#anyone of them is like interesting enough

[ms-demeanor]

Some people on the left are discussing whether the left is kind enough to me. Especially after the results of the election like lots of men of some demographics voting for Trump. Do you have any thoughts on that? Seems more about women should be nicer to men in some people’s opinions. And I am not sure about this discourse

i think that the social atomization that contributes to the radicalization of young men also contributes to, like, tradwifery and the radicalization of young women so I think that people are looking at a deep systemic issue with a shallow lens.

I don't think this is so much an issue of people being "nice" but of spaces making people feel *valued.*

The right-wing space full of toxic masculinity where people call disaffected young men "brother" isn't comforting just because people call you brother, it's because they're framing disaffected young men as valuable members of society who have been dismissed and degraded by the left. It tells them they're important and have worth and are necessary for the future of the world just because of who they are.

Of course they're getting called pussies and cucks and are being bullied in that space, but they're also being told that if they perform a certain standard of masculinity they are the future of their nation/race/species/family/etc. The toxicity of that space isn't something that makes them question their value, or whether or not they're a good person, or if they have something to offer the world. It is something they endure to prove that they are a member of the in-group, and that they belong, and that they do have value and are a good person.

So, there are people dunking on that post because it does kind of read like "i was almost eaten up by the alt right because women weren't nice enough to me" and to an extent i think that it was ungracefully worded. But i also think that it's addressing something that a lot of people feel in a lot of political spaces.

I do not think that whatever the hell we consider "the mainstream left" in America is particularly welcoming to anybody. I think that it very superficially values diversity while not actually valuing people. I think that it says "You are important! And that's why I need you to donate three dollars to my campaign to prevent the Republicans from harming [your identity group]! I am asking for your help as a senator, a mother, and a person who wants to defeat my opponent in two to four years."

I think that what a lot of people are looking for is not acceptance or niceness but is a community and i'm not at all surprised that people feel like they're not getting that from democrats/the mainstream left/whatever.

I mean. My real response to this is:

I don't think that the *actual* issue is that men don't feel welcomed by "the left," I definitely don't think the issue is women being insufficiently nice to men, I think the issue is that all of us are little cogs in a capitalist machine and actually there's very little out there that is saying to anyone "you are worth more than your productivity."

And it turns out that people will put up with huge amounts of abuse if the abuser makes them feel like they belong. People getting sucked into the alt-right pipeline because it is "nice" to them are exactly analogous to people who get sucked into cults because the cult provides community and affirmation and a sense of belonging.

Anyway, I am once again and as always begging people to put together or join any kind of at-least monthly meetup based on your specific interests. Start a radio club. Start a quilting circle. Put together a free store at the park once a month. Literally join a drum circle. Participate in a community garden. Start a walking club with your neighbors. Go to events at the library on weekends.

As a side note: there absolutely are lefty spaces that function by making people feel worthless or feel like bad people. They tend to have high turnover, short lifespans, and explosive fallout. These are shitty spaces and if your participation in a space is primarily motivated by some combination of guilt and self-flagellation, you should leave that space.

[maddascanbe-blog]

The Department of Unearthly Inhabitation

"Ma'am we understand if you don't want to maintain the property, but if you don't sell it soon, it will be repossessed." Cross told the irritating young lady.

"That castle been in my family for generations!" She insisted. This was false. It was bought by the previous owner's parents as extra storage and was maintained by their son while he attended university.

Looker was fully aware of this fact, as well as the fact that this young irritant had refused to pay the remaining staff. They left, and now no one was handling the property in question.

"You can't just steal my inheritance!" The Lady shouted at them.

Cross sighed. "Ma'am, it's not us who would be repossessed it. You can either make sure someone is living there now, or you'll have a non-living tenant soon enough. Then you'd have to find some Mage to chase whatever it is out!"

With it becoming clear that there was no getting through to this woman, Looker marked 'Would not accept assistance' on the form, and both walked back to their truck.

"I take it things went poorly?" Carrey asked from her position in the drivers seat.

"Shut up." Cross snapped, already at his wits end.

Looker took up the passenger seat, and they started driving.

"Where to?" Carrey asked as they approached a crossroads.

Looker flipped open a leather bound book. "We're meant to investigate the Vastly estate. They think something has moved into the property. Someone went missing 7, so it got bumped up on priority."

As it turns out, things had only worsened.

"We don't understand!" Lord Vastly insisted. "We're very careful, even the farthest reached of the property we keep in top form! There are wards against Fair-folk in the woods and fields to prevent circles from forming. But now two of our staff have vanished without a trace!"

Looker put up a hand, "What path are these people taking? Tell me exactly."

They rode the rest of the way with Cross, bemoaning the incoming heache of paperwork they were sure to meet when they made it back to the office.

At the edge of a forested area, they stopped the truck, and Carrey hopped out.

The second her feet touched the soil, she held up a hand to alert the other two.

"Smell that?" She asked.

"No." Cross said plainly. "You know we can't smell things like you, so fill us in."

Carrey took a deep breath. "Smells like rot."

Cross and Looker exchanged glances.

"Perhaps this day might be interesting after all." Looker suggested.

This wasn't bartering with the Fae to get two wayward souls back.

Carrey grabbed a long iron wire from the back of the truck and made a ring around the truck.

Looker took a few seeds from his pocket and pressed them into the ground. Hypericum bloomed after a moment.

Cross was pulling on his jacket and tossed a bag to his teammates.

"Go, record, call the hunters if need be." He told them sternly as they saundered over to the woods.

"Displaced earth." Carrey announced, pointing past Cross and to the left of the group.

"Smell that, did you?" Cross teased, he adjusted the weight on his back.

True to her word, there was a large mound of dirt piled up on two sides of a hole. As they approached, the other smell she'd mentioned, the rot, became clearer, too.

Looker placed a hand to the earth. "Recent. There's something down there, something that just now was let out."

"I'll get the rope." Carrey turned on her heel and headed back to the van, but Cross was too impatient to wait.

He flicked on his flashlight and jumped down into the pit. "Hello! Department of Unearthly Inhabitation! If there is anyone living or non, please announce your presence!"

They heard silence. Cross's flashlight landed on a decomposing newly dead wearing the employee uniform of the property.

"Looker!" Cross called up, "get down here. We've got a body."

Looker's boots hit the floor as he joined his boss. He pulled on a glove and carefully pried open the corpses mouth. Then, I placed a coin inside.

"That'll keep 'em quiet until we can move them." He assures Cross who was still scanning the cavern.

"Looker-" He said again. Showing another two bodies. One had another uniform, but the other was only bone.

Stepping forward again, Cross's flashlight revealed more and more bodies. All of them were reduced to skeletons and in some places were broken.

"Someone's digging up a Pottersfeild…" Looker realized.

"Yeah." Cross began to move back to the entrance. "Carrey! Pull us up!"

"One second!!" Came the slightly far off reply.

"Cross-" Looker pressed a hand to the floor. "Somethings been moving in here, recently."

His boss did not look happy to hear that. "Carrey! Now!"

"I'm hurrying!" She shouted.

The rustle of bone met Cross' ears as he turned to the darkness around them.

"Cross-" Looker said again.

"I know." The man spat.

"Cross!"

"I Know!"

Bones and earth wre pulling together. Not one body, dozens of bodies, recently unearthed.

An unmarked mass grave that some idiot had decided to dig up!

The rope Carrey had retrieved fell down and Cross shoved Looker to it as the mass opened dozens of shattered jaws and screamed an unholy sound at them.

Cross retrieved a long wide balde from his back. Golden runes came alight along the blade.

The Department of Unearthly Inhabitation could hardly leave their employees unprepared, could they?

Two universal constants of high fantasy living:

If something falls into ruin a necromancer will move in 100% of the time

There is a critical mass of gold that will summon a dragon. If you keep accurate records and stay below it you’ll be fine

[7ndipity]

“Just Breathe”

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You're nervous about meeting Yoongi's parents for the first time

Warnings: angst/comfort, brief mentions of toxic family life, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @vicky-chaos for this request! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The late afternoon sun warmed your back as you walked down the street hand in hand with Yoongi, the familiar hum of street noise around you a welcome soundtrack that you hoped would distract from the anxious thoughts that had been filtering through your mind all day.

Normally you loved going on errand runs like these with Yoongi, finding comfort in the mundane routine, but today you had found yourself unable to relax fully and enjoy yourself, even now fidgeting with the handles of the shopping bags in your free hand.

Yoongi’s parents were coming to visit for the weekend, and he had asked if you wanted to help him cook dinner on the first night so that you could meet them. You had been touched that he wanted to introduce you to them at all and had agreed to the plan eagerly enough at first, but inside, there had been a growing tinge of “what if?”.

If this evening didn’t go well, you worried how it would affect you and Yoongi’s relationship going forward.

Yoongi had noticed your growing nerves and had tried to reassure you that things would be fine, even giving you a crash course on his parents' personalities and interests to help make you feel more confident and give you something to talk to them about.

“-And Dad likes reading, so just keep conversation focused around that if you can’t think of anything else.” He finished as you were headed back towards where he had parked the car.

“Right…” You replied distantly, chewing on your lip.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He assured you, squeezing your hand gently.

You nodded, but you couldn’t stop your heart still anxiously skittering around your ribcage, seeking out escape.

“Hey,” His tone was much softer now, drawing your attention back to him with a gentle touch on your cheek, letting his fingers just brush over your skin in the same way that he did as you fell asleep at night. “Just breathe, okay? Everything will be fine. They’re gonna love you.”

You hesitated for the briefest moment.

“What if they don’t?” Your asked quietly, breaking his heart at how small you sounded.

He knew his parents weren’t the easiest to get along with, especially his father, but he had faith that they would see what a beautiful and remarkable person you were. He couldn’t imagine anyone meeting you and not immediately falling for your warm heart and infectious personality.

But no matter how many times Yoongi tried to encourage and reassure you, your anxieties over what could possibly go wrong persisted.

He knew your fears weren’t entirely unfounded; it was no secret to him that the relationship between you and your own parents was difficult to say the least, leaving you with more than a few emotional scars that you were slowly trying to heal. But he was not so secretly hoping that this might be the start of a better relationship with parental figures for you, that you might start to view his family as your own. He just needed you to believe.

“If they don’t like you, then that’s their problem and they’ll have to get over it.” He told you matter-of-factly.

“Yoongi-” You started, but he stopped you.

“I mean it, if they know me and care about me at all, then they’ll make the effort to get along with the person I love.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his in shock, making him realize his accidental admission.

“You love me?” You asked.

“Yeah, of course I do.” He said, trying to ignore the creeping redness that he could feel coloring his face.

“It’s just-, you’ve never said that before.” You pointed out, still staring at him.

“I’ve felt it for a while, I’d just been trying to find the right time to say something.” He replied quietly, suddenly finding the pavement very interesting as he scratched at the back of his neck self-consciously. “And it’s no big deal, you don’t have to say anything ba-”

“I love you too.” You cut him off.

His head snapped back up, his dark eyes filled with cautious hope.

“Really?” 

You nodded. “I always have.”

Before you could blink, Yoongi closed the gap between you, crushing you to his chest in a hug that nearly knocked the wind out of you.

“I love you.” He mumbled into your hair. “I love you so fucking much, and nothing anyone says can ever change that. Not my parents, not anyone.”

Your eyes stung at his words, trying to fight back the sudden wave of emotions that threatened to overtake you.

“I love you too.” You managed, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.

It was moments like this that reminded you of just how thankful you were to have Yoongi in your life, always willing to make room for you, to protect you, to fight for you.

After a long moment, he pulled away enough to meet your eye again.

“We got this, yeah?” He asked. “We’ll be okay.”

You nodded, a small, genuine smile creeping across your face for the first time today.

“Lets go home.” He said, catching your hand in his again and giving it a slight squeeze.

The two of you walked on together in comfortable silence, savoring the feel of the shared warmth of your joined hands, keeping away the autumn chill that tried to chill your fingers.

Everything would be okay. So long as you had each other to hold onto, you could face anything.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[kkayyerr]

Mean! Rafe with pogue! Reader when she regresses like how is he? Is he gentle? Does he tease? Those kinds of things, thank you xx

I got you!

I loooove writing headcanons.🫶🏻

Warnings: Age regression, Dark!Rafe, controlling behavior, manipulation, slight abuse.

– He would probably first met you when you would visit his sister. He knew that you were one of the Pogues, but it wasn’t what he found interesting about you.

– Your behavior wasn’t usual for a Pogue. You were quiet, shy and somewhat childish. Somehow he didn’t found you as annoying as the rest of them, he enjoyed observing you quietly, analyzing your behavior.

– Rafe won’t admit his interest in you to anyone, especially not to his sister, always making snarky comments about you when talking to her.

– „What is she, a five year old?”

– He wouldn’t mind saying things like that to your face, laughing when you will give him a pouty face, that he would secretly find adorable.

– „What was that, little girl? Too sensitive to handle a small tease?"

– But when he would first saw you in the fight that his friends started with Pogues, he would push you to the side, holding you in his hands, so you won’t get hurt. He would find a lot of excuses about that later, when his friends would confront him about being soft to the Pogue.

– Rafe would probably give you a little smirks every time he would see you at his house or somewhere else.

– When he would find out that you are regressed, he would wait for the perfect opportunity to ask Sarah to babysit you for her, and when that opportunity will come, he would make sure that there’s only you and him in the house. He would also make sure that this would be the last time you were talking to Sarah.

– „You know, I’m not like your friends, kid. I actually care about your well-being.”

– He would play with your mind, making you actually believe everything he said.

– „Baby, you’re too precious to think about that Pogue’s shit. Just let me take care of you, alright?"

– Soon enough, the brave Pogue girl will become daddy’s little doll.

– „No one will take care of you better than I do, baby.”

– He would make sure that you are way too eager for his attention and affection to actually leave, or even think about going back to the Pogues.

– Rafe would teach you manners, watching as you slowly turn into the true Kook, because he would be damned if he would let his baby’s brain being stuffed with that Pogue’s bullshit.

– He would dress you himself, adoring your little pink outfits and small ribbons in your hair, that he would braid himself.

– Everytime you would ask to see your friends he would just change his manner to the cold one, and watching as you slowly forgetting about wanting to see them, now crying because of lack of affection.

– „I told you baby, I don’t want you around your friends no more, they are bad influence. Let’s just go to the Topper’s house, yeah?”

– You won’t say „no”, because you know that there will be consequences for you.

– He won’t be using physical punishments. He would just left you alone when you will need him the most, waiting for you to come begging for forgiveness, hoping for at least crumps of his love.

– His favorite words are „yes, Daddy”.

– Rafe wouldn’t hesitate beating the shit out of the Pogues right in front of your eyes, if they would try and talk to you.

– When you will start crying because of the shock he would just hold you close, being much gentler than he usually was.

