#i mean also i should add a content note that it is in fact a slasher film

[dipstick-university]

say what you will but i highly enjoyed bodies bodies bodies. cute fun for everyone.

[cinnamonest]

I'm not looking to start shit so I'm not linking it or anything, but you may have seen a recent anti-dark-content post circulating with a lot of notes making rounds in the x reader sphere and while I have nothing against people posting their feelings in their own private spaces, every time I see these kinds of posts there's a lot of misinformation that gets regurgitated in the reblogs/replies and I saw what looked like a battlezone in the replies, so.

I know posts like that can be very jarring and affects people like my readers, so to combat misinformation/shaming for anyone who saw it, I'm going to share some of my information on combatting fandom puritanism/misogyny/kinkshaming in its most common forms.

The most important fact, if you read nothing else, is this:

Most women have rape fantasies.

62% to be exact. I think the most pervasive myth on this content is that consumers are "weird" for it, when the numbers don't indicate that. You're in the majority!

The vast majority of people who have rape fantasies do not put them into practice in real life. A variety of factors can determine whether or not they do, particularly specific psychiatric disorders. (X)

To specifically address common harmful and pervasive myths:

the "go to therapy!" line

Generally any academic or professional resource will immediately tell you that consuming and engaging in "dark" fantasies is accepted and encouraged by mainstream psychiatry and part of the professional education for psychiatrists. (This also used to be pretty well-known until like the last 5 years or so, not sure why that changed.)

Here are some particularly insightful resources:

1) This article by Dr. David Wahl, in my opinion, hands-down does the best job of simply and thoroughly explaining why these fantasies occur and why couples practice CNC, as well as the fact that they are both harmless, psychologically beneficial to those with them, and not at all correlated to real-life rape.

2) Dr. Claudia Six has some of the best and most thorough material out there on the subject, specifically explaining why this is taught in mainstream academia psychology and how it is incredibly helpful to rape victims (X).

3) Lisa Diamond is a professional who focuses on this subject a lot, and was featured in the documentary "The Dilemma of Desire," in which she specifically focuses on how these fantasies are not correlated to real-life desires. (X)

4) Dr. Casey Lyle has specifically talked a lot on his socials about how fantasies, even in men/the perspective of the offender, do not correlate to actual risk of offending.

5) This article is not by a professional, but from the perspective of a survivor discussing how it is beneficial to survivors.

the "why would you want that?" line

The idea that fictional tastes = what you want to happen to you in real life is actually of misogynistic origin. I don't want to seek out or add links on this one, but if you're really curious, you can research about how the idea that "women read rape fiction, that means they secretly want rape!" was originally a classic "red pill"/MGTOW/4chan talking point that made its way into mainstream dialogue and thus the public mind in the last 15 years or so due to the incel epidemic popularizing those communities.

the "it's only valid for survivors then!" line

On one hand, yes it's very important to acknowledge that trauma victims use it to cope, however I feel that over-emphasizing that gives the impression that non-victims should be excluded from consumption of dark content, so to clarify, it's a very valid means for all women. Many women who have not personally experienced rape still fantasize about it, and that's fine.

The full explanation as to why this is true for many of them would be lengthy (and addressed in the aforementioned Dilemma of Desire documentary), but in the simplest terms, nonconsensual sex is the only context in which patriarchal society permits women to have sex at all without feeling guilt. For many women, particularly those in more heavily misogynistic or religious cultures, these fantasies are appealing because the idea of consensual sex may give them feelings of shame, guilt, "sin," etc. These fantasies allow them to experience the feeling of being desired without guilt of participation.

No society on earth is free of the psychological grip that cultural misogyny has on women, and shaming women for adapting to the conditions they are forced to exist under is as harmful as the misogyny that causes it itself.

ALL women experience a form of psychological trauma inherent to female childhood and female adolescence in a patriarchal world, and that is just as valid as coping with individual traumatic events.

Good resources on the subject of why women have these fantasies and how they are helpful in general:

(X) (X)

The "what you consume will make you do it in real life!" myth

Although the resources above already address this, it's important to establish why this myth is so prevalent and what its origins are.

The idea that consuming media with dark themes leads to or indicates desires to replicate those acts is a residual element of two major events:

1) Puritan revival culture, popularized in the US and UK in the 90s and 2000s (also known as "Satanic Panic"). A major facet of this movement was TV megachurch preachers making money off of exploiting well-meaning but paranoid parents into believing that your child playing Dungeons and Dragons or Pokemon would make them future serial killers and lure them into satanic cults. (X)

2) at the tail end of this, it was cemented in the public mind as a cultural ripple aftershock of the Columbine shooting, where this sentiment became popularized as the general public blamed violent video games like Doom and "dark" music like Marilyn Manson (whose life was temporarily completely upended by the events and took him years to recover/be safe from) for the 1999 shooting. This event had MASSIVE permanent and global effects in all sorts of ways that the public often underestimates the sheer scope of, notably that it solidified, prolonged, and, in the minds of many, "proved" the paranoias of the preexisting Satanic Panic. (X) This established a precedent, leading to virtually any major horrible event being blamed on the perpetrator's media consumption, including murder and sex crimes.

What this myth ignores in the cases it references (the slenderman stabbings, columbine, sasebo slashing, batman shooting, etc) is two crucial facts: that hundreds of millions of people consume the same media with no negative effects (helpful effects even), and that in every single case cited as "evidence" to the claim, the perpetrator had a preexisting psychiatric condition correlated to acts of violence (which usually went ignored, downplayed and even accelerated/worsened by those around them rather than the help they needed).

Sorry for the wall of text, but I feel an ethical obligation to combat this kind of misinformation, and I hope these resources are helpful for those who may be negatively affected by common misunderstandings.

You are not abnormal or wrong for the fictional content you consume or the fantasies you have!

[papercorgiworld]

Pansy’s interrogation II

Enzo, Blaise, Mattheo, Draco and Theo

Pansy’s back with more teasing and questions to confirm her suspicions.

Honestly, I know this isn’t peak writing, but I personally just love these little scenario’s. Also, no warnings!

All interrogations are separate scenes, so you don’t need to read part 1, but if you’re curious: read it here.

I’m currently working on a request based on the scenario’s of part one of ‘Pansy’s Interrogation’. Theo’s I will post later today, like in a few hours or so. The other one about Mattheo’s scenario is a bit of a struggle, so hopefully tomorrow evening.

Enzo Berkshire

Pansy joins Enzo at the Slytherin table in the great hall for an early breakfast. “Lorenzo, sweetie.” He looks up as Pansy takes a seat next to him. Oh dear, she wants something. He hates this, he gets nervous when Pansy wants something from him. He really isn’t good at keeping secrets.

Pansy fills her plate, while Enzo contemplates what she could possibly want from him. “Yesterday the girls and I were talking and it came up that-“ Enzo drops his spoon on his plate, startling Pansy. He then turns to her, catching her full attention. “I wasn’t staring at (y/n)’s boobs… or ass. I mean I wasn’t looking at her. I’ve never seen (y/n) in my life.”

Pansy smirks. Dearest Lorenzo, you're a simp. Blaise and Theo join them, but immediately frown at Enzo’s flustered face. “He just confessed his love for (y/n).” Pansy chuckles.

Enzo eyes widened. “I didn’t confess to anything.” Blaise drops his head as he laughs. “Enzo, mate, almost everyone knows.” Enzo narrows his eyes in frustration with his friend. “Pretty sure I’ve heard you say her name in your sleep.” Theo adds.

Pansy laughs content with all the information she’s collecting. “It was more like a moan.” Blaise argues, making it worse. Enzo is losing his mind by now, worried what you’ll think of him. He’s pleased when he spots Mattheo and Draco approaching.

“Guys, help me out here. They’re saying I’m in love with (y/n).” Draco chuckles. “You mean the girl you yesterday referred to as your future wife.” You’re all a bunch of assholes!

“Okay, Pans, are you open to bribes? Because I really don’t need (y/n) knowing about this.” Pansy grins. “Maybe.”

Blaise Zabini

Blaise walks away from you with a blissful smile. Pansy’s already grinning when he makes eye contact with her. He groans when she laces her arm with him. “So attentive of you help her carry her books.” Blaise just nods. “I would do the same for your Pansy.” She just darts her eyes at him. Flattery won’t help you, dearest Blaisy. “Reminds me of when you helped her during potions last week and let’s not forget that you lent her your notes for Herbology.”

Blaise forces her to let go of his arm, creating some much needed distance so he can keep up his cool act. “What can I say, Pansy, I’m just a really nice person. Maybe you should follow my example.”

“You’re nice on the eyes. But that’s as far as you go on the topic of nice.” Pansy argues, making Blaise’s eyes roll up in frustration.

“Hey, hey, Blaise, mate, I need your help.” Mattheo comes running towards them.

“You’re in luck, Matt, because as of recently Blaise is a nice and helpful person.” Mattheo frowns at Pansy, but decides to ignore her and turns to Blaise. “Sluggy says I really screwed up by not showing up to class… for two weeks. So, next week we will team up so I can fix my grades, alrighty?” Blaise just stares at his friend, while cursing that Pansy’s still there.

“Can’t you ask Theo?” Mattheo shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll annoy the hell out of him and get the content of the cauldron in my face.” Blaise sighs. “I can't, I need to help… someone else.”

Pansy licks her lips. “Let me guess?” She sings. “(Y/n)?” Mattheo grins in realization and Blaise clenches his jaw. A twisted smile tugs at Pansy’s lips.

“Alright then mate, since you’ve already got Pansy to deal with I won’t cockblock.” Mattheo leaves and Blaise just groans at the fact that Pansy’s still staring at him with wicked eyes.

Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo watches you excitedly explain something to Hermoine at the Gryffindor table. When you catch him staring he winks at you and looks away. “Ahww.” Mattheo suddenly hears Pansy’s voice next to him, making him lose his appetite.

“It’s cute, but I don’t know in what male fantasy world, staring and winking makes a girl fall in love with you, but in this world it won’t work.” Mattheo’s tongue is poking the inside of his cheek as tries to ignore her presence.

“I might know what will make her fall in love.” Pansy whispers near Mattheo’s ear. His eyes search you and he finds you laughing with the Weasley twins, reminding him that you’re both worlds apart.

“Yeah, that’s great, go tell it to someone who cares.” Mattheo’s tone is calm, but his eyes are dark. He gets up and heads for the common room. Pansy raises an eyebrow at Mattheo’s sensitive behavior, before filling her plate without a care in the world. Apparently, someone’s still in denial of their feelings.

Draco Malfoy

“What's up with that (y/n) girl?” Draco snars as he sits down in the great hall, making Pansy drop out of the conversation she was having.

“She’s wearing mismatching socks like some looney. Which is nearly as bad as that glittery thing she was wearing during the last quidditch game.” Pansy’s head was resting in her palm while enjoying Draco’s little rant.

“And what’s up with all those hearts that she draws next to her notes? Makes me sick.” Draco’s face fills with disgust and annoyance.

“Those hearts are because of you.” Draco looks up at Pansy, a blush immediately creeping up on his cheeks. “Really?”

“No. Of course not.” Pansy laughs and Blaise, who sits opposite of Draco, can’t help but snicker, earning himself a dirty look from Draco.

Pansy licks her lips, ready to play her game. “You sure know a lot about her. Been watching her? Or should I say stalking?” Draco gets a little nervous and avoids Pansy’s eyes. “I just notice things.” Pansy hums, not impressed with his answer.

“Then you’ve probably also seen her hang out with Diggory?” Draco snorts, unable to hide his frustration about the matter. “Yeah, what is that even about?”

“Maybe those little hearts on her notes have something to do with it.” Pansy watches Draco carefully so she can pinpoint the moment he realizes you might have a thing for Cedric.

“The girl obviously has no taste.” Is all Draco says before he starts picking at the food on his plate. Pansy smirks as Draco eyes land on your figure. Please, please, don’t let it be true.

Theodore Nott

Theodore was lying in his bed with a book over his head avoiding everyone, but unfortunately Pansy is unavoidable. When he heard the door he didn’t react, but did listen to every step the person took to figure out who it was. Theo sighed when he came to the conclusion it wasn’t one of his mates, so it really couldn’t be anyone else but Pansy.

”What do you want?” Theodore snares when Pansy stops next to his bed. “No, need to be mean. I brought you overly expensive coffee.”

Theodore calms down and removes the book from his face. “Thanks, I guess.” Pansy rolls her eyes but offers him the coffee. Theo takes a sip, while carefully watching Pansy sit down on his bed. “What do you want?”

”Nothing! Is that so hard to believe?” Theo nods and takes another sip. Pansy scans the fresh bruise on his face and purses her lips. “I heard about the fight.” “Of course you did, why else would you be bringing me expensive coffee.”

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s sweet that you’re defending (y/n). What that guy said was outrageous.” Theo stares down the paper cup he is holding. He really didn’t need all of Hogwarts to know he punched a guy for calling you pretentious and fuckable. Especially since you and him weren’t exactly friends. “It had nothing to do with (y/n). He wasn’t watching where he was going and his dumbass walked into me on a bad day.”

“Punching people for walking into you, wow, you’ve been hanging out too much with Riddle.” Pansy sighs pretending to buy into his cool act.

“Theo, my dude, I found all the ingredients for that potion you were talking about! That piece of shit will never say a bad thing about (y/n) again!” Enzo’s enthusiastic face drops when he spots Pansy. “Oh hey Pans.”

