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topgunfluffmeme · 1 year

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A night of unfortunate events

submitted by @topgunruinedme It started off as an early Saturday, they both had the day off surprisingly. Maverick was settled, laying on top of Ice on the couch, snuggling up to Ice’s chest and entwining their legs, trying to mould into his tired boyfriend.

Ice chuckled lowly as Maverick rubbed his face against him again. “Is there something you want Maverick?”, Ice asked in amusement as the smaller man pressed against him again; grinding his hips down on Ice’s thigh, Mav gave him a pouting look.

Ice smiled and ran his hand through his boyfriend’s messy hair and mussed, “it’s right there darling, if you want something you’re going to have to work for it”.

Maverick whined it was high-pitched and filled with annoyance and desire as he shifted his hips again, his appendage stiffening against Ice’s leg.

It never stopped to amaze Ice how quickly Mav could get hard. Maverick pressed his face into Ice’s chest trying to quiet the whines and groans as the movement of his hips grew more prominent.

“Good boy. Keep going” Ice mumbled against Maverick’s neck as he laid a soft kiss there, Maverick whimpered and his hips stuttered, “Keep going” Ice urged, “take it all”.

Maverick let out a half sob of relief as his orgasm hit him, his body tensing.

Ice calmly ran his hand through the other man’s hair helping ground him as he came down from his high. Rubbing the smaller mans back as he relaxed against him, letting out a satisfied sign.

His messy hair was sweaty and plastered to his forehead. Ice lip twitched as the man rested his chin on his chest and looked up at him through his eyelashes.

“Can you hand me the remote darling?” Ice asked softly, his eyes narrowing as the body above him stiffened. Maverick turned and looked up at him sheepishly, oh god. What now?

“I can’t find the remote...” Maverick said quietly, Ice ground his teeth “I’m actually going to kill you”.

Maverick pouted at the kitchen wall; Ice had thrown him out of their bedroom after his attempt at a distraction on the couch. Honestly, the man would have done the same thing, everyone knew how much Ice liked order and admitting to having lost something was suicide.

Maverick looked around the kitchen in frustration, this was a lose-lose scenario. No one could ever win against Ice. His eyes travelled to the cookbook left out on the bench and to the knife beside it and an idea planted itself inside his head.

No one could win, but perhaps he could soften the blow.

He grinned as he bounced across the kitchen to the book opening it to a random page.

“Lunch meals” Maverick mussed as he flipped through the book frowning, Tomato, and plum salad with tarragon. What the heck was tarragon?

Tomato and Olive penne? Egg, bacon and tomato tart? What was with all the tomatoes? Was he in the tomato section?

Maverick flipped through the book before deciding on a semi-easy meal, tray-baked tomatoes with chorizo and ricotta. Whatever that was.

Honestly cooking couldn’t be that hard, Ice did it all the time. He scanned the recipe before opening the fridge and retrieving the needed items, tomatoes, ricotta, and chorizo. Why did they have ricotta?

He winced slightly as he opened the cupboard with trays and they clattered against each other as he attempted to quietly retrieve one, but he didn’t hear any movement in their bedroom. Maybe Ice had gone back to bed, he thought hopefully.

The bedroom door opened, and Ice dropped into the couch of the living room. The house was disturbingly quiet. Maverick less, the hairs on his arms stood up in distress.

Where was Maverick? He truly wasn’t that angery at the man to force him to leave. It had been petty to kick him out of their room, but he hadn’t meant the house. Distress and worry swallowed him up and a ball sat in his throat that he couldn’t get rid of no matter how many times he swallowed.

“Maverick?” he called out uneasily in the quiet house, relief flooded through him as an answer was called back to him, “in the kitchen! Uh don’t come in here!”.

Ice raised an eyebrow in amusement, Maverick in the kitchen as a disaster waiting to happen. Maverick was the clumsiest person he knew, and it somehow doubled when the man was in the kitchen. He let his lip twitch as he spotted a black rectangle hiding underneath the coffee table.

Of cause, the reason for their fight to begin with. He rolled his eyes grabbing it and changed the channel he might as well wait for Maverick to finish whatever project, he had started so he could patch him up. He wondered if he had refilled their med kit from last time.

Maverick frowned as the knife halted halfway through the tomato, he pushed on it harder and gasped in pain as the knife bend on an awkward angle slicing over the fat of his palm. The knife clattered onto the bench as he lifted his bleeding hand to his mouth in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Which obviously didn’t help as he felt the blood drip from his lips down his chin.

“Mav? What was that noise?” he heard Ice call out, his eyes widened in panic, the man in question stepped into the kitchen eyebrows risen high on his head as he took in the bloodied sight of his boyfriend.

