#like on one hand i feel lucky for being white passing because it makes them less likely to like

[viaviavie]

Ok sorry I caught the brain worms and now I have to share them with you. I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes and what not. I’m not a writer, I strongly prefer reading, and English is my second language. So feel free to ignore my ramblings.

So. Your “A painted white rose, still so red” fic. Wonderful thing. Love that Ace was dreaming about all of the horrors that would happen to him and his friends. And Yuu the one that is trapped in a time loop doomed to repeat every overbolt until they survive / make sure everyone else gets out unscathed.

That’s all well and good but… Ace and Yuu aren’t the only ones that have to face each overbolt.

Deuce always knew he wasn’t the smartest academically. Seven he’s barely passing his exams with the help of his house warden. But he isn’t dense enough to not notice his best friends weird behaviors.

He has caught Ace multiple times pulling the Prefect away from the group to talk to them in private. That in and of itself wouldn’t be so weird if they didn’t insist on him taking Grim for a minute while they talked. The others brushed this off but for some reason it stuck with Deuce.

This proved useful as during a lecture one of their classmates decided to mess around and almost blow up the classroom. Due to Ace and the Prefects quick thinking a majority of the damage was prevented.

Deuce always knew he wasn’t as smart as the Prefect or as annoyingly cunning as Ace. That didn’t keep him from being impressed by how prepared his friends seemed whenever disaster struck. It’s almost as if they knew it was going to happen.

He really starts to suspect something was up once the Prefect sent him an SOS in the middle of winter break. Once he met up with Ace to return to NRC to check up on them Ace was beside himself. Constantly checking his phone for any updates or always mumbling something about Snakes for some reason. Whenever Deuce tried to ask him what’s wrong or what Ace meant by that he’d always get waved off and or ignored.

When they finally, finally made it back to NRC and found the Prefect chilling with the Octavinelle Trio and the Scarabia dorm Deuce was confused. Ace on the other hand pushed past the crowd of people without another thought, on the way glaring at the Vice-House Warden of Scarabia.

(Why would Ace glare at someone he’s never even met before?) Deuce doesn’t need to wait long for an explanation to come, because it appears in the form of two familiar eals that explain that surprise, surprise another overbolt happened. (But how would Ace know that?)

Deuce knows what it’s like to have secrets you would rather not share with anyone. Really he understands. After all he also has things he only shares with his best friends if at all. But as he watches Ace and the Prefect reunite after all the stress of the past week he can’t help but feel hurt as he realizes that his best friends don’t trust him enough to keep their secret.

in reference to this post

ugh you just smashed my heart with an anvil— i love how it aches :)

(but i loved your rambling and your english was great! do drop by with those ramblings of your sometime, i adore it :DDDD )

Poor Deuce. A part of Ace thinks that Deuce is lucky that he isn't plagued with such nightmares, but never stops to consider that his best friend has his own inner turmoil. Ace, Deuce, the Prefect— they were always supposed to be a trio. And yet, this friendship has grown into a triangle, and Deuce sits at a point where his two friends had grown further and further away.

This weird sense of distant doesn't catch his eye in every loop. When Deuce feels out of place, however, it threatens to make him angry. There were certainly times when he has wanted to fight Ace for an answer, especially when he knows when Ace is lying straight to his face when the redhead was clearly bothered. Deuce never exactly confronts you, though. The Prefect has grown so tired of reacting and making mistakes to the point that you're just going through the motions sometimes.

To twist the knife even further, Ace and the Prefect never communicate about what is being foreseen in most loops until it's too late. Now, you have three different people tugging and pulling at one another to avoid the worst possible endings. Ace, who tries to prevent those Bad Ends from happening. The Prefect, who is still searching for more options and routes to take to survive the next overblot. And then there's Deuce, who cannot see ahead of the script and is forced to play along with the messes that Ace and the Prefect make. Ace would never confide in Deuce because he won't consider the idea that someone will believe in his crazy story. The Prefect can never confide in Deuce because it hurts to see him try to find a solution.

Nonetheless, no matter how hurt Deuce gets, his care for his best friends never change. Even when it ended with him hurt or dead in some loops, Deuce trusts both of you, even when the truth is something he would never hear.

That being said, I still think about the scene that I cut from the original. Contrary to what Ace thought, Deuce would have definitely trusted that Ace was telling the truth. That was why Deuce breaks out two blastcycles and was more than willing to help row a boat to get the Prefect as far away from the campus as possible during the events of book 7. You could only imagine how heartbroken Prefect was to reawaken back in that coffin, knowing that all the love that Deuce and Ace poured into you was now lost.

The Prefect has watched Ace and Deuce care for you for over a hundred loops now. There are time loops where the Prefect pushes aside those failures and puts up that smile as the process repeats itself again. There are also those time loops where the Prefect cries and cannot explain why when Ace and Deuce come to the rescue in the mines.

[semperamans]

I can’t stop thinking about protective Benny ugh

me too, doll. me fuckin' too.

this can be triggering for some as there are mentions of unwanted contact and violence, so im gonna ask that you read only if you feel up for it!

he just wants to know who did it, s'all. that's what he tells you as he wipes your tears. "d'you know what they looked like, mm?" he's got his palms pressed against your cheeks, bent down practically on his knees in front of you. "remember anythin' at all, baby?" and you don't know :( not really. there are hundreds of bikers gathered in this forgotten field somewhere outside of chicago, all of them so fucked that they hardly know their name, and you thought you were safe standing at the fire with the wives and girlfriends while benny went to take a piss but no. your back had been turned when you felt the brush of an unfamiliar hand over the swell of your ass, smelled the offensive odor of a mouth that hadn't seen a toothbrush in god knows how long, heard the indecent words spiked with whiskey and ill-intent and benny just wants to know but you're sobbing these big wet sobs that he can't seem to get under control.

"he was- he had-" you're all start and no finish and benny just wants to put you in his pocket where no one can get you :( but he can't :( so he just brings you closer, presses your head against his chest, and lets you cry until you finally have the coherence to tell him about the spider tattoo on the assailant's hand. and okay, now benny knows and great, you're starting to calm down a bit. he consoles you, doesn't tell you it's okay because it's not but he is here. "m'right here. okay? feel me, honey. c'mon, give me your hands." he rubs your fingers over his cheeks, they're so soft, then you explore the coarse hair of his beard "m'right here. s'okay. nothin' is gonna happen to you." down his nose, across his jacket, venturing toward the studs that make out his intials and now you're more present just breathlessly hiccuping and latched onto the dingy white shirt benny wears beneath his cut. "need you to sit with johnny for me, okay? i gotta go take care of somethin'." johnny doesn't ask what happened because benny has that look in his eyes and he knows he'll be making a trip to county later if he's lucky or the pen if benny kills the guy, but that's just fine. johnny takes you, wrapping an arm over your shoulder, allowing you to hide your face in his neck because even in your state you know benny is about to make a scene. "m'gonna be back. okay? promise. stay with johnny. he's not gonna let nothin' happen to you."

time drips on in that sluggish, anticipatory way and you're practically asleep by the time benny returns. he no longer wears a shirt, just his denim vest that's splattered with blood and those worn levis with the knees practically blown out. you sit up so quickly it makes you dizzy. "s'alright." benny assures you, hands up in a placating way. oh, there's his shirt torn to shreds and being used as bandages for his no doubt destroyed knuckles. "gotta get outta here, yeah?" johnny helps you stand, passing your hand to benny's so so gently. "you're gonna stay with me tonight. need you call your momma and let her know you won't be makin' it home." and you don't go home. you spend the rest of the night latched onto benny like a woebegone infant and he doesn't mind in the slightest. “m’sorry, baby. won’t let nothin’ like that happen again.”

[kumkaniudaku]

Askew

Summary: Terry makes good on a promise.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: SMUT (18+)

Previous: At Last: Part Two

“I’m gonna fuck the glasses off your face tonight. Okay?” 

A simple sentence. No fanfare. No lingering touch or a suggestive look. Not even a repeat of his matter-of-fact declaration despite the words nearly being lost to the pockets of conversation in Corey’s kitchen during a rowdier than usual Friendsgiving gathering. Terry calmly whispered the plain statement into Patrice’s ear as he passed by on the way out of the door to join the other men in the backyard. 

Patrice tried to appear unphased while she sipped from her plastic cup of white wine. “Now?”

“I’ll let you know.” 

He’d made up his mind to have her babbling incoherent sentences while he bent her over the living room couch before they could make it out of the house, but holding in his little secret had proven difficult. Terry wished he could blame it on the tequila shots or the haze of weed smoke blown out of mouths far too federally employed to still be dabbling with the plant. Either would be an acceptable lie because the truth was too trivial to share. It was the North Carolina A&T crew neck and black cat-eye glasses Patrice had chosen to sport for the night. His mind dreamt up all the times he’d missed her studying for exams in the sweater a hair too large, and glasses that made her look like a professor during office hours while she bounced around the room making small talk with people he hardly recognized. His social butterfly moving her lips a mile a minute when all he wanted to do was feel those lips on every square inch of his body.

Terry needed her in the worst way. The bathroom might’ve sufficed. Maybe even the backseat of his truck. But neither option provided the sound insulation he needed to fulfill his raging desire. He’d need the privacy of their home and a TV turned all the way up to avoid disturbing the neighbors. 

The signal to leave came with a quick tap on Patrice’s hip in the middle of a spirited talk with her best friend, Vicky, about something he couldn’t care less about. 

“I guess that’s my cue, girl,” Patrice laughed, trying to play her role as the chatty wife being called away by her quiet husband. “Talk to you later?” 

Their exit featured hurried goodbyes and promises to return for the Christmas game night that they likely wouldn’t remember come daylight. Hands fumbled with keyfobs and door handles in their mad dash to somewhere a little more secluded. Blue lights from the dashboard reflected from Patrice’s glasses as they made out in front of their childhood friend’s house like maniacs, too intoxicated with lust to care if someone saw them from the open front door. 

One hand on the steering wheel and the other middle and ring fingers deep in warm pussy had Terry breaking speed limits and running stop signs to turn a twenty-minute journey into ten if he were lucky. 

They didn’t waste time with light switches or picking up discarded clothing on the clumsy journey to the bedroom. A split second of clarity told Terry to flip on the lamp as Patrice made the descent to his dick one sloppy kiss on his chest and stomach at a time. 

“What you got for me?” 

More than he’d bargained for should’ve been the answer had she taken the time to use her mouth for anything more than making his muscled thighs tense like he’d been tased. 

With a pillow folded between her legs while she lay on her stomach and eyes looking up at Terry over the rim of her spectacles, Patrice put on an oral demonstration fit for a professional. Her glasses fogged from the cold air and steamy situation unfolding on their marital bed. 

The corners of her mouth stinging from the stretch of him and the ache building in her core kept her tethered to reality when she wanted to escape into the pleasure of seeing her man so vulnerable from her touch. 

