#he told me to fix problems THAT ARE CAUSED BY THE ILLNESS I HAVE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrdixon · 1 year ago

Text

Work in Progress

pairing: pre-negan Alexandria Daryl x f!reader

wc: 8.1k (sorry.)

warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, p-in-v, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), alcohol (sober sex.), mild swearing, some fluff,,,

summary: Your friends peer pressure you into asking Daryl out to the cookout that's taking place tonight.

A/N: this is like my first ever smut officially written and OH MY GOD im so sorry if its terrible i was cringing at some parts. sooooo cliche but i promise ill be better. i realize reading this back that so many of them are slightly out of character but ignore it, i was drunk writing half of this. i also never intended this to be that long and i freaked out reading the word count so. anyways i hope you enjoy and feel free to request anything more!! id be happy to write more for you all.

masterlist!

“I’m telling you, he likes you.” You roll your eyes from your spot at your desk after hearing Maggie’s comment, continuing to focus on your work rather than the idiotic conversation taking place.

“How and why would Daryl like me?” You ask and look up at your three friends Maggie, Carol, and Rosita. It’s like you can pinpoint the exact moment they all mentally facepalm at your question, “I’m just saying.” You mutter under your breath, looking back down at the plans for the reinforcement of Alexandria’s walls. The silence was too loud but you could tell the three of them were all glancing at each other while trying to figure out what to say to you.

“Well for starters, he visits you a lot.” Carol tried to reason, earning a scoff from you. “No I’m serious, he doesn’t even stay home that often. That prick has only stayed for food recently.” The corner of your mouth curls up slightly at her comment, still looking down at your notes.

“Plus he smiles a lot around you, I’ve never seen him smile that hard before… Let alone at all.” Rosita adds. You sigh, finally looking up at your friends and immediately getting startled by all of them looking towards you. You think about what Rosita said and contemplate it for a moment, well he has been hanging around you recently…

“Nope, no way.” They all audibly groan as they turn away from you, “besides. I don’t even like him like that.” Now that earns a scoff from them.

“Oh please. You can hardly keep eye contact with him, let alone speak coherent sentences when he’s around.” Carol retorts, tending to the carnations in a vase in the corner of your study room. You scoff again at the exaggerated example whilst shaking your head.

“Uh uh, I can keep eye contact with him. In fact I have no problem interacting with him because he’s just a friend.” You state bluntly before getting up and putting your notes into a folder behind your seat.

“Oh my god hey Daryl!” Rosita calls out, causing you to quickly fix your hair and spin around with a bright smile on your face. All just to slouch back down onto your chair once you realize it was just to catch you off guard. The three of them laugh silently to themselves while muttering a “we told you so” in unison.

“Fine. I guess I do like him but that does not mean I’m going to do anything about it.” You look down at your lap, hearing clothes shuffling from how quickly they all snap their heads in your direction.

“Why the hell not?” Maggie exclaims, “you know it’s nice. Being in a relationship, plus you guys complement each other well.

You sigh as you spin around in your chair, staring up at the ceiling in thought. “Well… Even if he does like me, I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Bullshit.” Carol says bluntly before walking up to you, “just ask him out. He won’t say no.” You roll your eyes and spin away from her, staring at your wall.

Rosita spins the chair around back so you can face them, “Carol’s right. Daryl has been pining you for like months, maybe even years now.”

“How am I even supposed to ask him out? Like should I ask him to hang out like usual and pop the question or should I ask him to dinner?” You nibble at the end of your finger anxiously, even considering asking him out is terrifying.

“Oh! You should ask him out to the cookout tonight, it’ll be perfect.” Maggie grabs your hands excitedly, flashing her bright smile at you.

“Oh god no I’m not going.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Rosita grabs your hands, forcing you to look at her. You can tell she has an idea, one you won’t like.

“You are going. No questions asked, no objections. And you will ask him out.” You bite your bottom lip, “c’mon…. If you’re lucky you’ll get laid-” Maggie’s hand flies over Rosita’s mouth to stop her but the statement was already heard.

“I’m not going to fuck him on the first date!” You exclaim, your eyes wide in disbelief.

“It’s a date!” Maggie yells, Rosita says the same but muffled from Maggie’s hand over her mouth. You shake your head profusely, waving your hands around as you panic, not wanting to admit asking him out.

The door opens suddenly, all four of your heads snapping towards the door. A very confused Daryl pokes his head in, furrowing his brows at the scene. “Am I interrupting?”

Carol grabs Maggie and Rosita, dragging them towards the door. “Nope, in fact (Y/N) has something to ask you so we’ll leave you to it.” Carol grins “unsuspiciously” at him whilst dragging the other two out. Rosita mouths a “we’ll come back later” while exiting the room, Maggie giving a thumbs up. You groan, putting your head in your hands as you run your fingers through your hair.

You can hear heavy footsteps walk towards you, the squeak of a chair being pulled up next to your desk before that familiar gruff voice speaks. “What was it that you wanted to ask?”

You lift your head to look at Daryl, your heart jumping at the close proximity you two were in. For a moment you contemplate whether to bail on the question or just go for it. You clear your throat, sitting up and crossing your arms, “are you going to the cookout tonight?” Quickly looking away in embarrassment. Nothing even happened yet.

He grunts, shifting in his seat. “Was just gonna go fer a little bit, don’ really feel like stickin’ around.” You nod slowly, muttering a mutual statement.

“Wanna go together?” You look up once more, mentally cringing and hitting yourself. For a moment you could swear his eyes lit up, he nibbled the inside of his bottom lip. A habit of his which you silently found endearing.

“Yeah. Yeah sure.” He grumbles, looking to the side. His hair falling over his face, you had an urge to reach up and brush it away but you held back, not wanting to be too bold. You hum silently, awkwardly shifting away from him in your seat.

“Oh, why’d you come here? Did you need something?” You look over at him, realizing he came here on his own free will. He clears his throat, brushing his bangs out of his face with his hand as he looks at you. Reaching into his pocket and handing you a little fox figurine, he had a slight smile on his face as he handed it to you.

You giggled, inspecting it as you held it in your hands. Unbeknownst to you, he was staring at you. Looking at your features and studying them, if someone walked in it would look as if he were a painter and you were his subject. “I jus’ found it on a run earlier, thought ‘cha might like it.” He murmured sheepishly, playing with his fingers.

You looked towards him, smiling at him with those eyes that made his heart skip a beat every time you even glanced in his direction. “I do like it, thanks Daryl.” You placed the figurine on your desk, next to a picture frame of you and the group. Daryl suddenly stood up, looking down at you softly before turning towards the door.

“I’ll pick ya up later tonight then?” He smiled slightly and you nodded, waving to him as he left. Once the door shut you spun around in your chair, your face heating up as you just processed everything that just happened. But now you were left to dread about the upcoming cookout in a few hours.

“No, not happening.” You crossed your arms at the dress presented to you by Rosita and Maggie. It was a very flattering dress for sure, it was a deep red colour, the length ended just above mid thigh, and the neckline was pretty low. It was something you probably wouldn’t ever wear, even pre-apocalypse. “Sorry Rosita but your style just doesn’t fit me. If anything, I’d like to try one of Maggie's dresses.” You shrug and Maggie stifles a laugh.

“Hun this is my dress.” She smirks at you while you frown, “farmer’s daughter can be pretty outrageous too y’know.” Rosita laughs, tossing the dress at you.

“At least try it on, just humour us.” Rosita mockingly pleads with you. Rolling your eyes you walk towards the bathroom with the dress in hand, hearing a quiet cheer from the both of them as you shut the door.

You stare down at the garment in your hands, trying it on couldn’t hurt… Right? You sigh, taking off your shirt and shorts before slipping the dress on. You audibly gasp at your reflection in the mirror, a hand going over your mouth. The dress hugged your body perfectly, it wasn’t tight but it fit in all the right places. You looked hot.

“Everything alright?” Maggie knocked on the door. You rushed over to the door, opening it.

“Dude…” You mutter in disbelief as you show yourself off to them. Maggie clasped her hands together laughing.

“Girl. If I wasn’t helping you get with Daryl I’d be all over you right now.” Rosita smirks, looking you up and down as you smack her shoulder playfully.

“Well are you gonna wear it or not? I think you should, if you have Rosita thirsting over you then imagine how Daryl is going to react when he picks you up like this.” Maggie giggles, fixing the back of your dress.

You bite your lip in thought, “I don’t know….” Rosita almost slaps you with how fast she turns around to grab you.

“Why not!? You look so fucking hot right now and I swear to god Daryl will think the same.” You laugh slightly at Rosita’s shock, Maggie murmuring agreement with her.

You let out a breath, shaking your head as you turn to the mirror. Fixing your hair a bit and brushing over the dress, a small smiling tugging at your lips as you nod. “Okay fine I’ll wear it, but only because I want to. Not because I want to impress Daryl.” Maggie rolls her eyes playfully as Rosita jumps up clapping.

“Okay well don’t let us bother you, and have fun tonight.” Maggie giggles, taking Rosita to leave, “not too much fun.” She jokes while winking and leaving the room causing you to shoot a glare at her as the door closes behind them.

You go to grab some small heels which surprisingly matches the colour of the dress and quickly look yourself over. Fixing your hair properly this time. Now all that’s left is to wait for Daryl to come pick you up… You take a deep breath, muttering a small affirmation before exiting your room and going downstairs to wait for Daryl.

After what feels like an eternity of waiting, a familiar three beat knock shatters your thoughts. Immediately standing up and walking over to the door, taking yet another deep breath before opening the door.

There he was. Daryl was standing there dressed in his normal attire but neater. His eyes widened at the sight of you, discreetly looking you up and down. A small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before averting his gaze after a moment, causing you to blush and look down at your feet.

“You look… great.” He breathes out, a small smile playing at your lips as you mumble a small thank you. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, not noticing the way his eyes sparkled as he looked down at you. He cleared his throat, moving to the side to let you exit your house, “well let’s get going then.”

You guys started walking towards the middle of Alexandria where the cookout was being held, you felt a bit nervous for tonight as you were worried about fucking everything up. You glanced up at Daryl who had a slight smile playing at his lips, you sighed softly as you looked back down. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

You two walked in silence, the air was tense. Neither of you said anything before you got to the cookout. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw Carol cooking up some rabbit stew by one of the picnic tables. “I’ll be right back.” You muttered to Daryl, giving him a pat on the shoulder before darting towards Carol. Daryl stared after you for a moment, a slight frown on his face when you left him.

Carol shook when you approached her from behind and smacked a hand on her shoulder, placing down a large pot of soup as she looked at you with furrowed brows. “Don’t do that, I could’ve dropped that and I bet a lot of people here would be very mad at you for destroying everyone’s favourite rabbit stew in town….” You rolled your eyes, turning your head to find Daryl before nodding your head over to him. Carol narrowed her eyes confused as she looked at you, “you got a neck problem or something?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you muttered to her. “Daryl’s over there.” Her eyes lit up before immediately smacking you on the head, causing you to yelp and hit her back.