Pansy smiles at Enzo and turns her face to Theodore with a victorious smirk. “I knew it.” Theo’s annoyed eyes roll to a very apologetic looking Enzo.

Did you spot a mistake or typo? Let me know, you’ll be rewarded with a virtual smootch!

[mrdixon]

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 !

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 2

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Here to present this week's chapter art is @garbagemilkshake

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Hello, I have a quick message that I would like to add to today's chapter. I want to make note of something that happened in the past week. I received an uptick in messages asking about when the next chapter of Soft Spot would come out. While normally I try to make myself as accessible as possible, the way these comments/questions were framed were incredibly disrespectful. I will make my stance as clear as possible.

Do not go on my other works and mention updates of others.

Do not ask me repeatedly when an update will happen.

I strive to post weekly, but when I am bothered, these types of repetitive comments make me not want to indulge. I write at the speed at which I do because I like it, but the fact that that is somehow not good enough or that another of my works is supposedly is lesser to you because of it is a form of disrespect that I will not tolerate. I should not even have to say this because it violates common decency (which is comical considered that's a mention in this chapter). I understand you are excited about this new content, I am as well, but please understand that I am a human being. I will still be open for any and all questions, but do be mindful. Thank you for your understanding.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜

“You must clarify if that was instigation.” Donatello had a death grip on your bare knees.

You weren’t exactly sure when you had lost your pants, but it made sense they were gone. “Donnie.”

He squeezed you tighter.

You covered his hands with yours. “It’s starting to hurt…”

“It is the only thing keeping me sane. Answer.” He didn’t relent.

You dug a nail under one of his digits to alleviate some pressure. “I’m not against having sex again, but I mean it.”

“Truly?”

“Donnie!”

“Y/N!”

“Yes, I mean it! I want to have a kid with you! I’m not hitting up your breeding kink; I’m telling you I’m ready!!!”

He only gaped.

“Do you really not believe me…?”

He made a weary noise and you could feel through your bond that he wasn’t the least bit convinced.

“How many times do I need to say it?”

“More.” He begged.

“Help me clean up.”

He nodded and flew to grab tissues.

“I want to have kids with you.” You told him the moment he returned.

He helped wipe you clean.

“I want to have a kid with you.” You told him the moment you felt dry.

He helped you to your feet and you headed to the restroom.

You went, washed your hands, and cracked the door with the hand towel still in your grip. “Kids, me and you.”

You caught him flapping his hands excitedly as he disappeared around the partition.

“Let’s have kids!” You called out as you walked after and felt painfully aware of how you only had half your outfit on.

He thrust an arm out from behind the wall with your pants and underwear.

You took them and chuckled. “It’s so crazy you’re being shy because you’re going to be seeing quite a bit of me naked when you, you know, knock me up.”

You heard some part of him slam into the wall so hard you thought he might break through.

There wasn’t a crumbling sound so you put your bottoms back on. “Like with a baby.”

You heard his footsteps plod wayward and you finally gave proper chase.

You found him with his fists in the air where he appeared to be thanking your rooftop garden. “Baby.”

He turned in a blush.

“Baby, baby!” You ran at him.

He fled around the couch.

“Donatello!! My sweet and darling husband and mate…?” You sang for him.

He was nearing the dividing line between rooms and peaked at you between the fingers covering his face.

“Would you like to have a child with me?”

He nodded once.

“You sure?”

He nodded again.

“Sure, you’re sure?!”

“Yes!!!” He launched himself over the back of the couch and pulled you down with him into the cushions to snuggle.

“There you go, believe me now?” You teased as you wriggled to get comfortable.

“Ah!” He popped a waiting sound.

You stilled and looked up at him. “You don’t-?”

“Not that!” He scolded and righted you. “My preparations!”

“Donnie…?” You let him sit you on a cushion.

“You’re not staying there either.” He was up and moving towards his computer.

“Donatello, I need you to say you believe me.”

“It will come with a demonstration.” He said and tapped a screen to wake the system.

You listened to him tap in a flurry and got up to follow.

A dozen or so screens appeared and when you tried to look them over, he blocked you with his body.

You crossed your arms.

He grinned and then pulled his office chair out for you.

“Is this where I’m allowed to sit?”

“Yes. This is your preferred seat.”

You took it and he immediately spun you around so you could watch both him and the monitors. He then stepped back, appraised your distance and began to adjust. It came with about a dozen tiny tweaks to the chair’s position that were barely perceptible to you, but he eventually appeared with a self satisfied nod. “Comfortable?”

“Yes.” You shifted bored, but ready in the chair.

He took a step back, checked the monitors about as much as he had your seat before he flicked forward.

Screens projected off their spots and curled around him for a globe of information.

“My dearest. My heart. My love. My partner in this life and any others.”

You waited with a hopeless smile.

“I would love to have a child with you.”

You twitched wanting to meet him again.

He watched you with a similar gambit, but shook himself to stay in place. “What you see here is all my research associated with our childbearing.”

You tabled your excitement as best as you could and looked over the data.

He blinked and it began to scroll to show that it was even more than what was being displayed.

Your lips rounded in surprise.

“Years worth of calculations, studies, notes, and any other information necessary for our push to have progeny.”

You flicked your eyes over the screens one last time before you settled squarely on him. “How long?”

He quirked a brow.

“Have you been building this?”

“From the moment our intent at sexual relations arose.”

“Donnie! What?!”

“It starts with birth control!” He rebuffed your irritation. “To not have children means I needed a basic understanding of how we might in order to negate the possibility!”

You straightened a little as that was sound enough logic.

“I… didn’t examine otherwise until we expressed the possibility.” He looked a little embarrassed and moved a screen for the sake of it.

“Then you looked into how we could?”

“You expressed concerns that we might not be able to conceive. A reasonable worry. We also mentioned adoption.”

You nodded.

He followed suit and then sat back to look at his many years of computations.

“I’ve-”

He outright startled at the sound of your voice.

“Come here, the chair placement doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“It does!” He dragged out his whine but collapsed onto his knees in front of you regardless.

You pulled his head into your chest and cradled him.

The chair’s wheels slid, but Donnie held you in place.

“I love you.” You told him.

“I love you.” He replied.

You urged him to look at you before you carefully lifted his mask to place a kiss to his bare forehead.

He churred as you then put the fabric back in place.

“We don’t have to hurry. Presentation or not, let’s go through this however we want. Sound good?”

“Yes… No rush…” He spoke the words as if to convince himself.

You kissed his clothed head this time.

He churred louder and moved up to catch your lips once before wondering, “What were you about to say? Before.”

“I’ve…” You gave a little struggle. “It’s a little embarrassing, but I’ve never asked you how the birth control works...”

He lit up with excitement.

“Will you tell me?” You nurtured the prospect.

“I love you!” He yelled before flying to his feet. “My birth control!”

You watched as he sent some screens away and brought more forward.

“When I set out I was limited…” He addressed a specific hologram. “This one of my own volition, mind you.”

You tilted your head.

“I swore not to track you and while I didn’t swear to your secondary statement, you mentioned you did not want to hold my hand through the relationship. While the latter was difficult for both of us, I found duty in the first and saw to it not to manipulate that holding.”

Your brow came down to enhance the question on your face.

“I personally vowed to respect your privacy then, as an extension. In that moment.” He told you earnestly.

You hadn’t known that and your face warmed a bit.

He took you in with tenderness. “A choice made rash, but thankfully one that ended up falling in line with the accursed common decency.” 

You bobbed your head in both agreement and for him to carry on. 

You could hear his churr from where you were. “As such I was not aware of your body’s make-up, meaning I did not gather samples of your DNA or the like. After our first kiss, it felt as though a dam was broken and I got to necessary work. By our first date… It didn’t seem far-fetched to believe we might also partake in relations. I thought myself over-prepared until we saw one another.”

You remembered that night fondly.

“But that is moving too far forward. Planning began after our first kiss as a precaution. I tested local and Hidden City condom brands. I also dabbled in making my own until I found a suitable one for my member if that was what you so chose… We were meant to discuss such an option…”

“But you had already put yourself on the birth control.”

“Yes… I hoped your proclivities aligned with mine…”

“Breeding kink.”

He shot you a heated look. “I converted you.”

“I never said you didn’t.” You responded the same.

He chirped as an outlet and blew out necessary air. “Ahem. Again, I had no bodily data on you and I needed to prevent my sperm from fertilizing your eggs if they were to be introduced. Birth control typically functions the same amongst all forms: stop fertilization. This can be done in a number of ways from negating ovulation, release of an egg, to making the ureteral environment one not suitable to support pregnancy.”

You nodded.

“Altering your make-up was out of the question as it tampered with bodily will-”

“You wouldn’t slip me something without my knowledge.” You remembered.

He nodded appreciatively. “That meant I needed to stop my own gamete. How to stop a sperm and a mutant one at that?"

You nodded.

“It proved… difficult. As you surmised, I was additionally designed to breed. Be it leftover DNA structures or the fool Draxum’s concoction, species hinge on viable offspring and my fabrication made it especially so.”

“Obviously your sperm are mutated because you are, but what? They get their own superpower…?” You chuckled.

He didn’t not share the comedy. “Yes, actually.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah…” He sighed. “When tested they were especially resilient. Commercial and yokai brand spermicides were inefficient. The condom kept them contained, but they were tenacious. A typical condom, we’ll consider both human and non in this case, is 98% effective when used correctly… In my case that number bobbed around 83% because even a single one of my sperm, given the necessary liquidity and need I remind you most condoms are lubed, had the strength to search true for its host.”

You gave a frown.

He nodded with large eyes. “I looked into mystic concoctions then. So many side effects, so many impurities, none made even close to a facsimile of my unique chemistry!”

“So you made one.”

“I made one.” He agreed. “I dug into male contraceptive research and found one that disabled sperm. As that was my exact intention, I chose that particular medication and ran with it. There were hormonal and non-hormonal methods, but I needed complete assurance that my sperm would not inseminate you under any circumstances. That led me to my current concoction, the one I am still on, a shot that inhibits tail maturation in sperm.”

You blinked once. “Your sperm…”

“When examined under a microscope, have tails that do not provide motility.”

“So you’re not shooting blanks, you’re shooting… sperm that can’t move.”

“Exactly. If you’ve seen films regarding fertilization, you will note that it takes quite a bit of mobile effort for a sperm to breach an egg. With the necessary mobility, they sit useless until they perish.”

“Wow…”

“Yes, I had to hyper-escalate study and production to ensure it was viable in time for our meeting.”

“We barely set a few weeks for our date.”

“A dangerous prospect, but I had checked that morning before and found a sample was completely immobile and thus felt assured we would not have issue.”

“Donnie…”

“While I would still prefer that I never injured you during our first meeting, I must admit your recovery was advantageous as it gave me time to further refine the product for its necessary long term use.”

You nodded.

“While my personal study was rushed, the medication was undergoing the usual technical trials at my lab. We found it reversible given time as it will evacuate the system. It works by suppressing the necessary enzyme production. For the typical specimen, it took longer to go into effect and there was a lengthy duration for its dissipation, but again, completely safe and repeatable. For my dosage, I take a monthly shot that covers my needs…. Our needs.”

You smiled at him.

“Which… unfortunately leads me to my heat…” He grimaced.

You made a nervous noise and vaguely remembered something from a certain video.

“We had no idea what was going on. I had only summations. Barely a hypothesis. It was a scientific nightmare scenario.”

“You overdosed…”

He blinked wide at you.

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. showed me some security footage that first time. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I remember him being worried about side effects from some shot.”

Donnie looked at you with a sort of hopeless affection. “You are a delight.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“As much as it pained me, I had to go off conjecture which was that my sperm production would be increased. If that were the case, it reasoned that my body ramp up enzyme production. In studying mammalian heats, in which I have mammal DNA along with reptile, there was an exhausting list of side effects that could tamper with the medication: heat, hormones, and more. I had to cover them all while not being lucid, which I wasn’t, and therefore I created a hyper concentrated dosage of the birth control which had the threat of untested side effects…”

He stopped completely.

You watched your mate hang in the air.

“Donnie…” You whispered.

“There was… a chance that my enzyme production may not stabilize if I were to ever stop the medication.”

You straightened. “That…”

“Is not something I have been able to test as I continue to take the medication. There is a chance my sperm motility might not recover.”

You tented your hands over your mouth.

“A necessary risk. Your safety superseded all else. At the time of my first heat we had never yet discussed children. I wasn’t going to let an accident like that fall upon you due to my inane biology.”

You nodded, feeling a little weepy.

He broke from his presentation and came to you.

You hugged him as soon as you were able.

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head.

“I am. It was not something you had a say in.”

“None of it was. We didn’t know what was happening.” You squeezed him. “You made the best decision you could at the time.”

He gave one nod before he buried into you.

It bothered him more than he admitted.

How long had he been struggling with that knowledge?

It must have been a hanging bitterness against his dream.

He’d endured it all alone.

“I should have asked sooner.” You told him. “About the birth control and all this.”

“You trusted me. I meant to earn that. Plus, it is not known for sure.”

“But you worried.” You pulled back to see his watery eyes which he tried to hide. “You’ve been worried about it all this time.”

He gave the barest nod.

