutes and fiddles bled through the thin walls, everyone quickly moving on from the brief display of violence they’d witnessed. You could still remember the shock on your face as other peacekeepers pulled him off of the unsuspecting man who’d never been anything more than an acquaintance, really.

Your horrified gaze had met that of a familiar blue, and there wasn’t much time to do anything before Coriolanus neared you, reaching for the back of your neck as he walked you away from the crowd. It had been hard to ignore the numerous eyes following your movements, and you wondered now if they quickly moved on from the display because it was nothing or because they were too nervous to get involved with Coriolanus and the girl the whole district knew belonged to him.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out in some back room, your chest pressed to the table.

Your eyes were squeezed shut as he stretched you out, cock pushing into you and throbbing with every push of his hips. You knew that the words wouldn’t change anything, but you felt compelled to say them, anyway. His fingers were tight against your neck, and every time you reached up towards them, he only squeezed tighter. Despite the discomfort, you couldn’t stop your stomach from squeezing, coiling tight as you gripped him.

When he pulled you up so that your back was firm against his, his hold on your neck loosened a bit, and you took a deep inhale. His thumb was pressed to your jaw, and he brought his face down to rest on the other side of your neck where his arm didn’t rest, pressing open mouthed kisses there.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” he whispered against your skin.

It was the truth, and at your silence, he squeezed your neck again.

Your nails scraped against the table he fucked you on, upper body straining as he kept you upright and against him, hips lifting to push his cock into you with the kind of thrusts meant to make a point. When his teeth grazed your skin, you shuddered in his hold, and despite the fact that you couldn’t hear his laugh, you felt it deep within his chest.

“He can’t give you what I can…”

You started to tell him that you knew that, but Coriolanus didn’t let you.

“…so, don’t go thinking he can.”

“I wouldn’t…”

Your words died in the air when he pushed you back down, completely pressed against you and pinning you between him and the table.

“Wouldn’t you?” he hummed, his free hand trailing over your visible cheek. “Everybody knows your price.”

The demeaning words made your stomach turn, but the way he curved his hips against you only had you clenching down on him at the insulting insinuation.

“They see the nicer clothes…the better living conditions…and they know why. They know what you did to get that.”

His lips brushed against your skin with every word, and as if it make his point, he reached down between your legs to brush his thumb over you, making you gasp. With the circling of his fingers, you fidgeted beneath him, toes pushed to the absolute tip to get some reprieve and lips parted as you scraped and clawed at the table.

When he came inside of you, something he never did before, he held you down, forcing you to milk his cock until he was completely satisfied. The nice dress he’d gotten sewn for you was ripped, and you reached up to touch it with trembling lips the moment he let you go. He was so determined to get his hands on you the moment the door was shut that you liked to think it was an accident, but the way you were forced to wear the jacket of his uniform as you walked out made you think otherwise.

Even though Coriolanus was nowhere near you once you rejoined the crowd, his presence was still loud and clear. No one needed to be a genius to figure out where you’d been, and as you glanced around, you realized that he was right. The discreet looks and nervousness around you… Everyone knew.

…and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

You learned that Coriolanus Snow liked to have you whenever and wherever he wanted.

Whether it was in his bunk when he should’ve been on duty or in your room during the early hours of the morning when your pa was in the mines and your ma was asleep or between the openness of the trees when you were only amongst the grass and the birds. He didn’t like disobedience, and so, he didn’t like the word no. So, you never uttered it.

Even when you wanted to.

“Good girl,” he purred into your lips when you did as he wanted, reaching down between you and sliding yourself onto his cock.

It was late when he knocked on your door, gently telling your ma to go back to bed when you answered it. You didn’t know if you wanted to see the look on her face when you left with him, afraid of what you’d see. There was a rare stillness about District 12 when you crossed the district line, Coriolanus’ fingers brushing over your neck the entire way.

The only light was from the moon, his soft hands gripping your hips and guiding you over him. His gaze alternated between your face and his lap where you two connected. Occasionally he lifted his own hips, driving his cock up into you and making you gasp. His hands ran up and down your frame, kneading your skin and basking in the thin layer of sweat that clung to you—to both of you.

“Show me how bad you want it,” he’d murmur in the darkness, completely letting you go.

He opted for leaning back on his elbows, his own pink lips parted, blue eyes glinting under the light of the moon as he watched you fuck yourself onto his cock. Your hands pressed against his chest, keeping yourself upright as your lashes fluttered. There was a burn in your hips that ached too good to stop, the sound of you squeezing him and sliding up and down him loud to your ears.

“Make yourself come,” he’d whisper, refusing to touch you as his voice lowered. “Work for it.”

When you finally did tense on top of him, shuddering and pressing your nails into his chest, the blond man wouldn’t hesitate to circle his arm around your waist, flipping you before you could even catch your breath. Back pressed into the grass, he snapped his hips against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the air.