He hissed and cursed as she ran a flat tongue on the underside of his dick. “Fuck, girl. I knew I’d get all of this up out you one day. Damn…” 

Gobbsmacked. Astounded. Sucked into oblivion. Terry had transcended time and space once Patrice made a home for him at the back of her throat over and over again. Spit coated her hands, chin, and his lap while she focused on leaving him too stupefied to utter anything that had more than one syllable. She could’ve swiped every dollar from his wallet, bank account, and retirement fund and he’d still thank her for inviting him into her mouth. 

Low groans and rough requests for more sounded like applause as Patrice went to work on her lover. His approach to the mountaintop matched hers as she desperately searched for friction from the pillow below her. 

“Hell yeah, like that, baby. You know what you doin’. Shit.” Praise came in heeps. Her silk press had long turned into reigns for Terry to keep her head stable. Tears mixed with saliva for extra lubrication. She looked gorgeous under amber light to her husband. 

Up and down, up and down. Take it. Gargle it down. Breathe through your nose. Looping mantras played in her head as he took control to finish what she’d started.  

His release came in a photo finish. His toes curled from pure ecstasy. Body seized up in beautiful suspension, each bulging muscle in his arms and torso on display. Head thrown back to direct his loud moan to the ceiling. Eyeballs rolled behind fluttering lids. Kids drained down the hatch, never to reach their full potential. 

She cleaned up the remnants with her tongue, splitting her attention between Terry and the building orgasm as she swiveled her hips against firm cotton. He stared down at her, taking in the way her jaw dropped to form that ‘o’ he loved so much. Her brow furrowed once her teeth took hold of her bottom lip. 

“That feel good to you, baby?” 

“Mhmm.” Patrice tried to give a more accurate description of her mind state. All she could manage was a slurred hum in the affirmative while he watched her unravel at the seams without his help. 

“Show me. I wanna watch.” 

And watch he did. Dick in hand and back pressed against the headboard, Terry used his refractory period to watch Patrice turn his pillow into her personal fuck toy. Her hips bucked slowly under his attention while she searched for her first eruption. 

His stroke matched her movements blow for blow while she admired her lone audience member. Siren eyes and a confident smirk, hands kneading bountiful breasts, and his name rolling from her lips kept him engrossed in her one-woman show. 

The inevitable approached like a crashing wave against a calm shore. “Let me cum for you, Terrence. Can I do that? Tell me.” 

Patrice knew the trouble she’d started. Using his first name, and asking for permission, it was all to elicit the reaction Terry so eagerly provided. He scrambled to his knees for the chance to hover over her with his forehead pressed so tightly against hers that they shared pools of sweat. 

Intense blue-green eyes peered down at her, wordlessly edging her closer to paradise. 

“Nuh uh, eyes up here,” Patrice instructed when the view of quaking thighs and waxed lower lips became too distracting for Terry. “Tell me when, my love. I’m all yours.” 

Her voice climbed, sounding like a symphony to his ears. He waited and watched until she met the brink of too much stimulation. “Now. Right now.” 

A rush of emotions forever intertwining two bodies flowed between them through a kiss dominated by silky tongues and Patrice’s swallowed mewls. Terry had perfected the art of kissing. Knowing when to suck at her bottom lip, when to wrap his large hand around Patrice’s throat to keep her head angled upward, and when to pull away for other pursuits. 

Normally, hickeys were childish evidence of adult activities, but tonight they were trophies for a job well done. 

“I love you so much.” Even in furious fucking where feelings took a backseat to more carnal desires, Terry refused to miss an opportunity to utter his favorite phrase. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, letting his tongue trace the outline of her areola to his heart’s content before pulling away to show the other the same attention. He listened to her sigh and smiled. “I love the way you sound.” 

“What else?” 

A lick up her sternum before a kiss. “I love the way you say my name.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I love your body. You’re perfect.” An open-mouthed kiss at the base of her neck as he gripped her waist. “I love the way you take dick. Especially tonight. Think you can take some more for me, pretty?”

Like a magnet, Terry’s fingers found their way to Patrice’s slick inner lips as he gathered wetness to drag skilled digits around her clit. Her breath audibly hitched from the contact, making him chuckle with his lips pressed against her cheek. Slow circles, maddeningly slow and gentle enough to feel like nothing at all had her willing to agree to just about anything to get off.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Terry didn’t say much. It wasn’t his nature. Only short, honey-sweet directions for Patrice to press her chest to crumpled sheets and spread her knees wide. He made it so easy to comply. So easy to contort herself into any position he wanted because she knew what awaited her on the other side. 

He had her at his mercy. Her sat ass high up in the air with her flower on display from a gloriously deep arch. Terry felt an animalistic switch flip to remind him of his promise. Pupils dilated and reinvigorated by the lewd image manifesting at his fingertip, he went to work. 

A relentless pounding. Punishing strokes that made the bed creak from the stress of it all. The sheer force knocked Patrice’s glasses askew without an opportunity for adjustment. She could only claw at the foot of the bed and push her hips back into his to match the rhythm. 

The sound of smacking skin and mixed moans created a soundtrack for rabid, desperate fucking. His thumbs left impressions on the delicate skin of her back, turning his knuckles white as he dug deeper. 

Patrice took every inch like only she could, earning a rough smack as appreciation. 

“That’s my girl,” Terry gritted through clenched teeth. “Stay with me. I feel you.” 

It was all too much. The angle. The vision of Terry’s chest clenching and releasing for exertion as Patrice looked back at him. The way his brows knitted in concentration. The scent of his cologne wafted with every move. His tattoos glistened under dim lights.

“Oh my God!” 

Early sparks of a white-hot release turned Patrice into putty, forcing Terry to hold her close. 

One hand between her legs and the other putting soft pressure on the sides of her neck kept Patrice and Terry tethered on their quest for joint waves.

“I love you.” 

“I need you.” 

“You feel so good inside me.” 

“Kiss me. Please.”

“Cum for me.”

Terry sank his teeth into Patrice’s shoulder as she clenched around him, no longer able to contain himself inside her. Shared euphoria. A once in a blue moon experience that neither of them had encountered. 

Moans became indistinguishable. Eyelids clamped shut as hips sputtered. Glasses tumbled from the bed to the floor, having served their purpose. Bodies wrapped themselves around the other until they were spent, toppled over, and basking in the feel of each other. 

“Good job, baby.” Terry praised, his voice soothing her mind while his hands rubbed the peaks and valleys of Patrice’s hips and thighs while they lay on their sides. He couldn’t bring himself to pull out, too engrossed in the subtle aftershocks deep inside her body. “You okay? Talk to me.”

Patrice breathed out a delirious laugh as she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I can’t see! I can’t believe you fucked me blind. You’re insane.” 

“How much time you got tonight? I got some shit I been wanting to do to you for a long time.” 

“Like what?” 

Whispers of new positions and marathon lovemaking made the hairs on her arms stand at attention. A second promise had entered the mix. 

They’d make a baby or spend the rest of the night and into the morning trying. 

---

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[myhappylittlesideblog]

Gotch-yer Back

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Violence, Walker death, other TWD character death (Amy), Daryl being a bit of a jerk and then fixing it, let me know if there's anything else! Basically what seems to be regular TWD fanfic warnings. Also I believe this is only Fem!Reader because he calls Reader "girl."

Summary: A retelling of the night walkers attack at the quarry and how you and Daryl help each other deal with the aftermath.

You tried to remember the last time you’d eaten fish. It had been a while, a few weeks maybe? A few long weeks forcing yourself to eat squirrel or a rabbit if you were lucky. Or if you were unlucky, even snake. You’d eat whatever was caught if you were hungry enough, or simply to stay alive another day.

Fish was a delicacy these days. The girls- Amy and Andrea had caught a load of them in the quarry. It was white fish which had always been your favorite. It was easy to cook and fell apart in yummy flakes. Hell, you didn’t even need a fork.

It was hot in your mouth and the heat of the meal radiated in your belly. The group chewed and chattered while you were lost in your own thoughts. Your mother used to make a great dish when you lived with her. Cod with a breading on top that was made with Ritz crackers. You missed her. You missed her cooking. You wondered where she was now-

Everyone laughed suddenly and the sound made you jump.

“William Faukner,” Dale said, smiling.

Lori reached over Carl and rested a comforting hand on your arm. Understanding glowed in her eyes in the firelight. Loud noises always made you nervous these days.

By the time you saw the pan of fish that had been passed around, the last filet was being pulled out of it by a stabbing fork.

“Shouldn’t we save some?” you asked Lori. “The guys’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll catch some more tomorrow,” Andrea said to you, catching your attention from a few seats down.

“Yeah,” Amy said. “We’re pros.” 

Despite the light conversation, Lori looked grim. You and her seemed to be the only people worried about the men who’d gone off to find Merle and the bag of guns that was left in the street in Atlanta. She had her arm around Carl as he munched and grinned at Dale. You couldn’t imagine how she was feeling about her husband’s return, nevermind his volunteering to lead the charge back into one of the most dangerous places in this new age. He’d just gotten back. It was written all over her face as she gazed into the flames of the fire.

You weren’t a fan of Merle. In fact, you disliked him thoroughly. The pit in your gut surrounding his abandonment had nothing to do with his safety, or his life, but with Daryl’s. You weren’t even sure if you liked the younger Dixon either. He seemed to follow too closely in his brother’s footsteps to be safe or dependable. Or even nice. But you did respect him. After all, he’d helped to keep you safe and almost single handedly kept the group fed with his hunting and tracking skills. 

Still, no. He wasn’t very nice.

You had a feeling, however, that you had his respect in return. It only took a few crude remarks from Merle for you to fire back at him with enough force to keep him off your back for a few days. Daryl apparently hadn’t been too far away that day and had heard your reply to Merle’s degrading comments. 

“Impressive,” he’d said. “For a quiet girl.”

The next time Merle got colorful with his words towards you, Daryl was the one to take the heat for you. Told his brother to quit it. Since then, your relationship with the older Dixon was extremely minimal and even when it was forced, he left you alone.

Though you wouldn’t have missed Merle one bit, you watched Daryl take the news of his desertion when the cop- Rick- told him what had happened on the supply run. While you of course expected fury from Daryl, you hadn’t expected such emotion to fly out of him. He was a wrecking ball of threats and fists with tears running down his dirty cheeks. It was sad.

He must have seen the pity in your face then. When you called to him, tried to calm him down and move him away from Shane, he’d shoved you. “Get lost, girl.”

Needless to say, the men in this group were difficult. But at least the others were in the group. Daryl was on the outskirts of it and without his brother, it would be too easy for him to get thrust out. While you didn’t want that, you knew it was also vital for the survival of the group for him to stay. You had a feeling he wasn’t as impenetrable as the armor he wore.

You were worried about Daryl. You were also worried about Glenn and T-Dog, and Rick- Lori and Carl included. And as you sat there before the fire, you wondered what the hell would happen if Merle returned.

That was when you heard Amy scream. You didn’t recognize the sound at first, it was so sudden and so loud. It was a cry of anguish and fear. One that begged for help.

After that, it was chaos.

You turned over your shoulder, watching Amy and her assailant, even pondering for a split second who had snuck into the camp. What stranger would go after a girl just trying to go to the bathroom. But of course, it wasn’t a who. It was a what.

