#fail foward

[mistihayesfix]

Progress made today. I will celebrate that. All I can do is move step-by-step, day-by-day.

This is like exercise, I am rebuilding habits but focusing on building in a healthy way.

I don't want to stand in my way any longer. So I won't. Little-by-little, day-by-day. More ideas are coming to me. More creativity. More freedom to be. More resources, financial and otherwise. More understanding for directing my time.

I have to be disciplined. 😮‍💨 This is my weakness. Discipline is tantamount to consistent focus. My flavor of neuro spicy STRUGGLES greatly with focus outside of my obsessions. BUT I've done this before. SUCCESSFULLY. CONSISTENTLY.

I want to be better at it now than I ever was before. I'm still nervous. And my heart still hurts. But as long as I fail forward it's good. Get up, adjust the plans accordingly, and keep moving forward. ✨️

I still don't know how much more I can take but today, at least we've agreed to continue.

[caluupin]

Father!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥

[agarafile]

When the session ends, Gem watches as her snail retreats back to her shell, no longer determined to kill her.

It makes sense, she thinks.

Gem still remembers wanting to kill and hurt, wanting to sink her teeth into the other players' skin and watch them bleed. And even more clearly, she remember the frustation she felt when she failed to do so.

Her snail must feel the same way, and now defaulted to sulking.

God, she is so cute! Gem is going to miss her deadly little face next session.

She kneels down next to her and lets a soft sigh escape.

"Yeah, yeah. I know the feeling, buddy..." she pats her shell "Take your time, let it all out."

Her snail doesn't try to give any response, still bundled up in her shell. Gem rolls her eyes, smiling. So stubborn, who did she even get it from?

Gem leaves her be, knows that sooner or later the snail will give in. The snail may be mad now, but if Gem knows herself, she probably won't stay mad forever.

Probably.

She tends to the wheat while she waits, one knee planted to the ground, until she feels a slimy touch on her ankle.

"Finally getting out of your shell, huh?" Gem looks down and frowns.

Looking at her was not her cute snail, with her orange shell and bright green eyes. Instead, the snail that touched her had light blue beady eyes, a brown shell and seemed to have hair.

" Did Pearl put you up to this?" Gem makes a face, clearly displeased with her visitor "Is she really making her own snail bother me now?"

Pearl's snail only tilted her body in response, eyes lightly hitting eachother from the movement.

Gem hated that she found that endearing.

"Go back to your player. I have enough problems to deal with and I'm not looking foward to add babysitting to the list."

She tried to go back to the wheat, she really did. But Pearl's snail nuzzled onto her leg and bumped her shell against her ankle. Gem looked back to her and the snail's eyes seemed to shine for her.

Sighing, she turned to the snail and sat cross-legged in front of her. Pearl's snail let out a excited sound and hopped into Gem's lap, nuzzling once she settled herself.

" This is a bad idea." Gem says, but lets the snail stay and after a moment, brings her hand to stroke her shell "You're not supposed to be here. Or like me. She betrayed me, you know? You should treat me like that, too."

The snail only anwer is to munch lightly on the side of Gem's thumb where it is resting on her own thigh, not at all aiming to hurt. It is such a dumb, senseless gesture. Gem feels like a dagger was just carved into her back and feels t twist, makes her get misty-eyed.

She stops looking down at Pearl's snail, it's become too much. Instead, she tries to look at her own snail but finds she is nowhere to be found.

Gem can only hope she isn't crawling into Pearl's lap.

[dixonsstinkysock]

ACT TWO SPOILERS! Jayce Talis x Reader _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

“Jayce?”

He froze, a voice he thought he’d never hear again spoke. This couldn’t have been a worse time. His usual neatly-kempt hair was unruly, down to his cheeks. His clean-shaven face now covered by the bushy brown beard. Jayce turned in the direction of the voice, he’d been waiting for this moment, to see you again.

“Y/N?”

His emotions shown through his face, fluctuating into surprise, confusion and…horror. You were like them. Viktor had done something to you. Your once vibrant, lively eyes now replaced by the lifeless, shimmering power of the Hexcore. Many pieces of the iridescent metal scattered your forehead, another mark showing you’ve been “saved”.

“Jayce…I thought I would never see you again.” A spiritless chuckle left your mouth—a contrast from the usual boisterous laughter. You step foward, your hand settling on his bicep and squeezing. Jayce slowly backs away from you, his face frozen and in shock from your appearance. Your other hand finds its place on his right bicep, holding him in place and stopping him from moving any farther.

“Jayce, Viktor is waiting for you. If you wish to see him, I must take your weapon.”

“I—I have to go.”

He yanks himself away from your hold, now back to the small steps backwards. As he turns and sprints away, he crashes into multiple tents and stalls, as if he’s fighting something—or someone.

The child that let him towards Viktor’s hiding place finally let go of Jayce’s hand. Now pointing inside of the huge dome area. He already knows where Viktor is, this isn’t the first time but he still hesitates. The child walks back to his previous spot before Jayce almost obliterated him.

“Forgive me.”

In all of the universes he had been in, this is the first he has seen you like this. Jayce wants to look back, he wants to see you one last time, for he knows what happens to the people Viktor “save” once he dies. He doesn’t look back—he can’t. He won’t remember you like this…he won’t fail. Not this time, he’ll succeed, for you.

He understands now.

[nylibrty]

ride me ⸝ ⸝ ⸝ b.stewart

「pairing」 uconn!breanna stewart x reader

「summary」 you're so needy for her, but breanna just refuses to get off the game.

「cw」 smut. thigh riding, degradation, oral

「notes」 this lowk feels ooc for uconn stewie... but its fine......... uconn gamer bf stewie save me.

she just wouldn't get off that damn game. it had been hours at this point. the minute breanna got back from practice, she was sat in the living room playing on her console. you didn't quite understand what she was up to, but it made her happy so you were happy.

that was until she failed to take care of your needs. you had been sending her downright filthy messages all day, patiently waiting for her to get home and take care of you. but when she stepped through the door she had hopped into the shower and then sat on the couch and played her game. you barely got a kiss.

you had tried everything, walking through the living room in a slutty outfit and bending over in front of her to 'pick up something'. she didnt bat an eye. you had tried sitting dangerously close to her in said outfit, running your finger teasingly up and down her forearm. when normally she would pounce on you that second, eating you out until your legs were numb, she barely looked at you. at this point, you were beginning to get fed up, you needed her so bad and she wasn't giving in.

"please bre," you whined into her ear, gripping her bicep. finally, she froze in place, her hands going still against the controller and her face flushing a deep red. she paused the game and set the controller down on the cushion next to her. she turned to look at you, a certain glint in her eye that you couldn't quite place.

her large, slim hand came up and cupped your chin. she moved your face foward, her hot breath suddenly against your ear as she spoke in a gentle voice, "if you're gonna be a slut and distract me, you'll have to get off on my thigh all by yourself."

you whined at that, your thighs clenching together at her impossibly smooth voice. "please babe, i'll be good." you whimpered, your hand coming up to ball the fabric of the hoodie she wore. her hand left your chin and made its way down to join her other hand on your hips. she helped you up onto her bare thigh, her boxers riding up high enough to leave you plenty of bare space to grind.