“You could have talked to me…” 

He wilted against you. “I prepared the presentation. It seemed a waste to bring up any sooner. Unnecessary discomfort that would have taken us several months to test. Between that and time to re-establish my medication, I would prefer to spend it making love to you and not concern myself with some unknowns.” 

You kissed his temple. “There’s a lot to plan and see. We had a feeling this wasn’t going to be so easy. We’re… you’re still… okay with adoption… if we need to?”

“Of course!” He spoke without hesitation. “It is the same in my mind. No less.”

You nodded and tapped the tip of your nose to his beak.

He gave a cutesy mating call for it.

You trilled one back.

“Let’s see…” He stayed close and looked back at his screens. “Where does that take us…? It will take approximately two months for the birth control to evacuate my system. We will know around then. It’s not exact. Then there’s your ovulation schedule if we were to try to conceive. What are your thoughts on giving birth?”

“That’s…” Your gaze shot away. “W-wasn’t this about your notes…?”

He didn’t pressure you in the slightest. “I’ve explored many possibilities. What I discuss next depends on what we’re considering…”

You snuck a glance at him.

He pet your leg in a soothing way.

You let him stroke the limb until you built up a bit of courage. “It’s… scary… In general and… and I don’t mean this is a bad way… but with a mutant… partner…”

Donnie nodded and dipped down to gently rest his chin against your leg.

You ran your hand over his head and whispered. “Can I pass a spiny carapace…?”

He looked up with a gaze that was both sympathetic and unsure.

“Pregnancy and childbirth… take everything from you. It ravages your body…”

He laid his hand out as a comforting weight.

“I know that’s what you’d prefer, but…”

“I prefer nothing. I prefer you.”

It was the perfect moment to interject.

“It’s a fear as old as time itself. It has gotten safer, but the dangers are still incalculable.”

You nodded.

“I only ask for the sake of direction. You do not need to decide now. I will not pressure you as there is no provocation.”

You thumbed over his cheek.

“Raising a child is no different than creating one in my mind. Whatever instinctual itch will be scratched.”

“You’re lying…” You whispered. “I know what you thought about a sonogram...”

He was similarly as caught as you had been and looked away.

“I don’t want to let you down.”

“You won’t.” He snapped back to attention. “Your concerns are founded. I am the concern. My mutant status…”

He made a little move and you released him.

He stood and summoned more screens.

He pointed to one in particular that had a set of chromosomes on it.

“The truth is… and this labeling is the best I have considering, but my DNA is elastic in nature, so to speak. From the many times I have examined myself, the closest labeling I have is that I suffer from a form of aneuploidy.” A few more chromosome maps popped up and had a different number of sets. “They can vary between cells. They have changed both with an increase and decrease throughout my lifetime. It is a wonder I am a stable organism.”

You took to your feet and came closer.

Donnie passed off his medical records.

You looked between them and the dates and saw they ranged throughout his lifetime. 

“Even if my sperm do recover, there is a likelihood that we are not compatible. That may come in the form of my inability to fertilize you to an inability of our cells forming a viable fetus.”

You pushed the screens away.

Donnie held a deeply saddened look.

It was yet another thing he’d held onto his whole life.

You hugged him.

He held you.

“I treated my ability to impregnate you as a grave concern, but the reality is I have always tempered my expectations. I never outright believed we were compatible in that way. I never believed it with anyone. I suppose that added to the taboo and enhanced the aforementioned kink. A space in which I can… have such a fantasy.”

You squeezed him as hard as you could.

He rubbed your back. “Mind, I also never expected to have a life partner or… make it this far in existence. My love, it’s alright.”

“But you got those things!” You lifted up and sent him a dewy gaze.

“And I will have more…” He smiled reassurance. “I… will admit… fine, adoption does not satisfy my instinct the same way as the thought of you round with my child…”

He took a little too long in his daydream and your lids fell, unamused, against your heartache.

“It’s not the same, but being at odds with my instinct is no new feature. Logically and emotionally I will be sated and I imagine my hindbrain will eventually make the necessary connections.”

You thumped your head against his plastron.

He swept his hands over you for a while.

You eventually gave in to a slight sway and he rocked with you.

“You need to check my DNA?”

“A blood sample ideally, yes. We could calculate compatibility.”

“Have you never checked with another human?”

“I’ve never run this analysis with anyone.”

You cuddled closer.

“Though… I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that genetics is a bit of an introductory topic. Meant non-demeaning as I am aware of the US educational system, but it is… as one might say, child’s play.”

“Bad pun.” You told his scutes.

He chuckled. “I don’t need to take your DNA to know our chances will be low. I would only need your genetic material to know exactly how low, but even that has a level of chance. Do you know of mules?”

“Donkeys?” You looked up at him.

He stared down a warm gaze. “Mules are a cross between horses and donkeys actually. The parent pair have differing chromosomes, but can produce offspring… only such creations are usually infertile.”

Your gaze widened with concerns.

If you had a kid with Donnie would they be sterile?

You knew this choice wasn’t going to be an easy one, but the amount of things to consider only seemed to grow.

“Usually. Not always. It can occur. Mitosis and meiosis. I can already tell you our chromosome numbers differ. Meiosis spits up our homologous chromosome pairs to create sperm and eggs which would meet for reproduction. They seek to match back up with their compliments, but ours leaves gaps which increases room for error. In mules, the lacking chromosomes from the donkey mean that all male mules are sterile, without question, but females can occasionally be fruitful due to the repeating chromosome formations.”

Your head spun a little.

“Without practice it’s hard to say. Those are separate species and they can produce offspring, but the next generation can’t. Lions and tigers are the same species, but also often create infertile offspring. I am part human and novel… We can go off what is known, but there will always be an element of unknown as a pairing such as ours has never occurred.”

“You mentioned mitosis…?”

“The process from fertilization on that creates a baby. The errors I mentioned would show up here in whether the pregnancy was viable.”

You made a little noise of vague understanding. “What about test tubes or clones…? It’s hard to believe yokai haven’t figured out some mystic cheat code too… You told me about womb tattoos.”

He almost sweat with guilt. “I may have indulged in a bit too much hyperbole…”

You hummed dry interest and waited.  

“Yes, womb tattoos have served to aid in fertility issues, but yokai constitute something that supersedes human rules of species. You have creatures who can naturally shift their form. If they chose to have offspring, which some do not, long life and all, little drive to reproduce, they have what I’ve been referring to as that elastic genetic material. It can match form to create those homologous pairs intrinsically. If the creatures are too different though, even mysticism has not superseded that. They’ll use surrogates if need be.”

You watched on.

“Clones and test tubes…” Donnie sighed and seemed obvious about trying to make the subject matter palatable. “I would still need other genetic material, I could not solely clone you or me. I could stimulate or even fertilize your eggs myself in a lab setting, but they would need to be gestated in a host. Artificial wombs are not something I can imagine we will crack in this lifetime. There is still too much we do not know. All that simulates the necessary environment in which a new organism can be created… The longest trials of gestation in an artificial setting have been about six weeks… or something similar? I theoretically could take that a few weeks further, but that would be asking me to break through an estimated hundred years or so of science on top of mixing our DNA? I… I fathom many unknowns. I’ve broken countless barriers, but that would be… our child! I would be the one directly responsible, using my own two hands, to make the fertilized cells. All that would go into their existence would lie on me! The mental toll of failure in that regard…!!” His closing throat cut him off.

You released his middle so you could tug down his neck in a tighter hug.

He dropped to his knees to give it. “Trial and error is a stage of science I usually relish in, but asking that while using our components…!”

“You don’t have to say it. I understand. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know…”

“You couldn’t have…” He rooted into you and you felt him let loose a few tears.

You kissed his head over and over.

He slowly, but surely pulled himself back from the possibility.

“Not that. Never that.”

You felt his apology through his ring and cut him off.

“No, Donnie.”

He begrudgingly relented.

You moved to scratch his shell, but his battle shell was in the way.

It nearly immediately withdrew from the spot and you dipped down his collar to grab the dormant plate.

Donnie opened up his posture enough for you to pull it out of his shirt, then you returned your nails above the fabric and scratched in the way he liked.

He slowly melted into you.

“We are not doing artificial gestation. Not at all. Where.. did that leave cloning?” 

“It is a similar impossibility to clone me. My unstable DNA. Finding a genetic match to mix with. Finding a host.” 

“You would only be able to clone me…” 

He squeezed you. “A child that is wholly not ours is one thing. I…” 

You felt anger bubble up in your ring. 

“The thought of another’s genetic material… applied in vitro… to yours…” He seethed. “I can’t stand it. I apologize. I refuse. The same with donor sperm. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

“No… It’s okay… I wasn’t really interested in pregnancy already… I don’t care about it being me… I wanted… If anything I wanted it to be you.” 

He couldn’t muster a churr, but a faint loving squeak emerged from him. 

You breathed in the air. “There’s… so much… Is trying to have a baby… even worth it?”

Donnie was quiet.

“We should make adoption our go to, shouldn’t we?”

He gave a bare nod.

You leaned your head against his.

He sat still for a long time.

Your thoughts morphed. You thought about what you’d imagined in the park earlier today. Your mind’s eye saw Donnie and his little green duplicate. From the way your husband talked, there would be no way to even know if the child would be his color. There seemed to be thousands if not millions of possibilities and the outcomes recombination was even more with his mutant status.

You closed off the line of thinking and thought about adoption. There was the state paperwork to complete. There were thousands of children up for adoption across the country at any moment. They needed families and parents who would love them. You could easily see yourself providing that. You saw everything from troubled infants to even teens who you could care for.

That was only considering the human side of things.

Though Donnie had talked down about the yokai birth rate, there still had to be young ones who needed help. Their ages were further skewed and you wondered how you could provide with a human lifespan. You supposed that would help Donnie as he was going to outlive you, but wasn’t that in and of itself a negative way to think of things?

You pulled yourself from the thought only to find a mental image of you plump. You were waddling wide and had to stop for a break in that same park you were in just a few hours ago. You were in discomfort and blew out an exhausted breath. Donnie appeared doting with water and tales of pregnancy books he had read. He had done all the obsessive planning he had for your wedding, but in a new extreme form.

He was going to be an amazing dad.

How selfish were you?

There were children who needed help and you dared to imagine having a child of your own?

You cuddled closer to your mate.

Why would you cling to the scariest possibility?

Not only were you not sure you wanted to go through with it, there was a high likelihood that you couldn’t.

You were incredibly selfish.

An angered part of you also screamed.

You’d given up before starting.

You hadn’t even tried.

Hadn’t the odds always been against you and Donnie?

It was a miracle the two of you dated let alone married. 

You were happy on top of that. 

You’d endured endless trials.

You had never given up in the face of uncertainty. 

All you cared about was being with Donnie.

You’d done that.

You were here.

You were all better for it.

You pulled away from him.

He looked after you and searched your face for whatever it presented.

No one ever called you a saint.

You were just a person.

You pulled your hands from Donnie’s carapace.

He continued to examine you.

Donnie was the same.

Morality was subjective.

Lifetimes were about choice.

You’d chosen Donnie.

You would make more choices.

“I want you to do that blood test.”

His expression opened up to the possibility.

“Let’s try. There’s time. It’ll take some to get the results. It’ll take more for you to get off the birth control. There’s adoption wait times. All of it. We can take each thing as it comes and see what works best for us.”

“You’re… sure?”

“Are you?”

“I’m sure of anything that relates to you.”

You pinched his cheek. “This won’t be just me.”

“Part of you, whether in paperwork or DNA, is still you.”

You soothed the skin you pricked.

He smiled. “I’m sure.”

💜 NEXT 💜

Beta baby babes? The triple B's? @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[ongicloud]

I wanted to go on a bit of a ramble about Misa so like

I've been seeing this sentiment recently about people expressing frustration over people ignoring Misa's wrongdoings and painting her as an innocent angel who never did any wrong. And you are all correct to point out the fact that yes, she very much DID do things wrong. The sentiment that she is pure and innocent is very much factually incorrect. She DID stalk Light and coerce her into dating him. She killed people. I just wanted to throw in my two cents on her real quick.

BUT I also want to point out that I kind of see people's love for her as almost a rebellion against the early days of the fandom. As a shonen series, a lot of the content and discussions around it were being had by anime dudebros. To add on, we KNOW how bad Ohba is about writing women. How many sexist undertones there are in all of his work. He himself has admitted with no shame that he cannot write women. (Which as a professional author should make you feel shame tbh but I digress)

When I was first getting into the fandom, Misa was pretty widely disliked as a character. The people that did like her were very much sexualizing her. The sentiment was that she was a dumb blonde bimbo unworthy amongst the genius of Light and L. There was SO much bashing of her. That came from fans that weren't the typical dudebro as well. This was peak shaming girly "shallow" girls era. The not like other girls era. I think this definitely played a role in at least some fans, now that the fandom is more chill, latching onto her as she was definitely treated pretty badly and people wanted to avenge her. Or people wised up more and thought more critically about her as a character. I think over time, that protectiveness over her, along with the somewhat humorous nature of it, morphed into the "uwu she did nothing wrong" narrative.

Additionally, I kinda have some thoughts on her as a character. I am not excusing her bad actions, maybe moreso rambling about my understanding of them.

