#Carrie answers

[stcr-made]

I would love to take Carrie on a date.

Thank you <3

[infinitegalahad]

I hope Oppie and the reader end up together 😭 I am engrossed

TY SM ILY U KEEP ME WRITING❤️❤️‼️

as someone who just finished the last chapter and is wiring the epilogue, i can confirm nor deny…

…however i can give you a terrible meme from my pinterest😍😍😍😇😘😘😍

[postboxrose]

A kiss in greeting from the kiss prompt meme! ✨

@goobigoombi: 27 because it sounds so domestic and cute 🥺

Thank you lovely goombi for the lovely lovely prompt!! I had so much fun <3 I have one, maybe two more left and I WILL fill those too, so if you sent me an ask it's coming! Soluella is getting all of the smooches they can get.

[bluerosefox]

Paying a Price.

I want more Dad!Tim stuff. (And once again a deaged Danny and Ellie idea)

So let's go do that.

So you know those DPxDC AUs where Tim makes a deal with either Clockwork or Danny to carry Ellie? Or Tim is a reborn Danny whose carrying Ellie instead (love these btw) in order to get Bruce out of the time stream.

Well what about instead of just Ellie, it's both her and Danny.

Danny and Ellie who were badly hurt by the GIW that they both had to revert into their cores. They are saved by their friends/family and are taken to Frostbite. There they are monitored and looked after only until they can finally the reform but they run into a problem. The two can't return to their home dimension due to the GIW activity and they cant stay to long in the Infinite Realms cause they are still halfas. Then one day CW appears to speak with Frostbite over something important about the two.

Meanwhile in the DCverse.

Tim might have figured a way to save Bruce from the timestream. A being known as Clockwork might be able to help him if he manages to summon the powerful 'Ancient'.

However he knows summoning and requesting it's help he will have to pay a price.

If it means getting Bruce back he'll do it...

[forgettable-au]

Hello I have a question

How tall is Wingdings- I mean Paps?

(Hope you’re having a good day)

If you were asking for exact measurements...idk

[asiatic-apple]

hallo!

Smut # 14 - Caleb - Fem! Reader cus college AU caleb lives rent free in my college self

Thank you for the request! This is my first time writing with non-MC!reader in mind bc she’s implied to be studying the same thing as caleb and is presumably in the same class as him. I hope that’s alright with you!

Private lessons

Caleb x female reader (non-MC)

Words: 1.5k

Prompt: library sex for those dark academia vibes

Content: y’all are trespassing loll but it’s not serious, public sex but no one is around to see it, possessiveness, blink-and-you-miss-it competency kink for caleb, use of “baby” as a pet name, also “my smart girl” and “good girl”, creampie

You’re not even supposed to be here. Technically, the campus library closed over an hour ago. But Caleb knows how to disable the magnetic lock on the side entrance with a flick of his wrist and a muttered ‘they really need better security’.

You’d only meant to study for the upcoming exam. Instead, you’re straddling him in the farthest corner of the engineering section, surrounded by old textbooks and barely lit by a dim red hue from the emergency exit signs.

“You were the one who said no distractions tonight,” you whisper, breath catching as he shifts beneath you. “What happened to focus?”

He smirks against your neck. “I am focused.”

His hands roam up under your shirt, callused fingertips trailing over the curve of your spine like he’s tracing the aircraft schematics from your textbooks. You shiver, more from anticipation than the chill as he hikes your shirt farther up your torso.

“It’s your fault,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin. “You kept leaning over the table like that. Kept looking at me like you wanted to be taught a different lesson.”

You gasp as he ruts up against you, his erection thick and insistent beneath his pants. Your body jolts, accidentally bumping into the desk behind you and spilling the stack of thermodynamics printouts he’d tossed aside earlier. It’s a reminder of what you came here for in the first place.

“We’re supposed to be reviewing launch vectors,” you whine, even as you rock against him. Your mind screams that you should continue studying, lest you fail this stupid exam and have to take this class all over again. But your body could give less of a shit about the exam.

“I’m calculating a new trajectory,” Caleb replies, almost smug.

You breathe a soft laugh that turns to a moan as he cups your pussy through your shorts. His thumb rubs over the growing wet patch you leave behind, and you choke on a gasp. The sound makes him infinitely more impatient. He wastes no time shoving his hand beneath your pants and panties, running two thick fingers through your slick.