“What are you doing here with me? Go talk to him you idiot.” She grinned, taking a wooden spoon and stirring the pot of soup. Before you could argue she pushed you away, “go, I’m busy anyway.” She giggled as you glared at her, taking a deep breath and turning to walk in Daryl’s direction. He was over by the drink table, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and taking a sip. Your eyes traveled down to his throat in which his adam’s apple bobbed when swallowing the liquid, his bicep flexing when he moved his arm. You immediately shook your head to escape those thoughts and looked around to make sure no one was watching you practically drooling over him.

You took a deep breath before approaching him, a soft smile on your face as you looked up at him. He glanced down at you, his usual tough demeanour faltering and he flashed you a quick smile. “You wan’ a drink?” He offered, gesturing to the table. Your gaze moved towards the table, scanning over it before eyeing the bottle of red wine. He immediately followed, picking up a glass and pouring some for you. He shyly handed you the glass before taking your hand and dragging you along with him. The contact of his hand holding yours was enough to make your knees shake, looking at the back of his head as he led you through the crowd.

He finally let go of your hand once you guys got to a more secluded spot of the area, he took a seat by the tree nearby. You quickly followed suit, making sure to hold your dress down as you went to sit beside him, once you sat you took a sip of your wine to calm your nerves. He slowly shifted closer to you, taking his vest off and placing it over your lap which made you look up at him.

“Don’ wan’ anyone to look up yer skirt.” He mumbled, sitting back against the tree and taking a swig of his whiskey. You blushed, hiding your face by drinking some more of your wine. He noticed and chuckled a bit, tucking your hair behind your ear. He immediately retracted his hand, “sorry.”

You shook your head giggling as he watched you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s fine.”

“You really are pretty tonight.” He mumbled, clearing his throat as he looked you over again. You chuckle, placing your hand on his knee.

“Thanks, you look good too y’know. Clean.” He snorts at your statement, hiding a grin behind his glass. You try to grab his head and turn him to you, the both of you giggling as you quickly discard your glass of wine, the substance seeping into the ground beneath you.

“Stop hiding… You’re so cute when you smile.” You blurt out, causing Daryl to pause for a moment before scoffing and shaking his head. You were glad you drank, the alcohol probably aiding you with even looking at him. “You are.” You insisted, brushing his bangs out of his face.

He pulls back which makes your brows furrow together, worried that you may have made him uncomfortable. “Don’ say things like tha’.” He murmurs, only fueling your confusion.

You tilted your head to try and read his expression, but like always you couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking. He was hiding behind his hair again, you tried to reach up to brush it away. To look into those piercing blue eyes you grew to love but he backed away. “Stop, ya shouldn’. We shouldn’t.” He said gruffly. You frowned, moving closer to him.

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly, a twinge of hope in your tone as you placed a hand on his knee. He shifted away and cleared his throat, running his fingers through his hair.

“We shouldn’ do things or say stuff we don’ mean.” Your heart broke at his sentence. Maybe you were right, he didn’t like you like that. You moved away slightly, a gap in between the both of you as you sat in silence. You played with your fingers, a lump in your throat as you realized you probably made him uncomfortable. You beat yourself up mentally for being too bold with him, thinking about how you should’ve just stayed home tonight.

He glanced at you, nibbling the inside of his bottom lip before grunting, moving closer to you before speaking softly. “What I mean is, I don’t wanna do somethin’ you don’ want an’ scare ya off.” You looked at him, tilting your head as you bite the edge of your thumb.

You took a deep breath as you processed his words, still looking up at him as you narrowed your eyes questioningly. “I like ya, (Y/N).” He mumbled, scratching the back of his head as he again, shifted away from you. You said nothing for awhile which only piqued Daryl’s anxiety, making him wonder if you even heard him.

“I like you too.” You physically cringed hearing the words come out of your mouth, feeling like you were in middle school again. He chuckled, leaning back against the tree and staring up at the purple sky. You looked at him for a moment, the soft summer breeze was blowing his hair gently and causing it to occasionally fly into his eyes, giggling when he grunted about it. You also leaned against the tree, your head turned towards him the entire time as you stared at him with eyes he never thought would be directed towards him. He turned his head to look back at you, a soft smile playing at his lips before he opening his mouth to speak.

“Wanna get outta here?” Once you nodded he smiled, standing up and offering his hand which you gratefully accepted. He took his vest back and wrapped it around your shoulders to keep you warm which didn’t really help due to there being no sleeves, but the feeling of his affection did. You interlocked your fingers together with his as he led you through the crowd for the last time tonight, his heart skipped a beat when you initiated the hand holding and he felt a warm feeling in his chest. One he never knew he’d get to experience.

He eventually brought you over to his house in which he shared with Carol, letting you enter first as he came in behind you. His large hand lingering over the small of your back while you took off his vest, mumbling gratitude as you handed it back to him. He chuckled, placing the vest on the couch as he took a seat, gesturing for you to join him.

“Carol won’t be home ‘til late tonigh’, reckon it’s gotta do with the cookout.” He grumbled, watching you sit down. He took time to watch you, noticing the way more of your thighs were exposed when your dress rode up. He quickly averted his gaze, biting his bottom lip as he rubbed the scruff on his chin. You just nodded, silently leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

He laughed silently, “yer awfully quiet tonight. Why’d the sudden confession change the way you act aroun’ me?” You slapped his chest gently, hearing a quiet “there it is” from him as you lifted your head up.

“It’s just… different. I guess it’s just me seeing you in a different way, officially.” He snorted, glancing over at you. His eyes caught a glimpse of the low cut neckline of your dress, your cleavage practically flaunting in his face. His head shot up towards the ceiling, a gruff chuckle escaping him.

“What kinda way you see me before?” He grunts as he mocks your words slightly, you shake your head and placed your head against his shoulder once more.

“Never wanted to admit my feelings for you, not even to myself. I always just thought you saw me as a friend and nothing more.” You mumbled, absentmindedly tracing shapes into the back of his hand with your finger. He smiled at the gesture before looking up in thought.

“It was the same fer me.” He rubbed over his face with his left hand, “if you didn’ ask me out today I probably never would’ve.” You hummed softly in acknowledgement, silently happy you were literally peer pressured into asking him out.

His hand grasped yours, rubbing circles into your hand with his thumb, sighing softly. “I’d probably still be sneaking glances at you. Who am I kiddin’ I’ll probably still do that.” He chuckled softly as you grinned stupidly. His heart swelled at your smile. Wanting to see more of it he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing it gently while you giggled at his stubble scratching against it. “I love the way you sound.” He added softly, looking at you with eyes you never knew was possible for him to make. This Daryl was way different from the one you met all those years back at the quarry, you weren’t complaining. You just hoped you’d be the only person he looked at this way.

You both sat in silence as you stared at each other, gradually leaning closer. You closed your eyes as his lips pressed against yours. The way his lips felt against yours was perfect, better than any pair of lips that fell upon your own. The kiss went on for awhile, it was soft, innocent. His hand moved to your cheek, tilting your head as he tried to deepen the kiss, his tongue prodding at your lips for entrance. You gratefully granted it and his tongue slipped into your mouth, the faint taste of whiskey and tobacco lingering on his tongue. You hummed into the kiss and felt his breath hitch from the vibration, reluctantly you both pulled back for air, your foreheads pressed together.

“Daryl… can we go to your room?” You broke the silence, feeling his hot breath against your face. He stroked your hair and pulled back with his brows furrowed.

“Ya sure…? I don’ wanna do anything you don’ want to do.” He was serious, looking into your eyes. Once you nodded he hesitantly grabbed your hand and gently guided you towards the basement where he claimed his bedroom. His hand no longer lingered on the small of your back, now fully pressing against it as he held your hand with his free one, guiding you down the stairs and into his bedroom.

He closed the door behind him, turning back to you as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your lips. He let out a shocked noise which you found cute, his arms wrapped around your waist as he kissed you back. The kiss quickly deepened, your tongues moving together in a sensual dance as he backed you up towards his bed, gently placing you down.

He pulled back, sitting next to you. You immediately sat up to try and kiss him again but he stopped you, “(Y/N), you drank earlier. ‘m not gonna do anythin’ if yer drunk, ya know that.”

You shook your head, moving closer. “I had two sips, barely enough to get me drunk. And I know I want this, especially with you. Only you Daryl.” You whispered, noticing the way his breathing became shallow as you moved closer.

“Ya sure? (Y/N), I need you to be absolutely sure. I—I don’ wanna hurt ya.” He nibbled his bottom lip anxiously. You placed a hand on his chest, your eyes clouded with desire, feeling the way his heart beat faster. He watched as you lowered your head towards his neck, kissing and licking the skin there, closing your eyes as he groaned quietly.

“I’m sure.” You whispered against his skin and caused him to shiver before he took you by the shoulders, pushing you onto the bed. No further words were needed as he started kissing your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin. You shook underneath him as small pleas escaped your lips.

He growled quietly, nibbling you and leaving small bites on your neck, searching for one spot. You let out a louder than intended moan, there it is. There was one thing about Daryl, he was good at finding things. He continued to kiss and suck on the soft spot of your neck, quiet noises left your mouth almost pathetically as you fell apart underneath him. He pulled back to look at you, his breath hitching as he saw the state you were in. Your face was flushed, eyes closed, and your lips were parted. Red and swollen from your previous making out. You whined softly, raising your hands to try and feel him again. He swallowed hard. He barely even touched you and yet you were so… so needy.

“Jesus (Y/N)…” He muttered under his breath, lightly tracing over your knees before pushing them apart. Rubbing his chin as he stared down at you, grabbing you by your shoulders, “sit up girl.” He helped you sit up, kissing your lips softly before looking into your eyes once more. His hand moved to your back, playing with the zipper of your dress. He looked up at you for permission, you gave a nod and he smiled softly, kissing your temple before slowly unzipping your dress. He slowly slipped your dress down, kissing your shoulder gently as his left hand rubbed your knee comfortingly.

Soon he pulled your dress off, leaving you in your undergarments. His eyes traced over your body, thinking he’d never live to see this moment. You shivered as the cold air hit your body and he immediately encircled you, his arms moved around your body as he went to press his lips against yours once more.

Your eyes fluttered shut and giggled into the kiss when his stubble tickled you, his hand running through your hair gently. The feeling of his nails scratching your scalp made you shiver excitedly. Gently, his hands moved down your body but they moved with hesitation. It was like he was treating you as if you were fragile and would crumble if he moved too quickly.