She witnessed her family being murdered. This is stated to have happened a year before the series starts, so she was like? 16? 17? Understandably a very traumatic experience. She had to see the killer being allowed to walk free, her word, her testimony, not mattering. The man who took everything from her was allowed to walk with no repercussion while she had to live with that trauma. When Kira (aka Light) killed that man, avenged her family, it is understandable that she would form this odd parasocial relationship with him. She was mentally unstable enough to start with, griefstruck and seeing Kira as the one who helped her gain some faith in the world again.

To add onto that, she was also stalked by an obsessed fan, who after being rejected, was going to kill her. She was only saved by the sacrifice of Gelus, thus gaining the death note herself.

I see her as not an innocent angel who did nothing wrong, but as a deeply damaged young woman who had no agency in the world before this. Being hurt by multiple men, living in Japanese society which we know isn't very supportive of women in general. She finally gained some power, a way to protect herself in this world. And she saw the person, who helped her at her darkest, unbeknownst to himself, as her saviour.

Yes, she was absolutely not in the right for starting to kill people, yes she was absolutely wrong for stalking Light and forcing him to date her. I just wanted to ramble about her a little bit and give my silly little thoughts on her. I love her as a character, I can see WHY she is why she is. And it is absolutely okay to dislike her for those things! It is absolutely okay to criticize her actions because they are not okay. And yes I also believe her character missed a lot of the depth some of the other characters had simply because she was written by a misogynistic author. When I say she deserves better, I mean that she deserved MUCH better writing. But also Light is NOT innocent in their relationship either. I hope we can all still agree on that.

[cher-rei]

afterglow– pt 9 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, fluff, should definitely add the slowburn tag

[w.c: 6.6k] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12]

notes: buckle up, because this one is one hell of a ride

"does this christmas tree look weird?"

clara looked up at you from the shopping cart, her nose scrunched at the fact that you were standing next to the tree in all sorts of positions— your excuse being that it needed to match your aesthetic as well as your new apartment's.

yes, the time for the big move has finally arrived 2 weeks before christmas. all your boxes had been moved over through the course of you packing them, and today was the day that you and clara got to work.

"I think you look weird," she shot back, earning a fake laugh that made her smile but you took her advice and carried on looking until you opted for the original.

the two of you continued to roam around ikea like two lost puppies while vlogging the entire experience for your youtube channel. truth be told, it was the most relaxing experience that you'd both had in weeks.

not only was the move taking up more time than you'd originally thought, but the number of press conferences, sponsor shoots, and preparation for the team's channel content was burying you alive. you weren't complaining obviously because this was your job.

but sleep had become a foreign concept once more.

"jamie, we have an interview with virgil set up for wednesday, we need you on that."

"are all the reporters in the press conference room? make sure that harvey doesn't say anything too bad this time around please. we can't have a repeat of last time."

"are the graphics for sunday's match ready?"

"ms carter we're set to film in the next 20 minutes, are you miced up?"

"jamie!" you were snapped back by clara yelling your name, loud enough that a few heads turned to look your way. you perked up with a hum and she nudged you on with a skeptical look.

she continued to push the shopping cart, with you walking beside her. "sorry my mind is flooding with--"

"--thoughts of a certain someone?" she eagerly interjected but you were quick to shut her down with a disapproving look.

you shook your head. "work clara. I'm thinking about work."

your friend wasn't too pleased with your answer though and brushed it off with a sceptical hum but you didn't bother to try and defend yourself. there was no reason to anyway, you'd be fighting an invisible war.

your little ikea trip came to an end after another hour, and you were left with 3 shopping carts and the question of how you were going to fit all this in your car. you both stared blankly at all the shopping bags on the floor, not a thought behind your eyes.

"why don't we just come back for the bags later?"

clara turned to look at you, a hiccup in her voice as she agreed with you until it hit her. "wait are we allowed to do that? what if they steal our things?"

the normal thing to do in this situation would be to call for help, perhaps your dad for some extra support but nope. not here and not when you two were together. all basic logic flew out the window the second you stepped anywhere near clara, and today was no different.

with your hands rested on your hips you had a minute to think before snapping your fingers. "we'll just label the bags and give them to the cashier duh."

this was going to be a long day.

spamjam._. added to their story

trentarnold66 replied to your story

trentarnold66 are we moving already??

spamjam._. we?? 😀

trentarnold66 you know what I mean, don't even.

spamjam._. 😭😭 yes I'll be in by today. why? were you hoping for a house warming party?

trentarnold66 oh definitely not. I'm sure your 3 friends wouldn't pitch anyway

I'm just upset that I don't have your address anymore. no more surprise visits ig 😓

spamjam._. I'm flattered that you think I have 3 friends 🤭 and yes I will be locking my door to stop those surprise visits

trentarnold66 it's okay. I'll just ask clara because she's super nice

spamjam._. I will end your bloodline bro don't you dareee

speak of the devil, she's calling me to come and help her. you're a distraction!! I have unpacking to do😭😭

trentarnold66 don't blame me for your problems and get back to packing

spamjam._. ??? jump [liked by trentarnold66]

"oh my god I think we're done."

you huffed out in exhaustion at clara's question, stood in the living room after you had just fluffed up the last of your throw pillows.

you didn't know how to answer, not knowing if that really was all the decoration done because there might just be one more box hiding somewhere, but your doubt quickly vanished into relief. you nodded slightly in your friend's direction with a smile of disbelief.

you swear that tears had formed in her eyes, and you felt the same. utterly exhausted and relieved. "we're done!!"

clara didn't waste a second and pulled you into an excited embrace that had you jumping up and down and squealing until you flopped down onto the sofa to finally take in the finished product of your first official apartment.

just the feeling of being in a place that you could call your own made your stomach jump. the interior design, the aesthetic— it was all so you. it was cosy and didn't feel the slightest bit empty, the walls littered with artwork, empty spaces decorated with plants, and your furniture being the cherry on top.

it felt like home.

after a few minutes of resting, you checked the time to see that it was well past midnight and even though it was friday, both you and clara had to head into the office the following day for a quick meeting and finalisation for sunday's match against manchester united.

by the time that you were all done showering and getting your things in order, you huddled yourself next to clara on the sofa in front of the t.v. the second you put off the big lights for your lamps, an indescribable feeling settled on your chest an--

"do it," clara said suddenly, drawing your attention away from the t.v.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, not knowing what she was talking about. your friend sighed heavily and muttered something under her breath before leaning over and grabbing hold of your phone.

she waved it in front of your face with a lopsided smile. "shoot. your. shot "

"excuse me? who am I shooting exactly?"

your answer didn't amuse her by the looks of it but you didn't worry because you were genuinely confused.

clara leant in a bit closer, "don't play dumb with me. I know what you are. I saw those messages."

it took a moment for you to finally grasp what she was saying and an elongated "ohhhh" left your lips. she mimicked your answer teasingly and shoved your phone back into your palm with a knowing look.

you tried your best to explain that those messaged were just simple fun and jokes but clara insisted that it was way more than that.

"are you reading these texts jamie?? he's flirting with you!!"

you paused to look her up and down for a moment. "are you mental?" you deadpanned.

clara looked as if she was about to blow a fuse, muttering something to herself while you sat with your lips slightly parted in confusion. funny enough this wasn't this first time that she was acting this strange, it had been every few days for the past two weeks.

you didn't understand why it was such a big issue. you and trent were getting slightly closer sure, but clara was pushing it. have you told her about your almost non-existent feelings for him? of course, she was your closest friend.

but something was off with her. even at work when you'd be around them during training or busy with the p.r filming, clara would nudge you into his direction. something was up, and you needed it out.

"clara," you started firmly. "what do you know?"

something flashed on her face for a split second and she averted her gaze to the t.v. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just saying that--"

she truly was a horrible liar.

"you're doing a horrible job at covering this up, don't just sit there and act confused." your eyebrows narrowed at her silence, a meak look on her eyes. "out with it then."

she sighed and ran a hand through her hair in frustration, you could even see a tint of red at the tips of her ears. clara was stubborn, and you were growing impatient.

she looked at you for a moment before relaxing her shoulders. "life isn't some fairy tale you know?"

what the hell is this girl talking about?

"like--" she looked up at the ceiling in thought. "--we can't expect the universe to sense our romantic feelings and magically play things in our favour."

you blinked at her a few times. "bro what the hell are you saying??"

faster than you could register, clara grabbed you by the shoulders with a look of determination in your eyes. "I'm saying make a move because no one is going to make it for you! this isn't some feet kicking, giggly rom com!"

clara's words were like a slap to the face, leaving you just as stunned. you didn't know how to respond to her, only being able to part your lips with no words falling from them.

your cellphone that was in her hand was now pressed tighly against your chest, with clara looking at you with gentle encouragement even though her words were far from it.

"okay, friends to lovers I guess." she raised her eyebrows slightly. "so about how you work on the lovers part instead of taking three steps back whenever you take one forward, you fucking coward!"

christmas had passed and it was a week into the new year. what better way to start the new year than to play arsenal in the fa cup third round? the year started off well at least, with the 4-2 win against newcastle.

you were fully settled into your new apartment, as well as your sister in london. the only thing bugging you, was clara being the equivalent of a mosquito— or a better yet, a parasite that kept reminding you of "the deal".

the deal being you asking trent on one friendly date and she'll leave you alone, and never mention anything remotely close to your love life again. you said yes as a way to get her out of your hair, but instead the exact opposite happened.

so you were planning on swallowing whatever pride you had and ask him to come over to your apartment just to chill. okay, that's definitely not what you were going to say, because that just sounded pathetic and extremely embarrassing.

just the thought alone, made you cringe.

the team arrived at the emirates stadium at 4 p.m that sarurday afternoon. the weather was a bit warmer than it had been the past few weeks, and you were quite excited for the match to be honest. you had a hunch today, or maybe you were just hungry.

you followed the camera crew out to the pitch and helped them set up before doing the necessary media procedure (making your promotional tiktoks). the first hour for setting up was always fun for you, it was quieter but to be left alone on the pitch was always something.

at some point, you even tried to teach clara how to do some warm-up drills. it would have her clapping her hands in excitement and saying, "I remember that from training."

the two of you messed around with the camera crew for a bit and documented your first trip to the emirates stadium. it was insane to think that you'd only had this job for 4 months, the most eventful yet peaceful months ever to be honest.

"why does their grass look greener than ours?" clara asked in distaste as she looked down at the ground, tapping her foot lightly.

you joined her and averted your gaze to the "greener" grass and shook your head. "It's not." you waved your hands in the air. "the air is different here or something, so it seems greener."

clara hummed in agreement, tapping her finger to her temple. "mind games. london is crazy dude."

you laughed at her comment, until the realisation began to seep in ever so slowly. "london." you muttered under your breath and put your hands on your head, causing clara to grow concerned. "shit, we're in london."

your friend gave you a look that screamed, "well no duh", but you were in fight or flight mode, saying that you needed to leave immediately which was so stupid.

"I can't be here. wait, no I'm just being dramatic. but what if I'm not?? what if I'm not being dramatic clara???"

she was dumbfounded at your sudden mood shift and nonsensical rambling, and was about to try and get any sort of coherent information but you were interrupted by a staff member calling your name since the dressing room was ready for a few more clips.

you didn't spare clara another glance and tried your best to calm yourself down as you entered the dressing room, debating with yourself on whether or not you were going insane. it took a bit but you managed to collect your thoughts and rethink the situation.

I'm just being dramatic.

you took one last breath and turned to the door, only to be met with a very confused harvey and cody. the two just stared a you for a moment, and you weren't quite sure why since it was normal for you to be in the dressing room before a game.

"I told you," harvey shook his head and looked at cody. "she's straight up talking to herself right now."

"I was what?" you asked quickly with widened eyes and cody was the one to answer this time.

"you were chanting 'I'm not being dramatic' over and over." there wasn't a hint of uncertainty in his tone which made you feel slightly embarrassed, only for mo to walk from behind them and ask what the hold up was since they were standing in the doorway.

harvey took a few cautious steps towards you. "jamie's either a witch or mentally ill." he mocked a gasp with his hand in front of his mouth. "or maybe she's a mentally ill witch."

you lunged towards him in retaliation but he managed to slither his way through the rest of the boys who were still coming in, their looks of confusion not going unnoticed. he played it safe and hid behind ibou , who preferred not to play mediator and gave him a slap on the back of his head, causing him to yell out in pain.

he tsked at the younger boy. "and you wonder why she has it out for you"

just as you put your phone back into your pocket, a light knock echoed through the now-filled room. in the doorway, stood clara who was there to fetch you for the last staff debrief. you gave harvey one last look up and down before bidding your goodbye to the rest of the team.

you joined clara as she strolled through the corridors, no haste in her step at all for some reason. she didn't say much either which worried you, so you took the initiative to ask her what was up but she didn't answer.

instead, her eyes perked up and you turned to look at what caught her attention, only to see trent walking in with his headphones on and his attention glued to his phone. the desperate look you gave clara didn't suffice, and the two of you ended up having a small whispered argument.

you shook your head vigorously as she gestured to trent who was still walking in your direction to get to the dressing room. all you had to do was walk past him without drawing attention to yourself, and you promised clara that you'd ask him after the match but she was stubborn and insisted on it happening that very moment.

"jamie I'm sorry, I love you I promise."

before you could object, she shoved you a little harsher than expected and instead of lightly nudging trent on the side like she thought you would, you ended up bumping into him in a full collision.

luckily nothing fell out of his hands, seeing as he was too startled and perhaps clara thought that he would catch you by the waist just in time— but this wasn't some fairytale! instead, he held onto his belongings tighter and watched in shock as you hit the wall, shoulder first.