"make yourself cum." she commanded, turning all her attention back to the game on the screen. your hands looped around her neck as you began to grind down slowly. the feeling was blissful at first, but very quickly became not enough, you needed her. your head fell into her shoulder as your hips weakly snapped against her leg.

"bre," you whined, your nails scratching down the back of her neck softly. she ignored your pleas, her attention entirely spent on on the screen in front of her. your hips moved faster, desperate for release. you whined in her ear, your hand moving down her body and tracing the outline of her abs. your back arched against her, her thigh flexing every time you moved your body foward against her leg. the muscles of her thigh hit your clit so perfectly, but it still wasn't enough, you needed bre.

"baby, please, i need you," you whined once more,

and thats all it took, before you knew it, she had given up on trying to pay attention to the game in front of her. she tossed the controller to some side of the couch before flipping you onto your back in a fluid motion. with a gasp, your back hit the cushions and suddenly breanna was on top of you. her hands planted on either side of your head, a stupidly smug smirk on her face. "you wanted attention so bad, i'll give it to you." she growled, her hands quickly ripping off the shorts you had on and laid between your legs. her mouth finding your thighs and biting marks into them that would certainly be present in the morning.

you moaned, your hands tangling in her hair and tugging gently. she kissed everywhere except the one place you needed her, "stop teasing," you whined, urging her to finally give you what you want. but to your dismay, she kept kissing up and down your thighs. leaving dark purple marks on every inch of your skin.

after what felt like forever, she licked a stripe up your cunt. a yelp fell from your lips, the sudden sensation of her tongue against you almost intoxicating. she kissed against your thigh again, "you taste s'good baby" she mumbled, dipping her head back to your folds.

her tongue ran in circles around your clit, eliciting soft whines from you. her fingertips pressed into your thighs, holding your thighs open and from crushing her head. your hips bucked as she wrapped her lips around your clit and sucked softly. "fuck—bre—please," you moaned, nails digging into her scalp.

she moaned against you, the vibrations going through your body and causing even more pleasure. you could feel yourself getting closer and closer, your brain going fuzzy. all you could manage to mutter was breanna's name and pleas over and over again.

"you close baby?" she mumbled against your clit, a smile coming onto her face as she realized you were struggling to respond.

"bre, please, god!" you moaned, your head pushing back against the cushions behind you.

she smiled again, running her teeth down your clit oh so gently. "use your words,"

"yes! fuck," you struggled to get out, your hips thrashing a lot more violently now. with that, she went ten times harder, her blunt nails digging into your hickey-covered thighs and her lips wrapped around your clit sucking hard.

"cum f'me," she mumbled once more, two fingers prodding at your entrance before dipping in. her fingers pumped in and out of you in tandem with her sucking against your clit. she curled every time she pulled out, hitting that spongy spot inside you without fail every time.

with one final thrust, the tight coil that was building up inside of you snapped. white hot heat rushed through your entire body and you could've sworn you saw stars as you tumbled over the edge. barely coherent strings of her name and obscenities fell out of your lips as you came.

she helped you ride out your high, slowing her thrusts and slowing her laps against your cunt. "good girl," she repeated over and over again against you.

once you had come down, she gently pulled out of you and slipped her own fingers into her mouth, moaning quietly at the taste. she moved herself off the couch and scooped you up bridal style,

"i'm still not done with you."

[chimneyz]

Tommy just got off a rough shift, he doesn't know where to go or who to talk to. Out side of his co workers he doesn't talk to anyone else. And the ones he did talk to were Evan's family and friends. He couldn't go to them, not now, not after he ripped apart the one good thing going for him. So, he got into his truck and drove... and drove... and drove. Eventually he stopped. He didn't know what made him stop but he did.

Tommy jumped out of his truck, his feet landing heavily on the ground. He shouldn’t be here, he had no right to be here. He needs to turn around. But he doesn't. Slowly his feet drag foward leading him to the one place he shouldn’t be. His mind screams at him to turn around and go home. No, Tommy doesn't want to spend another night in that empty cold house.

Before he can even realize it, Tommy stops and lifts his hand to knock on the door. After some shuffling behind the door it opens.

"Tommy?" Evan tilts his head , eyebrows furrowing, "W-What are you doing here?"

"I..." the words Tommy desperately needs fail to come to him.

Hesitantly, Evan lifts his hand stroking his thumb against Tommy's wet cheek. Had he been crying? How long has he been crying?

"It’s ok, you're ok." Evan warmly smiles at him. How could he be smiling at him?

Overwhelming emotions bubble kn Tommy’s chest, he couldn't hold it in any longer. As a heart wrenching sob escapes from him Evan wraps his arms around him holding him in close. With a soothing and Evan rubs circles across Tommy’s back, anchoring him in reality.

After some time Evan guides him to bed, taking off his shoes and jeans and helping him put on one of the hoodies Tommy left there after the break up.

Evan adjusts himself under the covers looking up at Tommy with those big blue eyes of his.

"Come on," Evan sooths, "You need this."

Tommy brings himself under the covers and close to Evan, pressing his head against Evan's chest. His heartbeat seeing waves of calm through Tommy’s shaking body. Evan holds him close, away from all the pain and suffering in this world. Tommy doesn't know when but eventually he drifts off to sleep, he knows this will be a one time thing, but this is all he needs right now, Evan by his side holding him near and dear to his heart.

[bonefall]

It’d be interesting to have the whole “kits die commonly” thing be important too. Like Bristle died a war hero and will be remembered, but rowankit was just another young death in the grand scheme of the clans, which means dovewing probably faced cats saying “oh that happens all the time, it’s just how life is out here”

so Ivypool trying to relate would probably set her off

There's also an angle here where it's clear that the other Clans are ready to brush off Rowankit's death as "just a sickly kit" when THEY had no losses. Like the whole world wants to treat her son like he was born doomed instead of a preventable tragedy.

TigerHeartstar was sounding this alarm for MONTHS before the epidemic hit. Everyone knew stocks were low, and they were rolling their eyes like it was a future problem. It was only when people got sick that they sent a patrol out to fetch catmint. There were so many moments where, if they'd treated the situation with the urgency it required, Rowankit would still be here.

But instead, her son is dead, and people try to tell her it's not a big deal because in like 40 cat years she can look foward to also being dead, so she can spend eternity with a permanent baby who will never have a chance to grow up.

It's like the only ones who actually understand Dovewing's grief is her family..... except Ivypool. And that should hurt.

So for BB,

I still need to wait for the ASC arc to wrap up before I rewrite it (S O O N) but, this whoooole situation is going to be a LOT crazier even with JUST the changes I made to BB!TBC.

In BB!TBC, Bristlefrost dies twice. First, she's executed by the Impostor early on for being in a relationship with Rootspring. Then, at the end of the arc, she dies knocking Ashfur out of heaven to burn him up in orbit. Both times, Ivypool failed to protect her daughter even when she'd vowed to do so.

I plan to use this SE as a major opportunity to get into Ivypool's head again, and explore how she's dealing with that. I've also been hanging onto an idea for a few months now; that Rosepetal will actually be Squirrelstar's first deputy, but die either on this mission, or during ASC.

I need a couple more books to come out before I start cooking, but the ingredients smell reaaaal nice right now.

