#if that makes any sense and I have not completely lost my goddamn mind yet

[cuteniaarts]

Behold, my latest and most enamouring new obsession:

Malina, Lady of the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe. As if Red Lotus child OCs weren’t niche enough

[sihtsisdrowkcab]

DP x DC prompt - Villainess AU

Hey! So I found this promt and just had to write something with it!

https://www.tumblr.com/kuroishuuha/714717053010984960/dp-x-dc-prompt-villainess-au?source=share

Prompt

-Danny is transported into a novel/game where he is the villainess fiancé of the male lead.

Knowing that only death awaits him at the end, Danny tries to end the engagement (who knows if death will stick this time - Danny is not gonna risk finding out)

Meanwhile, Jason finds himself as the male lead of a novel/game he never read/played

The system in his head is telling him that the only way to get back home is to have a happy ending with his fiancé

So we have Danny who is desperately trying to end his engagement and a Jason who is trying to woo his fiancé (and cursing the original male lead - because the guy must have done something horrible for his cute and nice fiancé to be desperate to break up with him)-

Story

Danny was so over this. He thought this would have been easy, maybe not on his parents part god knows they don't give up without a fight, but his fiance has shown nothing but disdain for him his whole life (even if he wasn't here for 90% of that life) He thought he'd only have to tell his fiance that he didn't want to marry him, his fiance would be ecstatic and run into the sun with Ophelia and he'd get the weight off his shoulders and wouldn't have to worry about dying anymore and yet...

"No."

Danny just looked at him with horror "What do you mean no?" He practically yelled.

"No, I won't break off the engagement."

"Why not!? You hate me! You've hated me since the moment we met! I know you want to be with ophelia!"

Daminan looked like he was trying to read his face which makes no sense, if anyone should be trying to read the other's face it should be him!

Danny grabbed Damian's shoulders and shook them, he knew he wasn't acting like a proper gentleman, but his life was on the line! "Have you lost your goddamn mind? What in the world is wrong with you?" He paused, took a breath and let go of his shoulders. He was sure this had something or the other to do with politics, he just couldn't wrap his mind around it at all. He took another step back, he had to appease Damian somehow. "Look, neither of us wanted to get married and neither of us really knew what we were getting into when our parents signed the agreement and had us agree to this, my parents won't back down but from what I know of your parents they'll let you back out of this no problem. My parents will be pissed but that's neither here nor there. There is really no reasonable excuse for why we shouldn’t break off our engagement." Danny said smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. There was no way Damian could deny all of that.

-

How could Jason deny all of that?! He was acting completely out of character, which was funny because he hardly knew what his character was like at all besides from second hand accounts. When he was told he just had to get a happy ending with his fiance he had thought this would be a piece of cake, he had brushed everything else off and took this as a really weird miny vacation, how hard could it really be to marry your fiance? Everything was already set up, it couldn't fail.

Except for the fact that apparently he was a dick and hated his fiance and she was done with all that, which he would have cheered on the fiance any day, get rid of that dick 100%. But now he was here in that dick's place and having to deal with his stupid problems and his fiance wanted to divorce him! How was he ever going to get a happy ending out of this? He did eventually want to get home no matter how annoying Bruce could be at times.

His fiance huffed drawing his eyes to him, he really was very pretty, he had no idea why Damian seemingly hated him. Sure he was being annoying as hell right now but really that was all Damian's fault.

"look i don't know why you seem to be fighting for this, it seriously seems like you just forgot everything!"

Jason froze, should he go with that? It really would be rather convincing seeing as he really didn't know Damian at all.

Danial paused, his eyes widening as he fixed on Jason's hesitance, seemingly picking apart all that he was and assessing him not adequate.

"You really don't act like Damian at all..."

He froze again, was that a good thing? Was this gonna be what gave him away?

"Did you hit your head or something? Temporary amnesia?"

"Y-yes!" Was he messing this up, would Danial believe that?

"Then why are you fighting so hard to keep the engagement? You don't know me at all."

Shit. shit what did he say? How did he convince Danial to keep the engagement if his other self hated him and this self didn't know him?

"I-I heard how wonderful you were from my parents and- and fell in love!"

Danial backed up with a distured look on his face, fuck he shouldn't have said that. "Love? After just hearing about me? That’s… kind of creepy."

“I just want to get to know you!”

Danial looked at him, his shoulders slumped and he looked resigned as he said "fine we'll keep up the engagement for now.” yes! “But when you get your memories back, we're breaking it off.”

Not great, but at least he knew that wasn’t going to happen. 

 He turned around to leave, oh wait. "I haven't told anyone else I've lost my memories so could you keep that one to yourself?" He asked, turning back around.

Danial looked at him suspiciously. "Why haven't you told anyone else? Not even your family?"

Fuck again! Why couldn't he just get this right? "Of course my family knows!" He really hoped Danial never met them because they absolutely did not. "but no one at this school does, i don't want them to treat me like i'm made of glass like my parents." Not completely off base, they've been tiptoeing around him all summer, probably because he was acting so weird.

"that makes sense." Danial sighed, he looked suddenly like the whole weight of the world was upon his shoulders. 

Jason screwed up his face, he had definitely been the one to place it there. He wanted to go over to him and tell him that they could break off the engagement after all but he really couldn't do that. "I'm sorry." He settled for instead.

Danial looked surprised. "You’re apologizing?"

"Yeah, I've made this so much harder for you than it really had to be. And you don't really know me anymore and I really don't know you."

Danial looked at him with something akin to empathy. "It's hard being thrust into a world that's unfamiliar to you isn't it? No one you trust or know around you and having to be something your not."

Jason looked at him in genuine shock. "H-how?"

Danial looked panicked for a second before he gave a light laugh. "I may not have amnesia but I do have expectations from everyone around me." He rubbed his arm. "Everyone says you're way out of my league and that I'm lucky to have you." This time his laugh was bitter.

"If anything you said about the old me was true it was really the opposite."

Danial gave a snort that Jason couldn't help feeling was the prettiest thing he's ever heard. "oh believe me i down played it."

Jason looked at him aghast. "Downplayed it!? Just how bad was I??"

Daniel gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and a smirk, "Now that, my friend is a talk for another time. Danial moved past him brushing his shoulder, what felt like a shock passed through him and he went stiff. When he finally came to his senses he was all by himself, What had just happened?

[luvvrz]

Blurred Lines [Logan / Reader, 18+]

AKA: You and your roommate have something unspoken going on, but the author is half-asleep writing and hoping to god my words make any sense at all because they did NAWT proofread

Additional tags: female reader, friends to lovers, oral stimulation, worship

OTHER WORKS

The way Logan ate was, well... as animalistic as expected.

In his defense, he was a goddamn animal - attempting to housetrain a man like that was like trying to teach a goldfish how to drive.

As he began to chow down, you moved across the kitchen. Your apartment wasn't very big, but it was more than enough for the two of you - though, it was pretty humurous seeing his bulking form squished into one of your tiny kitchen chairs.

He smells of outdoors, of blood and sweat. He could use a bath, no doubt, but there was something enticing about that earthy scent, masculine in nature - so overwhelmingly Logan.

Christ, the two of you were walking a bit of a blurred line, here.

You'd been roommates for God knows how long, now. Sure, there was a bit of flirting here and there, but you always maintained your distance. You get too close to the Wolverine, you get burnt.

As you flutter about like some kind of butterfly, hazel eyes track after you, watching how your pajamas cling to your curves, how your body shifts and stretches. It's almost a tease, the way you bend and move around. His body responds in kind, and he has to shift on the chair to adjust himself discreetly.

Logan takes another bite of his dinner to clear that thought, noticing how the taste of the meat and veggies doesn't do much to quench that heat. He'd give a kidney for some whiskey to take the edge off, but he's all out - though, unbeknownst to him, you know him like the back of your hand.

Even so, you fail notice the way he adjusts himself discreetly in his jeans, or the way his eyes drag over your form. You don't have superhuman senses like he, but you do know him. You know his drinking habits, and you know from the look on his face that his stash is all but dry. You don't even turn to face him as you gather two glasses from the cabinet, before reaching into the pantry.

Whiskey - a freshly bought bottle, from the looks of it.

You take your time, placing a few ice cubes in each cup, before filling them upwards. To the brim, just like he did. You lacked supernatural instincts, but you were observant enough.

"You look thirsty."

The irony of that sentence is lost on you.

You don't wait for a response before you're slipping into the seat across from him, pushing the amber filled glass across the wood. It's enough to render him speechless, a feat not often accomplished - yet, he finds himself almost choking on his dinner. What were you, a goddamn mind reader? Those eyes were wide, unbelieving as they flickered from the glass, to your almost smug face.

"Where'd ya' get this, Bub?"

His voice is barely a grunt as he leans forwards in his seat, calloused hand slipping around the cup. His gaze is back on the glass, tracing the condensation racing down the side for only a moment before he's taking a long swig. It burns going down, and he's grateful for the feeling - a temporary respite from the tension.

"And you? You don't drink whiskey."

This makes you huff a laugh, much to his amusement. There's something alluring about the way you swirl your own glass almost absentmindedly, the alcohol within like liquid gold as your eyes meet his over the rim. There's something intense in the air, electric and dangerous, enough to make him look away almost instantly. For a moment, the room is silent, save for the sound of ice clinking together in some kind of bizarre symphony, before you're speaking again.

"Ah, you didn't know me in college."

You didn't even nurse your drink. Logan's entranced as you bring it to those pink lips, draining the glass in one goddamn fell swoop. Your throat bobs as you swallow, and only once it's completely empty do you slam it back down on the table, a thumb coming up to dab the remnants off the corner of your mouth. It's a nice burn, a low buzz that makes your belly feel warm.

And fuck, it makes Logan feel warm all over, too.

You didn't even bat a goddamn eyelash. Your skin's reddening from the liquor, your lips are spread in that ever-present smirk, and you look like a goddamn angel sent from hell. His eyes don't leave your mouth, watching as that little tongue peaks out to lick at your lips.

Lord have Mercy.

Your lips are moving again, though, and he's broken from his trance.

"Friends drink together, yeah?"

The word makes bile threaten to rise in his throat. Friend, his ass. Friends don't look each other in the eye as they tongue fuck a glass of whiskey - which you'd thrown back like it was a glass of water. Logan's been with a lot of women, seen a lot of shit, yet nothing made his dick stand at attention quicker than watching you drink like a Sailor. You, petite and sweet you, so innocent and pretty and Christ, he wanted to defile. Tear it to shreds, give you something else to wrap those pretty lips around -

"Yeah... friends." He grumbles, bringing his own glass back to his lips.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

One drink turns to two, and two turns into four, and soon enough, the pair of you are six drinks in.

Between the two of you, you've probably drank enough to knock out a whole bar top full of grown men - yet there you sit, pretty as can be, holding the nearly empty bottle to your chest like it was nothing. Sure, your eyes are glossy, and your face is the color of a cherry, but you're holding up immaculately. Your speech isn't slurred, and you don't even look remotely close to hurling, like most in your position would be.

You take yet another sip, crossing one leg over the other - though, the way you're drinking is anything but ladylike.

"Do you even get drunk? I mean, I'd assume the whole regeneration shit would wipe it all right out of there."

Logan huffs softly, the closest thing to a laugh you'd ever get out of him.

"I heal. Ain't got shit to do with being drunk."

Another swig, though the drink is the furthest thing from his mind. How could it not be, he thinks, as his eyes rake across your crossed legs. Sitting so fuckin' pretty, like a living doll.

How can he focus on anything besides those creamy thighs, blemish free and just barely hidden beneath the silken fabric of those pajama shorts. He wants to touch, to grab, to *claim.* You're too good for him, he knows it. You don't deserve what he can provide - or the lack thereof. But he can't help it - sure, he doesn't need a human woman, but damn does he want this one.

And from the way you've been eyeing him like a piece of meat over the table, he's sure you want him too.

