#but man. i can push through anything until i drop but when i start wishing that i’ll drop so i have an excuse for a break….. not good

[callixton]

oh i am on the Brink of a mental breakdown. and like a real one. i am going to feel so so fucking terrible and guilty if i don’t go to the first week of mac rehearsal bc i need to recover but i am also getting the sense that i Need to recover. i have never been this burnt out or genuinely terrified of starting a new semester in my life.

#we go back to campus a week early for mac. to be clear #and god they’ll be long days and they’ll be physically emotionally and mentally draining and i genuinely dont know if i can take that #but i am also going to be missing SO much time. and i won’t be there to support the people who i need to #i have also. been thinking a lot about how i’m scared that i think so much abt death bc i’m gonna be one of those people #who seem even more than everyone else like they have a finite time and then they die young #and then my mom compared me to jonathan larson tonight #so maybe that’s some sort of sign that i need to slow the fuck down #i am crying rn. for myself. which happens about three times a year #and yeah one is usually during winter break so we’re on schedule #i don’t know. idk!! i don’t know what to do here #and i still have to do my fucking scene prep for tomorrow #bc i was talking my mom about it and i really needed support which she was giving and then she has to leave for five seconds #and when she came back the entire conversation was just about her own problems again which we’ve already talked about every fucking night bc #- you can’t leave conversations with her and i hate when she fucking drunks i hate it i hate it #i am Not Well. i’ve sort of been avoiding admitting to myself just how badly #but man. i can push through anything until i drop but when i start wishing that i’ll drop so i have an excuse for a break….. not good #ted talks #the west wing

[fairy-angel222]

Dilf! Toji helping his college gf study.. with his cock

Leaning against his door frame as he pushes it open wider. A smirk on his face as you shyly squeeze in past his frame.

You’re holding tons of books in your hands, peering up at him through your lashes as you hand them over. “So.. where do we start?” It makes his cock strain when you tilt your head with your lip nudged between your teeth. Curious as to how he of all people could actually help you study.

“You’ll see, doll.”

He sits you down on his lap with a silent groan. Flipping through pages in front of you as he watched your eyes barely scan over the page.

You huffed, turning around with your arms over his shoulder and a pout. “Come onnn, this is so boring.”

“Study, now.” His voice held no trace of playfulness, the deep rumble making you sigh as you turned back around. “Fine.”

You were so restless, twisting and turning in his lap making his grip tighten on your hips. The man’s breath hitching as his cock hardens.

“You know what doll? Change of plans.” You find his fat cock buried inside you instead. Your thighs twitching as you held back the urge to move, to grind, anything. You were so full, and he was so deep. You needed it.

“Please can i move?” You whimpered, arousal leaking lewdly out his thigh at the feeling of him sat directly against your spot. “P-plea.. haah— please.”

Toji grinned, his breath against your ear as he chuckled meanly. “How about this? For every question you get right, one point gets added to me absolutely ruining that tight little pussy of yours.”

Another whimper, “A-and if i get it wrong?”

“Minus one point of course. Hmm.. and let’s just say when i do fuck you. You won’t be cumming for a while.”

Question after question. Wrong answer after wrong answer. You were probably in the negatives already.

“T-toji ple-ase,” you hiccuped, small drops of tears threatening to spill at simply your neediness. You were so desperate for him to fuck you. Your pussy aching each time he turned you down.

Toji watched as you frustratedly wiped away your tears, pulling the book to you for you to read. Actually read. He was impressed, all so you could get a little bit of cock.

You spend at least thirty minutes studying the pages. Confident when Toji started asking questions. And you had every right to be, answering questions correctly after correctly. Your sniffled voice now turned smug making Toji’s eyes widen. That was hot and he fucking loved you.

“Now. Please fuck me,” you breathe.

“As you wish, doll.” He has you flipped over in an instant. Skirt bunched at your hips as he begins fucking into you. Veiny cock dragging against your walls with each starting thrust.

“Ahh— faster.”

Toji swore he could cum right there, speeding up the pace of his hips until he was ramming into you. Your body being rocked roughly against the couch’s fabric as you moaned loudly. Lips parted in thankful cries each time his hips met yours meanly. “So good, so fucking good.” You mewled, stomach tightening as tears welled in your eyes. Good tears this time.

Your back arched, hands hooking around his torso when your body began to tremble. So close to falling apart. “Nngh— Toji, ‘m so close.” You were right there at the edge, letting out a short scream when he reached down to rub at your clit.

“Yeah? Gonna cum f’ me doll? That’s it.. look at that.” He grunted, watching your eyes roll back with the blissful chant of his name. “It’s too bad i said you wouldn’t cum.”

You whined loudly when he slipped out of you, your hips bucking up towards him as your orgasm died down, adjusting to the new found emptiness. “You’re so mean Toji.”

He swiped his finger along your puffy lips. “I know. Now let’s try this again shall we?”

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader smut #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader

[lunajay33]

New World🍂Part.8

Summary: Reader is sick but the group have been on the road thankfully the prison is found but will that help?

Part.7

•Masterlist•

Rick and Daryl were out scouting the area while Maggie and Glenn were watching over you, the deer had helped a bit but it still wasn’t enough food to keep you feeling well, atleast not well enough to get up and help

“Hey love” Maggie said sitting next to you handing you a bottle of water

“Hi Mags”

“Feeling any better?”

“Ya I think I’ll be fine, just hope we find somewhere”

“We will, Daryl’s trying really hard you know he’s really worried about you”

“I hate making him feel like that, I just want a home with him, this isn’t how I imagined how our relationship would be” you said upset at the thought

“What did you imagine?” She asked rubbing your back

“Ever since we were teens I imagined us getting together, having a little cabin like house, he’d come home from the garage he worked at, all happy to be home and hold me until we made supper together, I still love him obviously I just wanted us to be happier” you admitted not knowing Daryl and Rick had just entered the run down house, back from the scouting hearing everything you just said

You looked up seeing Daryl approaching you, he knelt down pulling you into his chest

“Hey baby, anything good?” You asked

“Ya” he said still holding you

“We found a prison, think we can work together and get all the walkers out, we can make it secure” Rick said

It seemed tough but it was the only thing we had just hoping it worked Rick made a plan and we all went to the prison, it wasn’t that far actually, you went up one of the guard towers with Daryl once everyone was in their spots everyone started shooting, you tried your best, you took down a few but the others were in better stamina and got the rest of them as Rick locked the gates This outer field was secure for now, you all climbed down the towers and met in the middle setting up camp for the night

“Tomorrow we’ll push in more, for now we rest and eat” Rick said as everyone laid out their blankets

You and Daryl sat on you blanket, you laid between his legs against his chest with his arms tight around you, he took another blanket and threw it over you both, ever since you got sick from the low iron you got really cold easily and his warmth always helped

“You’re so warm, I love cuddling you” you said resting your head on his chest

“Ya sure yer warm enough?” He asked holding you closer running his hand through your hair

“Ya I’m good……hey you remember that time in middle school wear that boy was picking on me, pulling my hair and everything calling me ugly and you came and beat him up for me?” you asked randomly remembering this fond memory

“Oh ya, that lil ass deserved it cause yer far from ugly peach, everyone knew that” he whispered making you blush

“Stop no they didn’t, if I recall there were some girls that were fond of you through out the years” you said playing with his shirt

“Nah not me” he grunted

“Come on D you were so handsome, your little country accent that showed through when you were mad, the sleeveless shirts, wish they could see you now, so strong and even more handsome, and oh so sexy” you said making him laugh hiding his face in your hair

“I love ya peach”

“I love you too D” You all sat around the fire for the rest of the evening loving the warmth, still cuddling Daryl until Carl came over sitting infront of you munching on his food looking at you like a little puppy, you sat up as Daryl wrapped his arms around your hips, still sitting between his legs

“Hey sweetie, what’s up?” You asked not having had many conversations with him but he was a sweet kid

“Are you feeling better?” He asked holding his plate out for me

“Yes I’m getting a bit better and you keep your food sweetie, gotta be fed to grow and be a strong man” you said making him smile

“I was worried about you, mom says you probably won’t make it” he said and your heart dropped then feeling Daryl’s hands tighten around you

“She said that?” Daryl asked and you could hear the anger

“Ya, she said y/n was holding us back and the walkers would get her but I didn’t think so, you’re a survivor y/n plus I don’t wanna lose anyone else” he said getting a bit sad

“Oh sweetie you’re not gonna lose me I’m gonna be alright, now keep your head up” you said smiling at him, he gave you a hug and went back to Lori as you laid back against Daryl thinking about what Carl said

‘Was I really holding the group back, I was sick and I was trying my best’ you thought to yourself