“God your bleeding! How the hell did you od that?”

“I was trying to cut the tomatoes!”

Ice huffed and opened the cabinet under the sink pulling out an unfortunately familiar med kit and pulled maverick closer. Ice smiled fondly at the man wrapping his hand, only Maverick could manage this.

Maverick buried his head in his boyfriend’s neck and, he huffed out a sorrowful sign, “I’m sorry” he whined against Ice’s neck. Ice held him tightly resting his chin on Maverick’s head. “no, sweetie, it’s okay…”

Maverick had managed to rush Ice out of the kitchen 20 minutes ago when the man had attempted to get a glance at what he had been cooking, he was set it into the oven not long after.

He pulled out the plates with a satisfied smile when a weird smell entered the kitchen. He frowned looking around, where was it coming from?

“I smell something burning, you’re sure you’re okay in there?” Ice called out from the living room in concern, Maverick eyes widened his eyes zeroing in on the oven where a small string of smoke was coming from.

He grabbed a tea towel and flung the door open coughing as the smoke hit him. His eyes watered as he attempted to lift the hot try that burnt through the tea towels.

The trey clattered loudly on the stovetop as he backed away, “I’m fine! I’m fine!” he called out hoarsely smoke still assaulting his lungs.

The smoke alarms went off and he groaned in despair, running cold water over his still-aching hands.

Ice rushed in frowning at the sign of him running his hands underwater. He signed “I’ll call off the firefighters”, Ice ran a hand through his hair stressed walking outside the house where a familiar emergency service alarm was blearing grew closer.

Maverick hung his head, why couldn’t he do anything right?

Maverick laid down on his side of the bed sulkily his hands still wrapped from the paramedic. Apparently, he had burnt them bad enough that they wouldn’t listen to his protest.

“Do you understand why you are banned from the kitchen now?” Ice asked quietly in the darkness the man’s arm wrapped around Maverick’s small waist pulling his sulking body into Ice’s larger one.

Maverick felt disappointment weigh down his bones but needed “yeah” he admitted softly. “I just, I just wanted to make up, do something nice” he muttered, Ice kissed him on the back of his head. “That’s what takeout menus are for darling”.

“Just be glad you didn’t use the milk” Ice hummed; Maverick blinked in confusion. “Milk?” he asked, “we didn’t have any?”. He could almost feel the irritation growing off the man behind him, “well I put it on the grocery list!” Ice bit and Maverick winced slightly; he had been the one to beg Ice to let him do the shopping. “I didn’t think I needed the list!” Maverick argued weakly, Ice growled, “you clearly did!”.

#fill fanfic #submission #icemav #domestic icemav #smut #cut #blood #kissing #thank you so much for submitting!#this is awesome !! <3 #topgunruinedme #a night of unfortunate events #topgunfluffmeme

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warmfuzzyphoto · 8 months

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Young love! My mother sometime in the 80’s

#submission #omg I love this one so much thank you for submitting!#80s #fave

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trans-axolotl · 7 months

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Image description: [Black text on lined paper. Text reads: Share your story with the Psych Survivor Archive. Hold the psychiatric system accountable for the violence and coercion we've survived. Make space for our anger. Grieve together. Celebrate our resistance. The Psych Survivor Archive is a forum for psych survivors to share about their experiences and be believed. You can share as much or as little as you want. Your story will be anonymously published on the website with writing from other psych survivors. The archive is open to anyone who identifies as a psych survivor, including people who survived inpatient hospitalization, rehab, troubled teen industry, partial hospitalization, outpatient programs, ABA, and any other form of coercion psych treatment. Check out the prompts, participant rights, and content guidelines. Share your story now: www.psychsurvivorarchive.com/submit-your-story]

Hey everyone. I wanted to share this here as well. The Psych Survivor Archive is looking for anyone who wants to share their story and have it anonymously published on the website, in order to create a collection of our experiences navigating the psych system. Your responses will be anonymous and can be as detailed or vague as you want. On the website, there are prompts, but you can feel free to share in whatever format makes sense to you.

This is a more informal way to participate in the Psych Survivor Archive if you are not interested in creating art for the zine, but still want your story to be heard and validated.

