#the barking writer

[silverskye13]

In which there is the ringing of bells

#the barking writer #redstone and skulk #tanguish #helsknight #flipside #hels!fwip #yes i made a helsmet for fwip sometimes you just need more NPCs okay #anyway this chapter was very fun <3

[macabr3-barbi3]

dream a little dream (of me) - chapter 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54459367/chapters/140496796

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

You were bound to break a term of the deal eventually, right?

we've hit chapter 3! I got a huge influx of people interested and loving this story and I finally got the inspiration and drive to bang the next chapter out for everyone 🤭 there's going to be more coming, I do as the brain commands lol

A big shoutout to @fraugwinska for being like my number 1 hype person on this fic, you are a godsend 💕

And for those who asked to be tagged when the new chapter went up! @spottypug @dennsfz @bishiglomper @ivebeenthearchersstuff

Same tags as chapter 1/2 plus a couple new ones: Dream Sex, Dreamsharing, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Rough Sex, Dreamwalking, blowjobs, 'punishment' wink wink, minor injuries, let me know if I missed anything lol

I love comments and feedback, I would love to know what you think ❤️ enjoy!

The shock on Husk’s face at seeing you inside Alastor’s room when the door flies open a few days after the camping trip is matched only by yours- the horror you’re sure is written in your expression at the pool of blood accumulating under Alastor’s body where Angel Dust is supporting him with an arm around his waist, a smoking gash across his middle.

“The fuck are you doing in here?”

“What the fuck happened?”

You speak at the same time, voices overlapping as Husk shoves the door to the room further open to make room for Angel to drag Alastor inside. He’s also coated in blood down one side, likely having been supporting Alastor’s weight from the other side to drag him up the stairs.

Alastor’s eyes are clenched shut, smile more like a grimace as he snarls at Angel Dust trying to get his feet underneath himself. “I do not need any assistance, spider, release me-”

“Sure, Smiles, tell me all about it. Ya can’t even fuckin’ stand up without ya gangly ass legs collapsin’, how else were we supposed to get ya here?” Angel has also just noticed your presence in the room as you rush over, pleased smirk taking over his features. “I fuckin’ told you there was somethin’ goin’ on with them, Husk!”

“Shut the hell up, Angel,” Husk mutters, grabbing Alastor by the ankles and helping the other demon get him to the bed, despite Alastor fighting like a wild cat the whole time. You follow closely, hovering anxiously next to the mattress. They drop him unceremoniously, causing him to hiss in pain before the wound starts gushing again. “You,” Husk says, fluffy finger pointed in your face. “You stay here with him. Make sure he doesn’t fuckin’ bleed out or anything. Angel, you go tell Charlie and Vaggie what happened. I’ll get the med kit.”

“Wait, Husk” you say as he and Angel both step away, and there’s a hard grip on your wrist from Alastor when you start to follow them. “Just one sec,” you tell the demon- a great idea, with how known he was for his patience and understanding- and pull out of his grasp, hurrying after the other two. You catch Husk at the door, Angel taking off to find Charlie. “What happened to him?”

“Got into it with Vox, what else? Those fuckin’ overlord meetings are just trouble waitin’ to happen if you ask me, never would’ve caught my ass at one of them.” He runs a frustrated hand down his face. “We couldn’t get much out of his besides that, figured it would be best to get him to his room before anyone else saw him stumblin’ around the lobby.”

“Fuck.” You glance over at him, splayed across the mattress, an arm over his eyes. “Can’t he heal on his own? I thought regeneration was all the rage down here.”

“He’s been fucked since that battle with Adam- angelic steel right to the chest, did something to his body and he doesn’t heal as quick anymore. Some stitches should get him right for at least a little while.” A dark eye watches you from Husk’s peripheral. “I don’t know what you’re doing gettin’ all buddy-buddy with him but you watch yourself. We’re not all fuckin’ stupid- somethin’s up, we saw the goddamn vampire bite on your neck after camping-”

“Are there vampires in Hell?”

“Not the goddamn point. The point is be careful and don’t fuck anyone else over in the process of whatever the hell you two’re doing.” He points back into the bedroom. “Now go stand guard or whatever you do until I can stitch him up.” Husk is off then, jogging in the opposite direction that Angel had gone. You leave the door unlocked and cracked so he can get back in when he returns and go back to Alastor’s side in the bed.

His face is sweaty, eyes still clenched shut in pain, but one of his ears perks back up when he hears you come closer. “Pay no mind to those idiots,” he mutters. “I will be perfectly fine in a matter of hours. Do not let them back in.” He waves a hand lazily, the door slamming shut with a bang.

“Yeah the smoking hole in your chest gives me a lot of confidence to that. I’m not going to stop them from helping you.” You hesitate only a second before reaching out to his shirt buttons. “Let me- you’ll need this off for Husk to stitch you up.” He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you undo the buttons and slide the shirt sideways as carefully as possible to clear some space for the cat to work. You brush against his ribs and there’s a sharp inhale, Alastor’s nostrils flaring and claws digging into the sheets.

There’s a knock at the door and when you move to go open it there’s again a hand wrapped around your wrist. “Stay,” Alastor says, looking like it pains him to say it. A strip of shadow darts across the room to open the door in your stead, Husk coming back through the frame and raising an eyebrow at the sight of you still seated beside the demon.

“Charlie and Vaggie know what happened and will check on you tomorrow. Angel went to shower. Let’s get this fuckin’ over with.” He settles on the other side of you, and Alastor releases his grip on your hand to clench them into the bedsheets as Husk starts to drag the needle through his skin.