– „Daddy just wanted to protect you, baby”.

– You would never question his actions, because „Daddy always knows better”.

– Always.

[misswynters]

The crazy and blonde

Part One

Leon S. Kennedy x dimitrescu!reader

song rec: reflections by the neighbourhood

warnings: blood, one kiss :3

The first time Leon saw you, it was under the flickering light of a broken streetlamp, shadows coiling around your silhouette like they’d been summoned to you. Street littered with bodies, undead shambling toward the distance, oblivious to the bloody mess at your feet. You stood in the center of it all, breathing hard but perfectly still, a dark, almost serene smile on your lips as blood dripped slowly from your hands.

He froze. There was something mesmerizing about you—this lethal calm, a sense of dark purpose that he hadn’t seen in anyone else. When your eyes turned to him, sharp as a blade’s edge, he felt his heart lurch. His instincts screamed at him to run, but he couldn’t move. You had him pinned with just a look.

“You lost, officer?” you asked, your voice smooth and mocking as you raised a brow. Your lips curled into a smirk as you took him in, and he noticed the faintest glimmer of hunger in your gaze, like you were sizing him up, determining whether he’d be of any use.

Leon cleared his throat, gripping his gun tighter. “I… wasn’t expecting company.”

You let out a low chuckle, and the sound slid over him like silk, sending a shiver down his spine. “Neither was I,” you murmured, casting a casual glance at the bodies around you. “But you don’t look like them. Not scared or helpless.” You tilted your head, gaze roaming over him appraisingly. “So, what are you, then?”

He held his ground, even as every instinct screamed that you were dangerous. “Just someone trying to get out of this hellhole,” he replied steadily, his eyes never leaving yours. “If you’re not one of them,” he nodded toward the corpses, “maybe we could work together.”

You seemed to consider this, your smirk deepening as you took another step forward, invading his space with an intensity that made his pulse hammer. “Work together?” you repeated, as if the words amused you. “Interesting.” You leaned in slightly, close enough that he could see the fine lines of blood staining your cheeks, close enough that he caught a whiff of something both intoxicating and unsettling. “Are you afraid of a little blood, officer?”

Leon swallowed, his throat dry. “I’ve seen enough not to be.” Your smirk widened, a spark of something dark and dangerous flaring in your eyes. “Good,” you purred, and, without warning, you tossed a knife into his hand. He caught it, feeling its weight and sharpness, his gaze flicking back to you in surprise.

“If we’re going to survive, you might need more than just that gun,” you said smoothly, crossing your arms as you waited, as if daring him to protest.

He gave you a wary look, but there was a hint of admiration beneath it. “Thanks, but I can handle myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” You laughed softly, though there was something almost predatory in your expression, a glint in your eyes that made his heart beat faster. “Let’s just see if you can keep up.” With a final smirk, you spun on your heel and disappeared into the shadows, your steps barely making a sound. For a split second, he hesitated, unsure whether to trust you, but something about you. There was thi strange, dark elegance, the ruthless way you dispatched those creatures. It made him believe you could get him out of this mess. Or at least make it interesting.

He followed, keeping pace as best he could, watching the way you moved, like a predator gliding through the night. Everything about you was lethal and effortless, a blend of violence and grace that both terrified and fascinated him. At one point, you stopped dead, raising a hand to signal silence. Leon crouched beside you, scanning the alley, his senses on high alert. “What is it?” he whispered, keeping his voice low.

You shot him a quick, almost teasing look. “Someone’s in a hurry to get out alive,” you whispered back, but then you pressed a finger to your lips, your gaze sharpening. “Quiet,” you said softly, and the authority in your voice made him obey without question.

Leon barely dared to breathe, watching you with tense fascination as you disappeared into the shadows. For a few seconds, he could only hear silence, thick and pressing, and then—a scream, cut off almost as soon as it began, followed by a dull thud.

When you reappeared, blood spattered across your face, you looked every inch the vengeful phantom. You gave him a pleased, slightly wicked smile as you wiped a bit of blood from your cheek. “That’s one way to clear a path,” you said with a dark chuckle, sheathing your blade.

He raised an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t survive it,” you replied with a smirk, stepping closer, your eyes gleaming as they searched his face. Then, almost playfully, you traced a line down his chest with a gloved, blood-streaked finger. “Tell me, Leon,” you murmured, voice soft and laced with something darker. “Why do you trust me?”

Leon’s breath caught as he felt the chill of your touch even through his jacket. “I didn’t say I did,” he said, his voice rough.

Your lips quirked, your gaze never leaving his. “Then why do you keep following me?” There was no point denying it anymore; he’d been drawn to you from the start, even if he knew it was reckless. He forced himself to hold your gaze, a small, defiant smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I like the challenge. Or maybe I think you’re as stuck here as I am, and you don’t want to admit it.”

You went still, and for a moment, he saw something shift in your expression. There was a flicker of vulnerability, something raw and painful that quickly disappeared behind your carefully crafted mask. Your fingers paused on his chest, then resumed their path, tracing a slow, tantalizing line. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you whispered, leaning close enough that he could feel your breath against his neck. “I could leave any time. I’m just… enjoying the entertainment.” You shrugged pulling back, gaze heavy-lidded and challenging. “Unless you’re suggesting you need me.”

Leon swallowed, heart racing, heat pooling in his chest despite the cold air. He couldn’t deny the strange pull he felt, the thrill of your presence. “Maybe I do,” he admitted softly, barely a whisper. “Or maybe you make this whole situation feel a little less miserable.”

Something softened in your gaze, your smirk fading, and for the first time, he saw a hint of genuine warmth. “Well,” you murmured, almost to yourself, “I suppose I could use some company too.”

And before he could think twice, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a kiss that was surprisingly tender, almost gentle. He felt the cold of your touch, the faint metallic taste of blood, but underneath it, something raw and vulnerable. Something real. When you pulled away, your lips curled into a dangerous smile, and you tilted your head. “You sure you can handle me, officer?” you murmured, the question playful yet laced with a dark edge.

Leon’s eyes glinted as he smirked back, matching your energy, surprising even himself with his boldness. “Guess we’ll find out.”

With a wicked grin, you turned back toward the alley, casting one last look over your shoulder. “Try to keep up, then. I don’t wait around for dead weight.”

And, without hesitation, he followed you, stepping into the darkened alleyways of raccoon city beside you, knowing he was risking his life, but for the first time, he didn’t care.

banner: @anitalenia

[rabbitindisguise]

you can also practice what I call the "oh fuck this essay is due tomorrow" method

context gathering:

go to your favorite source (library, BBC, reddit, etc)

search for the key terms (SIFT, lateral research, misinformation)

cut off date of publication to the past 4 years

find something with a lot of sources

follow the sources all the way to the top, reading whatever seems interesting along the way

counter argument:

if anything in the original source hinges on one fact or lacktherof (example: someone says X percent of the time Y happens, or someone says it's not studied enough to be confirmed false) look up that fact directly

if anything in the original source says THIS GUY IS WRONG, look up what the guy said

look up if anyone disagreed with them, and try to spot similar problems in their arguments

identify what it's making you feel to read it (emotional language, caps, a lot of filler words that don't mean anything, frustration with run ons, etc)

supporting evidence:

look up independant confirmation from another third party source completely unrelated to the main source and the cited sources (if any) for factual information

understand the structure of the argument, the presented evidence, and summarize the information- check this against other people who talk about the subject like people who write blog posts and stuff (doesn't need to be high brow)

try to find additional evidence that would support the theory for reasons not already given

sythesis:

compare all the notes

weigh the information against other information depending on credibility and importance

ask yourself if it's really important enough to think this hard about it, or if it's worth reblogging at all

(apologies if typos, spellcheck doesn't work anymore on desktop and I'm dyslexic)

I am becoming aware of the effect a lack of trust in the media has had on people, paired with a dearth of research skills.

[heesimp]

tasty (teaser) - heeseung

summary: it’s not your week and it doesn’t seem like the semester will ease up on you as time flies by, but your best friend is here to help in more ways than one.

word count estimate: 5.6K (891 for the teaser)

notes: let me know if you want to be tagged :) this is based off of a request an anon sent, so thank you anon! I’ll probably post it tonight or tomorrow. xx

warnings: reader touches herself, porn mentions, vibrator mention, phone sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talking, mentions of heeseung with other girls, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

posted!

Heeseung isn’t shy about physical touch with you or anyone else. He’s the kind of guy girls feel comfortable around with just a few words spoken and you’ve always envied the way Heeseung can talk his way through anything. People love him, girls want to fuck him, and guys want to be like him. There’s a part of you that wishes you could exude the same aura that your best friend does but, unlike him, you cower at any chance of interaction and can’t seem to get anyone to be interested in you the way you’re interested in them. Heeseung has heard your fair share of love debacles whereas it seems like romance is presented to him with the snap of a finger. 

It isn’t that you haven’t had experiences with sex and dating, but they haven’t been worthwhile. So far, nobody has been memorable enough to keep in your backpocket for days like this, when you need a hot and erotic memory to come in an instant. It feels impossible to find guys who know what they’re doing when a woman is presented in front of them. Guys are so lucky because it takes next to nothing to get them hard and get them off. 

And like, your best friend has had his fair share of hookup stories that leave you wetter than a goddamn fountain. He’s not shy about skimping the details because he’s seen you cry snot since kindergarten and you’ve seen him eat shit on bicycles since elementary school. Sex isn’t off the table. You just don’t have anything to contribute and he doesn’t judge you for it. You aren’t really keen on telling him about all of the bad experiences you’ve had when he talks about how mind blowing sex for him is. Part of you is envious that your best friend has never had one bad day of sex in his life. Allegedly. 

Still, this frustration bubbles up and there’s nothing you can do to quell the way you feel. Perhaps it’s a mix of general life stress and the events leading up to this very moment. The entire day felt like a test to your patience as minor inconveniences piled up on top of one another before your breaking point. You thought your vibrator sitting uncharged was your last straw but it seems like your mind isn’t clear enough to focus on getting off. You recall a few unread text messages from Heeseung and open your shared text thread with him and watch all of the funny TikTok videos and tweets he sends you. You’re missing him right now. 

Heeseung answers after one ring. 

“Back from the dead, I see. What’s up?” 

You huff. “Nothing.” You hear him laughing from the other line. The faint sound of his keyboard clicking echoes in your ears. 

“Can’t be nothing. You always call me when you need to tell me something.” 

“Not true.”

“Y/N, you and I both know you prefer to talk on the phone when you have something important you need to say so neither of us ends up sending long voice memos.” Okay, he’s got you there. “So begs the question: What’s up?”

“Well I called you because I’m bored. Happy?”

Heeseung laughs again. You’re sure he can hear your disdain. “It’s a good thing I know how to deal with your attitude, huh? Since you’re bored, I’ll have you know you’re calling me while I’m playing with the guys.”

“What, no girl to hook up with?” 

“Not tonight, princess.” 

“How sad.” 

“If you must know why, I had a pretty long day at work but I’m fine now. Jake’s ass keeps dying so that’s pretty funny.” You don’t say anything, not right away. Not when you realize you called him in a haste and that you’re naked except for a tank stop and dainty white socks. The realization makes your cheeks heat up as you think about it, even though Heeseung can’t see what you’re wearing. “You good? You’re unusually quiet, especially when you give me attitude.” That makes you roll your eyes.

“You know, it’s unfair that all you have to do to get off is brush your hand against your dick.”

“Where’s this coming from? You don’t really talk about sex. Is everything alright?”

“It’s unfair!” He hears you groan in frustration. You’re somewhat annoyed he’s still typing away on his gaming keyboard.

“Y/N…Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

That question alone seems to ease your mind a little as your irritation bubbles over the surface. You couldn’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried. You tell Heeseung everything, good and bad, and he won’t relent until he knows you’re okay. But even this is treading into new territory. It isn’t that you haven’t noticed just how attractive your best friend has gotten since you met him for the first time as kids, but it’s the first time you’ve ever acknowledged it while talking to him. 

“I can’t get myself off.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. You don’t hear the sound of his keyboard anymore.

“What?”

“Heeseung…”

“No, say it again.” 

Suddenly, you’re starting to regret calling him to complain about something like this. You feel like you might as well be diving into the depths of your secrets.

“I can’t get myself off.”

[meo-eiru]

I kinda like the small yet big detail in the game, like I'm sure myself and some other people were expecting a wholesome dating sim that would also get quite spicy (FROM HOW WE KNOW MERU)

And we all just kinda got kicked in the butt, like Starling being too hot to be true yet so terrifying at the same time, but not the terrifying kind that we know, like Micah or Silas etc

More like the type that makes you forget that he still is more a siren than a merman, like he successfully managed to lure in the whole community with his hot ass😭😭and then we get backstabbed by him munching our fingers off as if they're some carrots, like as a simple lunch snack-💀💀

Or in the other ending where it's basically simply Mae dying and getting turned into a possession and probably just another body to fill up with tongues

From my interpretation, Starling doesn't really have that kind of romantic interest in Mae, but she kinda thought it could go into that direction, but then got stabbed in the back like that😭😭(probs everyone who played it, thought like Mae there too kinda💀so we all got the betrayal🙁)

And you guys did a really good job in simply catching us all off guard in most scenes, it's it's beautifully written and drawn, I love that game so much!!!

Spoilers for the game

Honestly maybe Sel would give a different answer but I do think Starling likes Maelyn. Due to his past and what he has now become his way of showing it is probably different, but for Starling I don't think Maelyn is just another body for storing tongues. If that was the case he wouldn't have went out of his way to clean her body up, find a wedding dress and "marry" her in his own makeshift way.

He probably didn't even view it as a betrayal. Because until the very end Starling was making sure the no longer breathing Maelyn could be comfortable in her pearl necklace.

For the writing style, probably Sel writing the story played a big part in this.

Sel and I have very similar tastes in a lot of things, on levels I myself can't believe sometimes. But we do have a different style at how we depict similar concepts.

I love presenting dark stories on a silver platter. Prettied up with the most delicious icings and shiniest sprinkles. I like my stories and characters to look beautiful. Enjoy them while thinking you're just having whimsy adventures only to realize you're done for once you truly look. Like Silas. It's easy to make fun of him, forget the things he is capable of doing as you're too busy enjoying his silliness. He feels safe, a gentle giant who loves and takes care of you.

But he's still a man who has forced himself on you not only physically but also mentally. Trapped and limited you beyond belief. No electricity, no internet, no contact with anyone other than him. Only talking to him, only feeling him, only knowing him, only consuming him. A beautiful and sweet man no human mind can handle for more than a few weeks.

But Sel, from what I've seen, is a bit different. She doesn't shy away from showing the darkness and scariness of the stories she makes. Before you even know it you'll be facing concepts you didn't think could be possible.

And not only that, she hides so much under every word she uses. Often times the things she places in front of you are not even the scariest parts. The more you read and the more you decipher they get deeper.