His touch is purposeful, the way he is with everything: steady, assured, thorough. Caleb is the kind of student professors love. All innocent smiles and endless charm while he uses his intelligence to impress them. But he’s also the kind of man who knows exactly how to pull a whimper from your throat without even trying—and carefully cataloging every time you shudder beneath him.

“You’re soaked,” he groans, more awestruck than teasing.

“And you’re still fully dressed,” you bite back.

That seems to spur him into action.

Caleb’s other arm tightens around your body, lifting you with him as he stands abruptly. His chair scrapes loudly against the floor before he plops you down on the messy table. There are so many books, papers, pens, and notebooks scattered around you.

But in one fluid, determined motion, he reaches behind you—with the hand not still buried in your pants—to sweep his arm across the table. Everything crashes to the floor in a messy avalanche, and the abruptness of it makes your pussy ache with even more arousal.

You barely have time to gasp before his fingers dip inside you, wanting a quick feel of how you clench around him so eagerly.

“Caleb–” you start to say, glancing at the mess of all your textbooks and notetaking supplies.

“I’ll clean it up later,” he mutters, not even sparing a glance at the chaos on the floor. His eyes are only on you.

Everything happens so quickly. His fingers slip out of your greedy cunt all too fast, but he immediately tugs your pants down your legs in the promise of filling you with something much better. Once you’re finally bared to him, he looms closer, slotting his wide body between your thighs.

His chest heaves, like he’s torn between savoring this and devouring you like you’ll disappear if he hesitates for even a second.

It seems he decides on the latter for tonight.

Caleb hurriedly unzips his pants, only pulling the waistband down enough to free his cock, and you salivate at the familiar sight of him. You want to touch, want to taste…But he shakes his head when you reach out for him. He taps your thighs, wordlessly asking you to spread them wider so he can nudge the head of his cock against your dripping entrance.

And when you tilt your hips and whimper for him, he doesn’t make you wait any longer. He pushes into you with one slow drag, stretching you open until your hands are scrabbling behind you for something—anything—to hold on to.

You’ll never get used to this feeling. The way he fills you perfectly, like your body was created to be wrapped snugly around his.

“Shit,” he groans, hands bracing the table on either side of your thighs. “That’s it, baby…take me deeper. Fuck—you can do it. Such a good study buddy for me, yeah?” His lips twitch with a smile, but through his teasing, he still manages to press a gentle kiss to your tensed jaw.

You clutch at the edge of the table for balance as he starts to thrust, his pace initially slow and controlled despite how frenzied he seemed before. Your whole body is shaking from the effort of staying quiet. Every time he slides in just right, you sob his name a bit louder. And it just spurs him on, makes him fuck you harder, determined to pull more moans from your lips.

The thrill of the risk, the setting, the way you’re surrounded by knowledge while your brain turns to mush—it all makes it even harder not to cry out. It feels wrong to be so loud in a library that’s usually only filled with hushed whispers. But no one is here to witness your debauchery. Only Caleb hears the downright pornographic sounds you’re making. And he seems to be enjoying every second.

That smug glint in his eyes makes something within you bubble to the surface—something annoyed and frustrated that he can work you up this easily. “You better hope I don’t fail the exam tomorrow,” you growl as you claw at his shirt and run your fingers up his abs. 

“You won’t,” he says a bit too confidently. “I’ve studied with you the whole semester. I’ve taught you everything you need to know.”

His words are both possessive and full of awe in your abilities. And his thumb rubs gentle circles along your clit as he says the last part—as if he’s implying he taught you more than just the drag and thrust involved in aerodynamics.

He’s your proud mentor. And you’ll never need a different tutor while he’s around, he’s made sure of that.

“You’ll ace the test,” he coos, “because you’re my smart girl, aren’t you?”

Your cheeks burn, and you hide your face in Caleb’s neck as he pounds you even harder now. You're so achingly close to coming with the way he touches your clit, but he stops for a second to pull your face back and grip your chin just tight enough to keep your dazed eyes on him.

“Say it, baby,” he demands breathlessly, words hitching with each deep thrust of his hips. “Say you're gonna ace the test.”

You barely know what you're promising as it spills out, fueled entirely by your need to come. “Yes, I'll ace it—ah—I promise!”