"are you okay?" trent lowered his headphones and turned his attention to you. you couldn't even bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you had to suck it up despite the amount of pain you were in.

you muffled a painful hum in response and waved his concern off. "yeah, sorry I was just--" you turned to look at where clara previously was but she was gone. "--that bitch," you muttered through a gritted smile, thinking of the ways that you were going to make her life hell later on.

"excuse me?" trent asked, not sure if you were talking to him which caused the red on your face to deepen.

"nothing," you laughed awkwardly and stood up properly, your arms folded over your chest. "I just wanted to say hi... I guess."

he accounted for the uncertainty in your answer but didn't bring it up, only feining a lopsided smile. "well that was quite the entrance, super dramatic."

you faked a laugh at his joke and blinked a few times. "yeah, you know me and being dramatic. you can't have one without the other." your tongue poked the side of your cheek at the irony of your answer.

a moment of silence enveloped the two of you again as the awkward encounter came to an end because trent needed to get to the dressing room. you moved to the side and let him past, internally battling with yourself for wasting the opportunity but you called him back before he was too far off.

trent looked down at you, the shimmer in his eyes having you frozen in spot for a moment. "I wanted to know if you were..." you had no idea how you were supposed to ask him at all, you didn't think that practice was needed.

"like tomorrow since we have the day off, would you..."

this was pathetic. you were pathetic, fumbling over your words for something this stupid. it was so unlike you to be this nervous, which made it even more awkward.

trent gave you another moment before his lips tugged up into a smile. "yes I would."

you swallowed the lump in your throat. "you don't even know what I was going to say."

he simply shrugged his shoulders. "whatever you want, I'm down for. and as much as I'd love to continue this little back and forth, I really need to go. but I'll see you later okay?"

you nodded. all you could do was nod as you watched him walk away with the same amused smile on his lips when all you wanted to do was bury yourself alive. never again, this was never going to happen again. you wouldn't allow it.

you ran your fingers through your hair in an attempt to cool down your rising temperature. you were blushing for no reason at all. with your back against the wall, you took a few deep breaths only to feel a nudge on your shoulder. you didn't bother opening your eyes, because if you did then all hell would break loose.

you could hear clara smiling from beside you as she leant in and whispered teasingly. "he's down for whatever you want," she giggled. "what do you want jamie?"

"I want you dead."

it was about 10 minutes before kick-off and both teams were on the pitch for their warm-ups, while the supporters settled in their seats and so far, everything was running as per normal.

you were doing your regular rounds with your camera around your neck, as well as your phone in hand to get some videos of the boys for extra content. you even got the opportunity to talk to a few of the arsenal players as well.

they were all extremely nice, asking about how you were finding your job so far and whatnot. it was a sweet interaction that you didn't expect from them, especially since this was a crucial match.

"you must be getting so cold right now," ali chuckled as he took a spot beside you on the pitch, leaning over to look at the pictures you were going through on the camera.

you scoffed. "being cold is a mindset, I'm perfectly fine right now."

your answer prompted a laugh from the older man who wasn't the slightest bit convinced. "I can see your goosebumps."

"you're delusional."

finally it was time for kick off, and you took your respective seat next to clara with the rest of the staff and huddled into your hoodie with your hands in your pocket. for the first 10 minutes of the first half, you couldn't help but feel that you were being watched.

normally you'd brush the feeling off, but today it felt different. so eventually you took the liberty of turning around and scouting the crowd to see if you could notice anyone, and just as you were about to give up someone in the crowd caught your eye.

your stomach dropped to the floor with a single moment of eye contact. it felt as if the world around you had stopped, the only thing catching your eye being the boy looking over your shoulder.

he looked no different than when you last saw him, just a bit more mature. as usual, he was sporting his arsenal jersey and scarf— the same jersey and scarf that you scolded him for wearing around you. the look in his eyes was unreadable, but his expression must've been just as shocked as yours.

you shifted your gaze to the person cuddled to his side, and to no surprise, there stood your ex-best friend. in the flesh, just as you started to move on the universe decided to give you the biggest reminder of your departure from london.

michael and kelly— your ex-boyfriend and your ex-best friend.

you couldn't break eye contact no matter how hard you tried and clara who wanted to comment on something about the match was victim to your daze. with her eyebrows furrowed she followed your gaze, her jaw dropping instantly.

something crept up your spine, and unfamiliar feeling that you couldn't shake off while trying to focus on the match in front of you.

"I wish I was a mentally ill witch right now."

[idyllic-affections]

dad!pantalone iii (ft. the harbingers).

summary. the harbingers all have their own choice nicknames for pantalone's child.

trigger & content warnings. dottore clones being... dottore clones. you know? yeah.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. dad!pantalone & reader, la signora & reader, acaramouche & reader, il dottore & reader, arlecchino & reader, columbina & reader, childe & reader, pulcinella & reader. 0.7k words. they/them pronouns for reader. prev | next

author's thoughts. i wrote this series quite some time ago but i think about it all the time. it was honestly so fun to write LMAO i miss it sometimes.....

the harbingers rarely seem to call pantalone's child by their name. they all have their own nicknames for the little one. let's see what they are, shall we?

starting off with the man himself, pantalone has a collection of nicknames he uses to refer to his kid, from something as simple and tender as 'little one' or 'my dove' to the more embarrassing 'my gem.' the latter becomes one of those nicknames that begins to embarrass his child as they get older, especially in their preteen years (by the time they're 15, 16, 17... they've gotten used to it). he finds it funny, the way they fluster and stutter and complain about that nickname being very embarrassing when he uses it in public. he's almost pouty when the time comes that they don't find it embarrassing anymore. he also takes fondly to a simple 'darling' or 'love.'

la signora's nicknames are a little more... extravagant, for lack of a better word. after they burned the balladeer's coat, she took to calling them 'my little flame.' all of her nicknames are oddly fire related. she has little shame calling them such things in public, and she likes to think her nicknames function as something of a warning sign; after all, they do have the capacity to be destructive. everyone should be aware that they are no easy target, she thinks. there are some, however, that she tends to only use when there are fewer people around, such as 'firefly.' additionally, she seems to call them 'dearest' rather often. it's the most "normal" of her nicknames.

scaramouche calls them 'pyromaniac,' and does so very bitterly, might i add. end of story. he will never forget what they did despite the fact that they were a child with poor pyro control when they did it.

il dottore, in his omega build... well, nothing he calls them is even remotely affectionate. 'brat,' 'menace,' the list goes on. he could fill an entire book with the mean nicknames he uses on them. they find it quite funny, actually. he can't physically or psychologically hurt them, so he resorts to shitty nicknames? pathetic. this, however, tends to vary between segments. some—keyword: some—of both the younger and older segments are actually quite fond of them, and use 'mon petit monstre' on them... is that a term of endearment or are they being harassed?? they have no clue. they speak the common tongue of fontaine, so they know what it means, and yet... they really can't tell if it comes from a place of fondness or not. zeta, more commonly known as webttore, will not hesitate to call them a bitch but if anyone else does it, he might end up adding another heinous crime to his already extensive list.

arlecchino, the woman who raised them until about the age of five, tends to simply call them by their name, unlike most of the harbingers. sometimes, though, she'll call them 'honey' or 'my dear' in a very gentle, tender tone. now, if any fatui agent catches her doing this... it won't end well. she's soft only for them and columbina but she doesn't need people knowing about that. she has a reputation, after all. the knave isn't all that kind, no, but she did grow fond of them, and she still holds a small grudge against the regrator for leaving them with her for so long.

columbina, oh, her nicknames are easily the sweetest—'angel,' 'sweetheart,' 'lovely,' it goes on. she and dottore are on opposite ends of the nickname scale. every pet name she calls them is laced with only the utmost saccharine sweetness. contrary to popular belief, it comes from a place of genuine fondness.

childe's nicknames are a little different. they're all friendly and perhaps a bit too casual, given the fact that [name] could ruin his life very easily. 'kiddo,' 'bud,' 'kid,' archons... its almost as if childe forgets that they aren't too much like other children their age. what other snezhnayan child their age is the most lucrative target in all of teyvat, yet simultaneously the most untouchable?... perhaps it's simply because he sees another sibling in them. who knows?

pulcinella's nicknames are the typical "old man talking to his grandchild" nicknames—namely 'dear' and 'young one.'

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[writtenontheport]

Just a Night at Portland Row

(pt.1) (pt.2)

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: Literal romcom, These people are silly, Everyone’s so sillycore here, teary confessions, someone accidentally confesses, nothing dramatic happens he’s just silly, Childhood friends to lovers, Lockwood is kinda stupid (affectionate), no smut or suggestive content, Lockwood and co and reader friendship, whether or not what Lockwood says at the end actually happens is up to you!!

Notes: I have quite a few issues with this one, and I’m not entirely satisfied with it, but I think it’s one of the better ways I could go about it. I also put all the flowers meanings at the bottom, so if you were curious I did in fact plan the flower meanings (I am a nerd). This finale has gone through about 20 revisions on the first day alone, so if anything seems jarringly out of place, I am so sorry 😭 I was all over the place with my ideas.

Summary: Just before supper time, you and Lockwood have a heart to heart, and it starts as it always has: with flowers, with tears, and a little funny thing called love.

word count: 2.4k+

“George,” Lockwood says seriously. It’s the first time George has ever seen him so serious about something that isn’t Lucy or him dying and it shocks him how quick he is to steel himself for whatever it is. “I need you to get Lucy to bring them down here, if you can, please.”

Now, ‘them’ is obviously referring to you, who’s laughing away upstairs with Lucy so loud they can hear it ring through the vents. If this wasn’t something George has genuinely been excited for, he would have smacked Lockwood upside the head for using that terrifying tone. “Don’t say it like that, prick. Thought someone was dying there.”

Lockwood grins at him from where he’s messing with the bouquet stood up on the table. The paper wrapping hasn’t been removed, courtesy of the empty vase and that water would most likely melt it; ribbon still intact. They stand, not quite fully in bloom (which is the best way to buy flowers, because otherwise they wilt right away) but just on the precipice of it. It’s packed with other, smaller additions, but at the heart of it, well. Maybe Lockwood did know something about the language of flowers.

“How’d you even pick them out?” George asks instead, watching Lockwood’s grin wobble.

“I made friends with the shopkeeper. He wouldn’t tell me what any of them meant, but he said they were good flowers— like the carnations. One of them though… these white ones here, just felt familiar somehow.” He kept messing about with the bouquet, meddling with any loose leaf or bud. “Can you please go get them? I want them to be able to see the flowers before they wilt.”

George does swat Lockwood for that, but he goes upstairs to get you. You and Lucy have moved to her room on George’s urging (he made Lockwood wait outside before coming in to make sure you didn’t know) and were lying in her bed on your stomachs, reading and sharing books. Lucy’s the first to look up at him, raising a brow as she nudges you.

“George? Everything ok?” You ask, propping yourself up to sit criss cross on the mattress. “Has Anthony come back yet?”

“He has,” he says simply, “He says he needs you in the kitchen. Lucy should stay since she must be tired from the case yesterday.”

From behind you, Lucy has a moment of realization that has her tucking her lips to hide a smile. Quietly, she puts a hand up to her forehead in a salute to George.

“You should go check,” she says, “Who knows what kind of trouble he might be in.”

“A lot of trouble,” George adds, nodding slightly along. You narrow your eyes in suspicion, but you get up off the bed.

“I’ll save your place!” She calls just as you’re headed down. George walks 2 steps behind you to hide his expression before he can school it, feeling giddy with nerves that aren’t even his to have. He wonders how Lockwood’s doing, stopping just at his bedroom door.

You turn back, asking “You aren’t coming?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He rocks gently on his feet and pulls his hands behind his back, reassuring you with a calm nod. “Off you go, Lockwood’s probably burnt himself making tea by now or something.”

“I’d hope not…” you mumble, each step down like a crescendo in the world’s most suspenseful piece of music— every floorboard creak like the lead instrument and your heartbeat acting a steady base. On a sheet you’re sure it looks hideous, but it levels out when you open the door and Lockwood’s waiting there by the counter, looking like he’s straight off a magazine. The silence creeps in, but the piece rises to new heights as the sound of everything— the floorboards, the vents— suddenly dulls out.

You step into the kitchen, and let the door shut behind you.

There is your Anthony, standing there in the middle of the kitchen with a bouquet full of dazzling pink tulips, red roses, and spots of white jasmine flowers. There is Anthony, the boy you’ve known and loved for years— looking at you like he always does: like you’re the whole world and sky and everything he wakes up for.

Neither of you speak for a good minute, but it’s not without trying. Lockwood spends that pregnant pause fumbling for words, before—

“I love you,” He says.

The words come rushing out his lips, hurried and desperate. It shocks you how simply he puts it, like a sudden rest in the notes that takes you by surprise. He looks surprised too; horrified, really, that he’s just blurted that out. He swallows thickly, steeling his expression into something determined.

“I—“ you pause, the words caught in your throat, blood pounding in your ears. You think you tear up, but you can’t really tell when the whole world narrows down to Anthony Lockwood across from you in the kitchen of Portland Row, professing his love in the spur of the moment. You grow warm with affection, taking a step closer to him as the music of your singing heart drowns out everything but his words.