A good bit of swear words and a loosely wrapped bandage later, Alastor is patched up and passed out on his mattress. “Where did you learn to do stitches?”

“I don’t know, not really. Winged it. Just knew he wouldn’ want anyone else to see him like he is now. Vulnerable; weak. Benefit to him to have me under his thumb, I can’t run my fuckin’ mouth or use it against him.” He eyes you. “I assume you have no problem stayin’ to monitor him? With the stitches he should be good to go by mornin’ but you’ll want to watch him through the night.”

You could revive your old sleep habits and keep awake through one evening. “Yeah, I can stay. And Husk, it’s really not what you’re thinking-”

“Don’t care. Not my business. Make sure he doesn’t die- who fuckin’ knows what happens to my soul if that happens.” Husk gathers his materials and leaves the room, making sure to close and lock the door behind him.

You wander the room for a while trying to find a way to entertain yourself. He only has a couple books in the room- ones you’ve already read before- and despite your interest in the bayou dimension you don’t want to wander too far away from him. Eventually you pick a book and drag the armchair over to the bed, settling in and keeping an eye on the movements of his chest. He seems to be doing well, despite being weak and injured, no blood yet seeping through the bandages on his chest.

You do so well for a while without getting tired before the siren song of sleep starts to pull at your eyelids. You combat it as best you can- you pace the room, do push ups and jumping jacks, try counting backwards from one thousand. It doesn’t help, and you find yourself curled up in the armchair next to the bed, eyes drifting shut and not opening again.

When the world of Alastor’s dreams comes to fruition, you’re once again just in his bedroom, the only difference being a slightly darker tone to the light. His eyebrows raise when he sees you. “Well! Fancy meeting you here, darling.”

“I’m sorry, I was trying to stay awake out there to keep an eye on you-”

He waves you down. “No worries, dear. I told you before the stitches that I would be fine, that remains true. I cannot fault you for falling asleep on duty when you’ve not been accustomed to staying awake during the evenings any longer.”

A sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I was-”

“Ah ah ah,” he interrupts, and with a shifting shadow he stands before you, trailing a finger down your throat. “That is not to say that I’m not upset with you for something else.” He circles you, eyes lidded and smile teasing. “Need I remind you again of the terms of our deal?”

“What?” Something slips around your wrist, almost like the feeling of Alastor’s fingers but softer, and you glance down to see one of his shadows. His meaning dawns on you. “Wait, Alastor, I didn’t- I’m not here on purpose, I-”

“Ahhh but that wasn’t a condition, was it? It is only allowed with my permission , dear, and I must say I can’t recall giving that to you!” Another shadow wraps itself around your thighs, buckling your legs and bringing you to your knees; he runs a hand gently along the top of your head, tipping your head up to meet his gaze. “I’m afraid discipline is in order.” With a wave of his finger Alastor’s armchair is behind him, settling into it as his tentacles make themselves at home across your body, holding you in place where you now sit on your knees, Alastor’s hand still cupped under your chin. “I think a spanking will do.”

Your body jerks where you’re held. “I’m not a child.”

“This may seem a bit tame,” he admits, expression pensive, “but sometimes the classics can be rather effective! Here’s the plan-” The tentacles shift, bending you at the waist so your chin rests nearly on Alastor’s knee. “You’ve done rather well so far so I won’t be cruel . I think ten strikes should be sufficient. You’ll count them aloud, and should you miss one we will start over. How does that sound fair?”

“Alastor-”

The first strike is over your clothing, Alastor cocking his head when you try to move away from the faint sting of it. “Surely you know how to count, dearest.” Your clothes seem to melt off your body, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the chill in the air. When you don’t respond he sighs, his smile almost condescending. “Oh well; I suppose it can’t be helped. We begin again.”

The tentacle strikes again, a sharp snap that has you hissing through your teeth. Not knowing what else you can do, you decide to just submit- how bad can ten simple swats with a tentacle really hurt? “One,” you mutter, and Alastor’s eyes light up now that you’re willing to play his game.

He cups his hand around the back of your head, and you tilt into his palm. “Perfect. Good girl. Go ahead.”

A gentle whoosh through the air, and another blow to the soft skin of your ass. “T- two,” you say, gritting your teeth against the vague ache. It’s not terribly painful; it’s more the humiliation of it than anything else, but not being able to see it coming contributes to the sting. “Fuck!” Another that you didn’t anticipate. “Three.”

Alastor uses the light pressure of his hand to tilt your head to meet his eyes. “Perhaps I’m just old fashioned,” he says softly, “but I don’t believe ‘fuck’ is a number. Start again.”

You feel the sting of frustrated tears. “Alastor, please.”

He brushes them away with a claw. “Come now, darling, no need for that. You can count to ten, can’t you? Why, it’s easy as can be and then we can be done with this business.”

So he makes you start again- and now for a third time when you can’t stop the whine in your throat from distorting the ‘eight’ into a broken groan. The spanks hadn’t been really painful before but as the punishment continued and the same spots were struck over and over you had become sore, and every new blow stung and ached like nothing else.

And yet- maybe its the position, or the utter helplessness of what’s happening with Alastor in control but there’s that familiar burn in your core, slick arousal from your cunt slipping down your thighs and out of sight of the demon before you.