“Get behind me!” Shane roared. 

You knew there wasn’t time. Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed the unfamiliar hunting knife you had with you and unsheathed it. You stepped over the log you’d been sitting on, away from the fire, but also further away from Shane and the safety of his gun, towards one of the geeks. It wasn’t just ugly and rank and dead, it was terrifying. The look of it, the smell of it made your stomach sink so far, it felt like it’d fell out of your body.

It snarled and gnashed its mouth at you while its thin, wiry fingers reached for you, but all the while, you focused on its hair. It was the same in death as it was in life- long locks of protein that couldn’t hurt you. Harmless. So you aimed your knife there.

In the brain, in the brain, it has to be in the brain, don’t you know anything-

The thing stopped once your knife sunk into its skull. Its arms dropped to its hollow sides and its lifeless eyes looked at you, long enough to send a shudder through you before it dropped to the ground, taking your one and only weapon with it. 

“Get up here! Come to the RV!” you heard.

There were more screams, the thunk of childhood baseball bats slamming into hard skulls, the echoing sound of gunshots. Closer to you, though, and more urgently, there was deep guttural snarling, groaning and gurgling- the sound of the dead coming for you.

Shane had brought the children to the RV, safe, their backs leaning against the cold metal. Lori and Carol were there, Jim was at the treeline with his bat, Andrea on the ground with- with Amy. Amy’s body. You were alone. In the middle of the chaos, too far from any other living humans to take any aid.

“(Y/N)! Get up here! Jim!” Shane’s voice was hoarse.

You dove for your knife, yanking it out of the walker’s head with a squelch. You could only manage three or four steps up the hill before another undead was upon you. It was too close, its long nails a hair’s breadth away from your bare skin and its decaying teeth lunging closer with every stride. Again, you had to gather all your strength, grip your knife tight and focus- be calm enough to aim for the enemy’s brain. You had one chance, or you’d turn into one of them.

Carl would have to see it, Sophia, Lori. Daryl.

You grunted with the effort and the tip of the knife hit home and sunk into the geek’s head. This time you were able to free your knife before the thing fell to the ground. You scanned the land in front of you, looking for more threats. There were so many bodies on the ground. Bodies of people from your group, people that you’d gotten to know. They were lying still now. Leaking onto the dirt.

Then an arm wrapped around your middle and dragged you uphill. You screamed and thrashed, but whatever had you was strong.

“It’s me,” his voice rasped in your ear. 

It immediately calmed you. You held onto Daryl’s arm as if it were a buoy saving you from drowning in gray, storming waves of a murderous ocean. He led you to the others near the van and deposited you there before letting go of you.

He was back. You saw Rick, T-Dog and Glenn, all in various states of emotional disrepair, but Daryl just looked around, calmly taking in the carnage. 

“Daryl,” you said to him, “you okay?”

“Whaddah you think?” he snarled. “Ya see mah brother anywhere? Huh?”

So the moment was short lived. You ignored whatever he said next, running your hand along the outside of the RV, using it as a crutch as you moved to check on Carol and Sophia, then on Lori. You didn’t have it in you to survey much more than that. You trembled from the inside out and watched Rick hug his little boy as tears streamed down his face. 

At least they were back. 

It was somewhat painstakingly decided that you would all save the cleanup for tomorrow morning. The survivors had vans or tents to escape into. To leave the dead outside. Except for Andrea. One look at her- that was all you could handle- and you knew she wasn’t going to leave her sister any time soon.

You fell to your knees, jeans sinking into the soft dirt and stared into the flames of the campfire that was still burning strong. It was only then you found the hunting knife still in your tight grip, crusted over with brown, lumpy goo. At that point in the night, you couldn’t understand exactly what the remains were and for that, you were grateful. The bit of blade still showing reflected in the light coming from the pit, shades of orange and red glowing between your fingers. 

Shane crouched beside you and though his landing was silent and agile, you jumped.

“S’alright,” he said, taking the weapon out of your scrunched hand. “Lemme clean it.”

“I can clean it,” Daryl grumbled from above, snatching the knife from Shane. “S’mine anyway.”

Shane let it happen, concentrating on you. He carefully set a hand on your shoulder. “Ya did good,” he said.

“You too,” you answered, like a little league pitcher on the losing team. 

He stood and put his hands on his hips. “Try ta get some rest,” he said from the air.

You nodded.

Only when Shane was gone, did Daryl move closer to you. He sat on the ground and leaned back against the log the group had been using as dinner seats less than an hour ago. He sat back for a while, leaving you to watch the flames die down as he worked one of his rags into the crevices of the hunting knife. Slowly, you heard the others of the group- those living- say goodnight to each other and slide into their respective dwellings for what was left of the evening.

Distantly, though he sat just beside you, you heard Daryl speak. “S’right bout one thing.”

“Hm?”

“Ya did good. I saw ya when we were runnin’ up the hill. Doin’ what I told ya to do.”

You turned to him, but he wasn’t looking at you. Your feet stung under you, asleep after kneeling on them for so long, as you moved to sit on your bottom next to Daryl. He turned the cleaned knife in his hand before passing it you, handle out.

You shook your head. “It’s yours.”

He plopped it on your lap. “S’yours now. I gave it to ya. You’ll need it.”

You didn’t want to need it. He knew that too. All the same, it was a good thing he’d left it with you when he went to Atlanta. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting next to him right now. Speaking to him. Feeling the heat that didn’t just emit from the fire, but from him by your side as well. 

“Thank you,” you said, sliding the knife back into its sheath and into your pocket, where you hoped it would stay, unneeded for a long time. Or at least for the rest of the night.

You turned to him, but again, he wasn’t looking at you. He rarely did. But you knew he was still there, still with you by the way his head tilted towards you. Like he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. As if you were a deer in the forest, ready to bolt away from him at any moment.

“I’m sorry you didn’t find Merle.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah right. You hate Merle.”

“Hate is a strong word,” you said.

He chuckled- a grim, gruff sound deep in his chest. 

You watched him, feeling free to do so since he so rarely looked you in the eye. He was biting the inside of his lip over and over and picking at his fingernails. 

You waited.

He peeked at you, inhaling deep. “Didn’ mean ta snap atcha. Earlier.”

When he yelled, you thought. By the RV, after he’d pulled you to safety. 

You nodded. “S’alright. It’s been a tough day all around.”

Humming in agreement, he turned back to the fire. You two were square now. But you also hoped he knew that if he snapped at you like that again, you wouldn’t be so quick to forgive. 

There was a flapping from above that shook the leaves in the trees. It was a soft, peaceful sound of nature, but after this night, in this new world, it startled you to your core.

“Just a bird,” Daryl said.

You sucked in a breath that made your lungs quake in your chest. “I’m sick of being so scared all the damn time,” you mumbled, tipping your head forward, holding your face in your hands. Things had only been like this for two months? Three? And you were already exhausted, tired of it all. How much longer could you take? Or, how much longer would it take for you to just-

Daryl stood. “Come on,” he said. He waved toward his tent. “Gotta getcha away from this damn bloodbath ‘er you’ll never calm down.”

You violently shook your head. “I can’t- I don’t wanna be alone-”

He was already walking toward the tent he shared with Merle. “Yer stayin’ with me. So I know where ya are.”

Your system went from fight or flight to frozen. He- Daryl- wanted you- where? After every shove and snap and swear towards you, now he wanted you to come with him? To be in his space? Overnight?

You stared at him. He tossed his crossbow into his tent, lifting the flap and heading inside when he turned back and saw you still on the ground in front of the fire.

“Or do ya wanna stay out here alone?”

“No.”

“Then get off yer ass.”

You scrambled to your feet and scurried to the tent’s flap. You felt like a scolded child, like your dignity had been left in the dirt, but you didn’t care. After the walker attack, you couldn’t be alone and you had been trusting Daryl with your life for weeks now, not that you’d ever tell anyone that. You felt the safest when you were with him. Tonight you needed that. Especially tonight. 

“Ya can take that side,” Daryl mumbled, pointing. 

The tent was small. Big enough to stand up in, but not very wide. There were two sleeping bags strewn out close to each other with a lumpy pillow on each. He tossed an extra blanket onto the side he told you to take. It was the one with the crossbow at its foot. And you recognized his cut off flannel shoved into the duffle beside it.

“I can’t take your bed.”

“Ain’t a bed,” he said, spreading the other sleeping bag open flat and sitting on it.

“Well, I can’t take your bag.”

“Would you rather stick your face in Merle’s pillow all night?”

You grimaced, thinking of the monster of a man and what he’d probably done to that innocent pillow.

“Thought not,” Daryl said. He grumbled it, but you heard the smirk in his voice.

“The definition of ‘pick your poison’,” you said, crouching to sit on the soft sleeping bag. 

“Girl-” Daryl said, swatting at you as he rolled over, putting his back to you.

You swung back, smacking his shoulder. “I was kidding.”

In answer, he gave another blind swat, making you giggle. 

You laid back into the double layer of sleeping bag, enjoying the way it was cool to the touch underneath you. The pillow, though thin, felt nice when you situated it under your head the way you liked it. Everything around you smelled like him- gas, grease, cigarettes- yes, but something else too. It wasn’t a bad smell, just a natural one. Just Daryl.

You were laying on your side, facing him. You watched him sink into the darkness as you spun the dial on the lantern until it turned off. Dark, though it was, you could still see his form clearly. Not sleeping yet. 

“Thank you, Daryl,” you said.

He grunted, flopping to lay on his back and folding one of his arms under his head. “Get some sleep.”

It was then you realized how small the tent really was. When he laid on his back, his leg could almost touch your knee as you curled up on your side. He was an enigma, alright, you thought. Couldn’t bear to look you in the eye, saved your life, snapped at you in front of everyone and now slept beside you like it was nothing.

You sighed, following suit and laying on your back too. “Don’t think I’m gonna be able to catch much of that,” you said.

His pillow rustled as he looked toward you. “What the hell happened there?” He took your hand from where it rested over your forehead and studied the angry red scrapes and purple bruising on your knuckles. “This happen tonight?”

“No,” you said, taking your hand from his grasp and tucking it under you, embarrassed. “Happened earlier.”

“How’d you bust it up like that?”

“I, um… I just hurt it. Against Ed’s face.”

Daryl gave a laughing hiss. “I saw his face. You did that?”

“Some of it. Shane did the rest.”

“Fuck yeah.”

“He had it comin’,” you said, barely finishing the last word and regretting saying anything at all. Ed may have deserved a few punches, hell, he deserved jail time. But what happened to him tonight- eaten alive, alone- you weren’t sure anyone deserved that. It made your stomach roll in your gut and you stung with shame.

“Fucking badass, girl,” Daryl said.

It was quiet in the dark for a long moment. 

“M’not, Daryl. I’m just fucking scared.”

There was more rustling beside you as Daryl shimmied around on his sleeping bag. 

“Turn over. That way,” he said.

You did as he told you, laying on your side with your back to him. His body moved up against yours, his heat blooming on your shoulders, bum, and the backs of your legs. A little too forcefully, he lifted your head to slide his arm underneath and cradle you close.