He takes a deep breath, his face pale with fear as he swallows and says quietly,, “Today, when I went down to the shops to get you these flowers, I met the really old man tending to them. Don’t look at me like that, he was really old, alright?”

“Anthony,” you scold quietly, tutting at him as you wrap your hands around his.

He bites the inside of his cheek before he keeps going. “Anyways he isn’t the point— I brought him up because he made me realise that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I never gave telling you a shot. He lived loving someone else until they died— even after they did, and if… if there was a chance I could have that with you, I wanted to take it. I can’t promise you that I’ll be alive for as long as you will be, but I can promise you that I will love you for everyday I live and breathe if you let me.”

“Anthony,” you start, breathlessly. You take his face in your hands and he puts the bouquet down to cover your hands with his. He looks so scared like this, fragile like glass in your hands and pale with nerves.

“I can’t promise you forever,” He says solemnly, “But I can promise you my heart for as long as it beats.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, and will yourself not to kiss him. Years down to minutes— minutes to seconds. The silence hangs like a winding note. You glance back quickly at the bouquet, picking out one of the jasmine flowers before sliding it behind his ear and resting your hands on his face.

“Do you remember the first flower I gave you?” You ask just as quietly. He shakes his head, cheeks rubbing against the skin of your palms. “We were… quite young at the time, and I must have been mad, because I stole it from the neighbour’s garden. Yes, the grumpy one, you remember her. Well, I ran straight over from all the way from home with this crumpled little thing in hand— stop giggling. I’m telling you an important story— and you lit up like a light. Cheeky little thing you were, finding a way to give it back to me when I got scolded the same day for stealing and I was awful sore about the whole thing.”

“You looked all sad,” He cut in, voice hoarse in a mumble, “It made me happy, so I wanted it to make you happy too.”

You laugh, just as breathless, “And it worked, Anthony. It’s still one of my favourite flowers. Did you know that? They were the first flowers I read up on when I learned flowers could have meanings.”

“What’d you find?” He asks, the nerves fading into a hopefulness that fills his eyes with stars. It’s helplessly endearing where you see them shine, nearly nose to nose with how close you’re holding him.

You hum and close your eyes, pushing your forehead against his. “We gave each other white jasmine flowers, that day. A lot of people say they mean purity or innocence, but the one that stuck out to me was that people say it meant “everlasting love” too. When I look back on it now, it must’ve been fate.”

“Cause I always loved you and you probably realised that with how stupid I get about you?”He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

You chuckle quietly, just as helplessly lost, “Not quite. I didn’t even think there was a chance you could love me back, though that does make everything a bit easier… because I’ve always loved you, Anthony.”

Like a child on Christmas day, Lockwood’s eyes grow wide; he’s helpless to the grin that splits his face. “Really?”

“I’m no liar, Anthony, and certainly not about this,” you laugh, unable to help yourself as you tip back and rest your nose lightly against his.

“No like— you mean it?” He asks, voice cracking with hope as he searches your face, “You love me? You love me?”

You’re helplessly endeared, helplessly in love and helplessly lost to it, so you just whisper back with a grin as wide, “Yes, Anthony. I love you.”

What little space between you both is gone in a second when he pushes his lips against yours. It’s a desperate thing, all relief and comfort and love pouring out. At some point, you’re both smiling too wide and too much for it to be anything more than just pushing your lips against each other’s and you pull away with a wet laugh.

He grins wider, and you didn’t think it was possible but he manages it. “I’m so glad, because if I had to go back to the shopkeeper with a terrible story about how I got rejected by the love of my life—“

You giggle and swat at his arm, wrapping your arms around him, “Of course that’s what you worry about. This is all a publicity stunt, yeah? To boost your ego.”

“Of course,” he says, with no weight to the words as he sniffs and blinks away the last of his tears, “Though that just means we should make it a bigger stunt and get married. I’ll even invite Kipps just to rub it in his face.”

You hum, helplessly amused, when the door slams open and George shamelessly walks in with at first his usual deadpan, then a pleased expression. From behind George, Lucy is brimming with happiness, smiling cheek to cheek.

“Gross,” George says, simply and without malice. He steps around you and Lockwood, patting you both on the back sincerely and pulling out pots and pans. It occurs to you a little late that he’s starting on supper. “Took you both a while to actually confess. Mental, the two of you.”

“It was cute,” Lucy says kindly, taking you from Lockwood (he does pout lightly, but she just sticks her tongue out at him) hugging you dear. “George just means that we’re both very happy you two finally got together. He was starting to go bald actually from pulling his hair out too much, look at his hairline—“

“You can’t even pretend like you weren’t too, Lucy.” George sends her a glare as she separates from you. Lockwood quickly fills the space at your side again and all but wraps himself around you. Lucy pats him on the back with a congratulatory smile.

“You can’t go bald before my wedding, George, that’d just ruin it,” you say, clicking your tongue as you reach over (not without struggling over Lockwood) and pat his curls into place. The pot nearly slips out of his hands while Lucy’s eyes grow big as saucers.

“Wedding?!?” They ask simultaneously. Lockwood giggles into your neck, the cheeky bastard.

“This one here,” you gesture at Lockwood with a look, “said we should get married since this whole thing is a publicity stunt or whatnot. Said he might even invite that Kipps bloke he hates.”

“That is the lamest proposal I have ever heard,” Lucy immediately cuts in, the most disappointed scowl pointed at Lockwood’s head.

“I’ve got to agree. You could absolutely do better than that, Lockwood. Also, Quill Kipps? Do you want to have start a fight at your wedding?” George asks, his back turned to everyone. You pull away from Lockwood to pick up the flowers, but not without him frowning as you do. He stops frowning as soon as you smile at him, though, before he turns his attention to Lucy and George when they both pretend to gag.

“I gave them flowers, a really sentimental bunch I think, then I had a good speech,” He says to Lucy first, who raises a brow at him.

He turns to George next. “I need to rub it in his face that he’s probably miserable and forever alone.”

“I thought it was gonna be a publicity stunt, not a revenge plot,” You mutter, clicking your tongue.

“I’m not letting you have a lame wedding, Lockwood, because that means they—“ she points to you “— will have a lame wedding and I will not let that happen.”

“But you’d let me have a lame wedding if it was just mine?” His face is scrunched in offence as he ‘discreetly’ wraps himself around you again.

“Yes,” Lucy and George say simultaneously.

“I’d marry you at a lame wedding.” You play with his hair where you can reach it, pressing a kiss to his forehead where he’s dumped it again on your shoulder. Lucy and George gag, Lockwood beams so bright you’d think he won the lottery that night.

They manage to convince you that it’s too dark out to leave (it was past curfew, the sun had set already) so you spend the night recounting everything you can with them until the stars had gone to sleep and the sun started rising.

The next day, he brings down the bouquet of carnations you’d first given him, and you mix both the bouquets into one. A year later, Portland Row becomes home to not only to the people living in it, but a garden full of flowers blooming with love, laughter, and a lot of hard work. White Jasmine flowers bloom on the veranda and a house of three becomes home to four.

A/N: Finally finished this series!! Whew, that was… hmm!! And just because I couldn’t add it to the story without it getting clunky, have these idk, headcanons? fun facts?:

Reader tells Lockwood all about the flowers after, and informs him about why the Jasmine flowers were so familiar

The grumpy neighbour reader stole the white jasmine flowers from was actually the old man gardener’s wife

Lockwood goes back to tell the old man, and they have a laugh about the whole thing

It is so hard to get one straight meaning for a flower, but if you dig enough you can find flowers that mean so many cute things:

Red carnations mean deep love and affection

Pink tulips mean caring and affection

White Jasmine flowers can mean many things but for this story I went with: Eternal love, persevering love, and new beginnings

Everyone knows red roses, but I also like to think Lockwood’s bouquet had thornless red roses because they mean love at first sight

Yes he one upped the reader even without knowing what all the flowers mean because he’s a competitive little freak (affectionate) and I love him

This series has been very dear to me, and I am especially thankful to @tangledinlove <3 Thank you for your kind reblogs, I hope you know I read them and always look forward to seeing how you find each part in the series even if I don’t respond to them <33333

Also @milesmorals asked me to tag her too!!

[veronicasvices]

I hate horror movies that are just gorey for the sake of being gorey.

Like oOooh you're so dark and edgy, cool, but there is no meaning to your violence. It doesn't add depth to the plot (if the movie even bothered to establish a coherent one to begin with, which is rare in a lot of horror movies) it doesn't convey any sort of message and sometimes it doesn't even make sense for it to be there in terms of character motivation. Heck, sometimes the gore isn't even fun. Like, if you did it in a fun way I'd like it for shits and giggles (which is the case of Saw, for example) but most of the time the gore is just there for the sake of shock factor, and, ironically, despite the fact that this kind of content is considered "adult" it just comes off as extremely childish.

On a similar note, I also hate it when a movie's idea of "horror" is just cheap jumpscares. Horror in movies should be slow, claustrophobic, and all consuming, not a FNAF jumpscare (Keep in mind that I'm talking about movies here, I actually kinda like jumpscares in horror games lol)

Those two combined are the opposite of my bread and butter, they're my cardboard and broken glass.

Anyway, fuck "in your face" horror movies. Thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[anistarrose]

Hello, TOH fandom, I am here once again to talk about accessibility!

[Image description: a screenshot of Lilith Clawthorne excitedly holding up a sign, which has been edited to read: "Image Descriptions for The Owl House (and why they matter)" in all caps. End description.]

Image descriptions, like the one I just used above, are exactly what it says on the tin: descriptions of the content of an image included to make the image maximally accessible.

Blind and low-vision people who use screen readers, people who rely on increased font size in-app or in-browser to read text, and neurodivergent people who have trouble interpreting elements of an image (for example, expression) all benefit from image descriptions.

And all images on the internet should be accessible regardless of topic, of course, but I've recently been trying to spread awareness in the context of The Owl House specifically because it's a show with multiple disabled and/or neurodivergent characters! In fact, Principal Bump is canonically low-vision with a service animal to help him in that regard — and I'd argue that making content about disabled characters accessible is extra, extra important!

[Image description: a screenshot of Principal Bump with his palisman Frewin removed from his head, revealing the scars over Bump's eyes. Frewin is in staff form, smiling, and Eda looks on from the side. End description.]

I know it's within this fandom's ability to make our posts about the finale as accessible as possible — and I know that because I've already seen a decent increase in described posts over the course of Season 3! I've seen more artist-described posts especially, which means a lot to me, and even more to a lot of other people, too <3

So, on that note, how to write an image description? It may seem intimidating, especially if describing someone else's post or fanart, but honestly, there's no definitive "rubric" to follow, just a list of general guidelines:

Indicate where the description starts and ends, with "end description" or "end ID".

Place the description immediately under the image, not under a read-more (this allows people who rely on IDs to experience the post the same way anyone else would, whereas read-mores are inconvenient, especially if OP changes their URL)

Minimize caps lock, italics, bold, and strikethrough, which can be hard to read and/or troublesome for screen readers. Generally, it's just best to transcribe in lowercase without particular effects, then indicate in the transcription if something is emphasized.

Likewise, don't put descriptions in Tumblr's special small text. It's difficult to read and inaccessible to many.

Don't make jokes or add commentary in IDs. If an image is meant to be humorous, obviously it's fine to phrase things in a way that tries to capture that, but it's not the place to add your own jokes, nor is it the place to declare subjective qualities like "this art is beautiful".

Descriptions can vary in length, but if one is getting long (if you're describing a comic, for example), then be sure to break it up with paragraph breaks.

Specifically, while I've heard that too many breaks (ie, every sentence) are annoying for some screen readers, long walls of text are conversely difficult for people with visual processing problems to parse. So, it's good to strike a balance.

With regards to length and amount of detail, it varies by personal preference! Most images don't need a whole small essay, but there's also value in describing certain small and symbolic details, subjective as it is.

Speaking of which, if you're the original artist, then you are automatically the expert on what you wanted the image to convey — the nuances of expression and body language, which details are important and which details are not — and for that reason, I love seeing artist-described works!

Below the cut: more on describing Owl House images specifically, on IDs versus alt text, and other possible questions!

When I transcribe TOH related posts, there's a few other guidelines I use, though these rules aren't as immediately important as the ones above. I generally start by indicating the type of image we're dealing with (a screenshot? fanart? a photo of a cosplay?), then mention what characters are depicted.

Unless I'm describing something long, like a comic, and relying on summarization, I usually mention which character designs we're dealing with (is Lilith in her dramatic black dress from Season 1? or is she in her low-battery shirt?). If it's fanart and the artist has come up with original outfits to put the characters in, I'll summarize those too.

(This is the other reason I love seeing artist-described works: because I, personally, am just kinda bad at describing fashion lol.)

Now, I'd like to go over some other questions that I've either encountered before, or anticipate:

What about alt text? Doesn't that accomplish the same purpose as image descriptions?

In a lot of senses, yes, so alt text is certainly much, much better than no description! However, remember that not every person relying on descriptions is necessarily someone who uses a screen reader every day, or uses a screen reader period. Some people do in fact read the descriptions themselves.

[Image description, identical to alt text: a screenshot of Luz Noceda from Season 2, smiling and blushing. End description.]

As you can see above, alt text takes an extra click (or tap) to access. In general, it's also prone to displaying walls of text, and — as far as I know — sometimes just doesn't show up if the Tumblr app isn't updated enough. (Not to mention that, in my opinion, making image descriptions visible to people who don't use them is an important part of spreading accessibility awareness in the first place!)

