#decency has left the chat

[swampstew]

Choke and die on my dick, kellyanne

#Raven’s rantings #wattpad author #fanfic writing #one piece fanfiction #decency has left the chat #step on a million legos #I hope ants infest your home #I put a curse on you #I hope your pants give you camel toe in front of people #may your sweet tea only ever taste bitter #I hope all your baking comes out undercooked #may you get 3 flat tires at once #I hope you spill your hot beverage all over yourself

[cottonlemonade]

Plan B [part 2]

word count: 1490 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

part 1 for context

____________________________________________

Of course your staff had immediately informed you about the display from the day before when you came in the following morning. The barista even showed you a few snapshots he had taken with his phone and as much as you hated to admit it, you would have loved to have been there to see it in person. Pictures didn’t really do him justice, you thought. “Should I send those to you, manager?”, the barista asked with a knowing smirk. When you didn’t say anything but just stoically walked past him into the kitchen, you were glad when your phone buzzed a few seconds later and a small flood of pictures appeared in your chat. You cleared your throat and got to work.

Despite his regular appearances the last couple of weeks, the guy didn’t show up again the next day. Or even the day after that.

“Maybe he actually finally gave up?”, the waitress suggested with a shrug. She was counting the receipts while the barista helped you clean the espresso maker.

“I hope not. What else are we gonna do for entertainment around here?”

“How about your job.”, you suggested.

The barista let out a theatrical groan, which earned him a dish towel to the face.

At this point, a week had passed since the last time you saw the guy and although you found your thoughts wandering to his handsome smile every so often, you decided it was most likely for the better.

It was late in the evening and the café was closed for the day. The sky was gray and obviously brewing up something unpleasant so you wanted to make sure to send your team home as quickly as possible.

Soon enough, after hugs and waves goodbye, you locked the glass door from the inside and went to the kitchen to prep food for the next day.

You had just started to mash up a bowl of overripe bananas when a soft knocking made you look up and glance through the serving hatch.

The wind outside brushed past the shops with a low whistle and you could make out a very familiar shape in the dim light of the streetlamps.

More excited than you’d like to admit you made your way to the door.

“Sorry, I’m late.”, the guy’s voice was muffled through the glass.

You pointed to the Closed sign with a raised eyebrow. He put his hands together in a silent plea.

With a very big eye roll you grabbed the keys from your apron pocket and opened the door a handwidth.

“Hi.”

“Hey there.”

“I need a cake.”

“Goodbye.”, you closed the door again.

“Please!”, he called.

You shook your head and gestured to your ear to signal you couldn’t hear him.

He thought for a moment, then took out his phone and began to type something. A few seconds later he held the screen up against the glass.

Forgot to get cake for friend’s birthday.

You pulled a notepad from your belt and wrote “unfortunate” in response.

Low rumbling of thunder made you both look to the horizon. A few moments passed in which he threw you puppy dog eyes. You sighed loudly and unlocked the door again.

Not a minute too soon. With the click of the lock the first heavy raindrop hit the windowfront.

“Thank you.”, he said with a grateful smile.

“Don’t mention it. But you will have to live with what’s left of the day. The ones for tomorrow still need to be decorated.”

He followed you to the counter, having the decency to look apologetic as you waved him to come along further to check out the cakes in the fridge.

He chose a white chocolate cake with strawberries and you carried it back to the front to pack it up.

“How has your last week been?”, he asked as you worked.

“Uhm, I made my best cinnamon rolls yet and finally found my TV remote. So pretty good, I’d say. How about you?”

“Not as good as yours apparently. Pretty busy. I had to do some traveling and give a bunch of presentations. Sorry I couldn’t come by to bring up that counter you keep on the blackboard.”

You closed your eyes and made an indefinable noise. You'd have to talk to your staff about the concept of discretion.

“Technically, that means I owe you at least one.”

“Oh, please don’t.”

He swaggered closer and, leaning on the counter, considered you for a moment.

You held his gaze, expecting the worst.

“Wait, I… actually forgot what I wanted to say."

You tried not to smile but were betrayed by your pursed lips.

"Gotta be honest, of all your flirting so far that has been the best one."

He gave you a half smile.

"How about you don't see it as flirting. See it as me just being extra friendly to someone extra beautiful."

You scoffed but couldn’t stop a short sort of giggle escaping your lips.

After a moment’s pause he added, now with genuine sweetness, "Go out with me. Just once. I promise it'll be fun. And really, what's the worst that can happen?"

"Where do I even start?"

"Okay. But besides that, the worst that can happen is that we realize we don't have anything in common."

You looked at him, your head slightly tilted in thought.

"Like, what are you doing tonight after work?", he suggested.

"Well, I’m meeting some friends."

"What will you be doing?”

“A museum has a science night we wanna check out.”

“Oh! Really?”, he asked excitedly, dropping his flirtatious manner completely. And sure enough this little piece of information carried you through the subject of scientific fun facts to books to hobbies and so on. The rain had lessened significantly but an hour later he was still there, sitting on a chair at the kitchen island, talking while you worked, peppering in little compliments here and there but keeping it mostly pleasantly fluffy.

When you eventually parted in front of the café, Kuroo hesitated, obviously thinking about how to say Goodbye. In the end you both settled for slightly awkward smiles and went your separate ways.

He had an extra spring in his step as he arrived at the restaurant, incredibly late but incredibly happy. His friend accepted the cake with a tipsy, somewhat off-key belt of “Happy birthday to me!” and pointed to a free seat next to Kenma.

"Someone's looking chipper.", his former setter commented and accepted a slice of birthday cake, “Why did you leave me here alone?”

“You’re hardly alone, Kenma-kun.”, the older one said vaguely, "I had to pick up the cake first. I only remembered when I was already at work."

"So… is it from that little café?"

Kuroo shrugged, but was unable to hide a grin.

His friend lifted a brow. Originally, Kuroo hadn’t meant to talk about it. About how he didn't expect you two to actually have so much in common, about how funny you were, how smart and how gorgeous you looked even after a long day at work. How you practically made him beg to get into the café at all and how easy it was to talk to you once the ice was broken. It took him a few minutes to finally stop gushing.

"Sounds like a very promising night.", Kenma said approvingly, hoping he’d finally be free of his friend’s whining about why you wouldn’t go out with him, "So you got her number, then."

Kuroo's dreamy expression fell at once. "Oh.”

The sun glistened on the streets still soaked from last night’s rain but the air smelled fresh and you hummed to yourself when you thought about the previous evening. As you unlocked the cafe’s front door you heard someone calling your name and turned around.

Your stomach dropped when you spotted Kuroo on the other side of the road, waiting to cross safely.

“Good morning.”, he said, a little out of breath but with a winning smile.

“Good morning. What brings you by so early?”

“I have a full day today so I wouldn’t be able to come by otherwise.”

You tried hard not to look too pleased.

“I was wondering, if - I mean, I forgot to - Could I have your number?”

Pretending to think about it, you opened the door.

“Do you want that on a to-go cup?”

“That would be easier to brag with.”, he said, nodding thoughtfully and stepping in behind you.

While you prepared his usual, Kuroo watched you closely and you weren’t sure if the pink in his cheeks was from his jog here or something else.

When you handed him his tea a few minutes later he stood there, looking you up and down with his cheeky grin.

You squinted in suspicion.

“You look even cuter than usual today.”

“Get out before I charge you double.”

He lifted the cup and winked. “Talk to you later.”

____________________________________________

#kuroo x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou x chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #hq kuroo #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x you

[lihhelsing]

School Teacher Eddie Munson who at first doesn’t like one of his kid’s parent. This guy always rolls around school with preppy fucking clothes and a big shiny car and it gives Eddie the ick. He’s some sort of big shot lawyer and it’s one of the only dads that comes round school.

He’s always surrounded by the single moms and he flashes them his best smile as they chat away about school things. It annoys the hell out of Eddie and he doesn’t even know why exactly. The guy’s probably just an arrogant asshole anyways.

Eddie’s suspicions seems to be confirmed during a Parents/Teachers meeting. He got in late and this guy - Harrington - was talking, brows creased, expression annoyed. He was saying something about the way the school should be more prepared about something and Eddie rolls his eyes wondering who died and made this guy King of the Parents.

It’s bullshit, but the principal said she’d look into it and Harrington thanked her. He got up 5 min later and left the meeting and all Eddie could think is “what a fucking asshole”.

He waltz in, criticize the school and doesn’t even have the decency of staying the whole meeting. Eddie’s coworker Chrissy elbows him, says the guy’s not that bad and Eddie just has it out for him. Eddie shrugs, whatever. He doesn’t know how this asshole raised such a good kid.

A week later Eddie is standing in the parking lot, watching parents drop off their kids before classes and there he is, Harrington. He’s outside his BMW, sunglasses perched on the top of his head making his floppy hair all funny. He has a serious expression in his face.

Which is ridiculous to Eddie, but he also can’t look away. He’s talking with his kid, Chloe, hand resting protective over her shoulder as she nods and points somewhere else. Eddie’s follow and that’s when he sees what she’s pointing at. A small kid, who’s not in Eddie’s classes. But he knows of this kid. Rough life, absent parents, walks alone to school everyday. He remembers Chrissy saying something about this kid, but can’t quite place what. Eddie watches whatever is happening unfold in front of him. Is the kid giving Chloe a hard time?

Chloe and her dad argue back and forth for a moment more and Eddie can’t look away. For all his assholiness, Harrington is good with her, protective, solid. Eddie can’t really say anything about it, as much as it annoys him. Chloe tugs at his hand and drags him to the kid.

Eddie holds his breath, ready to intervene. If Chloe and this kid, Jordan, are having problems, Harrington should talk to the principal. Parents know that, they aren’t supposed to deal with things on their own, but guess Harrington is too good to follow the rules.

He watches, body tense, as Chloe talks to Jordan and Harrington just hang back a little, eyes locked on them. He’s nervous, Eddie can tell, fidgeting with his hands behind his back, smile tight. Eddie thinks he should step up and asks what’s that all about, but he doesn’t.

After a minute, Chloe looks up at her dad and she smiles and she nods. Eddie let’s out a breath but doesn’t look away. Chloe walks up to him and hugs him as he presses a kiss on her head, she then murmurs something and Jordan steps forward too.

Eddie doesn’t know what he was expecting but it definitely wasn’t that. Jordan takes another step and sheepishly wraps his tiny arms around Harrington who without hesitancy hugs him back. Tight. They stay like that for a moment and Eddie can see it.

