I can't believe staff deleted all of their initial @/postplus blog posts and just pretended that the survey and the encouragement-of-illegal-fanfic-monetization backlash never happened. As if they don't know how their own site works?? As if those now-deleted posts aren't still floating around in 100,000 different reblog chains and even more mocking screenshots?? As if we, the gremlin userbase of this hellsite would ever forget how they initially approached the whole mess???
And yeah, the posts are back now, but the damage is done. We all saw that.
Sleeping At Last
For a man of slight stature, he takes up so much space in her bed. And his feet are like blocks of ice. He will rub them against her leg just to make her shriek and squirm away, because even as she pouts at him, inwardly, she's smiling, and she can't hold it back for long. And these antics inevitably lead to far more intimate pursuits.
She's been sleeping with him for a fortnight. She has never felt so loved. And not just that, but respected and revered. They have so much in common. Had fate not brought them here, they would never have realized. In the end, all they've ever wanted is home. She thinks, or hopes at least, that they have found it in each other.
She wants to please him; not to survive, as she had done with her husband, but because she has opened for him a world of possibilities he probably never considered with his repressed Northern upbringing. Whatever she's suggested, he's been game. And he is insatiable.
But she thinks her favorite moments are these, after they've coupled, their heartbeats slowing, their bodies naked and perspiring, their limbs entwined. He doesn't talk after fucking. He just holds her. Sometimes they fall asleep. Sometimes, it's just a quick respite, then they have each other again. He's good at it. Her other lovers were more experienced, but he actually cares about her pleasure. She could do little else for the rest of her life, but this, lying in his arms, trying to imagine where they are on the map, and what would happen if the ship changed course, and carried them off to the ends of the world. She honestly wouldn't mind.
He's never been an easy sleeper, but he is with her. The mattress is too soft. The blankets are too hot. Sometimes she kicks him in her sleep. Sometimes she talks while she dreams. He'll take it all.
He never thought he'd share a bed with anyone. He's slept beside a woman before, on hard, wet ground under furs, shivering and praying to his gods that he wouldn't freeze to death. Even then, he didn't forget what his purpose was, nor his place in the world.
With her, it's easy to forget. Maybe that's dangerous. But he doesn't care. He loves her. It's not infatuation or lust. It's beyond anything he ever imagined. And the more unbelievable thing is that she loves him back. She hasn't said so in words, but her body says plenty.
Her bed is his fortress of sheets and blankets and cushions. He is at peace there, because the troubles of the outside world can't reach him. There is no one else, only them.
He loves to lay with her. He usually wakes before she does. She's so lovely in her sleep, her mussed hair fanned over pillows and his chest, her long lashes kissing her cheeks, her pliant body curled into his. It makes him feel protective, but also safe himself. And it makes him wish they could stay that way forever, that this ship will sail the sea for the rest of their days, and if the sea reaches an end, then perhaps they could sail amongst the stars, and someone else can save the world for once.
He never wants to leave.
Me, recovering my account after it was wrongly terminated:
@staff @ssardothien @bookologist @bellamyblakru @kingandfireheart @charityreadsabookanddrinkswine @chaotic-trav @witching-by-the-willow @its-hyperfixation
Do you ever just CRAVE a toxic and hot reader x Silco fic or is that just me? Maybe it’s cause my mind is messy, but I need something to fix the bad things that have happened to me. A good ol’ fic that’ll make me forget about the people who did these things.
I have no idea why, but Silco is the character I cling to when I’m going through my stuff or I’m reliving memories over and over. He just seems to fill the void. It makes me hurt, but it also makes me feel… alive.
Constable Carter (Sid x Sullivan drabble)
Sullivan surveyed the meadow nervously. Sid’s impersonation of a police officer would probably crack this case, but Sullivan hated it. The ruse could go wrong so quickly...
If only Sid would put on his borrowed uniform more quickly. He’d made Sullivan wait outside the caravan, insisting on a big reveal. Finally, he emerged and turned slowly around. “...How’s it look? Alright?”
‘All right’ was a vast understatement. “You do look like a policeman."
“Well, you know what they say. You are what you eat.”
God damn it. “...Get in the car before I take that uniform back off you, Constable.”
ive been here for years but man tumblr sure is something. you’ll see the most beautiful works of art on your dash and then read an emotionally charged essay about the joys of friendship and then see the mournful stare of klaud “live slug reaction” star wars next for 7 posts straight in the same 5 minutes you’ve been scrolling
when you send people anons are you anonymous anonymous knife
why u gotta confuzzle me like dat bro
Shut up I'm doing hot girl stuff
Hot girl stuff : *deleting a sideblog then gaslighting my 2 followers and the rat eating bread locked in the basment with them into thinking it never existed*
I’ve been following you and your boyfriend for a couple months now and you’re too ugly to be dating someone like that… 😂can’t wait to see him tonight after the show in Connecticut 😉
is this supposed to offend me, this is creepy my guy