Your eyes had drifted closed at some point, neck eventually losing the strength to hold itself up and pressing into the fabric of Alastor’s trousers. When he makes a curious humming noise you let your lashes flutter back open. His eyes are dark, pupils blown and his smile dangerous as he looks down at you with lidded eyes. “You know, if you’re having such trouble counting I may have a better use for that lovely mouth of yours, darling.” A brief respite from the tentacles, at least, as he repositions you with his hands to bring your face to the erection that’s grown in his lap. “This isn’t my punishment, after all; I don’t see why I should have to suffer now. How’s this- I’ll count for you, and you keep your mouth otherwise occupied, hm?”

You don’t bother trying to speak, instead just nodding in his gentle hold. He smiles, a little softer then, another quietly uttered “good girl” before he’s undoing his pants and pulling his cock out, presenting it to you and slowly guiding it into your waiting mouth.

He’s not demanding about it, lets you take your time in getting your lips wrapped around the head, fingers brushing delicately through your hair. The position isn’t perfect, and not having use of your hands is a bit of a nuisance but you can move your head enough to take some of his length into the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. You swipe your tongue along what you can reach of the underside of him and he hisses above you, pulling you back with a soft fisting of your hair until you can only reach the tip.

“We’ll continue now, my dear. Be mindful of your teeth, please.” And he slides back in with a simultaneous strike of one of the tentacles. “One.”

Somehow the childish punishment is easier to take with Alastor’s cock in your mouth. You still jerk in the hold of the tentacles when you’re hit, but your whimpers and cries of pain are muffled, the vibrations of it serving a greater purpose now in bringing Alastor pleasure. You make it to seven before a particular hard spank jolts you forward, prick shoving harder into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. The constriction that happens when you inadvertently gag a bit makes a harsh moan tumble out of Alastor’s mouth, his fingers tightening their grip in your hair. “Fuck-”

You pull off enough to speak, lips brushing the tip as you do. “Thought ‘fuck’ wasn’t a number.”

“Wretched, delightful thing,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “You raise a valid point, but I think we’ve drawn this out long enough- you’ve learned your lesson?” A nod from you, lips once again covering him and tongue swirling around the head. “Lovely,” he sighs. “Then we’ll make this last bit quick.”

He shifts forward in the armchair, enough that he’s now fully inside of your mouth and each lazy thrust of his hips bumps the back of your throat. He gives himself time to savor the feeling of you sucking and licking at him, throat constricting each time he bottoms out, in between swats from the tentacles. “Eight. Nine. Ten.” Your hands are released from their restraints, and rather than bringing them to your throbbing clit like you desperately want to, cunt drenched and ready for something more, you instead bring them to Alastor’s lap, repositioning yourself to better choke on his length. You let your teary eyes drift up to his face, his eyes lidded where he stares down at you, smile tight and tense. “Wonderfully done, sweetheart. I need only a moment more- may I?” He fists his hands in your hair on either side of your head and you let your mouth go slack, allowing him to thrust in and back out at his own leisure.

You can feel under your hands the flexing of the muscles in his forearm and wish that he would take off his goddamn shirt- get undressed in one of these dreams, just something so you weren’t the only one exposed and vulnerable.

“Magic in dreams doesn’t count, I rather think; it seems that you can do it as well.”

You think about what Alastor had said while camping- how your pants had simply vanished with a thought, the mere desire. You’d never really tried much with your dream powers. You just showed up and tried not to be spotted whenever you were in one, or got the information you were looking for and left. It hadn’t occurred to you until Alastor had said something that you might be able to do more , to use the power for something else.

So while Alastor grows more desperate in his race to completion, fucking your mouth with renewed fervor, you concentrate on the buttons of his shirt. You don’t want to alert him to what you’re trying to do- he’d probably take offense to the fact that you aren’t as wholly engrossed in letting him use your mouth as he likes, might even start the whole punishment over again after he came. So you let your vocal chords do as they please while he ruts into the hole you’ve provided for him, soft moans and whimpers to distract him a bit.

The top button twists, and slowly, silently, pulls itself from the hole it was fastened into. A slight shift of your eyes and the second one follows.

The mere possibilities of what you could do with this information makes you moan, long and low and vibrating hard around Alastor’s cock. Already close, the sensation makes him buck his hips hard, spewing curses as he spends himself in the warm and wet heat of your mouth. You’ve hardly had a chance to swallow- the taste and feeling not awful but just a little strange- before he’s yanking you up from the floor, pulling you into his lap and crushing his lips to yours. His hands come to rest on your thighs, traveling slowly upwards until he meets the welts that his tentacles have left on your skin. You hiss into his mouth at the sting of it, and he kisses you gently while massaging the sensitive skin. You distract yourself with popping another button on his shirt, a motion that goes unnoticed by Alastor in favor of switching between kissing you and watching your face while he touches you.

The rush of it eventually slows and stops, content to just sit there together for a bit with him unaware of the 6 buttons you had managed to get undone. Unlike the other times you’ve met in his dreams you aren’t simply shoved out this time- Alastor wakes up slowly and groggily, like anyone else would, and you open your eyes at the same time. He spots you in the armchair and moves to the side, clearing up a space beside him. “Come over here, dear,” he says, and you’re helpless to disobey. 

Sitting up in the armchair you become aware of two things- that the welts and likely bruises from the tentacles had carried over into real life, as did the slick arousal and throbbing need in your cunt, suddenly desperate to be filled with Alastor- not just in a dream but here, now.

You stand from the chair and to the demon’s surprise, slip your bottoms and panties off before climbing into the bed and settling yourself against his side. He turns to face you, face twisting in slight pain when the wound on his chest shifts, but he trails his fingers down the slope of your neck, over the curve of your hip, finally dipping between your legs and feeling how wet you’ve become from allowing him to be in control of you. “We may have to find a new punishment for you, dearest, if this is how you react to this method.”