The way Jordan finally relaxes on this embrace, a tiny smile growing in his face and Eddie feels like he’s been sucker punched. Harrington takes his time, pats Jordan hair and does the same thing he did with Chloe, kisses his head and only lets go when Jordan do.

When they break the hug, the three of them are smiling. Chloe grabs Jordan hands and pulls him away, towards the school’s door and Harrington yells after them ‘have a good day, kids’. Jordan waves back at him, a full smile on his face now.

Eddie is floored. He doesn’t think he ever saw Jordan smile that big and Harrington keeps watching them until they disappear. He then turn to Eddie and flashes a smile, not the cocky one he usually wears, but a small, shy one. It messes with Eddie’s head.

Eddie raises a hand, uncertain, and Harrington holds his gaze for another moment before putting back his sunglasses and walking to his car. And that is the day Eddie starts to realize Steve Harrington might not be the asshole Eddie thought he were.

Every day after that, Harrington does the same thing. Drops Chloe off, hugs her and kisses her head and opens his arms to let Jordan slip into it. Kisses the kid goodbye as if he were his own. Smiles at Eddie as if it’s some secret they are sharing.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with that. He knew for a fact Harrington was a jackass and now… now he doesn’t know anything. He just know his heart tend to misbehave near him, pounding hard as if trying to tell Eddie something. He has a crush on Harrington, of all people. Fuck.

#steddie #Steve harrington #Eddie Munson #Steve harrington x Eddie Munson #steddie fic #school teacher Eddie Munson #dad steve harrington

[deepouterspacecandy]

Fallout

What if—and stay with me here—you and Abigail Anderson meet after the nuclear war? Thank you for being here and for all the messages and comments so far. It means the world. Violence and sexual themes, my works are 18+ only. All screenshots on my blog are from my personal gameplay.

For the past twenty years, you’ve watched the same tropical fish, electric blue and fire-engine red, gliding across your computer screen in an agonizingly predictable rhythm. It’s only now that you find yourself longing to experience the texture of the water they inhabit.

You know very well that it would not be wise to go outside.

The blinding flashes of light and the thunderous clap of explosions are an acid burn against the labyrinths of your mind. The horrifying sight of the only landscape you’d ever known reduced to rubble while your family scrambled to get you to the safety of the bunker.

Maybe the loneliness has finally caught up with you, or perhaps it’s the relentless glare of the artificial lights slowly eroding your sanity.

But what if, contrary to their warnings, it’s not a desolate wasteland anymore?

As you ponder the enchantments that lie beyond your impermeable tomb, vibrant hues of coral reef and gently swaying anemones taunt you.

“Stupid sea turtles. You probably have twelve eyes by now,” you mumble, your plight only heard by the dust on your bookshelves and a solitary pair of slippers near the entrance to your sleeping quarters.

It’s time to take your daily dose of vitamins and choke down another prepackaged meal that tastes more like chemicals than actual food, and your stomach doesn’t even have the decency to growl. You reluctantly pry yourself away from the evening’s entertainment, your eyes darting to the digital clock above the whiteboard to count down the minutes to your dinner alarm.

On the menu for tonight are three delicious options: chicken and potatoes, beef mac and cheese, or a warm and comforting bowl of sloppy, insipid oatmeal with apple slices that never quite rehydrate as the package promises.

Truth be told, everything tastes like a monotonous heap of nothingness, and you’re tempted to paint the walls with it instead.

Alas, when the clock chimes at you like an insouciant bird suddenly forgetting it hasn’t seen the sun in over a decade, you begrudgingly get up and continue with your daily routines, trapped in the monotony of it all.

Just as you are about to tear open your lavish foil packet of sustenance, a strange, unrecognizable sound echoes from the desk. At first, your heart skips a beat, mistaking the warbling sound for a warning alert, indicating a potential issue with the air ventilation system or some other critical failure in this sterile foxhole you’re forced to call home.

Despite this, as you plod your way across the frigid floor on your brisk return to the computer, you nearly trip over your own feet at what you discover.

It’s a chat box of some kind, from an interface you’ve never seen before.

A: Is anyone out there?

Your eyes strain as you read the unexpected message, the words blurring together until you’re finally jolted out of your trance by a second one.

A: Please tell me I’m not the only one left...

Gripped by the sudden fear that you might have quietly descended into madness, you blink hard, hoping the mirage might disappear so you can go about your riveting night with at least half your marbles intact.

A: God, it’s been so long since I’ve touched anyone, I forget what it feels like.

The chat box flickers impatiently, awaiting your response. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, unable to produce a reply.

This can’t be real.

You spent years curled up by the radio, desperate for human connection, and not a single living creature drifted along those frequencies. The possibility of finding other survivors through the computer disappeared when the population and all its infrastructure vanished into sheets of vapor.

The buzz of florescent bulbs above your head is making it difficult to concentrate. You glance up at the long-abandoned treadmill beckoning you to step aboard to bring some order to your lunacy. You contemplate it until the next message appears and captures your full attention, keeping you firmly planted in your seat.

A: I swear if I have to scarf down another bag of chili mac, I’m going to lose it.

This person knows exactly what you're going through, struck by the same hardships. Finally, your mind and body synchronize, and you regain sensation in your fingertips.

⚡️Does yours come with peppermints? Mine does. They taste like shit, but I’m building a chess set with the ones I can’t bear to eat.

A: Holy fuck.

⚡️I know. I don’t even remember how to play chess.

A: HOLY FUCK!

It’s your first meeting with something other than the lifeless mop tucked away in the cabinet, and you scold yourself for coming across so indifferently. There is still a part of you that remains convinced you are in some sort of dream.

A: I can’t believe it finally worked. Are you for real?

It’s a relevant question, one you’ve battled with for some time now if you’re honest.

⚡️I’ve wondered the same thing lately. Maybe I’m just trapped in a really bad dream, or the air ran out in my bunker and I’m dead as a motherfucker.

A: Seems like a cruel way to spend the afterlife.

⚡️You should try the oatmeal. If there’s a Hell, I’ve got about four hundred packets of it in my pantry.

You take another quick look at the clock, and it's been around five minutes since you last replied. It’s not that you expect this person to read you a bedtime story, but if you're feeling anxious about losing them already, there's no one around to criticize you for it.

A: The one with the apples, right?

Your heart leaps with pure exhilaration. Either your brain is playing tricks on you, reflecting your experience to keep you from bouncing off the walls, or this person is destined to become your closest companion.

⚡️Do they get stuck in your teeth, too?

Your kitchen timer is rattling angrily on the countertop, and you're unable to determine how much time has passed since it started buzzing. The fear inside you grows, convincing you that leaving at this moment would somehow sever the connection. Putting yourself in harm's way is a real possibility when you choose to skip a meal. In response, you decide to sprint there and back, unwilling to take any chances.

A: No, but that’s because I know how to cook them properly.

With a loud clatter, your porcelain bowl lands on the desk, and the sauce immediately oozes onto your mouse pad. An indignant huff escapes your chest as you lick your fingers clean and plop back into your chair, almost losing your balance as it threatens to roll away.

It's possible that you're not as offended as you initially thought, as a slight stinging feeling radiates through your cheeks. How long has it been since you last smiled?

⚡️Hold up, are you saying I don’t know how to cook?

A: Not necessarily. How would you rate your ability to read directions, though?

Giggles slip out of your mouth, catching you off guard. The stark contrast between the gloomy ambiance of the space and the vibrant, hopeful sound is startling. But something warm and playful rises inside you.  

⚡️That’s it. I'm turning off my computer.

A: Please don’t go.

Even though you've never met this person, the desperation in their tone weighs heavily on you.

⚡️Don’t worry, I won’t. I was only kidding.

The response is lightning fast, leaving you no time to acknowledge your meal—steadily cooling and forming an unappetizing skin across the surface.

A: Oh. Okay. Well, good then. I was messing around too... the apples are the fucking worst.

You stare in disbelief at the conversation so far, your mind a chaotic blend of empty thoughts and a flood of words waiting to burst out.

⚡️I knew it. They weren’t any good even before they expired!

A: Do your gardens still work?

It's been forever since you had the chance to look after them. The systems malfunctioned early on and gone were the days of fresh vegetation. You cried yourself to sleep for weeks.

⚡️No gardens.

A: I’m sorry, that blows. Broken, or you never had them to begin with?

⚡️Yeah, the first one. A while ago, now.

Your bowl of goop sits untouched as you reminisce about running your fingers over the lush, waxy leaves.

A: I’ll share my apples with you. Got any books over there?

Regardless of your unwillingness to accept it, your bunker boasts an extensive collection of literature that you have diligently read from cover to cover. Since the universe only gives so much at a time, you jest.

⚡️I hear the postal system is on hiatus. Any chance you were in bumfuck Montana when the world fell apart?

Her answer is so electrifying that it sends shivers racing from your scalp down to your toes and you have to steady your breathing before you can fully absorb the details.

A: Born and raised. I’m Abby, by the way. It’s really nice to meet you.

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby #lesbian #abby anderson #tlou part 2

[abibliophobiaa]

Hi Luna! I hope you're feeling better! I hope you don't mind me asking, but I was wondering if you know what happened to Emmy's (upsidedownwithsteve)'s blog? I was away all day yesterday and when I went to read one of her fics last night, it asked me for a password? If you don't feel comfortable answering this, I totally understand. I would also be happy to come off anon to chat directly if that makes more sense. Anyway, can't wait for the final part of RWYLM and I hope you feel better soon! Xx

She actually just posted something over on AO3, for anyone who was looking and searching (I saw a few people asking yesterday alone). I posted it down below.

It’s unfortunate that people on here are just so nasty. And it’s honestly why you’re seeing the fandom continue to shrink. I don’t really understand what people’s goals are. Other than being mean for the sake of being mean.

You curate your own space, and when you run all the writers off this site, what fandom experience are you going to have left? Think about it.

It makes me not even want to be on this site anymore (I’ve already been limiting my time on, which I’m sure many have noticed). And I’m sure I’m not the only one on here feeling this way as well.

I’d just say check on your favorite authors, because it definitely hurts when one (like Emmy and many others at this point) that we all love gets quite literally run off the site. And I’m sure it also prompts some to reevaluate whether or not this is a safe or fun space anymore.

Especially when this is someone (Emmy) who has always been kind to those around her (myself included), and is running her own business and pregnant. She should be ENJOYING this season, and some people just have literally no sense of decorum or common decency.

Remember that WE ARE ALL HUMANS ON HERE.

KINDNESS is free.

