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#not re-read again
neet-elite · 2 months
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Kink game, breeding and bondage?
thank you for taking part!!! love chatting about my preferences <3
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BREEDING No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know
it's good content, what can i say. i will admit, i prefer breeding content when it comes to actually breeding, as in with knocking someone up in mind, and not just the idea of it. i also find it weird when fics dive into breeding content all of a sudden, like mid sex and suddenly without prior setting up they're talking about how badly they wanna breed? but thats just my personal preference. breeding is fun to me because it's the ultimate show of love!!! i love you, i want to start a family with you.
Sam is the biggest breeder in my opinion from sdv, though Alex has the biggest breeder balls. i just think sam is such a family man, yknow? he's always wanted a little family life of his own, growing up with his younger brother has made him soft and he yearns to care for a little one of his own. and, he's such an affectionate puppy that he strives to make you feel so loved in that way.
Whitney was crowned best dad by vrel, so he's obviously my dol choice! i HC that whitney didn't have the best upbringing, duh, due to him being a bully now. and so i feel as though he'd want so badly to do things right with his own kid(s), yknow? and yeah he's all bark and big talk, but at the end of the day, i think he's such a romantic (the little i love you note he gives u ugh....) and would love to start a family with you!!
BONDAGE No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know
nothing better than bullying a strong man with some tight ropes, right? i love the power dynamic that comes with bondage, how rather than the dom being in control, the sub is strongly the one giving control. that's neat, right? the only reason it's not higher is because i can find it kind of tricky to write, there's a lot of moving parts arent there? getting tied up is fun too, but again, i find it difficult to write well!
Harvey, Morris, and Elliott from sdv would enjoy being bound i think. submissive men enjoying submissive things. i think they all tend to overthink and get nervous, so removing the aspect of being able to move excites them rather hampers them, yknow?
and from dol, i think... Robin and Kylar would enjoy bondage for the same submissive reasons, but Whitney, Avery, and Bailey would enjoy restricting you because they're evil and nasty and take pleasure in your discomfort </3
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lucabyte · 3 months
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I don't know how everyone isn't also always constantly thinking about how burial rites seem to be potentially one of the few things Siffrin instinctively remembers about their culture. But rest assured. I am in fact always thinking about it.
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Textless version where they're just hanging out. It's fine!
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flowercrowngods · 11 months
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this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)
When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne. 
No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear. 
His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths. 
Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.
Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who— 
Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave. 
But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help. 
They most certainly sound like they do.
With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much. 
“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops. 
Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath. 
“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well.  “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.” 
There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.
What the fuck is happening? 
He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision. 
And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?
Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.
“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!” 
He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one. 
Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared. 
It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.
But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.
His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!
“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."
He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting. 
Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?” 
But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now. 
He doesn’t. 
Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should— 
“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react. 
A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.” 
Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort. 
Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington. 
Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now. 
Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.
Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time. 
He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.
“Munson?” 
Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie! 
“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away. 
Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way. 
“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign. 
Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he— 
The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts. 
“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.
“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.” 
A beat. “Everywhere.” 
Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.” 
“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.” 
He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?” 
“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“ 
He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?
Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech. 
“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.
What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?
What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.
Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what. 
“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”
Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now. 
“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”
Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.
“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.
And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right? 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.” 
Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die. 
And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake. 
“Hagan did that to you?” 
Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”
Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?” 
Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.” 
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.” 
Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.” 
And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?” 
“What?” 
There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?” 
Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more. 
“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.” 
Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.
“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.” 
“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over. 
And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.
He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this. 
He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.
But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly. 
"Where‘re we going?"
And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.
"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.
"Safe?"
"Safe."
"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."
If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.
(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2
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sporeclan · 2 months
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< Previous | First | Next >
Leaf-bare again and we're already off to a bad start :')
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midnightcrows · 1 year
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Commander Wake Me Up Inside
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rinhaler · 13 days
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STOLEN AGAIN
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I genuinely didn't know if I could be bothered to announce this again but I can't let it slide.
This is the second time that I'm aware of that this particular fic has been stolen. Granted, from what I can tell the only thing that is similar seems to be the smut, but that isn't the point. I don't particularly know how to go about this because as most of you know I'm not at all fond of the ao3 interface and I rarely use it.
But I wanted to post here because as we know, fic plagiarists seldom write anything for themselves. The ao3 date is confusing me a lil but I think they posted this chapter just two days after I posted my fic? I can't say for sure but it doesn't inspire hope for this particular poster that they are writing for themselves.
I was torn about whether to make a post about this at all because last time my work got stolen it made me so incredibly anxious and paranoid. I was physically and mentally drained because of it and I didn't know if I wanted to go through that again.
However I'm willing to take the risk because I know it's the right thing to do, and the fact that other moots or fellow writers could have had their work stolen by this person is the main reason I am doing this. It takes an incredible amount of energy, time, and passion to write or do anything creative and we are doing it for free because we want to and because it's fun. And to have that trivialised by being stolen for ?? laziness ?? clout ?? I don't know, it sucks.
I really do hope this author does write for themselves and just had a moment of weakness.
The writing clearly isn't entirely copied and pasted but has been tweaked slightly, I'm assuming in hopes of getting away with it? But at that point wouldn't it be better to just actually write something yourself?
Anyway, hopefully this user hasn't stolen from anyone else, but just in case I will link their fic below. It's a big multichap series and I honestly wouldn't have known if an anon hadn't have told me.
my fic // their fic
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uisgeart · 3 months
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Black Water Demon Xuan
"Although his steps appeared slow, the distance between him and the two brothers grew signifcantly shorter with each one he took. It looked as though, in just a few more steps, he'd be able to touch the hems of their robes."