For me, it has felt very cathartic to write out my story, on my terms, in the way that I want to be known. I hope that the archive can offer that space to other psych survivors as well, and I can't wait to keep developing this project and offering even more. In the next couple weeks, submissions will open up for the second edition of the zine, so if you're interested in submitting creative art or writing keep an eye out!

love and solidarity always <3

#personal #psych survivor #antipsych #survivingpsych #mad liberation #mad pride #madpunk #neurodivergent #mental illness #psych abolition #antipsychiatry #thank you SO much to everyone who's submitted stories so far. they are now live on the website #for me i process through writing. it means a lot to feel seen #and this is a small thing that i would like. to do with other people as well. idk #i know writing and sharing is really not everyone's thing and that's totally okay. as always there's #no pressure to participate. just an option #hopefully will be publishing some more zines soon about basic antipsych topics which would be lovely

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animecatoftheday · 26 days

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Today’s anime cat of the day is:

Yuki Nekoyashiki / Nyammy from Wonderful Precure!

#yuki #yuki nekoyashiki #nyammy #cure nyammy #wonderful precure #wanderful precure #wonderful pretty cure #precure #pretty cure #anime cat #anime cat of the day #multiple people submitted this one #thank you so much!!#submission

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cursedslimecicle · 5 months

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Day 3: Disorientated

#this is a screenshot from JRWI right after he fell out of his chair. he looks comically dazed #slimecicle #charlie slimecicle #cs daily #cs image #also THANK YOU SO MUCH TO THOSE WHO SUBMITTED PHOTOS!! my queue I about 13 days long rn but trust that your submissions are being added :D

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chongoblog · 1 year

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#submission #special delivery tumblr poll for ryan chongo #thank you so much for submitting this poll to me #i will now use it for internet nostalgia

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ofthecaravel · 4 months

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something something the taste of her cherry chapstick

#thank you pinterest for the ref pic that looks almost exactly like them #so much so that i got creeped out #dani hand tattoos hiiii #just submitted my last assignment so get ready for me to be deeply annoying #myart #greta van art #girl van fleet

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tianhai03 · 2 years

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guys wake up new C coloring pic just dropped <333 have some teefs i drew awhile ago that i probably never posted here

#this was a banger drawing and C made it so much cooler with the paint splatter ty for the addition #also it makes me happy to hear you like how i draw nero bc. i dont know how to draw him actually ahsdghkajd hes very hard to draw #anyway. sparda chompers supremacy. these boys have sharp teeth and they WILL bite someone with them #devil may cry #dante(dmc)#vergil(dmc)#nero(dmc)#fan's colorings #everything from here on out is directed at C bc i have no other ways to talk to them so you guys can stop reading here <3 #hey C! i actually didnt see what your first submission was bc i didnt even receive it lmao #but i just want to say that you dont have to worry about anything; what i said the other day wasnt directed at you at all #i do enjoy the little stories you have whenever your submit things; they seem to be pretty personal stories and i appreciate that you trust #me enough to tell me about them.#if you'd feel better not sharing any more that's fine! i'm never going to mention anything in them anywhere regardless #i'll just keep posting your colorings as usual for everyone to see and appreciate :)#hope you have a great day C! and thanks again for always coloring my stuff!#allyart

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ao3screenshotss · 7 months

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#submission #authors be like this is so sad everyone else YOU WROTE IT #(it's the best and the saddest i love it so much)#thank you for submitting!!

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incorrectpersonathree · 23 days

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I don't know the original source of the prompt sorry but I saw it with other characters and it made me think of the SEES gang

Makoto: We're kind of missing something guys.

Aigis: Cohesion?

Akihiko: Teamwork?

Mitsuru: A general sense of what we're doing?

Yukari: No, we lost Junpei somehow.

So real��

#feel free to submit too!#it helps keep the blog running smoothly:)#submission #thank you for submitting !!#and also thank you so much for your continued support #I’ve noticed you;)#I actually had something similar in my drafts somewhere I think haha #incorrect persona 3 #persona 3 #p3 #persona 3 reload #makoto yuki #minato arisato #aigis #akihiko sanada #mitsuru kirijo #yukari takeba #junpei iori

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ratinayellowbandana · 8 months

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Prompt: “I feel terrible.” And/or “I want you to kiss me right now.”

I love your fics 🥹 just yesterday I was thinking of your name while perusing ao3 and was wishing for another Imodna fic of yours

hi!! thank you so much for your kind words. it always shocks me when people, like, want to read my writing? so it really means a lot. i'm sorry this took me a little longer. i ended up combining your first one with another prompt and part of my wip so when i eventually publish a fic with an extremely similar scene from imogen's perspective.. dw about it.

anyway, here's some post-resurrection hurt/comfort. we're gonna all pretend they stayed in the castle for a couple days and sorted their shit out.