Just some food for thought. 🤍

#luna’s loves #luna’s thoughts #upsidedownwithsteve #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader

[peaches2217]

if you're interested in talking more about it, I'd love to hear more headcannons/musings about mareach expecting/being parents!! everything you've posted has been extremely precious and adorable

I’m in the midst of formulating some second-time parent scenarios, so do look forward to that! But until I’m ready to bite the bullet, fight past my shame, and post those, have some more first-time parent floof: The Big Day edition~

✨ The closer and closer Peach gets to her due date, the less and less Mario sleeps, to the point where in the final week or two before their baby arrives he’s getting maybe thirty minutes to an hour of rest each night, and rarely all at once. Eventually Peach gives up on trying to talk him down herself and gets a bunch of their friends involved in an elaborate plot just so he can get some sleep (which I’ve discussed here 😌). The plot works, and he sleeps for like a solid twenty-six hours! And it ends up being very good timing, because she goes into labor the following day.

✨ Mario’s overseeing preparations for some upcoming festivity (Toads have at least one major holiday each month — party people, they are) when he catches sight of Toadette approaching him. And his stomach lurches into his throat before he can even see her face or she can even get close enough to say anything, because he knows. As her lady-in-waiting and one of her closest friends, Toadette hasn’t left Peach’s side in the past few weeks unless Mario’s been there, and why else would she do so now unless something major was happening? What ensues is exactly the sort of spectacle Toadette had been hoping to avoid: Mario barreling through the crowd, sending Toads flying like bowling pins, abandoning all decency and rationale in a bid to get to Peach as quickly as possible.

✨ As soon as he reaches her, he’s showering her in kisses and inquiring about her mental state and her pain levels and telling her that he loves her so much and he’s going to be right here with her no matter what. Considering she’s been in labor for an hour tops, Peach isn’t even too uncomfortable yet; honestly she’s a lot more collected than her husband at that moment. So she giggles and lets him get it out of his system because she’ll never turn down an opportunity to be lavished in love. Stars know she’ll need that support soon enough.

✨ “Your hero just about caused a national panic,” Toadette snarls twenty minutes later, returning to Peach’s room after joining forces with Toadsworth to calm the understandably alarmed crowds. Peach finds it significantly more amusing than she does.

✨ Daisy’s already there because she was part of Operation: Go the Fuck to Sleep, Mario (“We’re not calling it that,” Peach said. “I’m calling it that,” Daisy said back.), so she insists she may as well make herself useful — Peach could benefit from having a backup buddy in the room in the off-chance Mario completely flips out. And also she wants the bragging rights of being the first of this baby’s many aunts and uncles to meet them, because that’s something she can hold over everyone’s heads for like, ever.

✨ Little-known fact about Peach: she’s got a low pain threshold, and the longer it’s crossed, the more rapidly she loses any semblance of composure. She goes from chatting normally with everyone in the room to seeking out Mario's hand with every contraction to clinging to him like a koala and shaking and moaning in agony, all in the span of like thirty minutes. I can't over-emphasize how dramatic she gets. Which, yes, it's justified, because childbirth's near-universally considered the most painful mammalian experience, but dear God, it's almost comical how quickly she loses her cool.

✨ Mario, of course, doesn't find it comical in the slightest. Seeing her like this is heartbreaking and mentally exhausting. There's not really anything he can do to ease her suffering, and that kills him, but he can't let himself dwell on it because she needs him, and he's gotta be strong for her. So he holds her close and does his best to make her laugh or at least take her mind off of it.

✨ Once that stops working, he starts singing to her, quietly, stroking her hair and pressing little kisses to her cheeks. And that works wonders! Until he starts humming one song in particular. Peach recognizes it as a favorite of his; he sang it to her while she was curled up on the bathroom floor months ago, unknowingly suffering her first bout of morning sickness. It seems like so long ago, and they've come so far, and now here they are — the sentimentality paired with an intense contraction makes her burst into tears. Mario may as well have just been shot. Actually that would probably hurt less.

✨ Daisy tries getting him to take a break, maybe step outside and get some fresh air, because she's never seen him look so distressed and it's honestly starting to worry her. So she makes the suggestion, and she hasn’t seen him look so offended since she desecrated his mother’s sacred Pizza Margherita recipe with thick slices of pineapple. Being at Peach's side is about the only thing he can do for her right now. Leaving her, even for a fraction of a second, would be unforgivable. “Okay,” Daisy relents, “just keep torturing yourself, dude.” He's keeping Peach calm for now, but if that changes, she figures she can just drag him outside herself.

✨ Luckily it never comes to that. As Peach becomes less and less consolable, Mario gets more and more focused... to the point where he gets outright bossy for her sake. He pretty much takes over half of the nurses' jobs, ordering anyone and everyone to get her a glass of water, get him a cold rag so he can wipe away her sweat and cool her off, get her some more pillows so there's less pressure on her back and the base of her spine. Hey, makes their jobs easier.

✨ "You're a badass, Peach Pit!" Daisy says at one point very near the end of the ordeal. "She's right you know," Mario tells Peach. It gets a laugh out of her for the first time in several hours. They absolutely high-five in victory.

✨ Peach immediately goes from inconsolable to overjoyed once their baby's in her arms. "It's okay," she shushes, kissing her still-crying daughter's dark hair, "it's okay, mommy's here. I love you so much." In contrast, Mario completely freezes up. It still hasn't processed yet, the fact that this is their little girl, the same one he's talked and sang and read to for the past several months. In his mind, she's still just a faceless entity, an almost metaphorical representation of his and Peach's love and their hopes for the future, except she's real, and she's always been real, and now she's here, and — and that's a lot to process when you've had one solid night's sleep in the past month.

✨ It doesn't really sink in until a bit later, when Daisy's helping Peach shower and get into fresh clothes and Mario's holding the baby, all swaddled in blankets after passing her health check with flying colors. She looks a lot like him, from her dark hair to the shape of her jaw — she may as well be Mario with a smaller nose — but it's not until she blinks sleepily up at him that it finally hits him. Those are Peach's eyes looking back at him. "Oh," he says, calmly, and then he's crying so hard he can hardly breathe.

✨ That's how Peach finds him when Daisy helps her back into the room: kissing and snuggling their daughter with a big smile and fat tears rolling down his face, babbling "Ti voglio bene! Papà ti vuole tanto bene!" to her softly. She thought she already loved him as much as one person can love another, yet here she is, falling even harder.

✨ As soon as Peach is settled in bed, Daisy rushes to find all of their loved ones so she can gather them up and give them the big news: "I'm already her favorite aunt! So suck it!" (That is, in fact, how everyone finds out it's a girl.)

✨ Peach and Mario are given some privacy to bond with their baby girl and decide whether they want any visitors or whether it would be best to let Peach rest; she holds her new daughter close, and he in turn holds her, full of reverence and praises. Peach has never been so sore and exhausted, yet she's never felt so peaceful. Everything is perfect in her world.

✨ Well, almost everything. "I want to see Toadsworth," she requests, her voice so hoarse from all the bawling and screaming that even those few words make her throat burn. But Mario kisses her gently, lingering for a moment before calling a nurse over to pass on her request, and she relaxes further into his hold with a dreamy sigh. Her husband is with her, their daughter is asleep in her arms, and her father will be here any moment to meet his granddaughter. Now everything is perfect.

#today was difficult so this is even longer and more shameless than usual #y'all were warned #like… I might delete this later if I’m being honest 😅 even I should have to reign it in now and again #and until then… #tw pregnancy #mareach #mario x peach #peaches has opinions

[choke-me-joey]

31, JQ 👀

31. That's so fucking hot, say it again.

Joseph Quinn x Reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it lads), creampie, mentions of anal, drunk/tipsy but consensual sex, swearing, filth tbh, rpf (don't like, don't read!)

Hoe-vember masterlist

"Meet me in the bathroom in 5 minutes, okay, handsome?" You whisper in your boyfriend's ear, subtly nibbling on his lobe.

Joe nearly chokes on his drink, causing a few people to look over at him concerned. The Stranger Things release party was not the time or the place for you to be talking dirty like this, especially not in that dress.

But you couldn't help yourself. The drinks were flowing and he looked far too good in that damn shirt and jacket. And you were in Brazil, for fucks sake, why not be exotic?!

You flash him a filthy smirk, kiss his cheek and saunter off to the bathroom, casting a glance over your shoulder before you leave the room to check he was following you. He shoots you a wink, placing his drink down and casually making his way over to Jamie for a quick chat so it didn't look suspicious that you two had both left the room at the same time.

Your pussy clenches in excitement as you make your way into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. A few minutes later, Joe's signature knock has you throwing open the door and grabbing him by the collar, pulling him into a fiery kiss.

Joe kicks the door shut behind him, and clumsily fumbles with the lock whilst trying to not break the kiss with you. As you hear the satisfying click, you push him up against the door, his back hitting the wood and he lets out a groan against your mouth.

"Fucking hell, Y/N, what's gotten into you?!"

"I'm hoping you'll get into me, actually," you smirk, biting your lip as your eyes rake over him. He groans as you cup him through his pants. "Want you to send me back to that party with your cum leaking out of my pussy."

Joe's eyes widen and his brow furrows in arousal, his mouth hanging open and his cock twitching in your hand.

"That's so fucking hot, say it again." He begs as you flick open the button on his pants, unzip and reach into his boxers, wrapping your hand around his already achingly hard cock. You begin to pump him slowly, making his head thump back against the door.

"I said, I want you to send me back to the party with all your cast mates and crew members with your cum leaking out of my pussy, Joe." Your voice is low and seductive as you look at him through your lashes.

"You're gonna be the death of me. Bend over that sink, babe." Joe practically growls at you, grabbing both your hands and spinning you so they are behind your back. He walks you up to the sink, pressing a large hand on your back gently to push you into position. As one of his hands holds your wrists together, the other snakes down and pushes your dress up over your ass. You watch him in the mirror, hissing as he teasingly pings the string of your g-string underwear. "Was there any point in wearing this?"

"Gotta keep some decency, Quinn." You grin at him in the mirror. He cocks an eyebrow, staring you dead in the eyes as he snaps the flimsy material and rips it clean off you. "Joe!"

"Oops," he flashes you that trademark goofy smirk that makes you weak in the knees and pockets the destroyed garment. "That's what you get for being a tease, making me sneak off to fuck you in a bloody toilet..." You watch him push his pants and underwear down and pull out his cock, giving himself a few tugs as his eyes rake over your exposed pussy and ass. You bite your lip as he drags his cock over your folds, lubing himself up with your arousal.