“She ain’t right ya know, we all understand, never leave ya behind” Daryl said knowing you were worrying about it

“I’m really trying, I’m sorry” you said hating to feel like a burden

“Ain’t gotta be sorry, ya listen to me, I won’t let anyone hurt ya, I won’t leave ya, none of us will, we adore ya peach, now stop worryin that lil head and get ta sleep” he said kissing your lips gently even infront of people which was rare, and soon you were off to sleep

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning to dewy grass and an arm draped over your waist still being curled up in Daryl, the sun was still low in the sky, not yet risen the little birds chirping, everything was peaceful for a moment until the walkers groaning caught your attention ruining everything

You sighed hating that sound, you just wanted them gone you wanted your old world back with Daryl, you wanted suppers together again and occasional sleepovers where you’d get to wear his big comfy shirts or when he’d stay at your place you’d give him facials even though he groan about it, you wanted your life back, but you couldn’t tell Daryl he’s been working so hard and no matter what he said you still felt like a burden to him

Daryl started moving behind you waking up

“Morning Peach”

“Morning” I said putting my hand back to rub his check

“Ya ready for today?!” He asked placing his hand on your lower belly for some reason he’s started to do that but you didn’t mind

“Yes, I’m hoping this place can be something, something for us to build”

“It will, we can make it a home, I’ll do that fer ya”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and some others waited outside the gate as the strongest ones got into the prison and after some time they came back out letting us in, saying it was secure

You were shocked by how big the block was, it was dirty but with help you could all clean it up and make it nice, as nice as you could Everyone claimed a cell but Daryl didn’t want a cell, feeling like a tomb so he decided to take the perch, but you could turn it around so you pull two mattresses from cells placed them on the perch and threw your blankets over them, you laid down as Daryl came back laying back next to you

“Made yerself at home quick” he said laughing

“I’m just happy we found this place”

“Me too baby, but me and the other are gonna find the kitchen so I’ll be back soon” he said kissing my forehead before he was off

Soon Carl was walking up the stairs and sitting in the mattress by me

“I’m bored” he huffed

“Well what can I do?”

“Wanna play truth or dare?” He asked excited

“Sure sweetie”

“Okay truth or dare?”

“Hmmmmm…I’ll say truth”

“Have you always loved Daryl?”

“Well when we met as kids I liked him as a friend but when we got to be teenagers I started to see how much I do love him, only at the farm did we finally share our feelings with each other” you said smiling remembering the little crush you had as a kid

“Really, so like you’re soulmates?”

“I think so, I’d do anything for him”

“I don’t think my parents are soulmates”

“Why do you say that?”

“They don’t talk much and when they do they fight” he said sighing

“Sweetie not everyone is soulmates but that doesn’t mean they don’t love each other in a different way and sometimes it’s better to let eachother go than be sad, but whatever happens nothing is your fault” you said see that made him a bit happier having worked as a teacher you had some kids over the years have problems with parents that you tried to help cheer up the kids

The game kept going back and forth until he got bored again and went to find someone else so you decided to nap, maybe one day you could have a kid of your own and show them true soulmates

—///—///—///—///—///—///—///—

Taglist: @deansapplepie @i-wear-wet-socks313 @ghostboneswrites @writer-ann-artist @thebadbatch2022

Part.9<-

#twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd x reader #twd fluff #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon smut #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon series

[bonkywobble]

Kinktober ‘22 - Day 5

Day 5 - Sex Pollen with Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 1056

Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, love confessions, sexual content (18+ only): male masturbation, unprotected sex, dubious consent (due to sex pollen).

Disclaimer: Please heed the warnings - if this makes you uncomfortable then click away. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION.  I do not give anyone permission to take, repost, copy or translate my stories, regardless of whether or not they are credited. This blog and all works associated with it are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.

A/N: Day 5! Tagging @cryptidcasanova. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Kinktober ‘22 Masterlist

“With all due respect, what the fuck were you thinking Harrington?”

Steve’s tongue feels heavy as he responds, “Kinda was thinking about how telling you was a bad idea.”

Pressing the bag of frozen peas to his forehead you kneel beside him, suppressing your anger to the best of your ability. “You’re lucky that I was nearby and saw you pull that shit. Next time you wanna investigate a possible portal to the Upside Down by yourself, don’t.”

Taking the time to examine your friend in the following silence, you notice despite the budding bruise under the cloth there don’t appear to be any other injuries. It should ease the anxiety swirling in your gut but it doesn’t, because then there’s no explanation for his erratic breathing or flushed face; the way his eyes are screwed shut as if he’s in pain, or the constant shuffling of his legs- Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington is hiding something from you.

“Steve?”

There’s a slight tilt of his head and drifting of glazed eyes, but otherwise, you get no reply.

Your tone is firmer, more insistent. “Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you encounter anything… weird in there?” You continue, weaving your fingers through loose locks of chestnut hair as you push them away, “Anything that we haven’t already seen before?”

Steve sighs at your touch, instinctually pressing himself into it as his hot palm lands on the back of your hand. “No,” he mutters, “just the usually creepy and murderous tentacle vines. Some freaky red flowers were growing on them this time. Maybe Vecna wants to be a florist and grow his own- look, I’m sorry, but are you wearing a new perfume?”

The question throws you for a moment. “Uh, no?”

He smiles at you, your stomach filling with butterflies and confusion, “Seriously? You smell great. Like, really fucking great.”

A pained groan erupts from him as he doubles over in agony, his hands clutching you in desperation. You drop the frozen goods and catch his face, calling out his name in panic.

“It hurts, it’s not enough-”

“You’re freaking me out. I’m gonna call Nancy and the rest of the gang-”

“No!” Steve gasps, fingers digging into your denim jacket. “Don’t leave.”

“I have to get help,” you plead.

There’s a glazed but focused look in his eyes like you are a balm to his wounds - a rare and beautiful salvation. He pulls you closer until your foreheads are touching, “This is helping me. Touching you like this is making it bearable. Just- don’t go, okay baby?”

Your heart gives a sad little flip, wishing he’d been in any other state of mind. “Okay.”

Nostrils flaring he looks you up and down before removing his shirt, mud from it leaving dark stains on the bathroom tiles. Immediately you avert your eyes, wanting to offer the former king of Hawkins High some degree of dignity or modesty. Steve isn’t himself right now, you reason.

That reasoning flies out the window when his fingers start to fumble with his belt buckle.

“Jesus Steve!”

The young man licks his lips. “You can either help or not. S’too damn hot.”

When his belt and fly are finally undone you’re surprised that he keeps his pants on. Your eyes about bulge out of your head when he thrusts a hand in, however, and throws his head against the wall in relief, seemingly getting a reprieve from whatever’s afflicting him. Stroking himself furiously, the whimpers bubble in his throat when he realises you’re not touching him anymore.

“I change my mind,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Shit, stop staring and give me a hand.”

The offer tempts you briefly. A friendship of over two years flashes before you, panic mutating into dread as you imagine the end of it. What if this ruins everything? If this is how you lose him, is your crush even worth it?

“I can’t. I can’t do this.”

It’s impressive how Steve manages to gain just enough control to stall his movements, sweat beading on his forehead. Despite the sight you keep going, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, “You don’t know what you’re asking me to do, Steve. So please,” you beg, “don’t ask me-”

Warm, lazy, sweet. It’s how you can describe your first kiss with Steve Harrington as he reaches up and presses his lips to yours, cutting you off. He kisses you like a man starved but full of hope. Like his declaration is long overdue, Steve moves against you in a way that has your toes curling in your sneakers. 

The tears escape and so does the desire you’ve buried for so long. You don’t hesitate to return his affections, your fingers returning once more to bury themselves in his hair while you gently pry his desperate mouth apart with your tongue. And he has and always will do, Steve lets you in.

Begrudgingly, you eventually pull away, the smile you wear causing your cheeks to ache. Steve’s disposition matches yours, his gaze glossy and euphoric. “I know it’s not super appropriate, but I was wanting to ask the girl I love if it’s okay that she rides me into the sunset before I take her out on our first date?”

You snort, never happier that Steve Harrington is so terrible with women.

“You sure, Harrington?”

“Damn sure, babe.”

Smiling, you stand up and it takes less than a minute for you to strip to nothing, hoping to stave off more of his sudden cramps the faster you go. The sight of ‘Pretty Boy’ Harrington looking up at you with wide eyes, mouth parted hungrily as a thumb rolls over the tip of his cock - it definitely distracts you a little.

And now you understand that everything about Steve is pretty.

Gazes locked on each other, you lower yourself onto his angry length, nails tracing the thick veins as you line him up and pump once, twice. Cursed moans leave you both as his cock pushes past your wet folds, feelings of blissful heat roaring to life in your abdomen.