I'm frankly a big fan of the things she writes. They often leave me flabbergasted (and mortified, she knows what I mean) but they are also so so fun. So scary yet beautifully poetic.

I know she doesn't like being under the spotlight that much. But ever since I met her and saw her stories I wanted more people to get the chance to see and appreciate them the way they deserved. I think they are truly special, and they make me want to do my best to illustrate them in the perfect way possible.

Honestly I'm not sure if I'm good enough at it, but if it helps the stories reach more people I'm happy with it.

I don't know if she'll read this post so that's why I'm being sappy like this but I genuinely hope you guys like her stories like I do. And I hope both you and I can see more and more of it.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | may i have this dance?

♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, The Boy, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; none really!!

♡notes; this popped into my brain the other day and i thought we were due for some fluff. i’m writing part two congruently so that’ll be posted soon too!!

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Micheal Myers

> Micheal Myers does not dance

> He doesn’t know how, and he doesn’t want to learn

> But like with a lot of things, you get him to bend his rules

> He has a habit of looming in doorways to watch you

> At first it’s disconcerting, but you learn it’s just how he is

> So you pay him no mind as he’s watching you dance around the kitchen to some song that’s too popular for him to know

> Sweet and silly and carefree…

> He clicks the speaker off with a quiet huff

> “Hey, I was listening to that-“ You pout

> He rolls his eyes and puts on something a bit more to his taste

> And before you can playfully complain any more, he wraps his arms around you from behind and sways softly

> It takes a second for you to process it- he’s not normally so…gentle

> But in his own weird little way, he’s dancing with you

> He tenses a bit when you turn around- he’s embarrassed but would never admit it- but when you kiss his cheek he relaxes and gives a quiet hum

>And he keeps swaying as you lay your head on his chest

>Just for you, as long as you don’t tell anyone…Micheal Myers does dance. Just a little.

Thomas Hewitt

> Thomas doesn’t think about dancing

> He’s seen it on TV, read about it in books…but the Hewitts aren’t really the dancing types

> Nearest thing to dancing that he can think of ever doing is being held by his mama, when she’d sing and rock him when he was hurt or upset

> And it’s been a long time since anyone could hold him like that

> But one day you’re upset- he doesn’t know why but you burst into tears the moment he walked in, and it has him in a tizzy

> He quickly scoops you up, checking for any injuries but…nothing. You’re just crying and he hates seeing you like that

> So he does what used to make him feel better

> He can’t sing- or at least won’t, his words are always few and far between- but he hums, low and rumbling in his chest

> As he holds you and slowly sways you start to calm down

> You sniffle and all of the sudden giggle

> “Thomas Hewitt; are you dancin’ with me right now?”

> He looks confused but slowly nods as he thinks about it

> “Well thank you. I needed this.”

> He nuzzles you and continues until you’re calm- and far after that if you’ll let him

Bubba Sawyer

> As we know, Bubba is a very sheltered fellow, but he does like dancing!

> He’s not particularly coordinated but he doesn’t need much coaxing to twirl you around and around

> He’ll dance without music, humming a nonsense tune to you, maybe even whistling

> And if you sing to him he can’t help grinning and giggling

> It’s not uncommon for him to sway and spin with you in the living room if the radio got left on

> And he gets shy when you’re caught by one of his brothers

> “Bubba you stop wasting time, you little—“

> You cock your hip and give Drayton a cold look

> “Oh, I’m a waste of time now, cook?”

> Like always a smart remark goes a long way with Drayton, the twins immediately “oooh”ing and teasing him as he flusters

> Soon enough he’s chasing them out cursing and wielding a pair of tongs

> Leaving you and Bubba forgotten and free to sneak off and continue your fun in peace

Vincent Sinclair

> You’d have to ask

> Probably more than once, honestly

> Vincent is an artistic man, that’s not a doubt in the slightest- but he’s not even a little interested in anything that involves performance

> But you have a way of getting your way with him

> “Vince baby?”

> “…”

> “Pretty please?”

> “…”

> “If we take pictures then you can paint us.”

> He perks up a bit and you know you’ve got him

> “Cmon silly!” You drag him into the house of Wax, camcorder in hand

> Having gotten that far, you finally realize you don’t particularly know how to dance either, not really

> But you don’t tell him that, instead turning on the music and pulling him against you

> You’re clumsy and awkward and adorable as you spin around with him, not even a bit embarrassed

> He isn’t sure the reference stills are usable, but he’s more than happy the sweet moment on camera

Brahms Heelshire

> Brahms treats you like royalty- whatever you want is yours

> So if you say you’d like to go dancing, he is more than happy to arrange something

> Though of course, he doesn’t like leaving home… no matter. There’s plenty of room in the manor

> He makes a date out of it- he’s prone to making dates out of lots of silly things

> Silly or not, it’s sweet, and as always you fawn over him and praise him for the thoughtfulness

> He even bought you a cute outfit for the occasion - he loves dolling you up (pun slightly intended)

> After setting the music he bows and offers his hand- being a rich brat he knows a bit of ballroom dancing

> He’s more than happy to teach you, humming “1-2-3” with your steps

> But he’s laughing and giggling and just can’t stop gushing over how cute you are

> So if you fall into slow dancing like it’s the prom, he doesn’t mind

> Any dance with you is more than he can ask for

[geekgirles]

And let's not forget how people tend to conveniently leave out the fact that while Marinette's jealousy prompted her to spy on Adrien and Lila in the library, what really kickstarted the actual plot (Lila stealing the Grimoire, buying the necklace, claiming to be Volpina and insulting Ladybug to the point of the superheroine tearing her a new one causing her akumatisation...) was actually Lila's own jealousy over Ladybug.

For all the episode's flaws, it did a good job establishing the kind of character Lila was going to be right off the bat: an attention seeking liar and an abhorrent admirer for Adrien who isn't above disregarding his boundaries or invading his personal space.

Having said that, at that point she had been shown to be far from an ideal person, but not irredeemably evil like her later self. And though she did use implicitly dishonest methods to get closer to Adrien—such as dragging him off to a more private place so it can just be the two of them or trying to evoke a commonality collection by pretending to be interested in superheroes—, most of her actions up until that point were fairly harmless.

In regards to Adrien. She had already harmed her classmates and Ladybug's credibility by lying through her teeth just to be popular.

Up until that point, while definitely not honest, Lila's tactics to get closer to Adrien were relatively realistic. After all, we have all seen the "lying about shared interests" trope at least once in our life, and we might have even employed it ourselves at some point.

It wasn't until the topic of Ladybug was brought up that things took a turn for the worse.

At first, upon seeing Adrien's book Lila just seemed to be faking interest, just like she looked genuinely surprised to see Ladybug pictured there. But the moment Adrien expressed awestruck admiration for the heroine, that's when Lila's entire façade changes. Literally. She goes from looking surprised to sporting a nasty scowl to acting all sugary-sweet right after as she fishes for more information on Adrien's crush to use to her advantage.

And because she can't stand to be shown up by anyone, even if they're not even in the room, she went and started downplaying Ladybug's accomplishments even back then. Claiming that a girl doesn't need to a costume to be amazing, only to prove she's a hypocrite by setting out to become amazing by claiming she isn't just actually good friends with the costumed girl but, would you look at that, she's a costumed girl herself!

Lila: Ladybug! Adrien:(sighing) She's amazing. Lila: A girl doesn't need to wear a costume to be amazing, you know. (scoots her seat closer to Adrien) Adrien: Uh, I don't know—I mean, I— Lila: So you've got a little soft spot for the bug, huh? Adrien: Me? Oh, no! Not at all! (The book cart moves closer to them, but is unnoticed.) Lila: You know I actually happen to be very close friends with Ladybug. (Adrien and Marinette both gasp.) Adrien: Really?! Lila: We can chat about it if you want. Not here though. Why don't we meet at the park after school and I'll tell you everything.

That's why Lila stole Adrien's book. That's why she bought the necklace and came up with the whole Volpina thing. And that's why she kept on insulting Ladybug in order to make herself look better (other than to distract Adrien long enough so he wouldn't notice his missing book, that is). Because the moment Adrien expressed romantic interest in Ladybug, Lila became seethingly jealous and desperate to get him to stop paying attention to the superheroine and to focus on her.

Marinette's jealousy actually played a very small role in the episode overall, it was just meant to get her in the right place at the right time so Tikki would see the Grimoire and urge her to follow them to the park in order to retrieve it. From then on, Marinette's actions were a direct result of Lila crossing way too many lines at once. Absolutely everything else that happened can be linked back to Lila growing jealous of Ladybug and trying to have Adrien all for herself.

Everything that happened was Lila's own fault.

Wait, I was reading your posts and came across something I've found confusing. How is Adrien asking Ladybug wth she is doing in Volpina a bad thing? From Adrien's perspective, Ladybug's a celebrity tracking down a middle schooler with zero clout and humiliating her for lying about meeting her before. That's, uh yeah? Imagine if that happened irl lmao. Millions of teenage girls would perish at 1D's hands. My middle school would be a horror story. And it's made clear multiple times in the episode that her motivation is jealousy. It's one of the few episodes where the lesson Marinette gets makes sense I think, because she was genuinely spiteful in shitting on this random girl in front of her crush. That's significantly different than Ladybug just asking for a retraction from the Ladyblog. It's also one of the few times when Adrien's celebrity background actually affects how he acts, and it makes sense that Marinette doesn't make the connection between superhero=celebrity=not allowed to scream at middleschoolers in public. If half the kids in her school didn't lie about meeting Ladybug before, my suspension of disbelief is gone.

I've seen this argument before and it makes no sense to me, especially in the context of the lie that Lila actually told and the way the Lila confrontation actually goes down. A lot of people who have this take seem to think that Lila's lie was, "Ladybug saved me," and that Ladybug made a big public confrontation which is not what canon actually gave us. The confrontation was done in a mostly private setting and, while we never see Lila's full Ladyblog interview, this is how Ladybug sums up the interview in Volpina:

Ladybug:(sarcastically) Well hey Lila! How's it going? Long time no see. I saw your interview on the Ladyblog, awesome job. Oh sure! I remember our instant connection when I saved your life and we've been really good friends ever since! Practically BFF's! Uh actually, when did I save your life again, Lila? I don't recall. Oh yes! Of course, now I remember. Never! And we're not friends either! Miss Show-Off here was trying to impress you and everyone around her.

Lila didn't just lie about meeting Ladybug, she lied about having an ongoing, close relationship with Ladybug, two very different things. And Ladybug isn't just a celebrity, she's a superhero who is fighting an active terrorist. If I had to rewrite this confrontation, I'd keep it pretty much the same and just change the "Miss Show-Off" line to something like:

Miss Show-Off here was trying to impress you and everyone around her, putting herself and all of you at major risk! You know that Hawkmoth would do anything to get these, right? (gestures at her earrings) Did you even stop to think about what he'd do if he learned the identity of my supposed best friend? Of course not. You were too busy trying to look cool to stop and think things through like an actual superhero! We keep our identities and relationships secret for a reason!

Is this the kindest, most gentle way to confront someone like Lila? No, but it's very in character for Marinette to be filled with righteous fury when she sees someone using her name for their own personal gain. I really can't blame her for getting incredibly angry at this total stranger presenting herself as a Ladybug authority and using that authority to manipulate Marinette's friends. As I've said before, take away the crush complication and Marinette's actions still make total sense to me.

I'm not a huge proponent of virtue ethics. That's the idea that you need proper motivation for an act to be morally justified. If you do the right thing for the wrong reason, then the act is bad no matter how good the results and vice versa. If you view the world that way, then sure, you could possibly argue that Marinette's actions were wrong just like you can also argue that Gabriel's actions were totally fine, but I don't view the world that way. Switch Marinette's motivation from jealousy and a little righteous fury to pure righteous fury and almost nothing changes. She'd still need to confront Lila, the words would just be a little different.

It's not like this confrontation stops Lila, either. Chameleon gives us this:

Lila: (in flashback) Not only did Ladybug save my life, we've become very close friends. Marinette: She lies with every breath. Nino: Wait. You eavesdropped on Lila and Adrien? That's not cool. Alya: A good reporter always verifies her sources. Can you prove she doesn't actually know Ladybug?

Quick mini rant before I give the next Chameleon quote: this isn't how verifying your sources works, Alya! You should be verifying that Lila does know Ladybug, not the other way around! Right now, Marinette and Lila have equal authority on the topic as far as you know and there is no evidence to support either claim, so you should be looking for proof that Lila isn't lying! Proof isn't a first come, first serve problem even though a lot of people fall into that trap. This is especially true since Lila goes on to make claims like this:

Lila: Of course Ladybug saved my life. She never misses an opportunity to rescue her best friends. Max: Didn't your tinnitus give you vertigo when you went up the Eiffel Tower? Lila: Oh no. Ladybug knows me so well that she brought me an earplug to stick in my right ear.

So Lila keeps right on lying about her relationship with Ladybug, presenting them as close friends, making it even harder for me to get on the "Marinette was in the wrong for privately confronting Lila" train. If anything, Marinette was too tame! She needed to go full scorched earth and have Alya post a public retraction that included a message about the dangers of claiming to be personal friends with someone you don't actually know.

If the show went that route and had Ladybug give an equally furious smack-down and Alya posted it without a second thought, THEN I'd probably be on team "Marinette needed to tone herself down because she went too far" because that isn't a heat-of-the-moment reaction. It's something Marinette would have time to think through. But Volpina didn't go there. Instead, we just get Marinette reacting live to someone using her name to flirt with her crush. Remember, this is the setup to Marinette transforming and jumping in to stop Lila:

Lila: Not only did Ladybug save my life, we've become very close friends because we have something very special in common- it's what I wanted to tell you about. I'm the descendant of a vixen superheroine myself, Volpina. Adrien: Volpina? Marinette: Volpina? Adrien: Wait a minute! I think I read about her in my book. Lila:(stopping him from grabbing the book) Of course she's in your book. She's one of the most important superheroes. More powerful and more celebrated than Ladybug. Between you and me Ladybug doesn't even make the top ten. My grandma gave me this necklace. [Marinette runs off to transform] Adrien: (holding Lila's necklace) Are you telling me this is a Miraculous?! (Ladybug lands in front of them)

This wasn't a planned confrontation. It was Marinette reacting live to some pretty massive lies. If Ladybug had been swinging by and just overhead this, then the scene once again wouldn't change much. That's why blaming Marinette for confronting Lila in the "wrong way" feels so victim blame-y to me. "How dare Ladybug not be perfectly poised at all times and react with grace when someone lies about being her close friend and teammate!" is not a take I'm ever going to agree with. And if you want to use the middle schooler defense? Then it applies to Marinette, too. She and Lila are the same age. Why the different standards just because Marinette has fame that she never asked for or sought out?