[cherrycola27]

A Favor Among Friends

Masterlist Next Part

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, historical inaccuracies. Regency era men and ideals. Eventual Smut. RegencyEra!AU Banner Credit @thedroneranger

...........................................

Part 1: The First Ball of the Season

Dearest Reader,

I am sure you, just like I am, are buzzing about the upcoming social season. This year's marriage mart is filled with the cream of the crop and overflowing with perfectly beautiful ladies and perfectly handsome gentlemen.

This narrator is excited to see what matches are made this year.

But before the first ball of the season, I hope you all place your bets as to which ladies will find success and which will be left broken hearted.

All eyes this year, seem to be on the house of Lord and Lady Beaumont. At the ripe age of six-and-twenty, their daughter, Miss Y/N Beaumont, enters her fourth social season without a husband. With het older sister being the Dutchess of Miramar, and her older brother set to inherent the family title, one can only wonder why Miss Beaumont has yet to secure a match, and what her family plans to do if she fails again this season.

However, it seems there will be some excitement that many young ladies, and their mamas can look foward too.

After an extended period away in the Americas, this narrator is thrilled to report that the Viscount Bradley Bradshaw has returned to London in hopes to take a wife this season. The only question is, who will be the lucky lady that will catch his eye?

...........................................

"Isn't it wonderful to be back in London?" Your mother chirped from the carriage. "Yes, quite wonderful." You responded, not taking your eyes away from the passing landscape. You sighed.

You dreaded being back in London. You already knew that people would be whispering about you in hushed corners. Girls would giggle and cover their smirks as you walked by, a buzz about that fact that you were old, and still unwed.

It's not that you didn't want to marry. You just didn't want to make the wrong choice. You wanted someone who was kind and valued you as more than a body to carry a child. You wanted someone who liked your wit and charm and appreciated the many talents you had.

"Darling." Your mother called, snapping you out of your trance.

"Hmm?" You hummed back as you turned to face her and your father.

"I asked if you enjoyed your time in Miramar with your sister and the Duke?" Your mother repeated. "Yes, Mama, it was absolutely splendid. William, Micheal, and Violet have grown so much since you've seen them last." You beamed as you talked about your niece and nephews.

You had spent several months helping your sister tend to them while she looked for a governess. It had truly been a splendid time, and you wished you had been able to say forever. But, your parents insisted you come home.

"Wonderful." Your mother smiled before her expression turned more serious. "Y/N, there is something your father and I must discuss with you."

"What?" You asked her. "We know that you have had some difficulties securing a match. It is very noble for you to hold out for love, but sometimes, one must forego love and find a sensible match." Your mother began.

"What do you mean?" You say. "What I mean is—" she sighs. "Your sister is a Dutchess. Your brother will inherit the estate, and you— you will have nothing. And I know Eddie would never let you go without, but darling, your father and I want to know you will be taken care of once we are gone." She tells you.

"Eddie and Clarissa would make sure I'm taken care of. So would Marianne and George." You say.

"We know they would." Your father speaks up finally. "But it is not their job. That is the job of a husband. Which is why your mother and I have decided that if you do not secure a match by the end of the season, we will find one for you." He states.

"What?" You shriek. "An arranged marriage? I will not agree to it." You huff. "You don't have a choice. We love you, but we will not let you tarnish the family name by becoming a spinster!" Your father declares.

You open your mouth to respond, but he shoots you a look that lets you know his mind is made up and that this conversation is over. You sulk into your carriage seat and refuse to look at either of your parents for the remainder of the ride.

............

Your first few days back in London are a flurry of trips to the market, the jeweler, and the modiste. Your mother insists that a new wardrobe will help in your quest to sequester a husband. You're fitted with beautiful drapes of satin and silk and lace for what seems like hours until your mother deems you finished. She does allow you to pick the colors of your garments at least, and so, for the first ball of the season, you choose a deep shade of burgundy. You've always been fond of the color. Even though some would say it's melancholy, you think it's just right. The thought of a dress in that color gives you the tinest bit of hope as you prepare for the season.

..........

Viscount Bradley Bradshaw was not thrilled to be back in London. He would much rather be in the countryside, but he had ignored his estate for too long, and it was now to the point that he could no longer manage on his own. He needed a wife. Someone else to share the burden with.

He didn't need, nor really want, a love match. But he did want someone smart, sensible, kind, and willing to bear his heirs. He wanted someone he could have a conversation with, and that could, at the very least, be his friend.

He'd heard much about the ladies that were available this season, and there seemed to be several promising options. He just hoped he could find someone quickly, have a short courtship, an even shorter engagement, and be married before the meddling mamas sicked their daughters on him.

He ran his hands over his face in the back of his carriage. There were so many things he needed go do this week before the first ball of the season.

He needed to collect a few payments, pay the staffs wages, and head to the tailor. Many of his suits were now too tight in the shoulders. The months he'd spent traveling and made him broader and more muscular than he once was. He couldn't risk being on the dance floor with a potential wife and have his seams bust.

He glanced outside his carriage and saw the parade of ladies and their mothers walking around and gossiping.

"One season, Bradley, you can do this for one season." He whispered to himself before grabbing his journal and writing.

...............

The first ball at the home of Lord and Lady Whittmore came faster than you imagined. It seemed you'd just unpacked your trunk when your ladies' maids came in to help you dress and prepare for the evening.

They tied your corsets and stays, fastened each tiny button, styled your hair into an elegant half up, half down hairstyle, and helped you adorn yourself with a few simple jewels that your mother insisted on.

Standing back from your mirror, you looked every bit the part of an eligible bachelorette. Your deep red dress accentuated your features. The sparkling stones sewn onto it caught the light beautifully.

Your silk gloves elongated your arms, and the garnet necklace and earrings you wore matched your dress perfectly.

Your father smiled warmly, and your mother gasped when you descended the stairs to the foyer where they were waiting for you along with your brother and his wife.

"Y/N! You look most marvelous. Surely you will be the crown jewel of the ball!" Your sister-in-law, Clarissa, gushed as she hugged you.

"Thank you, Clarissa." You smiled at her warmly before your mother ushered everyone out to the carriages. You rode with Eddie and Clarissa to the Whittmore estate, thankful to have a reprieve from your parents talking your ear off about how important it was for you to find a match, and this ball would be your best chance.

The Whittmore estate was lovely when you arrived. Candles lit up the great rooms, lively string music played. There was delicious food and drinks at every corner. Lady Whittmore handed you your dance card, which you quickly secured around your wrist.

Your brother insisted on taking you on a turn about the room, which meant you stopped to talk to several noblemen and had several ask to place their name on your card.

You can't remember half of those you danced with. Just that they would step on your feet or only talk about themselves. Anytime they asked you a question, it was about how many children you wanted and if you knew how to run a house. They didn't care that you were well read, knew three languages, or that you could play the harp. Heirs, and lots of them. That's all they cared about.

After a quatrain with some Lord old enough to be your father, you stepped away from the dance floor in hopes of taking a break and catching your breath. You grabbed a glass of champagne and tried to find a quiet place to sit and have a moment to yourself. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. A large body collided with yours, causing you to trip and spill your drink, and there's all over yourself.

"Oh my goodness! This dress is new!" You shrieked as you frantically tried to dry it with your hankerchief.

"My apologies, Miss. I wasn't watching where I was going." The person who crashed into you said.