“Gotta be honest, dingus,” you purr, clenching your hips as your pussy pulsates, “I’d love for you to fuck me before we go to the movies.”

Steve’s hips jerk in response. “Movies, huh?” He breathlessly asks, “I can do that, baby.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington smut #kinktober 22 #kintober 2022 #bonkywobble writes

[optimist-pine]

Dermatillomania (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of the fall of the Greene Farm in a way your therapist would not approve of.

Warnings: Typical TWD content! Dermatillomania (BFRB's, self-inflicted injury), mentions of death, etc.

Word Count: 719

Era: Follows directly after the season 2 finale

A/n: Just a personal vent... Dunno if anyone else relates.

It hadn't been easy to stop necessarily, but anything other than going cold turkey hadn't really been an option. When you absentmindedly find yourself starting to pick, a quick reminder that it could get you killed is all it takes to shut it down. Most of the time anyways... Tonight though? Oh, tonight you've fallen into old habits so fast and hard that you're stuck there in that state, in the worst session you've had since it all began.

You're tucked away in your own little corner of the ruins and firelight, shadowed enough that no one's really paying attention to what you're up to. At some point, your arms have come out of the sleeves of your coat and it's shrugged loosely around you, leaving skin exposed to the chilly air. You don't notice.

It's all catching up now, all replaying in your mind like the final straw has been plucked. That horrible night at the quarry, the panic when what had been a safe place was so quickly turned into a graveyard. Leaving Jim to die. The terror at the CDC of almost being murdered as a mercy. Leaving Jacqui to die. Sophia... Dale... The farm could've been a safe place, you'd truly believed it until they were somehow just - everywhere. Patricia, Jimmy, Shane... Leaving Andrea to die...

You can feel how it's all too much for your mind to handle, how it's trying to relieve the pressure in this way. It's no good, but your body doesn't know better and you don't know how to make it stop. You can't make any of it stop. Your fingernails desperately search raw skin for any bump, or blemish, or imperfection. They're everywhere. Maybe you'd feel ashamed if bigger and uglier emotions weren't cramming it out of the way.

The cold air cools drops of hot blood on your skin, you can feel it, and yet you feel separate from it simultaneously. Like the same way you breathe without thinking about the breathing part. The fire crackles low and leaves rustle out in the trees as the others hunker down. Nobody's really sleeping though. Not tonight.

Daryl's keeping watch on the perimeter when his eyes settle on you. Your fingers pause in their assault; you can't continue with an audience. Please just look away so I can keep going, some darkness in your mind pleads. But no, you scramble to pull the coat over yourself to conceal the evidence.

"What's this?" He asks, his voice low enough that the others won't really notice.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You can't meet his eyes, shame has finally pushed its way to the forefront now.

You don't try to stop him as he slides the coat off your shoulder, revealing your handiwork. Even in the darkness, you're sure the ugly redness has to be so obvious. You're not only weak, you're weak and stupid.

He pulls your backpack over and digs through it. "Your first aid kit in here?"

You nod once, but that only initiates the tears. What feeling are they from? Anger? Guilt? Fear? This was always the worst part, hating what you've done and wishing for nothing more than to go back and undo it. After everything that had happened... pathetic.

Daryl finds the antibacterial spray and gets to work. His care and surprising tenderness only make you feel that much worse. You were so incapable of handling yourself that you've got a full-grown man treating you like... like the broken thing that you are.

After that he takes a couple of bandages and wraps them around your upper arms, fingers steady and slow. "Leave 'em alone an' let 'em heal. You're tougher than that." He packs up the supplies, helps you fit your arms back into the sleeves, then waits. You're not sure what he expects from you, but then he mimes a zippering motion. You comply and close up your coat. With a single nod, he turns and returns to his watch of the dark surrounding forest.

Maybe you're just thoroughly messed up, but you trade the repeating images in your mind for his words. The past. You have to leave it alone. You have to let it heal. You're here, now, in the present. Alive. You would be tough enough to stay that way. You would.

#twd #the walking dead #twd season 2 #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #optimist pine

[xerith-42]

Stop blaming characters for bad writers

Seriously, stop fucking doing this. While this is a post that could certainly be applicable to MANY fandoms, I'm mainly directing this whole rant at my target audience which is mentally ill minecraft obsessed freaks.

If a character is written badly, gets badly fumbled by the creator, or has the ball dropped in regards to their arc in some way, a lot of people will blame the character, as if they're a real conscious person making these decisions. When they aren't. They're a block man literally being controlled by two people who just aren't very good writers and one or both of them are incredibly sexist, kind of racist, ableist, and just bad writers in general.

Yeah, Laurance does some pretty shitty things through out Season 2 of MCD, actively crossing lines he wouldn't have previously crossed. We as fans can cope by saying something something calling, or just saying Laurance is a bad abusive person, but the reality is that the writers wanted to force the series to fit a specific vision and as a result were willing to do anything to get the series to that point. In order to make Aaron the most favorable suitor for Aphmau, her previous suitors need to be out of the picture, or clearly inferior options.

Garroth suffered the out of the picture, being mostly absent outside of a few cutscenes here and there until episode 81 of season 2, but episode 81 is the culmination of the writers goals to make Aarmau happen. By the time Garroth has returned to the series, the damage has already been done. He's not getting the life he wants. And Laurance is written out of the picture as well, but only after being shown to be inferior because Jesson were pushing an agenda.

Laurance didn't deteriorate as a person due to neglect of his physical and mental well being after a severely traumatic experience. He deteriorated as a character because the writers stopped giving as much of a shit about him and instead were using the series as self indulgent fanfiction of alternate versions of themselves. That's not Laurance's fault.

And this applies to any character who was completely fumbled in MyStreet due to this similar focus on wish fulfillment from the writers. Jess has stated that the relationship between Aphmau and Aaron in Phoenix Drop High is reflective of her relationship with Jason, we all know this. This means that any characters who come off as total fucking creeps in that series (namely Gene), are not actually acting on the whims of their own autonomy or desires as characters. They are acting in service of telling a predetermined story that they are retroactively being added into for author fulfillment.

In this regard I fully support fandom cope and say that you should rewrite your little guys to your hearts content. But if you're going to criticize these characters for their actions, don't criticize them. They didn't do anything wrong. All characters are just puppets in service of the story or themes a writer is trying to push. If a character acts in an objectively terrible way, especially a way that isn't in line with their previous characterizations, that is a failing of the writers, not the character.

And I feel like largely a lot of us can and frequently do this. We're actively criticizing Jesson for being terrible low-key bigoted writers all the god damn time, it's like half of the content here. But when we get into character discourse I feel like some people cling onto bad actions of the canon too closely and I've seen more than a few posts presume some pretty terrible interpretations of characters based on these actions. Obviously Laurance is a character I and a lot of others are fixated on so a lot of discourse revolves around him, and it was seeing some... interesting takes on him that prompted me to start writing this post.

But this happens to everyone. Quite personally based on the character I was shown in MyStreet, it feels really weird that Garroth would make an insensitive comment about his brother's weight. Yeah siblings poke fun at each other and often cross lines, but if that was something Zane was seriously insecure about (which it seems like he might be) then it does make Garroth come off as a really insensitive brother, which just doesn't gel with how hard he tries to bond with Zane despite their tense relationship. And I don't think Garroth should be criticized for making those comments.

Whoever wrote those lines (Jess and/or Jason) should be criticized for writing a scene where a character is mocked by their older sibling over a physical insecurity even if said sibling would not normally do that. It's not Travis' fault that Jesson never decided to give him more of a character beyond "funny pervy guy" that's not funny in every anime they've watched until Season 5 of MyStreet. It's unfair to try and say Travis should be scrutinized for his borderline sexual harassment of some characters when it's not his fault that happened, he was written by writers who don't think this sort of behavior isn't all that bad if they make it out for comedy and punch him in the face.

And god dammit it's not Laurance's fault that his jealousy became the most prevalent emotion he felt. Laurance has always been a character to give into his vices and yet fight against them at the same time, it's what makes him compelling. If they were going to pull on those vices in order to make him a less appealing love interest, he never had a chance to really be his own character after a certain point. Because at a certain point in Season 2, Jesson stopped caring about the character they had been writing for over a hundred episodes at that point. They just wanted to canonize their self insert ship and were willing to do anything to get it.

Laurance isn't an abusive angry person who would have killed Aphmau if they got together. He's a flawed character being handled by incredibly flawed writers who are prone to making some of the worst decisions you have ever seen a creator make in regards to their character writing. He was caught in the crossfire of the adoration he received from a very dedicated fanbase, and the creator who would rather pretend he and his previous arc didn't exist for the sake of her fun. It's not Laurance's fault his arc was stilted, jerked around, and ultimately ended with him completely face planting. And yet still reliably dragging his bloodied body up at just the slightest glimmer of hope (Void Paradox).