On the other hand, I've heard some people who benefit from descriptions say they actually prefer alt text, so I'm not going to come out and take a hard "absolutely no alt text ever under any circumstances" stance by any means. But, long story short, this is the reason that in my own posts, I almost always defer to in-post descriptions — the only exception might be if I'm writing a meta post, and functionally describing the images in the text anyway.

I've seen that sometimes you use [ ] brackets and sometimes you don't. Is there a reason?

Basically personal preference. I use brackets in posts like this when I have a lot of non-description writing, and want to make it extra clear where the description ends and the non-description begins. If I'm just captioning some fanart in a reblog and not adding any commentary, on the other hand, I leave off brackets because they're pretty redundant.

I'm nervous about describing images, but I still want to help make the fandom more accessible. Is there anything I can do?

Well, my first piece of advice would be to start small! Hell, start with just making sure you include a description whenever you post an image with just text, like a screenshot of a reply or someone's prev tags. You can build up little-by-little from there!

(My personal accessibility journey went from describing only tweet screenshots whose text I could just copy, to describing simple memes like cat pics, to deciding it was important to at least describe fanart of disabled characters like Eda, to finally describing almost every post I reblog. Trying to make that jump without any of the intermediate steps would've been overwhelming, but at this point, it all feels natural to me.)

But secondly, I would encourage showing some love to artists who describe their pieces! Queue up some described fanart, especially artist-described stuff, and help normalize it!

Get into the habit of checking the notes for descriptions (go to reblogs and filter by comments only) before you share! If someone describes your art, copy it into the original post, so the version of the thread reblogged directly from you will be accessible too! (And if you want to make some little tweaks, no one will be offended.)

You can also look into making your blog theme accessible, such as making sure the font size is large enough (and ideally sans serif, for readability). And if you feel more confident with describing audio, then writing transcripts of audio is always incredible as well, to help out those who are deaf, hard of hearing, or have auditory processing disorders!

I've heard that AI is able to describe images for screen readers pretty well these days. Are descriptions still important/going to remain important as the technology advances?

Well, let me say first that I'm very glad this technology exists, for sure! But I'm of the opinion that human described (and especially artist described) captions are, at least generally speaking, still going to be the gold standard for the foreseeable future — AI doesn't have the context we do for our art and our fandoms; it's much less likely than a fan of the show to pick up on what's an important or symbolic detail.

Are there actually people who need image descriptions in cartoon fandoms? I mean, the source material has such a visual component!

First off, blind and low vision people do in fact watch things like TV, movies, and plays — ever notice the "audio description" option to add narration to a given show in a streaming service? That's there to provide basically the real-time equivalent of image descriptions.

And, second, I'll leave you with this — don't you think a lot more disabled people would participate in fandom if fandom were more accessible and accommodating to disabled people in the first place?

[fan-goddess]

For your kinktober requests, I just think that Ettore + breeding… 🙂

Authors note: I see exactly what you mean! Though I’ve gone more canon Ettore with this as a test, and I sort of am satisfied? I kinda went less breeding than I wanted cause I went with reader POV rather than Ettore who trust me is a lot more vocal in his head than in person. Still, I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: P in v sex, breeding kink, SA content, very dubious consent, dirty talk, tread lightly with this big warning bellow (if I miss anything important you think I should add let me know)

Taglist: @arcielee, @sylasthegrim, @sofiyathecunt , @marvelgirl123, @blue-serendipity, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @mochi-rose, @omgbrcat,

THIS IS A DARKER FIC THAN THE ONES I USUALLY WRITE, SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION BEFORE YOU READ

The ship was lonely as hell, but that fact was nothing you hadn’t already figured out before.

Relationships were strictly forbidden, by the orders of Dr Dibs. The woman said it was due to the fact it’s interfere too much with her research. Although, it also could’ve easily been due to the fact she’s just a psychotic cunt who wants everyone to be as miserable as she is. Anyone with eyes could see that she herself was making eyes at one of the men named Monte. Yet no matter how many times he seemed to deter himself away from her, the bitch never seemed to take away the idea of no as an option.

Though it seemed Dibs wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand the whole no relationships of any kind business.

There was also Ettore.

Ettore, whatever his last name was, was to put it simply, a perverted creep. His eyes would rake over your body everytime you entered the same room as him, and he’d always have this smug smirk as his face whenever you caught him.

What was worse however than hating it, was actually thinking about his smug face in the box whenever you got the urge to. Thinking about him smirking in the skin of your neck as you bounced on his cock, made your skin flush in embarrassment and your mind reel in lust.

You were content though. Living in the sweet ignorant bliss of your thoughts practically everyday. Until one afternoon, that bubble of ignorant bliss was popped by none other than Ettore himself.

It was an unknown day as you were leaving the box. The outside was always dark. For all you knew you could’ve been awake at 2AM and going to bed at midday. Yet still, you already knew you’d never forget this day, no matter the darkness.

“Going somewhere?” The sudden noise made you jump in shock as you grip you chest in fear. Yet when you turn around to accuse whoever scared you, the words die on your tongue as you made eye contact with those same predatory eyes you recognised all too well. Ettore.

“Just, just to the games room.” You stutter. It’s not a complete lie. You needed something to distract you from the horrors of a life you’ve lead yourself to live. Who knows… maybe a beaten up rubix cube could fix that need…

“Hm…” You hate how your body somehow has a physically reaction to that noise. The heated flush you can feel in your cheeks makes you feel almost coy for the first ever since you were forced on the hell like ship.

“Well, that doesn’t sound right. Though what’s good for me, as I think you’re lying right now…” His voice feels like it’s dripping with venom, and his eyes hold the same glint predators have when they successfully manage to trap their prey.

You try to move past him, to get to the ladder to escape this version of hell. Yet as soon as you get close enough to him, his hands grab at the skin of your arm and push you to the steel walls of the room, his face so close to yours that you could practically feel his warm breath on your face.

“What the-“

“You were moaning my name in the box princess…” As he said this, the single hand that he wasn’t using to subdue you was being used to practically fondle your body firmly and without regret. When he gets to the swell of your breasts, a sharp hiss is released when his fingers roughly tug on your chest through your thin shirt. “Needy cocktease…” He groans as he gropes you.

“Please stop…” You whisper, your heart racing like a fish caught in a corner by a shark.

“No. I don’t think I will. Needy cockteases always want it in the end…” He doesn’t stop to ask if you want this as he pulls down your trousers and pants in one rough tug, and when you try to turn your head away and get some leverage to run, a hand of his rough grabs at the skin of your throat and squeezes carelessly in a warning manner.

He doesn’t seem to care when you begin to gasp and cough from the lack of air. If anything, it seems to make the bulge that pokes into the skin of your leg harder.

“I’m going to fuck you now. And when I cum, I’m going to do it deep inside of you so it takes root. And when that fucking bitch of a doctor looks at you, it’ll be too late for her to stop it. When I’m done with you, you’re going to be fucking dripping of me, and you’re going to take it like a good whore.”

His words make the hair on your neck crawl from a mixture of horror, disgust, and self-loathing at the fact a part of you is enjoying this treatment. It’s that same part of you can’t stop yourself from nodding in agreement at his words.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him when he brings down his own loose shorts, nor can you bring yourself to give him the satisfaction of a reaction when he thrusts himself inside of you.

Yet even so, a sharp hiss you can’t stop yourself from releasing is let out into the skin of his neck when he practically begins to fuck you.

His murmurs are illegible, and yet still they somehow sound so loud. You don’t even have to actually listen to know what he’s saying. His words from earlier and his body language says it all.

His hands focus no more on subduing you, to your relief, now that you’ve practically gone limp in his arms. Instead, they grip so hard on your hips you already know they’ll leave visible bruises no later than tomorrow morning.

No preparation was really needed given the fact you were fucking yourself on a fake cock not even half an hour ago. Yet even still, it’s a strange sort of thrill you feel when you realise your body accepts him. That even though your brain is screaming at you to tell him to stop his assault, your body is clinging tighter with a degree of roughness you never knew you had.

“Ettore please” You have no idea what it is your begging for at this point. Your brains too far gone to tell if this has become a cry for help or a cry for more. Either way, Ettore listens with a selective ear.

His cock slams inside of you harder, and the grip he has on your hips somehow tightens as his hand manoeuvres to press at your lower stomach, where you can practically feel his cock hitting your sweet spot with a wanton cry.

You can feel the fiery hot feeling of pleasure trickling down your spine, and when you try to tell Ettore you’re close, all you the noise you can make is a pathetic whine.

“Aw… is my little whore drunk on my cock already? Are you gonna cum is that it? Is that why you’re mewling on my cock like a kitten? Well good for you kitten, cause the feeling of your tight cunt is gonna make me cum. And I know exactly where I’m gonna do it… stuff all of it in you till your dripping.”

Your brain finally kicks in as you beg for him to stop. To give you mercy. But all he replies with is a devilish smirk and a sharp slap to your confined tits as you cry out.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do…” He says with a dark glare.

When you cum on his cock, a strangled noise you didn’t even realise came from you is released for all to hear. Yet it’s released time and time again as Ettore continues to use you for his pleasure.

Your whimpers louden as your nerves practically catch alight with pleasure. Your whole body feels as though it is on fire as it burns with overstimulation, and yet when it is quenched by another orgasm, you almost wish for it to be let alight again.

With a groan though, you can feel Ettores body stiffen as he cums inside of you, and his hand pushing almost painfully on your womb. As if to try and feel where his seed fills you to the brim.

When he eventually releases your body from his hold though, the exhaustion hits you suddenly, and you slump against the wall to not fall to the floor.

You watch Ettore in silence as he puts his softening cock back inside of his shorts, before barely looking at your still half naked body.

“I’ll see you soon. Can’t let you go unfilled for too long…” He smirks, before walking and climbing up the ladder, leaving you all alone.

You continue to stand there in silence, and a shudder of a breath you didn’t realise you were holding escapes you as his spent leaks from your cunt down your thighs.

You place one of your hands where he held you so intently, and you find you can still feel the warmth of your where his touch lingered on your skin.

Maybe that is what it’ll be like now with your new found relationship with Ettore? A constant state of burning…

[coconox]

"little" silly and biased theory i think that noctis, like vera, wanted gr skk to be cerberus' skk

in rozen's secrets she has thought so much about wanting our skk to be cerbys skk she straight up came up w a method of hypothetically transferring them to cerberus

i think it also kinda lines up w the fact that vera doesnt really trust murray as much as she does w skk. now ofc it could just be the whole "everyone loves mc" trope, but it was stated somewhere in main story abt how vera still doesnt really trust murray due to him being so secretive and leaving many ppl in the dark abt his intentions, plus vera always ran into dead ends when trying to dig up any sort of secrets in regards to murray (i kinda think this is sort of a protective measure vera went through to ensure nothing bad would happen to noctis or 21 if murray became cerberus' skk, but thats more of a hc and i have no evidence to back that up lol)

while yes cerberus does listen to murray, it doesnt always mean theyll 100% trust him like they do w skk. i think the fact that murray is also a remote skk leaves some sort of emotional disconnect btwn him and cerberus. whereas w our skk, who is always on field, has a bit more connection (both physically and emotionally lol 💀) w cerberus purely from just being able to fight alongside them and being the go-to skk for m.i.n.d. connection if anything goes south

another small thing i'd also like to add is the fact that skk was the only one able to give buddy nicknames shows how much 21 grew to trust skk, considering in most of ex05 21 refused to acknowledge/cooperate w skk unless vera tells her to

there was also chaos unsnarled, where 21 was practically unphased from skk m.i.n.d. linking w her out of nowhere, compared to ex05 where she kinda hated the fact that they had to connect to her at the beginning.

now back to noctis, back in chapter 10 (we are now in chapter 24 as of the making of this post) noctis brings up skk in a convo w bianca

this is very much a huge stretch, but his remark on "but now that commandant is leading a team of... trash" seems a bit of a /hj to me. while yeah its a jab at how cerberus likes to poke fun at gray raven, it also feels like hes saying it w a bit of envy? his earlier remark abt how skk treats him (i.e. most likely in a kind/friendly way) is smth he wishes he could have, noting how cold and ruthless a lot of purifying force members tend to be. should also be noted how he stated our skk and not his skk, again reinforcing the small disconnect cerberus has w their actual skk i mentioned earlier.

timeskip to ex05, where cerberus works alongside our skk. to them it would almost feel like a trial run for if skk was in cerby rather than gr.

again, i could very much be exaggerating his excitement and dissect the "of course, i'm very friendly" line using his dorm lines as further evidence, but i'll leave out as much spoilers abt noctis' er story+general content released in sands of wrath as possible for this post. for the first bit of interaction btwn skk and noctis, he appeared to be VERY responsive to a lot of skk's remarks, essentially not containing his excitement of meeting AND working directly w skk. theres also the fact that despite vera pulling a /j w the whole "humor skk while im not talking" comment, again, it feels more like a /hj moment. i do think vera wants noctis and 21 to open up to/get along w skk as well, considering skk is like a breath of fresh air in terms of how the majority of ppl react to cerberus' presence/treat cerberus in general.

from vera wanting to kidnap skk, to 21 considering skk as more than her companion, to nocti considering skk as his partner, i think the lack of mentioning murray while praising skk speaks volumes over which skk they prefer/genuinely want. now again, this could be a whole "everyone loves mc" trope w the added bonus of murray only being mentioned if lee is around/the subject in question, but this is just a silly game theory,, ok mayyybe hc territory, idk im bored and impatiently waiting for sands of wrath HGJDKFGHK

also this was totally an excuse to further build on my skk oc lore LOL /hj

[shadowdoodles]

Hello everyone!