You clench around him, and he shudders, forehead dropping to your shoulder and pressing lazy kisses between thrusts. “Good girl,” he pants. You can feel his stupidly sexy smile against your neck, and it only turns you on more. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

Barely a breath later and you’re unraveling beneath him, your whole body convulsing with the force of your climax. Caleb bites back a curse, grinding into you as you clench around him and milk his cock for every drop of cum spilling inside in slow, pulsing waves.

When he eventually pulls out, you gasp at the mess it makes on the table beneath you. You know you should be embarrassed by what the two of you did here, but you’re still too blissed out to care too much.

For a long moment, the only sound in the empty library is the echo of your combined heavy breathing and the distant hum of the building’s power systems.

You’re still catching your breath when Caleb litters soft kisses along your cheeks and the corner of your grinning lips. “So…still want to quiz me on launch vectors?”

You snort, slapping his chest in playful annoyance. “Only if you plan on using it to get us out of trouble when campus security finds us.”

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dividers by me (please do not repost)

[peace-hunter]

I need to know what the thirteen’s reaction was to first seeing Bumblebee I bet they where like he is definitely our new nephew because Optimus is basically his dad no matter the continuity

they love him dearly <33 and optimus is not above using this to his advantage <333

haunted au

[morganbritton132]

Eddie: *preventing Steve from having an allergic reaction when Joyce unknowingly services him food he’s allergic too at a party*

Also Eddie: *causing Steve to have an allergic reaction anyways by sneaking off and making out with him after eating*

Robin: *not fooled by his bullshit explanation of what caused this hospital trip*

[ffcrazy15]

There's this way of doing female-ness in Christianity that I call "pastel flower journal Christianity." I've got nothing against pastel flower journals per se, but for some reason people believe it's the end all and be all of female spirituality, and I think it's a real disservice towards young Christian women.

One of these days I'd like to start a prayer-and-reading group or something for young women, but there would be no floral themes or over-focus on how "God thinks you're beautiful even if the world doesn't" (a true statement, but it's wayyyyy too often the focus in women's spiritual reading). Instead we would be reading:

Seneca's Letters from a Stoic

Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning

Sheed's A Map of Life

Portions of Pieper's book on leisure

Kreeft's Three Philosophies of Life

Guardini's The Lord (or something similar)

Therese's Story of a Soul

and some select portions of the Nicomachean Ethics.

(Also they're all getting the porn talk. I don't know why we give the porn talk to young men but not young women. There's this idea that women don't use porn and they only need the talk about "guarding their heart." Bullshit. There's porn on the YA shelves of Barnes and Nobles and before that there were bodice rippers. Young women need the porn talk too.)

Every young woman needs to be getting a basic grounding in virtue ethics, logic, natural law, scholastic philosophy and Biblical hermeneutics if they're going to get by in today's spiritual landscape. Enough faffery and emotionalism in young women's spiritual education! Give them real food to chew on, not pasty sentimentalism!

[lara-cairncross]

Mama when will you feed us more Baja blast bro separation au???

mama is currently brainrotting about hedgehogs but i do have some microwaved leftovers for you. eat my child. ill have more for you eventually just keep reminding me

[ew-selfish-art]

DpxDc AU: Tim as a child was never given a lot of information regarding the scribbling messy handwriting that appeared over night all over his arms- naturally he came to his own conclusions.

Tim Drake was home entirely alone at 9 years old and was about to go out for the night to test his brand new long exposure camera lens when he sees the writing on his arm. It’s not English, like he assumed it was at first, but it was using the alphabet to represent… Tim isn’t bad at math but this formula is complex for his little genius brain.

Looking at his camera, he decides he can spare a moment to look it up, solve it, and get back out into old town Gotham in time for Batman and Robin’s final patrol lap. He does just that, finding the problem to relate to some aerospace engineering and then quickly deduces what laws and theorems need to be applied. He finds a pen, writes down his findings in much neater handwriting onto his arm, and goes out. It’s barely a remarkable night at all. He gets a much more memorable photo of Robin roundhouse kicking a hench person.

Things just continued on that way. Tim would find some complex math, physics or chemistry prompt on his arm (surrounded by various question marks or notes or sad faces)- he’d answer it as best he could and move on with his life. Perhaps his parents were manifesting these pop quizzes? Perhaps his subconscious felt guilty about abandoning his studies for more Bat related pursuits? Tim really didn’t care to think much about it once he became Robin- there was too much on his plate and too many peoples problems for him to fix.