"Of course you weren't. You Lords waltz around here with your noses so high in the air that you forget to look down and pay attention." You shot back at them.

There was a moment of silence where you realized that you probably shouldn't have said that. Especially if you wanted to find a husband.

"I'm sor—" you began as you looked up. But once you saw who it was, your words died in your throat.

"Bradley Bradshaw?" You breathed not, not quite believing it was him standing before you. "Ducky? Ducky Beaumont? Is that you?" He asked with a smile.

"No one calls me Ducky anymore, not even Edmond." You say. "Well then, what do they call you?" Bradley asked you.

"Mine name, or Miss Beaumont." You reply. "Miss Beaumont?" Bradley asks you.

"Yes. I am still Miss Beaumont, even though this is my fourth season." You sigh. "Well— I have a had time believing that you of all people struggle with finding a match, Ducky." Bradley smiles at you.

You're just about to correct him again when he suddenly grabs your hand and sweeps you out onto the floor for a waltz. "What was that all about, Lord Bradshaw?" You ask him using his formal title.

"Well, Ducky. There is a young lady who has been pestering me all evening, and I needed to get away from her." Bradley said as he directed your attention to a girl who looked rather annoyed with you.

"Ah, I see." You chuckle. "So, Ducky, tell me, how have you gone four seasons without a husband?" Bradley asks you as the two of you dance.

"It is Miss Beaumont, Lord Bradshaw. We are no longer children, and I am no longer chasing you and my brother around the countryside while our mothers play cards." You say to him. "But, I have simply not been able to find someone who appreciates me and is kind. Everyone only cares about how many children I want and what my dowery is. Not once today have I been asked if I read or if I know another language or if I can play an instrument!" You huff. Bradley chuckles.

"Well, do you read?" He asks you before giving you a spin. "Yes, I read all kinds of books." You reply. "Do you know any other languages?" He asks with a chuckle. "I know three! I speak Spanish, French, and Italian!" You exclaim. "And what about musical instruments? Can you play any?" He smiles at you. "I am most accomplished with the harp." You smile back at him.

"Well, you are very well rounded, Miss Beaumont, certainly interesting." Bradley tells you.

"And you are the only person in this room who knows that. Which is probably why I am on my way to be an old maid at the age of six-and-twenty." You sigh.

"That is not old. I am not much older than that myself. I went to school with your brother, and we are both barely two-and-thirty." Bradley says as the song ends.

"Well, I appreciate the thought. Thank you for the dance, Lord Bradshaw." You say as you curtsey to him.

"No, thank you, Ducky." He smiles and winks at you before bowing and walking away.

You had butterflies in your belly for the rest of the evening. If you were being truthful with yourself, you'd always had feelings for Bradley. Ever since you were a girl, you were captivated by your brother's best friend, always chasing the two of them around your estate, which earned you the nickname he so foundly called you.

You can remember the exact moment you realized your feelings for Bradley weren't platonic. It was when you were fourteen, and he and your brother had come home from their second year at university. The tall, lanky boy you'd spent summers with had filled out into a broad, brawny man.

And even though he was older, Bradley was always kind to you. Which is why it crushed you that he went away the same year you made your debut. You'd always hoped that maybe—just maybe—he would court you.

Maybe that's why you'd never tried too hard to find a suitor because deep down, you were holding out for Bradley. And now, that he's back, you hope that this might be the year that you find a husband.

..............

The next day, you were giddy as calling hours approached. You prayed that if anyone came, it would be Bradley.

When a valet came and said there was a caller for you, you practically leaped from your seat on the sofa, only to be met with disappointment that it was Lord Artenson. He was followed by Lord Phillips, Lord Martin, and Lord Herrington, who was determined to have you as his third wife.

You sighed and resigned yourself to reading a book once Lord Herrington finally left. Calling hours were almost over, and you were silently disappointed that Bradley had not come. But really, it was foolish of you to think that he would. You were his best friend's little sister, practically his own little sister. You were his Ducky, and he would never think of you as anything more.

You were just about to head upstairs to your room and your parents to their own when a valet came in the drawing room.

"Excuse me Lord and Lady Beaumont, it seems there is another visitor here for Miss Beaumont." He spoke.

"Really?" Your father asked. "Who is it?"

"The Viscount Bradshaw."

Tagging those who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @desert-fern @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @beyondthesefourwalls @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @horseshoegirl @djs8891 @roosters-girl @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @mshistorylover @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @princess76179 @schoollover @cheyrenee @angelbabyyy99 @bobfloydsbabe @sunlightmurdock @sebsxphia @atarmychick007 @queenlmno @sweetwhispersofchaos @mamaskillerqueen @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @withahappyrefrain

[herzzgeist]

One Piece Headcanons - Renamed

Characters: Zoro, Law | Trope: Them giving you pet names | Content: for female readers / Wholesome - enveloping you in fluffy teddy bears

A/N: Clearly, you are their kryptonite. Feelings are blossoming towards you and what better way than to give you a 'different' kind of name? This is for the girls out there, who need some red tint on their faces and make their hearts go 'doki doki' ఌ

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

My Girl It involuntarily slips out of him, when he’s either extremely proud or confident in your abilities to conqueror anything standing in your way. His chest swells with pride, whenever he sees you take on hordes of marines, kicking their asses without effort. And the way you move, it all makes it seem so easy. A ferocious and passionate woman? Count him in.

“Oi (Y/n)! Are you alright over there?”

He calls out to you while watching you fight five marines at the same time. With one single blow, they bite the dust. You heard the swordsman yell something incohorrently.

“Huh? Did you say something, Zoro?”

“Oh uh, no. Nevermind.”

Tilting your head in question, you shrug it off nonchalantly and proceed in printing those marine fools some more footprints into their behinds. The swordsman chuckles to himself.

“Hm, that’s my girl.”

Sweet thing Is what he calls you when he’s quite playful. Always his first choice when teasingly bickering around with you, sometimes leaving his lips with a hint of sarcasm. It drives you insane - and that’s his goal. How can he resist that pouty face, when you huff at him like that. Naturally, he won’t admit it to anybody, not even you. You are just his sweet thing, end of story.

“Come on, Zoro! Let me try it!”

“No means no, (Y/n). That’s high potent sake. Nothing for a little girl like you. It’s the ‘I’ma split your head the next morning’ kind of alcohol, you don’t want that, trust me.”

Holding out to the mug in his hand, which dodges your failed attempts in grasping it, you blow up your cheeks in annoyance. No chance, (Y/n). The Vice Commander won’t let you taste the ‘demon’s blood’, but your expression changes soon after, for you have a secret weapon. His kryptonite is laid bare.

“You’re just afraid I will beat you in a drinking competition.”

“Oh? Now I wanna see you try. Drink up, buttercup!”

He hands over another mug, sake nearly overflowing from the brim.

“I can taste victory already!”

“Oh sure, sweet thing.”

Though you haven’t even placed your lips onto the rim, to let the brazen liquid flow down your throat, you’re already burning up. It’s the handsome smile he flashes at you, while lulling you in with his raspy voice. To Zoro’s notice, he doesn’t understand, why you’re already glowing so hard. He just called you his sweet thing, so what?

"Sweet thing?"

"I mean, aren't you?"

Oh dear . .

