I just saw the start date of TRT on AO3. 2017!
I only just got into the Daredevil Fandom in December 2022. I just binged the fic over the course of a week and now I'm in Jane/Matt withdrawal.
Send help
It did start it late in 2017! I wrote the first 4 chapters over a year and a half or so, before took a hiatus for a few years due to some life stuff.
The good news is I kept thinking about TRT. It was constantly rolling around in the back of my mind, and every now and then I'd write down ideas, gradually filling in my outline while everyone basically thought I was dead and TRT slowly faded from memory. I bided my time until all was ready.
Cue me in Jan 2021 appearing in the inboxes of everyone who forgot they'd subscribed like
I'm not sure what those that had stuck around were expecting (there was a lot of joy but also a lot of confused screaming) but I'm fairly certain Jan 13, 2021 was not the day they expected my feral, Matt-obsessed ass to suddenly reappear from the ether after 2 years of radio silence and feverishly begin dropping 6-10k words of plot on them every week for roughly the next two years (happy belated 2 year end-hiatus anniversary everyone!).
Anyway, I'm so so happy to welcome you to our little side of the Marvel fandom! I can promise we'll absolutely get some more Jane/Matt this week, I gotta keep ya'll fed and me too tbh i like reading trt. 😂
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have we talked about the woolworths debacle yet?
Sigh.
Alright kids strap in, because the culture wars are back and stupider than ever.
So there are two characters you need to be familiar with in this story before we continue:
Woolies (i.e. Woolworths) - One of two supermarket chains in Australia. Not related to the giant Woolworths chain that used to exist overseas, other than the Aussie one swiped the name because the original forgot to trademark the name 'Woolworths' here. Biggest company in Aus, and also the biggest employer. Not a brand anyone with more than two braincells would pick a fight with.
Peter Dutton - Man with less than two braincells, and current leader of the political opposition in Australia. Best known for bearing a passing resemblance to a potato and once demanding that a homophobic song get played for balance when a football halftime show performed 'Same Love'. His reputation is so bad that if you told an Australian that Dutton's favorite pastime was drowning puppies, they probably would believe you.
And to prove our point, here's the best headline a friendly newspaper could come up with to try spin his image:
The third thing you need to know is that in Australia we have a national holiday called "Australia Day" which is basically a scheduled day for everyone to get into a giant argument.
This is because for the last 30ish years it has been held on the anniversary of the British claiming the land around Sydney as a colony which was:
a) More the founding of an English prison then the founding of Australia, and more importantly
b) from the perspective of the people who were already living here, kindof a very shit day
Now not everyone agrees on this, and even those that don't 'celebrate' will often still have a get together with friends, but it can't be denied that we've shifted a long way from the days when the country used to celebrate Australia Day by kitting ourselves out in Aussie flag budgie smugglers, drinking enough beer to drown Harold Holt, and partying like it's 1789.
(Now a brief break for a real photo of Peter Dutton at a press conference)
Good luck sleeping tonight. Anyway back to the story.
As a result of this shift away from the trend of showing your patriotism by wearing Australian flag underpants, this year Woolworths decided that they were no longer going to be rolling out their box of southern cross thongs - on the grounds that "this kitschy shit never sells" and they are far too busy with more important things like blaming price gouging on inflation and installing self-checkout machines that think your canvas bag is a crime against humanity.
Never a man to miss an opportunity to act like a massive twat, upon hearing that Woolies had dumped their flag merch, Peter Dutton rushed onto the airwaves to declare that Woolworths had "gone woke" (paging 4chan circa 2009) and called for the country to boycott the store, a story which Australia's media have gleefully put on loudhale for over a week now in order to drive outrage clicks.
We at this point remind you that Woolworths is a company which, as we previously mentioned, basically has a monopoly on selling food in this country. Not exactly something you can boycott.
(Another real Dutton photo break)
Needless to say Dutton's dumbass plan did not immediately put Woolies out of business, however the relentless media campaign by Rupert Murdoch's minions did result in a bunch of innocent low-wage floor staff being harrassed by The Dark Lord's fanboys and a few Woolies stores were graffitied.
Allegedly being the 'free market' guy, Dutton also kindof snookered himself by demanding the free market not decide the fate of Australia day, but logic was never one of his strong suits.
Anyway, in the end we're just going to keep having this dumb circular argument every year, fulled by a media who love fanning the flames, until a politician has the guts to shift the date to May 8 (pronounced m8), and everyone promptly forgets this was ever a thing.
All in all, that's the long and the short of it. As a final touch we'll leave you with this real tweet by Opposition Leader Peter Dutton, in all its batshit glory.
We look forward to the absolute dumpster fire of comments this post is going to generate - as is the Australia Day tradition.
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broken lamps - cl16
Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
Summary: anon request 'Charles flying to see his lover in another country but getting so needy he ends up fucking her in the hallway of her apartment on the floor.'
Warnings: smut, 18+, spitting, unprotected sex
Word Count: 1,239
Author's Note: please comment any thoughts!!! I love hearing feedback. I had fun writing this!! Hopefully it's up to your standards. I'm still new at this whole writing thing. BUT ANYWAYS CHARLES P2!!! BITTERSWEET END TO THE SEASON. CAN'T BELIEVE ITS OVER. TIME TO TOSS THE SF-23 IN THE TRASH!!!!!!
French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!!
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
CHARLES WAS NOT a particularly needy person. In fact, one would say that he tended to be self-sufficient and independent. But when he was needy, he was needy. And quite demanding too.
He wasn’t supposed to be home for another two days, but he couldn’t bear the idea of having to wait longer.