cw for feelings of helplessness and self-loathing

length: ~1.7k

some prompt lists if you're so inclined || my ao3

~~~

It’s been three days since they got her back.

Three days since she woke on the worn wooden floors of Pike’s home to a small crowd of friends and strangers.

Three days since she set foot in Whitestone again, a place she never hoped to return.

And three days since everyone began treating Laudna as if she's going to shatter.

The worst part is she feels as if she might.

The world is too vibrant. Loud. The birds chirping outside the too-large castle window grate on her ears. The silky sheets on the too-soft four-poster bed cling to her in all the wrong ways. Her skin crawls and her bones grind and she can feel her teeth.

The gnome who revived her said this is normal. She’d been dead, after all. The body would need time to recalibrate. Time they do not have if they want to have any hope of intervening on the solstice.

Imogen dotes the best way she knows how. With soup and kind words and glares that warn the others to keep back if they don’t want a zap to the forehead. She offers furs from the trunk at the foot of the bed and cool cloths that do little to ease the ache of Laudna’s fragile joints. She brings pillows and keeps watch in the window seat as Laudna sleeps.

It’s sickeningly sweet and thoughtful and lovely, and Laudna hates it just a little bit because Imogen has spent far too much time fretting over Laudna as of late when she should be anywhere but a stuffy old castle spooning broth to a dead lady whose hands won’t stop shaking.

Laudna is fine.

She’s fine.

She is.

Delilah is gone, they assure her. Imogen herself sent a bolt of lightning through the bitch’s strange conjured tree trunk in the twisting nether realm that left the smell of iron and marrow lingering in Laudna’s nose. Her limbs still sting with phantom wounds where she had thrashed against Delilah’s cage.

Helpless. Weak.

The others were there, too. At least, for much of the fight and everything that preceded. They had seen Laudna’s memories, as Fresh Cut Grass informed her. Learned the name she had taken care to hide all these years. Buried deep enough, even Imogen, brilliant as she is, would have to dig to uncover it. Delilah, it seemed, only cared for secrets when they were hers to keep.

When her friends visit her chambers, their vivacity is dulled. They are tense, anxious, and trying and failing to hide the restlessness that they are all feeling.

Orym regards her with new wariness, searching for lies and cracks, though he is kind as ever. It’s understandable, Laudna reasons. In this place, where the Briarwood reign harmed innumerable lives, she is a liability. A threat to be guarded against.

Fearne is delicate with her hugs, moves cautiously through Laudna’s space. She hasn’t even stolen any of the silver soup spoons or fine teacups, which might be most concerning of all.

Ashton hovers in the doorway. They return her awkward waves with a nod and flick of their wrist.

Chetney and Fresh Cut Grass seem the most unbothered. Chetney in a plush bathrobe that appears to have been hastily cropped to suit his stature, and F.C.G. chattering on about the importance of rest to the healing process.

And Laudna hates them just a little bit because she cares for them all so deeply, but mostly, she just hates herself. Hates Delilah. Hates Otohan Thull.

They’re losing time and they’ve already lost so much. Imogen has already lost so much. Her mother’s trail is growing colder by the day, and there is nothing Laudna can do but lay in this godsforsaken luxurious bed and wait until her body recovers.

It’s all she can do not to break into a thousand pieces that she would scatter to the nooks and crannies so she wouldn’t have to see the pitying looks on her friends’ faces when Imogen has to help her up.

She turns on her side and buries her face in an obnoxiously soft down pillow to muffle the sob that wells within her and wracks her body.

She does a piss-poor job of that, too.

“Laudna?” Imogen calls sleepily, roused from a sun-dappled doze. Then, alert, “Hey, hey–”

She’s standing, Laudna can hear, and now she’s gone and disturbed Imogen. Bare feet pad across the cool stone floor, and the far side of the bed dips, ever considerate. She will not come closer, Laudna knows, unless given explicit consent because Imogen is wonderful and caring and lovely.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?”

Laudna shudders. “I feel terrible.”

“Oh,” Imogen says, and Laudna can feel the flash of guilt and concern that radiates off of her. “Can I bring you anything? Is it your head?” She shifts her weight. “Do you need water? I can go get a pitcher. Or food, maybe?”

“Stop. Please, stop,” Laudna croaks. Imogen flinches, and gods, Laudna could be sick.

Imogen retreats. “Sorry, I’ll just– sorry,” she murmurs, sounding so small.

Laudna lifts her head and darts a trembling hand to catch her wrist. “No!” she says. Her body betrays her, the word coming out as more of a roar than she ever could have meant. “No,” she repeats, softer, “stay. Please,” because if she frightens Imogen off, she fears what will crawl into the hole left behind.