“Don’t hold back Daryl…” You whispered, stroking his cheek with your thumb. He nodded, looking back down as his hands moved with more force. He lightly traced over the straps of your bra, playing with the little bits of lace as he moved down to kiss your collarbone. His tongue darting out to lick over to the bra strap, kissing your shoulder before slipping the strap off your shoulder. All while glancing up at you to make sure there were no signs of discomfort, you looked back down at him and smiled softly causing his heart to skip a beat. He pressed another loving kiss to your lips before slipping the other strap off your shoulder, his hands moving behind you to unclasp your bra with ease. He tossed your bra onto the floor, backing up to look at you. After he said nothing you felt a rush of embarrassment, shyly covering your breasts from him.

“No, no, no…” He whispered, taking your hands and moving them to your side, “don’ hide ‘em. Yer beautiful.” He quickly kissed your cheek, then your chin, your neck, and then finally the valley of your breasts. You let out a soft whimper as his lips moved over to your left breast, kissing the flesh gently before parting his lips and placing it over your nipple. A shocked but pleased moan exited your mouth while his left hand moved to massage your other breast, his tongue swirling around. Your eyes fluttered shut when his mouth moved to give your other breast attention, your lips parted and let out soft gasps of pleasure. Your hand moved to the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair and gripping it gently, causing him to grunt against you.

He moved back giving your chest one last kiss before unbuttoning his shirt, you reached up to help him. Hands shaking with anticipation as each button was undone, pushing the shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor. He kissed you intensely, pushing you down onto the bed and pressing a knee in between your legs. Your hands moved to touch his chest, tracing over the scarred skin. He flinched back, suddenly self conscious about the scars all over his back and chest. You knew about his trauma, you were one of the only people he opened up to, but this was your first time seeing it. Noticing his anxiety, you leaned up on your elbows, tracing the scars gently. Pressing your lips against them, feeling his tense body relax under your touch, he let out a deep sigh as you showed affection towards him like this. Closing his eyes as his love for you only grew deeper, never in his life would he have thought someone would creep this deep into his heart.

He pushed you back, his lips finding yours as his hand lingered down over the waistband of your panties. You groaned into his mouth as his fingers slipped under and over to your wet pussy, his breath faltered at how wet you were. How eager you were for him.

“Daryl.” You breathed out when he parted from your mouth, his fingers gently rubbing your clit.

“Mm?” He hummed next to your ear, his middle finger dipping through your slick as he continued to rub your sensitive nub. A choked moan escaped you as he did this, his other hand running his fingers through your hair as he shushed you. “Easy…” You bit your lip as the hand in your hair left to pull your panties down, tossing it onto the floor to join the other clothes.

His fingers left you momentarily as he moved down the bed slowly to look at your glistening pussy. He placed a hand on your thigh, spreading your open further while you looked down at him. Your brows were furrowed in pleasure, lips parted as your breathing came out shallow and ragged. He pushed his index finger past your folds, groaning at how wet you were as he teased your entrance. Your whining was enough to make him twitch in his pants, suddenly realizing how tight his pants felt. He let his index push into your entrance, feeling your tight walls convulse around the digit and hearing a moan escape you. He smirked from his place as he looked up at you, “alrigh’ up there?” Your eyes were shut tight while your brows were pressed together, you let out a shaky breath and nodded. He took your confirmation as a sign to start pumping his finger in and out of you, your legs shaking.

You were kind of embarrassed by how this man had you shaking just by one finger, but it’s been awhile since you’ve last done this with anyone. Plus it was Daryl fucking Dixon… You let out yet another pathetic moan, your hand coming up to cover your noises out of embarrassment. He stopped moving his finger and you whine, looking down at him. He had a frown on his face.

“Don’ cover yer mouth, lemme hear those pretty noises from you darlin’.” He drawled lowly, you whimpered as you slowly lowered your hand and he continued moving his finger. He eventually slipped a second into you, stretching you out. You threw your head back against the bed as you cried out in pleasure. After a moment he removed his fingers, only to replace it with something warm. You gasped out once you realized it was his tongue pressing against your clit.

“D—Daryl…” You stuttered, your fingers finding themselves in his hair. He lapped at your pussy, eating you out as if you were the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten in his entire life. Loud moans echoed through his room as you tugged on his hair, lifting your hips to grind against his face. He grunted against you, holding your hips with his large hands as he held you down, slurping up your arousal.

Moans kept spilling out of you as he kept sucking at your clit, feeling a familiar feeling building up in your stomach. You whimpered, pushing his head further down against you. “Fuck Daryl… I’m gonna…” You groaned when he slipped a finger into you again, his tongue still lapping at your clit, “I’m gonna cum.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, the vibrations almost sending you over the edge as another finger pumped into you. The amount of attention he was giving your pussy was overwhelming as his fingers curled inside of you, fingertips just barely brushing over your sweet spot. You mewled, pulling his hair hard as he curled his fingers again, sucking on your clit in the process. He could tell you were close and he pumped and curled his fingers faster, finally hitting that sweet spot inside of you. A loud moan spilling out of your mouth as your head pushed back further into the bed.

“Tha’s it… come fer me..” He mumbled against your clit, sending you over the edge and reaching that climax. Your fluids rushing onto his fingers, which he pulled out. His tongue darting towards your juices and licking it all up. You let out a small whimper as lewd noises of him slurping all your juices up rang through your ears. He licked you clean, lifting his head up and wiping his chin with his forearm, covered in your release. The corner of his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you breathe heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you come down from your high. He licked his fingers clean, rolling his eyes back with a low groan. “So sweet…” He whispered, eliciting a whine from you.

He quickly started unbuckling his belt, needing to free his almost painful erection. You whimpered again, his hands twitching at the noise. “Daryl…” You whispered so desperately you normally would’ve been embarrassed, but the ache between your thighs and the desire for him was too strong for you to even care.

“Shh.. I got ya..” He whispered, moving closer to you as one hand gently caressed your cheek, the other continuing to unbutton his pants. He placed a sweet kiss to your temple while the hand on your cheek moved to push your hair out of your face. “So beautiful.”

He planted another kiss to your head before moving back to shove his pants down, you eyed the bulge in his boxers. You moved to sit up and grabbed his hips, pulling him closer. He chuckled lowly, caressing your head as he looked down at you. His lustful eyes peered down at you as you looked up at him with your own desperate ones. Before you could pull him out of his underwear he stopped you, pulling back.

“Hold on.” He whispered softly, moving to his bedside table and rummaging through it. Your gaze followed him, crawling over on the bed towards him, “shit.” He muttered, a frown on his face. You furrowed your brows in confusion, sitting on your knees as he went to cup your face. He kissed your lips sweetly, apologetically. “Sorry (Y/N)… I think we have to do this another time, I don’ got any condoms.”

You took his hands from your face, kissing his knuckles. Feeling his calloused fingertips run against your palms. “It’s okay… I don’t mind.” You said gently and looked down at his fingers laced with yours. His eyes widened and he frowned once again, rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs.

“Ya sure? I don’… I don’ think tha’s a good idea (Y/N),” he murmured softly. You sighed, lowering your hand to palm him through his briefs, earning a grunt from him as his hand gripped your wrist. You looked into his eyes, begging him to just continue without it. His grip on your wrist loosened and you continued to move your hand against him, a low groan escaping him. “(Y/N).”

“Please Daryl… I don’t care. Just pull out.” You pleaded with him, you just needed him inside of you. Feeling more aroused the more he kept you waiting. His bangs were over his eyes again, ”I’ll have to trim those soon.” You thought to yourself, he kept silent as if contemplating the idea. He nodded slowly, taking your chin and lifting your face to his before smashing his lips onto yours in a heated kiss.

His tongue met yours messily as he pushed you down onto the bed, his hands finding your breasts again. Kissing him was addicting, it felt right. You let out a small moan into his mouth, his grip on your breast tightening as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. A low growl escaped him as he pulled back, slipping off his boxers. Your eyes travelled down to see his cock, your breath catching from how hard it was. Not to mention how huge he was. He groaned, taking hold of himself and stroking himself slowly to relieve some of that tension, precum starting to dribble out of his tip. You pulled him down by his neck, connecting your lips once more while you replaced his hand with your own. Jerking him off slowly as he groaned deeply into your mouth.

“Hol’ on baby.” He whispered sweetly, taking your hand away from him. He moved back, keeping his hands on your knees as you looked up at him. Your expression one of pure lust and desire, the dim light of his lamp highlighting your curves, your body scarred from past battles and years of being in the apocalypse. Your hair was perfectly splayed around the pillow framing your head and your lips were parted, swollen. The hands on your knees slowly pushed them apart, spreading you open for him. He groaned at the sight unravelling in front of him, his cock twitching as his gaze wandered down to your dripping cunt. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

His finger dipped down to touch your pussy as he jerked himself off slowly, a mewl spilling out of your mouth at the sensation. His touch was so light and delicate it almost hurt. “Daryl please.” You pleaded, not wanting to continue this any longer. You needed him inside of you. He got the memo, nodding while grabbing your hips with one hand as the other grabbed his dick and positioned it at your entrance.

“Fuck yer so wet.” He drawled, his tip running through your folds as you whined impatiently. He chuckled quietly, lowering his head to kiss your jaw, sucking gently. “So impatient.” He growled, kissing down your neck and over to your breasts. His tip pushing into you slowly.

You let out a cry as he slowly pushed into you, his thick dick stretching you, your walls convulsing around him as you struggled to adjust. He cursed into your neck, kissing the sweet spot on your neck while a hand moved into your hair to try and distract you from the pain. You whimpered, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on anything but the pain as he continued to push in slowly. He caressed your hair and kissed up your neck and over to your jaw, shushing you. Murmuring sweet nothings into your ear as he bottomed out, halting once he fully entered. You weren’t necessarily a virgin but the last time you’ve ever had sex was before the apocalypse, and he wasn’t as big as Daryl.

“Move.” You whimpered breathlessly, he looked up at you for confirmation and when you nodded he slowly pulled out. Only to push back in, eliciting a whine from you. He hesitantly continued and soon the pain turned into pleasure, a deep moan erupting from you as he kept his face buried in your neck. His hot breath turning you on further as he started to bite at your neck, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.

He let out a low groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he moved down to your breasts once more. His tongue darting out and licking your nipple while his hand moved to pinch the other. Everything quickly became overwhelming as your back arched off the bed and into him, a loud moan escaping you once more. You didn’t care about being too loud, you were too in bliss to even think about someone hearing you. Your hands moved into his hair, tugging it and causing him to grunt in your ear. His pace quickened and the squelch of his dick pumping into your wet cunt echoed through the room.

His lips returned back to yours, your tongues meeting in an intimate dance as his hips snapped relentlessly into you. You could do nothing but moan into his mouth and tug his hair, his own hands gripping at your hips, probably going to leave bruises in the morning from how tight he was holding onto you. The kiss was sloppy and messy, your teeth clashing together while moans and whines poured out of your mouth and into his. He swallowed up your noises, pressing his mouth right up against yours to muffle your sounds. All while pounding into you at a rough pace.