For three long weeks, the absence of your touch weighed heavily on him. Your inability to attend the races due to work in the past few weeks had taken a toll, unraveled his composure and pushed him to the brink of madness.
Which is how he found himself standing in front of your door in the middle of the night, urgently pounding his knuckles into it. A suitcase at his side, and his hair disheveled. He was already hard. He hasn’t even seen you yet, and he could already feel the blood rushing to his cock.
You could barely unlock the door before feeling him push it open and slamming it shut, leaving his suitcase abandoned in the hallway of the apartment building – long forgotten in the heat of the moment.
He was so needy. He couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t even wait to go down the hallway to the bedroom.
His lips immediately pressing into yours as he pulled you into him.
“Bébé, I need to feel you,” He groaned in between kisses, pushing you up on top of the table in the entry way of your apartment. His hands exploring every inch they could find, kissing and biting into your skin with intense desire. He repeatedly brushed himself up against your lace covered core, letting you feel just how hard he was. How much he wanted you. How much he needed you.
It was almost too easy. You were only in a silk robe, with lace underwear and a thin tank top.
“Charles,” you moaned, feeling the pads of his fingers slip past the lace to rub your clit in soft circles. You gazed up at him as he hastily pulled down your spaghetti strap tank top, allowing your breasts to spill over the fabric. His other hand immediately pinching your nipple in between his thumb and forefinger.
The attack of his hands on your nipples and your clit was enough to send you over the edge quickly. He knew your body like the back of his hand. Like it was his. Because it is.
“So fucking hot,” Charles groaned as he watched the lace of your lace underwear dampen from your orgasm. “Missed you so much baby,” he leans over to press his lips to yours amidst your moans.
Your hands roamed his body, which was still mostly clothed, aside from his sweats half shoved down. Too impatient to fully get undressed. You glanced down at his cock; it was smooth, and you could see the precum dripping from it. Poor baby, you thought.
“I need you,” you squeezed his biceps as Charles stood up straighter and looked down at you.
His gaze darkened, and you could feel it penetrating your soul. It carried a possessive intensity. His left hand firmly gripped your hip, anchoring you to the small entryway table. He stood between your legs, leaving them spread completely.
“Gonna take all of me like a good girl, right?” He mocked as he aligned himself with your entrance. He didn’t push in right away, just held it there as he stared down at you pressed against the table. Like you were his own personal feast.
You couldn’t find the words. All you could do was nod your head eagerly.
“Look at you,” his fingers rolled one of your nipples between them slowly, “my sweet little girl just waiting to be fucked hard until you cum all over my cock.”
“Please,” you begged. You were not against begging. Especially if it meant you could finally feel him. You couldn’t slip out another beg before he pushed himself right into you. The burning stretch eliciting moans from both of you.
“Merde,” he hissed. The squeeze of you on his cock was heavenly. “So warm, ma chérie” He was ravaging you now. There was something different with Charles tonight, not by much – but a slight difference. He was more urgent and eager than normal. Like you would disappear into thin air if he didn’t grip your hips so tightly.
His gaze never faltered from yours as his hips rocked into yours aggressively. The room was full of breathy moans and the entry level table banging into the wall along with each thrust of Charles hips into you.
The force of his hips sent the small white lamp tumbling to the floor, shattering it no doubt. Neither of you bothered to glance at it. Too unraveled in each other. It was as if you didn’t even hear the lamp break.
One of your hands grasped your knee closer to your chest, while the other gripped onto Charles bicep of the arm that pressed into your neck. His hand squeezing your neck ever so slightly with just the right amount of pressure.
“Charles, I’m going to,” you didn’t even finish your sentence before he cut you off.
“Yeah? Again? That quick?” He was so fucking cocky. “Open up for me, baby.”
You didn’t even have to question what he meant. Instantly opening your mouth, he spit a string of his saliva into your mouth. His eyes burning into your soul. You felt your pussy clench around his cock at the feeling of his saliva hit your tongue.
“Fuck. Your tight pussy can barely fit me, huh?” It was so tight. Charles could feel himself shuttering at the feeling. “Need to stretch you out. Three weeks was too long?” His hips were faltering with each thrust as he felt himself edging closer to his orgasm.
A sound similar to a sob claws out your throat as his cock perfectly hits your g-spot. Over and over and over.
“Please, I need to,” you were a whimpering mess. Charles found it so endearing how hard you would try to wait for his permission.
“Not yet,” You thought you could cry on the spot. Until he yanked you off the table and onto the floor. You now straddling him.
“Rub that pretty pussy all over me baby,” He was leaned up on his two arms, looking at you with an eyebrow cocked and smirk. “Get yourself there.”
You felt yourself immediately working yourself over his cock. His eyes were all over the place. Looking at your face, the bounce of your breasts, and the way he disappears into you. The position driving him much deeper than before and the feeling of your clit brushing against him was too much.
It was like he knew. Knew all the signs that you were there. “Oui, mon amour,” he replied, “let me feel you.”
It was only a few more strokes before you felt yourself cumming all over Charles. The sound of your moans getting choked up as you pulled Charles up closer and pulled his lips to yours.
He quickly rolled over you, pulling out and releasing all over your tank top, some hitting your breasts.
You were exhausted, a limp pile of bones, as you felt him collapse down onto you. Not even caring that his cum was all over you both now. He just wanted to be close to you.
You were smiling hard up at him. Soft laughs were now leaving your mouth, “Guess I should buy a new lamp.”
He scooped you up and carried you to the bed. The bed he couldn’t make it to earlier.
“Unless you want another lamp to break, let’s not bother.”
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