He doesn't notice that you're speaking again, nor does he notice that you've risen from your seat. Hell, he doesn't notice a damn thing besides the way that shirt clings to your perky little tits. Lord, are you not wearing a bra? He can see the shape of those pretty nipples just barely stretching the fabric. He'd have a mouth wrapped around one of those melons if you'd just -

Let him in.

He doesn't know where his self-control has gone. Out the window a long time ago, he reckons. Suddenly, a calloused hand is wrapped around your wrist. You're so close he can smell your shampoo, something flowery. He can smell everything. The scent of surprise as he grabs you up, and the scent of interest that follows right after.

He rises to his feet.

"We need ta' talk."

His voice is gruff, a mere rumble as he peers down at you. The contact has your cheeks reddening further, a spark shooting up your spine. He looks so domineering like this, staring down at you through half-lidded eyes, all long dark lashes and widened pupils. You've gone stiff. For a moment, you're floundering. Flustered, as your brain short circuits.

"I, uh..."

You sputter dumbly, wrist flexing weakly in his grip. Your eyes are everywhere but him. He wishes you would look at him - he needs you to look at him.

"I don't really want to talk."

The flush on those pretty cheeks makes his chest ache. He wants to bend you right over this fucking table, but he's just barely got some restraint left within him. He wants to allow his lips to meet that supple neck, to sink his teeth into that skin. To drag them down along your chest, to bury his dick so deep in your heat that -

He growls lowly, bowing his head to better meet your gaze.

"Tough."

He's drawing closer, pink lips just barely ghosting the shell of your ear.

"Don't avoid me, girl. I can smell your lies."

Your jaw goes lax in response, sending a sense of triumph spiking high in his chest. He's teasing you, and you know it. He can smell the excitement leaking into the air, and he loves playing with you like this. You're shuddering in his hands, breath catching in your throat, and he can't help but to swallow thickly. That look in your eyes, it's going straight to his cock.

"Oh, look at you."

And you fucking twitch. You're eating out of the palm of his hand, and it has something feral deep within him roaring with delight. The way your pupils are dilating, it's sending a fire across his skin, lighting his fucking soul ablaze. You look so needy, like he's hung the stars himself.

And then you whimper, and whatever restraint he previously retained snaps.

He groans, a gruff 'fuck' as his hands wrap around those dainty hips like you weigh nothing at all. He's lifting you upwards, setting you up on the counter, and he wastes no time slotting himself between those long legs. His hands are everywhere, one sliding up to cup a handful of those gorgeous tits, while the other moves up to grip your jaw. He's turning your head you meet his gaze, lips just a hairs-width away from your own.

"Say it. Tell me you want me, baby. Let me hear you."

The dominance dripping off his tone is enough to make you whine. His hands are massaging, squeezing, demanding your attention. It's hard to compile any coherent thoughts as those deft fingers close around a nipple, pinching just hard enough to make your back arch upwards against him.

You fucking love it. He can smell it on you as you bob your head dumbly.

"U-Uh-huh. Need you, Logan, I need you so bad."

Your fucking voice, so needy and desperate, it sends an inferno of heat crashing through his chest, and his lips meet yours passionately before you can even finish your sentence.

He's biting at your lip, searching for entrance. His hands are exploring, touching and squeezing and claiming whatever they can reach. They massage at your hips, before sliding downwards to cup your ass. Then he's yanking you forward, tucking his cock snugly within the cleft of your thigh. The feeling makes him shiver, and he has to reel himself in to keep from cumming in his pants like some virgin.

"You don't know what you fuckin' do to me. Been drivin' me crazy for fuckin' weeks, dreamin' about that slutty little mouth of yers'."

He's so hard against you that he's throbbing, and you're reacting like some post-orgasmic Madonna. Those pretty eyes are fluttering, fighting to stay open as you grip his shoulder blades like a lifeline. He's big, and for a moment, he wonders how its going to fit - then again, he really doesn't give a shit. He'll make it fit.

You're gasping into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting on whatever comes closest. Your lips are swollen, and there's drool running down your chin, but you clearly couldn't care less - not when you're sucking on his tongue so greedily it has him seeing stars, making his eyes go unfocused.

"Fuck me, baby, I can take it." You gasp, delicate fingers finding it's way to the hem of your shirt.

One hand snatches your own, pulling it away. He's growling, the sound reverberating his whole chest as he breaks the kiss. He's greedy as he moves to your neck, nosing gently at your pulse point.

You smell so goddamn good.

Then he's latching on, all teeth and tongue as his hands make quick work or your shirt, tearing the fabric like it's a piece of paper. It makes you squeal - he's sure you loved that shirt, but he doesn't give a damn. Not now.

"You're gonna take whatever I fuckin' give you, yeah?"

His head is hazy, and the way you're moaning like a wanton little bitch isn't helping him see any clearer. Your titties are bouncing, just barely held back by that flimsy bra, and his pants are so constricting that it hurts. He's got a vice grip on your thighs, fingers digging into the skin as he moves down your body, punctuation each movement with a kiss, or a nip. You whine the whole way down, making him grin into your skin.

From your chest, to your belly, to your waist line. Your hands have found purchase in his hair, knotting through the unkempt lock, and those nails are scratching at his scalp in just the right way that has him wanting to sing praises to the heavens. Those sharp teeth are catching in the waistline of your pants, and he's dragging them down with him.

You look divine like this, bare and trembling for him. His fucking mouth is watering, and you're getting off just on the way he's staring up at you from between your thighs. He looks predatory, eyes dark and narrowed as he licks a thin stripe at your inner thigh. Your hands are pushing down, so goddamn impatient. You're calling out for him like a mantra, and he hasn't even started yet.

If he was a lesser man, he would've fucked you there. But he didn't just want to fuck you, he wanted to worship you. Make you cum on his tongue and sing his name until it's the only word you remember.

He intends to do exactly that.

One hand is slipping beneath the wristbands of his sweats as he leans closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your pretty pussy. It makes you tense, and he chuckles softly as he uses his free hand to push your thighs further apart. Spread and bare, he feels like a parched man in the desert. Your pussy is so goddamn pretty, clit swollen and walls of velvet fluttering around fucking nothing. God, he could cum just from watching your squirm like this.

But this wasn't about him.

Without much more resistance, he's diving in. One slow stripe up your soaking slit has you keening, back arching as taut as a bow. He's sure you're squealing, but your thighs are squeezing his head so tightly that everything's muffled. He can't help but to groan at the heady taste of you, so fucking wet it's coating your thighs. He's like a man starved as he begins to worship your pussy like it's the only thing left on this fucking earth.

The fist around himself grips him tighter, and God, he feels like a fucking rock. He can't remember ever being this hard before. His balls are tight, and he's twitching angrily at each slick pass of his hand. The taste of you, mixed with the feeling of his calloused hand makes his eyes roll back.

You were so fucking sexy, the way you babbled as he tongue-fucked you like his life depended on it. In and out, your walls squeezing his tongue as if trying to beckon it deeper. He laughs at that, at your impatience, pulling back for a moment. You whine, clearly displeased by the lost of contact - until he spits on your your clit, thumb moving up to rub quick, tight circles on the bundle of nerves as he met your eyes once more.

"Talk to me, baby, tell me what you need."

It's pointless, really. You're gone, past the point of communication, but it's adorable the way that you try. You're babbling so sweetly, and the only words he can make out is 'please' and 'thank you.' His cock jumps at that, at his sweet girl begging so prettily.

His thumb is still doing figure-8s on your clit, tongue still lapping at your pussy like it was the only thing he knew how to do. He deserves a medal for multitasking, he thinks - not that it mattered. He could cum just like this, stroking his dick or not.

You're close, and he can tell. He didn't expect you to last long, not with how sensitive you were, but it was still a surprise to feel your walls start to constrict urgently around his tongue. He smirks, eyes darting up to watch your blushing face. You can't even meet his eyes anymore, too fucked out to do anything but sit there and take it.

So goddamn gorgeous.

It doesn't take long, not at all. He can sense it, in the way your muscles grow tense. You're getting wetter in his mouth, your hips canting upwards with purpose. Your grip in his hair is growing tighter, and your breathing is erratic. Only a little more, you told him. Then it became a mission.

Your words were true. All it took was him sucking your clit into his mouth, two fingers moving downwards to slip into you and curling upwards in a 'come here' motion, and then you were spasming like a woman possessed. He doesn't think he's ever heard you scream that loudly, and he doesn't think he's ever heard a sound so beautiful in his life. He isn't ashamed by the way he follows promptly after, either, spilling hot and fast into his pants with a breathy grunt.

The line wasn't blurred, not anymore.

[tonydaddingham]

still near catatonic about the show and the direction in which it was taken. ive seen macbeth on stage once before, and then on screen a few more times, and yet this one is probably the most sensitive, clever, and plain interesting version ive seen out of all of them?

you have david portraying macbeth as this really formidable, brave and lauded general, initially curious but otherwise sceptical at The Prophecy. that's a given. but then he gradually succumbs to ambition and greed; but what i didn't expect is the choice to emphasise how pitiful his wavering resolve would be? how he oscillates so heavily between heeding that greed, but initially clings to the last vestiges of his honour and morality. it's not just that he's a dick with sudden flashes of morality; you can feel that there's a war going on in there, and a constant underlying fear and terror. with macbeth in general i think it's tempting to immediately make macbeth either a mindless and easily-swayed tool of his wife or to make him outright bloodthirsty and tyrannical from the onset, but you don't... get that in this? at all? and it pleasantly surprised me. instead you get a deliciously insidious and creeping mania, steadily suffocating him (beautifully portrayed by a combination of the rest of the company, the score, and the lighting) and get to watch how it just ousts every last good and decent part of him, done so perfectly that i genuinely felt terrified and tense the whole time.

and then LADY MACBETH oh my GOD SO. so. from the first moment that she was on stage, cush was just utterly captivating. i didn't ever want to look away from her, even as she lingers in the background??? her madness, such as it is (and for lack of a better term), is so apparent from the very first moment that she's on stage; jittery hand movements, darting eyes, and a sweet, almost childlike voice? for me, the fact that this is not a wholly scheming, cruel, and demonised version of her, and instead is a lady macbeth that is achingly vulnerable, was so refreshing. like yeah she's visually marked with this sort of innocence, but it carries into cush's mannerisms and delivery too. despite her plotting and what she goads macbeth into doing - almost to a point that it seems like he deliberately uses her ambition as a scapegoat for his own - you end up seeing her as a lost soul, of sorts, and want to protect her from her own mind. the fact that you don't see a manifestation of her 'madness', only macbeth's, makes it all the more intriguing. and the language and imagery of rejecting her femininity and womanhood not only provides a contrast to macbeth re: perceived weakness/lack of conviction, but also further elucidates on how haunted of a person she seems to be? idk if that makes any sense but at times it felt like i was watching a play composed of ghosts right from the beginning. favourite portrayal of lady macbeth ever, hands down.

and then god im going to dream about the blocking and the choreography for bloody ages; not just the ceilidh (which was awesome, loved that sm) and the fight scene, but the choices in how each character moves around and uses the stage, and how they interact with each other (in this, lady macduff was particularly mesmerising goddamn). epitome of this however is a) the opening of the whole play because 🙃🫣🫠, and b) act 4 with the song of the witches (i don't want to spoil it or any of the other more horror-like scenes but im now intrigued that max webster also did king lear 👀 and would be very interested if he did something like othello, too). last thing was the sound; i didn't read much up on the first run before seeing it, so the only feature that i really knew about was the sound design- i was initially worried that it might be a bit gimmicky? but fuck it was complete genius.

anyway so this was a complete ramble but if anyone is still unsure whether to try getting on the day tickets just. do it. it's an incredible version of macbeth, and im fucking pumped that i get to see it twice more, because there is just so much that im sure i didn't pay enough attention to, and absolutely deserves it. amazing company, amazing play, and whilst - don't get me wrong - i feel this is one of his most defining (if not The defining) shakespeare role for david, i truly didn't expect to be so blown away by literally everything else.