“Ain’t nothin’ gettin’ in this tent tonight. I gotch’yer back. You can handle your front.”

You nodded, feeling tears gather in your eyes. Your cheeks were hot, as though they were on fire as you cried, finally letting out the emotion of the evening. The death, the kills, the fear, and the relief all ran down your face and into your shirt or onto Daryl’s pillow or his arm supporting your head. As your breath caught, he reached around you with his free arm, hugging you close and rubbing his thumb on the skin of your injured hand. You grasped him hard. You needed to.

Before this night, you weren’t sure what you thought of the younger Dixon brother. He was rough and nasty and you wondered just how much he took after Merle. Before this moment, you thought he’d run for the hills if you ever touched him with one single finger, nevermind your whole body- your whole being like you were now. But he was there, still with you and unbothered. Safe.

“Sleep,” he mumbled.

You nodded, squeezing his hand again before letting it go and allowing your body to relax against his. And eventually, in his arms, listening to his steady breath, you slept.

[arieswritez]

Just thinking about pervy Mark rn…. Giggles

I think he should be nasty.. a lil gross,, That would be hawt

mark should allowed to be nasty & gross as a treat!!

cw; MDNI! DARK CONTENT! yan!mark grayson x gn!reader, abusive relationships, manipulation, food tampering, drugging, somnophilia, blackmail, scent kink, rape & sexual harassment, mentions of body size (weight fluctuations, implied chub!reader, mark teases reader about it)

he should be allowed to taint your food with his spit and his cum and get hard while he watches you eat it! he should be allowed to put trackers in your car or on your phone! why can't you understand he's just wants to keep you safe?! stop being so ungrateful >:[ !!!!

how do you think it'd make mark feel if something happened to you? or are you that fucking self absorbed that you don't stop to think about how your actions affect those around you? specifically him. your boyfriend who does so much for you.

what if someone got their hands on your cute little body? is that what you want? because mark obviously doesn't want anything happening to you. . but if that's what you really want: he can make that happen.

he won't like it. but if it means teaching you a lesson, he can always hire a few low lives to scare you straight. and it's not like it's hard to find them and reason with them. mark gets a favor and, in return, they don't have to worry about mark - or invincible, as they know him - lurking on their turf.

despite their reputation, they don't do anything too bad. nothing big enough to cause any permanent, physical damage. although he's sure - and hoping - your psyche will take a hit. he specifically advised they not rape you but they do enough to leave you shaking with fear once it's over.

when you come home to him, clothes torn, sobbing about being cornered and groped, he'll be there, soothing and cooing at you,

"babe~ i told you! this is what happens when you wear that while i'm not around! you have to tell me where you are at all times! it wouldn't have happened if i was there!"

mark should be allowed to make you absolutely, completely, A HUNDRED PERCENT!!!! dependent on him!!! he should be allowed to slip things into your drinks that make you drowsy and force you to stay the night. he should be allowed to set up a cute little camera in the corner of the room, facing his bed, and film himself slipping his hand into your underwear while you sleep! you wouldn't believe the sounds you make while you're passed out <3

he should be allowed to give you medication that causes your weight to fluctuate! & he's allowed to be a little mean about it, too ;( to pinch your chubby cheeks or your softening belly, grab your rolls and say, "you're lucky i love you so much ~"

he should be allowed to use your throat as leverage when he fucks you from behind!!! he should be allowed to stick his thumb/stuff his fingers into your hole while he strokes you or eats you from the back!! he should be allowed to paint your back and/or belly with sticky white cum while you're throbbing for him. he should be allowed to make excuses !!! oh, i hafta go. cecil needs me. im tired. get yourself off, you can do that, can't you?

or just a blatant, "no. you don't deserve to."

mark should be allowed to throat fuck you until your face is covered with tears and snot and he should be allowed to laugh at you and plug your nose while you choke around him!

he should be allowed to force you to your knees & tongue at his balls the second he steps into the house despite the fact that he hasn't showered the day's worth of sweat and grime off of him! you should BE GRATEFUL HIS DICK IS IN YOUR MOUTH!!!

mark is a good bf! and you shouldn't complain!! no one will love you the same way he does!!

[navybrat817]

Did you see the Sebastian photo with him in the leather jacket and Bucky hair? The black and white one? He looks so good!!!!!!!!

Is it the image below, nonnie? If so, yes! He looks amazing. So much that I had to share more rocker!Bucky. If not, I'm happy to receive the pic.

Everybody Wants a Taste

Pairing: Rocker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Are you really Bucky's girl? He thinks so. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, oral implied (m. and f. receiving), possessive behavior, slight jealousy and insecurity, swearing, slight feels (it's me), sort of getting together, communication is key, Rocker!Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Some White Wolf and Luna that no one asked for! This can also count for Week 4 of the @the-slumberparty for Across the Universe!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and banner by the lovely @rookthorne . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When word got around that you were seeing Bucky Barnes, some of your friends back home told you to be careful. Not because you couldn't keep up with the rockstar, but because they didn't want him to throw you out when he eventually grew bored of you. Touching as it was, it was also insulting.

"We're having fun." you said in the group chat. "Nothing wrong with that."

"But everyone wants him!" one of them replied. "What makes you different from the rest?"

What makes you special?

"Nice fucking pep talk. Really. Appreciate the vote of confidence!" you sent.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

That was the last thing you sent in the chat.

You may have given your phone the finger, too.

As if you needed another reminder that girls, and guys, lined up to get just a glimpse of the man you somehow got to call yours. Some were better looking than you and others were nicer, but you refused to let it shatter your confidence. They didn't click with Bucky the way you did. If he woke up one day and decided he didn't want you, it wouldn't be the end of your world.

You took care of yourself long before you left home and wouldn't depend on a guy for anything. That was something you made clear when you started spending more time with Bucky. At least, you told him once you could form a coherent sentence since he fucked every sane thought out of you.

"It's okay to keep wanting me, Luna."

Being addicted to him wasn't something you anticipated nor did you want to admit that he had a hold on you. If you did, he'd have the entire deck stacked in his favor. But the cocky fucker knew he had you in the palm of his hand and you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Not when you were on your knees worshipping him like the god everyone made him out to be.

You waited for Bucky after rehearsal, knowing he could do with a bit of stress relief. Steve gave you a knowing smirk as he walked by. "Hey, baby," he teased.

“Hey, blondie,” you winked back.

"Don't call my girl 'baby', punk," Bucky said as his friend laughed.

Am I your girl?

Shamelessly allowing your eyes to roam his body as he walked closer, you wondered how he even got his jeans on some days with the heat he was packing. The rest of the band nodded to you as they passed by, knowing exactly what they'd witness if they stuck around.

"I don't remember texting you," Bucky said when he stopped, running his ringed fingers through his hair. "You don't have anything better to do than wait for me?"

Asshole. You're lucky I adore you.

Your eyes narrowed as you pushed yourself off the wall. "Plenty of other things I can be doing that don't involve you."

"C'mon, baby. I'm fucking with you," he smiled as he moved to stand in front of you. "I just figured you might be hanging out with Alice and Sunshine."

"Oh, we did each other's nails and had a pillow fight. Almost fell out of my top as I jumped around," you smiled, leaning against the wall once again.

You liked Alice and Sunshine. You'd be a bitch not to and they understood things that people back home wouldn't get. Jefferson was certainly more cheerful now that he had his girl back in his life. And Hal still adored his high school sweetheart just as much as he had the day before.

What's it like for someone to be loved the way they are?

"And I missed it? That's too bad. Didn't get a facial?"

You arched an eyebrow as he moved a finger along the swell of your breast. "How could I when you weren't there to give me one?"

"I can give you one now," he smirked.

You laughed and shook your head as you tugged him closer by his t-shirt. "I don't know if I want one anymore. I could find something else to quench my thirst."

"We both know you love the taste of my cock."

"Almost as much as you love the taste of my pussy."

He placed both hands on the wall and looked into your eyes as you bit your lip. "My favorite treat. You gonna let me get my mouth on you so I can have my fill?"

"Maybe after you fuck my throat. Maybe," you said before he brought a hand to your throat. He held it there, but didn't squeeze. "So you'd rather choke me with your hand instead of your cock?"

"Luna, baby, don't tease me."

"Isn't teasing just another form of foreplay?" you asked.

The flirty, fun banter never got old with him. Even on the days you didn't have sex, you found yourself smiling at his words and antics. It made it difficult to protect your heart. But like your body, it was yours to give the person you wanted and he had the key to the lock before you knew it.

"I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock," he stated, tightening his grip when you moaned. "Want you to choke on me before I make a mess of you."

The mere suggestion was enough for your thighs to rub together, tour panties dampening more at the thought of him using your throat to get himself off and paint your face. His thick cock filled every hole of yours to the brim time and time again, reminding you that you belonged to him. But you couldn't always give in so easily. Call it pride or a power move.

You'd both get off in the end.

"Sure you don't want one of your other groupies to suck your cock?"

Everybody wants a taste.

His smirk vanished instantly as he leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. You didn't shy away from his gaze, captivated by the blue of his eyes. He liked that you didn't try to hide.

Caught in his trap, you couldn't duck and run if you wanted to.

"I haven't fucked anyone else in weeks," his voice dropped as he shoved his knee between your thighs without warning, your core pulsing as he brushed his lips against yours. "Thought I made it clear that you're my girl."

You swallowed hard enough for Bucky to loosen his grip. If Bucky let you in, that meant something because he didn't give himself away lightly. Sex, he could find that anywhere. Someone to stick around through the highs and lows after was another story.

One you wanted to write with him.

"You never actually asked," you said above a whisper.

It was weak to say it out loud and make him put a label on it, but you wanted to hear it.

"I didn't think I had to ask," he said, kissing the spot between your eyes with a small huff. "I thought you were already mine.”

Your stomach swirled with butterflies. "I thought you were mine, too."

"Because I am. I’m all yours," he whispered, playing dirty by rocking his knee a bit more. You were tempted to slide up a bit more and ride his thigh and weep from knowing he was really yours. "C'mon. Be mine. Be my fucking girl, Luna."

You whined when he brought his lips to yours again. You would have said "yes" regardless. "I'm your girl, but don't you dare break my heart. 'Cause I'll hunt you down and make you sorry if you do. I'll curse that glorious dick of yours, too."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. The sound brought a smile to your face. "I'd expect nothing less. You better not curse my dick or break my heart either."

His casual tone had an underlying vulnerability that you wouldn't dare joke about.

"You're my guy, Wolfy. I won't hurt you."

And I'll be your Luna no matter what.

"Don't let anyone hear you call me that," he grinned, pulling his knee away to leave you wanting more. Tease. "I have a reputation to uphold."

You smiled as the atmosphere shifted back to the sexual charge. He didn't need to dwell on the emotions for the moment and neither did you. Your heart was full and that was more than enough for today.

"Guess you better shut me up then," you suggested as you reached for his belt.