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batfleckgifs · 3 months
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Batfleck + The Dark Knight Returns Inspiration.
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matcha-b · 3 months
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nevermoor fanart ✨✨
[ID: digital art of morrigan crow from nevermoor in a black dress with white sleeves. the background is solid purple with orange outlines of an umbrella, a bird and some sparkles. End ID]
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soulmushh · 2 months
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OK so I've been in love with this one Batfam fic and I wanted to visualise the fox masks that Tim and Damian have, so I made fanart :]
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The fic in question is:
And if I'm not mistaken then their tumbler is @luxaofhesperides
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cinnamonsikwate · 3 months
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"why couldn't shuro have just been honest about what he felt with laios and falin it's not that hard" are you. are you White
#dungeon meshi#shuro#toshiro nakamoto#look you can hate him for other things but this is very clearly a case of cultures (& personalities influenced by these cultures) clashing#shuro is japanese/east asian-coded and laios is european white boy#i am not japanese but i also come from a collectivistic society#pakikisama is a filipino value both prized and abhorred#it relies heavily on being able to read social cues and prior knowledge of societal norms#shuro being from a different country/culture is important to his character#his repressed nature is meant to contrast with laios' open one like that's the point#they both had similar upbringings but different coping mechanisms#shuro explicitly admits that he's jealous of laios being able to live life sincerely#anyway the point is they were operating on different expectations entirely and neither had healthy enough communication skills#to hash things out before they got too bad#re his attraction to falin i personally believe he unfortunately mpdg-ed her#she represented something new & different. a fresh drink of water for his parched repressed self#alas not meant to be#i'll be honest the way ryoko kui handles both fantasy & regular racism in dm is more miss than hit for me#i don't doubt that a lot of the shuro hate is based off of marcille's pov of him#marcille famously racist 😭#characters' racist views don't often get (too) challenged#practically everyone is casually racist at some point#anyway. again if you're gonna hate shuro at least hate him for being complicit in human trafficking & slavery#he couldn't help falling for the wrong woman goddamn 😭#calemonsito notes#edit: upon further reflection i take back what i said about toshiro mpdg-ing falin!#i'm sorry toshiro 😭
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trixdraws · 1 year
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My second attempt at drawing f!UB
Also sharing some versions that are less of an eye cancer since my gf asked for wallpaper versions!
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akiacia · 4 months
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a spot of mountaineering before the new year 🏔️
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laurents-laces · 5 months
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As much as I love Laurent's secret sweet side, I also love that Laurent is stubborn and prickly and awkward and Damen loves him anyway. Loves him for all the things that make him difficult.
The whole section where Damen realizes just how much his views on everything have changed in the last few months is so good. And I love how much that change is embodied in Laurent, that the more he grows to accept and adore all the things about Laurent that he hated before, the more he grows as a person.
I also like that even though Laurent doesn't know it at first, from the start Damen already has a personality that Laurent loves and respects, because of his resemblance to Auguste. So rather than learning to accept a different viewpoint, for him, falling for Damen is a return to who he was before he had to make himself into someone cold and closed off
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bubblergoespop · 2 months
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audio rp is cringe yeah yeah blah blah all that stuff
the main reason it’s perceived as cringe is not only because of the poor quality of a lot of them, but also because no one is willing to take them seriously.
literally every piece of fictional, entertainment media created is just people pretending. the magic happens by convincing the audience that what’s happening in a film or a book is real. or (a better way of wording it would be) by evoking strong emotions, so that even though the media is fake, those emotions are real. and they compel the audience to immerse themselves further in this fake universe. if the audience allows it, that is.
if you were to watch a film and completely disregard the intent behind all of the scripting, acting etc and just view it as people playing pretend, then it’s very easy to see it as cringe. that’s why so many people say they couldn’t be an actor. by taking media seriously, it heightens the immersion and overall experience. with poor quality literature and films, it’s very hard to take them seriously, even if the concept is great. i think that can be applied to audio role plays.
if people would genuinely sit back and immerse themselves in the universes that these creators make, i think they’d find them really enjoyable and these audios wouldn’t be looked down upon as much as they currently are. sure, its hard to look past the poor quality of some of them, but this is such a niche branch of media with so little general acceptance, i think it’s fair to allow people’s audios to not have the same level of quality as media created by megalithic corporations. but no, they’re made fun of to the point where people create reaction videos to them, laughing at every word and refusing to accept that this is just another way of expressing a story (a more immersive way than others if you ask me).
also, some audio role plays are just cringe. that’s not gonna change. i can’t stand 90% of them bc the voice acting is so bad and unserious, and they’re practically just fan service for horny, lonely people 😭 this whole ramble is mostly about those few gems that are the channels ive managed to find amongst all the neko yandere mommy daddy mafia boss deep voice shit. there’s bad films and books out there that are cringey and fan-servicey, but one bad version of one of those doesn’t impact the public’s view of the rest. why does it only apply to this medium?
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vofart · 2 months
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@sensitiveheartless
I will never forgive you for creating such a masterpiece. Honestly one of the best reads ever out of all the books and drafts and everything just absolutely mind-blowing fucking amazing.
This is a seen from Senharts fantastic Dazai and the Moving Detective Agency on ao3 and there is so many other seens I want to do but this was the first that I sketched out. Its funnier in context so you should go read their fic. (its howls moving castle au but you don't have to know about it to enjoy the fic)
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