I've never been much of a fan of holding celebrities to an "always on" standard where their every interaction needs to be done with poise and grace even if the interaction happens out in the wild and not at a planned even where the celebrity can be mentally prepared for dealing with fans. That's extra true for accidental celebrities like Ladybug. Marinette didn't take up the earrings for fame and they certainly haven't brought her fortune, plus she has no PR training. Expecting her to be a PR master who knows how to handle her accidental fame is, once again, a little too victim blame-y for my tastes. Ladybug is here to save the world, not sign autographs. You can hold her to politician standards when you start paying her for risking her life on the daily.

There's a version of Lila where I would have a different take. A version where the lie really is minor and Marinette really did "overreact", but even there my lesson wouldn't be "Marinette was totally in the wrong" because I genuinely think that sends the wrong message to kids and kids are the show's target audience. Think about what you're actually saying here, "Because Marinette is famous, she needs to accept that people will lie about her and just ignore them even if people believe the lie."

While that isn't exactly a wrong take, it's still really messed up. It's not okay for people to use Marinette's name like that just because she's famous. The reason she needs to learn to let it go is because that's what's best for her mental health, not because her fame makes her lesser than others when it comes to things like personal privacy. The lies are not magically okay just because she's well known.

Remember, Marinette is a fictional character, but the kids watching this show are very real and they're way more likely to be Lilas than Marinettes. And the kids that do relate to Marinette in this episode? They'll be kids who have dealt with the rumor mill spreading lies about them or their friends without the celebrity complication. The show should not be telling either set of kids that Marinette is the one in the wrong here. That is the wrong moral and why I hate this episode so much. I might feel differently if the intended audience was teens and if this plot was allowed to be more complex, but none of that is true. The show is aimed at kids ages 5 to 12 and every episode is supposed to teach its own moral with Volpina's moral being "Marinette was explicitly and totally in the wrong here."

This is the age of internet personalities where there are more easily-accessible celebrities than ever and where many of them do not have the wealth needed to protect themselves from fans nor the PR training to know how to handle extreme fans if there even is PR training for that! That means that it's honestly really important for kids to learn to view these individuals as people who it's wrong to lie about and who deserve the same respect as non-famous people. Treating celebrities as public commodities is how we get things like the Kit Connor scandal where an 18-year-old actor felt forced to publicly come out because the internet wouldn't shut up about his sexuality. Oh, and since you brought up one direction, I'll also note that the band members have publicly stated that online shipping discourse has negatively impacted their relationships. So, yeah, I'm never going to agree that kids should be told that it's okay to lie about celebrities or treat them as fictional characters to play with and that the celebrities are the ones who are wrong if they get upset about that behavior. That shit is toxic.

If we go the "minor" lie route, then my version of this episode would be a very sad one where Marinette learns that people are going to ignore her boundaries and lie about her and there's nothing she can do about it. A lesson in mental health training that will hopefully help kids who are dealing with bullies, but that does not present Marinette as totally in the wrong. It just teaches her when to pick a fight and when to let it go, which is a very important skill to learn even outside of lies about your own person. There will be many times when you hear people say something that you vehemently disagree with and it's important to learn when to pick a fight and when to just let it go, knowing that no good will come from speaking up even if you're 100% in the right. It's a very sad, but also very necessary skill.

I think Adrien has a place in that story. A place where he still tells Ladybug to let it go, but it should NOT have been played the way it was in canon where he acted like Ladybug was totally out of line. He needed to be way more compassionate and understanding of her very justified anger. I've written Adrien giving advice on this topic before and it's always presented as, "people are going to be assholes and you have to learn to ignore them for your own well being," not as, "you are wrong to be upset about strangers telling lies about you. You agreed to deal with this when you decided to be a hero" because what kind of asinine lesson is that?

You could also keep Adrien's canon reaction and have the lesson be him learning that it's okay to have boundaries. That his fame doesn't negate his bodily autonomy and right to be treated with dignity. That people chasing him down, invading his personal space, and otherwise preventing him from living a normal life is wrong. I love it when fanfics take this approach to Adrien's part in the Lila conflict. It's very cathartic to see his friends supporting him and protecting him from Lila.

I really have tried to see Volpina from the "Marinette was totally in the wrong" perspective because I've come across it several times, but I just can't wrap my head around it. If you've got a counter argument, then feel free to try to change my mind because I've given you my full thoughts here, but know that I'm probably not budging on this one. You'd have to make some pretty dramatic changes to canon for me to feel like this take has a point. I think the only way that I'd be on Lila's side is if it was very clear that no one believed Lila and Marinette still had the same reaction that we see in canon as that does feel like going too far. But everyone believed Lila so that's not a solid argument and I'm just never going to agree that people have to be cool with others lying about them just because they're famous. I honestly despise celebrity culture so much and hate that people are basically forced to deal with that bullshit if they want to be successful in certain artistic fields.

[daryltwdixon]

Daryl x Reader

season 1 Daryl

MDNI: smut

inspo: @heathermason6060's inexperienced Daryl & this ao3 story

notes: I barely proofread this after my first reread sorry

Ever since you’d joined the group—a girl they found out in Atlanta around the same time they brought Rick back—you didn’t fully fit in with anyone. People never really knew how to talk to you, and every conversation anyone overheard was always short and clipped. Maybe you were shy, or maybe still getting over something lost when the world turned upside down. But Daryl watched you—always watching, weirdly drawn to you in a way that he couldn’t figure out.

That feeling, whatever it was, twisted his stomach every time he got close. He didn’t know what it was, only that he wanted to be near you, wanted to catch even the smallest glance or word. Hell, he didn’t even need to be close; the thought of you was enough to send his stomach into knots.

After a while, he even started to wonder what it’d be like to talk to you beyond the short words you’d exchanged about ammo or food or anything survival-related. He thought about what the hell he’d even say, what you might like to talk about, but every time he tried to picture it, he went blank. His older brother wasn’t exactly the type to teach him how to talk to women; Merle had his own ways that usually ended up with people pissed off or storming off, and Daryl wasn’t about to mess this up by being like that. He’d be careful. Real careful.

One night, the fire is burning low, and everyone else has already drifted to their tents. Daryl sits by the embers, debating whether he should finally head back to his tent now that he’s alone—just him and the dying fire. It feels odd not having Merle around to tell him where to be and when. He has to figure out what he actually wants to do instead of just being in the man’s shadow. Just as he’s about to call it a night, you appear from your tent, looking restless and rubbing at your eyes. When you notice him sitting alone, you pause, then make your way over to him and sit down—not across from him but, to his horror and excitement, right beside him on the log. His stomach lurches, something strange twisting as he glances at the way the moonlight catches the curve of your thigh, making him wonder—just for a second—what your skin might feel like beneath his fingers.

You sigh beside him. “Can’t sleep,” you mutter, groaning a little as you rub the heels of your hands into your eyes. When you drop them, you give him a tired, curious look. “What’re you still doin’ out here?”

Daryl swallows, caught off guard. You’ve never really talked to him directly before, and he peels his eyes away from your thigh, feeling his cheeks burn a little when he realizes you’ve caught him staring. He shrugs, muttering something about ‘keeping watch’ under his breath.

You just nod, and he figures the conversation is over. But then, you pull a near-empty pack of cigarettes from your back pocket and slip one between your lips, flashing a faint smile to yourself.

“Look what I found today,” you say casually, shaking the box, sparking his interest as you glance at him. “Still got that lighter?” You nod toward his jeans, and his hand shoots to his pocket, rubbing his clammy fingers against the fabric before pulling out his Zippo. He holds it up, flicking the fire to life, watching your lips purse as you pull the smoke from the cigarette into your mouth, igniting the small stick. He catches the faintest scent of you, something clean—crisp apples, maybe from the soap found on the run today—despite the dirt and sweat of this life. His hand shakes slightly as the flame catches, and the tip of your cigarette glows bright.

You pull back, taking a long drag and exhaling softly through your nose. “Thanks,” you say, the word quiet, almost lazy, savoring the feeling. You hold the pack out to him, and he hesitates for a second before taking one, avoiding the brush of your fingers.

He slips the cigarette between his lips and flicks the lighter again, but this time the spark sputters out before a flame can catch. He flicks it a few more times, his hand trembling harder now under your quiet gaze. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, trying again. Nothing.

“Here,” you say, your voice calm but amused as you gesture for him to lean in. “Hold still.”

Daryl freezes, the cigarette twitching slightly between his lips as he says, “What’re ya—”

“I won’t bite, Daryl,” you tease gently, cutting him off with a faint smirk. The way you say his name, soft and easy, sends a jolt through him, like you’ve said something far more intimate. His knees would probably buckle if he were standing, but he stays rooted to the spot, barely breathing as you scoot closer.

You bring your lit cigarette up to his, the glowing tip inches from his mouth. He leans in stiffly, his lips fidgeting as he tries to hold still, but his hands won’t stop trembling, and the two cigarettes don’t quite line up. You huff a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly.

“Hold on,” you murmur, and before he can say anything, your free hand comes up to steady his chin. His breath catches as your fingers brush against the stubble on his jaw, tilting his face just enough to keep him from moving any more. Your touch is light, careful, but it’s enough to make him go completely still, his heart hammering in his chest.

As he pulls the cigarette to life, your eyes catch his, and suddenly your hand feels like it’s on fire. You wrench it away as quickly as you can, your body leaning back with it. His gaze, still fixed on you, is wide and unguarded, staring at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. The embers of your cigarettes glow softly between you in the dark night air, catching in his wild blue irises, and for a moment, the world feels far too still.

You clear your throat, exhaling a stream of smoke. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you feel…” You trail off, uncertain of the right word. Uncomfortable? Creeped out?

Daryl doesn’t move. He keeps staring at you, the cigarette held tightly between his lips, as if he’s stunned. Then, he pulls in another breath, his mouth opening slightly, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. You catch the faintest flush rising along his neck, and you feel yourself brighten under his gaze as well.

“It’s fine,” he finally mutters, his voice rough and low, though now he’s avoiding your eyes, not quite meeting your gaze. He fumbles with the cigarette, taking another drag just to give himself something to do.

The tension between you lingers, the fire starting to die softly in the background, but neither of you speaks again. You lean back, pretending to focus on the stars, while he shifts uncomfortably beside you, his eyes darting between the fire and your profile.

Somewhere in the quiet, he exhales slowly, the smoke curling lazily in the moonlight, and though he doesn’t say it out loud, he knows he’s never going to forget the feeling of your fingers on his skin—or the way you’ve looked at him like he isn’t just another face in the group.

Daryl’s knee bounces restlessly as he tries to keep his eyes fixed on the embers of the fire in front of him. It’s too damn hard to focus with you sitting so close, your scent mingling with the smoke and pine in a way that makes his head spin. He doesn’t get why it’s so hard to sit still around you; he’s usually good at disappearing into the background, staying quiet. But with you here, just inches away, he feels like he has a spotlight on him.

“You’re quiet,” you say, your voice jolting him from his thoughts. “What’s on your mind, Dixon?”

His head jerks slightly at the sound of his name, and his lips twitch like he’s trying to come up with an answer. “Nothin’,” he mutters, glancing away quickly. “Just… thinkin’, I guess.”

You arch an eyebrow, leaning back slightly against the log. “Thinkin’ about what?”

He knows he should say something to brush you off, but his mind goes blank. The way you’re looking at him, like you’re waiting for him to crack—it makes him feel trapped and exposed all at once. Heat creeps up his neck even hotter, and he curses himself for it.

“Am I making you nervous, Daryl?” you tease, your voice soft but playful, and he hears the smirk in your tone.

He opens his mouth, then shuts it, looking down at his nails as if they might offer some kind of answer. “I just…” He pauses, breathing in sharply. “Ya make it hard to think straight.”

The words come out rough, almost like a confession he hadn’t meant to say out loud, and he feels his whole body tense, waiting for you to laugh, to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you sit up, and he catches a faint smile on your lips.

“Yeah?” Your arms graze against each other as you lean forward, and he sucks in a sharp breath, trying to keep from shivering at the touch. “And why’s that?”

He clenches his jaw, his fingers twitching against his knee, and he’s got half a mind to just stand up and walk away, leave you here with your questions. But the other half of him is rooted in place, feeling like if he gets up and leaves, he’ll never get this chance again.

He doesn’t say anything, just shrugs and continues staring at you, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a fraction of a second before he catches himself and looks away. But in that brief glance, something shifts, and you suddenly realize…Daryl’s actually kinda… beautiful, and maybe it just took you being this close up to realize it fully. It wasn’t the obvious kind of beauty that shouts for attention—it was quieter, layered in ways that drew you in the longer you looked. The roughness of his features, the sharp angles of his jaw, and the slightly crooked bridge of his nose that was imperfectly charming. His eyes, a deep, piercing blue even in the low light, carried a depth, like he could unravel you with just one glance if he let himself.

And then there were the softer details—the curve of his lips, perpetually chapped from him always chewing them, but so inviting; the faint freckles scattered across his sun-kissed skin, like a map of every moment he’d spent under the open sky. There was a rugged cuteness in the way his hair fell across his forehead, messy and untamed, framing his face in a way that made you ache to reach out and brush it back. He was all contradictions—rough and tender, guarded and vulnerable—and somehow, that only made him more beautiful. He’s rough around the edges, sure, all grit and wary glances, but there’s something genuine about him that you haven’t seen in anyone else since the world fell apart.

Unlike the others, he’s the only one who doesn’t bristle when you’re a little short with him, the only one who just lets you be, never pushing too hard, never asking for anything. You’d caught him glancing at you more than once, his cheeks turning red as he quickly looked away, and it had left you wondering what it’d be like to close the space between you, to see if he’d keep up that quiet shyness even if you got a little closer. So far, it seems he would.

Before you feel yourself hesitate, you lean in and press your lips to his. 

Whatever had come over you in that instant, Daryl has no idea. His mind reels at how you could possibly want this from him. People didn’t look at him like that. Hell, they barely looked at him at all unless they needed something. He isn’t the kind of man anyone leaned into, let alone kissed like this.

The kiss is soft, tentative, testing, but the moment your mouth meets his, it’s like something inside him snaps. He goes still, his breath catching, and for a second, you think he might run for the hills.

But instead, he kisses you back, a little clumsy, his lips pressing against yours like he’s not sure he’s doing it right. But you don’t pull away, don’t dare laugh, and slowly, he finds himself leaning into you, his hand rising to rest lightly on your leg, the touch electrifying your core. You make a soft noise against his lips, and it sends a shiver down his spine, his fingers tightening a bit where they’re touching you.

When he finally pulls back, his mind’s spinning, like he can’t quite wrap his head around what just happened. Your eyes meet his, and there’s this soft look on your face, like you’re amused and happy all at once.

“I… uh…” He stammers, his voice rough, and he feels his face burning.