Hot stuff This man is so TACKY. Zoro isn’t a man of big words, hence he sticks to the silly namings, even when things get ‘steamy’ he prefers to adress you softly and caring. Unless you ask him to get more ‘foward’ with his wording, which by the by only you can unlock in him. After all, he’s the King of Hell and there’s no way he keeps away the more ‘ferocious’ side from you, giving you the whispered spicy nothings you deserve. . . However, that stays behind closed doors, dear (Y/n).

“That’s a nice workout routine you got there. Care to share, hot stuff?”

While you’re on your felt like quadrillionth biceps curl, you nearly let the dumbbell fall to the ground by his rash choice of words. Hot stuff? Heat rises into your head. Is he doing this on purpose?

“D-Don’t tell me you like what you see?”

“I do. Very.”

Screaming internally, you find it way too ambiguous of you. He just means the work out. He just means the work out. Based on your reaction, the green-hair can tell he must have said something to fluster you, and now he is the one, babbling in mere abashment and uncertainty.

“Yeah . . you look hot- I MEAN you look good! Great work out for you. Tones your body nicely- WAIT NO I . .”

Backing up he slowly treads out of the room, rambling about and occassionally stumbling over his own feet, or words in his case. You have to supress a girly giggle as you observe how his face begins to radiate. It’s the first time he ever called you that and something tells you, it won’t be the last. In the distance you can hear:

"Shit! What was that about? Hot stuff? What was I thinking? Damn it, might as well just cut off my tongue."

That drama queen.

Dove You’ve gained his full trust, respect and affection. It’s a sign of his feelings caving in for you. When you hear him say it, the strong and composed swordsman he is, melts by the sight of you. There’s nothing better than calling you his Dove, seeing you take on all kinds of colours in your face, mainly red that is. Besides sake, you get him drunk on a different level. So, KAMPAI, Dove!

The Straw Hats organised one of their famous banquettes once more. Everyone is cheerful and in the mood for good food and head spinning ale. The Vice Commander however is nowhere to be seen, for he usually hangs around the sake barrels most of the time, when events like these are planned. As you take a look at the crows nest, you find your sleepy swordsman staring out the window.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Mhm? Hi, guess so.”

Shifting to the side to give you some space next to him, he stretches his arm out, beckoning you to come over. You comfortably nuzzle against him, soaking in the warmth he emits. This feels . . strange, having such an intimate moment as friends. Perhaps, you hope it could turn out to form into something more? As if he read your mind, he speaks.

“Hey, umm . . this might sound weird, but uh - can I call you Dove?”

“Dove? A weird name indeed, but I take it. What made you think that suits m-“

Before you can finish your sentence, he shuts you up by turning your face to his, with his fingers on your jaw, and gently places his lips on yours. Well, that explains why he chose to call you Dove. Butterflies start to flutter around in your stomach and you gaze deeply into his onyx coloured eye.

“I think it’s . . cute.”

“It is.”

Taking a deep breath in, he continues.

"Whenever I feel down, you are the one bringing me up again. You are the wings lifting me up, giving me the ability to soar through the skies, showing me a different angle of the world."

Big words for a man of his usually reserved nature. His arm snakes around your waist from the side and pulls you even closer. Your heart just left out a beat. From now on, you gladly are his Dove.

(Y/n) Did you notice it? Yes! He left out the suffix. You should be honored he decided to grade you a level up. But in all honesty, he took a liking to you and your name. He thinks it to be rather pretty, it would be a shame to destroy the sound of beautifully aligned letters, as if molesting the title of a charming book. You have earned his trust. Interest - is peaked.

Sitting at a bar counter, you enjoy the evening at an inn, where the crew decided to take a break. It wasn't as calm as you excepted it to be, for a overly friendly and slimy man couldn't stop talking, obviously hitting on you.

"Can't you see she's uncomfortable around you, dumbass?"

The creep scurries off to the other side of the bar, all the tension in your shoulders crumbling, sighing subsequently in relief.

"Thank you, Captain."

Law gives you a reassuring nod and goes his way again.

"It's my job, (Y/n)."

Almost waiting for him to speak out that '-ya' of his, you tilt your head. Did the loud stir of the bar swallow that small suffix or . . does he deem you worthy of calling you by your normal name now? Your heart skips a beat out of happiness, hoping for the latter.

Sweetheart Teasing is one of his daily routines. Running out of ideas to get you either flustered or bewildered, he saw fit to take it up a notch. His heart races whenever he rolls the ‘sweetheart’ off his tongue, in order to adress you with a hidden sarcastic intent. Over time though, you begin to be his sweetheart. Just by the thought of you growing on him makes him shiver - positively.

"Why do you keep on doing this (Y/n)?"

"What do you mean?"

Innocently nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie, you flutter your puppy eyes up at the now faltering Captain, who furrows his brows at you.

"Baking cookies? We're pirates! Not some sort of- mhm . ."

You stuff his mouth with the tasty and crumbly goodness. Laughing at his fuming face, it's obvious to you he isn't completely opposed to your sweet counter attack. He keeps on chewing.

"Good right?"

Earning a low rumble in response, he averts his gaze and gulps loudly. His stern eyes sway over to the tray, filled with more crunchy cookies and you deny him that 'hungry' wish right away.

"Nope. Those are for the others. That was the only one for you. Besides, I thought you didn't like sweets., let alone dough."

Suddenly he takes a seat next to you, leaning in closer to you. His lips curling mischeviously, face now dangerously near yours.

"Oh how considerate of you, sweetheart."

Hold on, sweetheart? Frozen in place, you stare into those mesmerizing grey orbs, the perfect moment for the doctor to 'shamble' the snack into his hand and make a go for it, which he does without a word, practically sprinting out of the kitchen door.

"H-Halt! I mean wait! Stop right there! Trafalgar you thief!"

Darling He has you trapped in his room and vice versa. There you stand, no chance to escape. (No, he won’t sing it to you.) Besides singing that sweet jazz, that deep sultry voice loves to call you his Darling, when the time has come to playfully show you, that you have affected him. It’s a sweet name, however it bears a hidden, more lecherous intent, depending on how he enhances his words around you. Once or twice you caught him oogling you with those steel eyes, that’s when you realise, he does have a male instict, wanting to ‘court’ you, simply explained.

It's time for your annual classic health check up, no devil fruit voodoo, for he prefers to reserve his power, if not neccessarily needed. Meaning, you'll have to - strip. Oh don't worry, you're still wearing your underwear, nonetheless, you're heart beats out of your chest whenever he inspects your body, writing down your vitals and searching for any anomalies.

"Tell me if you feel any pain or discomfort."

Some touches tickle you, some induce your heart with pumping fuel and others make you go weak in the knees. The last one is new. What makes your position even more difficult now, is the fact that the stethoscope is up next, to check your heart rate.

"Are you nervous?"

"As if I am. It's just . . cold. That metal . . thingy."

"Stethoscope."

"I was about to say that."

His breath grazes along your naked skin, as he keeps on listening to your heart from the front and back. To your sassy comment, he can't help but chuckle lowly and gives your back a gentle glaze of his slim, wrapped in rubber gloves fingers, before moving on.

"Of course you were, darling."