It's deeply poetic and tragic that I can describe his character in universe and in the meta-textual sense that way, but we should never blame Laurance, or Aaron, or any other characters for things being like this.

They didn't write the show. Jess and Jason did.

#minecraft diaries #text post #aphblr #aphverse #laurance zvahl #garroth ro'meave #minecraft diaries laurance #mystreet #mystreet garroth #mystreet travis #bad writing #fandom discourse #fandom discussion #character discussion #character discourse

[oumaheroes]

Hi so I’ve seen you answering some asks and I thought I’d send one myself. I know you don’t do much of soft Arthur and Alfred but if you could that would make my day. Maybe something with a delirious!Al and comforting!dad!Artie? I just need like a tender moment between those two, where they’re not fighting.

Thank you so much 😘😘

ALRIGHT.

You've all been asking for long enough- here's the start of a multipart mini story that has taken me longer than I'd care to admit to get going (three almost full attempts, to be exact)

Characters: England, America

-------

Wreckage: Part 1

The smoke was metallic: sharpened acid and modern warfare.

‘Hello!’

England pulled at the wreckage, bare hands flinching at the searing pain of handling too-hot metal. He wished he’d worn his leather gloves, wished he had thought to put them on a mere few minutes ago when the crunching whirr of broken engines and crashing trees had woken him, but they lay useless and forgotten back at his campsite.

‘Can you hear me! Allô! Pouvez-vous m’entendre!’

The plane wore allied colours. It was a British make but that didn’t mean anything these days- the pilot could belong to any of the allied official or resistance groups. All England knew was that there was to be a drop coming, they were in the middle of nowhere, and that it all had apparently gone horribly, horribly wrong.

‘English! French! Polish! Czy ktoś mnie słyszy- is anyone alive in there!’

The door to the craft was stuck shut, parts of the top hinges warped and buckled from impact. He gave up on opening it to try for the window, pounding at the thick glass with the butt of his gun in fool’s panic (that, at least, he had been sensible enough to bring). He could see someone inside through the thick black smoke, an outline of shoulders and head that seemed to be moving slightly whenever the flames behind them near the engine choked.

This was occupied French territory; the nearest village was a while away but not that far. This crash would be noticed and investigated all too soon. The least England could do was to get in there and end the pilot’s misery before whoever shot them down came looking, there was no help for them out here.

That, and to be sure that there was nothing incriminating to be found.

‘Hang on! Almost there.’ Stepping back, he scanned the forest floor wildly for something better to use and caught sight of a large stone, half buried in the ground by the roots of a tree. It had rained recently, the ground was soft, and England tore into the dirt impatiently to work it free.

‘If you can hear me, sit back!’ Raising the rock above his head, he brought it down with a crash in the lower centre part of the windshield, hopefully far enough away from the pilot’s face. A hairline crack appeared, nothing more, but it was enough. England raised the rock again, choking as the smoke whirled about him, and kept going until the glass had splintered into delicate, cobweb-like lines.

One last hit made a hole. Smoke billowed out immediately and England worked quickly before the flames grew too intense on the new oxygen supply, hacking away until the hole was big enough to push an arm through. His fingers found material, sticky with something England didn’t want to think about, and a weak hand that gripped him back.

Taking a last breath of mostly fresh air, England pushed his upper half through to get to the cockpit, groping about blind until he felt the pilot’s seat straps. The heat was ferocious already, fire just behind where the poor man was trapped, and England fought not to take a breath or retreat to the safety of the cool night air. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, couldn’t see, and the glass bit into his stomach and arms when he leant more of his weight on the frame. It was a struggle but he pushed through, fingers groping by muscle memory to where he knew the clasps were, where he’d need to unhook an arm from the straps to pull the man free.

It would have been far easier to shoot the poor bastard.

It would have been quicker, kinder, than this certainly. No matter what happened, England wouldn’t leave him to die naturally. To die that way- encased in smoke, lungs desperately straining for clean air that wouldn’t come, flames against your feet- was one he knew all too well. It was a horrible way to go, one that he wouldn’t wish on anyone, but cruel though it was to make this child suffer needlessly, the engines hadn’t exploded yet and he couldn’t risk it.

Get him out first. See what message he had to give, if he could give it. Then let him go quickly and cleanly, the knife against England’s thigh waiting and patient.

It took three return trips for air, each one making his lungs burn more and more until he felt light headed and dizzy, but eventually they were free. Pilot cleared from his seat and legs thankfully clear, England hooked his arms under the man’s armpits and heaved them backwards out of the cockpit. There wasn’t far to go, the plane had nosedived onto its side in its final crash from the now broken trees, and they rolled backwards easily onto the forest floor.

The pilot screamed shrilly as they came free and gripped tight on England’s clothes to then sob piteously in his arms.

‘It’s alright.’ England sat up as carefully as he could and gently rolled the man off him to lay on his back. ‘You’re alright, I’ve got you.’

The pilot was a mess, aviator goggles and hair under his cap blackened by soot or oil or both. There was blood all over him, smeared across his neck and front that likely came from his head- England couldn’t tell. There wasn’t the time for it, and it wouldn’t matter soon anyway.

‘Give me your name.’ he asked urgently, struggling onto weak knees to sit over him, ‘Your ID and nationality, I’m-‘

He stopped.

Later, England couldn’t quite say what it was. He hadn’t noticed in the rush what he could feel now- the itch of someone like himself close by. But there was more, perhaps something about the pilot’s body that was familiar, or something deeper than that which ran through them both like the unbroken lines of history. An indescribable connection of family that mortal language couldn’t quite explain.

Fingers clumsy with sudden, familiar, terror, England tugged at the goggles which covered the pilot’s eyes and pitched forwards breathless and horrified at what he found.

‘Oh Jesus- Alfred.’

-------

AN:

The historical research that has gone into this is minimal, so please be kind to any inaccuracies that you see.

#hws england #hws america #aph england #aph america #hetalia #historical hetalia #hws #aph #arthur kirkland #alfred jones #alfred f jones #heroes writes #arthur parenting

[enigmatist17]

Catch me thinking about Dooku becoming Obi-Wan's Master after Qui-Gon basically abandons him for Anakin. Note this is them picking up Anakin a few years earlier, where I'm tossing Obi-Wan up at about 17 here.

-----

Obi-Wan walks out of the Council chambers and is starting to freak out at the possibility of being sent to another Master like an errant child, just so his Master could have a new charge. His chest feels heavy as he hurries into the first empty room he can find, and cuts his side of the bond with Qui-Gon off as he sinks to the floor and hugs his legs to his chest. He knows he shouldn't be upset, shouldn't be hurt, but it doesn't matter in the moment.

He's been replaced.

The day passes by in a blur until the feels a familiar presence enter the room, and doesn't have to look up when a gentle hand rests on his head.

"Come Padawan."

"Yes Master Dooku."

The taller man is gentle as he helps Obi-Wan to his feet, one hand remaining on Obi-Wan's shoulders as they make their way through and out of the Temple. The teen is rather curious when Dooku flags down a taxi, and after a quiet drive, they arrive at a café that is mostly empty, something Obi-Wan is quite grateful for at the moment.

"Please, order anything you wish." Dooku watches Obi-Wan pick up the menu, those bright eyes trailing back and forth as he looked it over. He can see the hurt that Obi-Wan was trying to push down like a good padawan, and only felt even more irritation at Qui-Gon. He'd been alerted by Yoda that Qui-Gon was requesting to train a child he and Obi-Wan had returned to the Council with, and had dropped his business in a nearby system to hurry back to Obi-Wan. According to the others he hadn't left the meditation room since that morning, and the older Jedi didn't hesitate to collect the teen.

"Master, what will happen now?" Obi-Wan stares down at the coffee he had ordered, stirring the multi-color foam on top into the drink with his chin resting on his free hand. "I'm assuming I'll be placed with another Master, or perhaps just assigned to the Temple until I can take on the challenges to become a Knight."

"Do you believe that your Master will not take you back?" Those bright blue eyes flicker up, and there's hesitance swirling around before Obi-Wan looks away.

"If I may? Quite plainly...no, he's been obsessed with his Chosen One since we rescued the boy and his mother." The foam is all gone now, and after taking a sip Obi-Wan lets out a pleased noise at the taste.

"I see." Dooku clicks his tongue in disapproval, sampling his own drink as they watch the evening traffic outside the window in a companionable silence.