“Please, Alastor,” you say, reaching a hand down to his lap and pleased to find that while he’s been spent in the dream, his erection here in the real world is eager to go again. You slip your fingers under the band of his trousers, circle them around his cock with a light squeeze. “Please, I need it- not in the dream but here, real . Please?”

His breath catches in his throat, hot exhale against your face. “I- I am injured, darling, I cannot perform as I do in my mind-”

“You don’t have to.” You’re already shifting, getting up on your knees and settling over his lap, slotting his hard, hot length against your dripping folds. “I’ll do it- you don’t have to do anything. I- I just need to cum, please?”

He cups your face in his hand like he had in the dream. “How could I possibly deny you anything?” He assists you in positioning yourself on his cock, a soft “careful, dear” as you start to sink down.

Jesus fuck. The dreams had done nothing to prepare you for the feeling in real life as you’re speared on his cock, your body making room for him with the delicious slide down until you’re seated in his lap completely. You’re full of him in every sense; your cunt stuffed, mind racing with thoughts of Alastor, vision blocked by anything but the sight of his eyes wide as he watches you take him in, his claws digging into the skin of your hips. It’s so, so much better than it is in the dreams- it’s tangible , a real memory that you can hold onto from your mind, not remnants of something in Alastor’s head. This was yours. Something he’s giving you because you asked for it, begged him for it and he obliged.

You raise up on your knees, already shaky from the slow descent, and make it halfway before Alastor shifts his hips and hits the bundle of nerves inside you. You bite back the moan that wants to escape, glaring at him halfheartedly. “I said I would do it.”

“You’re certainly taking your time, darling. Just thought I could offer some assistance.” He gives you a positively lecherous smile. “I suppose if you won’t allow me to move this should suffice.” He lets one hand slide off your hip to rub at your clit with his thumb, the other tightening its grip on you.

“I’ll- I’ll allow it,” you choke out, a little miffed that the subtle shift of his hips was enough to get him right where you needed him. You ride him gently, mindful of his injury, and the pleasure crests, so close to breaking you that your legs are cramping. “God, Alastor, please-”

“What do you need, beautiful?” You have only a moment to process the word before he’s moving, an arm wrapping around your middle and turning the pair of you over, rutting his cock into you with a speed and pressure that makes you dizzy. His smile is dazed looking down at you, watching your cunt swallow him and reveling in the wet noises that emerge from where you’re joined. “You’re so close, darling, I can feel it- your pleasure is mine. Every time you reach that peak, when you cum on my cock, it will only ever be me. ”

He shifts again, brings his knees up closer to get deeper inside of you. “Fuck, Alastor, my god-”

“I like the sound of that,” he purrs, bending down to trail his tongue up your throat. “I want to be everything to you. Would you allow me that privilege? To claim you, to own you in every way that you’d let me, in any dimension.”

Your head whips back and forth on the pillow, the edge so close your vision is dark. “Please, please, please,” you’re mumbling, “Alastor please, I’m gonna-”

The tension snaps before you can finish your sentence, a wailing cry falling from your lips as you clench and shake and cum under him, around him. It’s so different from when it happens in Alastor’s dreams- it echoes in every part of your body, your head spinning and fingers tightening in his shirt so hard that you fear you’ll rip the fabric. His name spills from you in waves with your release, and his eyes are dark as his thrusts intensify, chasing his orgasm with the resolve of a man possessed.

“Yours, all yours,” you mumble against his lips when his face comes close enough to catch his mouth. “All of me.”

He snarls and his hips stutter, snapping hard against yours. “So much- so much better,” he gasps through the tightening of your pussy on his length. “So perfect- mine -” With a harsh growl he spends himself a second time for the night, into the wet silken grip of your body. He thrusts gently through the wave of it before he collapses in a heap against you, breathing heavily into your ear.

“You’re so- lovely,” he mumbles. “Giving, for a demon. One would think that you would simply take- I would, were it me with your powers. But you’re just…” He trails off, head against your shoulder and breath slow. 

You bring a hand up to trail down his back. “I meant it,” you whisper, swallowing your nerves. “If you- if you would have me, I would be yours. For as long as you want. Forever.”

He remains silent.

Fuck. You hope you haven’t overstepped some boundary. “Alastor?” He doesn’t move, or show any indication that he’s heard you. “Hey, are you okay?” You push at his shoulder with no response, so you double down and push harder, tumbling him off of you.

“Mother fucker.” The bandages wrapped around his chest are stained with red, more than when you had begun- the demon had torn his stitches open when he flipped the pair of you around to take control back, after you specifically told him you would handle your orgasms yourself. “Idiot,” you hiss at his slacken face, but you still brush his hair back from his sweaty forehead before pulling your bottoms back on and rushing down the hall to find Husk, ignoring the sting of the welts on your rear the whole way.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #x reader #bark bark bark #my stuff <3 #hazbin hotel x reader

[harbingersecho]

misrecognition is not ignorance

#rvb #locus #sam ortez #samuel ortez #red vs blue #rvb locus #mine #art #*23 #i've been meaning to do smth w/ locus and misrecognition and mirror stage and fragmented body for ages... he's SOOOO!!! #sometimes u stumble upon some lacan or some sartre and bc you're v normal you're like. this is sooo locus #its abt the SUBJECT AND THE OBJECT AND VISIBILITY AND MAN IS CONDEMNED TO BE FREE AURGH BARK BARK. ok. #anyway i can talk abt locus til im dead BUT... i shan't #i wish i was a better writer tho... i feel like all my writing is just pretentious incomprehensible stream of thought musings lol. rip #but look at that. i FINALLY fucking finished something. it's been like three weeks and i just have a bunch of wips lol

[megarabane]

“You asshole.” He digs the spoon back into the broth, nearly spilling it himself. “It’s always—fucking—dignity this and honor that.” Sanji lets go of the bowl to grab Zoro by the chin and jerks his head around to face him. Zoro’s eyes widen in shock, and one hand twitches up, but for once, he’s not fast enough.