[mrs-snape5984]

“Take my mind and take my pain…”

“Like an empty bottle takes the rain. And heal, heal, heal….” (“Heal” by Tom Odell)

Nighttime is my favourite time of the day. Being surrounded by this natural darkness and silence (not in the way, in which I have to “mute” the world all day long by shutting the blinds and wearing noise cancelling headphones to avoid being overstimulated) makes me feel…safe. Almost content.

In some nights, I’m even strong enough to leave my room, so I can sit outside on my balcony, enjoying a fresh breeze on my face. The world is silent, there’s no car on the streets and all I see, is the Moselle glistening in the moonlight in front of me. Finally feeling human again…

During the phases of my crashes, I can’t even step outside to my balcony. Sometimes I’m desperate enough to crawl outside, when my legs are refusing to do their goddamn job even with the help of my cane! In these moments, I’m glad to be alone…without any witnesses to my humiliation.

Last night was a lost night. I passed out…again. It scares me to hell that these moments are happening more often nowadays. All I know, is that I sat down on my bed…crying from exhaustion and pain. And hours later, when I’m coming back to consciousness, I’m still in the same sitting position. There are proofs in my room, that my children must have been here…proofs like a drawing lying next to me on my bed…a plushie sitting on my coffee table, watching over me. And I know that my kids will tell me, that I didn’t wake up…no matter what they tried to do.

Yesterday a friend of mine wanted to visit me in order to enjoy a cup of tea with me in the darkness of my room. I was so excited to see her…to have someone here for a little while…to feel less lonely for a moment. My body ached so badly and my exhaustion felt like a truck, who was parking on me…so I passed out whilst I was waiting for my friend to come over. When I came back to senses, there were several text messages and several calls from her. She was upset, that I didn’t hear the doorbell, both of my phones and her knocking on the door. So, after a while, she left…and all what’s left for me is a feeling of being a total failure…a pathetic shadow of myself.

There’s still no cure for ME/CFS…and no one knows, if there’d ever be one. All I can do, is trying different things, and yet…nothing helped me. With each new crash I’m falling deeper into the void of darkness and despair. Each new crash takes its toll on me…takes a piece of me away! I’m so afraid of losing myself completely!

When I commissioned my friend @sleepybradipo for this meaningful piece of art, I begged him to make the trust between Severus and Julia - but also their despair - palpable. They’re searching for a way to heal Jules…to cure her body and her soul. Maybe the answer lies in the Dark Arts…who knows? These lovers will try anything possible in order to save her…just like I wished to be saved.

Ivano, when I got the idea for this project, I just knew, that you would be the best artist to make my dream come true. Your tender style makes my heart swell with so much love and gratitude. I adore your work and the dedication to all these marvellous details in this artwork…it’s everything, I hoped to see, when I described my idea to you. Thank you for helping me to soothe my troubled heart and mind with your beautiful art and your kind words. I’m beyond grateful that I met you here, my friend. You’re truly a blessing to me. Thank you for everything. 🥹

Oh, and please take my apologies for this chaotically worded post. My disease seems to rob the next piece of me by stealing my ability to create vivid images with my phrases (I already mentioned that in my last post).

I’m sharing my nocturnal view with you. Feel free to enjoy the Moselle at night.

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

[spinji]

Imma be honest, I have no idea where people are coming from sympathizing with All For One.

I get the simps, you guys are gonna twist things for your meow meow all you want. More power to you.

But the narrative wastes no time showing us that AFO's greed and desire to control is INSTINCTUAL. He stole nutrients from Yoichi in the womb, stole his mother's quirk, and (arguably) stole her life. This was long before he'd be developed enough to make a conscious choice.

"But AFO is the one telling us this so of course he might lie" No???? We don't have any characters that could relay this information to us so the narration is just neutral omniscient dialog to explain what's happening, referring to AFO in the third person. This isn't diagetic narration.

Do you honestly think AFO, losing his goddamn mind in the middle of a fight, would turn to Bakugou like "so my mother was a prostitute-". The last page is the only one explicitly from AFO's point of view and that has a very obvious change in perspective. So no, I don't think All For One is telling us the story of how he was almost eaten by rats. We can absolutely take this at face value.

There are more complicated implications about the world building in this chapter, like how the actually recorded first quirk was flashy but harmless to set up a nice and happy origin of meta abilities despite that not being true. It puts AFO in a tight position as well because well he grew up in a hellscape with no parents and learned how to survive on his own right? So it's okay that he killed all those anti-quirk people right?

What about Yoichi?

Yoichi grew up in identical conditions to AFO, just as starved, just as unloved, just as alone. But Yoichi also grew up kind. He had empathy and hope, not wanting innocent people to get hurt. You can't inherently blame their circumstances when AFO has been a dickhead since birth and yet his twin, in the same scenario, did not. The difference? AFO had power and a compulsive need to control.

Yoichi would not have felt the need to run away, willingly, with Kudou if this was meant to be AFO's tragedy. Tenko's family ran to him, Touya's family thought they lost him, AFO's ran away from him.

AFO is blinded by ego and an all consuming sense of control. He is very much meant to be the embodiment of these things, monolithic as a threat. And his pursuit after One for All has been both a power grab and a desire to have complete control over his brother again in the form of suppressing his vestige.

Remember how Himiko actively chose not to live by a villain name? Because she didn't see herself as a criminal?

This is All For One's origin story and we still only know his villain name.

Do you really think that's not intentional?

[tachimichishrine]

First of all I must say that... THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR THE VALUABLE CONTENT OF TACHIHARA, I NEED MORE OF THIS BEAUTY, I LOVE EACH OF YOUR WRITINGS AND... It's still going around in my head how the virgin Tachihara would react receiving his first oral, I need to see this guy cry 👏.

<oh my godddd yall need to stop making me meltdown with these compliments so i can elaborate on virgin tachi getting his brains fucked out so good he forgets his own name>

"first time"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

virgin!tachihara michizou x fem! reader

▸◃▵pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3▵▹◂

warnings: nsfw ; drug + alcohol use implied ; slight voyeurism/ public sex ; degradation ; masturbation (m) ; oral (giving) ; intended lowercase ; cursing ; pt 2 of ruining pre-hunting dogs tachi im making this a goddamn series and it's gonna have more episodes than one piece

the engine purred quietly when your grip on the wheel was loose and your toes dipped on the pedal. your windows were rolled down and the breeze was blowing through his ebony hair.

the scent of the damp night horizon mixed in quite nicely with the sensation of your fingers dancing up and down tachihara's leg. you were leaning back in the seat, a gentle laughter as you snuck glances at his expression.

"the night's still young," you murmured teasingly, thumb rubbing up on his inner thigh. "you sure you don't-"

"shut up." his voice was shaking a lot more than he cared to let on, the quiet sigh almost lost in the wind.

it was too easy. you could see the silhouette of the bulge in his pants from after you'd pulled him into an empty car and ruined him, and his face was doing a terrible job at concealing it. your eyes were trained on the street but every sense was honed in on his subtle squirming and the hitching of his breath.

"woah, someone's uptight. need some help letting loose?"

not a chance was given because your fingertips were getting way too close and he couldn't back his hips into the seat to shy away from your touch anymore. you swerved on the empty roads, running lights and accelerating brashly, partly because you wanted to instill in him the high pressure, blood-pumping adrenaline that your hazy mind was experiencing.

he let out a muffled whimper once you pushed down with the palm of your hand and rubbed along the length. you were high on the aftertaste of the blunt you'd been smoking and drunk on the control of having him come apart so easily when you increased the pressure and stole a husky groan from his chest. he was practically twitching in your grasp when you curled around him and handled him just a little harder.

"want me to pull over and take care of ya?" you asked, the words kind and considerate but the way you were almost jerking him off like you wanted him to break were anything but.

his ego wouldn't let him. "nah, I-I'm... mnnn I'm good."

you shrugged your shoulders with a coy smile. "if you say so."

the ride back was worse than he could've ever imagined. he figured you'd act like last time, when you wasted no time in sliding under layers of clothing and got straight to the point. maybe you were taking it easy before, and the fact that he was hard all over again just thinking about it was signal enough that you had the green light to do with him as you pleased yet you did nothing drastic.

he didn't know what to do with his hands. any action to shed a few garments resulted in you pulling off of him completely with a teasing 'tsk' like you weren't pleased he was trying to do something himself. it took begging - something he'd never thought he'd do - in the most lustful, pathetically needy pleads just to get you to go back to teasing him. the closest thing he got to relief was when you slid your hand up his shirt then down his pants to keep playing with him without ever making skin-to-skin contact.

tachihara let out a frustrated groan. "please, stop fuckin' with me, and just-"

"fuck you?" you completed the thought, giggling at yourself while he kept shifting himself on the seat to get you to be as close as possible. "you wait this long and suddenly you're so impatient, tachi. what ever happened to good things come to those who wait?"

his mind wanted to tell you to shut the hell up with your perky responses but it was busy being corroded by pulsating senses shooting up his body. he couldn't handle it anymore; you oscillated between a slower and a faster pace in order to give him the one he didn't want. if it wasn't for his need for you to do it for him, he would've pounded himself just for a temporary escape from the embarrassing situation of moaning in the stolen car in front of you. he tried to cover it up with more curses but every attempt was getting further and further away from fooling everyone.

it was a wonder how you hadn't gotten him to cum in his pants from the stimulation alone by the time you'd arrived back at the apartment. who knows whose it was, all you cared about was that your gang of misfits crashed there every night and right now the windows were flashing bright colours and you could basically hear the music from down where you were.

"so that's what those dickheads have been doin'," you remark as if nothing had been happening, climbing out of the vehicle you'd parked and taking a look upwards. "that's too bad, I'm sure you would've preferred privacy."

"I would've preferred...?"

his half-formulated question received a half-formulated answer when you pulled him by the wrist onto the side of the building, an alleyway that was dirty and grimy and dark and perfect for what you were about to do.

"mmnf~" he had a hard time resisting, let alone taking charge when you had his slammed against yet another hard surface with your hands all over him and your lips grinding up on him almost as roughly as your hips. if he wasn't already stimulated, bringing up your thigh to the side of his hip in order to hump yourself on him was the final straw.

"shit, don't make me ask again," tachihara tried to say forcefully but one roll of your clothed cunt got him nearly apologizing and begging you to be nice. there was no way you were going to let him brat tonight.

"better," you considered, your hand going back down to where it had previously ventured, but this time sliding under both pants and underwear in one fell swoop. there wasn't enough space, his pants taking the brunt of the aggression when you yanked your wrist back and the button popped off. he barely had time to register that you'd done away with his belt again when you were jerking him off so expertly he felt his body go weak and whole world blur.

maybe he was inexperienced, but maybe you were just too good: your command for him to spit in your hand brought another layer of red over his features, but goddamn was it worth it when you were lubing him up with his own saliva while pulling and pushing with talented fingers. you toyed with the end, which you could guess would be flushed a pretty pink if his cock wasn't veiled by the night. you drew circles around the pre-cum that was already pearling out the tip then smeared it all over the sensitive flesh. you paused the stroking for a moment to center it in your palm and rotate it softly and slowly, and for a second through his clenched eyelids he could've sworn he was being handled by a deity.

you didn't bother kissing him anymore, as the distance allowed you to look at him with his features illuminated by glowing neon and low yellow. your free hand pinched his face, his chin resting in the junction between index and thumb while you squeezed tightly and brought him at an angle to look at you.