"Fuck, Joe, babe, please-!" You yelp, your begging brought to a swift stop as he pushes inside you. The lack of prep means a little burn as the thick mushroom head of his cock splits you apart, but it still makes your eyes roll back in your head as he gives you no time to adjust, setting a fast, rough rhythm that makes your walls flutter around him.

"Haven't got time to be nice tonight babe," Joe grunts. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Want me to fill you up, yeah?"

"Y-yes, fuck, Joe, please, wanna feel you cum in me!"

"Need you to cum first, okay?" His hand dips in front of you, fingers immediately finding your clit and he begins to rub it in tiny, frantic circles.

It's not long before you're crying out his name, your legs almost giving out as your orgasm washes over you. Joe lets out a string of curses as your pussy clamps down on him, and its not long before his hips are stuttering, slamming into you one more time as he empties himself inside you with a broken moan against your back to try and muffle his voice. You can feel his cock twitching as he paints your walls and it sends a shiver up your spine.

"Shit, I bloody love you." Joe lets out a breathless chuckle against your clammy skin and then places a few more sloppy kisses along your shoulder blades before pulling out.

"Mm, love you too," you mumble, drowsy from your intense orgasm. Joe can't help but think how good you look bent over the sink, dress hiked up and his load trickling out of you. He resists the urge to snap a sneaky picture on his phone for those lonely nights on his upcoming press tour.

"Hey, come on now babe, weren't you talking a big game about going back out there earlier?" Joe chuckles, tucking himself back in his pants and doing up his belt. He pulls you off the counter and spins you round to face him, and kisses you softly before adjusting your dress for you. "What was it...with my cum leaking out of your pussy, right?"

"Shh," you kiss him softly. "Go get me another drink and maybe my pussy won't be the only thing you can fill later."

"God I love you." Joe grins back at you, "Martini, right?"

"Filthy, babe."

#joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #kats hoevember event #joseph quinn x y/n

[stardewstardropthoughts]

Ilysm but unfortunately I have some angst, sorryyyyy. Would you do how the Bachelors would react to the farmer maybe ghosting them? It could have a happy ending, though. (I live to torture myself with angst 😳) Tyyyy

I love you too which is why I apologize in advance for this lmao cause it’s all hurt no comfort I’m sorry! I love angst so much, maybe I’ll do another version when I have more energy with a happy ending!

You ghost the bachelors

Elliott:

He doesn’t have many people who support him to begin with, so when you came around and spent so much time with him? He was thrilled

He often awaited for when you would step into his beach house for your daily visit, often carrying little gifts for him, once a bouquet

But now, he holds the wilted bouquet you had asked Leah to give to him for you, a note attached that simply says who it’s from. No reason attached

His heart is breaking as he closes his front door, an apologetic look from Leah the last thing he sees before he’s on the floor, back to the door sobbing into his hands

He had loved you so much, with such a raging passion and zero regard for anyone else, why had you suddenly decided he wasn’t enough?

Why didn’t you come and explain your reasonings yourself instead of sending someone else in your place?

He tried to find you, to talk to you but it was as if you were avoiding his every attempt, turning around and leaving if you saw him at the saloon, avoiding the beach unless absolutely necessary to see willy

He couldn’t fathom what he had done so wrong for you to treat him this way, needles to say he isn’t going to be jumping headfirst into any relationship any time soon

Shane:

How could you do this to my man, my love, my sweet sad chicken man?

He always thought it was to good to be true, that someone as beautiful and vibrant as you would waltz into his life and make his days infinitely better even when he tried to push you away in the beginning

You stayed by his side on some of his darkest days, he could hardly believe when you gave him a bouquet

Now it’s like the world is crashing down around him, the withered bouquet in his hands, you had taped it to his door, not even facing him in person to deliver the blow

He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t really happening, that you wouldn’t just ghost him like this

But then you were avoiding him around town, no longer stopping on his way to work to chat

You wouldn’t answer the door when he would go to the farm to see you, wouldn’t visit marnies shop if you knew he would be home

He had a mermaid pendent in his bedside drawer that he had intended on giving to you on your three year anniversary which had been just a few days later

Spends a lot of his nights sobbing in bed because you broke his heart

Good luck to anyone else who tries to build a relationship with him because now he’s more guarded then before

His days were finally full of color and laughter when you were around, but now it’s a dark grey sea and he feels like he’s drowning all over again

Alex:

He had been out talking to rusty when you had snuck into his house and left the wilted bouquet on his bed, a note attached that said who it was from

Found the wilted bouquet when he had gone in to get some lifting done for the day, he’s never experienced a panic attack prior but he certainly is now

The note has no explanation as to why you’ve decided to tear his heart to shreds like this, and not even with the decency to do it face to face

Goes straight to the farm to ask why you’ve done this, but you aren’t there. Robin who was building you a coop at the time said you were in the mines, but Alex can see the lights on in the farmhouse

You don’t answer the door when he knocks, he scribbles a little note down and slips it under the door, asking what he did and if he can fix it

He never gets an answer, spends the rest of his night to sad in bed to even think about weight lifting

Once again throws all his focus into becoming a professional gridby player, no time for friends or relationships, he needs the distraction so he doesn’t just sit around and cry about you all day

You were the first person he ever thought he could love romantically, after watching his parent’s relationship fall apart he hadn’t believed in love but you changed that

And now he doesn’t believe again

Sam:

Mans a whole golden retriever energy baby why would you do this

Everything was going great in the relationship with you, or so he thought

Because if it was actually going as well as he had thought, he wouldn’t be looking at the wilted bouquet sitting atop his guitar with nothing but your name scribbled on this little note

His eyes are filling with tears immediately, trying to think of anything he might have said or done to upset you recently

Trying to think about why you hadn’t done this in person, why hadn’t you given a reason

Writes you a letter asking why and what was happening, why hadn’t you said something sooner if you were unhappy

You never respond, it seems as if you’ve made yourself disappear all together to him

Your never home when he try’s to visit, you don’t go to the saloon on Friday nights anymore, his friends don’t know what happened either because you don’t talk about him to them

He’s so sad and he doesn’t know what he’s done, he just wanted to be the best he could be for you but now he can’t even do that

Sebastian:

He found the wilted bouquet on his motorcycle one evening when he was going to go for a drive to the cliffs that overlook zuzu city

He had wanted to bring you with him but from what he’s gathered from the evidence in front of him, your not going to be going

He doesn’t really blame you, he knows he’s probably not the best you can do but that doesn’t make it sting any less

Rides out to the cliffs where he can have a nice little breakdown in private

He does want answers though, so he spends almost two weeks trying to track you down, to no avail

It’s almost like your avoiding him on purpose, you never visit robins shop if you know he’s home, don’t visit sams when you know they have practice, you avoid him at all the festivals

He’s hurt, it took a lot of convincing for him to open up to you and now you’ve gone and closed yourself off from him

Lays awake a lot contemplating what could have gone wrong, but he never does get an answer about it

Harvey:

Man, stepping out of his office for a quick breather and having Maru hand him a box addressed from you was a surprise

You don’t often leave packages for him, he takes it back with him and is shocked and saddened to see it’s a wilted bouquet with no explanation as to why you’ve decided to do this

Underneath it is all the little gifts he’s given you over the course of your relationship together

His hands are shaking as he sets it down, he doesn’t understand what’s gone wrong

Closes his office for the rest of the day and sulks in his apartment, tries to call you but you don’t answer

You avoid your annual check up that you had scheduled for a few days later, calling Maru and telling her you’d be in grumpleton then so you’d just have the check up there

He can never seen to catch you when your out and about either to try and get an answer as to why you’ve broken his heart with such little regard for his feelings

He’s had a hard time opening up to people and small talk makes him quite nervous so it had taken so long to break down his walls and then you’ve just abandoned him?

He spends weeks trying to pick apart every interaction you’ve had, trying to figure out where it could have gone wrong, what he could have done to prevent this outcome

In the end he’s left with no answers and a hold in his heart where his love for you use to consume and keep him warm

#stardew fanfic #stardew valley #stardew farmer #stardew x reader #stardew headcanon #stardew elliott #stardew harvey #stardew sam #stardew sebastian #stardew alex #stardew shane #Stardew angst #angst #hurt/no comfort #sdv bachelors #sdv x farmer #sdv angst

[mysticmindsartisticlives]

19 Days: Chapter 423

I feel like this chapter followed the slice-of-life theme from that official beach art. It was so fun and yet had SO many interactions happening at once! We'll start with Momo's invitation:

The elypses in his speech and the absence of any eye contact expressed Mo's uncertainty in his own suggestion. He was likely embarrassed and a little shy to present his vulnerable desire for companionship so plainly in front of his friends.

By their looks of astonishment, JianTianXi were caught way off guard lol Zheng Xi has the decency to call his mama and give her the 411 on his evening plans, while Tian and Yi immediately jump into nuisance mode.

Just look at the annoyed expression He Tian dons during this entire exchange. He really thought they’d continue where they left off that one night he gifted Lil Mo the earrings. Boy had some dirty deeds in mind, ya hear?

They head to the market for some fresh ingredients, and in true fashion, Jian Yi embraces gold-digging 101. Thankfully, Xixi scolds him - probably because he knows they can't just throw everything on He Tian's tab now. I love how Xixi keeps Yi in check. Sometimes, I feel that he just loves to see his big baby pout for him.

Meanwhile, we've got lost puppy Tian about to get sweet-talked into spending his rent money on a whole fish. Guan Shan can't take his eye off this one for a second.

They finally get their groceries and are heading back to the crib, when titties enter the chat. I mean...

Gah!! Damn!!! Daddy! 🥵 I'm with Mo on this one

I 100% believe Momo was still squinting at them milkshakes lol

Qiu titties aside, I was not expecting Papa Qiu in this chapter 🤗 Look how happy he made the babes! My heart is so full after this chapter 🥰🥰🥰

#19 days #he tian #mo guan shan #jian yi #zhan zheng xi #tianshan #zhanyi #brother qiu

[leviathans-watching]

if it isn't too much to request, could we get a more gender neutral thing with the MC being on their period? i'm on mine right now and it's been hard to find comfort writing that isn't for female readers which ESPECIALLY sucks because im. well. Not A Girl dhwhs

AH but of course you don't have to if you feel like it's too repetitive!!!

mc on their period

includes: the bothers x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .6k | rated g | m.list

a/n: i'm sorry you're feeling this way!! i know it's a little late but i hope it helps next time it rolls around or just in general haha. thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoy!! my inbox is open to chat, req, or leave feedback so come say hello <33

warnings: vague and brief mentions of dysphoria

please like and reblog hehe

burying your face in your arms you groan, slumping down.