“Why don’t you prioritize—” Sanji shoves the spoonful of broth into his barely-open mouth, and later, he’ll feel bad about the way the utensil knocks against his teeth. “—staying alive for once?!”

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a little zosan-flavored (or not! your choice whether to read into the subtext or not) oneshot based heavily on this post by @darkdumbass, which has been living rent-free in my dome for literal years months (feels like years but probably not years)

i hope i did your vision justice! that comic means a lot to me :3

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#megara.txt #writing #my writing #zosan #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #one piece #thriller bark #thriller bark spoilers #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3 writer #fanfic #fanfiction #op #funny rubber man go boing funny pirate show #inspired work

[sheeluvsme]

Captain price Drabble for my babes that have nightmares <33

As someone who is going through a bunch of medical shit rn for nightmares and PTSD attacks, you are not alone !!! And I know a lot of times it feels like there is nothing helpful to do for it , I wrote this just to hopefully help others and help me too lol ,your not alone :)

Fluff , reader with bad past , scars , PTSD , nightmares, comfort, hurt , angst, mentions of violence , price being the best husband ever fr

Beta reader! @bubuslutty

You normally didn’t have a terrible time sleeping.

You were always in the strong arms of your husband, sometimes too strong.

He really liked to bear hug you, keep you safe, close. As much as he kept you safe, he surely did that, he could not keep you safe from your head. Especially when you slept.

That was a whole different battle, war even.

You lay comfortably in Price’s arms as your cheek lays on his chest, the clock reads about 2:12am. You convinced Price to get regular clock’s because you couldn’t stand military clocks.

Always so hard to read!

Anyways, He’s softly breathing against you, you're both so peaceful, as your mind slips into living hell. You don’t know how you got here, but you're back in that room. That dreadful place.

You start running, immediately, opening doors, yelling for Price. Looking and clawing trying to get out, you're in absolute tears, feeling your chest get short of breath.

Suddenly you turn to see them.

The person you dread most.

You froze, you can barely breathe. You feel yourself shake, soon shaken hard enough you jolt awake.

“Don’t touch me!-“ You yell, jolting awake trying to push whoever is holding you off.

Firm hands grab you tighter and force you to still, “Sweetheart!- Sweetheart listen to me. Listen- it’s me- it’s Price.”

Your eyes flutter around as tears fall from your eyes, your chest heaving heavily.

“Price-?” You whispered, your voice shaky.

Price softly lets go of you, pulling you close instead, holding you.

“Shhh…it’s alright’ love. I’ve gotcha.” He can’t help but feel sad for you. He knows exactly what those dreams are like. Even worse he heard you mumble for him in his dream.

You were looking for him. Crying for him to save you.

And he sadly couldn’t save you from your own mind.

He let you calm down and cry into him.

You mumbled soft things, “They- I was there and- I couldn’t find you- and they-“ You stuttered softly.

John kissed your cheek, “I know. It’s ok, love. They can’t hurt you anymore… If they even give it a think they’ll have a hound of men on their asses, yeah?” He spoke trying to cheer you up.

To let you know you were safe.

You smiled softly through the tears. John always was his best with you… Even with moments like these.

Your hand softly rubs over your past scars and John grabs your hand gently, “None of that now.“ He whispered.

“I know.“ You responded, “I just wish they weren’t there.”

His hand sooths over your back, “Love, scars make you, you. And you’re one tough badass. Probably tougher than me!” He spoke to you softly, his words pulling a smal laugh from you.

“There you are…” he adds.

“I’m no way tougher than you, John.“ your puffy eyes roll at his comment.

“I think you are. You’re tougher than me in different ways, I mean shit- you're better at disciplining my own task force than I am! They're so persistent I can’t get them to shut up sometimes-!” He chuckles against your neck softly.

“They're easy to scare, plus I think I win them over whenever I bring food in, think they're just in their rebellious stage with you, hm?” You look at him smiling.

God, he loves your smile.

“Well shit, I don’t think it's no longer a stage love “ You let out a soft laugh as you learn back looking at him.

“There’s the face I love, hm?” He looks at you , kissing you softly.

You kiss him back before he pulls back cupping your face, “You know I love you, right?”

You pause, “..yes of course I know that, Price. We’re married-“ he cuts you off.

“I know, love. But I’m saying you know I love you, right? And I’d never hurt you. “ You smiled softly, your hands wrapped loosely around his neck, “I know- I know. I love you too, Price baby..” You whispered softly looking at him.

“Good, now… Let’s try and get you some sleep, yeah?... Gotta’ big day tomorrow and I don’t want you not able to function’ “ he lays down with you softly, turning on the tv and letting it play, turning down the volume till it was almost silent.

Just some light and noise to help and you lay in his arms, holding onto him.

