#daydream dialogue

[silentsdaydreamz]

oh my god im in love with one of my f/os so badly and also in love with their ex but i get jealous and sad when i see them together, but they're also cute together???

??????

???????

WHAT THE FUCK

[gen-toon]

[pharawee]

Are you thinking about me now?

[7roaches]

posting my incorrect opinions @ night when nobody can see them

[sinsandsweetness]

Rick slapping your pussy until you're all puffy down there. Rick can punish me any day.

this concept has taken over all of my thoughts. every single one.

cw- 18+, impact play

His hand comes down on you with a sharp sting. The impact jolting you forward with a squeak. Too surprised to say anything else, you stay there wide eyed on all fours. He does it again. Shoving your face going into the pillow, you try to hide the pained sound escaping your throat.

Ouch.

You try reaching back for him, trying to get him to just cut it out and fuck you already. But despite your efforts, one more crack of pain comes down on your cunt, sending a hot, stinging sensation up your spine.

“Hey,” you let out a whine at that one, “Be gentle.”

You hear him laugh from behind you, hand going to caress your sensitive skin. Kneading up your ass and trailing down to feel between your legs. Running his fingers through your wet folds. Rubbing circles on your clit and making you squirm. Already dripping in anticipation.

“I’ll be gentle when you learn to behave, how’s that sound?” He slaps your pussy once more and you try to bite your tongue. A muffled cry gets stuck halfway up your throat.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

“Yes, sir,” you’re arousal is damn near dripping down your thigh. The pain has morphed into something almost pleasurable, having made your clit all sore and swollen. Now even more sensitive to his touch.

“Are you gonna behave? Gonna be good for me, now?”

“Yes. I’ll be so good, Rick. On my best behaviour, I promise.”

You’re nodding frantically as you twist back to see him. Messy curls falling in front of his eyes, and a devious smirk is splayed across his five o’clock shadow.

“Actions speak a hell of a lot louder than words, baby...” You can feel his cock teasing at your entrance. His hand comes up to tangle in the hair at the base of your skull and he gives you a nice tug. Head snapping back with an involuntary moan.

“So go on and show me how good you can be.”

[velvetcloxds]

you and remus have been struggling to communicate, you’ve not been fighting, you’re not upset with each other, words have just been hard, he’s been quiet, you’ve been unsure, truth be told you’re both drained and unsure how to even approach the situation. he comes home late, doesn’t expect you to be up but you’re in the kitchen, you’ve resorted to playing the vinyl you hide at the very back of the shelf, the one you reserve for when your heart needs some extra warmth. he doesn’t think you know you’re swaying, the air is slow with the music, you’re quiet as you do the dishes- he thinks it’s his turn for that. his hands are unfortunately careful as he sets them on your upper arms, you stiffen and then as if you’d been waiting just for him, you melt. it’s a slow journey from your arms to your waist, you melt without any real control in the matter, eyes closed as you lean into his chest. he smells of home, you realise, you’d been here all night and still only now does it feel like you’ve arrived. he doesn’t realise he’s swaying either, not until you turn in his arms, fists balling his shirt between them, breathing him in as you settle you head against his heart. he doesn’t care about the water stains by your fingers, the tap still running, how uncomfortable his coat is inside, unsure if he even locked the door. “i miss you,” he hums and you nod, he kisses the top of your head, squeezes your waist gently. “i miss you too,” and it’s a silent promise for so much more to come, words to be had, but not now, now your hearts are finding each other again, falling back into harmony.

[sideblogformentalhealtshit]

It's so annoying how frustratingly difficult it is to translate daydreams into actual words in a text document! Because it's oftentimes not that the daydreams are just things i'm imagining, vague ideas of what happens or is said, no no no. I'm straight up thinking, very specifically, word for word what happens. I'm straight up sounding out sentences like i was reading a fanfic but in my head. but the moment i actually try to translate these words into, well, Actual Words, they just disappear!!! Whyy

[howifeltabouthim]

'Although I should warn you that she really only seems to get romantically excited about books.'

Jenn Lyons, from The Ruin of Kings

[kiivg]

.Anywhooo I wrote smth McReid style 💷🫰.

[silentsdaydreamz]

im AWFULLY in love with rs protoman and i fucking hate it

get this gremlin away from me

he makes me blush and i get flustered and he could probably break me in half if he tried, god he’s so fucking buff and i hagysduuabsdhd

he angers me so much but i want to bite him in the loving way,, i have so many emotions over him

[kittylittersmoothie]

so turns out the vivid, constant daydreaming from my childhood is actually Maladaptive Daydreaming™... and it is slowly consuming my life and my ability to do things

on the plus side, though... i receive my only doses of something akin to comfort and affection via daydreams?

& it... has become a maladaptive coping mechanism

...whoops ( ´ー`)

[f-imaginings]

I have finally FINALLY got up to the dream scene at the start of the last mabelcorn in kmky and everything is flowing nicely finally, and the scenes and characterisation all are smooth and make sense and I am no longer going over the same establishing scenes like a pedant trying to make them perfect. SUCCESS!