One of your hands trailed down his neck and onto his back, digging your nails into his skin and releasing your mouth from his. He buried his face into your neck, groaning more as you scratched his back and pulled his hair. His hips stuttering slightly. You held him close, wrapping your legs around his waist while he tried to speed up again. The headboard was hitting the wall now and the bed was creaking with every thrust he gave. Your moans blended perfectly together with his heavy groans, the sound of his balls hitting your ass echoing through his room.

You started to shake, that same feeling building up in your stomach as your walls throbbed around him, eliciting a choked moan from him as he slipped an arm under you. Soft gasps came out of your mouth, your throat hoarse from all your screaming and moaning, but they kept on coming. He held you close to him, acknowledging the fact you’re close.

“Almost there baby, hold on fer me.” He grunted into your ear, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and irregular as he also chased towards his climax. You quietly whined into his ear, your pussy clenching around his dick. His eyes rolled back into his head as your walls trapped him inside of you, thrusting deeper into you and hitting that sweet spot.

You threw your head back, arching off the bed as you let out a loud moan of his name. Releasing all over his cock and onto his bedsheets.

“So tight…” He moaned softly, pulling out and cumming on your stomach. He collapsed on top of you, not fully pressing his body weight on you. The two of you breathing heavily as you try to catch your breaths. After a moment he lifted off of you, kissing your jaw. You kept your eyes closed, lips parted in a soft breathing while he whispered into your ear. “Be righ’ back.”

You can hear him walk into the bathroom, a bit of shuffling around before he comes back into the room. You were right where he left you, eyes closed and covered in cum. You could hear him chuckle quietly before a cold feeling hits your skin, your eyes snap open in shock and he shushes you. You look down and notice he’s wiping you clean with a wet towel. Relaxing, you lay your head back down on the pillow, enjoying the cold feeling on your hot skin as he wipes you completely clean. He leaves for a second time to throw the towel into a laundry bin, walking back up to you and smiling softly as he watches you wrap yourself up in his blanket.

“Got some room fer me?” He drawled, chuckling softly. You open your eyes a bit, lifting your arm to welcome him. He quickly got into bed with you, shutting off his lamp as he pulled the covers over the both of you, kissing your forehead. “Okay?” He asked quietly, stroking your hair out of your face.

“Better than okay.” Your voice cracked, hoarse from all the moaning. He just breathed out softly in response, holding you into his chest.

“Y’know I wanted our first time to be special…. but ‘m not entirely upset with how this went.” He snorted, squeezing you gently. You laughed gently, lifting your head to peck his lips.

“It was special.” You argued lightly, kissing his cheek before relaxing in his arms. He looked down at you, there wasn’t much light in the room but he could still make out your features. He smiled to himself, glad that tonight happened the way it did. Nothing else was said as you both slowly succumbed to sleep.

You woke up when you felt no one beside you, panicked you sat up and looked around for Daryl. Your shoulders relaxing when you heard the sink in the bathroom, quickly getting up and slipping on your underwear along with your bra. You didn’t have any place to be so you decided to just stay here for the morning, grinning as you found one of his shirts. Bringing it up to your nose and smelling it, tobacco and his natural musk filling your senses. You put it on, blushing at the fact that you could now wear his clothes.

“Oh my god.” You turned around at the sound of Daryl’s voice, he stood there at the doorframe of the bathroom. Looking you up and down before walking up to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “you look so gorgeous (Y/N)…” He kissed the top of your head, rocking you side to side slowly as you giggled.

“You going out?” You beamed up at him, knowing he usually wakes up early to hunt. He nodded, kissing your head again before ruffling your hair and letting you go.

“Yeah, ya should probably go get somethin’ to eat. Wouldn’ want yer pretty self to be hungry.” You giggled, nodding before turning to go upstairs. He smirked as he watched you leave, his eyes trailing over the marks on your neck. He shook his head grinning to himself as he got his gear ready.

You walked into the kitchen, looking through the fridge and grabbing some leftover food from the cookout. Jumping when you closed the door and saw Carol, “jesus fucking christ.”

“So you did fuck him on the first date.” Carol smirked at you, following you over to the table. You rolled your eyes, hiding a grin. “So are you together now? Finally? After months and months of painful interactions that I had to witness and hear about with my own two ears and eyes???”

You scoffed, opening your mouth to answer before Daryl stepped into the room.

“Mornin’.” He gruffed, waving to Carol and kissing your head before heading towards the front door. “See ya later, (Y/N)…” He looked you over once again before leaving, crossbow in hand.

You turn your head back to Carol, a light blush on your face along with a grin. “Got my answer.” She grinned.

You giggled softly, picking at your food. “It’s…. a work in progress…”

likes, reblogs, + comments vv appreciated !

#divider by cafekitsune #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead daryl #daryl smut #twd smut #the walking dead smut #daryl fluff #mrdixonposts

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shadewolf95 · 2 months ago

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Short Adam x Reader scene i have been think about for some time. Please be kind, it's my first time posting something like this to Tumblr. Please let me know how you like it! Also I'm horrible at tags.

Adam, do you want some gum?

It was a normal nice day, like it always is in heaven. You were walking towards your favorite coffee shop when you heard a commotion behind you. Turning, you realize it was Lute angrily shouting at a winner. As you walked closer to them you realized the winner was also shouting at Lute.

Winner: “It’s not my fault you can't watch where you're going!”

Lute: “You owe me a new coffee!”

Winner: “I don’t owe you anything, get lost!”

You notice the coffee cup on the ground and decide to interfine.

Y/n: “Hey now. What seems to be the issue here?”

They both turn to look at you. Before Lute could even say anything the winner took his chance to give you his sob story.

Winner: “Oh! Thank goodness you're here, y/n! Lute here is being so mean to me, I accidentally bumped into her and she just started screaming at me. I don’t know what I was going to do if you hadn’t showed up! Please help me?!”

Lute: “That’s not what happened at all! You weren't watching where you were going and ran into me! You didn’t even apologize, just told me to watch it and shove off!”

Winner: “She’s lying! I would never do that, you believe me right?”

Was he really going to try to wiggle his way out of this. Only one way to find out.

Y/n: “Oh dear me, what a mess indeed. Well I do believe you should apologize even if it was an accident.”

Winner: “You are absolutely correct, I apologize Lute. So we are good now right?”

Lute looked like she was about to say something but you cut her off.

Y/n: “Good job. You obviously bear no ill will to Lute.”

Winner: “Nope. Not at all.”

Y/n: “Good. Then you wouldn't mind paying for her to get another coffee, correct?”

Winner: “Not at all….wait what?”

Y/n: “Is there a problem? If no ill intentions are here then you will have no problem fixing an issue you caused.”

Winner: “But..but…”

You gave him the look a mother does when scolding a child. Meanwhile Lute’s smile could be seen for miles. The winner finally sighed in defeat.

Winner: “Here you go Lute, this should cover your new coffee.”

Lute accepted the cash with a shit eating grin.

Lute: “Thanks.”

With that the winner finally left. Lute looked down at her phone and sighed.

Y/n: “Something else?”

Lute: “I don’t even have time to get another, I’m already late to practice. Adam is going to be so mad. Ugh!”

Y/n: “I can help with that too, come on let's get you that coffee.”

Lute laughs at you as you both walk into the coffee shop.

Lute: “Unless you plan to finally sleep with him I don't know how you plan to do that.”

Y/n: “Trust me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You both hid around a corner left to the entrance of the practice field. You had already told Lute the plan and while she seemed apprehensive she agreed to try it. Adam was waiting near the front of the gate. Looking down at his phone, he seemed irritated to say the least. With one final look at Lute you both nodded and you started walking to Adam alone, popping a piece of gum into your mouth in the process.

Y/n: “Well well well, who do we have here?”

Adam looked up at you, you quietly noted the hint of interest tracing his mask outlines.

Adam: “Ugh, it's you. What do you want, y/n? I’m busy.”

Y/n: “Oh come now is that anyway to treat me? I thought we were past that?”

You stopped to his right forcing him to turn away from where Lute was still hiding to look at you.

Adam: “Pfff as if you don’t enjoy this. It’s the only way I get you to even talk to me. Face it, you love it!”

You rolled your eyes and Adam laughed.

Adam: “I’m not hearing a no.”

Y/n: “We’ve been over this a million times, even after I tell you no. You stop for a day or so then keep coming right back to me. What are ya, obsessed with me? Not used to having a woman tell you no?”

Adam: “NO! It’s…it's not like that at all! Leave me alone! Like I said, I'm busy!”

You smiled, you could sense him becoming flustered. He’d always been like that with you after the first time you turned him down for trying to ask you out. If he wasn't such a manwhore you might have agreed. Unfortunately for him you had been well warned ahead of time by others about him and his antics. But it still felt nice to mess with him like this.

Y/n: “I guess you're right, besides I have other places to be with far more important people to interact with. But before I go, do you want some gum?”

Adam gruffed at you before giving you a questioning look.

Adam: “Gum? Seriously? That’s the best you could come up with to stand around here a little bit longer? You know what, yeah give me some gum.”

Adam smirked at you but you only grinned back. Without warning you reached up and grabbed the front of his robe by his throat pulling him down to your mouth. It all happened so quick he couldn't process it until his and your mouth were smashed together in a forceful sloppy kiss. Your wings spread wide to enclose the two of you together hiding you both from the view of onlookers but most importantly giving Lute the much needed coverage to slip past Adam undetected. After a few minutes you pulled away wiping spit from your mouth and chin. Adam just stood there mouth a gap staring at you. It was actually quite funny to look at, he had not moved an inch other than what you made him do. No hand movements nothing other than his wings fluffing up a bit and what was that? You swear you could see a hint of blushing from under the mask. You grinned again and raised your hand to close his mouth.

Y/n: “Goodbye Adam, see you around.”

With that you flew away, leaving Adam to wonder what in the world just happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adam watched you go, feeling hot all over. He looked down at his phone again and it was 30 minutes past when training was supposed to start. He silently cursed at nothing. Turning he was still not sure what had just happened with y/n but he could wait any longer for Lute to show up from what he only assumed was her playing hooky. He'll have to teach her a lesson later. All thoughts stopped though when he saw Lute doing warmups with her sisters.

Adam: “Lute when did you get here?”

Lute: “I’ve been here this whole time Sir. We’ve been waiting on you, Sir.”

Adam watched as the others nodded with her. Was he going crazy? This had to be a dream right? Yeah. That's definitely what was happening, just a very real feeling dream. There was no way any of this was real.

Adam: “Alright ladies go run some laps!”

Adam watched as they started to run, still unable to shake the feeling that this isn't some sort of awesome dream. Maybe the gum in his mouth was the cause of this feeling.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam firstman #adam x reader

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kirbybecomesastarwarrior · 6 months ago

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Prince Fluff -The Grail Prince

Background Info: Empathic touch/ Papa Fisher /Fluff's Mom

Making Fluff the son of the Grail King was the best decision I ever made it adds depth and zest to his character.