#cod mwii #writers on tumblr #cod headcanons #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #john price #captain john price #captain john price x reader #price #call of duty #captain john price smut #captian price #call of dooty #omg he’s so hot #BARK BARK #captain price #captian price luvers #sheluvvsme #soap call of duty #writing #fanfic #writer things #witers on tumblr

[pupyr0arz]

I hate small readers I hate tiny readers with delicate little hands who get picked up like poorly treated chihuahuas. Give me reader who looms who’s bigger than their partner who can’t sit on their lap bc they’ll crush them. Buff!reader, chubby!reader, tall!reader, hell average height reader! I am tired of 4’2” waifs. We must revolutionize.

#.bark #cod x you #cod x reader #writers on tumblr #writeblr #x reader #reader insert #x you #being harsh here for emphasis it’s obviously fine to love it and I like small reader. in Moderation (personally) #I am just so tired of every single reader having the hand width of an mnm and using a needle as a sword

[jukeboxhound]

i really want to like netflix' wednesday and i do think jenna ortega has done an excellent job with what she's been given, but the writing/narrative choices make me want to scream in rage at how not-addams family they are

i think i'd enjoy the show much more if it weren't claiming to be the next installment of charles addams' legacy and just existed as its own thing 😭😭😭

#c'mon burton i trusted you #i know you're not the writer for this but I TRUSTED YOU #anti wednesday #on the other hand losing my mind over a reviewer who dissed the 'unnecessary morbid humor' like GURL #READ THE ROOM #this show has 99 problems but none of them involve being 'unnecessarily morbid' #hound barks

[midnight-blue-goth]

➜ Day 32 | Original list by @hinallie | [discord] - "aND THEN KISING HER ON THE CHEEK" -

#gwuncan #td gwuncan #gwuncan week #dungwen #gwen #td gwen #duncan #td duncan #total drama #total drama all stars #tdas #gif #gifset #mine #mine:gifs #s:little gwuncan things #I kinda feel that 'it was fun while it lasted' was for us the shippers #like this was a kinder resolution for them #I already knew that td writers couldn't hold the canon for too long especially when you have dogs barking at you

[obsob]

Reading questions!: how many books have you read this year? worst book and best book? what are you reading now? <3

hello !!

-currently i have read 49 books this year tho quite a few of those were novellas . but some of them were like 800 pages so. balances!

-best books tied between: in memoriam / alice winn - the cloud roads / martha wells and fools errand / robin hobb -worst books: in the lives of puppets / tj klune (i fucking HATE tj klunes writing. and i also hate purposely written '''cosy'' fiction and forced found family stuff. why do i keep reading his books) and the cruel prince / holly black (girl none of these characters are likeable)

rn i am reading fools quest by robin hobb which is .....okay......ngl im not liking the fitz and the fool trilogy much rn i rlly didnt like fools assassin which honestly shouldve just been 'fitz makes questionable parenting decisions and struggles to run a household'. im not like getting the vibes. i might pause reading it or read smth else as well along side im undecided

#barks #also my next read might b th new freya markse book or th will of many by james islington which i Dont have high hopes for but am....curious #i am the worlds most picky reader also. male mc priority. single pov. NO YA!!!!!!. fantasy preferable. queer very preferable. #very hard 2 find all those things combined and its a) not just straight smut and b) actually well written #i also do not trust most men fantasy writers srry u just lack emotional depth and also write women weird #u kno sometimes when ur reading a book n ur like. this was written by a middle age white american man #u can just Smell the american. i tried reading that fucking. like tarot series??? the last sun i think?? sm good ideas but good LORD #literally like reading a marvel movie. read sm ursula le guin n get a GRIP

[blue-b-bro]

I think my problem with huddy is that House subconsciously tied Cuddy with his happiness and self worth.

When he's at his lowest, he often goes to Cuddy, and they have some kind of moment™ and he's back to his "fine" self. One time Cuddy didn't come to the rescue, (because she has a child now and so her priorities changed) he hallucinated her and could go back to his normal life (for like a day).

She's like a bandaid that keeps him from completely falling apart, but the cracks are still there. Never left. She said she loves him, and after getting over his fear of fucking it up, House started to define himself through this relationship.

He's too scared to go to Cuddy when she's sick because if she's gone, he's got nothing left, he's so dependent emotionally on her, nothing matters to him except this relationship.

Remember when he was happy for the first time in s03? And felt he was making more mistakes as a doctor because of it and decided he would rather be miserable than a worse doctor? Well with Cuddy he doesn't care about his patients anymore, which may sound romantic at first, but really it's just unhealthy and sad. (or maybe I'm wrong Idk, but I thought House being so determined to diagnose his patients was rather a good thing, especially since he was the only person that could help them. And most people thought that part of him was admirable).

What I'm trying to say is that it's no wonder he spiraled so violently after their break up. He lost his meaning, his anchor, his proof of his worth as a person, his (according to him) only chance to be happy, to be gifted that happiness. He had to built himself from scratch, but first he had to destroy everything that lead him to that state of mind. That's why he exploded and that's why (partially or not) he's much less chaotic in s08.

I think he was able to be with Wilson in the end, didn't run away or drown his pain away, because they're codependent in a way that one will die for another or do other crazy stuff, but not because the other one defines them, but because they want to.

#I want the polycule but the writers won't let me #Bark bark #House md #Huddy #Hilson #I'm trying to be smart lol

[silverskye13]

"So I'm about to say something really... Hmm... Weird," Joe said as he leaned against the building, arms crossed.

"Is that supposed to be news to me?" Cleo asked, rifling through her bag and pulling out two apples. She passed one to Joe, and he took it.

"If it were, I don't think we'd be friends."

"I figured."

"Anyway it's a little weirder than normal."

"I'll be the judge of that, I think."