Under the cover of darkness, Coriolanus allowed himself to lose control, holding your throat and pushing into you—taking full advantage of having you at his mercy. He plunged his cock into your walls, praising how wet you were for him and how snugly he fit inside of you.

“Whenever I want,” he told you.

“Whenever you want,” you agreed, nails digging into his back.

When you returned in the early hours of the morning, your ma never acknowledged it. She never acknowledged how the house stayed stocked with food despite you never going to the market. Her only acknowledgement of the clothes sewn for her were quiet ‘thank yous’…but she knew. Everyone knew.

…and it bothered you less and less until it didn’t bother you, at all.

It couldn’t bother you.

…because if it did you would have to say no when Coriolanus wanted you to rest in his lap, cock fitting snugly inside of you as he held you there. You would have to say no when he brought you another dress he had made or the freshest groceries you would’ve never been able to afford. You would have to say no when he asked if you were his good girl, demanding you prove it as he slid his gun between your legs, telling you to remain completely still.

…but you didn’t say no to any of that because it didn’t bother you—because it couldn’t bother you. Even when the discreet looks were hard to ignore or your ma started to ask if you’d be out late or you started to feel cheap and used. You couldn’t let it bother you.

You were his good girl, and that was what he told you when he tied a pretty delicate ribbon around your neck for all to see one evening.

It was soft.

White.

Just like snow.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #hunger games imagine #hunger games fanfiction #tbosas #tbosbas #tbosbas imagine #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas fanfiction

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cherryredstars · 1 month

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Ok so i have this fic idea where reader and mig are from different universes and reader is a scientist and one time mig and her get drunk and start talking about the multiverse and suddenly they are on the topic of what would happen if people from different universes had a baby together. (You see where i am going with this...) they end up drunkenly fucking and saying it's for "research" because they can't admit to themselves that they are in love. If this request is too complicated feel free to ignore. Thank you in advance cherry!! I hope u have a marvelous new year!! 💕

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Oral Sex, Mentions of Animal Testing (for science), Breeding Kink

A/N: Thank you, love! I hope you're well!!!

You know there is a process.

And you know this isn't it.

There are supposed to be hypotheses and written out procedures. Dependent and independent variables, a control group. Fucking hell, you should be experimenting on fucking mice. You should be limiting the margins of error, should be going with the most direct, straightforward pursuit for results.

And yet...

You don't stop Miguel when he pushes you back onto the couch. You don't pause or even really think when he's pushing your pants down your legs, placing kisses along the skin as he goes. You lift your hips to aid him when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, shivering when his warm breath fans over your exposed sex. If this experiment was in any sense proper, you would get straight into it. Cut out all the unneeded steps. But you can't help but pull his head closer to your aching core, craving the way his warm tongue laps at you. If you weren't already drunk, you would be drunk on this feeling alone.

But god, nothing has even been more satisfying than doing the work. You know the data would be void in a real experiment. The trials bleeding into each other hardly make for adequate data, but the way you beg him for more is involuntary. It feels too good, to have him desperately thrusting into you. It makes your mind numb, and everything you know about your life's passion is erased. The only thing that fills your head is the words Miguel grunts into you ears, promises of fucking a baby into you. Vows to make you bloated with load after load of his cum. That all it'll take is one of his orgasms to make it happen.

You guess that is a hypothesis in itself: Miguel O'Hara can get you pregnant with just one orgasm.

Too bad he's too desperate to find out if that hypothesis is correct. Because he doesn't stop at one. No, he keeps going. One after the other with no breaks in-between. But you guess that's to be expected, he is a man of science himself. A passionate one at that.

He's almost crazed in the way he overstimulates himself. Sweat beading in his hairline as he grunts down at you, watching the way he creamy cock slides in and out of your abused pussy. You've lost count of how many times you've come alone, but you know based on the way your body shivers and jolts that it's far more than you've ever had before. It's almost painful now, the way your next orgasm rips through you and shatters your soul again. You let out strangled breaths as you fight through the aftershocks and the continued pleasure of Miguel's cock slamming against your cervix. You swear you black out before he finally stops, your eyes and mind groggy as he pulls your hips flush against his as he spills into you.

You can feel him trying to push deeper into you as he pants ruggedly, his cock twitching against your walls until he's milked dry. Even when he's done filling you, he stays connected. He collapses onto you, breathing in the linger smell of sweat and sex on your skin.

"Got to make sure it takes."

Well, does the process really matter if you get the desired result anyway?

Part 2 Part 3

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meiieiri · 3 months

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𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: toji will never forget the first night he spent away from the zenin clan and the day he met you.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | song inspo: saw you in a dream, timeless | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: mentions of emotional abuse but generally pretty much a fluff fic where toji and y/n meet for the first time. | a/n: finally launching my little love project called “hidden inventory: the lost tapes”! 🍒

Now isn’t this just perfect?