“what ever is the matter?” lucifer asks, and you lift up your head a little to look at him. he’s got his finger marking where he left off reading and his gaze is steady on you.

“i’m just not having a super great time right now,” you reply, semi-honestly. “life sucks.”

opposite you, belphie nods. asmo smacks him on the shoulder.

“i’m sorry you feel that way,” asmo says, a pout forming. “is it something in particular? you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“yeah,” satan agrees. “and if there’s anything we can do for you, please let us know. we’d be happy to help.”

you smile a little, touched. “thanks, guys. it’s just, you know, that time of the month so i’m extra moody.”

everyone softens slightly at that, familiar now with your feelings about your period and all of the complicated feelings that usually arise along with it.

“that sucks,” mammon says, normally brash tone quieter. “i know in the past chocolate and stuff has helped, do ya want any of that?”

“theoretically, yes,” you sigh. “but i’m not even close to hungry. sometimes my appetite gets screwed up.”

“so that’s why you didn’t eat much for lunch,” beel says, and mammon snorts.

“of course that’s what you’d notice.”

cutting off the potential squabble, lucifer speaks once more. “i’m very sorry you’re feeling like this. i know you don’t feel your best during menstruation but we’re all willing to do whatever you need. and if you want us to just drop the subject and not bring it up again right now, we’re more than willing to do that too.”

looking around at all of their stupidly sincere and kind expressions makes you know that what lucifer’s saying is the truth. the boys rarely agree on anything, but when it comes to you and your wellbeing, you’ve found their thinking aligns more often than not. you bury your face in your arms once more and bite your cheek.

“uh, mc?” levi says after a moment, and you hear a soft thud, followed by a quiet ‘ow’. asmo could probably reach him too.

“i’m okay,” you say. “just trying to get a handle on these stupid emotions i suddenly have. thank you, lucifer. i really appreciate it. and i’m okay with talking about it, but it was kind of you to check my boundaries.”

“of course,” lucifer replies, and a soft touch lands on your shoulder. beel, probably, since he was on that side of you. “kindness has nothing to do with it, though. it’s just basic decency.”

“that’s true.” you huff out a laugh, sitting up fully once more. beel’s hand- you’d assumed correctly -shifts but doesn't fall. you lean into the touch slightly. “but still, thank you.”

“think nothing of it,” satan cuts in. “i also wanted to add that if we ever do or say anything, not only about this, that is invalidating or insensitive to please let us know. i know i, and probably everyone here just wants to respect and love you in the way you deserve.”

“you’re all doing a great job of that, so don’t worry,” you say. “i’d say something if you weren’t, but again, thank you.”

stupid respectful boys who make your heart feel like it’s going to burst.

getting your period really sucks but at least you have them.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

#obey me #obey me game #obey me shall we date #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #levi obey me #satan obey me #asmo obey me #beel obey me #belphie obey me #lucifer x you #mammon x you #levi x you #asmo x you #satan x you #beel x you #belphie x you #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #levi x reader #asmo x reader #beel x reader #belphie x reader #anon ask #answered asks #leviswriting #leviswriting-obeyme

[disaster-biraven]

The Lazarus Problem Chapter 2

Jasonette Ch1 Ch2(you are here) Ch3 Ch4

Ao3 Dedicated to @girl-in-thechair

Ever since the world had witnessed the final battle between Hawkmoth and the Parisian heroes, Wonderwomen had been adamant that they needed to find and recruit Ladybug and Chat Noir. She had even made a presentation on what the miraculous was and why having them on the side of the Justice League was a need and not a want. So Batman had been tasked with finding them, and although he is the best detective, there had been no lead. Their magic did an amazing job of concealing any leads, and he was certain Ladybug had left Paris. Hippolyta, a former Ladybug holder had said it was likely the heroes moved on to the next big unbalance, but mentioned there was a chance they had retired the miraculouses.

Now there was an unknown Meta in Gotham, and the only thing that is known about her is her ability to turn invisible. After everyone had finished up at the docks, an irate Red Hood had debriefed the family on the unknown girl. Batman decided to delegate the task of finding her to Red Hood and Red Robin, as he thought he found a lead on who Chat Noir was. This led to a sleep-deprived Tim staring blankly at a file, while Jason used Barbara’s surveillance system to see if he could figure out any leads on the Meta’s location or identity. Tim closed the file and turned to Jason.

“Hey, did you check the list of people who recently moved here? There’s a chance she’s from somewhere else.” He sipped out of his coffee cup which came from seemingly nowhere. Jason didn’t question it, and the idea had more merit than staring at video footage.

“Ok, I’ll start at three weeks and go up from there,” Tim replaced his empty mug with another one. “Tim, what the hell.”

“If you tell Alfred, I’ll mention why you hung up all that artwork in your room.” Jason thought about all those bullet holes he hadn’t gotten around to fixing yet. “Deal. Asshole.”

The list of people finally loaded, and he started to rule out suspects based on height and other factors. While skimming the names and pictures, he felt the blood drain from his face. Tim noticed and shook his shoulder. His partner in crime from his time on the streets was staring back at him. Marinette, who for the last decade he thought was dead, had moved back to Gotham. A search revealed that soon after he had been taken in by Bruce, she had been adopted by a couple in France.

“Do you know her? She was a street kid from Gotham.” Tim still looked a little concerned but didn’t hold back from questioning Jason.

“Tim, not every street kid knew each other. But yeah, we were close. I thought she was dead, I never thought to look her up though.” Did she think he died too? Technically he did. Maybe she looked him up and found his obituary.

“She lived in France, maybe she could help in the Ladybug and Chat Noir case. Everyone but her and some guy got akumatized in her class.” Tim started looking closer at how she was related to past akumas while Jason was spiraling on how to reconnect with her. ~~

Marinette works at a fabric store part-time, and Jason wants nothing more than to run into her. But he has to case to solve and needs to focus. Tim has the decency to not mention her again, keeping the conversation from the others. But Jason knows Tim thinks he should go see her.

On top of continuous surveillance around the city, and going through a list of suspects, there isn’t much more to do than keep an eye peeled during patrol. The lack of any leads drives Jason insane, but it still seemed to go better than Batman’s investigation. The trail had gone cold on the possibility of finding Chat Noir’s identity, the magic was stronger than ever. Dick claims he once walked in on Bruce banging his head against the desk and slowly backed out of there.

Jason caught a break in the form of a brief sighting near the Wayne Tower and changed his patrol to overlap with that area. Tim wasn’t able to join him as he was still on bed rest from a surprise attack from Damian over the last slice of pie.

“Congratulations, Demon Spawn you just volunteered yourself as my patrol partner, seeing as you took out my first one.” Jason ignored his protests and finished suiting up. ~~

Shit shit shit. The Meta dodged his fist and kicked him in the face. Fuck.

“What is your motive here in Gotham, Villain?”

Robin’s question caused her to pause. She hesitantly put up her weapon? Flute?

“I am here in Gotham to help restore the balance, but if I say how you may not believe me.”

“Try me.” Jason really hoped her way of restoring the balance wasn’t to blow something up.

“I know both of you have been in the Lazarus pits. And I can help.”

Robin’s face twisted as he lunged toward, almost stabbing the Fox Meta.

“Were you sent by my mother? Who are you? Stop moving away from my sword!”

“Okay, Robin that’s enough. Let’s hear her out before we try and impale her.”

She seemed to appreciate that. ~~

Jason relayed what the Meta he now knew as Lyca told him to Tim. They were all hesitant to believe her, as she could have ulterior motives. She agreed to meet them in a few days with Batman so he could get a feel for the mysterious girl. Jason didn’t want to get his hopes up on the possibility of actually having a cure for the pit madness. If he were to reconnect with Marinette, it would be better if he wasn’t affected. She didn’t deserve to have to deal with his anger, especially since he looked into what she had to deal with in Paris. After dealing with an emotional terrorist she shouldn’t have to deal with an unbalanced vigilante. He’d have to get the nerve to go see her anyway, which looked unlikely. He hated feeling like a coward.

#maribat #marinette dupain cheng #mlb x dc #fanfic #jason todd #jasonette #childhood friends to lovers

[opinated-user]

To some of who may doubt about the accounts. Think about this. Which is easier to explain.

Of all those 2000+ images over a five year period. Some elaborate troll just, at best, 40-50 images a day picking the worst artists and pics imaginable. With just the right material, it looks convincing enough to be Lily. All while waiting for the account to be discovered. Sure that sounds like a plan, but then why have no activity and then the activity resumes?

Or…

Lily doing what lily does. Uses names/aliases that fall into her pattern makes an account and slowly fills it with stuff she gets off on. And like a republic with their porn, denies any of the sexual material that is in it. Wait for the chatter to die down and finally when it’s safe go back and get her rocks off again. And to make matters very interesting it’s filled with stuff she so vocally against. Anime characters from Dragon Maid, incest, Nazis. Gee it’s almost like Lily is doing all that screaming so that it covers up what she’s really into

i still have yet to see a single reason as to why those accounts couldn't be LO. i heard some "i don't know if those are hers", but i haven't even found one person who was able to argue why it couldn't be? it's because it's disgusting? all the tara chat logs are disgusting. all of stockholm was disgusting. everything she writes is gross and makes me feel ill the more i think about it. violate is the most egregious example of that and that turned out to be LO taking the trauma of Courtney to make it into her own. why do we keep acting as if LO has any limits? any moral? any decency left? why do we keep assuming that she'd be a good enough person to not enjoy that content, when everything she has done show that she's not like that?

#lily orchard

[redux-iterum]

Burning Hearts: Chapter Fifteen

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Greystripe and Ravenwing did not speak to each other for the next several days. Fireheart had to juggle his interactions with them, keeping Ravenwing company for half the night and then chatting with awkward, unstable cheeriness with Greystripe when he returned home. Fireheart worked valiantly under the (perhaps not entirely unfounded) paranoid worry that every single eye in ThunderClan was on him and his friends, watching with curiosity as Greystripe and Ravenwing gave each other a wide berth and slept on opposite ends of the warriors’ den. No one said anything, but their puzzlement was palpable.

It got to the point that one night, Bluestar called Fireheart into her den to speak privately. When they were alone, she said, “Your friends are troubled by something, it’s very obvious. What happened between them?”