Before the events of Kirby's Epic Yarn, Yin-Yarn tried to take over the kingdom. Knowing the queen had vanished and the king had died... But nope Grail says NO! (Due to the protection of the Grail "may not unworthy kings sit on the throne".) That's why he couldn't take over Patchland and just settled to take over Dreamland.

Of course, his rage quits and all he can do is mess with the Magic Yarn... But not before revealing the truth of Fluff's birth.

(the deal he made with Fisher in exchange for him & his wife to have a son...).

Fluff blames himself for the death of his father, (he was always told that he (Fisher) died due to an illness)... he was the cause? This leads him to ruminate on his mother's disappearance.

All Fluff could gather (what he thinks happened) is that she left because she was so heartbroken after Fisher's death that she mentally shut down. She was still able to run the kingdom... but you could tell she was just barely holding on ... then 2 years after she vanished without a trace, magically wiping anything left of hers.

Fluff's mom leaves for a different reason (a perfectly good reason). But with all this pressure he's been under (that he is now the sole ruler) this terrible reveal makes him think:

"Did she leave because... I took Dad away from her?"

Leaving him absolutely scattered: it was in this distraught state that Yin-Yarn was able to snatch the magic sock. And then wind up in Dreamland... (However, splitting up Patchland wasn't the only thing that happened after cutting the magic yarn.)

It also interfered with Fluff receiving his father's letters. So it's only after this talk with Kirby that the very first one of King Fisher's letters to Fluff reveals his past before he hides Patchland away. Which is why it's a great source of comfort to not only Fluff but to Kirby.

(The citizens of Pathland all knew of the Fisher's past mistake but due to the love & respect they had for their king... They left it up to him to tell his son the truth. ) The people of Patchland truly did love their King and prince.

This is (another reason) why Fluff got extremely emotional when confronting Flaspar with his dad. His father's past mistakes made him feel less alone. And thanks to Kirby's power, not only can he read his father's letters and listen & see his father read them...

Keep reading for extra info & what's to come~

This also comes fresh off the heels of Marx Arc & the Fall out of Fumu/Tiff & Bun/Tuff. So Kirby getting transported to Patchland and meeting another kid who's just like him was exactly what he needed.

Each character Kirby befriends deals with an aspect Kirby must tackle within himself. (The events of the anime really messed him up... defeating Nightmare didn't fix his problems...) Prince Fluff's arc deals with Kirby's self-doubt...

Seeing someone who he comes to admire share the same doubts & isolating feelings as his title... it was like he was looking in a mirror. They already had an instant connection when they met, but this was a defining moment for Kirby: "Maybe I'm not the only one..."

I imagined this scenario long ago (not exactly like this, before I made Fluff the Grail Prince.) Now this is what solidified it for me~ Their relationship is built on "Nobody quite gets me like you." They're a sense of comfort for each other & understanding.

Other characters understand Kirby (yes) but no one quite as well as Fluff... these two are both kids who have these great responsibilities pushed on to them due to circumstances. They are each other's rocks & confidants throughout KBASW.

And as you can see I reconned a lot of things about Fluff's character. Especially his mom, so Fluff's coronation situation doesn't happen... I'm gonna have to rewrite that.

AND THIS IS THE REASON WHY I SHIP KIRFLUFF!

I hope I was able to portray the feelings I wanted to convey (especially that imposter syndrome). It wasn't intentional though it's one of those things you plan out but: when you feel the vibe of the story and the chemistry of the characters... by the end of the writing process/planning you realize "Oh my gosh, I've built a ship!"

(I know guys I haven't touched the fic at all due to the Kirby OC Tournament but don't worry I refuse to leave you guys lore-starved, so I'll be doing little snippets of the characters. )

Everyone's as an... Arthurian/ folklore twist: and special prev. to the next person I'm gonna be explaining which is our dear Marx who is:

THE PIED PIPER

Similar to his counterpart the people of Hamelin royally screwed him over and became the trickster that arrives in Dreamland...

Coming up soon, hope you guys stick around for that!

#kbasw #kirby #prince fluff #kirfluff #kirbys epic yarn #kirby anime #krbay #fisher king #king fisher #prince fluff's father #prince fluff's mom #marx kirby #marx #the pied piper #hoshi no kirby

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jeffsfavoriteknife · 2 years ago

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Jeff x Jealous! Male reader

Includes: Jealousy(obviously), gay shit, public sex, use of the word malewife

You glared at him from the corner of your eye as he sat with what he called his friend, jealousy eating you alive. Everytime you saw them together it ate at you, you knew he had told you that they were just good friends but you felt he was lying to you, Jeff was known for lying and it just seemed so cut and dry that he was into the guy. You stood up from the coffee table you sat at suddenly, slightly startling the guy next to Jeff as you walked off, not wanting to see him for a while, he was fucking with you, taunting you, and yet you did nothing except walk away.

You felt a hand on your shoulder tightly grip you and turn you around to none other than Jeff. “Mind tellin me what the fuck your problem is?” You glared at him before pulling away ‘you know what my fuckin problem is’ he angrily huffs, clearly fed up with your shit as he shoves you against the wall “i already told you im not fuckin with that guy, even if i was whats it any of your damn business?” This caused you to hesitate on answering, leading him to catch on “no fucking shit..” he griped your jaw and forced you to look up at him, his cold yet dangerous eyes staring back

“you could have just said somethin, i will admit your pretty fucking cute and look quite breedable” you clutched the bottom of your shirt tight ‘the fuck is that supposed to mean??? I cant be bred you fuckin idiot’ he gets closer to you, clearly towering over you as he smirks “nah i definitely could, youd make a cute malewife, i know damn well you got skirts and knee high socks in your place, ive seen you wear them once or twice” face bright red with embarrassment you rolled your eyes ‘of fucking course youd be the one to watch people through their houses’ he pulled you to him, letting out a dark chuckle “i can tell that your not pissed about it tho” he eyed your pants as you yanked your shirt down more to cover yourself “let me help” he didnt give you time to respond before yanking your pants down along with your boxers ‘JEFF! we are in public! Someone is gonna say something, are you insane???’ “Absolutely” he didnt hesitate to turn you around and position you so you were basically offering yourself to him ‘wait wait wait! I havent,,done this before’ his eyes glinted at this as he gripped onto your thighs, yanking his own pants down “you have no idea how fucking cute that is to me, ill be the first AND last one to ruin you” he pressed himself into you, your tightness causing him a bit of trouble but nothing a good old slam wont fix.

This made you cry out in both pain in pleasure, one one side the burn was excruciating, on the other hand he was rubbing right against your prostate causing your cock to throb. He picked you up by your thighs and pounded into you mercilessly, wanting to hear every ounce of noise your mouth could make for him, he wanted to RUIN you. You cried out, mumbling his name along with incoherent sentences but he loved every moment of it, you crying out his name making him go even harder. Your back rubbing against the wall was no doubt going to leave marks but you were hooked on his cock and couldnt bother to ask him to stop, you were basically drooling while the man you swooned over for so long wrecked you. You tightened your grip on him as you came, the entire time you did he was watching your cock twitch with every spurt, yeah, he wasnt gonna let you go. He dug his nails into your thighs, leaving marks in its wake as he bit into your shoulder, drawing blood and pumping you full of him, overfilling you to where some was spilling out, you rolled your eyes in the back of your head in pure bliss

(Yeah its short but its 3 am and since im a slut for jeff im allowed to write short lil stories that is just sex w hardly any plot teehee)

-🖤🔪

#creepypasta x male reader #jeffxmalereader #jeff the killer x male reader #nsfwficyouhavebeenwarned #nsfwfic #nominorsthanks #gayshitforya

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your-local-grubdog · 1 year ago

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Wait actually can we talk about Leaflings real fast. Because. What the actual fuck.

Also sorry if I curse a lot more here than usual but like 90% of my genuine reactions to this topic is "what the FUCK" so uhh get used to it I guess.

Huge thanks to @saihahas for helping me with some image transcripts as well.

Major story spoilers below you have been warned. Ok let's go.

So you're able to just rise from the dead in pikmin 4. No, seriously. You can do that.

At the end of Olimar's side story we get this scene and associated line:

[Image transcript: White text on a black screen that says "But at that very moment, my life support system failed" END TRANSCRIPT]

Like. He died. His life support system failed. He DIED. And moments later, he was revived as a leafling. He died and came back from the dead. Like, what the fuck????

It even fixed up his injuries he got prior to becoming a leafling. Just a full on revival.

Image transcript (one leads into the other naturally)

Collin: By the by, Olimar, is there anything you remember from right before or after you became a leafling? Any additional details?

Olimar: Not particularly. It didn't feel bad or anything like that. In fact, it was quite revitalizing.

Olimar: My chronically stiff shoulders and all the injuries I'd sustained during my explorations healed immediately.

Yonny: Hmm... Perhaps leafification has highly restorative effects...

Yonny: This is definitely something worth looking into, eheheh. END OF TRANSCRIPT.

Now we don't know if everyone who was a leafling had to die before hand, though there is a common thread that they were at least unconscious... And had just escaped deadly situations... I think Olimar found them moments before they died and, not knowing any other way to save them, leafed them as well. Something they bear no ill will towards him for - in fact, they're thankful for him.

Image transcript:

Jin: When I was leafified, I could not stop thinking about the art of Dandori. It was like an endless meditation.

Jin: A leafling appeared in front of me after the ship crashed and I had used up all of my flagging energy.

Jin: My intuition told me they were not a bad person. I also felt as though they were determined to achieve something

Jin: I am afraid I do not recall much of what happened after that, as I lost consciousness. END TRANSCRIPT.

Image transcript:

Corgwin: I was attacked by a creature, and right before I lost consciousness, I saw something overhead. It was a leafling

Corgwin: They had such sad eyes, but there was more going on in there. Their eyes were full of determination.

Corgwin: I have to believe there is a reason why they do what they do. Turning castaways into leaflings, I mean.

Corgwin: Your time is limited, so think it through! END TRANSCRIPT.

Image transcript:

Bernard: You need anything else?

Bernard: Even when Olimar was leafed out, he was still trying to RESCUE folks!

Bernard: And there I was with my head focused on nothing but Dandori stuff. HOO, he's one tough cookie!

Bernard: You need anything else? END TRANSCRIPT.

Ok Bernard's conversation doesn't add to the "he found them in deadly situations" point but it DOES show that all of his "victims" think highly of him for the fact that he had saved them and others. (Also, side note, Olimar had sad eyes... Poor bastard thought he was never going home to his wife and kids, was visibly depressed over this, and STILL was trying to save people. Olimar is like, genuinely such a good fucking person God damn.)