Joe shrugged, took a bite of his apple and said, "So, one of the arguments against a benevolent God -- don't look at me like that I told you it was weird -- anyway, so, if God was so nice, would he have put a bomb in the Garden of Eden?"

Cleo blinked at Joe for a long moment.

"Sorry, I'll back up a little," Joe smiled apologetically. "How much do you know about human theology?"

"I've been human before Joe," Cleo glowered, pulling a knife from her pocket and cutting a small piece away from her apple. "That's just a really strong lead."

Joe shrugged. "Did you expect anything different?"

"No, it's just a little early for theology today."

"We can talk about something else, if you want."

A shout interrupted their conversation. Grian sprinted past, laughing maniacally and apologizing in the same breaths. Doc followed quickly after him, shouting curses and insults. Joe and Cleo both took contemplative bites of their apples and watched the two run.

"No, I want to see where this conversation is going," Cleo said finally, slicing another piece of her apple off.

"Okay, so, some people believe God is all-knowing, all-powerful, and also, all-benevolent," Joe continued, twisting his apple stem with every adjective. "But if He were all of those things, why would He make a bunch of curious humans, tell them they could touch everything except one specific big red button, and, knowing they would definitely press it, just sit back and watch?"

"I wasn't aware buttons and bombs existed at the same time as the Garden of Eden."

"One could argue the whole Soddom and Gammorah thing was bomb-like."

"That was definitely, definitely meteors, Joe."

"Also the bomb thing is an analogy, and you know it's an analogy."

"What are we analogy-ing?" Mumbo asked, flaring his elytra as he landed beside them.

Cleo pulled a third apple from her bag and passed it to him, "Pretty sure Joe is comparing you to God."

Mumbo took the apple, looking incredulous. He gave a laugh that was half nervous, half confused. "I-- well that's-- that's very flattering Joe. I didn't realize you thought so highly of me."

"You would think that," Cleo smirked, slicing off another piece of apple.

"What?"

"So the question stands," Joe continued as though neither of the interruptions took place. "If God is good, why did he put a big red button in the Garden of Eden?"

Mumbo opened his mouth, and then deciding he had no idea what this conversation was about, actually, he closed it again.

"Maybe God was feeling optimistic that day," Cleo offered. "Or maybe even gods need to screw around and find out sometimes. For instance, I know this apple is definitely going to rot in me later, but I'm also definitely still eating it."

"Fair point," Joe said, twisting off his apple stem and flicking it to the ground. "So maybe God can make mistakes, or He was curious, or there was something ineffable going on at the time. But if God did it twice," Joe gave Mumbo a sideways glance, "would that be screwed up or what?"

Mumbo opened his mouth again, closed it, opened it again.

"Mumbo a fly is going to buzz in there if you aren't careful," Cleo said.

"Okay, okay. I can see where -- okay. So, first off, I'm not God," Mumbo said, and then paused, because Scar was screaming and running past them now, followed shortly by Grian, who was followed shortly by Doc. Then he continued, "Also this isn't Eden."

"It's an analogy," Joe reminded him unhelpfully, smiling warmly.

"Also how was I supposed to know this would happen again?"

"That Grian would push a button, or that Grian would push a button specifically to mess with Doc?" Cleo asked innocently.

Mumbo opened and closed his mouth again eloquently.

"You've gotta admit, at this point it is starting to look intentional," Joe pointed out.

"What's starting to look intentional?" Jevin interrupted, landing amidst the group standing on the fringes of the shopping district. Cleo offered him another apple.

"A malevolent God," Joe answered.

"My button," Mumbo grumbled at the same time.

"The hubris of man," Cleo added, because it seemed relevant.

"I HAVE BEEN STANDING HERE FOR THIRTY-SIX HOURS GRIAN. THIRTY-SIX." Doc screamed, passing so close to the four onlookers in his chase, they could no longer talk over his yelling. "I WANT THAT CROWN IT BELONGS TO ME."

Grian slid across the grass, narrowly dodging Doc's thrown axe. He threw the gaudy purple crown he'd stolen to Scar, who sprinted off in another direction with it. Doc roared angrily, "I LET YOU TOO OFF EASY LAST TIME BUT NO MORE! I WILL RAIN TNT AND FIRE ON YOUR BASES! I WILL TEAR THEM APART BLOCK BY BLOCK I WILL--!"

"I'm sorry Doc!" Grian cackled, not sounding sorry at all, "It's just -- you're so fun to mess with!"

He and Scar spread their elytras and leaped into the sky, followed shortly by Doc, who was still shouting.

Jevin, Cleo and Joe all turned to look at Mumbo, who rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Okay so... Maybe it's possible, yes, I could have foreseen this happening," Mumbo said begrudgingly. "But I mean, it's not all that bad, is it?"

"We do have a lot of fun fighting wars," Jevin agreed, shoving his entire apple into his face. It hovered blue-tinted in his opaque slime for a moment before rapidly dissolving.

"You would, Jevin," Cleo smiled.

"Sleep with one eye open, Cleo," Jevin replied conversationally.

"Some of our best mini games came out of the Mycelium War," Joe observed, taking one more bite out of his apple.

Mumbo looked down at his apple contemplatively.

"So the question still stands," Cleo said, after a long pause had passed between them, "is Mumbo evil for inflicting The Button Game on us the first time, or the second time?"

Joe shrugged, "I think like all religion, the answer is subjective. Doc would argue yes. Grian would argue no."

"That wasn't a yes-or-no question," Jevin said.