"open 'em," you commanded, and he did after a bit of hesitation, or was it shame? the answer wasn't clear until you noticed water pooling over his lashes and struggling whimpers. "aww, am I takin' it too hard on ya?"

a rhetorical question; you slammed your hand back into his hips and his cock was having a difficult time not unraveling with every hard, borderline violent thrust. you checked in every once in a while, 'too much?', 'does this still feel good?', 'you want more, baby?' but every sultry sentence was just a ruse. the only confirmation you needed was the spasming of his muscles as he came all over your hand.

he was so glad the high had passed and the buildup was over, even though every second felt so fucking good it was also humiliating to hear the echo of his own moan in an alleyway right outside your apartment complex in the dead of the night.

except that you didn't stop.

you knew just how sensitive he would be after his orgasm washed over him, yet you were mercilessly watching the tears stream down his perfect little face while you fucked him roughly in the aftermath. it was only through whining and begging to slow down that you kissed him again to get him to shut up. his lips tasted so good, salty from the tears and you opened your mouth against his gasps to let your tongue dance along the back of his teeth and roll over on the roof of his mouth.

too much, it was too much: your hand pounding him harshly with fingertips groping at his balls to balance the pain with pleasure, your teeth wrapped around his bottom lip while sucking it into you, not to mention your free hand grabbing at and massaging his ass. he didn't know what to feel except aroused as the blood rushed back down into his cock and he was about to do it all over again.

"hard again so soon?" you quipped. he didn't have the ability to respond since your hand had resized its grip again and he was losing his mind for a third time tonight. "you really are a fuckin' whore. fucked you in my cunt, fucked you on my hand... all that's left now..."

and you dropped to your knees.

he couldn't even look at you, his throat dry and rasping while he recovered from the sudden lack of touch for the instant where you positioned yourself with your face on his hips and somehow managed to tease him worse than before.

tachihara preferred it like this. at least this way you didn't have a direct view of his tears and sobs while you fluctuated once more from dreadful overstimulation to languid motions. it was still cold out, but his body felt so warm from everything pumping in his veins, particularly his cock once you'd had your fun edging him with your tongue and slowly shifted towards sucking him off.

"nng... fuck, fuck, fuck," he panted, voice breaking with every word. "d-don't... don't fuckin' st-ahhh~"

you had no intention of stopping until his knees were weak and he couldn't manage a single word. your tongue rolled over every part of him that got his body twitching and the strong muscle sucked down so hard he thought you'd just slurp his cum straight out of him like a goddamn sippy cup. his hands gripped onto the back of your skull to hold you, but he couldn't figure out whether he was trying to pull you off or push you on.

it didn't take long for him to snap once more and shoot hot liquid down your throat and face. he couldn't see you spitting it all out on the dirty pavement because the pleasure was just too much and he was trembling from all the sensations, porcelain cheeks adorned with streaks of his lust broken apart by your own. you dusted off the dirt from your knees and shot him a devilish smirk before kissing him, making him taste himself.

"shhh, it's ok," you murmured into his lips, hand caressing his face softly while you rubbed the tears with your thumb. "you did so good for me, baby. I wanted you to have a real taste of what I can do, so why don't we head in and you don't worry your pretty little head about this, yeah?"

his panting was loud, but he managed to cool down enough to sound coherent. "mmmn, yeah... yeah, let's do... that..."

"don't tell me you want more, you little slut." it was reflexive, at this point, to react this way when he was acting cute and oh so corruptible. your hand was loosely wrapped around his neck with the other trailed down his abdomen, all the while your entire body was trapping him against the brick wall again.

"'cause there are a whole lot of other ways I can fuck you, baby."

[inafieldofdaisies]

18. bear hugs

For Mary May and Cal (with Zorro maybe?) <3

Prompt from this post.

Mary May followed what could barely be called a path snaking through the woods, her eyes periodically darting down to the crudely drawn map Calahan had left for her. "I will be waiting, Angel." was scribbled next to an X marking what he deemed his favorite fishing spot that as far she could tell wasn't any of the ones the locals frequented. Multiple times she questioned her decision to come at all, trying to convince herself to turn around and trek back to her truck before she would inevitably lose daylight and end up completely lost. "This is dumb. Foolish as hell.", she mumbled out loud, her frown deepening as she navigated the rough terrain, "And Casey from all people is manning the bar. It would be a miracle if it's still standing when I return." Yet no matter how many times she reminded herself John's men could choose that exact moment to make another move, a part of her that always took over against her better judgment anytime Hartley was around, pulled her forward like a niddle of a compass, like she could feel him near and was drawn to find him at any cost. Compass- another thing she wished she had taken with her along with a goddamned flashlight. For a second she contemplated calling out for Calahan, sensing she must be getting closer to the place he was supposed to be waiting for her at, then she decided against the idea, worrying about drawing the attention of any Peggies that knowing her luck, could be lurking in the woods. "Should have brought my shotgun. Fucking stupid… leaving it in my truck, because 'who the fuck brings a shotgun to a date'?", her hands clutched the map tighter when she heard twings snapping somewhere to her left that made her pick up her pace.

Just when she was about to spin on her heel and completely give up on Calahan's reckless plan, the path finally opened up to quite the breathtaking view, especially with the sun beginning to set: a shoreline of a small lake that John by some miracle still hadn't stained with a Baptism spot. "Rookie?", she hollered as she shoved the map into her back pocket and scanned the area for any signs of life, "Cal? You better not have sent me on a wild goose chase, I swear I won't let you leave it down." Then a sight made her release the breath she was holding as she got confirmation she was where she was supposed to be: a raccoon emerged from one of the overgrown shrubs ahead of her, its small head twisting to look her way. "Zorro, bud.", Mary May rushed to cover the distance that separated them in case Zorro decided to play hide and seek like his human father, "Where did your daddy go? Don't tell me he got into trouble…" The second the words left her mouth, arms wrapped around her from behind and enveloped her in a bear hug, a chuckle breezing over her skin before Calahan smushed his cheek to hers, "I'm right here, Angel. Was starting to think you won't show and it would be just me and Zorro again." There was a note of vulnerability to his playful tone, causing her heart to skip a breath as she covered his hands with her own, and their fingers intertwined. Zorro followed suit, paws encircling her leg, "Your little map and note certainly piqued my interest." Calahan swayed lightly, and she tried to stop herself from melting into his body when his lips brushed over her cheek, "I knew mystery would do the trick. How do you like my favorite place in the Valley?" "It's… peaceful. Almost like there's no war going.", Mary May muttered slowly, wishing she hadn't asked the next question the moment it escaped her, "You bring other girls here?" He let out a deep laugh, making the ugly feeling inside her fester further. Jealousy. "Never mind, Rookie.", her attempt to shrug off his hug was unsuccessful as he held on then as swiftly as he had embraced he twirled her around to face him, hands coming to rest on the small of her back.

"Calahan." "What?" He smirked, "That's my name, Mary May. You back to actin' all disinterested? Calling me Rookie?" Mary May shifted her eyes to a spot on his shoulder, annoyance swooping in at how easy he was able to read her and how satisfied he seemed with that ability. "Jealousy, Angel, not something I ever imagined from you. But damn, if it's not addicting… You know why? It means you care for me." His hand cupped her face and forced her to raise her gaze back to his before he continued, "Just my favorite people, Mary May. You, my son, my boys, Sabrina. Made the mistake to drag Pratt here once, kept complaining he couldn't catch any fish, the fucker." A couple of beats passed where she found herself unable to stop herself from returning his smile, "Damn it, Cal." "What?", Calahan asked in amusement. "I wish I hadn't… waited so long." His thumb storked her cheek as he nodded knowingly, "Me too. Come now, the view's about to get even better when the sun dips completely." He grasped her hand, leading her down the shore until they stopped at a blanket, one he had no doubt taken from her closet, on top of it was an old picnic basket, another thing of hers. She lowered herself to sit next to him as he started to pull out food and laying it down on the free space, "Let me guess, you rummaged through my fridge, too?" "Nope. Well, kind of... Drinks are on you, yes... but", he offered her a cheeky grin, "Dinner's on John tonight." Mary May raised an eyebrow, making him add, "I looted one of his trucks on the way. Don't worry, I left him a little thank you note." "Of course you did." She leaned her head on his shoulder as they watched the sunset with Zorro nestling comfortably at her feet. For the first time in a long while, she realized she felt… happy and as much as she hated to admit it - it scared her, because in her experience the rare feeling never lasted. John Seed always managed to slip in at those moments and destroy any source of happiness. Her calm life before the Project. Her family. Her father's business. The fragile peace that held on for surprisingly too long in his region. Yes, she was afraid. Afraid he'd take Calahan away from her, too.

[pinkrose787]

Evil Poppy AU Chapter 1!

Decided to start writing a fic for my Evil Poppy AU. I hope you enjoy it! :D

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: Prelude: I Wanna Watch the World Burn

Every day of her life, Poppy has done her best to be good, be kind, help improve others lives. Everyone has to be helped. Doesn’t matter if the problem is big or small. She’ll be there with a helping hand, ready to make everyone feel better.

She does this all the time, no matter the cost to herself.

It doesn’t matter if she’s sick, injured, or just plain exhausted; she has to help to help every single troll in the village.

That’s what her father always told her growing up. That being a part of the royal family meant helping others above all else.

She took what her father said to heart. Spent her time making sure that she would not only be the perfect princess, but the perfect queen as well. When others went out to play, she was stuck with her royal responsibilities. She justified it by telling herself that this was all for the sake of everyone else. It didn’t matter how unhappy she was. If they were in her shoes, they would do the same for her.

She truly believed that for so many years. That everyone would treat her with the same honesty and kindness that she has shown all of them for her entire life. Those traits are supposed to be natural to trolls. It should only make sense that they are all the same at their core. Her assumption was a naïve yet hopeful one.

She was wrong, of course. She learned that lesson in the most painful way possible.

Her father, the one that she has trusted implicitly, had lied to her for her entire life. He never told her about Viva. Not a single utterance of her name. When Poppy mentioned that she wished that she had siblings, he would tell her that she was an only child and had always been an only child.

He was not the only one who had been keeping such a huge secret from her. So many of her so-called loyal subjects, had kept up the same lie for years upon years without any regard for the fact that Poppy deserved to know.

All of them knew that she had an older sister. None of them, not a single goddamn one, thought to mention that fact to her. In fact, they all went through a concentrated effort to completely erase her existence from history.

Viva’s face was wiped out from every single scrapbook, photo, written record, anywhere that would indicate that she ever existed. There wasn’t even any kind of memorial for her. As far as everyone knew she was dead and they didn’t even bother to at least try to grieve her loss.

All it took was a single accident and she was gone from everyone’s lives and everyone’s minds. If it hadn’t been for Poppy’s chance encounter with her, she would have never had any idea that Viva existed.

Had things gone just a little differently, that could have been her. She could have been the one lost in the escape tunnels that night. She could have been the princess erased from history. The one whose name they don’t even dare to whisper.

The worst part of all of this is that Viva was meant to be the queen, not Poppy. She should be the one in power.

Her anger doesn’t stop at her father nor does it stop at all the trolls that had lied to her over the years.

It has started to grow at everyone around her. Her eyes have been opened to how much everyone takes advantage of her kindness. How often she goes out of her way, only for them to not give her a single thank you.

This anger has even reached her feelings towards Branch. Especially Branch. Though he’s arguably the one that’s been the most grateful to her, she can’t forget all the years she spent trying to make him happy just to watch him crush her handmade invitations beneath his feet.

Something occurs to her. Did Branch know about Viva? He’s only a couple years older than Poppy, but he had to know. How could he not have?

If he knew, then did any of her other so-called close friends know but never told her? Smidge, Biggie, Satin and Chenille? Was Creek not the only one of her friends to betray her in such a terrible way?

Maybe Creek was right. Getting eaten then would have been a kindness, because then she wouldn’t have to face the truth of that fact that her entire life was a lie. That everything she knew, everything she was raised for was a lie.

The knowledge that everyone around her has betrayed her, swirls about in her mind. The pictures around her room seem to be mocking her. Laughing at her as she tries to grapple with what happened.

She can't stand this anymore. She can't stand being the good queen that everyone looks up to. The friend that everyone goes out of her way to help with their problems. The one who forgives everyone no matter how horrible what they have done is.

Over the years now, she's become one of the most trusted trolls in the entire Troll Kingdom. She knows the secrets of almost everyone from the average troll to royalty. All of them have confided in her their hopes, dreams, fears. Most importantly, she knows everyone's thoughts and feelings of each other.