"Oh, no. Still wanna hear you moan and whine when you take me in your mouth," he stated, stepping back so you could unzip his pants and sink to your knees. "When I'm done, you're gonna sit on my face and sing for me. Those pretty sounds of yours might inspire our next song."

"Call it 'Howl at the Moon'," you smiled up at him. "Dedicate it to me," you added with a wink.

You'd find out later that Bucky already had.

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[cardboardheartss]

Hi, now since the election results are out. Can I ask like what will he the results after this if it makes sense. Is it going to get better or worse? I mean are there still any chances of seeing light? 🥲☝🏻

United States of America for the next 4 years under President Donald Trump Reading.

Overall affect on the USA

The Sun, KNoC rx, KNoS rx, The Lovers rx, KoS, 7oS rx, 10oW rx, 8oS, Empress

- what have y’all voted for?

I see that many people are going to regret voting for him! Like a lot of people! Mainly the ones who were boasting about it on social media and with people around them in general. It seems like Trump will also be deliberately and intentionally say very foul things about the people, I think I’m leaning heavily towards POC’s.

Looking at this… I do get the feeling that Trump will be implementing Project 2025. Seems like he is relied up, and really wants to get this project started. The lovers card… this could mean that, the first rule he implements could be toward the LGBTQIA + community and maybe one of the other rules, can also lead to the decline of relationships, mainly male and female relationships.

Even during his power, we will come across MAGA supporters who will still believe everything and anything Trump says, as they put him on a really high pedestal. OR! We could see more celebs, mainly leaning towards more Male celebrities in particular who will be exposed for endorsing Trump for these elections and help him gain connections for the ‘Red Mirage.’

Looks like whatever Trump is passing for the Project 2025 is going to be putting Americans through a lot of pain and exhaustion. Expect many people to work low wage jobs for income, getting sick from overwork and etc. I know this usually indicates a card for standing for oneself, but this just speaks volumes of how tired and restless Americans will be after protesting and fighting for the next 4 years.

My fellow American women… looking at these cards. You all will be the main targets and at a higher detriment to be honest. It seems like Trump is definitely going to seriously enforce Anti-Abortion laws, and it seems like if you go against it, you will be locked up or deal with serious consequences. With that being said, more kids will be born, but will be unloved and will not be used to the natural “Motherly affection.” that many of us were lucky to have. It’s really not looking good, for you guys specifically. Another thing, if any female experiences Rape or any abuse, there could be some issues with gaining justice because, whatever Trump implemented, it’s not going to benefit any female.

White Americas for the Next Four Years

PoW, 9oS rx, KoW rx, 6oW rx, The Moon rx, 2oP

The more Trump speaks, the more they’ll regret it. They could possibly feel the same pain that Democratic Black/POC voters feel right now. I see this could also be heavily influenced by the Anti-Abortion laws because even they themselves will not get an upper hand in this and will be like everyone else. I see that many White Americans are going to suffer financially, and will have to rely on buying cheaper stuff in general just for the sake of saving more money.

Hispanics/Latinas for the Next Four Years

3oC, QoW, PoS rx, The Emperor, 3oS, 7oC

I see in the beginning, as we have witnessed today. Many of them are Pro-Trump, and they are really proud of it, and I don’t see that ending anytime soon. They will still be proud of the decision they made, because I’m sorry, and no offense, but they all have their heads stuck in the clouds.

I also get the feeling that, when Trumps 4-years are over, they’re going to be a bit heartbroken and will have to obviously re-elect again, and I see them struggling to pick the right party for themselves. A lot of division still I see…

Asian Americans for the Next Four Years

The Magician, The Tower, The Star rx, PoP, QoP rx, KoP, QoS, AoP, QoC, 6oS, Judgement, 3oP

Woah?! It seems like there could be an end of rising Asian celebs in America? I see that Trump may ensure some cut ties between the industry and Asian people. I see that someone may be paid off to actually do this. Oddly enough, I see a fued between two Asian nationalities, or that some Republicans will somehow pay Asian countries or other countries to take back their people?

And I actually do see that happening. Many Asian Americans will be moving away from America and find other countries to relocate to, but I see many rejections from those countries. I believe they’ll reject them because, they’ll want to give the same energy back from what they receive from Asians themselves when traveling.

Or they could face rejection from their own kind in the Asian continent.

Arabs for the Next Four Years

WoF, 2oW rx, 3oW rx, 4oC rx, Strength, 5oS rx

It seems a bit moderate. I see that they really won’t have much luck in general, I see that initially they believe they made the right choice for voting for Trump. As time progresses, they’ll slowly regret their choice for Trump. I see that there could be a rise of Islamophobia and racism towards them, and they’ll actually all sit and realize what exactly African Americans have been complaining for, for decades and will understand how much work it takes to fight for your race and safety.

African Americans for the Next Four Years

10oC rx, 10oS, AoC rx, 4oW, The Hierophant, 8oP rx, 5oC, 7oP rx, The Chariot, KoC rx, Justice

Obviously… never ending cycle of racism and divided communities. I do see that many families will still be made, but the connections and the energies will not be positive at all. Many Black men will conform to whatever is being said by the Republicans. This will lead to a lot of conflict and anger, and many Black people will be dissatisfied with these type of Black People.

There will be a delay in their businesses, and more of them will be held back and forced to not work. The government will truly be working against them thee most. Oh and the Justice system… will not be for any of them. Which is why, it is important, MAINLY NOW, for Black people to have their own proof and evidence because if not, the judge will 10000% throw them in jail.

So get your own little dash cams, recording devices and space for any video proof just in case you’re in danger.

Native Americans for the Next Four Years

KNoP rx, The Devil, PoC rx

No progression at all! I see they’ll still be gambling, and relying on Government money. It’s possible that Trump will decrease the amount that they need. There will still be struggles with drug/alcohol addiction, and issues with relationships, and still high rates of women and children going missing. A lot of broken dreams and trauma just being passed down from one to another.

Continuations of people affected

Muslim Americans

Palestine + Non-Voters + Third Party Voters

Well… that was one stressful reading. I was getting headaches thee entire time. Apart from that, this reading is quite saddening you know. I just don’t understand how the world can still be so Anti-Black and misogynistic?

EVERY SINGLE AMERICAN had the opportunity, right now to have elected Mrs Kamala Harris as the 47th President of the USA, but no! Everyone chose who?? Trump! Now look what’s going to happen to everyone?

I am praying and hoping that this will be a wake up call for every single one of you, to just put race and gender aside and vote for your rights! Now look, the women and marginalized groups are going to suffer!

Wishing you all thee bestest of luck, and from a completely different continent, I apologize to my fellow gays and women. It’s truly going to be a hard time for you all.

Please! Choose wisely everyone!💙🥺

[milunalupin]

Hi! It’s so cute what you’ve written about Regulus. Could I request a blurb about Regulus being so smitten with reader that he pretty much forgets how to breathe and therefore never answers whenever she talks to him? Either with them already dating or just being classmates ☺️

Hope you have a lovely day!

sorry for the wait lovely, i hope you enjoy !! :)

— take my breath away

regulus black x reader ★ 1.1k words

Divination is shit. A complete load of dragon shit. There's no hard research behind it, no factual information, just conclusions based off of feelings. Regulus doesn't understand visions and wanting to know what's to come. He's has his future planned out for him, so what were tea leaves and crystal balls going to do for him?

Continue the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black family legacy, be the perfect son and the top student in every class. Easy enough for Regulus, except for being 3rd in Divination because he "lacked natural aptitude". How ridiculous. Lucky for him his parents were far more focused on him doing well in Charms and Potions than reading tarot cards and interpreting dreams.

The one thing he doesn't mind seeing during this period was you, someone he could never dream of having the pleasure to call his. You weren't born into a pureblood family, and weren't even close to rivaling him academically. He doesn't ever recall seeing you at a quidditch match either, at least not when Slytherin was playing. With your effortless beauty and blinding smile, he's confident he would have noticed you among the others in the stands.

Regulus doesn't know when he started to crush on you, it just kind of happened. One day he started to notice small things about you, from your baby blue nail polish to your lavender perfume that did everything but calm his heartrate. He would pass by your table on the way to his own and see you reading what he assumed to be muggle poetry. The quiet Slytherin would look for those same muggle poetry books in the library late at night. He liked it when the sun sometimes shone right on your face, your eyes squinting and nose scrunching adorably. You would often mumble haikus and villanelles to yourself during class, plush lips moving quietly as you stared out the window, in your own world.

Just like today, you hovered over your parchment, your quill moving in a way that it was obvious that you were not taking notes on the lecture being given. The professor noticed your distracted state, calling your name out. "Please tell us all what ovomancy is."

"It's.. erm.." you giggled nervously, your face flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry Professor, I wasn't paying attention."

Regulus held back a lovesick sigh, smiling to himself as you continued to doodle on your parchment as soon as the professor sighed and turned their back. As lucky as he wished he was, he wasnt daft enough to believe he was your only admirer.

Edgar Bones was a charming guy. Regulus wonders what was so funny about him that he had you giggling behind your hand, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his quill a little too tight. Every table was assigned a different method, so while he and his partner were busy taking notes on capnomancy, you and Bones were having fun with palmistry. The bitter Slytherin supposed the smoke he felt coming out of his ears meant jealousy, watching Edgar asking to hold your hand to see if he can read it that way.

"Merde, ça n'a rien à voir avec.." he hissed, his anger turning to yearning as he craved to be the one holding your hand.

Ah, less-- less bright

Are the stars of night

Than the eyes of the radiant girl!

And never a flake

That the vapor can make

With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,

Can vie with the modest Eulalie's

most unregarded curl-

Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's

most humble and careless curl.

Regulus Black feels pathetic, writing love notes like a little schoolboy. Especially if his parents found out he was quoting muggle poetry. But there he was in the corner of the library, copying down yet another poem to leave on your table at the beginning of your next shared class.

He arrived early to Divination, quickly setting his folded parchment on your table and then sitting at his own. It's been weeks since he began to anonymously leave you poetry, too shy to talk to you face to face. You always read the letter and put it into your school bag, so hopefully you were keeping them and not tossing them out later when no one was watching. Regulus' knee bounced under the table as the other students started to file in, his eyes darting between the door and the folded parchment he left for you. He decided to get started on his next letter, hunching over his parchment to get the words just right.

Regulus was too distracted by perfecting his penmanship to notice you walk into the classroom and watch as he gently placed today's poem on your table. You smiled to yourself and went to your seat, tracing your beautifully written name with your finger. You had felt flattered when you first started receiving the letters, assuming that it had been your flirty class partner Edgar, but quickly realized that he wasn't the type to do such a thing.

"Your cursive letters weren't this perfect when you first started leaving me poetry, have you been practicing for me Regulus Black?"

Regulus gasps a little too fast, choking in surprise at your discovery. He turns away to cough into his sleeve like the proper boy he is. You grinned at the young heir, picking up his newest letter he had been working on.

His eyes widened and frantically waved his hands, trying to take the letter back but you held it behind you out of his reach. "You don't have to read th—"

"Shut up Regulus."