Notably, however, after the attack at the Tower, the pop quiz appeared and Tim wrote back that he wouldn’t be able to find an answer to this one. It was the only time Tim questioned the markings appearance and it was because the next thing that appeared was “Hope you feel better soon.”

… his parents wouldn’t include that on a pop quiz. Cursed then. Tim decided it must be a curse, whatever, he’d deal with the implications later in life.

Tim then has the worst year of his life, hes 15, no longer Robin and the questions from his curse are getting less math oriented and more… philosophical. A lot of mentions of death that, in hindsight helped him actually grieve, and a lot of theories about dark matter and souls. Tim answers back as best he can but he’s drained and his answers aren’t very good in his opinion. He gets minimal feedback.

It all comes to a point that he’s at a family dinner, Bruce is at the head of the table, Jason has promised just to stay for dessert, Damian hasn’t thrown a single insult his way and Steph was laughing at him- when a new theoretical model appears on his arm.

“You’re just as bad as Bruce, Timberly. Hiding a soulmate from all of us, how fucking typical.” Jason points out, while watching Tim scribble back some math with a question mark onto his arm.

“A what? No, this is just a curse. I get pop quizzes every now and then.” Tim bats away Steph who rapidly approaches and began to analyze his arm (the rest of the family isn’t far behind).

“Drake. Explain how you came to this conclusion.” Damian seems more curious than anything, if his lack of insults was anything to go off of.

“Since I was young I’ve had at least weekly math check ins, I never had a parent or anyone else around so I assumed my parents had me cursed to ensure I stayed on top of my studies. Sometimes it’s physics or chemistry, for a while there it was a ton of philosophy and behavioral psychology.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Master Tim, I believe the lack of adults in your life has led you towards a false conclusion. That is most certainly a soulmate mark. The individual to whom you are responding is undoubtedly your other half.” Alfred attempts to calm the room before explaining to Tim. Tim isnt sure if he believes the butler, though Alfred only very rarely lied, so he grabs the pen once more. He writes his first question back: “Who am I to you?”

The room waits in anticipation and within moments a brand new line appears on Tim’s arm and he is vindicated: “We do math together???”

——

The reason Danny is failing English is because his built in homework helper sucks ass at metaphors and has apparently never read any classic literature. The tutor on his arm is great at puzzles and math tho.

Danny gets a reply back one night that he wasn’t expecting (Who am I to you?) and he mentions it to Jazz. Who goes insane that Danny didn’t even question it and just went with “meh, probably haunted” as his explanation for the phenomenon for all these years.

Apparently, if Jazz was right, he had a soulmate who was uh, super fucking smart. That was an overwhelming thought.

The next day Danny is in crisis mode and writes back “Wait, WHAT AM I TO YOU??? Can I help on your homework??”

Danny gets vindicated when the writing on his arm presents a shit ton of dates and information for an unsolved Gotham cold case. See, Haunted.

———

Eventually between Danny becoming the top candidate for astrophysics at Wayne Enterprises and Tim Drake being outed as having contributed tips to the GCPD that solved cold cases- they meet and realize just how dumb they’ve been.

[infinitegalahad]

Hello! Just wanna ask, how to access your masterlist? I've been dying to access it but it seems I cannot click anything and it directs me to google docs. Thank you very much.

hi yes! it’s currently at work in progress at the moment. i’m trying to add all of my stories onto there. it’ll up as soon as possible, but if you want to look at other more of the works, look for “carrie’s writing” in my search and you’ll find some of my stuff! albiet very old and cringey haha. hope this helps! ❤️

[carlyraejepsans]

I'm curious what makes you think Susie is going to be the villain? I feel that would be reductive to her character ultimately but I'm curious about what your thoughts are

i think you're misunderstanding my point. "villain" in the sense of it as a role in the prophecy. someone who opposes how things should be. the natural order. the story. dark heroes "carry out fate with the blade". she is the dragon, as gerson calls her (non coincidentally, he informs us that the heroes stop the dragon in the first book of lord of the hammer) and gerson himself questions in multiple places whether the role of "hero" should be taken for granted as good.

the prophecy IS a form of violence within the game. for a kid who suffered systemic neglect and abuse all her life like susie, who nevertheless is so determined to love her friends and change things for the better, it's no wonder she's seen as a threat.