She sees how delicate the social ecosystem is. Tied together with fragile string. Fragile string formed from every single lie told. Whether big lies like telling someone they don’t have any siblings when they have a sister or small white lies like someone saying that they like someone’s hideous new shirt.

A single truth can break so many of these fragile strings. If every single truth was revealed, then it would all crumble like sand.

Poppy made one big mistake over the course of her life. Her heart was an open scrapbook. Everyone knew the contents of her soul. What was written in that scrapbook was, “I’m kind! You can take advantage of me, lie to me, even hurt me and I will always forgive you!”  

Not anymore!

Today starts a new era in Poppy's life!

From this day forward, she will no longer be the one who acts with kindness, forgiving those who betray her. No longer will she be the one to go out of her way to help those who would never help her.

Now, she'll be the one tearing apart this delicate social balance. She will tear down the many trolls who betrayed her. She'll slowly poison them against one another. A comment about how one said something mean about the other here, a whisper about how everyone feels about them there, maybe even sabotaging a party too.

The best part: no one is going to suspect her. No one is going to think that dear sweet Queen Poppy could ever be evil. Maybe they’ll think she’s become a bit ditzy. That would make tearing everything apart even easier. They will all underestimate her.

By the time they realize that they have all been played for the fools that they are, Poppy will have won. Everyone will hate each other. Everyone will live in a state of constant distrust. The damage that she's done will be irreparable. Its effects will be felt for generations.

Poppy built up this new world of peace of love between all the trolls. Now, she's going to burn it all to the ground and make s'mores with marshmallows she roasted over the flames.  

[josiebelladonna]

(parentheses are from me)

”benefits of Kinktober:

Increased self-awareness. Kinktober can help you to learn more about your own kinks and desires. This can lead to increased self-awareness and self-acceptance.” (oh, it’s made me self-aware, alright. self-aware in a sense that i feel so incredibly overwhelmed by my own complex emotions that i find it difficult to even put them into words or tell someone else about them).

Improved sex life. Kinktober can help you to improve your sex life by introducing you to new kinks and practices.” (i have no sex life and you seriously think that reading “he’s waiting for you and wanting to cum inside you!!” from some overly horny antisemitic 20-year-old who still thinks and acts like they’re 15 is going to make me even want a sex life at all?)

Increased confidence. Kinktober can help you to become more confident in your own body and sexuality.” (well, i sure fucked this up. if anything, kinktober has only made me feel worse about myself. my sexuality is worth no one’s time and people should be lucky i even considered doing this fucking bullshit again in the first place. i don’t feel sexy: i feel exposed. i feel raw and exhausted and… defeated. i feel like i’ve already lost before i even started because i don’t do reader inserts, i was unpopular to begin with, and i just have always felt different. who could get off to anything that comes out of me? i don’t see it.)

Stronger relationships. Kinktober can help you to strengthen your relationships with other kinky people.” (yeah, dream on; part of why i haven’t joined a site like fetlife yet is because i literally feel like i’m too much. if i’m overwhelmed by my hundreds of kinks, i can only imagine how someone else would feel about it should i sound off to them)

Community. Kinktober is a great time to connect with other kinky people and to build a community.” (this is, without question, the most garbage community i have ever encountered and i’m speaking as someone who had her fics plagiarized, too. i want to dropkick the whole goddamn tag. i don’t like anything that is being posted so far, in fact, i find a fair number of prompts that are popular this year, like… rape kink, and “free use”, and anything that has to do with pregnancy, incredibly upsetting. and confusing, too, like i don’t understand what’s sexy about any of these. your kink is not my kink aside, i cannot believe these are popular and too often, i just want to tell these kids to fucking grow up but there’s no confronting them or saying anything to them that’s even vaguely critical, even if it’s meant to help. god forbid you confront someone in fanfic, oh no! so, with this in mind, i don’t like anyone who’s thrown their hats into the ring so far, they’re either antisemitic, irritating, or both. hell, i don’t like anything that was popular last year. i am still licking my wounds from last year and i want this so-called community to taste my blood. i want the metallica fandom to taste my blood because that was ground zero last year, fucking nickybloodhead and her stupid reader inserts with james. in fact, i cannot believe that i’m looking at the halfway point through my own fics for this because i am completely dreading this. just get it over with, rip off the proverbial band-aid, and give me complete hell. i am queuing up everything and then bouncing out, i really don’t think i can do this again after this year. this isn’t fun at all, but absolute complete torture. i just… I CAN’T.)

[bakersfield-row]

Haven’t done a reblog chain in a hot sec but eh I feel ok so might as well

I don’t really play video games so my list might look a little basic

1. Undertale - I used to be really into this game when I was in 5th-6th grade, back when it first released. I fucking obsessed over it, with most of the videos I watched at the time being undertale fan dubs. Even though I never completed the game then, I loved it to bits. At some point though, I kinda grew out of it. I never really outright hated the fandom, but I stayed far from it. I thought it was embarrassing that I nearly cried after reading an undertale comic, so I kinda just saw it as one of those things that you look back with embarrassment. I never touched the game until this summer, where I finally decided to play it again to cheer me up after some extremely traumatizing events. It was the first time I actually completed a true pacifist run, and I damn well nearly sobbed at the end. Several months later, I’m still kinda sad about it, how I wish one character got a happy ending, yet I’m glad the rest did. I was at an all time low when I played it, so it struck a really deep chord within me. It’s probably the only fandom I actually consider myself to be in; I read an undertale fanfiction that nearly made me ugly cry, which, like, isn’t very different to how I used to be in fifth grade, now that I think about it. I don’t know, I just think the game is neat, and I truly have never been the same since I played it.

2. Deltarune - of course I had to play it after the goddamn experience I had from Undertale. Undertale still holds a much more special place in my heart, but I’m still interested in Deltarune nonetheless. Honestly, a lot of the characters feel more thought out than some of the Undertale ones, and they’ve kinda grown on me more and more over the months. “Lost girl” and it’s hidden MIDI guitar cover really does make me empathize with the loneliness Noelle (or possibly a certain someone else) feels, and I sometimes feel embarrassed to say that it’s possibly one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard of. I’m really excited to play the rest of the chapters, whenever they come out.

3. A Short Hike - although I’m not as obsessed with this game as the previous two, I often consider it to be just as charming. It’s not really anything too endearing, I just think it’s a very sweet experience, something to put your mind at ease and relax. There really isn’t any set plot or story for it, you can just do fuck all with the game. It evokes this sense of exploration most of us have as a child, and while I never really experienced that feeling, this game helps me grasp an idea of it. I should probably play it again sometime, to be honest…

4. Minecraft - there really isn’t much to say about this one, mostly because I think we all experienced Minecraft sometime during our childhood. For a very long time, i spent most of my days with an iPad and making buildings for a city I never completed. I used this game to bond with people that have forever changed my life, for better or for worse. I’m really not into it nowadays, but I cannot ignore the sheer impact it had on how I came to be.

5. Roblox - I really couldn’t come up with another game other than this one. If I did, I would replace it, but I couldn’t. That being said, I grew up with Roblox as much as I did with Minecraft, and I have a lot of fond memories of playing with my family on it. Probably the first time I was involved with an online community, with devastating effects.

@willowplantcat @terrencetheshark14 @teavyy @tolbre @lee-hakhyun @afemwolfboy @msmoobutepic @your-resident-boat-person @kakaowymordulec @keenkryptonitenut @empress-of-dark2005

Minecraft, DDLC, Yandere Sim, FNAF, and Animal Jam 🫡

[hiddles-and-skittles]

Ride

Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,585

Summary: Gatherings can't be that bad, right? Especially if your boyfriend convinces you to ditch early for a ride home on his motorcycle. It's just unfortunate he's gotta rile you up beforehand.. .

Warnings: 18+, kinda masturbation/edging by motorcycle???, teasing, pet names; sweetheart, doll, cocky Bucky (what? He's definitely a warning)

Notes: This idea came to me and I absolutely could NOT put it down. I don't typically write smut or anything along those lines, so any feedback is appreciated! This is way out of my comfort zone😅

____________

"Come on, Sam is waiting on us."

You roll your eyes and dramatically throw yourself back on the bed. "Yeah well, Sam can wait. I don't even want to be there."

"And you think I do?" He calls to you, pulling on his gloves and nearly stomping back towards your room.

"Bucky, I don't want to go." He stands in your doorway and you pout at him, making him sigh.

He cocks an eyebrow at you. "I know. But who says we gotta stay all night?" At this, you raise up from your mopey position. "We make an appearance, talk to Sam for a little while, then get lost in the crowd and disappear. He won't even notice."

You hum thoughtfully. "Good point." You swing your legs over the bed and slip into your Converse shoes, plastering a smile to your face and gleefully skipping due to the fact you'll get to leave early.

Sam was having a reunion party with some buddies from his Afghanistan tours. It was a huge event downtown, but neither you nor Bucky was a big fan of crowds. So the two of you only considered going in support of Sam.

Bucky stopped on the apartment complex's steps, narrowing his eyes at an empty parking spot. "He took my bike."

You snorted. "Cab it is."

________

Shortly you arrive at the event and he opens the cab door for you, his knuckles grazing down your arm to catch your hand in his. The action sends a shudder through your body and he smirks, stopping to give you a scheming look.

"What?" you ask him, furrowing your eyebrows and squeezing his hand.

"Nothing," he simpers.

You decide to be suspicious of him for the rest of the evening.

There are a plethora of people but you both advance through the crowd in search of Sam, Bucky stopping you to point out that Sam is quite preoccupied. He nudges you towards the most empty table he can find so you can sit down. On either side of you both is an empty seat, and the rest of the chairs are filled by half-drunk, burly men sporting drinks.

One of them turns to you and introduces himself and his comrades. A few of them take quick note of Bucky's name, quoting something Sam has mentioned about him before then thanking Bucky for his service. You wrap your arm around his middle and look up at him with pride, nuzzling yourself closer to your soldier.

You're both quiet as the vets around you continue their chatter about their best times, their laughter making the atmosphere light. You have to admit, you might actually be enjoying yourself. You're lost in a story about a guy teaching his kid how to hot wire a car when a hand squeezes your thigh.

Your knee immediately jerks and hits the table and you have to bite your bottom lip to stifle a yelp. A few heads turn in your direction and as you feel the warmth spreading to your face, you feign a sneeze, apologizing for the interruption. Bucky remains dead panned, although the sides of his mouth subtly quirk up. You glare at him. "Bless you, sweetheart," he patronizes. You shift uncomfortably as the men return to their conversations.

His hand makes its way back to your thigh and you inhale sharply through your nose. "Bucky," you whimper, swallowing hard.

"Gotta keep quiet for me, doll, or I'll stop," he tuts lowly. Instinctively you spread your legs a little to make enough room for his hand. Your breath hitches as he circles your clit with his middle finger, lightly tracing down your clothed mound. You curse yourself for wearing jeans, because the thickness of the denim heavily affects the way he feels against you.

But you want more.

He presses harder until Sam struts over to the table, and Bucky innocuously throws his arm around your shoulder. You huff in frustration and he chuckles.

"Surprised you two haven't left yet," Sam laughs, sipping a beer and slapping a hand over Bucky's shoulder.

"Why would we do that?" Bucky asks sarcastically.

Sam rolls his eyes playfully. "Stay awhile, enjoy the sunset and have a drink. They're all on the house." You both pause in thought. "I knew that would convince you!"

"Well," you start. "The sky is gorgeous right now. Maybe just one drink till the sun sets."

Someone then calls for Sam and he excuses himself, telling you he'll see you back at home later. You watch him disappear into the crowd, reality hitting you that you're still worked up from Bucky's teasing. And all it takes is a devious look from him to get you riled up again. You shoot up from your seat to thank the vets around you for their service, and tell them that it was nice to meet them, but you have some personal matters to attend to at home. Bucky follows suit, grabbing your hand.