He placed his hands back in his lap, his ears burning red as you read his letter in front of him, the corners of your mouth turning upwards. Regulus felt himself holding his breath, knowing he had to say something now or sit there looking like a fool. He took a quick breath and kept his eyes on the parchment as he rushed his words out. "Perhaps, we could go to the library one day and read poetry together?"

He shouldn't have looked up because he felt himself lose oxygen again when he saw your enchanting self was smiling cheekily down at him.

"Or we could go down by the lake and you could read me some of your favorites?"

Regulus agrees with a shy nod and makes a mental note to use the Bubble-Head charm in case he forgets to breathe. He'll forget all about the charm later when your head is laying sleepily on his shoulder as he recites old poetry from his journal.

[divine-misfortune]

The floor is yours good sir 👀

CLEARS THROAT

After his transition, Dewdrop felt nothing but loss. Everything was taken from him. His element, his pack, his bass. And what pack he had left felt like strangers to him, though some of them were strangers. Mountain and Aether looked at him different. He was just Dew now. No more Dewdrop, the clergy had even stolen his own fucking name from him. No more droplet, no more water lily, no more catfish. Sure, the nicknames changed. Sure, they were still endearing. But they weren’t his. It felt like he’d stolen something from Ifrit - like every passing ‘spitfire’ was desecrating something sacred.

In the weeks and months following, he hides the urge to grimace every single time these new pet names find their way to his ears. Dew wants to like them, wants to feel that familiar fuzzy warmth in his chest. Yearns for the feeling of love to settle into his core like an old familiar friend. He also does his best not to looked like a kicked puppy when Mountain calls this new ghoul ‘tadpole’ for the first time, and the second time, and every occurrence after that. It was like being replaced. More confusing of a feeling though, keeping him around to watch this new water ghoul blossom was painful. Could have been classified as Dewdrop related cruelty.

And there is no way for him to swallow down the resentment and anger that boils in him when Aether purrs the faintest ‘raindrop’ against Rain’s kiss plumped lips. Puts off sparks, the fire in the hearth crackles and flares violently before snuffing out abruptly as he gets off the couch and storms out of the room.

Time blurs eventually. They say it heals all wounds but all it does is numb him to the hurt. Dew can force it down far enough he can force himself to be in the same room as Rain. And then after a bit longer, tolerate a conversation with him, which turns into multiple over time. Spirals into thousands of shared thoughts and words between them until Dew can’t get enough of listening to Rain talk. Disdain and arms length distance becomes infatuation and a desire for proximity he didn’t think possible before.

Dew kisses him. Suddenly and without even considering what he was doing, the fire ghoul was leaning over the sleek white bass in Rain’s lap to sate an itch he’d been ignoring since the day they met. Their mouths fit together like they were made for this. He tastes like everything Dew had dreamed about and more. It tastes like home and conflict mixed in one but it doesn’t drive him away like it should. Curiosity has him licking over the seam of Rain’s lips and dipping past when Rain allows him in. His gasp lights a fire in Dew he’d never felt. Not simply arousal, but something deeper than even he knew. Completion.

They’re lucky Rain has the shoulder strap on because if not that bass would’ve hit the floor because Rain’s hands had abandoned it to fit on a more favorable body. One against his cheek, the other on the back of his neck. Every point of contact Dew can find helps make the world make sense again. He’s practically trying to crawl into Rain’s already occupied lap, wanting to press their bodies together in a way not entirely sexual.

And they part, and Dew’s world feels broken in half. Ripped away by the distance between their lips. The taste lingers and Dew hopes it stays forever. Hopes that this might be the one thing they can’t take from him.

“Rain, I-“

“Took you long enough,” he interrupts and pets his thumb over his warm cheek. “Kept me waiting, droplet.”

There it is. That single fucking word and Dew’s shattered world is flipped on its head and forced back together despite the missing chipped pieces.

The clergy may have stolen it from him, but Rain gave it back just like that.

Dew could laugh, should probably cry, but he just stares at those pretty blue eyes. Frozen until relief thaws him and reminds his heart to start beating again, even if it is a bit faster than it had been. It didn’t matter, his heart could beat right out of his chest and Dew wouldn’t care. Too fixated on the way the word leaves Rain’s tongue, fascinated by the fondness it carries, enraptured by the way he looks at him. It didn’t cure the pain his transition caused him, but it did stitch the open wound shut so it could finally begin to heal.

“Say it again…”

“Again?”

“Call me that again, please.”

“As many times as you want, droplet. Anything you want.”

And each one is a reminder of who he was - who he is. His name no longer felt strange and foreign like ill fitted clothes.

[desperate-gay]

Hey could you maybe write something about a Love story proposal??? You could write it for Leah,Steph or Frida Maanum. Reader and player are at the eras tour and reader gets a proposal

I really need a story like that cause love story proposals are all over my Tik tok

Baby Just Say Yes

Steph Catley x fem!reader

summary: 7 is going to be your lucky number til death does you part

“Stephy hurry we’re gonna be late!” You yell out to the Australian while adjusting the sash that hangs its way over your body.

You and Steph decided to dress as Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince, her wearing a crown and a button-up with little broken hearts drawn on her skin as you wear a tiara and a dress with the iconic sash around you.

Steph surprised you with eras tickets on your anniversary knowing just how much you love Taylor Swift. You were ecstatic and still are now, pinching yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming. You’ve won many trophies but seeing your favorite singer and celebrity in concert is surreal, especially because of the harsh demand for her tickets.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

You turn around and see her pink button-up shirt with a white crop top under it. You reach out, grabbing both sides of her collar, and pull her in, her hands resting on your hips as you both stare at each other with loving smiles. Pulling her in by her shirt, you press your lips to her soft ones for an affectionate kiss. Neither of you wanting to pull away, the kiss lasts longer than expected, making the time fly past the both of you.

“We really need to go.” You whisper against her but she just hums and leans right back in, letting you melt right back into her. “No, no no no no. We’ve gotta go or it’s going to be even more of a pain getting in.” You finally move away so you’re not tempted to get pulled in again.

Your hand grabs hers, dragging her groaning figure out the door much to her dismay, and begin to make your way over to the car. Double checking you have everything, you go to open your door but quickly get pushed aside by the girl.

“There you go, my love.” She opens the car door chivalrously as if she didn’t just shove you completely to do it. You shake your head with laughter, accepting her hand to help you sit down.

“Ever the gentlewoman.”

—

“Have you ever thought just maybe, you belong with me!” You and Steph sing to each other, hips swaying with the beat of the song, enjoying every minute of the concert so far.

Lover has already passed so now it’s Fearless, one of your absolute favorite eras. Distracted by having such a good time, you haven’t noticed the slight change in Steph’s demeanor, her being more tense than usual.

The box sitting in her pocket makes her thoughts swirl and her hands sweat. You’re the love of her life and she’s sure of it, but what if you suddenly feel like she’s not yours? You have constantly assured her that there is no one else for you than her, but maybe you’ve changed your mind suddenly. What if you don’t want to marry her?

Multiple different outcomes run through her head but seeing you smile at her, singing Love Story, all those negative thoughts disappear.

The big verse starts to approach as she reaches into her pocket to pull out the velvet box, getting down on one knee while you’re distracted singing along and looking at the platform. You turn over to sing the verse to her but when you do, there isn’t anyone. Quickly moving your head, you see your girlfriend with a ring out and a bright grin on her face. Your hand slaps onto your mouth and you kneel down next to the Australian, tears slipping down your cheeks.

Over the loud music, Steph makes a little speech, “Fearless is your favorite era and I thought there was no better way to do this than right now. I have seen the multiple proposals you’ve saved on TikTok, so I wanted to make ours one of them. Sure there are thousands of people in this stadium with us but it feels like it’s just me and you. So what do you say, marry me, Juliet?”

You quickly nod your head and extend your hand for the girl to slip the ring on. Steph hugs you while pulling you both up to stand and sway to the music. The crowd around you cheers in celebration, some most likely recording the interaction which will soon be put across the internet, seeing that two famous footballers just got engaged at one of the most selling tours ever.

Steph steps back, digging something out of her other pocket, causing your face to scrunch up in confusion. She grabs your sash and opens a red marker, crossing out the Miss and changing it to Mrs.

“Now it makes sense.” She shrugs, putting the marker away and bringing you in for a loving kiss.

The rest of the concert is filled with you two dancing, singing, kissing, and embracing each other in the moment. A few hours ago you were excited about going to a concert and now you’re even more excited to marry the love of your life. 13 is Taylor’s lucky number, 7 is yours.

[127luvr]

Hi can i ask for a male reader x doyoung, where they're both in school and they have an assignment to sing a duet, but doyoung just really chose m!r so that they can spend more time together. Then they kiss?

kiss ♫⋆｡♪ ₊

kim doyoung x male reader

doyoung had never questioned his life in music. he knew from a young age where he was headed--what path in life he wanted to pursue. he breathed music like it was his lifeline. it was the one thing in his life he never second-guessed. he knew he was good at it. at singing--at reading music--at conducting his class for an assignment--at teaching it when he became a student-teacher.

he was born for this.

you weren't as lucky.

the passion for music came from watching a performance of your school choir by chance. you were convinced that you were destined to pass by the auditorium at that very moment--destined to hear the way the ensemble blended their voices together so seamlessly--as if it was a body of water collectively sending waves to shore.

it was too late in the year to join the ensemble you heard, but you managed to squeeze in to one of the beginner classes. it was one of the things in life that you took seriously. staying after school for any extra help from upperclassmen. staying behind to see the rigorous practices that the advanced classes had. while you were graced with a natural talent for music, you still had so much to learn.

which is why you were the most excited when they assigned duets. the only strict rule being that it had to be someone that was in the choir program.

doyoung had taken a liking to you. watching you from the corner of his eye when you sat in one of their after-school practices. he watched the way your pencil followed along the sheet music as they sang, circling the dynamics on top--and underneath--the staff. he watched as your body followed the conductor's baton--watched as you sang along subconsciously to your voice part in the song. he knew without a doubt that he had to choose you for a duet.

he just wasn't entirely sure if it was for his own selfish reasons or for your raw talent.

"(y/n)?" you feel a light tap on your shoulder, the sudden sensation startling you. your binder slips out of your hands when you turn to doyoung, his nearness surprising you further. you can't help but gawk at him, ignoring the way your sheet music spills out of the binder on the floor. doyoung's eyes fall to the floor, his lips twitching slightly as he goes to pick it up for you. you are still watching him as he bends down, his long fingers quick with gathering your materials. you manage to look away as he straightens his posture again, holding his hands out to hand you your binder. "i know we aren't really familiar with each other, but did you want to team up for the duet assignment?"

he was one of the upperclassmen. one of the singers that stood out to you when you watched them practice. the critiques he received from directors were nitpick-y. always something about rounding out his vowels--looking more expressive. it was clear that they only picked on him for small things because they weren't able to find anything he was bad at. he didn't need to improve--but he did need to be pushed just like his classmates.