"I would argue I'm still not God, so this is a terrible analogy, actually!" Mumbo shouted defensively, and then took a bite of his apple, closing the subject.

#the barking writer #hermitcraft #joe hills #zombiecleo #ijevin #mumbo jumbo #docm77 #grian #goodtimeswithscar #the button game #theology #kiiiiiind of #anyway this popped into my head this morning like a fever dream lol

[ardenrosegarden]

Amnesia: The Bunker, anti-militarism, and nationalism as a blight

Frictional Games, Amnesia: The Bunker Herman Lebovics, True France, The Wars Over Cultural Identity, 1900-1945 Leo Tolstoy tr. Constantine Popoff, What I Believe Fredy Perlman, The Continuing Appeal of Nationalism IAmTheSnuggler, Amnesia: The Bunker - War is Hell Mark Levitch, The visual culture of modern war: Photography, posters, and soldiers' art in World War I France Frédéric Mégret and Raphael Vagliano “We Will Not Go to the Trenches!” the “fusillés pour l’exemple,” Military Disobedience, and Soldiers’ Right to Life

#amnesia the bunker #web weaving #this way of reading is...a lot more spicy I guess but imo pretty well-supported by the game's mechanics and in-game documentation #even though he's not a main character I consider Renoir's letter to Reynard as kind of the thesis statement of The Bunker #I feel like it's the closest the writers get to directly coming out and saying ''hey this is what the game's about'' #I wanted to do more with poor Karl but I feel like the devs already did a very clear job of making that whole situation sympathetic #and there were other smaller tie-ins that I wanted to include here but still. my man </3 es tut mir leid :''''( #anyway. themes. motifs. hiss bark snarl. #blood tw #long post

[specialgrades]

GOD TOJI IN THE LATEST EP FUCK FUCK FU K DADDY SORRY DADDY SORRY D

ALSO SUKUNA????!?!!?! HIS MANIACAL LAUGH IS SO,,,,,, I N3ED HIM TO BEAT IT UP SOSSOSOSOSOSOSOSOOOOOOO HARD I SCREAM OH MY GOD

toji fine as hell but i am. so broken up about his pause when he really looks at megumi. but also sukuna???? rq uh

jesus??? jesus christ???

#💌 ; asks. #❤️‍🔥 ; fwends : teyvat-writer. #being raised christian did smth. i see biblical imagery so easily #i have a desire to top and/or dom sukuna knowing damn well he'd fine dice my ass if i tried #so i concede. sit like a dog by his side. he don't need a dog but i can bark #jjk spoilers

[estellaestella]

watching HEART OF STONE and i am literally less than 3 minutes into the movie and I am hoping and praying the writers' strike goes well - not because this is so well written, no, it's shite, but I want more money to be budgeted for better scripts. (Subtitles of the first 2 minute 51 seconds under the cut if you want to get a feel of how badly it's written)

21 Target approaching.

22 Stone, how we doing?

23 [woman] Almost there. Just pulling the encryption key.

24 Four hours in the van, and she's eaten all the crisps.

25 She's stuck in there with you, so that's comfort eating.

26 Been boring her with your cat chat again?

27 Cat chat? Actually, Parker, she likes my Barry the Cat stories.

28 You like my Barry the Cat stories, right?

29 Before you know it, you're gonna want one of your own.

30 [inhales sharply] Cats hate me. Sorry, Bailey.

31 Writing a new access code.

32 [computer beeping]

33 Grazie.

34 I have eyes on Mulvaney.

35 Intel was good.

36 [Bailey] I can't believe it.

37 Europe's most wanted arms dealer seen for the first time in three years.

38 Adding names and faces to the guest list.

39 How long do you need? - [Stone] Nearly there.

40 [computer beeps]

41 00:02:06,416 --> 00:02:09,041 Hang on. Something's changed. I can't connect.

42 The system's offline.

43 Local access only.

44 [tense music plays]

[keys clanking]

45 We need a new plan to get you in.

46 What do you mean?

47 I need direct access to someone who's already on the network.

48 Head of security. He's at the bar.

49 [Stone] I could hack his phone, but I'll need to be close to him.

50 How close?

Ten feet.

51 [Parker] Stone, you're not a field agent. Do not get out of the van.

52 She can do this.

53 [woman] It's too dangerous.

54 [tense music continues]

55 Mulvaney's entering now.

56 Our arms dealer's on the move right now, and I do not wanna lose him.

57 [Bailey] There's no other way. We have to get Mulvaney.

#gal godot #heart of stone #someone's just barked at godot she isnt a field agent+ she shouldnt go out there - i'd roll my eyes but i also want to see how bad it gets #wga strike #writers strike #sag aftra #actors strike

[notxxan3]

These writers on here NEED to get an Oscar for the smut. Like DAMNNNN!? HOW THEY DO THAT!? (I'm down bad)👀

On a real note, do continue you scrumdillyyumyum work my dear, lovely, sexy, delicious smut writers.💋😍👌

#Fanfics #Writers #One piece #Attack on titan #Jujutsu kaisen #Yu yu hakusho #SMUTTTTTT #Smut. #Smut!? #Barking here

[isa-ah]

me sitting here with a mp100 au I'm kind of obsessively working out in my head but with no idea how to like. do it actually. and also too embarrassed to share it. rip

#barking howling etc #i mean im sure its been done before but the fandom spaces are a 5yo+ time capsule so ive been chewing thru them slowly #sometimes i wish i had all the money in the world so i could go up to my favorite fic writer and ask them to just make it happen for me #$30/hr please write my stupid au in your good good good penmanship