"I apologize if I took you away from anything important." Dooku raised an eyebrow, and Obi-Wan sees a curious look cross the older Jedi's face.

"Master Yoda was the one to call me, not you. It was right he did as such, I am quite displeased with Qui-Gon." There's a huff from the older man, but Obi-Wan could tell it had no malice behind it. "Although it has been some time since he had been under my tutelage, gaining another padawan is always a welcomed honor."

"Master?" Obi-Wan blinked, watching Dooku take a sip of his drink like he hadn't just dropped a bombshell. "Is that - I mean can you?"

"The Council would object, but I do not care. That is, of course, if you find it agreeable?"

Obi-Wan doesn't respond for a few minutes, once again watching the traffic before giving a nod.

"Yes, Master."

They stay for another hour, leaving as Master and accepted Padawan as they slowly return to the Temple.

----------

I just think they're neat

#personal #star wars #the clone wars #clone wars #master dooku #count dooku #obi wan kenobi #I want Dooku to scoop Obi-Wan up and wrap him in a blanket

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 21 - Prompt: Wish @pandalilymicrofics

February Daily Series - 882 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

“Lily?” Pandora called, surprised the redhead wasn’t standing outside the medium’s tent. “Where did you go?”

“Well, well. Look who I found.”

She knew that voice. Dread settled heavy in her gut as she slowly turned around. Of all the people that she was prepared to face, he wasn’t one of them.

He was taller than she expected. Evan rarely went for tall blokes, but this one was obviously an exception. The man stood a full foot taller than her and she had to step back to look him over.

Barty had dark hair with faded green highlights and tattoos covering every inch of pale skin that showed through his ripped jeans and heavily stained t-shirt. The head of a snake curling up the side of his neck disappeared under his jaw. He eyed her with disgust as his lip curled into a sneer.

“You’re one of those…I should have guessed. I bet you think you can see the future in a crystal ball too,” he snarked, nodding toward the medium’s tent.

“What do you want?”

“An explanation, to start. I think you owe me that, at least.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

Barty straightened up and sauntered forward. His eyes narrowed as he approached. “That’s where you’re wrong. You pushed me too far.”

Pandora stuck her hand in her pocket and fumbled for her mobile. She pulled it out and frantically texted Sirius. He was the only one here who would understand why Regulus needed to hide.

🐼: 🚩Barty🚩

🐼: 🫥Reg

He slapped the phone out of her hand and leaned in too close. His breath reeked of weed and she could practically taste the acrid scent of Red Bull. Barty poked her shoulder and glared.

“I get it. I fucked it up with Reg, but Evan? He’s different.”

“Get my brother’s name out of your filthy mouth,” she snapped, shoving him away with all of her strength. Pandora darted out of the shade of the stall and into the sun.

Despite his slim form, Barty was both solid and fast. He stumbled back a few steps, but didn’t fall. Barty reached out and grabbed her wrist, then yanked her back and shook her hard. Fear paralysed Pandora as he quickly immobilised her arms behind her back and pinned her against the stall with his chest.

“Nice try! You need to answer me, you little cunt. Why did you—”

“Pandora? Who is this?” Lily’s voice shot adrenaline into her veins.

Pandora lunged at Barty, kicking and flailing wildly until he lost his hold. “You bastard! I wish that I hunted you down the first time. You thought I’d let you break my brother too?”

“It wasn’t — stop it! Listen! — that’s not what it was like — for fuck’s sake…stop! — it was different. I was different with Evan!”

“Too little, too late, arsehole!”

Pandora’s knee connected with his bollocks at the same time that Lily lunged at her. She was jerked away from Barty just as he staggered backwards with a sickly expression and his hands clutched to his groin. Lily wrapped her up in a hug and dragged her away from the man that Pandora left writhing in agony on the ground.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Lily asked.

She promptly tripped over a box of handmade toys in front of the neighbouring stall and fell, bringing Pandora with her. They toppled to the ground in a mass of limbs and Pandora landed awkwardly in her lap. The fall knocked the wind out of her and she struggled to regain it.

“Sorry!” Lily said as she shoved Pandora’s tangled skirt down past her knees and smoothed it out. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Really, I’m—”

Thunderous footsteps approached and when Pandora looked up, she found Regulus running full speed toward her with a crowd of people chasing after him. Several were shouting his name, but he ignored them as he called for her instead.

“Panda! Where are you? Panda!”

“Here! Regulus, I have her!” Lily called out suddenly, waving a hand.

He redirected at once and darted into the tent. Regulus dropped to his knees and cradled her face in his hands. “Oh thank goodness! Panda, are you okay? What happened?”

“Him. He happened,” Lily said, gesturing at Barty’s prone form.

James caught up first and practically barrel-rolled into the tent. He snatched up Regulus mid-spin as he crashed into the back of the stall. Pandora smothered a laugh at Regulus’s muffled, and French-filled, protests.

“Mon amor, you could have been hurt!” James said, smothering his face with loud, lip-smacking kisses.

They were sprawled amidst a mess of hand-carved wood crafts while the stall’s owner squawked at them in heavily-accented Welsh. Regulus’s eyes blew wide at the sight of the furious, red-faced man and he dove head-first under his boyfriend’s jumper. James tugged the collar out to peer inside with a delighted grin.

Lily vibrated with silent laughter and dropped her forehead onto Pandora’s shoulder. Equally delighted by her descent into madness, Pandora hugged her neck and toyed with her thick auburn braid wistfully.

She smelled like lilacs and the incense from the medium’s stall. Pandora breathed her in and closed her eyes.

I could get used to this.

Next Part>>>

#pandolily #lily x pandora #pandalily #pandalily microfics #pandora lovegood x lily evans #regulus and pandora #lily evans #pandora lovegood #pandora rosier #barty crouch junior #james potter #regulus black #marauders era

[sunnylands-world]

draco x lucias x reader smut

The Malfoy men

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem reader x Lucius Malfoy

Summary: you're just cleaning like usual when both Malfoy's decided to fill you with their cocks…

Word count: 1'680 possibly more

Warning: threesome, oral [both male and female receiving] unprotected sex, dirty talk, sir kink, pet names [slut, princess, whore] absolute filthy, spanking, squirting, Lucius is kinda are main star thought it was only fair since I haven't written for him in a long time, reader is filthy I think that's it let me know if I missed anything

Universe: Harry Potter

A/n: I think this is the most filthy thing ever [ Keep in mind you I haven't written anything like this before so bare with me]

You didn't know what time of day it was, most likely noon, since Mrs.malfoy was out grocery shopping as you made the bed for Lucius and Narcissa. You hummed in delight, turning to walk out when you came to a halt seeing Lucius at the door. You weren't sure how long he'd been there watching you and that made your heart race, but you kicked yourself for looking at this man as anything other than your boss, considering he was married. It made it all wrong that you were checking him out but you couldn't resist, he was so tempting.

His long platinum hair, God you loved that hair and you knew it would be soft if you pulled at it and his overall look just made you want to kneel before him. He was surely the type to degrade you, probably through you around a bit and if you're lucky, his large hand would leave a print on your ass.

"Can I help you sir," you said, your voice shaking. you weren't sure when you started hyperventilating.

"No, not with cleaning that is, " he whispered the end smoothly and your thighs squeezed tight.

"Then what would you like sir? a meal?" You are still trying to make this innocent.

"I'd like to eat you, " he states looking you over. His eyes moved slowly and you nearly choked.

"i- we-"

"You won't stop me if I do," he says, walking closer to you. your legs hit the bed.

"but your wife sir isn't this wrong?" You deny the damp panties between your legs.

"call me sir when I fuck my tongue into you okay," he says before he pushes you fully back, putting your legs up on the bed and spreading them revealing the black panties you wore.

"You definitely make black look better than I do, especially since you've decorated these for me." he groans.

"sir you can't-"

"Yes I can, and I'm going to make you shake and cry against my bed until I'm tired." he breathes, pulling you panties away, making you gasp. as if he knew you'd protest he attacked your pussy latching his mouth onto the area and licking you like a frozen treat. your hand grips his hair and it's just as soft as you imagined. you let out a breathless moan, your back arched.

"Lucius, oh god" you're not proud with how quickly you've given in but how could you not when he's making out with your wetness like this. his eyes are shut and you only partly wish you could see the blue color but it really doesn't matter at the moment. you're up on your arms watching him but your head drops back occasionally.

"fuck!" You cry, rutting against his face.

"You taste so good! you're such a slut for letting me do this. you didn't even really try to stop me, just let me stick my tongue in your sweet little pussy." he growls, his hands gripping your thighs to pull you closer, feet resting on his shoulders. your eyes roll back and you moan on a loop not feeling the slightest bit of worry or guilt as your toes curl against him. your chest rises and falls but he pulls back. you think you'll cry from losing the delicious feeling of his tongue against you.