"yeah!"

you quickly realize that doyoung isn't in it for the music. he knows the song inside and out from the get-go. leaving you to scramble and learn the song even when you're not practicing together. this only makes you wonder what he was in it for. why he chose you of all people?

your practices were usually done in the school practice rooms. preferably one with an old piano in it--sometimes you weren't as lucky. but you watched as doyoung's eyes moved faster than his fingers, reading the music as he played the black and white piano keys. you were almost jealous of his talents. envious of his ability to multitask so effortlessly but he interprets your gaze differently. patting the space on the bench next to him so you could sit--instead of standing with your back to the wall, stiff.

"i like to learn the notes by playing them and then singing them. makes it easier to correct. do you want to try?" your hands hover over the keys, scared to play any of them incorrectly. if you were being honest, you only knew the name of the notes on your phone, where the keys were labeled. "here, i'll show you."

you don't expect doyoung to put his hands on top of yours, guiding them to where he was previously playing. but the piano is the last thing on your mind. instead, thoughts of doyoung's soft skin and dainty fingers replace any and all rational thoughts from your brain.

"the note in between these black keys is d. if you look at the piano you will notice that the pattern repeats over and over again, so the notes only go a, b, c, d, e, f and g. and then back to a. the black keys are semitones--flat or sharp. it just depends on what key we're in, you know?" doyoung finally takes note of your flushed face, his hands immediately clammy on top of yours as he watches you chew your bottom lip anxiously. "(y/n)? did you get any of that?"

"uh-"

"is there a way for me to keep you concentrated?" your gaze drops down to his pouty lips, subconsciously licking your own as you stare them down. this doesn't go unnoticed by doyoung--who has been yearning for your affection since your practices together started. "kissing you?"

for a moment you thought you had shared your thoughts out loud--only to find that your lips were still shut. doyoung was the first to bring up a kiss. that could only mean that he wanted to. that it crossed his mind before it crossed yours. he leans in, with his hands still on top of yours. you're aware of his nearness. the way his cool breath hits your cupid's bow. the way he smells like baby powder--and a little bit like sweat from being in this room for so long. your eyes finally meet again which causes him to tilt his head, raising his eyebrows as if to ask you for a second time.

"here?" but you're the first one to close the gap, the first to meet your lips together. completely disregarding the glass door. completely disregarding that someone might walk by. but none of it matters--not when doyoung's lips feel heavenly. and he's drinking you up like you're a glass of iced tea on a hot summer day. you almost don't want to pull away. wanting to stay in his warmth even if the positioning was awkward. "we can practice at my place next time."

[dalisman127y]

Mha girls x reader onsen trip

A/N:I had a theory that during the time that my hero academia was set, a monkey called "japanese snow monkeys" probably went extinct.

You happily sat in the water Wich was up to your chin.

You loved soaking in hot springs. Especially with your japanese snow monkey friends before they were hunted to extinction.

Just then you hear the door open and the girls of class 1A walk in.

"oh, sorry girls. I didn't know that this is the girl's bath. I'll get out" you said getting up.

"no, no. it's ok,babe" momo said getting in. "we want you to join us"

The others nod in agreement and step in.

The girls were talking about stuff while you sat on the opposite side of the hot springs.

You have memories of when you sat in hot springs with the last of the japanese snow monkeys and two of them groomed you, a male monkey with a scar on his left eye you named "scar" and a female monkey with no hair on her arms due to Mange named "swoop".

You often protect the troop with scar or collect food with swoop.

But then one day when you got home from school.

"hello? Scar? Swoop?" You said looking around for the snow monkeys. You walk thru town to find them face to fang with a pack of feral dogs. You can only watch as the dogs massacred the last of the japanese snow monkeys, one by one.

A law was then passed to never have feral dogs in their town.

They chased all the feral dogs out of the town.

You look at the fatal injuries almost all the monkeys took and you held a monkey's hand.

"NOOOOO!!!!!!" you yell and the memory ends.

You snap back to reality as toru hagakure touches your shoulder.

"hey, honey. How about you join us. You seemed lonely " toru said.

"oh, um. It's ok,toru. I like being by myself." You said sinking into the water.

"aw,C'mon, ribbit " tsuyu said swimming to you.

"ochako, do the thing" mina said

"ok" ochako said before she gives you the puppy dog eyes.

"oh,oh my god, ochako stop! no,no,no,no. " You said looking away.

She gets closer to you with her puppy dog eyes.

"d'oh all right all right all right all right! Just stop it already." You said.

You blush wildly because.

1. you're serounded by pretty girls.

2. you're feeling highly uncomfortable

And 3. It. Was. Hot!

"AHHHHHH!!!!" you screamed in your head.

"Soo, reader-chan. Was it true?" Mina asked

"what was true?" You asked.

"that you did this with japanese snow monkeys?" Ochako said.

"uhhhhh, yeah, I did." You said.

"would it be ok if we asked some questions?" Momo asked .

"oh yeah sure." You said.

"ok, first question" kyoka said "what does a japanese snow monkey look like?"

"well, a japanese snow monkey is a type of monkey who love to live in snowy areas of Japan. They have white hair and red faces. They also love hot springs. Because it keeps them warm." You said hugging yourself.

"next question" momo asked " how did the Japanese snow monkey go extinct ?"

"well, there are different ways they went extinct." You said pulling out your sketch pad.

"for example... Being exposed to the rabies virus, wildlife conflict, illegal hunting/poaching and habitat segregation all played a key roll in the extinction." You said drawing on the sketch pad.

"no one has seen a japanese snow monkey in 10 years we'd have to be very lucky to actually see one let alone a whole group." You said looking up from the sketch pad.

"well reader chan, we won't have to look very far." Tsuyu said.

"look up there!" Mina said quietly.

You turn to see a white fluffy monkey with a red face.

The monkey jumps off the fence and it walk to you.

It started to groom you.

"umm, what's it doing?" Toru asked.

"it's grooming me." You said "monkeys often groom one another"

You then noticed a similar scar over his eye.

"what the... Scar? Is that you?" You asked.

The monkey jumps for joy and hugs you.

"awwww. I missed you too,old friend." You said returning the hug. Momo sheds a tear.

"how? How did..." You asked.

Scar makes incoherent noises.

"uhhhh, what's he saying?" Jiro asked.

"he's saying.." you said translating, "my troop was ran out by a stronger troop of japanese snow monkeys. We had to move out of the forest and into the local town."

"but then we were ambushed by a pack of feral dogs. We had to go. I ordered a few of my troops to hold back the monsters so we can sneak away. And sneak away, we did. We traveled for months for a year until we found this place." You said still translating.

"I see, but why?" Momo asked.

The monkey chitters and you nod. "They were looking for me this whole time." You said hugging scar.

"awwwwwwwwwww" the girls said.

Scar climbs out of the water, and hoots.

A female monkey with no hair on her arms comes out holding two babies in her arms.

"hey, it's swoop." Jiro said.

Ochako gasps "oh my god! she has babies!!!"

"congratulations,swoop. With these babies you'll most certainly save your species" you said.

[pumpkinsy0]

Two-Bit has said I love you to multiple people throughout the course of his life but only ONE of them has ever reciprocated it. (Or did he?) you decide. I wrote this to throw you in for a loop and or to see if you would like it.

1. When he was five and it was the night before his dad left he said it to him. Only to be greeted with empty silence and a small yet tired smile.

2. To Darryl when he was fifteen and the two of them were still in HS together. He said it the night during the homecoming dance. Darry played it off like Two was drunk (even though they both knew better) and didn’t talk about it after.

3. He said it to Dallas once when he turned seventeen. It was a slip of the tongue, he didn’t even mean to say it. But Dallas in the evening seemed to sparkle like one of those stars that Ponyboy was always talking about. Dallas found this amusing, he didn’t tease two but he didn’t say it back either. Instead it became a hook-up, just like it always did with those two.

4. Marcia, the first girl he ever really set his eyes on. Who was a Soc but was so pretty and sweet that she was hard not to fall for. Someone who he properly courted and took out. No this wasn’t just a mere hookup for two, it was something more. But Two never did have any luck when it came to love. He says it to her, sober and so softly you almost couldn’t hear him. Yet Marcia looked at him with her soft and apologetic brown eyes. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. After all soc’s and greasers are like oil and water right?

5. The last I love you that Two-bit says starts out like the first one. Except he’s no longer five, and he’s no longer waiting for anyone to say it back. This time he’s nineteen years old, he’s a little older and a little more sober. It’s been a year since Dallas and Johnny both passed on. He isn’t quite the drunken and reckless boy who he use to be. That doesn’t stop him from having his moments though. Such as tonight where he had a little too much to drink. He feels his knees give weigh and collapse underneath him. He feels like he’s falling until suddenly he isn’t. He’s being hold up by something- no someone. His eyes soften as he notices those dark curls from anywhere.

He smiles wide,showcasing his shape white teeth.He cracks a joke about him falling for the boy. The boys blue eyes shine in the night, and for just a second you can catch the amusement in them. The Boy helps to walk him back home. And maybe because it’s drunk that those words slip out again.Or maybe he’s just a kid who still hasn’t grown up yet. But when he says the words “I love you”, this time though he isn’t met with silence.Instead the boy’s blue eyes soften just slightly.It’s a softness that the Shepard’s leader hardly ever shows outside to his own kin.After all to be soft on the east side is a luxury that few can afford.

The boy doesn’t say anything back, but the simple gesture says it all.

So no Two-Bit Matthews is not lucky when it comes the field of love. But on this night he starts to learn that perhaps there’s a different kind of love to look for. A love that while might not be conventional, is no less precious to him.

yknow what??? look, what i love about the two bastards is that they r DEFINITELY not romantic in the way that other two but ships r, but it could b just as passionate as them, its like tally but like,,,,not as fucked up❤️

im clawing at the bars of my enclosure at the last line actually

BUT PLEASE!!! two bit has 2 hands, we all need to get together and help him grow more so he can have all of em!!!

let me b delusional and say that the reason y darry didnt say anything back was partially bc he was 17 and didnt want a 15 year old crushing on him, make him regret it and maybe they get together in the future,,,or at least theres something there,,,,

marcia and two bit, u guys r like romeo and juliet to me, at LEAST let them kinda keep in contact but like from a far,,,i beg,,, (can u tell im coping)

[sevikasangel]

ﾐ☁︎ ❝ 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞: 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚

— contains: f!reader, sfw and nsfw content, possessiveness, gaslighting, girlbossing, gatekeeping, light blood mentions, manipulation, kidnapping, light bondage, mistress, pet play, stockholm complex.

— a/n: my first post of my wife! i love carmilla so much ughhh. also, this is the first post of my new upcoming event to celebrate 1k of us!

₊˚✧ ₊˚੭ 𝐬𝐟𝐰 ‧₊˚✧ ₊˚੭

♡ carmilla's obsession would begin when she firstly laid her eyes on your terrified, shaky form. you were a helpless, small little human being surrounded by Bloodthirsty vampires who apparently hadn't had anything but pigs as meals for ages.

❀ "well, well...what do we have here? hmm, i see...a pathetic little nothing of a girl...brought to get her blood drained by us, vampires...just like humans are meant to."