Now being a leafling is undead and comes with its own slew of problems. Namely, the fact Dandori takes over your brain (probably the pikmin survival instinct) and the fact you can no longer leave PNF-404. It's not even an air thing, it's not being on the planet that causes sickness, so not even spacesuits can fix it.

But then you're able to cure yourself of being a leafling. And just. Go back? To your normal life?????? Like nothing ever happened. You died and came back. What the fuck.

And to make that point worse. One of the key ingredients is Glow Sap. Which is produced by the Luminknolls. The only other thing the Luminknolls make is uh. Glow pikmin. Which.

“Although they've been named Glow Pikmin, it's not entirely clear whether or not this species is actually a type of Pikmin. These creatures possess the same fundamental behaviors of Pikmin, like carrying things, propagating, and fighting. They also share special characteristics, such as the leaf atop their head. Yet they do not spawn from an Onion but a Lumiknoll, and they are only active at night or underground. During the day, they revert into seeds and enter a resting state. What's even more surprising is that they exhibit no signs of life. When a Glow Pikmin "dies," if that word can even be used, it does not expire in the typical sense. Instead, it just becomes a form of light-or perhaps a photon-and returns to the Lumiknoll. Putting aside my "scientist" hat for a moment...it seems to me that this creature or entity may not be a living organism at all but some manner of spiritual substance.”

[Image Transcript: a screenshot of the Piklopedia showing the very end of the above quote. END TRANSCRIPT]

And just as some icing on the cake:

[Image transcript: Louie's piklopedia notes on the glow pikmin. All it says is "Doesn't smell alive." END TRANSCRIPT]

Cool they're fucking ghosts. Sorry I can't be convinced otherwise, they're clearly some sort of supernatural entity at MINIMUM. I just think spirit is most likely. They don't have to be the spirits of dead pikmin... Although... You can convert a Glow Pikmin into normal pikmin via a candy pop bud. I've done it before, I have no video of it but you can go and try it yourself if you'd like. And if they are spirits of pikmin then that means that we can also bring pikmin back from the dead. What the FUCK.

Anyways. I got side tracked sorry. My point was the Luminkolls make two things: Glow Sap and Glow Pikmin, which have similar names and similar appearances and. Are we using ghost juice to cure leaflings???? Which is used to reverse all negatives of being leafed. Which can be used to bring the dead back to life.

I don't know how to end this. I really really don't know how to end this. I just need someone else to scream about this with because it's so. It's so fucking WEIRD like what the hell. It's not enough that they may be humans, noooo, there's also undead creatures (excluding the mushroom guys those freaks have an explanation at the very least). This game is weird as hell but tbh I love it.

#pikmin #pikmin 4 #borb screams

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jacksprostate · 6 months ago

Text

Treatise on why No, the doctor just giving the narrator of Fight Club (full name) his requested sleep medication or sending him to therapy would not have Fixed Him

Firstly, saying giving him the insomnia meds would’ve fixed him ignores the reason he has insomnia in the first place. He is so deeply upset by his place in society that he literally cannot sleep. Drugging him to sleep would not change that. That, of course, is the easy, quick response.

But with regard to therapy? The biggest flaw is that it ignores a central tenet of the book. Part of what tortures the narrator and drives him to invent Tyler is that his feelings about this collective, systemic issue are constantly reduced to a Just Him thing. His seatmates ask what his company is. He’s the only one upset at the office. He gets weird looks if he says the truth of what he does. People will do anything in their power to pretend he is the issue, as an individual, because it is far scarier to consider the full implications of the systemic issues implied by what he is saying. Everyone treats it as if the issue is him, so he goes insane. He does anything to get someone to say, holy shit, that’s fucked up, what you’re a part of is wrong. In an attempt to feel any sort of vague sympathy and catharsis, he goes to support groups to pretend to be dying, because then at least people don’t habitually blame him for his anguish.

Saying therapy would fix him ignores that his problems are not individual. They are collective. It’s the reason the entire story resonates with people! Something deeply, unignorably wrong with society, where people would rather blame you for bringing it up than try and address it, because it feels impossible. I don’t blame people for this, really, because it IS scary. It’s terrifying to sit and feel like you’ve realized there’s something deeply, deeply wrong, but if you say something, people will get mad at you since it’s so baked into everything around you. Or, even if they agree, it’s easier to deal with the dissonance by pretending it’s individual.

And it’s not like that’s not the purpose therapy and medications largely serve, anyway. Getting into dangerous territory for this website, but ultimately, the reason the narrator was seeking medication was because it’s a bandaid. A very numbing bandaid. For these very large, dissonance causing problems, therapy does very little. Medications do what they always have, and distract you with numbness or side effects. It’s a false solution. He is seeking an individualized false solution because he has been browbeaten with the idea that this is an issue with him alone, when it's plainly clear it's not.

Don't get me wrong. Obviously he has something wrong with him. But it's a product of his situation. It is a fictional exaggeration of a very real occurrence of mental illness provoked by deep unconscionable dissonance and anguish. There is a clear correlation between what happens and his mental state and his job and how isolated he is.

The thing is, even if he were chemically numbed, I do think he would’ve lost it regardless. Many people on meds find they don’t fix things. For reasons I’ll get into, but in this case because even if numbed or distracted, once you’ve learned about deep, far reaching corruption in society, it’s very hard to forget. Especially if, in his case, you literally serve as the acting hand of this particular variety. He’s crawling up the walls.

So why do people say this? Well, it's funny I guess. Maybe the first time or whatever. But also, often, they believe it, to a degree. Maybe they've just been told how effective therapy and meds are for mental illness, they believe wholeheartedly in The Disease Model of Mental Illness, maybe they themselves have engaged with either and have considered it successful. Maybe they or someone they know has been 'saved' by such treatments.

But in all honesty.... What therapy can help with is mentality, it's how you approach problems. For issues on a smaller scale, not meaning they are easier to deal with my any degree, but ones that are not raw and direct from deep awareness of corruption; these are things that can be worked through if you get lucky and get an actually good therapist who helps build up your resiliency. But when your issue is concrete, something large and inescapable? It's useless. At best it can help you develop coping mechanisms, but there is a limit for that. There is a point where that fails. To develop the ability to handle something like this requires intense development of a comfort with ambiguity and dissonance and being isolated and a firm positioning of your purpose and values and and belief in wonder and all the other shit I ramble about. The things that the narrator lacks, which lead him to taking an ineffectual death knell anarchist self-destruction path. Therapy, where the narrator is, full of the knowledge of braces melted to seats and all the people that have to allow this to happen? It fails.

And meds â€” meds are a fucking scam. We know the working mechanism of basically none of them, the serotonin receptor model was made up and paid its way into prominence. We have very little evidence they're any better than placebo, and they come with genuinely horrific side effects. Maybe you got lucky. I did, on some meds. On others? I don't remember 2018. The pharmaceutical industry is also known for rampant medical ghostwriting, and for creating 'off-label' uses for drugs that have gained too many protests in their original use, then creating a cult of use to then have 'grassroots' campaigns for it to be made a label use (ie, legitimize their ghostwritten articles with guided anecdotes).

The DSM itself is basically a marketing segregation plot. It's an attempt to legitimize the disease model by isolating subgroups of symptoms to propose individualized treatments for subgroups that are not necessarily all that separate. But if the groups exist, you can prescribe more and different medications, no? Not to mention, if you use the disease model, you can propose that these diseases are permanent, or permanent until treated, considered more and more severe to offset and justify the horrific side effects of the medications. Do you know why male birth control doesn't really exist? Same reason. They can justify all the horrible side effects for women, because the other option is pregnancy. For men, it's nothing.

And they're not bothering to invent new drugs without side effects. When they invent new drugs it's just because the last one got too bad of a name, or they can enter a new market. Modern drugs don't work any better than gen1 drugs. They still have horrific side effects. At best, the industry will shit out studies saying the old one was flawed (truth) so they can say this new gen will be better (lie). They're doing it with ssris right now.

Fundamentally, the single proposed benefit of any of these drugs is that they numb you. To whatever is torturing you. It's harder to be depressed if you can't feel it, or if you just can't muster the same outrage. Of course, there is people who find that numbness to be helpful, or worth it. But often, it's stasis. For the people who have problems that can be worked on, it serves as a stopgap to not actually work on said problems. The natural outcome of the disease model is stagnation for those whose need is to develop skills and resiliency. It keeps them medicalized and dependent on the idea that they're diseased and incapable. Profitable. Stuck in the womb.

I’ve been there. It’s easier, to wallow, and resist growth because it’s difficult and painful and unfair and cruel and you can think of five billion reasons to justify your languishing. But don’t listen to anyone who tells you you’re just permanently damaged, no matter how nicely they word it, no identity or novel pathologization, no matter how many benefits they promise, especially if they swear up and down some lovely expensive medications with little solid backing and plentiful off-label usage and side effects that’ll kill you. Some days it feels like they want us all stuck in pods, agoraphobic and addicted to the ads they feed us to isolate the markets for the drugs they’ve trained us to beg them to pump us with. Polarization making it as easy as flashing blue light for go, red like for stop, or vice versa. I worry about the kids, for fucks sake. That’s a bit dark and intense, and I apologize. But I want you (generic) to understand, there is a profit motive. Behind everything. And they do not mean well. They do not care about your mental health or your rights or your personhood or your growth. They care about how they can profit off of you.

For those struggling with immovable, society problems, like the narrator grappling with how his job fits into and is accepted by society while his rejection and horror in the face of it does not, it can work about as well as any other drug addiction. Your mileage may vary. From what I've seen, recovering from being on prozac for a long time can be worse than alcohol. They put kids on this shit. They keep campaigning for more. Off label, again. A pharmaceutical company’s favorite thing to do has to be to spread rumors of someone who knows someone who said an off label use of this drug helps with this little understood condition. Or, in the case of mental illness, questionably defined condition. And like, damn, I know I'm posting on the 'medicalization is my identity' website so no one will like all this and has probably stopped reading by now, but yall should be exposed to at least one person who doubts this stuff. Doesn't just trust it. Because I mean, that's the thing right?

It's so big. What would it mean, for this all to be true? Yeah, everyone says pharmaceutical companies are evil and predatory and ghostwriting, but to think about what that really entails. Coming back to the book, everyone knows the car lobby is huge and puts dangerous vehicles through that kill people. What does it mean if the car companies all hire people to calculate the cost of a recall and the cost of lawsuits? No one wants to think about the scale that means for people allowing it or the systems that have to be geared towards money, not safety like they say. Hell, even Chuck misses the beat and has the narrator threaten his boss with the Department of Transportation. And shit, man, if every company is doing this, you think Transportation doesn't know? That they give a fuck? You're better off mailing all the evidence to the news outlets and hoping they only character assassinate you a little bit as they release the news in a way that says it's all the fault of little workers like you, not the whole system. Something something, David McBride, any whistleblower you feel like, etc.