"don't worry my little slut I'll have you full soon" he says, noticing the pout on your face. He pulls his dress pants down revealing his cock to you. you try not drooling seeing the thick shaft in front of you. his tip red and swallow, the veins running along his length and he's gotta be a good seven maybe even eight. you don't even hesitate spreading your legs wide for him presenting your soaked pussy for his use.

"good little whore. take your clothes off for me, I wanna see all of you." he says. you listen, pulling away your top, your breast bouncing when you get them free. you go to lay on your back but he shakes his head.

"on your hands and knees" he ordered and you listen, getting on all fours trying to anticipate the thrust before it comes but you can't since your eyes trail to the door that's slightly cracked.

What about-

He's buried himself in you. He didn't even go in slowly and it completely cleared your thoughts. He's deep, really deep and he's got himself pressed right against your spot, your wet walls snug around him remembering every fine curve and vein until he begins to move, thrusting into you hard. god, you're sure your g-spot won't exist once he's done beating it like this. your arms are struggling to hold you, his hands gripping your hips bruising the skin.

your eyes roll again and your sure you looked fucked dumb with your mouth hung open constant whines and whimpers leaving you loudly as he slams into you. you've never been able to drip all down your thighs with arousal but you've never been fucked by Lucius Malfoy.

"Draco, you can come in now" he called from behind you and you're not sure you heard him right until…holy shit. Draco's in the room in his boxers and a t-shirt and you can tell from the tent in them that he inherited his father's size.

"Jesus father have you fucked her stupid already?" Draco chuckles. you shake your head. you really want him to put your mouth to good use and quiet your noisy cries.

"Draco please" you beg and Lucius laughs behind you.

"God am I not good enough for you. you need us both," Lucius teased and you nod, your mouth coming open tongue hanging out.

"fuck you asked for it and I'm gonna leave that throat of yours soar" draco growls, pulling his boxers down and your assumption was correct, he is about eight but you don't get to ponder it long before he sticks his cock into your mouth. you hum in appreciation, hollowing your cheeks, your tongue flat against his cock as you suck like you're trying to get every drop. his head falls back with a groan as he grabs both sides of your face pushing all the way.

He goes slower than his father trying to give you time to relax and you're grateful for it as you take a breath through your nose. He bucks his hips into your face, bringing your nose to his base as you gag at bit.

"fuck that's good. Her mouth's nice, warm, and wet." Draco moans,

"just like her pussy." Lucius says, smacking your ass and you moan, clenching around him.

"Oh, you like that don't you." he says, repeating the motion and you let tears of pleasure fall from your eyes as they begin to move. Lucius pulls you back and sends you forward making you engulf Draco's cock, drool running out the corners of your mouth.

"dirty fucking girl, your making a mess." Draco says, eyeing your hazed over look. He'd photograph it if he could. it doesn't take long for the boys to get into a rhythm of a brutal pace. you take this down as the sluttiest thing you've ever done and you're not ashamed as either of them slide in and out of you like a toy. you let your tongue lick around him as much as you can with him being so big and thrusting into you. your breathing is labored and you know you'll need to breathe soon so you work harder to get Draco to fill your mouth with his taste.

you know you're doing something right with the tightening of his balls. you applaud yourself for getting both men at once and you definitely wouldn't change a thing with the way they are taking you. you'd never be able to decide between them when they both are so alluring with their looks. Lucius grows sloppy behind you and draco's mumbling gibberish as he thrust into you. you whine letting him know you need air and he seems to get it pulling out letting you take in oxygen and your moans come out after with tears coming down your cheeks.

You sound like you're crying but it's all so intense and so good that you're shameless about letting them know, you're babbling about it.

"you're a loud little princess for us aren't you?" Draco asks, crouching down a bit so he's at eye level. you nod to gone to piece together words.

"I like that," he whispers, before he crashes his lips on yours tasting himself. you kiss back with the same need till he pulls away putting his cock back inside your mouth. you go back to work sucking hard when you feel yourself shake and tremble then you're gushing and you're not even with them anymore. everything's white like you've risen to a place beyond Earth till you're pulled back with a hard deep thrust into your throat and you know Draco's coming right behind as Lucius pulls out cleaning his and your mess from between your legs.

you let Draco use you till he reaches his end with an animalistic growl. his salty taste fills your mouth, some of it coming out the corner of your lips. your addicted to his taste sucking it from him till he hisses pulling away. he bends again kissing you before he goes and gets another towel cleaning the mess that was all over your neck. he grabs you from the bed as Lucius cleans the sheets remaking it all with a flick of his wand.

"stay with her while I get water and food" Lucius says and draco nods cuddling beside you.

"How are you, princess?" He asks, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"I'm pretty happy," you stretch like a cat after a nap.

"I got fucked by both Malfoy's" you finish and draco chuckles as your eyes flutter.

Draco lovers and requests

@alexxavicry, @sarahthehuffpuff, @supercoffeeblogs, @thatwattpadobsessed, @amyclare04, @kyracanwrite, @animeloverfreak310, @imafangirl22, @phildunphyisadilf, @jac1ndaa

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fluff #draco x reader #malfoy #draco imagine #draco fluff #draco fanart #draco malfoy smut #draco smut #draco fic #lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy

[too-many-pockets]

Dreykov’s Daughter

(Part one)

Kara Danvers/Zor El x Red room reader

My first post guys :DD Lemme know if you want me to continue or any requests. I’ve never posted anything I’ve written before so I hope you guys enjoy :) I might post some of a book I’m writing as well

“Kara Zor-El.”

Your father spoke. “A client of ours wants her dead. I’m putting you on the job.” You nodded, you were the best widow of your generation and you knew it. Your father knew it. “She’s a kryptonian, an alien from another planet. Our weapons won’t hurt her, so you’re getting new ones.” He slid two daggers and a loaded gun across the desk you were both seated at.

“Is that all?” You asked curiously. “Do you need more?” Dreykov’s tone was condescending and there was nothing you hated more than disappointing him. When you disappointed him you were punished. Harshly. You quickly grabbed the weapons and shoved them in your belt. “No sir. Where will I be stationed?” You asked, wanting to get him out of this mood. “National City, Los Angeles.”

“I know you won’t disappoint me.”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

Kara was smiling as she returned to the DEO having just busted a renowned jewel thief when she ran into her sister. “Alex! Did you hear about that jewel thief I busted?”

“Yeah, great job Kar.” Alex was hovering over a few papers on the desk. Kara walked over.

“What’s that?” She hummed curiously. “Some sort of organization, not a lot of information.” It must have really been a tough case because Alex was doing that thing she always does when she’s stressed.

“Want me to try to check it out?” The blonde offered, “I have some free time.” Alex signed. “I would if there was anything to check out, but we don’t have one possible location! It’s like this place doesn’t even exist!” The kryptonians sister pinched her nose. “Well what’s it called? Maybe Lena knows something.”

“The red room.”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

You had spent weeks training the guard schedule of the DEO so you knew at exactly 4:02 am you would have a three minute window to get inside the heavily guarded building and into a vent to hide until further notice, which is exactly what you did. Currently you were hiding in said vent above a somewhat spacious quiet room that the alien used to communicate with a hologram of her mother, at least as far as you were aware. You blew a strand of h/c hair out of your face. It had been a few hours and you were starting to get clammy. You were used to having to wait during missions, but that doesn’t mean you liked it. You wished Kara would just come in already, you wished you could just get this mission over with so you could go home. Home? The red room wasn’t home, not really. It was all you knew. The only thing you knew, and you wouldn’t let the man who saved you down. Not now, not ever.

After what felt like hours, the blonde kryptonian entered the room, seemingly outraged at something if her storming around was any sign. Your hands curled around the handle of the knife you were provided, posing it in a way that would make it easy to plunge into her pretty little chest. Despite your elation, your face showed not a hint of emotion, just as you were trained to. You noticed Kara begin to yell at the hologram. How pitiful, you thought, to be so controlled by your own emotions. You silently opened the vent and dropped onto her shoulders, covering her mouth.

“Mmh!” She yelled against your hand and grappled to grab your legs. In response, you press the slightly green glowing dagger against her neck.

“Stay quiet, princess.”

You pushed the blade further into her neck, threatening to draw blood. She lifts her hands in surrender and you hesitantly uncover her mouth.

“Who are you?”

She says quietly and as calmly as she can. Climbing off of her shoulders and standing behind her, you answer.

“The last thing you’ll see.”

Suddenly, the blondes sister burst through the door.