[canisalbus]

Regrettably caught myself thinking “Is he, you know… *pictures Machete’s tail curl*” earlier today.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

A villain that’s very protective of their hero

A tear ran down their temple when the hero woke up.

"I..." Their throat tightened. It hurt. All of it hurt. As they realised they were covered in dust, their eyes teared up even more, washing the dirt off their face in clear slim lines. They couldn't see much, but there were little rays of sunshine pushing through the concrete above and to their sides, revealing the villain on top of them.

The hero had to swallow, clear their mind. The villain stared at nothing in particular, not even the hero under them. They looked like they were concentrating, but the hero knew that look too well: the villain was in surging pain.

Their washed-out eyes were wide open and there was blood sticking onto their hair. The hero couldn't tell for how long they had been unconscious, but the villain seemed to have been awake the entire time.

Apparently, not even a building collapsing on top of them could destroy them.

The hero stared at them, stared at that face shape, those shoulders, those eyes. Was that it? Were they ultimately going to die together? Right here?

The hero didn't have any energy left in them to lift a finger, at least of all chunks of concrete. Their muscles burnt and they were sure several bones of theirs were broken. They continued to observe their enemy. Their enemy who had saved them. Without them, everything left of the hero would be mushed-up heroism and a torn cape. How was it even possible that the both of them were alive?

"How are you holding up?" the hero whispered. They were sure they had mere minutes before the villain's arms would give out. Mere minutes before the villain would collapse just like the building.

At first, the villain didn't answer. Their arms were shaking. They took in a deep breath.

"My kidneys are definitely done for," they said eventually. Their voice was raspy, their breathing quick. "And my leg is broken. You think some of your friends will come to our rescue?"

"If we can hold on for like ten more minutes, maybe. That's a big if, though." The villain nodded or maybe the hero imagined it, after all their view was extremely limited. "Why'd you do that? You could have saved yourself."

The villain finally looked at them and the hero's chest hurt more than before.

"...how could I not?" they asked.

"No, please, don't do that-"

"You're my everything. I do all of it because of you. I show up to see you, I mess up to see you, I fight to see you."

"Please," the hero begged. They couldn't bear a confession now. They couldn't watch the villain die because of them. "Please don't say that. Please tell me you hate me and it was a mistake or instinct."

"You know that's not true." The villain's blood ran down their side and dribbled onto the hero. They moaned softly. "You know that's not true, not even a little bit."

The villain let out a sharp breath and the hero could tell they were breaking down slowly. Growing weaker while the concrete grew heavier.

Tears gathered in the hero's eyes anew.

"I can't do this," the hero said. "You can't leave me, please. I am so scared. I am so-"

They choked on the words. There wasn't much space for either of them, but the hero managed to push their arm up and although some of their fingers were certainly broken, they touched the villain's cheek.

"Are you getting claustrophobic?" the villain asked gently. Their arms were trembling and more and more blood was running down their sides. The hero knew the villain could barely hold it together and they didn't seem to realise that the hero was rather getting thanatophobic. Even now, the villain remembered that the hero was a little uncomfortable in tight spaces, but the lack of space was their last problem right now. "Don't worry. I am here."

And there it was.

Blood coming out of the villain's mouth.

"I am here, please don't cry," the villain said. "I am right here."

The hero tried to hold back their sobs, but it made everything a little harder.

"I am so tired," the villain whispered. They closed their eyes for a second. "Please, can I lay down? Just for a minute or two. My back hurts so much."

"Yes, come here," the hero answered. Their bottom lip quivered.

But they were more than ready to share the weight the villain had protected them from.

pt. 2

[poirott]

Sir David Suchet on which detective he would play other than Poirot → January 12 2024

"People always ask me what is it about my Poirot that is so endurable and memorable. It's nothing to do with me, actually. I lifted the character from Agatha Christie's books and, hopefully, got it right, for Agatha Christie and her millions of fans worldwide. But, for the viewers, I think, he's also a great moral compass. So, when you're watching him, you feel safe, you feel secure, and everything is gonna be alright. And, I think that's a lovely feeling." - David Suchet, Capital Theatres interview