So I don't blame you, if your reaction is "but but but, that can't be right, people wouldn't do it, they wouldn't allow it" or just an overwhelming feeling of dread that pushes you to deny all of this and avoid thinking about it. Just know, that's in the book. That's all the seatmates on the flights. That's all his fellow officemates. It's easier to pretend, I know.

But think about, how the response fits in with the themes of the book. The story, as a movie too. What drives the narrator’s mental breakdown? How would you handle being in his position? How would you handle being his seatmate? It’s easy to say you’d listen. But have you? Have you had any soul wrenching betrayals of how you thought society worked? How about a betrayal by the thing that promised to be the fix of the first? Can you honestly say you wouldn’t follow that gut instinct, saying follow what everyone says, that person must just be crazy, evil, rude, cruel, whatever it is that means you can set what they said aside?

For a lot of people, they can do that, I guess. Set it aside. Reaching that aforementioned state of managing to cope with the dissonance and ambiguity and despair is very hard. The narrator made the Big Realization, but he couldn’t cope. He self-destructed. Even when people don’t make the big realization consciously, they’re already self-destructing. It’s hard to escape it when it feels easier than continuing anyway. When it feels like the only option,

Would therapy fix the narrator of Fight Club? Would meds fix the narrator of Fight Club? No. He knows too much. All meds will do, by the time he’s in the psych ward, is spiritually neuter him. A silly phrase, but really. Take the wind out of his sails.

Is he fixed if he doesn’t try to blow up town? If he just shuts up and settles in and stops costing money? If he still can’t cope with the things he’s unearthed? Do you see how this is a commentary in a commentary in a commentary?

Fight Club is an absolutely fascinating story because of this. The fact that it addresses the fallout of knowing. The isolation. The hopelessness. The spiral that results from a lack of hope. This is, I think, what resonates most with people, even if not consciously. Going insane because you’ve discovered something you wish you could unknow. It’s a classic horror story. Should our society be lovecraftian evil? I don’t think so.

Do I think changing it will be easy? No. Lord knows a lot exists to push people who make these sorts of Realizations towards feelings of individuality and individualized solutions and denial and other distractions and coping methods. And to prevent people who make One realization from expanding on it and considering further ramifications. Fight Club itself gets into this; the isolation of men being a strict part of the role society shapes for their sex leaves them very vulnerable to death fetishes, in a sense, and generally towards self destructive violence. It helps funnel them away from substantial change and towards ineffectual change. Many things, misogyny, racism, serve to keep people isolated from one another, individualized, angry, and impossible to work with. Market segregation; god knows even appealing on those fronts has become such a classic ploy that companies do it now, the US military frames its plundering that way, etc.

I’ve wandered a bit but ultimately, my point is this: Fight Club is a love letter to the horrors of critical thinking, and the importance of not falling into the trap of self destruction and hopelessness in the face of it. The latter is why Tyler was an anarchoterrorist instead of anything useful. The latter is why it was a death cult. It’s important to work through the horrors of critical thinking so you can do it, and stand on the other side ready to believe in each other. It’s worth it.

#fight club #my writing #uh. sorta #If you disagree with me it's fine btw. That's a given for me but I realize that's not usual for this website #my big desire is always to provoke thought and get people to think about why they think things #not necessarily to get them to agree with me. though obviously like any person i enjoy that #it was nice to type this out #also #aside from the prozac withdrawals mention and my own experience w memory loss (hilariously not even the most major of my beefs with the #medical industry! or even just the mental health industry! but its an easy nonoffensive one so #anyway i kept it nonspecific because if you go specific it becomes easier for people to just go 'oh well its That that's the problem and i #dont need to reflect at all on my drug/condition/issue/etc'#which ppl will anyway ofc. but yk #maybe theyll find it easier to ignore without the horrific specific examples but i want to leave it broad because 1. doing research and #going past the first thing you find and confirmation bias stuff is good 4 u #second. it's better imo to leave it more open for people to try and apply it broadly #whew ANYWAY #a bonafide Rant #i shouldve put #anti psychiatry #in the first few tags. i havent really looked on tumblr to see what the community 4 that is like on here because it feels like an oxymoron #on this website #but im sure it probably exists even if its used for smth else #(please change)

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years ago

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milkman reader milking rootbeer cause is that time of the month

(Reader is a "farmer" rather than milkman because that's a different can of worms. Minors shoo. No outright smut, but you do milk the guy's tits and it almost gets there. Obvs warning for male lactation)

Farmer.

A nickname lovingly bestowed upon you by new neighbors and friends. You didn't have any crops, nor animals in a literal since, but you were the proud owner of the old farm house on the outskirts of their town. The place was a little run down, but livable until you had the chance to fix things up. With the price it would be good as new in no time. It was quite the shock to discover the town was full of hybrids, but the locals were all friendly and welcomed you with open arms. Especially Rootbeer.

Riley was a walking stereotype with his thick, southern accent and smooth tongue, but he had also taken a liking to you since the day you moved in. A steady flirt who was always there when you least expected it and at your door when you needed a shoulder to lean on, sometimes even when you hadn't told a soul about your problems. Brought you gifts often too such as embroideries he worked on in his shop and the occasional bottle of fresh milk. He really was nothing short of a gentleman when it came to you, and tonight was the night he'd reap the chances of his efforts.

Riley has... been avoiding you. He'd greet you just the same, but stop the conversation there. He would constantly stare at you so it's not like he was completely avoiding you, but whenever you tried to reach out he'd make an excuse of chest aches or simply leave. Even now, sitting alone on your couch, you have your messages open - unsure if you should try just one more time.

A heavy fist on your front door snaps you from that pipedream.

"Coming!" You toss you phone onto the couch as you hop to your feet and over to the door. Your visitor knocks again as you unlock the door, opening it for you. It's Riley. Out of his normal get up and in a hoodie and some old beat up jeans. There's stains on the front of his shirt, still bleeding through the fabric as he pushes you inside.

"Look, there isn't a whole lot of time for me to explain, but I really need your help. I'm real sorry for the way I've been treating you, but I didn't want to hurt you or scare you away."

You watch the growing stains on his chest, the tee constricting his muscles and lungs fighting to breath. "You're gonna have to give some explanation."

"I know- shit." He runs his fingers through his hair, tearing off the hood ill fitted to his horned scalp. "As you can clearly see, we ain't normal cows. Every couple weeks we lactate depending on diet and whatnot. That can get more frequent if we find a suitable mate and.." He stops himself. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I'm not able to do it myself. Please.."

It looks like he's struggling to breath, about ready to drop to his knees from the look in his eyes. You can't just leave him like this. "Okay... I'll help you out"

You lead him over to the couch before he melts into the floorboards. You help peel off his shirt and roll it over his engorged pecs. You cup your hand around his left, beads of milk leaking from his inverted nipple from the cautious touch alone. The area was red and swollen, yet his chest as a whole was soft and plump - part of the former likely being due to his vain attempts at releasing himself. You gently kneed upwards, looking up at Riley for guidance.

"You're doing fine. Feelin' a little better already. You don't have'ta do more than your comfort with." He completes with an attempt at a laugh, shoving his rolled up shirt into his mouth to make his groans as you grip his chest with firm hands. At this position, and when you're standing up, you're about chest height with him. You lean forward and circle your tongue around his untouched bub which makes his eyes pop out of his skull as his spine curves against the arm of the couch.

The milk was creamy, with that faint root taste akin to the drink he got his nickname. It tasted almost like a richer rootbeer float. Come to think of it, that's exactly what the milk he gave you tasted like. Probably should've realized that sooner. You'd get on his case about it later, but your hands and mouth were quite literally to full to bring it up.

For now, you firmly wraps your lips around his tit and suck the tender bud. Riley shifts in your hold and tries to keep a bold face. It's the first time someone's helped him with a milking.. ever, really. He tried to imagine a scene similar to this while doing it himself, but obviously no fantasy could compare to the real thing. You move into his lap for better range, erect rutting against his jeans and the curve of your ass as you work the fluid from his chest. He grips your thigh to pull you further up before you could notice, but instead you roll your hips against his as you settle directly on that spot. His teeth pierce a hole clean through his shirt as he groans.

To lessen the later cleanup, you switch sides and lap up the milk running down his torso as you work back up to his nipple. Riley collects some of your saliva as his hand travels down to the heat between his legs, slipping into his boxers just to simulate what having your mouth around his girth could feel like. It's shameful, but he doesn't care. You couldn't return to normalcy after doing something like this and he wanted all in. To hold you like he's dreamed since the day you moved in. He taps on your back at you drain the last few drops from his chest.

"Heya, Y/n? I don't want to push my luck and all, but it'd be a real big help if you could help me with another kind of milking."

#Im going to hell #yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere smut #yandere lemon #yandere hybrid #Milk farm tag

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arson-09 · 10 months ago

Text

Why AcoMaF is a subjectively BAD BOOK

Point 1: feels like a different series

Acomaf does NOT feel like a sequel to acotar. The main reason being your introduced to a whole new cast of characters without warning. Typically, in a series your introduced to your main characters in the first book and the cast that will come and go throughout the rest of the series (ex pjo, six of crows, the cruel prince) you get new characters introduced at some points but you already know all the really important people. in acomaf though we basically forego the og acotar cast (which was small) and given a HUGE cast of important characters. Along with a new, large plot that really didn't get footing in acotar. The only thing that carries over between the two books in Feyre. Tamlin and the spring court hardly count in my mind cause its so drastically different from how it was written in acotar

point 2: characters, their motivs, and their writing

I can go on for AGES about the character assassination of Tamlin. Sjm completely re-wrote his character. There was no actually foreshadowing for this behavior in acotar and i will talk on this more in a later point. But back to our main girl Feyre. Feyre wasn't horrific in this book (shockingly) however she frequently states things that aren't true. Example, she says that "He [Tamlin] hadn't tried to kill her [Amarantha], hadn't crawled for me." which is false. to quote acotar "I found Tamlins eyes- wide as he crawled towards Amarantha, watching me die, and unable to save me while his wound slowly healed, while she still gripped his power." I could also cite early passages where Tamlin is BEGGING Amarantha to stop hurting Feyre. We are told why in acotar Tamlin couldn't fix everything (giving reason to Feyre having to do the trials etc etc) however this is promptly forgotten in acomaf to villainize Tamlin and give Feyre some sort of motive. A completely unnecessary thing. SJM can't commit to what she wrote previously, having to retcon things instead of thinking up some other motivation or reasoning. Its frankly lazy and makes the story feel cheap. I made many highlights in acomaf where something is directly retconned.

point 3: SJM and writing anger issues and mentally ill characters.

This will mainly focus on Tamlin as his character and his issues are quite personal to me.