“Kara it’s not-“

She stopped at the scene in front of her. You silently thanked yourself for making a mask. You cut Kara just above her collarbone before bolting through the door. Behind you you could hear Alex run to her sister. It wouldn’t be long before the whole DEO was on your ass, and that wouldn’t be good. Your father always said ‘failure is forgivable, to be captured is not.’ You ran straight into the chest of Hank Hanshaw who grabbed your arms and wrenched them behind your back, kicking you onto your stomach. You bite your lip to hold back a scream. No. You cannot fail. You can not fail. He won’t forgive you, your father won’t forgive you. You don’t dare show your fear. That’s rule number one of the red room. Alex quickly appeared and pressed a gun to your head, you heard the safety click off.

“What the fuck did you do to my sister?” She growled. She roughly grabbed your face and held it up so you would meet her eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” You wheezed in response. She kicked your face. Feeling the blood enter your mouth, you spit it on her collar. That was the last thing you remembered before you were knocked out.

— — — — — — — — — — — —

#supergirl #kara danvers #kara zor el #kara x reader #first post

[the-butterfly-blues]

Reading Aloud

Pairing: Matthew Murdock x Reader Summary: Reading to Matt has become a near daily action, one both of you enjoy. Word Count: 595 Masterlist Requests or Prompts you'd like to see are gladly welcome.

Soft classical music fills the apartment as she leans with her back against the armrest and her legs crossed on the couch with a book in her lap.

"Are you reading without me?"

His voice comes from the bedroom, changing out of his work attire into something more comfortable. He only receives a hum so soft that if his hearing wasn't enhanced, he never would've heard her. This hum causes him to quicken his pace, nearly feeling betrayed that she's reading what he assumes is their book without him.

"Wait. Did you just say something?"

Whenever she reads, she becomes so enthralled by the world in the pages that she blocks almost everything out. He's almost sure if she was reading and someone broke in, she wouldn't notice anything until she was finished with that chapter. Stepping out of the bedroom, he sits on the furthest cushion from her with a pout. If she wasn't utterly confused, she'd giggle at the sight of a grown man pouting like a child.

"You're reading without me." "Uh, yes?" "Is it our book?"

She feigns a gasp in horror at his question, seemingly appalled that he would even ask such a thing.

"You think I would do such a thing? How dare you."

Her teasing tone earns a small chuckle.

"I wasn't reading our book, silly. Now, get over here before I decide to do just that."

As soon as she leans back from grabbing their book off the coffee table, he lies down, resting his head comfortably in her lap with a content hum. She flips it open to the last page they read and begins reading aloud. He can feel her torso twist slightly as she holds the book to the side with one hand, not wanting it to land on his face if she accidentally dropped it. Her other hand runs gently through his hair, her nails occasionally scratching against his scalp. About half an hour passes when he speaks up as she takes a second before starting the next chapter.

"Have I ever told you how much I love your voice?"

He raises his arm, hand finding her cheek to gently caress it.

"You have. Every time I read to you." "Does that annoy you?"

Closing the book, she sets it on the ground. With her now free hand, she cups his face with such care that he can't help but sigh and push further into her hold.

"Absolutely not. I don't think you could ever annoy me. Intentionally at least."

They chuckle before maneuvering themselves so they can both comfortably lay down. He lies on top of her, arms wrapped around her waist and head buried in her neck while one of her hands continue to run through his hair and the other rubs soothing circles on his back.

"You're perfect."

And to him, she is. There isn't one single thing he would ever wish to change about her.

"You're perfect. Even if you don't believe it sometimes."

With what he once saw as his disadvantage in this world, he never thought of himself as perfect, but with her help, he realized that perfect isn't exactly what people make it out to be. Everyone has their own version of it and she has led him to believe that those versions should be of themselves. Of himself.

"This is perfect. I wouldn't change one single thing about you. About us."

He places soft kisses on her neck as she kisses the side of his head.

“This is perfect,” he mumbles contentedly against her neck.

#daredevil #matthew murdock #matt murdock #reader insert #female reader insert #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock x reader

[thewarriorspecial]

And uh here’s the johnkyle I just can’t quite get into. I dunno. Probably gonna shelve this until I get a better direction for it.

John’s perfect posture belied the boredom wriggling through his body. This entire meeting could’ve been an email. The ring on his finger provided better intel at the speed of light. John already knew he’d be put into a leadership position and he had already identified a more efficient approach which would negate everything Batman was telling the League from his tall chair at his end of the table.

As a polite man, John didn’t interrupt. Moments like these he wished he had Gardner’s more direct approach to Batman’s plans.

Batman’s Batplans. Na na na na na na na Batplans. Batplans.

John smiled to himself and let his mind wander.

As a perpetual Titan there wasn’t a seat for Kyle at the table. The younger man shifted his weight where he leaned on one of the massive window arches nearby. As a perpetual Titan he also didn’t get a say in anything and was really just here because he was still asleep in John’s bed when the “emergency” meeting had been called.

Which was fine because the closer Kyle was the less John had to travel to get back to what he’d rather be doing.

Kyles uniform fit like a second skin. And that was odd because John knew Kyle had nothing but baggy tie dyed pants on when they left.

He had heard Kyles excited shout when the smaller man had dug John’s old pants out of the dresser and started hauling them on without asking.

“These are awesome!!” Kyles eyes shone so bright that John was unbothered by the phrase which was Future Kyle’s unconscious way of apologizing for never giving them back. They looked better on Kyle anyways.

They’d look even better on the floor somewhere.

John knew where all of the cameras were around the Watchtower. More importantly he knew where the blind spots were. Perfect little places where he could get Kyle alone for a few minutes. Just little secret corners, he thought as Batman’s monotone carried on. Little fuck cubbies. A tiny smile lifted the corners of Johns full lips.

He could shove Kyle into one of those corners, push those thin pants that his nothing right out of his way and—

Oh. Uh oh. Everyone’s looking at John expectantly. Uh oh.

He searched his mind for the last discernible syllables that had made it into his brain.

Something something brainiac. Something blah blah space, blah Green Lantern, something long range blah blah.

That’s right, I was a sniper. They want me to shoot at Brainiac from space because I can fly. Time to drop the bad news that the plan is bad and he had a better idea.

John stands up, acknowledges Batman’s thorough planning and pitches his idea instead.

The faces of the heroes gathered at the table are all frozen in an expression between confusion and shock.

John nodded slowly. He’d floored them with his plan.

“John, I —“ Batman started “—greatly appreciate all of your input with the last Brainiac incursion and I recognize how much you think about the leagues security…”

“But?”

“But…we are just washing and reinforcing the windows.”

“Rigjt,” John kept his face steady and stoic though he was aflame with embarrassment, “Um. My bad, chief. Haven’t been sleeping well.” John made a fuss of shuffling his chair into a batter position. “Thank you all for your time and carry on.” He added a nod and a little wave to signal that he was done and it was okay to stop looking at him now.

Surely finger guns would’ve been too much?

Kyle snickered and finally everyone looked away from John.

Great. Now everyone knows they’re sleeping together.

Can’t people just mind their own business and utilize emails and eliminate all meetings forever?

#johnkyle #why won’t my brain just let me write them fuckin sloppy style #I know they’re cute brain I know #let em fuck lol

[fangirlshrewt97]

Smoke Curling Around Us

@burningsheepcrown is a hazard, but we love her anyways. Here is another Dhruya fic prompted by her doodle, which you can find here. 

Also I wrote this on my phone, I hope there aren’t any glaring typos I missed.

///

Dhruya hissed in relief as the acrid burn of tobacco hit his lungs, a small relief to the migraine that was building in the back of his skull. The new IG had called for a meeting of the heads of all the divisions as well as some of the local heads of the smaller departments. And then proceeded to yell about them all being collectively incompetent.

Dhruva knew there were political machinations at play here that he was unaware of, but hearing the man lecturing them about not doing any work properly really made him want to scream. Not doing any work, as if Dhruva hadn't spent nearly a decade at this job, giving everything to it. Everything.

"I'm surprised you still smoke."

Dhruva stiffened at the sound of the voice that still made a regular appearance in his dreams. He resolutely stayed staring ahead as another body came to stand beside him. A flash of fire lit up his peripheral vision as Daya lit up his own cigarette and took a puff.

He took in another inhale of the cigarette. "Its only on rare occasions. These things will likely kill us anyways though."

Daya hummed. "Considering you apparently still work yourself to the bone, I still have my bet on you being your own cause of death."

Dhruva scoffed. "Did you sleep through that whole lecture we were just subjected to? Apparently we are useless and lazy."

"You know me Banga-" Daya started jovially.

"Don't." Dhruva cut in sharply, turning his head to glare at Daya.