Toji’s is just one inconvenience away from just going back to the Zenin clan with his tail between his legs. First, he underestimates just how expensive living in Tokyo is so, with what little pocket money his emotionally distant mother gave him before he left the estate, the first thing he does is spend it all on a girl — in broad daylight — he’s heard his brother, Jinichi, talk about those cute little call girls that crawl the streets of Kabukichō with flyers in their hand for thirty-minute “massages”. Naturally, as a young man who is only first experiencing the carnal joys the city has to offer, Toji was curious and he took the bait.

A bait that cost him ¥30,000 and the girl was unfortunately sloppy at best.

Now, he doesn’t have money to buy so much as a soggy red bean pancake for dinner. He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around this dingy part of Shinjuku but as long as the red light district’s trashy ambience is distracting him from the growling of his stomach, then, he’ll stumble around this hellhole until morning.

“Ha! You won’t even last two minutes out there!” That’s what Naobito Zenin, the head of the clan said to him when he left. “Only two things await you when you get out of here, either you’ll die hungry or a cursed spirit will get to you first — either way, you’ll die with your eyes wide open with no one!”

Overrun by his thoughts, Toji doesn’t even notice that he accidentally intruded on a random cockroach and curse-infested alleyway that apparently belonged to some junkie who is now angrily telling him to get lost. “I was just looking for a place to sit down,” Toji scoffs. Weren’t they both bottom feeders in this city? Why was this rancid-smelling meth addict acting like he’s any better than him?

“Well, go sit somewhere else, this place is off-limits!”

It was almost funny how Toji thought that the world beyond the gates of the Zenin estate was any better than the shit show he was born into.

He should have known better than to be enticed by the glitz and glamour of living independently from his abusive family who at least had the decency to feed him maggoty rice from the estate’s second storehouse dedicated to prepare the animals’ food. They also gave him shelter, of course, he’s had to live in the Zenin estate’s shed for a while now since his father discovered he was born useless without an ounce of cursed energy. But at least he was warm, and the termites made him feel less lonely.

He continues on in his aimless quest. The night is still young. There’s plenty of time for self-depreciating introspection.

Hopefully, that grade three cursed spirit that’s been following him around the block for a while now gets to him first before the rain does.

“That guy over there,” your coworker whispers to you from the cash registers. “He’s been there for a while now and he hasn’t ordered anything.”

You look up from your pocketbook, your eyes curiously trained on the rugged looking man whose eyes were downcast, trained on the service water he requested from the counter when he came in. As if he could feel a pair of eyes on him, he looks up, and glances your way for a bit but you quickly hide your face behind your book.

“He kinda looks like trouble, no? Shady too, just look at the scar on his lip…”

“It’s not fair to judge someone like that, Rika-chan,” you whispered to your junior, turning to arrange the menus, painstakingly wiping each one clean with a cloth dampened with sanitizer. A small smirk appears on Toji’s lips at your passive defense of his character and as if to goad you on, he drums his fingertips against the table daring you to say another word. “Anyway, I’ll handle closing the shop tonight. You need to get home since you have class in a few hours.”

That seemed sudden. Rika looks at you funnily before shrugging off her apron in favor of her raincoat. “Well, alright, if you insist. Should I clean up the kitchen at least?”

“I’ll handle it,” you give her a thumbs up, waving her goodbye as she leaves through the backdoor. Now that you’re alone, you could hardly stop yourself from glancing at the mysterious man, and Toji himself wonders if his presence here is starting to turn into a nuisance. You were probably waiting for him to step out so you could close shop for the night but it’s raining hard right now and there are no other places open nearby to take shelter in.

The chair’s feet screeches against the wooden floorboards and you head to the restaurant’s kitchen. Toji stares at your retreating form, looks like he overstayed his welcome. He searches around for a few coins to give to you for your hospitality, of course, it probably doesn’t mean jack shit, but you must have known he didn’t have enough money for a meal when he came in here. You would have realized that immediately. But you allowed him to stay regardless.

You return a couple of minutes later with a bowl miso soup with ginger pork gyoza and shredded cabbages. You set the bowl down in front of him and Toji is thoroughly taken aback, he looks at you dumbfounded. “I don’t have any money,” his voice comes out a little gruffly but you barely flinch at the sharp edge of his tone.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Refilling his water, you explained that while you could have easily stuffed those leftovers back in the freezer, customers wouldn’t want to eat frozen food, so, you decide to heat these items up to give to him instead. “Oh,” Toji answers a little dumbly. “Or you could have thrown them out.” He stares at the sumptuous meal in front of him. Even in the Zenin estate, he never had such good food laid out in front of him before and it was surreal to see a stranger do the things his family should have done for him.