Tamlin is written to have anger issues. these are vaguely hinted at in acotar when, after Rhysand comes and threatens the shit out of everyone Tamlin orders everyone to leave the dining room and then takes his anger out on the furniture (that is what is hinted at anyway) and then in acomaf these outbursts of anger are amped up. And used to go "look! he's actually evil and a bad person!"

As someone who has anger issues, a short temper, whatever you want to call it, finds this really disheartening. It's clear to me that sjm doesn't actually put thought or care into writing characters with tempers. Its also extremely biased as Rhysand is written to have a short temper however this is never a problem, but it is with Nesta and Tamlin. Now this is not me excusing abuse, but a character having anger issues does not equal abusive and bad like the acotar fandom heavily does with Tamlin. In general Tamlin's character is so dissolved in acomaf its just sad. SJM didn't even try to write a convincing character descent. At some point in writing acotar she fell in love with Rhysand and decided she wanted to change the love interest. (she had done this before in throne of glass) and while that's fine choosing to use Tamlins anger issues and protectiveness to attempt to write an antagonist was a cheap cop out. She couldn't even commit to making him an actual villain. Shes just capitalizing off of mental issues.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #tamlin #rhysand #feyre #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #sjm #sjm critical

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abarbaricyalp · 11 months ago

Text

👽🐈🚀

What Happiness Is

Sam was still getting settled on the bed when he answered the facetime call, so Bucky just let himself look at all the shaky cam footage of his broad chest--a bruise along one pectoral that Bucky would have to ask about--and his slightly grown out beard and the long curl of his lashes when the phone was suddenly right next to his face.

It was late in Louisiana--later in New York--and Sam seemed to have already turned off most of the lights. He was bathed in the pretty amber of the bedside lamp light they'd spent four hours looking for one day. At the time, Bucky had not appreciated Sam's insistence that they try out every. single. lamp. until they found the exact color tone they could both stand. Right now, he really really really appreciated it.

"Heard you got called out to something today," Sam greeted.

Bucky tore his eyes away from the curve of Sam's neck and shoulder to look at his face again. "You will not believe what it was," he groaned.

Sam grinned at him and Bucky's heart just about catapulted out of his chest. "Crashed spaceship, right?"

"Escape pod, yeah. It was ours. Something from SABER. Fury was on it."

"Fury was on it?!" Sam laughed. He shifted in the bed, fixed a pillow behind his back, and then folded an arm behind his head to lean back on. "Tell me more right now."

Bucky waited, because he now had to map out all of the musculature in Sam's arm. "God, I wish I was there with you," he groaned softly. "I miss our bed."

"Buck, focus," Sam ordered, though there was a pleased smile on his face. Bucky wanted to keep it there forever. "Fury crash landed in Central Park."

"Yeah. They asked me to go before they knew exactly what was going on, just that a SABER craft was rocketing back into the atmosphere. I still got there after the crash."

Sam nodded encouragingly. He used to tease Bucky that he told stories the way he filled out incident reports, but the teasing had eased once he learned how boring a verbose story could be instead. ("I know you can tell good stories," he'd said once. "You entertain the kids no problem." But it just wasn't the same, Bucky had argued. Sam always knew the truth and the truth was half as interesting.)

"So, anyway, I get there. Things are still smoldering. SHIELD is gonna have to pay another million dollars for the clean up. There are a few people around. And everyone is just kind of...wet?"

"Wet?" Sam asked, amused. Bucky was still in one piece and there seemed to be no indication of illness or hurt, so whatever caused the wetness was more interesting than worrying.

"Yeah. And there were a thousand cats around. Kittens, actually."

Sam's brow furrowed, but he was still grinning amiably. "Kittens? Did you adopt one?"

"I'm getting there," Bucky insisted.

"So we definitely have a cat now," Sam surmised.

Bucky waved him off. "Anyway, so there's all these slightly wet scientists, and Fury, and kittens! And then, and then, and then... Sam you are not going to believe this."

"Please do not keep me in suspense any longer," Sam played dramatically.

Bucky grinned at Sam and Sam grinned right back. "Sam. The cats threw up a bunch of Lovecraftian tentacles and more scientists," he said as slowly and calmly as he could.

Sam shot up in the bed and held the phone more firmly. "What?!"

Bucky had known this would delight and intrigue Sam and he was very pleased that it had. He preened as he sank deeper into the corner of the couch. Out of frame, his hand fell to the fuzzball snoozing in his lap.

"Yeah, man," he laughed. For a second, his eyes fell on his own image, tucked away in the corner, as small as it would go because sometimes he hated looking at himself and the smaller that box was, the more he could see of Sam. But, right now, he didn't mind how he looked. All crinkly eyed and happy. Younger and older at the same time. "Apparently there are alien cats out there."

"The world gets stranger every day," Sam sighed. But that lovely grin was still on his face. "What else happened?"

"Well, apparently it was a Captain Marvel thing," Bucky started again.

"You saw Carol?" Sam asked in excitement. The only person in the world who could rival Bucky's enthusiasm over Danvers was probably Sam. Apparently she was an entire celebrity in the Air Force. Bucky had heard no less than a thousand times that Danvers and Rambeau lived in Louisiana and clearly Louisiana produced the best superheroes in the world.

"Nah, she wasn't there. Had to finish the mission, or something. But this girl showed up. Do you remember Jersey City?"

"I try not to think about Jersey City at all," Sam answered, exactly the way Bucky knew he would.

"Remember, a few weeks ago, the Department of Damage Control got called out to Jersey City? It became a whole thing. It was on TV. Those teenagers totally pulled the rug out from under Deever?" Bucky insisted. "You were on call to do a bunch of PR if it got any worse."

Sam thought for a moment, then waved his hand in a so-so kind of way. "I never did have to do anything with it. What about it?"

"It's the girl from that. She's called Ms. Marvel, I guess. I dunno, she mostly talked about me instead of herself."

"You?" Sam snorted. "What could she possibly have to say about you?"

"Man, she had an entire Wikipedia page of information. She asked me things I didn't even remember the answer to."

Sam laughed again. Bucky melted further into the couch. "So, don't keep me in suspense anymore, Barnes," he pressed one more time. "Show me the aliens we own."

First, Bucky flipped the camera around to show the black and white kitten with his spotted face. He was rolling a shiny pom-pom around, batting it to one side of the kitchen and then bounding over it to catch it before it could roll under the cupboards, then doing it the other direction again.

"That one's yours. I've been calling him Oreo, but he doesn't really react to it, so you can name him when you meet him."

"How are you gonna get an alien cat on an airplane?" Sam asked, but Bucky saw through his slightly sarcastic words to his big, gleaming eyes. Sam pretended like he wasn't a big pet person, but he was always the first one to volunteer for pet sitting duty around Delacroix and he fed more strays than Bucky had ever seen in one place. He had a whole circuit he did in the mornings on his run. Took a backpack with food packed in it.

"I'll just drive this time. I have a car, y'know."

"Uh-huh. What makes you think I want an alien cat?"

Bucky shrugged, even though the camera was still faced away from him. "Look at his little face. He's got spots. He's the best," he defended. "And look at this one."

He turned the camera around again and angled it down to show off the white kitten in his lap. "Gotta say, though, I think this one's just a regular cat."

"How can you possibly tell the difference?" Sam asked.

"Well, look at what she does," he said and poked the kitten's shoulder until she lifted her pretty little head and yawned all big like cats did. "Versus what Oreo does--"

He flipped the camera again and found the black and white kitten in the frame. He tossed a bouncy ball over to it. The kitten's eyes got huge as he watched the ball and then, all of a sudden, a dozen tentacles came pouring out of his mouth to catch the ball before it could bounce too far away.

Sam yelped on the other side of the call. "What the hell, Bucky?" he shouted. The kitten in Bucky's lap lifted her head again at the commotion, took stock the situation, and then climbed out of his lap to lay on the couch cushion next to him instead.

"I told you, man. He's an alien. But look at that face."

The kitten, now with tentacles hidden away again, was mewling softly and looking around for the ball. Sam grumbled, then admitted, "He's pretty cute. But can't call him Oreo."

"What do you want to call him?" Bucky humored.

"I dunno. Something spacey. What about Figaro?"

The kitten lifted his head at the name and came trotting over. Bucky raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"I guess that's it," he conceded. "But why Figaro? How is that spacey?"

"It's not," Sam admitted. "But in Bohemian Rhapsody, it gets used next to Galileo and Magnifico. Besides, he looks like the cat from Pinocchio."

"You know the cat from Pinnicchio's name off the top of your head?" Bucky asked skeptically.

"Yeah, unlike you, I pay attention when I watch movies."

Bucky rolled his eyes at the ribbing. He was about to turn the camera around and do it again so Sam could see it, but Figaro, formerly Oreo, began scratching his head against the side of Bucky's phone and purring.

"Aw, Sammy, look at that," he cooed, saccharine and a little teasing. "He likes your voice."

"I can't see anything," Sam pointed out just as Figaro covered the camera again.

Bucky shifted the camera enough to show the not-cat again. He sat back and blinked at the phone. Sam made some sort of noise, but without seeing his face, Bucky wasn't sure what it was. Begrudging adoration, he hoped.

"What did Fury have to say about all of this?" Sam asked.

Bucky turned the camera around again so he was back in the shot. "That if I told anyone, he'd put me on a spaceship without an engine," Bucky admitted. "But everyone's gotta know I'm gonna tell you."

"You're a terrible spy," Sam agreed. But that lovely, pleased smile was back on his face. Bucky was getting better at being charming and polite, but being around Sam definitely skewed his results because Sam was pretty reactive as soon as Bucky got sweet. "Don't know how you got added to that reformed bad guys team."

"You of all people know how that ended," Bucky pointed out. Crashing, burning, screaming. A hundred disciplinary referrals on himself. "'How does Captain America keep figuring out our intel? Gosh, it just doesn't make sense.' It didn't take a genius to put it together."

"If it had, it never woulda been figured out," Sam finished. Bucky's gripes were very predictable. "When are you coming home?"

"As soon as Fury gives me the okay. He already gave me alien cats. Hopefully he'll want me out of sight soon too."

"And you're really bringing those things here?"

"The boys are gonna love them, " Bucky promised with a grin.

"You're taking care of the litter box," Sam warned. "And tentacle issues! I'll be on cuddle duty."

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly and held a hand over his heart. "I'll take care of the litter box."

"I miss you," Sam said softly. "Get back home soon. With your new minions."

"Everything that likes me first loves you more," Bucky reminded him. "They'll be your minions within a weekend."

Sam smiled and did not argue because he couldn't. "I love you. See you soon."

"Love you too," Bucky said, though it was drowned out by a plaintive set of meows and then Sam's laughter before he hung up.

Alien cats, Bucky thought as he watched Alpine chase Figaro. His sci-fi books hadn't prepared him for that one.

this has been sitting in my drafts since I saw the movie opening night. enjoy 👽🐈

#sambucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #flerken #alpine the cat #figaro the cat

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