You try to push your way through the crowd without an obvious, horny spring in your step, and as you pass by a table, Bucky fishes a beer with his free hand without stopping.

"I'll call the cab back here and we can-"

"No."

"What?" You stop in your tracks and Bucky lets go of you, continuing to walk to where his motorcycle is parked. He beckons you over with a crooked finger as he mounts the bike, and you fold your arms over your chest, cocking an eyebrow.

"What? It's not like he'll be able to drive tonight anyway." He foots the kick stand, placing his beer in the back compartment then bringing his hands up to twist around the handlebars. "Come on, let's go watch the sunset."

"The-the sunset?" You ask incredulously.

"What? You said it was pretty, let's go get a closer look." Your eye twitches at his feigned ignorance.

"Bucky I swear to god if you don't take me right now-"

He grins. "Then I just won't take you at all." He revs the engine once to accentuate his threat and you groan. "Come on or I'll leave you."

"Fine."

You march over to him and swing your leg over the bike, nestling yourself into his back and situating your hands on top of his shoulders. The engine roars to life, the heads of onlookers catching your eye and in one swift motion he kicks it into gear and you're off.

The winds whips your hair and licks at your face, causing you to constantly tear it away from your eyes. Once free, you take in the view before you, ever amazed at how the sun sets on the water; the sky glows with an orange and pink hue, making it look like a painting. And for a moment you forget about your throbbing lower half until you shift to get a little more comfortable on the seat and oh. Oh.

Your hands impulsively tighten around his shoulders and your jaw goes slack, gasping as the vibration from the motorcycle hits just the right spot. You let out a light moan and no sooner clap a hand over your mouth, hoping Bucky hasn't heard you. Your head slumps forward on his back.

"You good back there?" He yells over his shoulder.

"Y-yeah! Uh-all good!" you wheeze, attempting not to sound too out of sorts. The street is bare as he stops at a red light, and you try to breathe so as not to let the pleasure overtake you. It's not that you don't want to let go, it's just that you know you'll never hear the end of it from him of you do.

When the light turns green, he revs the engine so many times you lose count. Your mind is swirling in ecstacy and you start to pant faster, clinging onto Bucky for dear life as you near your release.

You screw your eyes shut, the coil finally snapping while you bite down harshly on the shoulder of his leather jacket. By this point you're unabashedly gasping and moaning, your hips bucking wildly into the seat as your clit is overstimulated to the point it hurts.

You pray for the ride to your apartment to end while he speeds up, causing you to sob into the waves of pleasure the vibrations are granting you. You claw mindlessly at his torso until he finally slows to a stop, and you catch your breath to come to your senses. You can't help the nagging, coherent thought that the ride home had taken a lot longer than usual and you realize the sky is now completely black and littered with stars.

He knew. That fucker knew.

Bucky dismounts the vehicle and stands before you with a hand on his hip and a smug demeanor. You lean forward on your hands, still heaving to try and even out your breath.

"Enjoy the ride?" Bucky taunts, flat lining his lips.

"Fuck-" pant  "-you," you nearly spit. He chuckles darkly. "You were edging me, with a goddamn motorcycle."

He scratches the back of his head. "I might have added a little extra something just for you."

You raise your head. "Why don't we go upstairs and you let me get my revenge?"

He huffs. "What's the point? You already came all over my seat."

"It wasn't your cock," you retort, untangling your wobbly legs from the bike. Bucky reaches out to steady you, pulling you to him by your waist.

"Fair point, pretty girl."

[thevindicativevordan]

Why isn't Nightwing a bigger deal? He has all of Batman's skills and Superman's faith in humanity and is arguably the most beloved hero in the DCU, but most people seem to know him either as the leader of the N̶o̶t̶ ̶J̶L̶ Teen Ttians or just Robin.

Thank you for asking me about Nightwing, I've been wanting to write a piece about him for a while now. The short version is that everyone who claims Dick becoming Nightwing was him "moving out of Batman's shadow and becoming his own man" is completely wrong.

Dick Grayson is a fantastic character, someone who saved Bruce Wayne in-universe both by forcing Batman to grow up a bit, and the countless times he saved Batman's life as his partner whether as Robin or Nightwing. Dick saved Batman in the real world as well, hard to believe but Batman was actually in danger of being cancelled due to poor sales early on. Enter Robin, a young daredevil audience stand in the creators hoped would get kids interested in reading Batman. And it worked! Sales on Batman doubled once Robin showed up which is crazy to think about, but Dick Grayson has always been a popular character. Cartoons like Teen Titans, Batman: The Animated Series, and The Batman only helped grow his audience.

Character-wise, Dick Grayson really does fill a number of crucial roles in the DCU. For Batman, Dick is proof that Batman is a positive force. Meeting Batman helped change Dick for the better, helped him heal after his parents died. With Dick, Batman can take comfort in knowing that yes, he has made a difference in the world for at least one orphan boy, which is all he wanted when he lost his parents himself. To the wider DCU, Dick is a friendly face who convinces others that Batman is competent and not a complete asshole. He took this kid in, trained him to be one of the best heroes the DCU has seen, and did it all out of the kindness of his heart. That someone like Dick can confront the evils of Gotham and not break means there's still hope for that city. As Robin, Dick has led the Titans and is an icon in his own right as The Sidekick, the original, the one every other Robin is built around copying or contrasting. The one all other superhero sidekicks are drawing on as a basis. As Robin Dick Grayson is very much on Batman's level.

Just not as Nightwing. As Nightwing, Dick has been a second rate Daredevil which means he's a third rate Batman (fully prepared to get hate for this but I've read and enjoyed the Miller and Bendis DD runs so I feel entitled to my opinion). A typical Nightwing run tends to go like this: Moving to Bludhaven (which is Gotham... but WORSE!), Dick Grayson usually enrolls in a pointless job we don't care about in order to provide some meaningless soap opera drama that doesn't go anywhere. Patrolling the city as Nightwing, he fights a variety of bad guys who are usually rather lame and unthreatening, with his big bad being a Kingpin knockoff called Blockbuster. Villains are fought, long running plotlines are set up, then everything is abandoned because it's Batfamily event time, and Dick has to run back to Gotham in order to play sidekick again. Usually his involvement is completely superfluous and it would've been better if the writer had gotten to opt out. By the time we finally get back to Nightwing's solo plotlines, the audience has usually ceased to care and the run gets cut short.

That's how Nightwing has been since the New 52 at least. Anyone who thinks that's "becoming their own man" is out of their mind. Dick is so thoroughly in Batman's shadow that he got shot in the head and spent a longer time as "Ric" which everyone fucking hated and sold like shit, than he did as Agent Grayson which was extremely well-received. Reiterating: Ric went on longer than Grayson because of a fucking Batman plotpoint Tom King wanted where Bruce was sad and cut off from the Batfamily because of Dick getting shot. Not just calling out King either, how many times was Kyle Higgins Nightwing run derailed because of Scott Snyder's crossovers? Or how about that entire run getting dumped to the side because Johns wanted to out Dick during Forever Evil, a Justice League/Lex Luthor story? DC has repeatedly made their contempt for Nightwing clear, he's Batman's sidekick still in their eyes, and he serves whatever story role the Batman writer wants.

Hell his best stories tend to have been the ones where he's not Nightwing. He was Robin in a good chunk of the Wolfman/Perez New Teen Titans run. Morrison really showcased his depth as a character when they wrote him as Batman, their time with Dick under the cowl was actually one of the first Batman runs I ever read, and no Nightwing run has ever matched it in terms of quality in my humble opinion. Scott Snyder's work with DickBats also was a high point for the character, showing Dick as competent and examining his relationship with Gotham and the Gordons. King and Seeley gave him one of the best comic runs with Grayson, a series where he wasn't even a "superhero" technically! When it comes to actual pre-New 52 Nightwing runs that are highly recommended where he *is* Nightwing, there's Chuck Dixon and uhhhhhhh... Tomasi's brief run before Dick became Batman? It's not exactly an overwhelming list.

Look there has been good work done with Nightwing, I'm not claiming there hasn't been. Tim Seeley wrote a great run with Nightwing Rebirth. Seeley fleshed out Dick's Rogues Gallery with cool new ones like Raptor, he brought back old foes like Dr. Hurt (why oh why couldn't you have brought back Flamingo too?), he gave Dick's world some character it solely needed. Bludhaven under Seeley is pretty much the only time I've really felt like it lived up to being Dick's city.

The problem with fictional cities is you have to put in the work to give them the character of real cities. You have to make the cities feel like characters in their own right. Gotham is the best example of this, it's a character all it's own, one that tells you a lot about Batman and his cast. In contrast Bludhaven is usually one of the worst. Any place that wants to claim to be worse than the city that is built over the gate to hell and gets wrecked every other month by the Arkham freaks has to really put in the work to compete. Simply put, Bludhaven typically fails utterly. There's nothing about it that makes you really buy it's worse than Gotham, I mean does anyone really think Nightwing's Rogues wouldn't get their lunches eaten by Batman's? No, no one genuinely buys that. When Bludhaven claims to be worse, it just comes across as tryhard, an attribute that does end up telling you about Nightwing in unintentional ways.

So Seeley didn't do that. Instead he created a city built for a hero like Dick Grayson. Someone who is bright and flashy, but does have an element of darkness to him. Someone who loves the spotlight, but often uses it to obscure. Seeley turned Bludhaven into Las Vegas, and that was the fucking best concept for Bludhaven I have ever seen, it makes so much sense. Las Vegas is the "Entertainment Capital of the World" and isn't that the perfect city for a hero who got their start working in the circus? Isn't the aesthetics of the gleaming casinos, the glamorous sex appeal of the performers, and the spectacle of the shows, all being used to cover up the seediness of mob bosses meeting backstage perfect for Nightwing? It's so utterly unlike New York City, yet Las Vegas is still dangerous, it's got a crime culture all it's own. Seeley used it to great effect, as did Humphries during his brief run, and I will always be pissed that DC didn't continue to use it. That should have stuck around and been the definitive look for Bludhaven.

How Seeley's take on Bludhaven was treated feels like a small scale version of how Nightwing in general gets treated. Whenever creators pitched ideas for him, if editorial thought there was potential to break big, they asked for those ideas to be repurposed for Batman instead. Anything big or good gets repurposed for Batman or tossed to the side so Nightwing can go back to his default: having irrelevant adventures in a city that is supposedly worse than Gotham but can't live up to it. Just like how Nightwing is supposedly better than Batman but never gets to show it. Goddamn it's so frustrating seeing his potential get wasted like that.

The Nightwing book should be one of DC's most ambitious books in terms of storytelling. You can go from traditional superhero stories, to romantic soap opera, to spy stories, to crime noir, to horror, to cosmic adventures, and ALL of them would fit because Nightwing is someone who has a foot in both Gotham and Metropolis. He's got friends everywhere on every team, and has been a hero longer than most Leaguers have at this point. No reason DC should still be afraid to let him loose and insisting on hewing close to what Dixon established almost over 30 years ago is only holding him back. At the very least get him some better Rogues, why the hell didn't he get to keep Professor Pyg? That's Dick's villain not Bruce's! Bullshit that they didn't let Dick keep him. Hopefully Flamingo comes back, with a slight revamp I think he'd make a great reoccurring Nightwing Rogue.

Luckily it does look somewhat like Nightwing fans have reason to be optimistic. While Taylor isn't to my taste, DC clearly views him as a "big" writer, and that they put him on Nightwing says a lot. Taylor has been selling well so far, so hopefully he gets to tell his story, hilarious that even he lampshaded having to write Dick running over to Gotham for another tie-in after Taylor's big opening arc was all about Dick committing himself and his money to Bludhaven. Scott Snyder is apparently working on a Black Label Nightwing book which will explore how he's a different detective than Bruce. The Gotham Knights video game has him as one of the main stars, and while Titans is... controversial, it's one of the most popular streaming shows and Dick is the main character. There's a lot of content coming that features him in the starring role, and that will only help his star rise further.