Fireheart fought not to squirm as he tried to find a way to not rat Greystripe out while telling the truth. “Well, um, they had a big argument over… over RiverClan.”

Bluestar blinked, then narrowed her thoughtful eyes. “Ravenwing doesn’t agree with sending them prey, I assume.”

“He doesn’t.” Fireheart sighed and bowed his head. “The fight got really personal, so they’re just not talking.”

Bluestar’s voice, unusually gentle, made him look up again. “I know this is upsetting for you. Don’t blame yourself for it, and don’t try to fix it for them. They can talk when they’re ready. If it gets worse, I will speak to them. Don’t make this your task, no matter how close you are with them.”

Fireheart nodded as his mentor’s words pulled a bit of a stony weight off his back. He took a moment to properly absorb them, keep them in the back of his mind to remind him where his position was in this painful situation. He privately pleaded to StarClan for it to resolve itself before Bluestar stepped in.

It didn’t quite improve as the month went on. Greystripe at least had the decency to look guilty when Ravenwing hurried past him or avoided eye contact, but he made no effort to apologize or even greet him with a single word. Ravenwing’s anxiety kept him from saying anything himself. Fireheart supposed he ought to say something, but…

“Fireheart?”

He looked to his left as he stepped out of camp to see an uncharacteristically nervous Greystripe trotting towards him.

“Hey, there you are,” Greystripe said hurriedly, his attempt to sound casual as sturdy as a dead leaf. “I was going to ask, uh– do you want to hunt? Just ThunderClan prey tonight, RiverClan’s doing fine.”

Fireheart swiveled an ear to make sure they were alone before leaning his head forward and whispering, “Silverstream’s busy, isn’t she?”

“Wh– no, no—” Greystripe stood straight with a violent jerk upright. “I just– I can hunt with my friend, can’t I?”

Fireheart gave him a look.

Greystripe sighed. “She told me to stay away for a bit to let our scents fade.”

“Thank you for being honest.” Fireheart walked past him, tapping his chest with his tail. “Come on, it’s been a while. Tigerclaw said to hunt near the Sycamore for a bit.”

Greystripe stuttered out some gratitudes before following after him.

The Sycamore was rather close to camp—only a short walk in the opposite direction of the camp entrance. When they reached it, Fireheart gazed up as far back as he could tilt his head, marveling silently at its height. Most of its leaves had fallen off, leaving the pale branches to scratch at the sky with long, crooked claws. The very top of the tree reminded Fireheart of a human’s hand, its stretched toes straining to catch a star.

“If this place has the most sacred cats buried here,” he asked Greystripe, “does it feel a little weird to you to hunt prey around this tree?”

Greystripe snorted. “It’s not like the prey has the souls of these cats, Fireheart. If anything, they’d encourage us to catch them.”

“I hope so.” Fireheart looked around, sniffing.

Mouse. Somewhere close by. He lowered his body into a half-crouch and took a few steps to his right, testing the direction of the scent-trail.

“Uh—” Greystripe cleared his throat. “Actually, hold on a moment.”

Fireheart blinked and stood up straight. “What’s up?”

It was interesting, how much a stone-colored tower of stark stripes and long fur could emulate a tiny kit about to be scolded by his parents. His head turned back and forth anxiously as his front feet kneaded the ground like he wanted to run and was trying to sate his paws by stepping in place. Even his broad, hard-cheeked face was weirdly youthful, his eyes big and darting side-to-side, as if seeking an exit. Fireheart waited patiently until he spoke.

“Listen,” Greystripe started unsteadily. “About Silverstream, and Ravenwing—”

He stopped, like he was expecting an interruption. Fireheart didn’t give him one; he just stood and looked up at his friend, head slightly tilted.

Greystripe worked his jaw and then continued. “It’s messed up, I know. I should talk to Ravenwing.“

“You should apologize to him,” Fireheart said, faintly surprised by the edge in his voice.

“I know… but—”

Fireheart didn’t hesitate to cut him off this time, and he didn’t bother to hide his stern anger. “There is no ‘but’. You said some incredibly cruel things. You already know how sensitive he is, and you did it anyway just to get him to go away.”

Greystripe almost looked grateful for the chance to go on the defensive. “Hey, he was yelling at me for something I can’t help!” His voice muted a little. “You don’t know what Silverstream means to me. You’ve never been in this situation before, you wouldn’t get it.”

Fireheart’s chest suddenly blazed with frustration, and for once, he was having a hard time controlling it. He focused his eyes skyward, away from Greystripe, and inhaled a deep, calming breath, forcibly blowing the fire out. Unfortunately, that frustration had a few sparks left, and they latched onto his next words.

“Honestly, Greystripe?” he said, almost too conversationally for the heat coming out of his mouth. “I don’t know if I care.”

Greystripe stared at him, his expression between outraged and shocked.

 “Maybe I haven’t felt love like that, and maybe I never will…” Fireheart met his eyes and focused hard on not blinking. “But you know, I don’t think I’d let that change how I talk to my friends. To cats that are just looking out for me and making sure I don’t make a mistake.”

Greystripe bristled. “She is not a mistake!”

“You breaking the law is,” Fireheart said coolly.

“Since when did you care about the code?” Greystripe snapped. “You know how often you got in trouble as an apprentice? How you helped me with RiverClan before Bluestar allowed it?”

Fireheart blinked slowly, passive-aggressive in its friendliness. “At the very least, I would say my decisions led to cats being saved.”

“Ohhh, big savior, you,” Greystripe said sarcastically. “Well, my decisions have led to me being happy. I’m just hanging out with someone I care about. I’m not talking with stupid kittypets and refusing to fight to protect my Clan.”

Fireheart twitched his whiskers in grim amusement. “You know, when you immediately jump to being hurtful to get someone to leave you alone, that says something about the validity of your argument.”

Greystripe opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Fireheart cocked his head, a half-challenge that Greystripe didn’t meet. Instead, he just turned and stalked away, disappearing into the underbrush in a very similar fashion to Ravenwing, albeit much noisier.

Fireheart sighed deeply, trying to shoo all the tension and anger out of his body. It left him trembling a little. He waited until he was a bit steadier before walking back for camp, his hunting trip forgotten. The walk was longer, his feet slow and a little wobbly. He didn’t bother catching anything.

He re-entered camp, only for a squeal to make him jump. Before he could look, a weight barreled into him, making him stumble to the side. His alarm passed as soon as he got a look at his assailant: a fluffy dark golden-brown kitten with dark blue eyes that was frowning at him.

“You were s’posed to fall over,” the little tom said.

Fireheart purred. “I’m sorry. You can tackle me again, if you like.”

“You will do no such thing.” Frostfur approached and extended a graceful paw to pull the kitten back. “It’s rude to attack your Clanmates.”

Fireheart blinked, the brightened up considerably, standing straighter. “Oh! Are all your kits out now?”

“They are.” Frostfur swept with her long tail, gesturing to a cluster of various shades of gold and white wrestling in a pile. “I’m sure you’d like to meet them.”

“I would!” Fireheart beamed, then looked at Frostfur nervously. “They’re safe outside now, right?”

To his surprise, Frostfur’s eyes were bright with amusement. “Yes, they’re safe. This one is Thornkit.”

“H’lo,” Thornkit said, his thin tail wagging. He puffed out his white chest.

Fireheart dipped his head to the little tom. “Hello. I’m Fireheart.”

Thornkit blinked owlishly. He looked up at his much taller mother. “Can I go play?”

Frostfur lifted her long, feathery-furred leg. “Be nice to your Clanmates.”

Thornkit didn’t bother to respond, just waddle-ran at the now splitting pile of kittens. Fireheart could pick them out separately; one was a lighter golden-brown than Thornkit, but with white feet and a tail-tip, another was white all over, and the last was vibrantly patched with white and a gingery-gold.

“Who are the rest?” Fireheart asked Frostfur.

Frostfur pointed to each one separately. “The lighter tom is Brackenkit, the white one is Snowkit, and their sister is Brightkit.”

A trill escaped Fireheart’s throat. “They’re all adorable.”

“They better be,” Frostfur said, with a rare warmth. “That’s the only way they can get away with being little beasts when I’m trying to sleep.”

Fireheart chuffed. He didn’t comment aloud, but aside from color, Thornkit looked every bit like his father. Even Snowkit, who was smaller than the others, had Lionface’s mane already growing out.

That reminded him.

“So…” He looked up at Frostfur again. “Did Snowkit’s hearing come in?”

Frostfur sighed through her nose, her ears turning back. “No. I think he’s deaf for life.”

“Oh, no,” Fireheart said before he could think. He rushed to add, “I mean, not that– well– I just imagine it’ll be hard to talk to him, right?”

“Among other things,” Frostfur replied unhappily, paused, then quietly continued, “He hasn’t said a single word, and all of his siblings can talk easily. I’m… a little worried that he won’t even be able to leave camp without someone to watch him if he grows up.”

Fireheart nodded sympathetically.

Frostfur was silent for a moment before adding, even quieter than before, “There’s just too much out there that can hurt him, you know? He’d just have to not notice a fox, or turn his back on the road…”

Silence for a long moment between them as they watched the kits. Thornkit was doing his best to corral his exuberant siblings, who kept getting away from him. Brackenkit ran in circles to greet every cat he caught sight of, while Brightkit bit at Snowkit’s tail and tried swatting at him. Snowkit’s eyes, a paler blue than the rest of them, were wide with wonder and excitement as he turned in place, staring at everything around him, flopping onto his back haunches a few times. He didn’t even look like he noticed his sister’s antagonizing.

“Well…” Fireheart turned to Frostfur now. “I think he’ll be okay. He’s got a whole Clan to keep him safe, doesn’t he?”

Frostfur’s eyes slid over to him, somewhere between wary and hopeful. He gave her a firm, supportive nod and her body relaxed a little.

“I appreciate that,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

Fireheart blinked at her encouragingly before returning to watching her litter.

“Said ‘come back’!” Thornkit was shouting, running clumsily after Brightkit.

Brightkit stuck her tongue out at him and continued on her way, which was heading straight for the ferns by the meeting stump.

“We can’t go there!” Thornkit tried to put on the speed and just tripped over his front feet, rolling and tumbling. “Brightkit!”

Brightkit squeaked triumphantly just as Cinderpaw was pushing her way out of the fern patch. Fireheart didn’t have a chance to warn Cinderpaw before the patched kitten barreled into her.