“You maybe wanna mess around?” you ask, breathless, the words slipping out before you have time to second-guess yourself. There’s a growing need deep in your belly that you can’t ignore, a heat that’s been building ever since you noticed the way his eyes kept flicking to you, his gaze soft yet uncertain.

Daryl’s cuteness catches you off guard every time you look at him—especially now, with the moonlight casting shadows across his face, highlighting the angles of his jaw, the softness in his eyes, the way he almost looks like he doesn’t know he’s handsome. 

His eyes go wide, and for a moment, he just stares at you, like he's not sure he heard you right. He is absolutely sure you can hear his heart pounding against his ribs, the blood pumping harder in his veins as his mind short circuits. His mouth opens, then shuts again, and he looks away, eyes on the ground as his brows furrow. He pulls the cigarette to his lips again, smoke sucking in between his teeth before he exhales sharply. He quickly looks back up to you, your eager, warm face still waiting for his response. 

"Uh..." He clears his throat, the tips of his ears turning red. "You... you serious?"

You can't help but smile, the shyness in his voice only making him more endearing. "Only if you want to," you murmur, letting your fingers trail over his kneecap, feeling the way he tenses under your touch. "Could be fun. Don't have to overthink it."

Your body was practically begging him to jump your bones, but he doesn’t seem to realize that. Didn’t seem to know the signs of clear hunger and want and need. Your fingers brushing his leg itched to feel more, but you kept yourself still–careful with him. 

Daryl swallows and lets out a shaky breath, his hand trembling slightly as it pushes his cigarette into the earth, snuffing it out and unsure of what to do next. His eyes dart up to yours, and there's a vulnerability there as he nods, unable to form the words.

He brings his one shaking hand up to cup your jaw, the rough pads of his hands sparking at the feeling of how soft your skin is. You smile again, leaning into his touch, gently closing the space between you while still letting him decide if he wants to continue on.

He does. God, he does. But as he looks at you, there's a flicker of hesitation as he feels the supple skin of your face under his touch, and he's afraid of what you might think if you knew the truth. That he's never had anyone like this before, never been this close, never had anyone look at him with such open want. The only thing he knows about sex is what he's seen in crude memories from Merle's old tapes, scenes filled with empty noises and rough images that look nothing like this.

Nothing like the way you're watching him, with warmth and softness, not a hint of demand.

He brushes his lips against yours, tentative, as if testing his limits. He's nervous, so unsure, but you lean in a little more, feeling his hand tremble as he holds you close, his fingers curling gently around the curve of your jaw. When you let your tongue push out to graze his top lip, he goes utterly still, a shuddering breath escaping him as his restraint crumbles. He deepens the kiss with a sudden hunger, his grip steadying, his hand anchoring you in place, and you’re not sure if it’s to keep you from pulling away or to keep him from running for the hills.

You feel his heart pounding under your hands as you bring them up to rest against his chest, the beat wild and frantic. You fist your hands into the thin fabric, trying in vain to pull him closer, even if you want to let him set the pace. His movements are unpracticed, but there's an intensity in the way he touches you, like he's pouring everything he doesn't know into this moment. You can't help but smile against his lips, his eager, clumsy attempts endearing in a way that only makes you want him more.

His hands shift, and you feel his fingers press against your waist, steadying himself as he moves closer. He's beautiful like this, his strong arms flexing with the movement, shadows tracing along his muscles under the moonlight, and the warmth of his touch sends a surge of heat pooling low in your belly.

The kiss grows more heated, messy, with tongues and teeth clashing as he grows bolder. It’s a little clumsy, but you don’t care. There’s something intoxicating about the way he’s so eager, so intent on exploring your mouth, every hesitant touch of his tongue making you melt further into him. A soft moan slips from your throat when his tongue slides against yours, the sound spilling out before you can stop it.

The noise seems to snag something in him. His breath hitches sharply, and he pulls back, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His forehead rests against yours, warmth radiating between you, and his breaths are hot against your lips, still so close you can feel the faint tremble in him.

When he finally looks at you, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, the sight of him sends a shiver through you. His pupils are blown wide, dark and searching, his mouth slick with shared wetness, lips parted as if he’s about to say something but can’t find the words.

But it’s you who nearly undoes him. Your flushed cheeks, your lips wet and swollen, the half-lidded haze in your eyes—he almost busts right then and there, his previous semi now throbbing from your lips connecting with his. The realization hits him like a lightning strike: he made you look like this. He made you moan. And the thought that you’re enjoying this, maybe enjoying him just as much as he’s enjoying you, leaves his head spinning even more.

Your lips curve into a lazy, teasing smile as your hand finds the nape of his neck, fingers tugging gently at the short strands of his hair. “Let’s move to your tent, yeah?” you murmur, your voice soft but full of intention.

Daryl nods enthusiastically, and without hesitation, he jumps to his feet, his eagerness on full display. For a brief moment, you’re level with his lap, and your gaze flickers to the growing bulge beneath the zipper of his jeans. The sight makes your breath hitch, heat pooling low between your legs as you glance up at him, catching his gaze. He sees where your eyes went, and for the first time tonight, something unbidden sparks in his expression—an almost bold glint as he reaches down, taking your hand and pulling you up with surprising firmness.

You’re silently grateful for the distance Daryl and Merle always kept from the others, their tents off to the side, a little more secluded. You’d still need to be quiet, but at least there’d be no direct neighbors overhearing the sounds you were sure to make.

Inside his tent, the air feels warmer, heavier with anticipation. Daryl sits down quickly, his legs splayed in front of him, uncertainty flashing across his features. He looks at you like he’s bracing himself, his hands fidgeting at his sides, unsure of what comes next. The hesitation in his gaze makes you think this might…all be new to him. You can see the way his throat works as he swallows hard, the thought of what’s about to happen clearly overwhelming him.

You don’t let him overthink it. Your heart pounds as you climb into his lap, straddling him. The heat of his body, the hard line of him pressing against your core through his jeans—it all sends a jolt of need straight through you. Your hands fly to his shoulders for balance, and he groans softly at the friction, his fingers automatically finding your waist, gripping you tightly as if to keep you from pulling away.

The first slow roll of your hips makes his breath stutter, and when you rock against him again, the friction has you both gasping. He leans forward, capturing your lips in a messy, desperate kiss. His tongue is eager, pushing into your mouth like he’s trying to memorize the taste of you, the feel of you, and you let him, your hands threading into his hair. The pull of your fingers against his scalp makes him groan, the sound muffled against your lips as his hands tighten on your waist.

When you pull back, panting, you pause the sway of your hips just long enough to reach for the hem of your shirt. Daryl watches, wide-eyed, as you pull the fabric over your head and drop it to the side. His chest heaves as he stares at you, his gaze flicking between your face and your bare skin. Even though your bra is still on, it’s enough to make his brain stop working.

He doesn’t wait. His lips are on you immediately, pressing against the valley between your breasts, the space his hands haven’t dared to touch yet. His mouth is warm, tentative but eager, as he kisses along the curve of your ribs, moving wherever the fabric of your bra doesn’t block him. When his lips find the sensitive spot at the base of your neck, just where it meets your shoulder, you grind down against him, a soft moan slipping from your lips.

“Daryl,” you whimper, your voice barely above a breath. His lips pause, hovering against your skin as he murmurs against you.

“Yeah?” His voice is a rasp, raw and hoarse, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Please take off your clothes,” you whisper, your words trembling. You pull back slightly, giving him space, and he nods fervently, his hands fumbling to strip himself. His shirt comes off first, revealing the toned, scarred planes of his chest, and then he pushes his jeans down just far enough to free his cock, his hand fisting around himself in relief.

Your eyes drop instinctively, and when you see him, your breath catches. He’s big—almost too much—and you can’t help the way your mouth falls open, the sight making heat bloom through your body. When you finally meet his gaze again, his eyes are locked on you, dark with unspoken hunger. He doesn’t look at your face, though. His attention is fixed lower, on your chest, where your hands are already reaching behind you to unhook your bra.

“C’mere,” you beckon, laying back as you pull the rest of your clothes off. He uses one hand to push your legs apart, to settle himself between your thighs, but as he brings your legs apart, the glistening of your pussy stops him in his tracks. He’s overwhelmed with the primal instinct to bury himself in you one way or another, and he falls in a lying position between your legs, his arms wrapping around your thighs to bring your core to his mouth, his hot breath on your clenching lips. You lean up, propping yourself on your elbows as you watch him. You thought he was beautiful before but this…this view was breathtaking.

His eyes find yours, and he can’t even stop the groan that escapes him when his tongue attaches to your pussy. You throw your head back, a sigh slipping from you as he tries a lot of different menuevers, flattening his tongue and dragging it up and down, flicking it against the hole that he so badly wants to feel inside, but when he simply purses his lips and sucks on the engorged nub at the top of your folds, that’s when you fall from your elbows, and your loudest moan rocking through you. 

You can tell he’s more inexperienced than you expected, but it doesn’t matter to you, because once he got the hint, he went straight to exactly what you needed and craved. His lips were so surprisingly soft against you, his facial hair tickling the insides of your thighs as you clenched your legs around him. You rocked your hips into him, but you needed more. So much more.

You look back down at him then, your chest heaving as you bring your hand up to show him. "Please," you breathe, voice trembling with need. "Finger me–just like this." You curl a finger, then two, demonstrating the movement with a slow, deliberate ‘come-hither’ motion.

His blown-out blue eyes are locked on your hand, his breath catching before he brings his own between your legs. His fingers slip inside so easily, the hot wetness of your walls making him groan low in his throat. His cock twitches against the rough fabric of the tent underneath, but he doesn't touch himself—he's too focused on the way you react to him. When he adds another finger, curling them just as you showed him, your back arches violently, a ragged moan tearing from your throat. Your hand flies to his scalp, fingers digging into his hair, pulling as your hips buck against his mouth.

Daryl's groans grow louder, vibrating against you as his teeth graze your clit, sending shockwaves through your body. He doesn't hold back now-there's something primal in the way he devours you, the sounds he's making raw and desperate. His mouth works you relentlessly, tongue lapping and slurping at your slick heat, each growl reverberating through your core. He's losing himself in you, completely unguarded, no longer caring about keeping quiet or holding back.

The pressure building in your belly snaps all at once, and your vision floods with stars as the orgasm crashes through you. Your body locks into an arch, trembling as your jaw falls slack, a wordless cry spilling out of you. He doesn't stop, doesn't relent, even as you twitch and convulse beneath him. His mouth and fingers work you through your high, dragging every last wave of pleasure out of you until you're trembling from the overstimulation.

"O–okay, okay, okay," you gasp, your voice barely audible as you try to push him away, "you gotta stop, s’too much."

He slows his tongue, dragging his fingers out gently to settle your trembling limbs and presses soft kisses against your sensitive cunt before shifting up, laying himself over you. His arms cage you in on either side of your head, his face hovering close as his lips curve into a lazy smile. His arms tremble slightly, the strain of his own need barely contained, but he doesn't rush you. He just looks at you, drinking in the sight of what he's done to you-your flushed skin, mussed hair, and glassy, blown-out eyes. He searches your face, wondering if this was even real or if it was just a very, very vivid wet dream, and tomorrow he’d wake up to a mess in his pants.

But you lift your head just enough to capture his lips in a slow, heated kiss. He leans on one forearm beside your head, his other hand moving down to his cock, pumping it slowly, dragging the head of it through the slickness he created between your legs. The sensation pulls a soft whimper from you, your sensitive body twitching at the contact. His head falls into the crook of your neck, and you hear his breath stutter, thick and ragged, as he rubs himself against savoring the feeling. Before he follows that animal in him that needs to push into you, he picks his head up, eyes finding yours once again.

“Are—“ his voice breaks, thick with arousal but as he looks down at you, he wants to be sure. Needs to be, “are ya sure ya wanna—?”

“Daryl, if you don’t fuck me right now I might lose my goddamn mind,” you groan, your hands pulling at him in earnest.

A dark chuckle escapes him as he licks his lips and he guides himself into you, taking a moment to find your hole with his inexperienced aim. Your fingers trace over the valleys of his arms, hooking behind his head as you become impatient.

“Dare…” you whimper softly, rolling your hips in frustration as he keeps dragging the head of his cock along your folds.

Daryl’s brow furrows in concentration, his lips pressing into a tight line. You’re just about to reach down to help him when he finally catches the right angle. His breath hitches, his movements clumsy but determined as he pushes forward, the tip of his cock slipping into you.

His jaw goes slack almost instantly, a deep, shaky groan spilling from his throat. Nothing, absolutely fucking nothing he’d ever imagined—not his hand, not spit, not even the filthy images burned into his mind from Merle’s videos—could compare to this. The heat of you, the way your walls grip him, hot and wet and so perfect—it’s almost too much. His forehead drops to your shoulder, and he shudders against you as your back arches to meet him, adjusting to his size. He stays still, whether to let you adjust or to keep from losing himself, you’re not sure, but you’re grateful for the pause as your body stretches to accommodate him.

When you can’t wait any longer, you shift beneath him, rolling your hips slightly. The subtle movement makes him gasp sharply, his fingers tightening on your waist. His forehead presses harder against your shoulder, his breath ragged as he tries to keep control. He pulls back slowly, dragging his cock out of you inch by inch before pushing forward again, his thrusts tentative and uneven.

His groans are low and guttural, spilling out against your neck as he sets a slow, deliberate pace. Each movement sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, and as you grip his shoulders tighter, he seems to take it as encouragement, his rhythm growing a little more confident with every roll of his hips. The way your body responds to him, the way you clutch at him like you don’t want him to stop—it’s overwhelming, almost too much for him to process. Your breath in his ear is hot and heavy, urging him to give you more, to go harder, faster, your begging almost throwing him off so much he nearly cums at the sound of your voice in his ear.

“Daryl, please–” you begin again, but his hand clamps over your mouth.

“Shut. Up.” he growls, squeezing his brows together, jaw tightening. The tension in his voice is raw, desperate. He’s holding on by a thread, trying to make this last, but your pleas are unraveling him too fast. In any other circumstance, you might’ve hit a man for talking to you like that. But the way Daryl is rutting into you, his movements so desperate and hungry, it only causes you to gush around him more. And it seems like he felt it, too.

“Yeah?” he breathes, “You like when I talk to you like that, you dirty whore?” he moans, guttural and breathy. You whimper against him, and he’s surprised the dirty talk even worked, only hearing it in some video he saw once. His mouth finds your neck, his teeth nipping and his lips pressing bruising kisses down your shoulder. One hand clamps tighter on your waist, his grip sure to leave marks, while his other remains firm over your mouth, stifling the moans spilling from you.

His thrusts turn harder, deeper, his hips driving into you with a roughness that has you gasping against his hand. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s biting and sucking on your skin, marking you in a way that will surely leave hickeys. You lift your hips with every push into you, his cock now overwhelmingly bottoming out into you every thrust, skin slapping and animalistic groans coming from both of you. 