The years had done wonders to the man, standing in front of him in a suit that made his shoulders seem incredibly broad. He had shaved some of the hair at his sides, and there were even a few flecks of white Dhruva could pick out. His eyes still took up half his face though. And the glasses, new, suited him. In fact they seemed to magnify his eyes.

Daya's smile dropped at Dhruva's interruption. "You don't get to be angry ASP garu. Oh, I'm sorry, I meant DSP garu."

Dhruva gave him another withering glance and marched to his office. He ran a hand through his hair, taking another big puff from his cigarette. He wished the burn extended to his heart too, it would lessen the pain.

But before he could get to his chair, a hand grabbed his arm, spinning him on his heel until he was pressed up against the wall of his office, hidden from view of anyone walking by the hallway. A convenient blind spot. Of course the bastard spotted it immediately.

"Stop walking away from me Dhruva." Daya growled, and it was only the second time Dhruva had ever seen him so clearly angry but holding it in. He still looked so damn beautiful.

"It was for the best Daya. We agreed-" Dhruva tried to protest before Daya got in his face. The lingering cigarette smoke was starting to irritate Dhruva's eyes. Daya grabbed a hold of his tie, tightening the fabric in his hand. It didn't even cross Dhruva's mind to push him away, not when his body felt like a live wire just from the close proximity.

"We didn't agree to shit. You unilaterally made the decision you thought would be best for us, and I let you walk away because I was scared too. But it's been five years, and I know. I know neither of us have found anything that came close to what we had." Daya growled, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth to quench it against the wall and dropped it on the carpet. He did the same to Dhruva's. The younger man couldn't see past the redness of Daya's lower lip.

"So? Are you going to say you leaving was still the right choice?" Daya asked, eyes hard.

If there was one thing Dhruva had learned in the past five years, it was that he wasn't as strong a man as he pretended to be. He grabbed at Daya's head and hauled him in for a kiss, a messy thing more noses and teeth clashing. Daya's glasses were biting into the skin of his nose. But they fixed themselves quickly, this rhythm familiar to their bodies even if their hearts and minds were out of practice.

Shit, they had to go back to the meeting with the IG in a few minutes. Dhruva moaned as Daya grabbed at his thigh, pulling it to wrap around his waist so he could grind their hips together.

"Dhruva..." Daya growled, and Dhruva whimpered. How many times had he heard that exact sound in his dreams in the past five years. Fuck he would let this man do anything to him.

Daya ducked down to suck on Dhruva's neck, and the younger man clutched at Daya's hair as he tilted his head to give him better access. Dhruva rolled his hips once, making Daya snarl against his skin as he slammed Dhruva's hips with his own.

And then suddenly Daya was an arms length away and Dhruva was left half collapsing against the wall. Daya looked deranged, lips shiny with spit as his pupils were dilated so large only a tiny ring of chocolate could be seen.

"Daya ..." Dhruva pleaded, but the other man stayed away.

"Here's what going to happen," Daya said, and god when had they become this way. But then again hadn't Daya always been the braver if the two when it came to matters of the heart? "You are going to clean yourself up, we are going to suffer through the rest of the stupid meeting, and then you are going to take me to your house."

Daya whimpered as he nodded clumsily. Daya's stare pinned him as well as his hands had. He reached forward to lightly caress Dhruva's cheek with the back of his hand. The gentleness of the action was in direct contrast to his rough behavior, and Dhruva felt some tears burn at the edge of his eyes. When he opened his eyes, Daya was standing close again. "You are going to take me to your bed, and I'm going to show you exactly why you were wrong. Understood?"

Dhruva felt a tear fall, but it didn't get far as Daya grabbed his chin and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Enough breaking each other's hearts Bangaram."

And then he was gone before Dhruva could force his eyes open again. His chest was heaving as he struggled to breathe. His hands were shaking, and he desperately wanted another cigarette. But Daya had given him orders, and orders were one thing he was really good at following.

Taking a fortifying breath, he tried to fix his tie. He only had 2 minutes to make himself presentable.

///

Forgive me for the title, I had no idea what to call this thing. 

Feedback is appreciated!!

Tagging (Please please work, Tumblr I beg you):  @rambheem-is-real @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @junebugyeahhh​ @hissterical-nyaan @obsessedtoafault @hufhkbgg @yehsahihai​ @rorapostsbl​ @bluesolace1​ @fadedscarlets​ @alikokinav​ @chaotic-moonlight​ @rambheemisgoated​ @rambheemlove​ @jaganmaya​ @burningsheepcrown​ @lovingperfectionwonderland​ @rosayounan​ @iam-siriuslysher-lokid​ @thewinchestergirl1208​ @dumdaradumdaradum​ @ronaldofandom​ @jjwolfesworld​ @percikawantstoread​ @kashpaymentsonly​ @jeonmahi1864​ @zackcrazyvalentine​ @stanleykubricks​ @m3gs1mps4a​ @tulodiscord​ @teddybat24​ @sally-for-sally​

#rrr #dhruya #dhruva x daya #dhruva #dhruva film #daya #temper #temper film #my fic #my writing #dhruya fanfic

[your-enby-antihero]

A Floating Sky Bar Filled with Guilt

Summary: What if Dorian had heard the events of the battle with Otohan through the sending stone.

CW: Major Character Death, Heavy Angst, Self blame

Notes: I know that sending doesn’t work like this but like the angst was just too good not to. This is how I coped after watch episode 33, enjoy :)

———————————————

They were sitting on the floating bar, somehow in the few weeks that they had both broken out of Kymal with enough money to save Cyrus. Dorian had this sense of dread and anxiety, he had left and Orym and Fearne were fucking strong, he knew it. But it didn’t stop him from clutching the sending stone just that little bit tighter than before. 

It helped when he heard Orym’s voice, every now and again the stone would glow and he would scramble to hold it and listen. Just knowing that Orym was alive was enough, Orym wouldn’t let anything happen to Fearne, so if he was still talking Fearne would steal another day.

But that morning was different, Mor sat with Opal and Fy’ra Rai. Fy’ra Rai had been shaken up by seeing her sister at the Maiden’s Wish, it had shaken someone Dorian thought unshakable. Dariax sat next to him patting his back and telling him that they were fine, everything was going to be okay and that Orym and Fearne were tough and not to worry too much because they had those new friends and they would surely protect them.

“Dorian it’ll be alright bud, they’ll call if anything happens. We’d know and then we’d rush over okay,” Dariax said trying to give Dorian a reassuring smile.

Cyrus was on look out so he hadn’t seen Dorian’s state, Dorian hoped that there were no incidents this morning, he felt enough dread though to make Cyrus take the boots and take a look around.

It was a little while, Dariax’s words had helped a bit, he was able to come down from the near panic attack he was having before. Until he felt the flow of the stone. 

Thank whatever gods are looking down at him now, he picked the stone out of his pocket. He pushed away from Dariax and moved to the furthest edge of the Sky deck. They were okay they were okay they were okay they were-

The sounds that echoed from the stone were horrifying, the sound of battle and then in rapid succession two thunks. Dorian had never seen his allies die before but the sound that he heard wasn’t the sound of being knocked prone. 

“We’ve met before,” a sickening voice leered.

“Yeah,” Orym said and then a thick thud, one that sounded too eerilyclose to the heavy hit and slicing of Orym’s armour.

In the background he heard Imogen crying out, and what really hit the nail in the coffin was the whisper he heard. Fearne’s voice a bare whisper.

“Boy that was a hell of a run.”

Dorian heard the sickening sound of a sword dealing a fatal blow to someone, the choked agony of a final breath. 

“Orym! Orym! Fearne! Anyone! Orym are you there are you okay please, please answer me. I need to know if you’re okay. Come on bud I can't, I can't lose you.”

Nothing, the spell ended and the stone stopped glowing and Dorian screamed. He screamed in grief and agony and rage at the fact that he couldn’t have been there to protect them, that the Hells weren’t strong enough to protect them.

Dariax ran up to him, “hey Dorian what’s happening are they okay?”

When he turned to look at Dariax, blue cheeks cut with just a few tear drops, lip quivering. Dariax started crying too. 

“Wait wait wait, they’re okay right. Orym’s tough and Fearne can handle it right! They’re both fine right?”

Dorian collapsed into Dariax, catching the rest of the group’s attention. Opal sprang from her spot next to Fy’ra and bolted over to the two.

“Dorian what’s up dude. Is there something going on? Is something wrong with Orym and Fearne”

Through choked sobs Dorian recounted the sending message and the group huddled together. And all Dorian could think of was that stinging guilt after an old man said that he was fine to walk alone at night. He should have been there to protect them.

#critical role #campaign three #bell’s hells #the crown keepers #dorian storm #cr spoilers #cr c3 #cr3 e33