Frostfur stood up in alarm, but Cinderpaw took the hit easily. She looked down at Brightkit, who was sitting up from the collision, before wriggling her haunches and tackling the kit back. The pair rolled around in a ball of fur and playful yowls.

“By a crow’s eye, fool girl!” Yellowfang rasped, hobbling after her. “You’re on seer business, not queen duty!”

“I’m allowed to play with my Clanmates!” Cinderpaw called back, pretending to be pinned by Brightkit. “It builds character!”

Yellowfang made a noise between a grumbling growl and a heavy sigh. She squinted one eye at Fireheart, gesturing with a paw at her apprentice with an air of ‘Can you believe this rot?’.

Fireheart didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “Let them play. It’s fine.”

“Ach, you’re useless.” Yellowfang shook her head, croaking at Cinderpaw, “And you acted like the world ends tomorrow just a moment ago. Does StarClan speak to you through that lump?”

Fireheart glanced at Frostfur, whose eyes narrowed.

“Fine, fine,” Cinderpaw sighed dramatically. “Let me up, Brighty.”

Brightkit obeyed immediately—perhaps, judging by the nervous look she gave Yellowfang, that was no surprise. Cinderpaw got up and licked the kitten's forehead before trotting back to her mentor, her own fur sticking out in all directions and covered in sand.

“Did she already meet Brightkit before I got here?” Fireheart asked Frostfur.

“Both of them did,” Frostfur replied. “They visited me after the kits were born to tell me their story.”

Fireheart tilted his head. “Sorry?”

“Oh! That’s a really cool thing!” Cinderpaw said suddenly, darting over to Fireheart just as she reached Yellowfang. “Yeah, when kits are born, seers visit and tell the mother what they see in the kits’ futures!”

Yellowfang rolled her bugged-out eyes and limped over. “Trade secret, you dolt. Now don’t you go telling him what we saw.”

“Sorry!” Cinderpaw bobbed her head at her mentor. “It’s just such a cool thing to do!”

“That is cool,” Fireheart agreed, eyes wide in amazement. No matter how many times he was told about it, seers being able to read the future still blew his mind. Such an incredible ability, given to cats like squat and grumpy Yellowfang, and overly-energetic Cinderpaw…

He realized something and asked Yellowfang, “Hey, maybe you can check on what happens to them now? At least maybe Snowkit?” His eyes darted to Frostfur, worried he’d upset her, but she looked interested in this idea too, leaning forward a little.

“It’ll have to wait, boy.” Yellowfang jerked her head her apprentice’s way. “The fuzzy idiot here wants to go back to the road.”

“Oh,” Fireheart said, deflating a little in worry. “Are you still having those dreams, Cinderpaw?”

“And that dumb feeling,” Cinderpaw grumbled. She looked back at the scattered kits before leaning in and whispering, “And we’ve both gotten new visions about something else!”

“Girl!” Yellowfang said sharply.

Cinderpaw waved her tail at her mentor. “He can hear about it.”

“Seer business isn’t warrior business,” Yellowfang growled. “Especially when we know not what we see.”

Frostfur opened her mouth, but then looked past them and stood up. “Brightkit! Stop that! Come here!” She looked at the other cats, adding, “I’ll leave you to it,” before loping off towards her kits, who were wrestling and squealing.

“Fireheart can keep a secret,” Cinderpaw insisted. “He already knows about the road thing.”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me,” Fireheart said quickly. “I mean, I am curious, but…”

Yellowfang scowled between him and Cinderpaw before scoffing and flicking a paw. “Go on.”

Cinderpaw immediately closed in on Fireheart’s personal space, whispering conspiratorially, “So we both saw it twice so far—there’s this puddle, and Bluestar’s reflection is in it, right? But it keeps rippling, like wind’s blowing on it or something, until you can’t even see her face really. And we both smelled the road at the same time before we woke up!”

An immediate feeling of something cold and gut-twisting hit Fireheart’s stomach without him understanding why. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Haven’t a proper clue yet,” Yellowfang muttered as she walked past him. “But never do I see a leader without something grave about to happen.”

Fireheart didn’t say anything. His throat clenched.

“We’re going to the road now to see for ourselves,” Cinderpaw added. “If something bad comes up, we can tell you later.”

Fireheart nodded, trying to ease himself back down to cheeriness. “Good luck out there.”

“Later!” Cinderpaw said, completely oblivious to whatever Yellowfang was squinting at Fireheart’s face for. She bounced past him and trotted out of camp, tail high.

Yellowfang was close enough to swat Fireheart with her tail. “Chin up. We’ll find something yet. This isn’t your problem.”

Fireheart nodded again. Yellowfang didn’t look satisfied, but she turned with a snorting sniff and hobbled out after her apprentice.

Fireheart sighed and turned back to watch the kits be scolded by their mother. The cold in his belly set there, just chilly enough to refuse to let him focus on anything else.

Why Bluestar’s reflection? Why ripples?

Whatever the answer was, Fireheart was sure he wasn’t going to like it.

#warrior cats #redux iterum #iterum #chapter #chapter fifteen #book two #arc one #burning hearts

[whatawonderfulexistence--blog]

Band of Sisters, Band of Thieves (Medieval Powerwolf x Fem!Princess! Reader) - Part I

Summary: 5 daughters of the King find themselves falling for one of the members of a talented band of mercenaries. Their stories intertwine as they embark on a journey of self discovery and finding true love through every challenge they face.

WARNINGS: Mention of character death, slight descriptions of stabbing someone with a sword

Part II

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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

You sat with your hands folded neatly in your lap, posture as straight as you could possibly muster in the chair at your mother’s side. Your father chatted jovially with the leader of his most infamous band of mercenaries, The Wolfborne Company. You caught his gaze, a flirtatious smile passing over his lips as your eyes met his. "I'd be more than honored to escort the Princess to her meeting with the Duke. It's the least I could do after all the hospitality you've shown us, Your Grace." You aggressively stabbed into one of the vegetables that sat on your plate.

“(Y/N), what has gotten into you?” Your mother whispers harshly at your antics. You sucked in a deep breath as you struggled to regain your composure. He always managed to get under your skin, you loathed the fact he could get such a reaction out of you.

“Excuse me.” You loudly push your chair back from the table, hurrying out of the dining hall. You couldn’t keep the scowl off your face at the sound of him chuckling, undoubtedly at your disgusted appearance. It wasn’t that you had a particular disdain for the Wolfborne Company, it was just their commander. Attila Dorn was one of the most boorish, insolent brutes you had ever met. You huffed angrily, fussing with your skirts in an attempt to get them out of the way of your feet. "He is being absolutely ridiculous, I am the last person to need an escort." You spit out the word like it left a bitter taste in your mouth. You huff, collapsing onto the stone bench you had stumbled across in the garden.

"Sounds to me like it could be a pretty dangerous journey, Princess." Your scowl darkened at the sound of his voice. "Wouldn't want the King's eldest to get into trouble meeting a potential suitor, now would we?" You didn't even want to give him the satisfaction of glancing in his direction.

"I would be just fine going to visit the Duke on my own, thank you very much." You cross your arms over your chest. He chuckles, a sound that makes your blood boil. You reluctantly look up at him as he steps into your direct line of sight. "Surely one of your men has a greater sense of decency than you, I should be going with one of them at the very least." He breathes out a laugh, an unamused look on his face as he stares down at you.

"Just be ready to go by dawn, Your Majesty." It was impossible to ignore the mocking tone in his voice as he stated your title, giving you a pathetic bow before stomping off. Your eyes trailed after him as he left, only until your attention was caught by the sound of laughter deeper in the garden. You let out an amused sigh, playfully rolling your eyes as you recognized it was one of your sisters laughing. You stood, not wanting to interrupt whatever she could possibly be up to. Well, that was your intent at least. Before you had a chance to exit the gardens she stumbled into view, Matthew Greywolf of Attila's band of mercenaries in tow. The two had been seeing each other in secret for quite some time now. They both froze when they saw you, matching wide eyed stares adorned their features. You held a finger to your lips, letting her know you'd keep quiet about what you had seen. You turned and headed back towards the castle, you had a trip to prepare for. You sat in your chambers, struggling to make a selection on which gowns you would like to bring with you for your visit to the Duke.

"Is everything alright, Miss? You seem a bit down." One of your handmaid's asks, perching herself at your side.

"Yes Charlotte, I'm quite alright, they're both just so beautiful I don't know which one to pick." You feign a laugh to amuse her. She went back to assisting you in your choices, leaving you to sit and ponder. If you were being entirely honest, you felt a bit bored by the whole situation. The Duke should have been everything you could ever want; a man of status, someone who could easily take care of you, someone who would be there to assist you in taking over for your father once he had passed on. The Duke wasn't a terrible man by any means, either. He was kind, charming, and handsome. The perfect husband for the Princess. The only issue was the fact that your heart simply didn't belong to him. He was a smart match, you understood that better than anyone. It was your duty to uphold the values and expectations of a kingdom that would one day be yours. But you couldn't shake the memory of the wide eyed little girl sitting at your mother's vanity, her telling you stories of charming princes and adventures in far off lands. Stories about falling in love with a person made exactly for you. Marrying for love never seemed like a feasible option for you. You had been studying and training to become the head of the royal household for as long as you could remember, but you would be lying if you said it didn't hurt to let go of the dream you had as a little girl. Once your handmaids had finished loading up your trunk you dismissed them for the evening, wanting to turn in since you had to get an early start the next morning.

You groaned as one of your handmaids pushed open the curtains, the first light of day just beginning to break over the horizon. "Good morning Miss." She greets you with a smile. You return her greeting, stretching before dropping your feet to the cold wooden floor. She helped you dress, making sure every tie, clasp, and button was done up properly before you headed down to meet Sir Attila and your coachman.

"Good morning, Your Highness." Your coachman bows politely before offering you his hand to help you into the carriage. Attila was already seated inside. He offered you no greeting, just his usual bored expression.

"Sir Attila, good morning." You tried your best to sound cordial.

"I'm surprised, I thought you'd be throwing a tantrum in front of your father about me escorting you." He states with a smug grin. You roll your eyes, turning your attention out the window.

"A lady doesn't throw tantrums." You snip. "If my father believes you're the best man to get me to and from my visit with the Duke safely I have to trust his judgment." You fold your arms over your chest. The carriage lurched a bit as you set off, a tension hanging between the two of you as you sat in an uncomfortable silence. You watched the trees lazily roll by out the window, every so often getting caught up by the sight of birds dancing through the air.

"I apologize for addressing you so rudely, Princess." He mutters, never glancing in your direction. You had to stop the smile that attempted to creep across your lips.