When your hand drifts down between your bodies, he sits back on his heels, gripping your hips and pulling you with him to watch. His thrusts slow for a moment as his wide, awestruck eyes follow the trail of your fingers pinching your nipples, then slipping lower to rub your clit.

His jaw drops, his breath coming in sharp pants as he watches you. “Fuck,” he mutters, his voice hoarse and shaky, his pace faltering. The sight of you touching yourself while he’s inside you—while your body stretches to take him—is almost too much for him to handle. He’s never seen anything so fucking perfect, the way his cock slides in and out of you, your juices coating him as you continue to pleasure yourself. To pleasure yourself to the act of him fucking you. Him.

You pick up the pace of your fingers, circling your clit faster as his thrusts grow erratic, his control slipping. He shakes his head slightly, pulling your hand away and replacing it with his own. His rough fingers rub your clit in messy circles, and the look on his face—sweat beading on his forehead, his eyes dark and glassy with need—is enough to send you over the edge, writhing and arching and mewling in ecstasy. The way your walls tighten and flutter around him pulls a strangled sound from his throat. He stutters out one final thrust before following you, a high-pitched moan spilling from his lips as he collapses onto you. He buries his face in your neck again, his body shaking as he empties himself inside you, riding out the waves of his climax with unsteady thrusts. 

Your bodies stick together, sweat mingling as you both fight to catch your breath. He doesn’t move, his weight a comforting pressure as his lips brush lazily against your shoulder. You tilt your head, planting soft kisses along his jaw until you find his lips, kissing him gently, lazily.

“That was…” you breathe, your voice still uneven, “amazing.”

His half-hooded eyes meet yours, a small, almost bashful smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your fingers brushing through his damp hair. “Hopefully not the first and last?”

“Definitely not,” he murmurs, his voice low but sure, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

[boytearscore]

his obsession, her control. — matthew sturniolo.

summary: because ever since he met his brothers' best friend, he hated her to the core by the way she dressed, talked and presented herself. he thought she was just an attention seeker while claiming to be the only immune guy to her dirty games. that is until the morning chris and nick decided to go out and get groceries by themselves, since matt himself refused to drive them to target, he was left all alone with her, unfortunately for the blue eyed boy, his strong belief of being an exception when it comes to fall for her dangerous charm was completely erroneous.

warnings: swearing, teasing/arguing (matt being a jerk mostly), enemies to lovers but sort of he hates her while she finds his tantrums amusing, smut, bratty!matt, blowjob, facefucking, foreplay, agressiveness and a lot of dirtytalk.

author’s note: before y’all start to hate me, i came home from work yesterday and had NO wifi nor data to post the chapter. still, i apologize for the delay. also, comment and tell me what you think about this new plot, the main character is gonna teach you that just because a girl is dominating, doesn’t mean she can’t play the submissive role to get her ways faster. ;)

chapter one.

the girl sighs slowly spreading her legs over the couch, it’s been only ten minutes since chris and nick left and she already felt like melting with boredom, not finding anything or anyone interesting to see or text on her phone.

her eyes shift slowly around the house, stopping right at the door slightly open of matthew’s room, her best friends’ annoying brother. it’s been years and she still didn’t believe they were triplets, how can matt be so awfully different from them? usually she doesn’t interact much with him except when he gives her disappointing and judging glares while they’re both in the same room. instead of angering her, she always finds it amusing and always provoke him until he’s red with anger.

that’s when the brilliant idea pops up in her pretty little head, what if she breaks into matt’s room to make him absolutely lose his shit? that’s enough to entertain her while her best friends are out for a couple hours, right?

while tiptoeing and holding a mischievous laugh, she peeks through the gap to study her target. matt is resting, laying on his bed with hair falling over his eyes and still wearing his pyjamas even though it was afternoon, his arm behind his neck making his muscles visibly flexed by the position, at the same time the other one is placed over his stomach, scrolling on his phone peacefully. 

she stares at his tattoos and the veins of his arm, it wasn’t a secret matt was attractive, in fact, she didn’t feel the need to say otherwise because one; hating him wasn’t a possibility, she couldn’t care less about his childish behavior, it was actually pretty funny and that gave her lots of opportunities to tease him. and two: nothing was more satisfying than seeing his jaw clenched and his bratty attitude rising when she provoked him.

“get out.” he says without looking at the door, being able to feel her presence due to her sweet and addicting scent.

she chuckles, entering and closing the door behind her calmly. “you know… i wasn’t gonna stay but now that you told me to get out...” her exposed legs by the black miniskirt make its way to his bed, sitting on the edge, her smooth skin complimenting the white sheets while her skirt molded perfectly her thighs.

matt rolls his eyes again “i don't care what you do, just don't bother me while i’m trying to relax.” he continues on his phone, not even glancing at the girl’s relaxed figure. “what do you want, anyway? nick and chris had enough of you and now you came here to annoy me? you’re really good at that, you know.“ he smirks sarcastically.

“oh, i’m very aware.” she crawls to the other edge of the bed close to the wall, leaning against it, her legs brushing against his feet slightly without her noticing.

matt, however, did notice it. in fact, his whole shivered body noticed it.

“and don’t pretend like you hate it when i’m here.”

the blue eyed boy scoffs and moves his feet away from her. “oh, i don’t have to pretend, i can barely stand being in the same room as you most of the time.” he sets his phone down and finally looks at her, giving her the a once-over with his typical critical eye, he stares at her tank top and then at her uncovered stomach and thighs. “what’s with the short skirt, huh? trying to impress someone? it’s not like anyone here would be interested in a girl like you, anyway.” matt smirks arrogantly. “especially not me. so you can stop trying so hard, it’s pathetic.”

“it’s fucking 95° degrees.” she replied with her usual nonchalant tone while grabbing her phone to check her lip gloss. “and i wouldn’t be so sure about that, your friends are more than interested. everytime they come here to hangout with you, they spend more time thirsting over me than talking to your boring ass.” she added, drawing her lips with a finger and laughing a little at her own comment at the same time. matt finds himself glazing at her lips, the way she draws her reddish glossy flesh with her finger without a worry, like her moves were calculated. to him, it seemed like she doesn’t feel anything, no matter what he says.

he snaps from the trance, shaking his head and frowning at her words.

his friends indeed spend more time eating her alive with their eyes than paying attention to him when she is around with nick and chris, which made matt crazy with rage. all of the groans and death glares he gives her every single time just proving her point without needing to add much.

matt finally narrows his eyes, anger building inside him little by little. “don’t even fucking start with them. they’re too good for your stupid annoying personality.” he leans back against his headboard, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at the girl pointedly. “it doesnt matter, you’re just asking for attention dressed like that, regardless. typical slutty behavior from a girl like you.” the boy sneers derisively. “probably hoping one of us will bend you over and teach you a lesson, huh? too bad. i have standards, unlike my idiotic friends, apparently... they’ll fuck anything that moves. not me though. i need a real woman, not some immature whore.” he smirks cruelly. “unluckily for you, i’m not interested in sloppy seconds. or thirds.”

oh, the good and old fragile masculinity. the girl smirks, her eyes shifting to dark manner.

“is that so?” she leans over his legs, placing both hands on his tights covered by his grey sweatpants, her long black nails digging slightly into his skin while her penetrating gaze stares at his soul, the boy’s body tensed up and she scoffs. “what’s wrong? are you too insecure to handle a confident woman?” matt freezes for a second almost vocally responding to the sensation of her nails digging into his flesh, he swallows avoiding her eyes with a mix of rage and anticipation.

the girl studies his expression, feeling his tights tensing up more and more underneath her fingers. she bends back to her previous spot laughing quietly, her unbothered expression and nonchalant tone still not changing. “if you think that a piece of fabric defines a woman’s worth then you’re nothing but a virgin little boy who probably gets hard watching cartoons.” she gets up, walking towards the door, turning her head to face him before leaving. “you know… there’s a big difference between being an asshole and just a straight up sexist. i was wrong about you and sadly not in a good way.” she opens the door and closes it behind her, calmly walking to the living room and sitting on the huge white couch once again. the girl unlocks her phone, scrolling without paying attention to the screen. mentally, she was counting the seconds to see matthew’s figure bursting out of his room and scream at the top of his lungs. the corner of her mouth quirked up with excitement.

meanwhile, matthew stares blankly at her ghost in front of him, processing her words. he grits his teeth, face turning red with anger. 

the tall boy jumps up from the bed and storms out of the room after her, heading straight to the living room, her calm and collected mannerism making his neck vein pop up with annoyance. “fuck you! you don't know shit about me!” matt stands in front of the girl, hands on his hips as he glares down at where she sits on the couch. “i’m not insecure nor a virgin, you stupid cunt! and i’m not a little boy either! i’m a grown-ass man who knows what he wants! unlike you, who clearly has no self-respect dressing like a fucking hooker.” his voice is rising with each word, his temper flaring out of control. he takes a step closer, looming over her menacingly. 

she laughs amusedly, getting up from the couch without a hush, her eyes not backing down from his one second.

their faces are inches apart, his nostrils flare as she invades his personal space, his breath hitching slightly at how close she is. he can smell her scent again with the mix of her mint warm breath hitting his face and watch the flecks of pure darkness in her eyes. it makes him even angrier that she affects him this way.

“then why are you yelling and being so defensive?” she tilts her head, pursing her lips to mock him. “did i hit a nerve, little boy?”

matt laughs sarcastically, rubbing his face in frustration.

“i’m not defensive, you fucking psycho! i’m pissed off because you're a delusional bitch who thinks she can talk to people however she wants without consequences!” his voice drops to a low growl as he stares intensely into her eyes, his own blazing with fury and something else he refuses to acknowledge. “think you're so sly, so above everyone else, huh? sorry to break your little ‘i don’t care’ attitude but you're nothing special. just another dumb slut looking for a man to put you in your place.” matt reaches out and grips her chin roughly, forcing her to maintain eye contact with him. she gasps with his aggressiveness while smirking, still not being affected by his words. 

“oh, i don’t think i’m above anyone else.” she leads her hand to his chest, creeping up to the neck and he tightens the grip on her chin, his pulse racing beneath her fingers. “i just think i’m better than guys who judges people based on clothes. you know? the ones who probrably will stay alone and horny forever?” her challenge only fuels his anger further and he leans in even closer until their noses are nearly touching, making her smirk wider. ”guys like… you.” he groans, sliding his other hand up to wrap around her throat loosely, applying just enough pressure in an attempt to make her submit once and for all, but it was too late. she was getting inside his head without even trying too much and he had no idea. “see, you’re calling me a slut for the way i dress but i bet you can’t name one guy i’ve dated.’’

“you’re right, i don't know who you've fucked. but i know your type, always throwing yourself at guys, desperate for validation. you probably spread your legs for the first dick that shows interest, don't you?” he replies right away, his words heavy with irritation. “face it, sweetheart - you're a pathetic little tease who gets off on driving guys crazy. well, congratulations, mission accomplished. you’re driving ME crazy alright... but not in the way you wanted.”

the girl lets out a small giggle, ignoring all the offensive comments, her mind floating with the thought of all the words she’s gonna make him swallow later. this by itself was awfully turning her on, but she manages to hide it well by her unconcerned expression.

“it’s so funny the way you’re affected by my words while trying so hard not to show it.” the girl takes her hand away from his neck, crossing her arms. “and i didn’t even try anything. i just replied to your brainless incel comments and you got mad because you have nothing else to say besides calling me an attention seeker.” she shrugs, her gaze still on him while she feels his fingers flexing around her slender throat.

matt snorts derisively at her words, her neck veins pulsing underneath his digits. he knows she's affected by him too, no matter how much she tries to hide it.

‘’oh please, spare me the bullshit. you live for this kind of thing… pissing people off, pushing buttons until they snap. well, i’m not falling for your sick games.’’ he releases her abruptly and steps back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. his heart pounds wildly in his chest but he refuses to let it show on his face.“get the hell out of my sight before i do something we both regret. trust me, you don't want to test me right now. i’m not one of your little boy toys to play with whenever you feel bored.’’

the corner of her lips went up with a smirk, she quietly sneaks behind matt who is currently facing his door, trying to control the anger and arouse inside him.

the girl lifts her feet up a little to reach his ear. “and what exactly are we going to regret, matt?” she whispers, brushing her lips against his lobe.

matt freezes as he feels her warm breath ghosting over his ear, her lips barely grazing his skin. every muscle in his body tenses, his fists clenching at his sides as he fights the urge to grab her and throw her onto the nearest surface.

‘’fuck you, get off me!’’ he snaps, shrugging her off roughly and spinning around to face her. his eyes blaze with barely contained lust and fury as he backs her up against the wall, caging her in with his arms. ‘’fine. let's play this fucking game, but don’t fool yourself. this is MY game, not yours. see if you can handle the consequences.’’ matt leans in, capturing her mouth in a brutal kiss before biting at her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, she moans with the mixture of pain and pleasure, the taste of blood only making her more aroused by second. 

her arms wrap around his neck, one hand reaches his hair, grabbing and pulling back in a sharp grip to make him face her. “is that all you can do?” she asks, gasping with her mouth slightly open, a little blood stain painting her swallowed lips red. “guess i was right about you just being a virgin little boy.” the girl smirks, tightening the grip on his hair more aggressively, a low growl rumbles in matt's chest, the sharp sting only serving to inflame his desire further. 

he presses himself fully on her, grinding his already hard cock against her hip as he grabs both wrists and pins them above her head roughly. ‘’you fucking tease, you have no idea what i’m capable of.’’ he rasps, trailing biting kisses along her jawline and down her neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. “i could ruin you in ways you never imagined. make you beg while screaming my name to the whole fucking neighborhood to listen.’’ matt nips sharply at her collarbone before soothing the sting with his tongue, laving the abused flesh with long strokes. his free hand slides down to grope her breast roughly through the thin fabric of her top, tweaking her nipple between his fingers.

she gasps, lifting her leg up between his legs, her hands still pinned above her head. “you’re just talk.” she scoffs, brushing her knee against his hard cock and he tilts his head back, lips parted with a whimper before he turns back to her, closing the gap between their bodies even more while sliding up the grip on her wrists, making her moan with the pain of her muscles being stretched aggressively. “i dare you to destroy me, matthew. even though i know you won’t get even close.” she looks up at him with a burning gaze, a unreadable expression in her face.

his eyes darken with sadistic glee at her challenge, a wicked smirk twisting his lips. matt releases her wrists abruptly and grips the hem of her black tight top, tearing it open with one swift motion to expose her bra-clad breasts, she moans and whimpers against his mouth, finally feeling her arms free. the flimsy lace provides little barrier as he palms the soft mounds roughly, rolling her sensitive nipples between his fingers. ‘’want to be destroyed, you fucking slut? i’ll give you what you asking for.’’ he captures her mouth again in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue as he plunders her depths ruthlessly. the blue eyed boy hands roam her body greedily, squeezing and caressing every curve as he grinds his aching erection against her hip bone.

she breaks the kiss with heavy breathing, her lips still brushing against his. “yet you seem more affected than me.” she leads a hand to his hard cock, caressing it, matt immediately lets out a strangled groan as she gropes his straining dick through the cotton fabric of the sweatpants, his hips jerking involuntarily into her touch. “so hard…” her hand squeezes the covered length ruthlessly, leaning to his neck and sucking his pale skin, she smiles noticing the instant harsh red hickeys. “it seems like you’re the slut.” she brings a hand to his face, slapping it slightly before grabbing his face and pulling closer to hers. “and you didn’t even need to dress like me to be one, did you?” she giggles, sucking his bottom lips before biting it without mercy to bruise him just like he did to her.