Coffe here reporting to you for the first time in a while.

First of all how are you? I hope you are well and that you are taking care of yourselves and drinking water. Hydration is important! I know it's been a while since I've talked to you guys so I just want to know how you're doing before I get to the important part of the post^^

Once that's done let's get to the matter at hand.

I'm sure more than one of you will know about the Shelby situation, and the first thing I want to say is that I fully support her. She is a strong and brave woman who decided to speak out and reveal an abuser, she deserves all our love and affection right now, I know it's scary to talk about your abusers and how much they hurt you that's why I'm with her and this situation I always will be.

Although it should be noted that I had never liked Shelby before and this situation made me know her content and I recommend her to you, she is very sweet and watching her streams makes you have a good and relaxed time. So you can also support her and send her lots of love.

Now let's talk about CC!Wilbur...he is an asshole who should pay for what he did and let's pray to whatever deity that there are no more victims in this situation.

If there are I hope they are safe and well and that they are now with a partner who respects and loves them how they deserve.

But let's talk about C!Wilbur in my stories, I personally will continue to use him. I can separate the character from the CC pretty well and Ao3 doesn't give W money or support so I personally don't mind writing about him. I may not write fics centered around him but he will still be a part of my writing and art.

He will have some changes though, so this character will be more mine, more ours than CC!W's.

This guy, the C!Wilbur I will write from now on will be mine. Not CC!W's, I will add and subtract things to his character that you may or may not think fit him. What I can tell you he will keep is his taste in music and his sweater, because I love music and I love sweaters.

C!Wilbur will obviously have his Lore base or part of the Dsmp Lore but other than that he will be mine or ours. Actually if someone decides to use this version of C!Wilbur once he have his design and character ready I wouldn't mind.

In fact you have my permission to use him, since C!Wilbur doesn't belong to CC!W he belongs to us and we need to give a little life to the character and a little more shine.

So even though I will still call my C!Wilbur, well, Wilbur... his name will be Wilder which means hunter and Wilbur will be his nickname, because I like the name actually.

So with that I bid you farewell and wish you a good day/night! I hope you are all well and are handling this situation as calmly and peacefully as possible.

[watsername]

ok lets get into the creator league stuff (local essay andy is back)

I mean first and foremost what Is the creator league

its an esports tournament ran by eFuse and presented by Mr Beast. its designed as this kind of interactive league allowing fans to play with and for their favourite creators. their trailers on instagram claim that theres gonna be a full years worth of content, however Mr Beasts recent video claims the event will happen across a 10 month time frame.

so the ting that makes this event 'special' is that the creators are not listed as players in the event but as 'team managers'- which is where the creator pass comes in. Each creator has a 'pass' that allows you as a fan and viewer to join their team and participate in the league events. Each pass costs around $20 and from what ive read I believe you can only sign up to participate on behalf of one player.

obviously for reasons of fairness, not everyone who buys a pass will be able to officially compete- there is a limited number of spaces on each team and the places are won via an open qualifier Fortnite tournament where they will also be competing for a $50 k prize- although im yet to find any comment from creator league or any articles on how this money is split. But don't worry even if you don't qualify youre still entitled to a free box of mr beasts chocolate should you buy a pass before September 9th. yey.

so what's the problem with this.

I mean first of all. creators arent even required to play. they can fully just let their team do all the work in every event which might work for people like Vinnie Hacker I guess. This might be a way to try and 'even the playing field' by not giving creators with gaming backgrounds any advantage, however it makes the marketing of 'playing with your favourite creator' a little meh. also as a viewer, id be more interested in watching an event that my creator was an active participant in than just watching my streamer watch other people play on their behalf.

the other huge thing that everyone is really waiting to hear about in this post is the nft situation. so recently the narrator of the creator league announcement video, brycent, conformed that the passes are nfts to be minted on the blockchain operating system Near Protocol. so obviously people are extremely concerned about this discovered involvement in NFTs and crypto currency.

so I went to investigate the website to see what its looks like when you purchase a creator pass and unsurprisingly there is no mention on nfts anywhere. The passes are sold on mynt.gg , which according to their faqs is a 'first of its kind marketplace looking to evaluate esports through community' just have a look actually

so no mention of the passes actually being nft purchase here's . if we go to the check out as well this is what we see for the descriptors

so . people who are purchasing this have no way of actually knowing they are purchasing an nft. you also need an account to add a pass to your basket and im not willing to make an account so im unaware if at any time during the payment process people are made aware of what they are purchasing. its listed and discussed more like a membership than anything, and in a way it is there are benefits to it, however with no information as to what people are actually buying its extremely sketchy and a literally misleading purchase perhaps a scam even . since the fact that they've just purchased an not isn't listed anywhere on mynt.gg prior to purchase. and after going through a few more articles .

so theyre definitely trying to hide it from you. as mentioned you need an account to purchase anything. and you only get to know what youre purchasing if you go through the TOC, which most people don't read lets be real.

it's worth noting as well creator league is the only collection available on mynt.gg at the minute, it seems like this entire business was started FOR creator league.

after reading through the faqs again I want to correct myself and say that yes you can buy more than one pass, but only for one creator. so this seems to me like a pay to win scheme.

im not going to go super in depth into this bit bc its a topic that has already been discussed in detail but obviously a lot of people are not happy with the inclusion of nfts because of their environmental impact, the secrecy and dedication to hiding this fact that the company is involving crypto in the event itself is a little weird if u ask me. oh yeah theres been reports on twitter too that they have been blocking and deleting replies to their posts that accuse them on using crypto.

so theyre lying to you as the viewer about what they are and what youre purchasing. but it seems like theyre lying to the creators too.

again. crypto and nfts is not mentioned anywhere at all. not in the trailer, not on the website not in any announcements . only discovered when people were paying for passes bc they wanted to support their fave creators.

recently one of the listed creators Connor CDawgVA released a twitter statement conforming that he was completely blindsided by the fact that there was cryptocurrency involved in the event- if u haven't seen his tweet here

so this raises the question were creators told about their involvement with Near, or was it written using jargon that people unfamiliar with crypto would not pick up on.

CEO of TAMU Esports Dylan Liu also weighed in on the creator league misleading their creators as well here's his statements too

this isn't everything Dylan has had to say hes done a lot of discussions with people on blockchains and of the event itself as someone who has known about the event for a while, id recommend checking out his twitter if you have time he goes into depth about how much funding theyre getting from near and way more issues with creator league than I have time to explore rn .

but it really does seem that the Creator League and eFuse have gone out of their way to try and hide the fact that they are using cryptocurrency from everyone possible. This is a marketing scheme to try and trick people into buying into their market- and if you google Near Protocol right now you see that they are declining so they actively need more people to buy into their schemes.

investors are leaving Near right now. Theyre tricking people into buying into their organisation. At least thats my understanding of it im not hugely knowledgeable about crypto.

I have a headache lets just wrap this up

this is super sketchy . as of right now CDawgVA is the only creator to have withdrawn from the event, but I hope a lot of creators follow suit. its unknown to us the details of their contracts but from what we know of the event they have done everything to hide the genuine content of creator pass purchases from the viewers- making a lot of people rightfully angry that the event is trying to pull the wool over fans eyes. hiding tweets and refusing to acknowledge their involvement in crypto programmes to the point where its unclear if people like Mr Beast and any of the participating creators are aware of it is super suspicious activity. Especially with how vague their promotions have been on the event, very little information has been available on their instagram and I think it was yesterday that we actually got some kind of timeline of the event. its supposed to start like next week and so many people are still so unsure of what is actually happening in the event or what prizes theyre actually getting if they participate. there has been no redeeming quality in the way that this event has been conceived and executed and I really do hope to see that the event is cancelled or that creators start to speak out against the way that the event is being run and support the fans who feel cheated and blindsided by the organisers . I will say I do not believe any of the creators willingly involved themselves in a cryptocurrency scheme, it's all just too sketchy . and no I did not proofread this nor can I be bothered to .

[endingboyhansel]

Welcome back to this whole analysis business. Today we’re talking about Alan Partridge and his repressed bisexuality. He’s definitely an interesting character to talk about when it comes to his attitudes with anyone queer!

I’ve probably missed out other stuff, or gotten things wrong, so if that’s the case, feel free to add on or correct me!

It is no surprise to anyone that has seen the Alan Partridge franchise that Alan in his early days is a bigot. He occasionally followed remarks with “and please don’t write in saying that is [discrimination], it’s not” and has a general very dislikable attitude towards those that are minorities. Later on in the franchise he does adopt a much more polite attitude, though keeps quite a bit of stereotypes when discussing minority groups.

His attitude towards queer people, however, is very interesting. Alan describes himself as a “homoskeptic” - thinly veiling homophobia - and acts negatively towards Glen Ponder when he finds out he’s gay. Alan has also shown transphobia, such as dismissing a trans woman on KMKYWAP - though in more recent shows he seems to have become more relaxed.

However despite this open attitude, Alan has a lot of telling facts about him that hint towards the fact he is heavily repressed in his own sexuality.

Let’s talk first about his attitude to trans people. In the I'm Alan Partridge episode Watership Alan, it is revealed Alan watched a short bit of a porno film titled “Bangkok Chickboys” to which he denies to the staff of the hotel. As the conversation goes on, it becomes more and more obvious that Alan watched this on purpose.

Now it’s important to understand the meaning of “chickboy”. Chickboy in this refers to the term kathoey. In English it has two meanings - trans women or effeminate gay men. In Thailand, the term can also mean being intersex.

Another thing of note is that the term is also named “ladyboy” and this is how they are referred to throughout the series. It is made very clear that the meaning of “ladyboy” to Alan is trans women. Alan seems to express some sexual interest, if the above example and his fascination suffice.

—

One of the biggest mysteries of I'm Alan Partridge is what is in the drawer of Alan’s desk.

Episode 1: Lynn: For example, in this drawer… (opens the drawer and pauses, shocked) You, er… you have, er, things, and um… sometimes, you have too many things. (Later in the conversation) Alan: They were there when I moved in.

While Armando Iannucci says that the contents of Alan’s drawer are of magazines of fat women on the toilet (in Dutch) this doesn’t really seem to make sense given Alan’s disgust of “water sports”.

Steve Coogan, Alan’s actor, says in contrast in the commentary for the show that the contents of the drawer is a plastic cock.

However it should be important to know that it was never decided what was really in the drawer. Honestly it’s completely up to interpretation of the viewer, though it very much leans towards something that implies Alan’s repressed sexuality.

Throughout season 1 of IAP, Alan has daydreams where he is acting as a stripper for someone important, most of the time Tony Hayers. Alan seems perfectly willing to let himself act this way in these daydreams, despite the fact that in the real world he has a clear hatred for these people.

Episode 1: Daydream Alan: Would you like me to lap dance for you? Daydream Hayers: (offers money) Daydream Alan: Nuh-uh. I want a second series.

Alan seems to also have some kind of celebrity crush on Roger Moore. He notes him in KMKYWAP as his favourite Bond actor and keeps a framed picture of him in his room at the Travel Tavern. It is also revealed that he keeps this portrait of Moore in his daydreams.

One thing that’s important to know regarding Alan’s sexuality is his relationship with Michael.

While Michael never refers to Alan other than “Mr Partridge” and Alan treats Michael with some disdain, the two have a notably strong bond, with Alan even calling him a friend.

In This Time, we look at Alan’s photo gallery. While his gallery contains photos of, among several things, pictures of Noel Edmonds and Alan posing with a car, one of the photos in Alan’s gallery is Michael, followed by a drawing of him.

The fact there’s a drawing of Michael is very telling. Michael tended to not have any real friends apart from Alan, so it can be implied this is Alan’s own drawing of Michael. But then, why did Alan draw Michael? It seems a tad odd.

When Alan and Michael finally reunite after the latter being missing for a decade in From the Oasthouse, Alan is clearly very happy to see him.

Alan: Oh my god. It’s ringing. I think I might have solved it. … nah, he’s absolutely going to hate- Hello? Michael: Hello? Alan: Michael? Michael: Aye. Alan: Oh my god, oh my god- Michael… it’s- it’s- it’s Alan. […] Michael: Oh hello Mr Partridge! Alan: Yeah, that’s me! Yeah! I knew you’d remember! Michael: Aye. Alan: I- oh my god, I can’t believe I’m talking to you. Michael: Aye. Alan: I can’t believe I’m actually speaking to you. […] Alan: It’s actually you. You didn’t drown then! Michael: Me? No. Alan: Are you alright? Michael: Aye. Alan: Oh I’m glad because we- we used to have fantastic chats didn’t we? […] Alan (after the call is over): Ah, that was amazing. I got goosebumps again now.

While Alan has had friendships (Simon) and rivalries (Simon & Clifton), Michael is the one friend he’s had permanently over his time in the franchise, and is one of the few main recurring characters - alongside Lynn.

—

Anyway thanks for reading my lil analysis on this silly little pathetic guy /aff. Hope you enjoyed reading, and I hope it gave you something to think about.