"You're forgiven." You would be traveling for about three days. You were a bit shocked when the carriage stopped and Attila offered his hand to help you out. "Thank you." You say softly, your eyes locking with his as you carefully take the step down. You rested on a nearby rock as you watched him quickly set up camp. Being a mercenary definitely had its benefits in this situation, your tents were set up and a fire was going rather quickly. You kept to yourself, enjoying the stillness of the night air, the shrill chirps of crickets surrounding you. You jumped slightly at the feeling of someone nudging your shoulder.

"You should eat, we still have a lot of traveling ahead." He holds out a bowl of some type of porridge. "I know this is probably insufficient compared to your usual supper, but it'll keep your strength up." You take it from him, your fingers brushing over his gloved ones. He stood by your side for a moment, a silent presence you were grateful for. Ever since the process of finding a suitor had started you had felt more alone than ever. You had your four younger sisters, of course. But they could never understand the kind of pressure you were under. You heard Attila shift, signaling he was about to head back to the fire.

"Attila," he didn't respond, but the silence that followed told you he was listening. "Would you sit with me… just for a little while longer?"

"Of course, Your Highness." He sounded a bit shocked by your request. He sits with his back to yours, both of you quietly eating your meals. "I think it's really admirable how serious you are about being next in line for the throne."

You chuckle, "I'm sorry, did the great Commander Attila just give me a compliment?" You hear him return your laugh. You found yourself smiling, lazily stirring the porridge in your bowl. "Attila?" He grunts. "You can call me by my first name if you'd like." You mutter softly.

"I think it's best if we don't muddy the waters, Your Highness." You're cut off by the sound of your horses getting startled and running off. Attila sensing that something was wrong immediately went on guard. "Stay behind me." You stood, pressing yourself as close to him as possible. He was alerted by the sound of a snapping branch, "get down!" He grabs you, forcing you to duck down by shielding your body with his. An arrow whizzing by was heard overhead followed by the struggled gasp of your coachmen. Attila draws his broadsword, commanding you to sit behind the rock. "If you see anyone you scream. I will be here to protect you, I promise." Before your very eyes, gone was the bumbling brute you were used to seeing around the castle. Commander Dorn now stood before you, just as strong and focused as the stories you had heard of his triumphs on the battlefield. His eyes darted up before he rushed forward, the sound of metal clanging together not far behind you. Your hands shook, your tight corset only adding to your fear ridden anxious breathing, jumping at every potential darting shadow. Your eyes widened as you watched a man emerge from the brush, flail in hand and a malicious smirk on his face.

"Attila!" You cried out for him. Faster than you could comprehend he was in front of you, expertly deflecting the man's attack with a single blow. He grabbed the man by his chest plate, yanking him forward and sending his sword straight into his side. The man collapsed on the ground without a sound, Attila stood in the middle of the clearing breathing heavily. You both perked up at the sound of a much larger group closing in quickly.

He grabs your arm, hoisting you from the ground. "Run." He pulls you in the direction of the trees. You hurried to gather up your skirts, trying your hardest not to trip over the fabric or the roots jutting from the ground. Pure terror wracked through your body, the pure adrenaline the only thing keeping you moving. You were trying your best to listen, hoping you would have lost the group by now, but they were still trailing you through the forest. You almost collapsed as the realization crossed your mind, the sound was growing closer.

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

Tag List: @ramblingoak @belnovacaine @iamsarahsaysso @kissingghouls @mustluvecho @copiousloverofcopia @jumpcauseimfroggy @littlegirlsdontplaynice @rabidghoul @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @moss-the-moth @i-fondued @jennmakesitweird @gothdaddyissues @angellayercake @angel-layer-cake @vampghoulette (I think I got everyone if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!)

#powerwolf fan fiction #powerwolf x reader #powerwolf band #powerwolf #powerwolf smut #powerwolf fluff #falk maria schlegel powerwolf #attila dorn #matthew greywolf #charles greywolf #roel van helden #medieval au #knights au #x reader #fluff and smut #my writing #attila dorn x reader #attila dorn fan fiction #attila dorn fan fic #attila dorn powerwolf #attila dorn fluff #attila dorn x reader fluff #princess!reader #fantasy au #royalty au #fem!reader #powerwolf x reader fluff #powerwolf fan fic

[burningtacozombie]

I've vented about this before but I have to, again, because I genuinely don't think there's any hope left for fandom. people keep reaching new lows. every time you think this is the lowest... they find a way to get even lower, more awful, more cruel. there is no respect, no decency, no humanity to be found anymore.

this delusional cult cannot and does not want to hear that Dan and Tina are not an item, let alone accept it. they insult everyone who says anything against it, they throw temper tantrums like 5-year olds who don't get their will, they distort things said in interviews that were never meant that way so it fits into their little world, and don't get me started on the AI photos/videos and fanfictions they create and treat as if it was reality.

but now that Dan actually does have a new girlfriend it's the worst it's ever been since this whole mess started 5 years ago. they found her on social media and ever since analyze every inch of every post for clues where she is or if she's with him only to actually insult her, both of them really, in ways I'm not even going to repeat here. a couple days ago things went from worse to horrible when fake accounts on instagram started popping up, posting tons of AI nude photos of his girlfriend and tagging them both in all of it, and while Dan since then doesn't allow tagging at all anymore I've been wondering all this time how he manages to stay quiet and calm about it. until yesterday. yesterday he's finally had enough, he spoke up in his chat group. and it was loud!!!

I am very glad and so proud that he finally gave them a piece of his mind. but immediately after the cult went on and on how he has humiliated Tina with what he said, but they also blame him for not putting an end to it sooner, when he was asked about her on the radio interview a few weeks ago. (which, correct me if I'm wrong, would in their logic humiliate her even more publicly). however which way you spin it, they blame him, he's the bad guy. when he says nothing and is a gentleman who doesn't want to say anything bad it's his fault but when he eventually speaks up because he and his family are being tortured it's also his fault. the names he's been called the past 18 hours for simply wanting his privacy respected and to live his life are nothing short of inhumane, which also makes me think that if these people think like that about him, why would they even want him with her? what is the point here?

he only opens his chat group for everyone to write in for annoucements or special occasions and when tensions rose again last night, he wished everyone a good night via voice message and closed the group directly after so I wasn't fast enough to reply anymore but also didn't want to just leave it like that. I wanted him to know that not everyone out there is insane, that there are actual fans who love and support him so I texted him privately. which he saw, and liked.

and then came today, where pretty much every media outlet has picked up the "news" and keeps making it a big story. the man is literally begging for everyone to just leave him be, let him live and breathe but now even the mainstream media is like… "lol, no".

sure, we see behavior like this from both "fans" and the press all the time, many celebrities are treated like crap and if it were anyone else I wouldn't care so much. but it's not. and I do. how does this behavior seem normal to people, how does anyone think this is acceptable? if it were the fans' lives being invaded like this, how would they feel? but what, because someone is famous, they don't have a right to their own life, their privacy and to be with whoever it is they want to be with?

it is incredibly infuriating and from the bottom of my heart, I feel so so bad for Dan, his new girlfriend, and his family.

#not tagging this madness

[lunasilvis]

I'm sure it's the final consequence of things accumilating over this past year and that's understandable, because yes - I am realizing now I have asked too much of you, took up more space than I should, and I'm sorry for appearing selfish - I will take some time to think over how my actions led to your reaction and will try to learn from that. Thank you. But if I may have room to say anything for myself through here: I wish you had communicated this to me sooner. Instead of through an unexpected blow-up, then raising a wall straight after where now my hands are tied and I can't react. Sorry, I apparently failed to read between the lines at times. Clear communication about your total and unchangeable romantic disinterest would had helped me get over this faster and in a much more effective way, honestly. Thank you for telling me now, my heart already feels calmer now that I know.

It's less visible, but know I have put in work too, through the years to show repent and help build a safe friendship. To come forward and offer explanation, but never expecting or desiring to rekindle. That'd be up to you, and then it became a choice we both made. I'm sorry for coming over in march, probably shouldn't had written to you then after, and I realize now I shouldn't had and let it go. But I thought I could discuss it and the aftermath without judgement. Please don't dismiss me, reduce me to something terrible in your head now that I'm not, and have absolutely worked so fucking hard for to outgrow and heal. If I still am that to you and it has made only minimal or fickle progress, then yes, we cannot be friends, because that is both your but also my old wound reverberating.

I'm sorry if that is your experience, but claiming I perceive you as a voodoo doll - when I have been so busy working through my feelings, and succeeding for the major part (sadly not always in the desired lineair motion, but regardless most of that has been worked through) is cold. I must have mistaken an anonymous text I received a week ago for yours, that's what I meant when I said I mistook some signals. Someone claiming to be you, and calling me 'yours'. That threw me off in a way, and was why I texted you last week. I'm mature and have sufficient self-respect not to transform any grain of platonic interaction into some supposedly misinterpreted romantic interest. But these words are not light in my eyes and I believe they shouldn't be cheap words one just tosses around, so it wrongly struck me as suggestive.

I'm sorry, but will grant you any time and space now. I don't think I deserve being left like this after your word blitzkrieg when I thought it was important to process something, but against our history I'll understand. I won't take up your time or reach out to you, won't search for contact, I respect your decision and I will adhere to your wish to stay away. But if any day in the future you somehow feel enough time has passed – know I'm willing to have an open chat, no expectations, and perhaps be your friend again if that's what is or feels right.

Thank you for everything, the lengths we've gone to keep a beautifully odd friendship. The lengths you've gone through, I never demanded any of your labor deliberately, but will always appreciate and think of you with a calm heart and good thoughts (as your friend, I have no concealed interests whatsoever and have never had them. I hope you do know I have adult decency and respect). I let you call for 3 hours because I care about you as a friend, I let you ventilate your heart because I wanted you to know you have someone who truly cares. Not for my own gain.

All the best and healing your way, as I will have mine too. I hope till someday again, whether that's as friends or just to have the chance to have an equal conversation and to properly talk this out, whether in summer or again in a decade. Whenever you're ready, but it's okay if that day won't come. I'm determined then to make peace with that for myself. I have enough love, patience and respect for you to not cross any lines and to stay in your past if that's truly where our friendship seems to belong for you. But may you ever feel safe enough and ready again, know I'm here.

#personal #Also if it's really that easy for you to toss me out like this - then I think I can be okay with it too #It shouldn't have to be so fucking heavy. but it's okay that it is. I'll let you go now