“shut your fucking mouth.” her teasing words send a fresh wave of fury crashing through him and he grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back roughly to bare the column of her throat to his hungry mouth. “you have no idea what you're talking about.” he snarls against her skin before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh, marking her with his hatred and desire. the other hand slides under her skirt to cup her ass possessively, kneading the firm globe. “i’m gonna fuck that smart mouth of yours until you choke on my cock. show you what a real man can do.“

she chuckles, her eyes glaring at him with challenge. “a real man, huh?” she slowly drop to her knees, calmly tracing her fingers over his sweatpants and pulling down just enough, his hard cock jumps over her face and matt breath catches in his throat watching the scene before his eyes, her hot mouth hovering mere inches from his very erected member. “no underwear at home? how slutty of you.” she chuckles, leaning against his pink tip covered with precum and licking it while her lustful eyes gazed at his face. “let’s see if you’re just all talk or not.”

his lips turns from a gasp to a smirk with her words, he tangles his fingers in her hair, gripping tightly as he guides her face closer to his straining erection. “open wide, you whore. show me how good you can suck dick.” he demands gruffly, rubbing the leaking tip across her full lips. “if you do a decent job, maybe i’ll consider letting you ride my cock later. would you like that, princess? to have me splitting your cunt open with my cock?”

matt pushes past her lips without waiting for a response, sliding deep into the welcoming heat of her mouth with a guttural moan.

she begins to take him all inside her mouth, reaching the throat right away while sucking vigorously, her tongue twisting around his tip when reaching the top before sliding back down deep in her cavity. her eyes already flooding with tears thanks to the aggressive contact of his large dick hitting the back of her throat multiple times, she’s looking at him with siren eyes while her nails were scratching and digging on his thighs.

matt throws his head back with a loud groan as the girl takes him with all effort, her throat constricting deliciously around his sensitive cock. the tears finally stream down her flushed cheeks as she struggles to accommodate his size, but she doesn't pull away, instead doubling her efforts to please him. “just like that. take it all, you filthy little cockslut.” he praises roughly, holding her head steady as he begins to thrust shallowly into her mouth, fucking her face with increasing intensity. “your mouth was made for sucking my dick, wasn't it? bet you love having your throat used like this, being choked on my thick cock.”

he picks up speed, slamming into her mouth brutally as he chases his release.

meanwhile she sucks him more, putting more pressure and taking him even deeper, her tears continuously falling down her pink cheeks and her makeup all smudge over under eyes still glued to his.

that sight of her was way too much for him, matt smirks to himself. feeling proud of dominating the girl who never backs down to anyone. her tear-streaked face, the makeup running down her cheeks as she takes his cock like a submissive whore sends matt hurtling towards the edge. with a roar, he buries himself balls-deep in her throat and holds her there as he erupts, flooding her mouth with spurt after spurt of hot cum.

“swallow it all, don't you dare spill a single drop.” he growls, keeping her trapped on his twitching shaft as he rides out the waves of his intense orgasm. “fuck, such a good cumdump. you’ve earned yourself a reward. now get up and bend over the kitchen counter. it’s time for me to fuck your little wet pussy.”

the girl swallows everything slowly holding back a smirk while savoring the taste of winning against a fucking asshole, she already won and her game didn’t even start yet.

slowly, she gets up in front of him, wipping the saliva off her chin and the melted makeup under her eyes. her hair beautifully messy and her shining eyes by the tears giving matthew the brief satisfaction, but quickly he shifts his mocking smile to a frown when she smirks and get closer to him.

“you’re not gonna fuck me, matt.” she announces, placing a finger on his chin. “because all i needed to do was pretend to be submissive for a split second for you to think that i was playing your little game, but in reality, you were playing mine this whole time.” she chuckles, releasing his chin with a harsh push with her finger, his head turn to the side while his jaw clenched. “you said you’re not like the other guys but you fell for my tricks just like they do.” she fixes her clothes, walking to the couch and sitting there with her legs crossed, the wetness of her pussy making her a little uncomfortable, but she brushes it off continuing her line of thoughts. “i wouldn’t be mad though, i just gave you the best orgasm of your life, didn’t i?” she asks, tilting her head while smiling.

he stares at her with his mouth open as she saunters away, ignoring his demand to present herself for him to ravage. she was right, no girl ever made him feel that amount of pleasure in his life but of course he was not gonna tell her that.

matt sighs, anger and arousal war within him as he watches her swinging her feet on the couch as if nothing happened.

“the fuck do you think you're doing? come here and bend over your fucking ass so i can destroy your soaking wet cunt.” he warns darkly, stalking towards her with murderous intent in his eyes. “you don't get to tease me like that and then just walk away. this is not how this works, i will have you begging for my cock before we're done today, mark my words.“

reaching the couch, matt grabs the girl roughly by the arm and hauls her to her feet.

“you’re the one begging to fuck me, matt.” she says smirking, his tight grip on her arm making her feel the need to provoke him more. “i mean, if you’re right about me opening my legs to every guy, i guess you’re the only one not getting it. and yet you’re here, wanting so bad to feel my pussy around your dick.” she places a hand over his cheek, caressing it with a fake sense of care. “you’re pathetic…” her thumb slowly slides to his lips, drawing it slightly while the boy shivered, not knowing which emotion to focus, horniness or ego bruised. “but that’s okay, i love pathetic men, they stand exactly where i want.” she slowly inserts a finger inside his mouth and matt opens it without even noticing. “that’s it…” she whispers, pressing his tongue with enough pressure to make him groan.

he is paralyzed again, all this new sensations eating his masculinity and dominance alive, her mocking words stoking the flames of his fury higher but at the same time he wants to give him to the pleasure but quickly recovering to protect his pride.

he grabs her wrist in an iron grip, still feeling the taste of her thumb in his mouth while the other hand acts quickly, seizing her waist against his torso, trapping her between the hard surface nearest wall and his muscular body.

“listen here, you little brat.” he slides his hand under her skirt, using his finger to pull her panties to the side. matt grins, feeling her soaking wet pussy. “look at you, you’re dripping.” he chuckles sarcastically. “i’m going to fuck you and you’re gonna take my cock as the good slut you are. the only question is whether you're going to be able to sit comfortably tomorrow or not.” he threatens menacingly, grinding his already hardening cock against her lower stomach. “i suggest you start begging nicely for it like a good little bitch. maybe if you ask really sweetly, i’ll go easy on you... for the first round, anyway.”

suddenly the voices of chris and nick echoed through the front door. seems like they were back with the groceries. she smirks at matt. 

“nope, i’d rather leave you hard and dry in front of your brothers.” she winks at him smirking, taking his surprise as an advantage to break free from his body, heading to the the her previous spot calmly.

matt curses under his breath as he hears chris and nick approaching the stairs with loud laughter and chatting, knowing he won't have time to properly punish that menace for her insolence. not yet anyway. he shoots her a look filled with dark promise before quickly tucking himself back into his pants and adjusting his shirt.

“this isn't over.” he whispers harshly, jabbing a finger at her as he steps back and she smiles at him amused by his anger. with that ominous vow ringing in the air, matt turns to greet his brothers with a forced smile, praying they don't notice the prominent bulge tenting his sweatpants or the glazed look of frustrated lust in his eyes.

[sillylotrpolls]

Normally in these results posts I include some interesting/amusing analysis of the results, but as seen in yesterday's post I'm not really feeling it this week.

Instead, let's talk about something else interesting that happened with this post: it was my first experience with Tumblr's Blaze platform!

A whole bunch of information about that below the cut. ( @staff, if you're reading this, I have some ~burning~ questions for you. 😁)

I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but much to my surprise this poll was blazed on November 5th courtesy of @katco-cereal, who runs @silmarils-for-breakfast. They thought the poll was funny and had a free blaze thanks to Tumblr's new ad-free -> premium system, so why not?

What happens when your post is blazed

When someone else blazes a post of yours, you get a notification in your activity feed as well as an email. However, I first noticed because the poll had a little "fire" icon right above the notes.

So, if a post of yours gets blazed, you'll definitely know about it so long as you check tumblr and/or your email regularly.

Clicking the icon got me this notification:

As you can see, anyone can blaze a post as long as your blog settings permit it and it passes moderation. However, if you blaze someone else's post they might choose to "extinguish" the campaign before it starts or is over. If this happens, you don't get a refund or your free monthly blaze campaign returned. So, be sure the original poster isn't going to be upset at being blazed or else be comfortable being out the princely sum of $10 (or however much you spent).

Why you might want to check before blazing a post

I was touched that someone found my poll funny enough to reblog, but there is a reason I might still have extinguished the campaign early: you can't edit a blazed post while it's blazing.

Obviously you already can't edit polls (a fact I approve of, actually), but I do often go back and add context to posts or links or just fix a typo or whatever. Even adding a new tag would have required ending the campaign first.

This makes sense! The post has been through moderation, and it would be a huge loophole if you could submit something unobjectionable, like Gollum singing about how he likes it raw and wriggling, and then edit the post to feature hardcore Gandalf/Balrog porn after the campaign starts. But it's something you should be aware of before blazing.

The report and how to interpret it

Here's a copy of the report I was emailed after the campaign ended. It was sent pretty quickly; clearly Tumblr puts some effort into providing a good experience for users willing to actually give them money unlike the vast majority of us.

Something I have frequently lamented while running this blog is the lack of detailed stats. In particular, I would love a time-stamped breakdown of votes, so I can see exactly when a certain option took off or how getting reblogged by a certain popular blog affected things. With this report I still don't have that, but I did get some impressions stats.

As it happens, I have experience marketing and running ads on other social media platforms (mostly Twitter (RIP) and LinkedIn), so I had no trouble interpreting this. If you don't have that specific experience, however, let me break it down for you.

About impressions

According to the report, I got 3,677 impressions, 277 of which were "earned." An impression is when someone sees your post. Or, more accurately, an impression is when Tumblr puts a post on someone's dash. It's entirely possible for Tumblr to do that but for users not to actually see the post because they have some sort of ad-block in place. How exactly a platform determines if a post was seen is generally kept secret in hopes of preventing exploitation.

An "earned" impression in this context means someone saw the poll because it was blazed and decided to reblog it. Then, additional users saw their reblog. Those additional users seeing it are the "earned" impressions. Same for the other stats in this report.

Note that this report is only for impressions and other stats related to the blazed version of the post. If you saw this poll because you follow @sillylotrpolls or because someone who does reblogged it, that impression is not counted in this report.

Something else to notice is that the campaign promised that the post would be shown to "at least 2500 users." Why not make that exactly 2500 users? A few reasons come to mind. This is educated speculation as I do not work for Tumblr, but it's very likely a combination of:

Not being able to be 100% certain each user actually saw the post for above ad-blocker reasons (or if their dash just glitched for whatever reason, or the power went out as they were scrolling, or whatever).

The blaze system lags in counting how many impressions have already been served, so it's simpler to just show the post extra times rather than constantly checking to see if the count is at 2500 yet.

It's marketing technique meant to make users feel good about choosing Blaze because Tumblr is being generous with the impressions (which is fine to feel! there is nothing wrong with appreciating something nice!)

Votes = impressions?

Finally on the topic of impressions, one thing I really love about running polls is that they are a good proxy for measuring impressions without an ad campaign. When you scroll through your dash, you probably vote in most of the polls, right? Even the ones you don't like or reblog? (Actually, now that I'm saying it, I realize I'm not sure and would dearly love some stats on this.)

If you look at literally any poll on this blog, you'll see the number of votes is much higher than the number of notes. Since each user can only vote in a poll once, it makes a good estimate for how many people saw your post even if they didn't otherwise interact with it.

On the other hand, sometimes I have a poll that gets very few votes compared to other polls posted in that same time-frame. When that happens, it's probably not that I'm getting less impressions, since I can generally assume about the same number of followers are seeing each of those posts. Instead, it's much more likely that people just didn't want to vote on that particular poll.

A good example is this poll on dwarfism. I know it got at least 85 impressions, because it got that many votes, but generally other polls that didn't do well in that month got at least 200 votes or so. So votes can be a quick proxy for a proper impression count, but you have to be aware of complicating factors.

What about those other stats?

An engagement means someone interacted with the post. This includes clicks, follows, shares, replies, reblogs, and likes. It does not include votes.

A click means a user clicked on a link in your post. This is an important measurement in most "real" campaigns because you make the post trying to get people to click a link to the page selling your product or whatever. If there's no link (as was the case here), this stat will be zero no matter what.

A follow is pretty self-explanatory, but I will mention it can be difficult to capture all follows as a result of a campaign, especially if a user has turned off tracking cookies. If a user follows directly from the blazed post, of course that will be captured in the report. But what if a user sees the blazed post, then goes to check out the blog and see if they like it before deciding to follow? Depending on how the system is set up, that may or may not be reflected in the report.

The other stats I'm guessing you're familiar with if you use tumblr in any capacity at all. XD Once again, "earned" means the engagement happened on a post that was reblogged by a user who saw the post in blazed format. Interesting to me was the high ratio of reblogs to likes in the report. I'd have to see reports from additional campaigns to have any insight into whether that's common for blazed posts or specific to this one, however.

Something else I'm curious about is if any of these engagements are "hidden" in the notes until after the campaign ends. It's not going to be noticeable with reblogs or likes unless you're very meticulous, but I noticed right off that the number of replies the poll theoretically had (6) wasn't matching the number of replies I could see in the notes (4).

Usually if there's a mismatch like that I would assume it's because either I have a user blocked or visa versa, but that shouldn't be possible on my own blog, right? And if I go to check now, there are indeed the number of replies the notes say there should be, and they're timestamped Nov 5. So, I guess they were hidden? But I have no idea at all why that would be, as it would require extra code to make that happen, right? Very odd.

Is blazing a post a good idea?

Sure, if you like a post and want it to get more attention, why not? Just be sure the author (if not you) is cool with it and doesn't have plans to edit that post. However, it's also the case that a good post will probably spread around Tumblr anyway.