If that doctor puts on that silly stethoscope again, he would have heard that literal jungle drum in your chest. He knows what it does to you, when he plays that extra sultry card on you, all with a hint of mock and sarcasm. Yet, a tiny slip in his voice tells you, he actually enjoys calling you that. - He is torture on two legs, keeping you on your toes.

My heart This is the part where you have defeated him completely. He is addicted to you and your cute reactions of him calling you his heart. Who would have thought a cold and serious man like him could be unintentionally romantic? Though he appears to be lacking the ability to express his emotions thoroughly, it doesn’t mean he can’t slip by and whisper your new title at you by coincidentially meeting in the Polar Tang’s corridors. As long as there is nobody around, snooping about of course. Though uncomfortable to show it in public, he gives it his all to prove his point that he is oh so head over heels for you.

He HAS HAD IT with you and your annoyingly adorable round puffy cheeks, whenever you throw a temper tantrum at his commands you vaguely dare to disobey. You leave him no choice but to:

"Room . ."

"O-oh no. Wait I'll-"

"Shambles."

You'll never get used to that. Finding yourself far off from the others at the harbour, he has warped the both of you to a secluded alley of the adjoining town.

"You. You. You! Just. Just!"

Visibly upset he throws his arms through the air, close to snake his giant palms around your neck to strangle you, however restraining himself with a forceful shake in his hands. Restless he walks up and down the narrow cramped aisle. He comes to a stop before you.

"I BEG you, to stop acting so god damn cute! Your back talk gives me even more reason to just . . to just-"

You shrink away from his intimidating demeanor and apologize with glistening eyes. A white hat on your head takes you aback, for he roughly propped it onto you, now pulling down the tip to restrict your vision and . .

"You idiot . ."

. . kisses you.

"Stop being a bratty crew mate and be mine already, my heart."

[pannman]

So I can not find FTM Hazbin smut so I made some. Keep in mind I'm Ace and this is my first smut

First Time

Angel Dust x transmasc Reader

CW: Anal sex, Anal fingering, biting, marking

"So shy. That's cute babes..." Angel said standing there shirtless as you tried utter up the words. Just to sound like you were confident. Like weren't a mess around him. You were failing miserably. He giggled at you're flustered self sitting on the bed before climbing on top of you. All four arms caging you in. "You sure you want to do this?" He asked. "Yes!" You answered without hesitation. He pulled your shirt off leaving your binder on. He leaned back foward. His face was inches from yours. He leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Don't worry babies, I'll be in charge this time." He was well aware this was your first time having sex and he was planning on making this a night to remember. He met your lips in a kiss. His tongue swiping inside of your mouth. He tastes like vanilla and cigarettes. He makes out with you before kissing your neck. He covers your neck in pecks. The sensation puts in you in ecstasy before you feel the sharp pain as you bites down onto your neck.

The pain only turns you on more and then he suckles on the bite creating a prominent mark. He grabs you and flips you on your stomach. He begins to kiss the back of your neck down your back a little while running his bottom set of hands down your body. His top set of hands messaging your shoulders. Your eyes are half lidded enjoying the way Angel is caressing your body before the hands messaging your shoulders suddenly pin you down. And the lower set of hands running up and down your body begin to unbutton your pants. He pulls them down and now your boxers are the only things on your body keeping it up to imagination. He runs his hands down your thighs and back up all the way to your ass cheeks. He squeezes them which causes you to moan out loud. Your face turning a blush red. He pulls your boxers right off and feels up your cheeks some more. Suddenly he removes his hands from your ass and takes off his skirt and underwear, disgarding them off to the side. You look to see he was wearing a lacy thong and it sends a warm heat in your crotch. An image of him in nothing but that thong creeps its way in to your mind.

He leans in. You can feel his breath on your neck breaking you from your fantasies. "Are you ready?" You nodded and gasped at him nibbling your ear. He sits up. You are still restrained against the bed when you feel one of his fingers covered in lube breach your asshole. He slowly pushes it deeper and deeper. You feel so full. You wonder how his cock is going to fit but only for a moment because he begins thrusting his finger in and out. He starts out at a slow pace and then speeds up a bit. It's a pleasurable sensation that's quite hard to describe. He suddenly places a second finger in. Now he is plunging two fingers in. He continues to do this and you feel tightness building up as you moan his name. But just as you're about to climax Angel removes his fingers. You feebly attempt to turn your head but to no avail as you whine in protest.

"Relax, baby I'm just getting to the good part. That's all. You can't have ALL the fun, ya know." He lubricates his dick and pumps it a few times before you feel his tip make contact with your anus. He pushes in slowly. Stopping frequently so you can adjust. His dick is much bigger than two fingers it feels like. You squirm and twitch before it's in so deep you feel more full than you ever have. He waits a while for you to get used to it. You cry out when he first thrusts into you. He thrusts in and out and he begins to moan as he loves how tight you feel around his cock. He pumps in and out of you at a slow but steady pace. You moan and mewl and make an orchestra of unholy noises. He praises you.

"You're doing so good baby! You sound absolutely beautiful!" And with that he starts pounding into you now. It's a lot but it sends your heart racing and you feel that tightness coming back. "I'm close!" You shout. "Me too baby!" You felt a snap and a wave of pleasure. Angel continued to buck into you for a while until you felt him empty a heavy load into your ass which felt super wet from cum and lube. Angel pulled out leaving you feeling empty. You felt his hands restraining you release you as he fell next to you. Both of you breathing heavy. You looked at him and his happy exhausted expression made you feel warm inside. You relaxed as he pulled you onto his chest. You rested your head on his fluff. "I love you." You whispered. "I love you too" he responded softly. You both fell asleep that night in each other's embrace.

[hameijina]

Thinking about Hermes and Apollo making a whole DnD campaing for the gods, it has story for about months of game and so much hidden lore that could make the best writters cry on shame of themselfs

But it don't go foward because most of the gods failed on the first one hour of game and decided that they hated it

The only ones who liked and kept playing where Athena (she enjoys the strategy part), Artemis (wants to see her brother happy), Dionysus (just like the chaos) and Ares (fantasy violence is good to him too)

Anyway, thank you for comming to my tedtalk

[life-winners-liveblog]

Well this will be fun to watch.

Good luck..? I guess?

- ???

Grian: Ok, Scar, you'll go first.

Scar: Really!?! Oh yeah!

Grian: Yes, what is your character doing right now?

~~~~~

Grian: You make your way to the clearing. What do you do?

Scar: Oh, so I need to search for the med- meci-

Grian: Medicinal herbs, yes.

Scar: I'm going to look around for them.

Grian: Give me a perception roll.

Scar: Oh sure! 14! That's good right?

Grian: You make your way to the clearing, the cover of the tre leaves fading into a clear blue sky, you see bushes of various shades and heights growing on the grass floor, you quickly find the herbs you were looking for surrounded by bushes of other plants.

Scar: Do I recognize these other plants?

Grian: ... Give me a nature roll.

Scar: Oh right uh...1?

Martyn: A nat 1? We have our first nat 1 of the campaing people.

Scott: Is...that bad?

Grian: It's called a critical fail...you look at the plants and they look so alien to you that you start to worry they aren't even plants.

Scar: What!?!

~~~~

Grian: You come across a wooden hut and...

Scar: And?

Grian: We leave you here while we move to a different part of the woods, Pearl?

Pearl: Yeah?