For the first time in, well, ever it feels like DC may be serious about elevating him. Time will tell if it pays off, but I for one choose to be optimistic that the 2020s will be a turning point for Dick Grayson where Nightwing becomes hugely popular in his own right. Not just as Batman's sidekick.

[tiredanvilandmace]

His mind was still spinning. But... It wasn't as... fast. It wasn't as maddening. Although it was still unsettling. Why did he let his mind go to one dark scenario after another? Well... Maybe... Maybe if he let it, it would quiet down enough for him to make sense of himself. To explain to Lev... Or maybe just... Not feel like he would be lying if he said that he was feeling better. A finger... Raised and tentatively touched that spot between Lev's eyebrows. The first and main sign of any shifting in the soldier's mood. And he started moving his finger in a circular motion, almost a massage. "Not a problem." He repeated again. Looking down at the soldier resting so comfortably on his chest.

The son of Poseidon. Lev. His comrade in arms. His Lover... His. Lev... Lev had referred to Nico as his when they faced the witch. And although Nico had been in a... Completely deplorable situation back then... Lev still staked his claim. Nico felt like... They haven't been dancing around the topic... Because... Well... Both have actively been avoiding the topic. And Nico, for once, didn't thin that words were truly necessary until now. It was comfortable. Simple. But still... Again... The forest had put things in perspective to him. And now... A lot of things... Made new sense. And he also knew he wasn't making a lick of sense to Lev. Which... Was funny. In a sense. So obvious to him... And yet..

"You... Well you didn't quite say I'm full of shit but... I wouldn't blame you if you did." He began, the hand that was massaging Lev's eyebrow now lifting the male's chin and holding his gaze. He didn't make use of his italian drawl but... His words were slow. He was biding his time. He was organizing his thoughts. Once they were voiced... He wasn't going back on then. He wasn't quite striving for perfection. But... He did want to make sense and avoid confusion."When I said I wanted this... You, me... Us. Sunset in New Rome... I meant it, you know?" He commented casually, his thumb resting on Lev's lower lip. "But... I can't have it if... If I lose you. I... Can't have it if we don't make it back from the twilight lands." Could Lev feel the way his heart started to speed up, even as he tried to keep himself from panicking or rambling. But yeah... His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest at any point.

"A... Very selfish part of me... Is... Choosing you, Lev. Over... Them. If you'll have me." Over Twilight Lands. Over an entire kingdom that asked for our help. His other hand moved up, combing through Lev's dark locks, brushing them out of the way so he could keep his eye contact with the older male. "I..." Don't get tongue tied now. So close... "I love you, Lev." And I would lose my goddamn fucking mind if I lost you simply because I'm being foolish, impulsive, reckless, stupid... You name it.

if it wasn't a problem, then what was the problem? why was he acting like this? what was he thinking about? was it even something lev knew about? what if he had a secret he didn't tell lev? pffhht. nico not telling him anything, what a joke, but then again .. he was quiet today & lev was still trying to figure out why exactly. nico never … refused to tell him what lev wanted… no, needed to hear. this one time lev needed him to share…. he didn't. or rather, only bits & pieces that seemed to not make a lick of sense. at least not in their current situation.

"told ya." it wasn't like lev had been very subtle about his annoyance about nico's carelessness, but at this point… he'd somewhat accepted it - like nico had to accept lev's foul moods or something. they both came with baggage, with quirks… with… stuff they didn't like about each other, surely. but that wasn't reason to give up, so ..what was it? "but that ain't news, so what's the problem? i… ain't stupid. what's botherin' ya?" because lev could handle a lot of things, he could take beatings, he could curse up a storm if nico deserved it, but this silence… was eerie. it worried him more than … he thought it would, which made his requests for nico to shut up a little funnier in hindsight.

still, he just wanted to know what he was thinking. or where this way going. soft kiss to nico's jaw, letting his lips linger, though he retreated again & got comfortable on the blacksmith's chest - assuming.. this would take a while with the amount of information he got per pull.

[jiminrings]

OKAY LISTEN idk if someone or you already planned sth like this but how about y/n finally decides to confess/tell jk but someone else claims to be her before she could do it so * cue to the angst bc y/n sees the whole thing/she hears from her friends * and ofc koo eventually finds out bc that b*tch doesn't even have the fucking lunchboxes 😑

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo's the three-peat king for having the best research papers, but he's the worst when it comes to believing the right person

"i think i'm gonna tell him."

you say it to no one in particular, really, but you hear yoongi rISING from his nap on the couch

it wasn't meant to wake him at all

it was just an epiphany of sorts that popped into your head

physically felt as if your head would just bursT if you didn't say it out loud to affirm your own thoughts lmao

"for real???" he's rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, very evident that he wouldn't wake up to finish his thirteen pending assignments but he 10/10 would wake up to hear your epiphany

yoongi is awake for the action!!!! lmao does professor roux from calculus think that he wakes up at the morning and doing shapes (or whatever they teach at calc) is the fIRST thing in his mind????

"interesting," he nods solemnly when you nod your head, reaching out for a fist bump before he plops to your shoulder, "i suggest dressing like a virgin wearing H&M when you confess. it would hit close to home."

yoongi's the touchy affectionate one between the two of you but you'll forgive him bc he's still sleepy

NOOOOOOO

jungkook doesn't look like a virgin wearing H&M :((((

his clothes aren't from there lol

"pass."

"say that you're a top verified contributor both in quora and brainly."

PLEAAAAAASE SJWHSHWHHWV

"nice idea," you snort as yoongs genuinely thinks that it'd get jungkook to propose on the spot, "but no cigar."

"pretend to love big bang theory."

"you're getting onto something here."

"your hobby is fact-checking rick and morty."

"yoongi wow you are on fIRE today-"

"your guilty pleasure is not wearing protective gear during experiments."

"where is this coming from??"

"OH!!!! i'll pretend to mug him or something and you can attack me!!!"

....

??????

yeah yoongi's train of thought just crashed

you were pretty sure he was going on a science theme there wHY DID IT DERAIL

yoongi looks confused because you look confused, as if he didn't just give you the mindblowing idea,, free of charge

lol but no he really didn't

"i'm not doing any of that shit, yoongs."

"oh yeah???" he squints at you and hollows his cheeks, taunting you entertainingly while he worms his way to your lap to nap again

"what are you planning to do?"

holy sHIT this is nerve-wracking

she feels like she's gonna pass out the whole time that she's been rehearsing this in her head

she's been waiting outside the classroom for twenty minutes now and the bell finally rang and she can't believe it!!!! omg is it game-time now

everyone's filing out of the room and she could just feel that jungkook would come out of the room last-

ALRIGHT FUCK THE BELL RANG

you could do this!!!!

everyone's filing out of the room and you know in your heart that jungkook would stay behind, his routine being to politely chat with the professor before he leaves

you're a lil nervous alright

you're scanning the room and there's only a few people left and your eyes instinctively go to the mini desk next to the door and-

FUCK

DID YOU FORGET TO BRING IT HOME YESTERDAY??????

goddamn it

yesterday was when coach jeong was mad because someone from your team just hAD to bring beer!!! and not even have the common sense to put it on a discreet thermos or sth and you know!!!! to not drink it in public or in front of the coach!!!!

doing laps on the oval field will now make you hurl on command just by thinking about it

you physically did not have the cognizance to go and fetch the lunchbox to wash it,,,, or like even move at all

FUCK IT

how are you gonna swipe the lunchbox now? now when the professor's packing up, jungkook's loitering around the classroom, and there's this girl who's-

wait

who's this girl??

who is she and wHY IS SHE EYEING THE LUNCHBOX

fuck it!!! here goes nothing

she's stepping completely into the room and making sure her block heels generate enough clacking,, hands already moving in practiced moments as she attempts in making it seem like she's rushedly putting the lunchbox bag into her tote — as if it's from there, and she's always done this

jungkook hears noises coming from the back of the room, eyes widening before he comes up the stairs in record time

"no. get your own."

he grips the girl's wrist, about to pry off her hands from his lunchbox

he hears her giggle sweetly, the melody being something he's heard before

"i did. after all, i did get you these."

:O

"hyeji?"

hyeji's a pretty girl!!! a nice girl in jungkook's year that wears fit dresses and cartier bangles :D

she stands out really, sometimes literally because she appears in the school's flyers and advertisements

"hyeji," jungkook breathlessly connects the dots including the fact that she looks caught in the act; holding his lunchbox, her tote bag open, and a peek of another completely different lunchbox in her other hand, "i-it's been you this whole time?"

hyeji blushes, sheepishly tucking her perfectly shiny and neat hair behind her ears, "you caught me then."

kook laughs both in nervousness and giddiness, pushing his glasses up and suddenly conscious that he should've worn contacts, "b-but how? we don't share this class."

:O

hyeji bursts into a giggle, blushed cheeks staining further than the five minutes she tried getting the perfect amount

"r-right! kinda amazing what depths you'd go for a person you like, hm?"

jungkook is about to pass out

HE'S PUT IN A SITUATION

a situation that he likes and is too giddy to find a reply for

he apparently doesn't need a reply, because a chair scrapes harshly against the floor and it brings him down to reality immediately

you cannot fucking believe what you just witnessed

you stand abruptly from the seat you've been frozen in with a great deal of urgency because you cAN'T stand to be in this room any longer

they actually forgot that the two of them aren't alone

that you're still here

little miss hyeji's just as shocked

you feel stupid and even more stupid that you're still holding a stupid notebook you even decorated

it has a doodle in the front and all the remaining pages are of the copies you've replicated on jungkook's sticky notes — the same ones you've been trying to make perfect just for him

"y/n!" he sputters when your backpack accidentally leans too much to your side and hits him on the way out

"move."

you’re feeling everything but fine and god you just hated that you always willed yourself to move oN

you’re beyond mad when you put on your jersey!!!

you’re irrevocably dejected when you put on your cleats!!!!

you feel cheated on when you zip up your duffel and walk all the way to the field!!!

it’s a combination of the type of frustration that makes you want to move plus the type that paralyzes you, the whole thing unlike anything you’ve ever felt before

you’re clearly in your head and frankly, you’re just too good

too good that there's no game at all because the only thing happening is you scoring

there's no passing going on or the sort

everyone is just :O looking at their captain to be in the most furiously determined state that they’ve ever seen you in

you don’t even realize that you’re the oNLY one moving in the whole field

“alright, alright — jesus christ! go to the bench and sort your head out, captain,” coach jeong literally has to JOG over to your spot to jolt you

oh there he is again

jaehyun just had to bench you didn’t he

sometimes it’s lost on you that jaehyun, just like seokjin, used to be your senior

he hated juniors with a burning passion and you’re the ONLY one he’s taken a tolerance for

((you lent him your umbrella and it coincidentially had to be a bad day for him tHEN that made him like you))

you’re having none of it though because this time, you’re the one who has the bad day and the captain title does nothing to appease you

“sure, coach.”

you mumble just as lively and walk to completely the fURTHEST side of the bleachers, being so far out that you could barely see your team

what are you supposed to do? simmer in the thoughts you so badly didn’t want to have in silence??????

"y/n?"

the voice you least expected to hear perks up right next to you

what the hell is jungkook doing here now??

he looks lost, two hands clinging onto his backpack straps before tentatively looking at you again

“did i do anything to upset you?”

so he wants to ask that?

you snort automatically, suddenly wishing that you didn’t walk this far because you can’t make an excuse that jaehyun’s calling for you

"because my bag accidentally hit you on the way out? no, jungkook."

jungkook knits his brows in question, seemingly take offense to what you’ve just said to hom

"we're not exactly associated for me to be mad at you, are we?" you emphasize even further, not caring the least bit that your words have an edge to them

he deadpans, pursing his lips before sarcastically smiling at you

".... so you're upset at me?"