Imogen hesitates, glances down at the ink-tipped fingers clasped around her arm, and sits again. She doesn’t speak, leaving the path clear for Laudna to lead the way, and oh, Laudna could melt.

Laudna sighs shakily, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…it’s not you.”

Not Imogen. Never Imogen.

The silence hangs heavy between them until Laudna can bring herself to speak again.

“This is my fault, I’m afraid,” she states flatly, refusing to meet Imogen’s gaze. Refusing to see whatever reaction she may find there. Anguish. Frustration. Irritation.

“What?”

Confusion.

Laudna looks up, gestures vaguely to their surroundings. “This. All of us being… trapped here.”

“Laud, what’re you talkin’ about?”

Imogen’s hand comes to stroke the back of Laudna’s knuckles where they wrap around her other wrist. Her fingers are calloused and work-worn, the rough patches of them catching on the imperfect parts of Laudna.

“You should be off tracking down your mother or finding out what you can about the moon, and instead,” Laudna’s voice catches in her throat, “you’re here.”

Imogen shakes her head, exhales. “Where I should be is for me to decide.” She says it gently. It is not meant to be a reprimand. It still feels like one. “And where I should be,” she continues, “is wherever you are.”

Laudna’s eyes flit anywhere but Imogen’s face.

“If you want me there, of course.”

Laudna’s response is instant. “Always.”

She finally meets Imogen’s eyes and is met with a somewhat furrowed brow. She wants to ask something, Laudna can tell. Imogen’s head is tilted curiously, her lips slightly parted. Her jaw works subtly, muscles tensing.

“It’s not your fault,” she settles on at last. “None of it, okay?”

Laudna opens her mouth to respond.

Imogen is steely calm. “You were gone, Laudna. And I couldn’t reach you, and…and you’re here now. You’re back, and that’s all that matters.”

Laudna shrinks into the pillows, takes her hand back beneath the sheet, fist clenching and unclenching. “I feel like such a nuisance,” she confesses quietly. “I should have tried harder to break her hold on me. I should have–”

“No. Gods,” Imogen snaps, lacking any real bite. She inhales. “Laudna, you…you were dead. And I hate sayin’ it; I hate thinkin’ about it. You couldn’t’ve done anythin’ more than what you did.” She softens, throat tightening with emotion. “You did so much. And I’m so proud of you. And… I’m so grateful you chose to come back.”

“It wasn’t much of a choice,” Laudna whispers, “I couldn’t very well leave you, darling.”

“You could’ve.” Imogen bites her lip, ducks her head, fiddles with the hem of her vest. “We, um, I know F.C.G. told you, but we… saw some of your memories. And, and I didn’t really wanna bring it up? So I’m real sorry, but we only saw a couple moments, and we don’t have to talk about it, but,” she looks back to Laudna, “you’re so brave. I don’t think you get told that enough. You’re so strong, Laud, and so good, and I missed you. So much.” She takes a sharp breath.

It bursts out as though holding it in any longer might suffocate her, and Laudna’s hands cease their twitching. She hesitates. Imogen’s affection has split her open, and it’s odd, she thinks, to feel so vulnerable and so safe. That those two sensations can coexist as a tingling in her chest that extends into her tendons and ligaments to warm her all over. She can sense the discolored blush rising in her cheeks.

She does not feel brave. Strength has always been foreign and abstract. That Imogen can see her that way is… incongruous. Absurd, even.

“You’re very kind.”

Imogen looks as if she might protest but seems to think better of it. She sighs, a slight, sad smile crossing her lips. She moves to stand again, to cross the room back to her seat, and suddenly, the thought of Imogen being so far away is unbearable.

“Stay, please?” Laudna shuffles, lifting a corner of the quilt. “This bed is plenty big enough for two, and I dread to think of the state of your neck curled up in the window.”

“You’re sure?” Imogen asks, faint hope coloring her words.

“Come here.”

The bed dips again as Imogen clambers in, pressing herself against Laudna, who lets out an oomph as Imogen wraps around her and intertwines their fingers.

“Sorry!” Imogen says with a relieved exhale, “Sorry, I just–I know I said it before, but… I really missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Laudna assures gently, taking in the oaty smell of Imogen. The smell of home. “Rest well, darling.”

Imogen squeezes their hands in response and burrows closer.

Laudna relaxes into the embrace.

#as always these bad boys are pretty unedited and written fast so apologies for pacing spelling weird formatting etc #I hope this works!#this actually really helped me figure out some stuff for my longer wips so much appreciated #thank you for submitting :)#critical role fanfiction #imodna fic #imodna fanfiction #my fic #imodna #imogen temult #laudna #cr3 #critical role #prompt fill #ask #anon

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