If I were making the call and had a set budget to work with, I'd blaze under some combination of the following circumstances:

The source blog doesn't have very many followers so the post isn't likely to be seen otherwise

The source blog has followers, but the post to be blazed would be popular with an audience beyond the typical demographics of those existing followers

Getting only a few clicks is enough to justify the cost of the campaign

Getting the post in front of users, regardless of any engagements, is enough to justify the cost of the campaign

In this case, Katco had a free blaze to burn (heh) and it was worth it to them to share the post with no potential personal return simply because they thought the post was funny and should be shared. And as a bonus, we got to learn about the Blaze process together, which was neat.

Generally, just keep your expectations realistic and remember it's only Tumblr, after all. $10 to have a little fun is perfectly justifiable if it brings you joy.

Okay, fine, a LITTLE bit of poll analysis

I said I didn't want to dig into the results, but I think we can all agree that "The monarchy is fine, but city-states like Rivendell aren't" getting 0.3% of the vote while "City-states are fine, but Galadriel should face re-election every 500 years" got 10.2% is pretty interesting, right? Can we get a Political Science major in here to dive into that result?

And how about the notion that monarchies are great so long as you like the guy in charge (17.2%)? And yeah, the Shire has democracy, but it's limited and both Merry and Pippin are part of aristocratic lines and inherit (not earn) positions of power...

Apparently even when I'm depressed, I just can't help but be interested in data. It is a sickness gift.

Finally, I'll leave you with these tags from @narcissusneverknewme:

#honestly this is a case of 'any system can fall to corruption'#our government sucks not bc it's a democracy but because its corrupt at every level of governance#lol#the bureaucracy and the fact they can just lie to citizens and do horrible harm. like red hill#or flint mi#this wouldn't happen under aragorn#not bc he's a king but bc he isn't corrupt

[mystical-lemonade]

Uhm..so..can you do a yandere Vice dorm heads sharing a darling, like how you did for dorm heads?? Your work is rlly good!!

Warnings: Mentions of death(Lilia), Drugging/Love potions(Trey), Hypnotism(Jamil), Blackmail(Jade), Violence,

Wordcount:

Pairings: Trey Clover x gn!Reader, Jade Leech x gn!Reader, Jamil Viper x gn!Reader, Rook Hunt x gn!Reader, Lilia Vanrouge x gn!Reader

Trey as a yandere is quite subtle

But due to his duties in Heartslabyul, it would take a bit for him to notice he's not the only one gunning for you

When he does, Trey ramps up his "Sweet, helpful,older brother/friend" persona

Hoping to fly under the radar while his competition takes each other out

Trey offers you gifts almost always laced/covered with a subtle love potion

Nothing that would cause anyone close to you alarm

But just strong enough that you will seek him out frequently

He'd also try and subtly discourage you from seeing his competition

Why spend time with anyone but him, he just understands you best

Over time, he will increase the dose of love potion to ensure you choose him

Doesn't aim to be violent but will not shy away if he needs to fight off the riff raff

If he needs to maim the other vice dorm leaders or your friends he will

And Trey always manages to spin it as him defending either himself or you to the staff

"You don't need them anymore, all they want is to hurt you"

Jade thinks he's subtle about his sudden paranoia about losing you to the other vice dorm leaders

He is decidedly NOT

You very quickly realize Jade is effected by something because he is suddenly everywhere

He takes a page out of Floyd's book and just looms

It was sweet how protective he was, until he quite literally tried to break Ruggie's neck because you were assigned partners in a class

When you confront him about it Jade will blackmail you into leaving NRC and staying he wants you to be

Jade will do anything to make sure you are FAR away from anything that may even consider removing you from his grasp

Has no remorse for threatening you and your loved ones

Doesn't immediately follow you to the underwater house he stashed you in

He has to give some sense of normalcy

Acts very upset that you left him and the school after what happened with Ruggie

It’s not entirely fake either, he really does regret having to show you that side of himself

Additionally, Jade is the only one of the Vices who would threaten to kill you if you tried to escape

“You’re welcome to leave, just remember, it’s a good 45 minute swim back to the surface~”

Jamil takes the longest to notice he has competition

He's consistently trying to look busy so you don't realize he had hypnotized the staff who made the schedules so you are always together

Uses his well crafted charm and masks to make you inherently trust him well before he had competetion

Does his best to keep you away from the others once he realizes he's not the only one with an interest in you

Jamil is also quite practical, he's your friend, he's handsome and intelligent

So he straight up asks you out on a date, only a little bit encouraged by his magic

If you say yes, he will be super normal until your relationship is threatened

If you say no however, Jamil would use his unique magic on you

Make you forget you said no, and instead make you believe that you were very excited to say yes

And the ease of gaining affection from you encourages him to continue to keep you under his spell

His practical class work may suffer slightly, but its all worth it to see you look at him with such open adoration and love

Jamil is so delusional about this, he'd be extremely comfortable keeping you hypnotized to his desire for your entire lifetime

"It's not fake, all I'm doing is enhancing feelings you always had"

Rook is probably the first to figure out he’s not the only one interested in his darling

He’s been watching you for a while after all

And when he uses those supreme observation skills to observe the people around you?

He sees how his fellow vice dorm leaders gravitate towards you

And he can’t have that

At which point he would use his unique magic to tag you

And that night when you’re finally all alone?

He’d steal you

Taking you far, far away, to a place where not even his own family would think to look for him

Is he a bit sad to have abandoned his education and friends? Yes

But everything is worth it if it meant he gets his darling all to himself

Be prepared to be moved at the drop of a hat as well

because Rook did not get this far just to give you up to another

“Home is not a location, its the people we love, and I love you most of all.”

Lilia is quite calm when he realizes

He has the best taste after all, so of course other people wish to appreciate you

Trey giving you gifts? Jade offering to help you with your studies? Rook watching you outside your window every night as you sleep?

All fine with Lilia, he’s confident like that

It’s when those same individuals make any move towards you that he has a problem

Those gifts contain a love potion? Trey will find he is suddenly missing three fingers on each hand

Rook escalates from just watching to sneaking into your dorm room? He will lose an eye

First offence, they get a maiming warning

Second offence, they die

Lilia is efficient, because in his mind, you have already chosen him

He’s wooed royalty before, so his confidence isn’t entirely misplaced

But not everyone wants to be courted using gifts a cat would bring in from outside

If you're fine with receiving severed body parts as a gift, it can be considered cute

But Lilia would NEVER share his darling with another yandere who wants your heart

With his family? Maybe! As long as they keep their paws of you.

"They can certainly look, after all, masterpieces are mean to be admired"

I like to imagine Jade vs Ruggie happens in a class you and Jade don’t share. He’s that obsessed. Jamil in the corner in that classroom seething because that should have been him

If you enjoyed this post and want to see more from me feel free to check out the previous wishes or make a wish of your own.

Sincerely, Jupiter

[cvnticon]

L-O-V-E! 𝐛𝐬𝐟!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬

a/n: this is my first official fic, so please be kind! leave me some feedback!

contains:: bsf!chris fluff! kissing, a lil angst if you squint and nick being the best triplet ever!

you sat on the edge of the bleachers, watching your best friend, Chris, run across the field, laughing as he kicked the soccer ball toward his brother Matt, who’d just stolen it from him. you could recognize that laugh from miles away—the easy, infectious laugh that somehow made everything seem better, even on your worst days. Chris had always been that way for you, a light in the dark, someone you could rely on. But the truth was, your feelings for Chris had started changing a long time ago. you weren’t sure when exactly it had happened, but you knew now, without a doubt, that you were in love with him.

You two have been best friends since middle school. Chris and his two brothers, Matt and Nick, had moved into your neighborhood one summer, and since then, you have been inseparable. As triplets, the brothers were always grouped together, but each had a unique personality that set them apart. Matt was the driven one, focused and competitive. Nick, always easygoing and warm-hearted, was unapologetically himself, And then there was Chris, somewhere in the middle—a blend of kind, adventurous, and unpredictable. He was your safe place, your best friend, and your secret crush.

you knew it was silly to feel this way; you’d tried to convince yourself of that countless times. Chris had always seen you as a friend, a sister almost, and you were terrified of ruining the bond they had. But it didn’t make your heart hurt any less every time you saw him smile, laugh, or hug you goodbye a little too long. you could feel your heart throb with unspoken words you’d never dare to let out.

One afternoon after practice, Chris jogged over to the bleachers and plopped down beside you, his face flushed from running, strands of his dark hair sticking to his forehead. “You’re coming to the bonfire tonight, right?” he asked, nudging your shoulder.

you shrugged, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yeah, I guess. Are you bringing anyone?”

“Just you,” he replied casually. “You’re my best friend, remember?”

your heart sank a little at that word—best friend. It felt like a constant reminder that friendship was all he wanted. But you mustered a smile, pushing the ache aside, and nodded. “Of course. It’ll be fun.”

Later that night, they gathered on the beach with friends. A fire crackled as laughter and music filled the air. Chris sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. you looked over at him, watching the way the firelight danced across his face, casting soft shadows along his cheekbones. He noticed your gaze and raised an eyebrow.

“Something on my face?” he teased.

“No,” you replied quickly, looking away as your cheeks flushed. “Just…thinking.”

“About what?”

you hesitated. “Nothing important.”

Chris studied your face, but before he could press further, Matt and Nick appeared, laughing and jostling each other. Nick plopped down on the sand next to you, tossing an arm around your shoulders.

“Y/N, have you ever thought about dating anyone? Like, seriously?” Nick asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

you laughed, trying to brush off the question. “Well…maybe.”

“Interesting…” Nick said, shooting a look at Chris, who was now very interested in a stick he was poking in the sand. “You know, Chris is single. Just saying,” he added with a wink.

Chris rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Nick, please stop matchmaking.”

your face grew warm. you wished you could tell them how much you’d thought about it, how often you’d pictured being more than just friends with Chris. But instead, you just laughed it off, playing along with Nick’s joke.

A few days later, Chris showed up at your house unexpectedly. He looked uncharacteristically serious, his usual playful smile absent. “Can we talk?”

you felt your stomach twist. “Sure. What’s up?”

They walked down to the park nearby, silent for most of the way. When they reached a quiet spot, Chris finally stopped and turned to you, looking almost nervous.

“Nick told me something the other day. He thinks… he thinks you might have feelings for me,” he said softly, his gaze searching yours.

your heart plummeted. you didn’t know how to answer. you felt like you’d been caught in your most vulnerable moment.

“Chris, I—”

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to hold yours. “Look, Y/N, I…I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you as my friend. But, if I’m being honest, I think about you all the time. I keep trying to tell myself we’re just friends, but I don’t know if that’s true anymore.”

you felt your heart pounding, your mind spinning. you looked up into his eyes, unable to believe what you were hearing. “Really?”

Chris nodded, his thumb brushing over your hand gently. “I don’t want to mess this up. But I also can’t pretend I don’t have feelings for you anymore.”

Without thinking, you leaned up, closing the gap between them, and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft and tentative, full of emotions you’d kept locked away for so long. When they finally pulled back, Chris looked at you, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“So…what now?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I guess we see where this goes. Together.”

They stood there, hand in hand, knowing that things between them would never be the same. But for the first time, you felt that maybe, just maybe, everything was exactly as it was meant to be.

sorry guys i tried my best 🤍🤍 ik rn some people are craving fluff!! gimme some feedback please!! please ask me in my inbox if you want to be tagged once i post!! i made this while listening to the song L-O-V-E for literally over an hour!

[hylianane]

I have an opinion about Holly Kujo and I’m a little scared cause I dont know the Jojo fandom enough to come in with what I think is a hot take.

I’ve noticed that, in fanworks, a lot of people portray Holly as tougher than she is in the show. And it makes sense, cause the idea of her being so weak-willed that she couldn’t handle a stand when even baby Shizuka could manifest one is kinda bs and a testament to Araki not being very confident with writing women at the time (thank GOD he got better though, so, so much better).

But. What always gets me is when her relationship with Jotaro is written to be a little more standard, still loving but with the child having a healthy fear of their mom’s anger- unlike what we see in Stardust, with him constantly being a brat, calling her “bitch” and her shrugging it off with an “Okay!”. And also him getting himself thrown into jail while she still can’t bring herself to get mad, just upset. And that’s a very fun play on them too, but I just worry that people who default to this dynamic for Jojo and Holly might not see how the canon characterization of their relationship is interesting in its own right.

Because even tho Holly being a doormat is a creative choice born from Araki pussying out of giving her a stand, it doesn’t change the fact that once he made that choice he gave it great importance. I think the fact that Holly’s idea of supporting her son is just accepting everything he does without any anger, is central to their relationship. It’s how, despite having a mother who loves him unconditionally, Jotaro is still a very troubled teen and emotionally withdrawn. Though it’s easy to blame it on Sadao’s implied absence, or troubles in school, we don’t have a lot of textual evidence for that.

But kids who are raised without at least some semblance of discipline and structure typically stop seeing their parents as authorities, and most importantly, protectors. A more textually-backed explanation for why Jotaro is always acting tough and independent is because he doesn’t have any adults in his life who he would trust to help him. He loves his mom, he traveled the world to save her life, but while doing that he saw himself as her protector, not the other way around, not the way it typically should be.

Think about, for example, how the adult he mouths off to the least in his life is probably Avdol. And I think part of that is because Avdol walked into that police station, took one look at Jotaro, and instantly clocked everything I just said. Because while Holly and Joseph tried to to get him out with simple words (and for Holly, tears), Avdol was there to force him out. And at first Jotaro says, “If he tries to force me out, I’ll just stay here even longer”, but Avdol doesn’t give him choice. And he doesn’t win by overpowering him (if he had, I dont think he’d have gotten the same positive result, I am not pro setting troubled teens on fucking fire) but he outsmarts Jotaro and doesn’t quit the fight until his goal is achieved. He stays in control of his emotions when talking to him, and proves himself to be someone strong and assertive. So later, on the trip to Cairo, Jotaro is more willing to rely on him than he is to rely on his own grandpa. (+, it’s a similar thing with Kakyoin, who he trusts almost more than anyone else, because he saw Kakyoin’s will and power first-hand when they met, and left with the lesson that Kak is someone he can rely on to protect of both himself and Jotaro. Someone with strong convictions, but most importantly, willing and capable of clashing with Jotaro if necessary.)

All this to fucking say. In a world in which Jotaro was raised to fear his parent’s reprimands (and I don’t mean fear to an unhealthy amount, an abusive amount), he would act very differently than he does in the show, and his relationships to other characters would probably look very different. Holly’s personality and parenting might seem like it was an afterthought to Araki, but I think he truly did take great care in making it consistent with her son’s character. She is a very loving mom, who is very loved in return, but what I think a lot of people perceive as a flaw in her writing is actually just a flaw in her character, with narrative weight and interesting consequences. And I’m not sure how many people are really aware of that.