Just have to knock out these next few bits then it's onto unicorn beatdowns, funny hats, pizza parties and loophole heists!

[sinsandsweetness]

Bby I’m in need of some fluff.

Reader who’s a cat lover and wants to bring a cat home with them to Alexandria and Rickyl, Daryl doesn’t want the cat but Ricks like “let’s let her have the cat what harm would it do”

Lol anyways they definitely let her have the cat

Daryl definitely warms up to the cat too.

(this is too fucking cute)

You swallow hard as Rick reaches for the front door, simultaneously nudging you forward.

“C-can you tell him?” You ask softly. Rick can only shake his head and chuckle as the two of you walk into the house.

“Nuhuh, baby. You’re the one that wanted ‘em, so you gotta be the one to tell him.”

Rick gives Daryl a hug upon seeing him. You would, but your hands are a little full.

“What’s that?” He asks. Brows furrowed into a confused scowl.

“You gotta promise not to get mad. And- promise we’re not gonna like… eat them or anything.” His perplexed look deepens and you become even more nervous. Nervous that he’ll tell you to go put them back where you found them.

“Baby, what’s in the box?” He repeats his question. Definitely more concerned about the contents now.

“The mama didn’t make it,” you explain, setting the shoe box down on the counter. Hushed little “meow”s coming from the cracked open lid.

“No.”

“You haven’t even seen them, Dare,” you whine. Already rejecting the prospect of such adorable kittens.

“Not happening.”

“Told you he’d be like this,” Rick chimes in, leaned against the counter. Cheeky little grin splayed on his face.

“Like what?” Daryl seems defensive. Momentarily distracted by Rick while you open the shoebox and grab the cutest one. All black fluff with big yellow eyes. By far the cutest of the 5.

“All grouchy ‘n shit. You’re never any fun anymore.” You complain, holding the kitten out in front of you.

Daryl’s scowl only deepens.

“C’mon, Dare. How can you say no to this lil face?” You pout your lips and hold the kitty beside your face. Trying your best to guilt him into letting them stay.

“…”

“Please,” you try one last time, giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can possibly manage.

“One. You can keep one. The rest need to go.” Fuck yeah!

You breath out a sigh of relief. Handing him the kitten, which he definitely didn’t want to hold. But as soon as it cuddled up where he held it against his chest, it started purring. Begging to be loved. And that must have tugged a heart string.

“I’ll ask around if anyone wants the rest.” You tell him over your shoulder, already making your way out of the door with the shoebox. 4 little kittens cuddled up and ready for some new homes.

And when you get back, empty handed and feeling satisfied, Daryl is asleep on the couch, with soft snores leaving his lips. The kitten cuddled up on his chest and purring away. The two of them looking like a damn match made in heaven.

Rick has an ankle crossed over his knee, lounging back to read a book in his armchair. You walk over and plop yourself into his lap, squirming around until the two of you are comfy. His hand snaking around your waist, as his eyes move along the lines of the page.

You lean into his ear and kiss his neck gently, earning a sweet little sigh from the man. You whisper softly, trying not to wake up the other man,

“Told you he’d warm up to it.”

And all Rick can do is smile and roll his eyes.

[zushimart]

mdni. trans!scara x gn!reader. modern au. comfort/fluff with a little bit of something else at the end. 568 words.

“hey, you’ve got that look on your face again,” he says, peeking over the top of his computer. the room is quiet and dark, and you’re both sitting on opposite sides of the bed, legs tangled under the blankets. the glow of your screens illuminate your faces.

you frown. “i’m just thinking,” you murmur and he scratches his toenails against your leg. “gross,” you blurt, kicking him. he kicks back harder. 

“you’re thinking too hard. makes you look ugly,” he says, closing his laptop and setting it aside on the nightstand. he crawls over, slotting his body against your side and laying his head atop your shoulder. “need to talk?” he asks. 

you hum, eyes cast to the ceiling. he tugs on your sleeve till you reveal a hand to slide his into. he plays with it. “just sad.” the words are quiet, tired. 

“have you showered?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“no,” you say, “but i don’t want to get up.” 

“take a shower, it’ll make you feel better,” his tone is sharp. he pulls away. 

whining like a petulant kid, your hand clamps around his wrist and drags him back, “nooo, don’t leave meeee. you’re healing.” 

“listen,” he says, snatching himself out of your grip. “if you shower, i’ll watch a movie with you and scratch your head for a little while. i won’t even complain. not even once.” 

“woah,” you say, in awe. “anything else?” 

“more?” he asks, “you’re gonna be ungrateful? i’m giving you the world, here.” 

“no! not ungrateful,” you say, hands sliding up his bare thighs and up into his boxers. his breath hitches and he sits up a little at the touch. “i just… think i know what’ll make me feel better.” 

“you’re perverted,” he spits, but he’s the one spreading his legs when you tap the soft skin of his thighs. “s-shower,” he tries to remind you and himself when you snap the band of his boxers against his hips. “the shower,” he squeaks when your hand palms his clit through the fabric. 