Grian: What is your character doing right now?

~~~~~

Grian: You want to...tame...the werewolf.

Pearl: Yes.

Grian: Olive?

[I agree with mom!]

Grian: Of course you do ...uh...Would that count as charisma or animal handling?

Pearl: I don't know, you are the uh...

Martyn: DM?

Pearl: That.

Grian: Roll animal handling then-

Pearl: Nat 20.

Grian: I- ok then, you manage to somehow calm the werewolf down so now you can make your way foward.

~~~~~

Grian: As you make your way back to your hut you see...a fae?

Scar: That's me!

Grian: uh...yes.

Scar: Our characters are meeting Pearl.

Pearl: Sure thing mate.

Grian: I'm going to leave you here Pearl as we move to the town, to a traveling elf and his body guard.

Scott: My turn!!! Ok, this is exciting.

Martyn: And mine... I'm the bodyguard.

Scott: Well make sure to protect me.

Martyn: Of course.

~~~~

Grian: The guard stops you-

Martyn: Why!? We litterally didn't do anything!

Scott: You tried to punch a merchant.

Martyn: Well he shouldn't have scammed us! I'm going to tear the guard a new one.

Scott: Martyn-

Grian: Roll for intimidation.

Martyn: 18 baby! Listen here, guard, if you don't want to catch these hands like that con man you better not even try anything, we are in a hurry and we have no time to waste, If we arrive late to our meeting with the high bishop it will be your fault and you will be punished for it.

Grian: ...The Guard quickly scurries off.

~~~~~

Grian: You finally reach the town church just in time for your meeting with the bishop.

Scott: We aren't late? Good.