You return to the counter, leaning on your forearms as you engage in light banter with him. “You’re saying I should feed rats over people?” you chuckled, sitting back down, smiling softly when Toji gingerly bringing the bowl of miso soup to his lips, the rich earthy broth warming his throat that he lets out a content sigh.

He smirks at your little remark. “I’m saying you shouldn’t make a habit of feeding strays.” He polishes his soup bowl clean within minutes and you have to remind him to slow down every now and then as you watched him eat ravenously. “You never know when you could get that dainty hand of yours bitten off.”

You blushed pink at that. He was right, being too generous could cost you dearly one day but being the altruistic soul that you are, you’ll probably continue to be graciously selfless despite the risk of being taken advantage of. It’s just how you are as a person who believes that a little kindness can make the world better than it was yesterday. “I…don’t really know about that…whether I get bitten or not by the people I help isn’t really something I can control. The world would be better off if people just learned to be kind to one another.”

Toji hums at your naive countenance, folding his arms over the table. The room is silent for a few minutes save for the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. “You’re kinda dumb, aren’t ya?”

“And you’re a pessimist,” you answered, quirking an amused eyebrow at him. “Who doesn’t even know how to say thank you.” You stand up to clear out the table, a teasing glint in your eyes as your curious orbs collide.

Toji scoffs, leaning against his seat, crossing his legs. At his reluctance, you shake your head, giggling softly. What an infuriating interesting guy. Toji hears the rushing of tap water from behind the counter and he smiles inwardly. The rain begins to slowly stop and he takes this window of opportunity to leave.

You don’t even try to hide your disappointment when you come back to the dining room only to find it empty, the stranger having left nothing in his wake — not a goodbye, not a thank you, and certainly not his name — except a single rusty five yen coin on the table.

Clang-dong!

“Hello, welcome—“ You stop mid-sentence. Your throat constricting with a mix of emotions, the most dominant one being joy at this happy chance, you’d recognize those sharp dark green eyes anywhere despite only first seeing them a week ago. After all, they looked so dangerously beautiful under the dim light of the dining room’s ceiling lampshade. “—back. Welcome back,” you smiled brightly at Toji.

Toji nods, his hand coming up to cover his lips as he coughs once. “Thanks…ah, right — shit, where is it?” After rummaging around his parachute jacket’s many pockets, he finally takes out his wallet and you look at him, bewildered, when he hands a few hundred yen bills to you. “For last week. Sorry I couldn’t pay you back then.”

“It’s fine.” You take his larger, calloused hand and return the money which Toji responds to by stubbornly placing it on the table.

Toji pinches the bridge of his nose when you playfully return the gesture by rolling it up and placing it in his jacket pocket, buttoning it. “Look, it was real nice of you to treat me back then, but I’m not a charity case, alright? I just wanna pay my dues.”

“Then, a simple ‘thank you’ is enough.” Toji just couldn’t understand you. You have absolutely no reason to be nice to him, but you are. For a moment, he begins to fall into the enticing thought that maybe life outside the Zenin estate won’t be too bad after all if there are people like you still around just waiting at random corners to be found in joyful happenstances such as waiting out a storm at a random family-style restaurant over a heartwarming serving of miso soup with tender pieces of gyoza and cabbage.

Relenting, he smirks at you, unable to figure you out. “Thank you.”

“Anyway, need a table for lunch?” you smiled warmly at him as you lead him to the table he sat in a week ago which you now affectionately refer to as ‘his’ table instead of table number four.

Toji nods following your lead and chuckling when you hand him the menu. “Where’s that thing I had last time?“ he oddly flips through the booklet.

“Oh uh…it’s not on the menu actually, but I could make that for you if you’d like.”

“Sounds good.” Toji hands you back the menu. You are just about to scurry away to the kitchen when he calls out to you. “So, do you have a name or should I just keep referring to you as gyoza girl or something?” Embarrassed at the way your knees seem to become weak at his boyish grin, you have to take a few deep breaths before turning around to face him again. “I’m Toji.”

He doesn’t say his last name. He doesn’t feel the need to anymore now that he’s finally closing the door to his past. You nod, noting how the name suited him. It’s brief but strong, muted but loud in its rhythm. Toji. At that moment, you find it impossible to name a prettier sound. After a few excruciating minutes in the kitchen, you come back out with two bowls of miso soup this time around and you sit down on the chair directly in front of him.

“Y/N.”

Toji repeats the melody of your name in his head. “And how much do I owe ya for this, Y/N?”

You shrugged as the two of you dig in, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you chew the steamed gyoza, joining him as he laughs (well, he’s scoffing more than actually laughing, really), his eyes alight with wonder, when you simply say, “Five yen.”

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