“come with me?” you ask, coating your plea with sugar as if he’s even entertaining saying no with his eyes half-closed in lust like that. he’s obsessed with your blind adoration. “please?” you stretch the syllables far until he sighs a sweet yes, grinding his hips into your hand. “yay!” you cheer, taking away your touch just to hear the uncontrollable whine that crawls up his throat. 

his cheeks burn red and he curses under his breath. “you think you’re funny, don’t you?” he asks, closing his legs to rub his thighs together. 

“i do,” you purr, “now you go first so i can watch you from behind.” he slaps your arm, biting his lip to hide his smirk, but shimmies off the bed anyway and tries not to shiver at the feeling of yours eyes tracing the shape of his body –– he knows you’re thinking… devising plans on what exactly you’ll do to him.

you’re mumbling to yourself like a madman, and he catches a few words like “the showerhead first.” he doesn’t have time to think much on it before your hands find the small of his back and push him through the door with the sound of your sweet voice asking to give you the privilege of undressing him. you’re an eager puppy… his eager puppy. 

[good-beanswrites]

We were doing a roleplay thread of OoA. Mikoto (well, John) follows Kotoko to Mahiru's cell, and they tear the place apart.

Good thing Mappi wasn't around, but that's got to be a terrible thing to return to...

(Prompt?)

Mmm that's such an interesting thought -- the attack taking place in the room of the one person unaffected. The survivors guilt is Insane smh -_- I tried to lean into Mappi's voice and mindset for this, I'm not sure how it'll read but I'm super satisfied with the character study it gave me!

Every good housewife knows that a tidy home is a happy home. She knows how to take care of a tiny amount of clutter, since something as small as that can ruin the atmosphere. She knows how to approach larger disorganization before it causes distraction and agitation. The thing they don’t teach housewives, however, is how to handle a living space that has been wholly spattered with blood. At least, they hadn’t in any of the online articles that Mahiru had read. 

The woman hovered in the entryway to her cell, her hands brought up by her chest in an attempt to make herself as small as possible. The others had informed her that the day’s fight ended up in her cell, but she’d only been grateful she was away when it happened. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that the room may not be suitable to sleep in.

The door clicked behind her, locking her in for the night.

Furniture and possessions lay scattered across the floor. Her pillow and sheets had been flung about. She wouldn’t mind returning them to the bed if they were just kicked around the ground, but even in the dim light (her favorite lamp now lay in glass shards) she could see that they each held dark splotches of blood. The color was streaked across the floor, clinging to the back wall as well. 

Maybe nobody had thought to warn her about the state of the cell since there weren’t any huge puddles of the stuff, or because the lamp was really the only thing that had been broken. Mahiru told herself that they were probably too absorbed in the victims’ physical conditions to give it a second thought. It didn’t help the hurt rising in her chest – they could have said something. It would have taken two seconds to think about her and mention it. She could have at least brought a bucket and a sponge inside before curfew…

She bit down hard on her quivering bottom lip, scolding herself for feeling such self pity.

How dare she be anything but joyful that she made it out of today alive. So what, she had a little blood in her cell? It was better than that being her blood spilled somewhere. How dare she not be spending every moment in reverent gratefulness that the others made it out of today alive. Maybe it’d be rough to stay in the cell until morning, but at least she was guaranteed to make it through the night.

Fuuta and Amane’s faces flashed in her mind. She drew in a shaky breath. There had been nothing in her online articles about a situation like that.

But moping around never helped any household. The door was locked, so there was no chance of anyone coming back to cause any more mess. Though she couldn’t do anything directly for Fuuta or Amane, she could start drawing up a list of gifts and favors and favorite meals she could cook. It would be silly for her to cry now, with things going so well.

She should be happy. She should be happy. She should be happy.

And so she was. Mahiru used a scarf as a makeshift broom to sweep up the glass – every good housewife knows that safety comes first! She hummed a favorite tune as she collected the other objects around the room. The song wavered only once, though it returned with full force. She sang the cheery chorus with passion as she found one of her earrings had been crushed underfoot. It would make a fun DIY fix in the next few weeks – she always did love crafts! 

Once everything was straightened out, she moved to her closet. It was looking more bare after her verdict, but there were still plenty of things to choose from for what she had in mind. She picked out her thickest of clothes and laid them on the floor in a colorful, comfy arrangement – it would be the cutest little campout! In fact, if she pinned up her throw blanket in just the right way, it reminded her of younger years making pillow forts and having sleepovers. A little change in scenery can go a long way. She’d read that on a travel blog once, though she’d never truly believed it until now. 

She adjusted the blanket with a smile. As she curled up on a particularly soft sweater, she commended herself on the ingenuity. She’d gotten the room under control in less than an hour. If she could take on a project like this, just think of how happy a home she could run someday. 

Indeed, the space was downright adorable inside. One would never even know things had gotten so bad, she thought. One would never even know there was blood on the walls, just outside.

[ratgingi]

god man i hate being autistic sometimes