Grian: And I'll leave you here while we switch to Cleo, what are you doing?

~~~~~

Grian: You make your way trough the tunnels of the city when you come to a circular room, light filtering from above-

Cleo: Is there anything I should know about in the room?

Grian: Roll for perception.

Cleo: 11.

Grian: Ok, you see this room is covered by a mess of debris but you think you can recognize metal stairs leading upstairs.

Cleo: Hmpf, Good enough for me.

Grian: So do you make your way upstairs?

Cleo: Not yet, what would I need to roll to move the debris?

Grian: I'd say athletics.

Cleo: Hmmm, 13, is that enough?

Grian: It is. You start moving the debris when the ground starts to move, roll a dexterity save.

Cleo: Ah! Finally some action, 6.

Grian: You try to keep your balance but fail and fall.

[castingspellsanddaisies]

What's Aurelien Tchouameni's personality & what's his type?? | Tarot Reading

DISCLAIMER: Whata beautiful man - I mean... Take everything here with a grain of salt - and have fun!!

His general personality:

bouquet + fox + tree + key + fish + crossroads | back of the deck: dog

5 of pentacles reversed + 4 of swords + the world + 6 of wands reversed + 3 of wands + the moon | back of the deck: queen of pentacles

I see he's a very friendly person who likes to help everybody all the time. He's too friendly for his own good sometimes. I feel like sometimes he ends up putting his own needs behind so to make someone else happy. That's a problem. He has a teamwork mentality that's very good, but he needs to create some boundaries.

I see him being a social chameleon. That's right, not butterfly, but a chameleon. Because he ''becomes'' alike whomever he's next to. Is that a problem? Yes! Who are you, Aurelien?

I see him being very aware of this about him, and he feels like a ghost among others sometimes. He's looking for a away to open up more to life.

What's his type in women?

man + books + bouquet + cross + key + letter | back of the deck: rider

4 of swords + king of cups reversed + page of pentacles reversed + the fool + the empress + 10 of wands reversed | back of the deck: the chariot

Straight foward: a go-getter.

It makes sense. We saw him failing to assert himself most of times, so he looks for someone to do it for him lol

I see he's into people who work with the public, who help people. A communicator. He wants someone pretty, obviously. Someone wise and open about her needs.

He wants someone who can push him to be his best version, even if it takes a little bit of manipulation from her part. He likes when women act a bit moody with him.

He feels attracted towards someone that he sees acting fearless about her dreams. Someone very nurturing and who makes it hardship not seem so hard when doing by her. It reminds me of those movies about people overcoming their fears and going for it in the end haha

What I get is that, most of times, Aurelien's into people who are living his wishes for him. He wants to take courage from them.That's what attracts him into someone.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That's all for now, folks!!

'till next time <33

[i-wanna-die-like-now]

When Aizawa had first seen Danny lose control it had been during the U.S.J attack, he had seen the nomu on his back and his hair stood up on end, flowing on a wind that wasn't there. The hair had reminded him so much of Oboro he had looked away and didn't even try to erase the boys quirk as he barrelled foward with a guttural scream, a scream that was full of pain and anguish, a screm that still haunted his nightmares. he hangs onto that day as the day he had failed as a teacher. He had let him run into a dangerous fight and didn't even try to stop him because just the site of his student looking like that made his chest feel even more crushed than the weight of the nomu on his back.

He had later found out from Tsuyu that Danny hadn't dived foward to attack the nomu, he had went for the man with the hands that clung all over his body that stood a few meters away.

The second time it had been in a practice match where Danny was paired with Kaminari, the blonde had shocked him on accident when he patted his shoulder in celebration and Danny had snapped. He had yelled at the blonde as his hair once again floated up, being closer he could see clearly that his hair was more like fire than hair. Eyes glowing a menacing shade of green that looked more toxic than they previously did, hands clenching with so much force they were shaking.

He had looked away again.

While it wasn't identical he couldn't stand the sight.

When he was sure it was back to normal he scolded him and Danny had apologised to Kaminari and had asked to leave because he didn't feel well, Aizawa let him. He had let him because he couldn't face seeing him any longer.

The third time Danny had been crying outside on the ground, bright white hair whipping in the wind. He had gotten closer out of concern for his student but as he did he noticed his hair was floating, in that moment he had a thought of just leaving, he was quiet enough that Danny wouldn't have noticed he was there to begin with.

He decided to stay.

He held the boy as he cried and as he placed his hand on his head to comfort him his mind flashed back to his friend he had lost, and he almost started crying along with him.

The next time it wasn't as jarring, Danny was fighting in the sports festival and although he felt the burn in his throat at the reminder of his dead friend he was okay.

Hazashi wasn't.

He stopped his exited announcements and was staring, he didn't look away from Danny as he continued his rambling with a slight crack in his voice. When there was a break in the festival he had whispered to Aizawa that he needed a hug, he cried into him and this time Aizawa let himself cry too.

He hadn't seen Danny take the final exam in person but being paired up with Sero he had been against Nemuri so both he had Hazsahi had heard all about it together.

At the training camp he didn't see much of Danny, but the moment he and the rest of the class found out about Bakugou being taken his hair had started to rise and Aizawa had looked away again. He wasn't proud of himself but the raw emotions of his own failure was staring him in his face and he didn’t want to think about his friend, he didn’t want to think about what Oboro would think of him. And so he refused to look at the young boy that brought up those memories like a coward, a coward that still thought those thoughts even without the visual reminder there.

The next time was a shock to everyone, Danny had came into class in high spirits and was smiling so much that he rivalled All Might. Half way though the class he had jumped up, tears in his eyes as he asked to leave, hair floating and blowing in an imaginary wind yet again. Aizawa was going to say no, he was going to lecture him for interrupting but something in his students eyes made him pause.

Panic.

There was no reason for him to be afraid or panicked and yet here he was shaking and in tears over something, Oboro wasn't a thought in his mind as he let him go.

When Danny had told him he already had an ultimate move but couldn't use it because it was dangerous he had thought he was bluffing, Aizawa had brushed it off and gave him the go ahead.

The wail that burst out of his body caused the whole class to freak out, they had all been caught off guard with the loud inhuman wail, it was surprising even to him. Aizawa knew better than to try and erase Danny's quirk at this point so he resorted to covering his ears, eyes focused on his student. When the noise had stopped Danny stood there unmoving, eyes staring at the destruction the waves had caused. Hair blowing as tears streamed down his face.

When he had tried to comfort him he got a croaky apology and Danny fell down, giving apology after apology with a broken voice.

Danny promised to never use it unless there was no other choice. Aizawa didn't want to agree but looking at mess it had created he couldn't help himself, it was far too destructive for a hero to use. The world was lucky he was trying to be a hero, a power like that could level cities.

Aizawa tried his best to comfort his student and the hair didn't feel out of place, it didn't bring up memories or make him uneasy like it had previously. It was a small victory.

It took Aizawa an embarrassing amout of time to realise that his hair was a show of emotion, It made a lot of sense and now that he knew he felt stupid.

Danny was dead.

A simple statement that he had made when telling him about his powers and where he was originally from, something he had said without giving away any emotion.

His hair had started to flow and that was the thing what gave him away.

And once again Oboro was in his mind,

Dead.

He told them about the portal and ghosts with a straight face, he told him about his clone and who had created her. There were only 3 of his kind and Aizawa thinks that must be a lonely existence.

The moment he had broke was when he talked about stepping into the portal, Aizawas stomach filled with dread.

Electrocution.

He had died in his own basement, he was dead.

Danny spoke softly as tears fell, about how it felt like his whole body was being destroyed and put back together again over and over as the ectoplasm introduced itself to his dna. The bitter laugh that spilled from his lips at how he was lucky struck Aizawa’s heart and finally he felt like he understood his student.

Oboro was dead, he couldn't do anything about that but he could help this kid who sat infront of him with tears in his eyes and the same flowing hair that he once had.

Danny was dead, but at least he could still help him live.

[fireheartwraith]

I feel kind of weird making this, but a couple of my posts got some decent amount of notes so I thought I'd share

It's been a while since I've stopped actively following qsmp. Months since I've liveblogged like I used to. At first I just needed a break from the community but still watched on my own time, then I got busy with work/college, and then decided to boycott in solidarity.

After Quackity's "response", I'm leaving QSMP behind for good. I had a lot of fun and genuinely loved this project, but seeing as the creator can't differentiate hate from valid criticisms and workers' rights, I'll do as he says and leave. I encourage my fellow brazilians and french mutuals to do the same. We clearly aren't welcome anyway.

A lot of ex-egg admins (including Dapper, Pomme, and Ramón) have posted statements on Twitter, I urge all those who are unaware of the situation to read them.

If you think we're just haters who want to see the project fail, please just save us both the trouble and block me.

If you're still watching something despite knowing the people who make it special are being exploited, please go fuck yourself. Your special interest is not more important than people's rights. There are ways to still consume your interest while showing support to the workers who, after Quackity's great response, are getting harassed and threatened for speaking up.

Goodbye, everyone. See you on the flip side

EDIT: some people were confused so here is my clarification. You can read them in the notes

@silverware-drawer @white-pyramids-blog @absurdist-pink

Pomme's admin letter (English version):

https://twitter.com/Lumi_Pomme/status/1770924040271589420?s=19

Dapper's admin letter:

https://twitter.com/Dapper_no/status/1770928715964309702?s=19

Ramón's second admin thread:

https://twitter.com/arteamissing/status/1770571029326283195?s=19

Léa's profile. She has made other statement since the first one, as well as reblog other admins coming foward:

https://x.com/Leasagne_?s=09

One of the newest #RespectInQSMP threads. We are calling for a boycott of the QSMP awards btw:

https://twitter.com/thicksklls/status/1770886563653652592?s=19

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

Hush ft. Gojo (part 2)

"Startin to think you're real selfish, know that? Pretty y/e/c eyes cryin on my shirt while your desperate lil puss cries all over my cock. Only care if I make you cum, huh? Mmmm.. But what about me, y/n?"

Satoru slowly slides out, amused when you whine in despair at the emptiness. Shakes his head at your horny ass grabbin your breast, pinching your nipples through your uniform shirt. He tsks before finally givin you some mercy- as well as a deep ass penetrating stroke. "Fuuuuuuck!" It's gut wrenchingly swift and deep, has you falling back against his desk as you cum with a wail of his name. Clutchin pitifully at his shirt, snatchin him down on top of you. Satoru watches in absolute disbelief as you seizure under him from.. One. Fucking. Thrust. "The fuck woman?" Tries covering your open mouth with his palm but he can barely muffle your delirious wordless shrieks. "Hush, y/n!" His own nut now simmers on the surface at your hysterical antics. So Satoru places his hands on either side of your head and gives you another pussy murdering stroke. The arch your back snaps into honestly looks like it hurts to him. "Oh God, Saaatoruuu! Dick so fuckin good.. Love it so much, baby! Love you too.. Love you so so much!" He breathes through his nose sharply at your admission while your insides crush his pulsating cock. You gush his lower half, juices splattering audibly against his pants. That's all she wrote for Saturo. "Calm down, woman! Hoooh shit.. Pussy won't stop milkin my shit!" His head snaps back, damp sweaty strands of his snow white locks fall into his face as thick ribbons of cum splash the inside of your quivering lil puss. "Fuuuuuck! Love you too, honey. Mmm.. Ohhhh! Love you more than you know.. So goddamn much, y/n." He leans foward pressin in deep. Low groans squeezin out through his clenched teeth as he stares at the ceiling unseeing. Another stream shoots out, then another. Satoru gives up on quieting your moans, hands balling to fist on each side of your head at the intense sensation of his never-ending nut. Piercing eyes crossed from you buck underneath him, pussy attempting to suck and wring him dry. He's so preoccupied with listening to your pitchy keens, and draining his load inside you, he fails to notice the absence of voices comin through the walls. Or the shadows outside his office door. Misses Yuuji furiously stomping away when he hears you moan like a pornstar, Megumi and Maki joggin to catch up. Satoru only starts to see straight when you push at his shoulder, signalling his weight bein too much. He leans back, dick sliding out to the tip, still enjoying the clutch of your snug, wet warmth. His head lazily falls forward as he looks back to your disoriented eyes, notices the light perspiration dusting your pretty face. "Still love me?" The fuckin jerk smirks when you flutter around his dick, averting your gaze as you shuffle nervously with shame beneath his sturdy frame. You're tryin to catch your breath; need a moment to collect yourself, already feeling tired from the force of your orgasm. "Please be quiet, Gojo. Damn.. Ass always got somethin to say." Satoru raises a perfect white brow at you. "Comin from the woman that can't keep her mouth shut to save her fuckin life!" You slap at him but just ending up moaning loud and long as he pins each wrist and slowly slides his hard dick back in to the hilt. "Let's see how quiet you can be this time, y/n."