://

jungkook takes your silence for him to delve further, not paying attention to how your eye is begging to twitch at him

"i asked if i did anything to upset you, and you said no. but that doesn't necessarily mean you aren't. you could be upset at me even if i didn't do anything to you."

wow

you sound like a real fucking nerd jungkook

"do you have any idea how condescending you sound right now?"

kook barely has a solid inch on you yet the nagging feeling that he’s belittling you makes you grip your fists tight, posture wavering

"so you do admit that you're upset at me?"

he’s not the most patient person either but something about you and the situation right now just makes him tick a little faster

your eyes narrow at what he’s aiming to get at, your hand on your hip feeling heavy at this point

"what does it matter to you if i'm upset or not? we are not-"

"i am associated to you!!! even to a degree!!! you walked me home!"

jungkook is the one who breaks first and he doesn’t look fazed to have opposed you so loudly, still standing by himself

"i would walk anyone home."

"no you wouldn't-"

"i would walk anyone who was as vulnerable and as anxious as you were, jungkook!!"

it is true

you’d walk anyone home within reason regardless if they were jungkook or not!!!

the guy in question only looks at you straightly, brows not stubborn but still just as unrelaxed

:((

"good to know. then you're not upset at me, and i didn't do anything to upset you."

"sure."

you only say just to spite him, about to turn your back and leave him completely to go back to your practice game

jungkook surprises you again and flips a switch just as quick as your mini argument of sorts escalated

"anyways!! i'm sorry for being a little off when i interviewed you that day. i got a 100 on that assignment, by the way :))"

what?

what’s he still doing here?

he’s talking about his grades and whatnot to you as if literally twenty seconds ago did nOT happen!!

"why are you still-"

"and the one who's been giving me my lunchboxes confessed to me today!! for hyeji to be the girl giving me them, it makes perfect sense."

you shrug away the weirdness that jungkook’s moved on from the argument as fast as this, trying a take two for a peaceful conversation

this time, you’re the one who unknowingly flips a switch at her name — something so foreign and sudden yet something you quickly grew to hate

"i wouldn't be so trusting if i were you."

that seems to hit a nerve on him again, making him scoff in reply

"good thing you aren't me then."

what is ON with him????

"watch it. i'm your senior, kid."

you’re more irritated than the first and second time around that you’ve been agitated this day

"why? are you normally this self-absorbed that you wouldn't trust a girl who's confessed??"

self-absorbed?

you aren’t the most selfless person ever but god do you know for a fact that you’re not vain as jungkook’s insisting you to be

you hate him.

you hate this version of him that isn’t the same jungkook you’ve known to like ever since the start of the semester

"same thing as polygraphs not being a hundred percent reliable. anyone could tell the truth as long as you ask the wrong questions," you detail on further because jungkook loves details, right? might as well give him several

"or did you even ask?"

jungkook scowls as if you’ve insulted his mother and his entire lineage, face contorting into everything but warm

"what does it matter to you? didn't you just tell me that we aren't associated? why are you projecting all your moaning on hyeji?"

WHAT

WHAT????

"you know what? maybe i am associated to you. i think i'd also tell this to everyone i'd walk home — maybe you shouldn't be too trusting, huh? maybe you shouldn't just let anyone walk you home."

the tears this time are more insistent to come out this time but you’d rather dIE than for jungkook to stain your pride like this

"no one should walk me home, besides you? is that what you're trying to say?"

no!!

for fuck's sake you aren't even finished with your point!!

before you could continue, jungkook shakes his head at you — the most disappointing shake of his head that it curses you soft

"what am i even doing? you wouldn't understand."

he closes the distance that’s been alarmingly shorter throughout the whole time, jungkook being the one to break it

"because no one gives you lunchboxes. no one exerts effort in making you cheerful — no one wants to go the extra mile for you, and no one wants to walk you home."

he's insulting you right to your face and that’s when your dam breaks, lips quivering impossibly as you stare him down with a genuinely pained gaze you didn’t know you carried

"you wouldn't know what i feel, because no one likes you."

jungkook gets the last word in.

he leaves you in the same field he's first approached you in nervousness.

today, he leaves it differently.

sweat isn't the only thing on your face but instead it’s the frustrating hot tears you haven’t had in awhile

your fists are balled but there's no power to the anger behind it

you’re almost always alone outside the company of the closest friends you’ve ever had — but this is the only time that you truly felt that you are alone.

today's a good day to give up on jungkook.

[ayamturd]

end│dreamwastaken

summary: dream was once your everything that you would do anything for; what happens when you finally confront the reality of his manipulation and sadistic destruction?

prompt: “we’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price.” 

warnings: descriptive manipulation, a single curse word, angst

pairing: in-game c!dream

a/n: this is my entry for @sleepysoupi​‘s 1.8k event! it goes without saying how late i am considering she’s currently working on her 2.0k event, but still a huge congratulatory to her amazing success and obvious, well deserved recognition <33 we love soupi in this household, nothing less of the fact *^*

also i know the prison doesn’t work exactly like how i wrote it, but let’s pretend for the sake of this fic

wc: (1.6k) - m.list

“Don’t do this, y/n.”

The air was sticky and heavy. As the lava bubbled behind you, it felt as if the heat could reach out and smother you entirely; the subtle warmth that felt insufferably suffocating in the tight space was a large contrast to the dark, opaque walls. 

Although you stood in front of him by your own desire, habits quickly fell to place as he stood proudly above you. Chin raised, Dream’s shoulders were relaxed while he spoke to you. His words were firm, and with clenched fists, you swallowed harshly from his mocking tone. 

You could practically hear his condescending grin without looking in how belittling he addressed you, and you hated how familiar the speech was. 

“After all I’ve done for you, and you want to throw it all away?”

Despite all attempts, you unconsciously bowed your head down. Whether in unjustified guilt or the internal rage from his lies, you couldn’t say yourself. He noticed nonetheless, and played into your vulnerability further. 

He was the one defenseless in this scenario, yet he held all the power in the small cage between the two of you. 

“We made promises! ‘Till the very end, right?!” He began to raise his voice and feigned some form of heartbreak, taking a step dangerously closer to you while you stood there in frozen fear.

Staring harshly down at your feet, the weight of gravity pulled at your tears as they trickled down sparsely. This was different than when you originally confronted him mere hours ago. Here, you were alone and with no backing, no one to reassure you that you did the right thing. That he was a monster that had you blinded for so long.

That you were justified for betraying Dream. 

“Don’t play stupid with me now. You can’t act like I did this all alone. That I’m not the only sick fuck in the room who enjoys the-”

“Stop it,” you whispered with closed eyes. While your voice was small, it echoed so loudly and threw Dream off guard. He shook his head and with a dark chuckle, sneered disparagingly. 

“You really th-”

Your eyes opened as you unexpectedly interrupted him.

“No. For once in my life, I mean it. Shut your egotistical mouth for one goddamn second.”

Everything was in a frozen stand still as you snapped. 

Course tears ran steadily down your cheeks, yet your eyes held more strength than Dream could had ever perceived in that moment. It had been so long since you had lost your voice. Lost your confidence, your fire that drew him in in the first place. It had been so long since you felt like yourself again, the person you once were before he teared you down completely to his mercy. 

You swallowed sternly in exposed anxiety; when was the last time you saw his face like this? Saw his face at all, at that. 

The molten lava radiated the room, it being the main source of light in contrast to the faint glow of the lanterns built into the walls. When you had originally requested to see him one final time before he was officially locked away for good, you had no idea what you expected to see. You didn’t see anything, actually, since you couldn’t bring yourself to try and meet his eye line the entire time. 

Until now. 

As the magma shaded the room in a warm shine, his dull eyes gleamed a faded hue of ash green. His dirty blond hair was visible without his signature hoodie, his previous clothes stripped away and replaced with an attired uniform instead. He hid behind a mask for so long, it was surreal to see him as something so mundane and human.

Your mouth felt so dry from seeing him again. He almost looked like when you first laid eyes on him, that beautiful day when you thought you had fallen in love. How nice the sun felt, and how crisp the wind blew. The summer day was fresh and the sweet smell of honey pervaded the air. To think it was by mere chance he approached you in the white flower field, hidden in the depths of the forest with a charming smile and gentle hand.

How cruel reality liked to play with you and give you false hope that such love could truly exist. 

The memory brought a smoldering rage that made your heart race in return. Back straight, you dared a step towards him with a quiet, yet firm declaration. 

“I’m done making excuses for your lies. For your actions, for the hurt you cause, for you.”

Dream could barely register your words as you continued in growing fury. It was like the floodgates were open and you felt free to speak your truth. 

You were riding this new found wave and would hold nothing back anymore. 

“I let you get away with so much because I truly believed that I loved you. That my love could fix you, or change what you are.”

You stepped forward again, your finger shakily pointed at him. His mouth opened to respond but you spoke before he could try. You weren’t going to give him anything, you thought, he doesn’t deserve your silence.

“I went against everything I believed!” you suddenly yelled, “everything I stood for, everything I thought because of you!”

Your vision was a blur as your raw emotions came loose. You screamed from the top of your lungs to the point where your voice cracked with a head lifted high. 

“I let people get hurt! People I love and care for because I prioritized you over everything I had!”

Another step forward, your voice shook with quivered lips as a result of an ached and long scorned heart.

“To think I used to be so proud to say it, to say you were my everything and my world.” With a trembled exhale, you gathered yourself before finishing your thought. “Maybe I am stupid, but trust me when I say my ignorance was your freedom and my considered love a blind devotion.”

Dream’s face softened considerably, for he was at a loss for words and didn’t have anything to probe at anymore. It was his turn to suffer in a lost acceptance.

“I…”

Shaking your head, you scoffed with your head tilted in disbelief. Smiling darkly, you knew then and there you regained the power of the room and your self-assurance over him. How the turn tables.

“Funny how things change when you have no where to run. When you’re the one helpless and reliant.”

Standing strong with your arms crossed, you stared at him with such distaste. Dream’s brows furrowed with a clench jaw as he stepped even closer to you. He was now mere inches away and glared down at you from his given height. Even then, you wouldn’t back down any longer.

“I do love you, y/n. Everything I did, I did for us. You can’t leave me like this.” He gazed down with such intensity that your past you would have wanted to say something just to appease him entirely; you weren’t that person anymore, and you wouldn’t let him drag you down more than he already has. 

Dropping yours arms before stepping back, you messaged Sam without wavering your eye contact from him. 

“We’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price of it alone.”

The sounded mechanics from outside the box indicated the lava dropping, signifying the end of your visit. Dream grew agitated at the thought of you leaving and dropped his eyes down in resent, a huge contrast to your relaxed and calm state. 

You moved backwards until your back threatened to be burned by the heat. 

“Here’s to loosing all those attachments you mentioned.”

Dream’s head snapped up from your words, but before he could attempt anything further, the Netherite divider rose and separated you both. The lava parted as you approached the platform, Sam visible from across the entrapping moat. He watched closely in regard to your safety and anything Dream might try with your back currently turned. 

Approaching the stone platform once deemed safe, you turned to face him a final time as the contraption slowly pulled you away. Your chin was raised, and your tears were dry in satisfaction to your found closure.

“You were right,” you affirmed, “we did make promises, and this is our end.”

Bonus:

Tommy had been tormenting Dream for the past few minutes or so, his obnoxious taunts a sign of recovery from all the trauma he had dealt with from his young age. He hid behind his humor, but was strong when confronting his abuser with no uncertainty then. 

“Who do you miss the most?”

Dream paused from fiddling with the leather of the book covers from the simple question. His hand began to curl around the thick material, and he drowned out Tommy’s rambling from behind him.

A familiar scent filled his senses, an old and precious memory uncovered from the oppressed depths of his mind. He pulled the book in hand open to a random, but intentional page, his callous fingers tracing over the stained ink.

He wasn’t an artist, and it easily would have been passed for messy, nonsense doodles, yet the drawing practically burned the paper as a reminder of his failed objectives.

The innocent azure bluets insulted him despite being his own creation.

Dream was done playing into Tommy’s confidence, and spoke lowly as his head turned further away from the boy.

“… I think you should go, Tommy."