♡ elegant, slender hands comes up to cradle your face and the vampiress leans in to sniff your neck. you whimper at the sound of her quiet, nonchalant chuckle.

❀ "this one's the finest human i've seen, doesn't look so disgusting to me. how can you still be beautiful...have little useless accessories, well presenting clothes, soft hair...when your species is being slaughtered in war? is it really that important to you to show off, little human?"

♡ there was a hint of possessiveness on her tone. the thought of your own race laying eyes on such a fine specimen made carmilla's skin itch. inferior animals shouldn't have the right to have you. a perfect pet.

❀ "so beautiful this little pet is, eh? this one's mine. find something else to feast on."

♡ carmilla decided to take you with herself. you didn't know if you should consider her your saviour, since her true intentions seemed to be slavering you. the first thing she did was stripping you from your clothes and into a white, short dress with nothing beneath. she claimed it'd be for easier access when she needed. then she collared you with a chain choker, a little hook that would be used when a leash needed to be attached.

❀ "do not hide yourself from me. your body is mine to see and touch as i please. you are my pet from now on. you do as i say, when i say. and do not forget...because i hate repeating myself."

♡ carmilla would constantly drink from your blood. it was never enough to kill you, though enough to make you dizzy and light headed. however, if she was punishing you for disobeying, she'd do it until you pass out, causing you to be terrified that she was actually going to murder you.

♡ you are her darling. she is completely obsessed with you. perfect, perfect little pet...she would not allow you outside on your own, or around anybody else if she wasn't present. during meetings, she'd have you perfectly seated on the floor besides her chair with your leash in her hand.

♡ if another vampire ever attempted to drink from you or cause you harm, she would gruesomely kill them. you are hers. she's the only one who is ever allowed to hurt you. attacking you is a direct offence at the queen.

♡ she'd constantly be stalking you through the shadows in the palace. you'd feel her eyes on your preventing you from misbehaving. she's obsessed with her pet in the sickest way possible.

♡ carmilla would always talk about the cruelty and dangers of the world, ruining any ideas and hopes of escaping you had. with a hand to your hair and the other holding your throat, she'd look into your eyes and talk about how safe you are, and how grateful you should be for the protection and care of your mistress.

❀ "little pet...you know the world would lacerate you into pieces, don't you? such a fragile thing you are. you are so lucky you have a kind mistress to yourself...see, you owe me your loyalty and undying, everlasting love. i keep you safe, i give you everything you need. i would haaate it if you made me hurt you. if you aren't mine, you aren't anybody else's."

‧₊˚✧ ₊˚੭ 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 ‧₊˚✧ ₊˚੭

♡ carmilla is a top. she isn't ever going to be a bottom ever. she has this need to be in absolute control of you, in every way possible.

♡ definitely a hard, strict dom who will demand discipline and obedience from her submissive little human. she doesn't tolerate bratty behaviour at all.

♡ the only time you decided to be a brat, carmilla made you regret it profusely. she had you completely tied up in a tight hogtie position with all your holes filled, nipple clamps on your nipples as she flogged your back and ass.

❀ "little pet desires to act like a savage...you wanted to get on my nerves, didn't you? i will make you regret it. cry all you want, i don't care. your pathetic self needs to be put in its place. i am your mistress! you are a little human who owes me your soul. you are all mine to do as i please!"

♡ definitely has a blood kink. she loves drinking from your blood while her cold fingers toy with your clit and push into your dripping hole. you feel ashamed of yourself out of how much you enjoy this.

♡ carmilla likes tugging on your leash while she takes you from behind with her strap. her face always has the same small smirk and evil eyes.

❀ "aren't you embarassed, pet? you should be...can you hear how wet and sloppy your pussy is for your captor? this makes your mistress very pleased, my dirty little pet human."

♡ carmilla makes you straddle her foot, completely naked while she's at her office. she commands you to make yourself cum and not dare stop while she finished her paperwork, her free hand stroking your hair as she throws a praise here and there like you're an obedient pup.

♡ if she is feeling generous and you earn it, carmilla will let you eat her out. she will be sitting on the edge of the bed with you on your knees between her thighs. your hands are tied behind your back as she doesn't allow you to touch her. her grip on your hair is tight and she tugs on it, riding your face however she pleases. her moans are breathy and quiet. even like this, the queen doesn't lose her posture.

❀ "that's it, pet. please your mistress...hmmm...you're the best toy i've ever had...ugh...i will let you taste my cum as a reward...good pet...good pet..."

♡ carmilla always gives you aftercare following rough sessions. she'd prepare a hot bath for the both of you. the vampiress allows you to rest your head on her chest while you're both inside and she scrubs your body until it's relaxed and clean.

[ne0politon]

It Hurts

I have never experienced a hate crime (and probably won’t). I am white and straight passing. The only way people would know any different is if I tell them. I  will never experience the full extent of the damage a single story can cause, but I think I have a small idea of some of it.

I am asexual and aromantic (I only recently figured out the latter and am still in denial at times). The world has created this single story of what love is and looks like and it sucks (for me at least). You find someone, date them, get married, spend the rest of your life with them, they should be your best friend since everyone talks about how their partner is their bestfriend. This creates a narrative that your partner/ romantic relationships  should be valued more than your friends/platonic relationships.

It hurts.

I am terrified that my friends will move on and I will no longer be a priority in their lives and that I will be alone—all because I don’t experience love the same way (despite what some people believe aroace people still love and are not robots. Although, being a robot would be nice at times. Everything would be so much easier.).

Now, I know it probably sounds like I’m complaining for no good reason. Tons of people have it significantly worse. 

They do.

I am extremely lucky. 

However, I am going to continue to complain, because despite the fact that people have it worse.

It still sucks. 

My parents are fine with it, but they don’t really understand. 

No one does.

That's why I don’t talk about it. I don’t want to have to explain it to someone every single time I’m asked if I have a crush on anyone. Instead I just say “no I don’t”. Then sit there awkwardly as the person asking me tells me that “it's ok you’ll find someone” (with a patronizing smile) or worse they don’t believe me and just think that I do and am too embarrassed to tell them(and they tell me so, also with a patronizing smile). 

It hurts. 

I feel like it shouldn’t hurt. They are just trying to be nice/make conversation—they don’t know any better or different. 

And yet, it does.

It is a constant reminder that I am weird, worthless different.

Now, going back to why I don’t talk about it. Another reason to put it plainly is I am scared.

I have never been a victim of a hate crime and I never want to be (no one does). I’ve heard horror stories from others online who have experienced a-phobia first hand (I’m not going to go into detail but a decent amount of it boils down to rape in order to “fix” what is “broken”).

 It’s terrifying—so I keep quiet.

Part of me wants a “romantic” relationship, but I am too scared to put myself out there like that. Also do I really want that or is it just that I feel like I have to who knows (I certainly don’t at this point in my life). 

So I am left to just…

Hope I figure it out.

Hope that people will begin to understand.

Hope that I find someone who feels the same way.

But until then,

It hurts.

[aussiepineapple1st]

That Time of Month

Leon x F!Reader

A/N: This is my experience with periods. I don’t know exactly how they should normally work other than getting them at the same time every month. So I just went with what mine are like.

Words: 1,672 Contains: Fluff, Period talk, Domestic Leon.

Leon was coming home today, he had been in quarantine for the passed week. He had been texting you through your cheap burn phones. He always hated being stuck in DSO's Private hospital rooms, they were nice as you have stayed in there multiple times before. But you liked the quiet time where you could just read, draw and listen to music while you passed the time slowly. Not having to worry about your job. For Leon, however, it was absolute torture after the first 2 days. He would get antsy try to find something to do, anything! Colouring the provided adult colouring books, reading, he would listen to his music, but he would soon start pacing. He was mainly extroverted, though he didn't need to be out and doing something on the town type of extroverted. He liked his company, yes going out was a bonus, but he liked to be around people. You especially.

Your phone buzzes. "Almost home :P" You smile at the text and begin typing your reply.

"Don't text and drive." 

"Make me"

You just chuckle to yourself, placing your phone back down on the island bench. You had been cleaning all morning, having gotten back from a job yourself, but didn't come into contact with any viruses or parasites, so quarantine wasn't needed. The house was usually tidy because both of you seemed to be on a lot of jobs lately, seeming to come home, get one good night's sleep then back out on the field. But you had been home for 4 days now and had been lazy with dishes, plus the bathroom and bedroom needed a good cleaning and vacuuming. 

You did this all despite getting your period. You didn't get them on the regular maybe skipping a few months at a time to a few years, those times would get Leon's hopes up that you could be pregnant, but the tests were always negative. Luckily you had felt that cramping last night and put a pad on just to be safe. You felt like crap and would sometimes have to stop what you were doing, bending over to put pressure on your pelvis to help with the bout of pain. Currently you were standing in the kitchen doing the dishes, looking around the large space of your living area, your sink being on the island bench facing out so you could converse while cleaning up. The thought of how lucky you were despite your job and the things you have seen, you had an amazing 2 story house out in the hills, a loving boyfriend who you were hoping was going to propose to you at any time, but honestly didn't mind if you didn't get married. It was mainly the thought. You were basically husband and wife already, just without the legality and paperwork, and rings were a slight hazard, even though you would both wear gloves when out on a job.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the uncomfortable crampage turning up to a 9, causing you to squat down in a ball of discomfort and pain. You feel your skin going clammy and was sure you lost all your colour, one hand still holding onto the edge of the bench above your head. You were in so much pain you didn't even hear the door opening.

"I'm home!" Calls an all too familiar voice from the front door, all the way across the room from where the kitchen was. 

Strange.. There was no response? Leon was sure you were home. Dropping his keys in the bowl beside the entrance with a clang, he drops his bag while looking around. He could smell the citrus of the cleaning products you liked to use and saw a nicely lit house. You had opened all the curtains to the windows and letting a nice cool breeze in. Yeah you were definitely here, so why were not you running at him and leaping into his arms like he would normally be welcomed home.

"(Y/N)? You here?" He calls scanning the kitchen area and seeing some fingers, white from gripping the edge tight. They lift up and give a wave.

"Over here.." You say grunting out your words.

That didn't sound good, Leon makes his way towards the kitchen and peers around the island bench to see you scrunched up in a ball. He walks over to you and kneels down placing a hand on your shoulder, you felt all cold and clammy. "Hey.. What's wrong?" He asked with worry in his voice. Seeing your flushed face as you look up to him, your nose wrinkled in pain.

"Period.." Was all you could get out, exhaling through the cramp, this one was lasting a while.

Leon's shoulders relax, he thought you had been hurt, well, you were hurting, but it was nothing either of you could really do and you weren't bleeding out. Well.... You were, but this was the 'natural' type. "Alright, up we go." He said lifting you into his arms. He gives you a kiss on the temple as he walks you over to the lounge.

"Welcome home, by the way." You were starting to come back to reality, the cramping finally starting to calm to a more bareable pain.

"We really should get you checked out, I'm a guy and even I don't think this is normal." He said skipping over your welcome home, but it didn't go unappreciated.

"I know.. But when have I got the time? The appointments have to be made in advance and we don't know when we will be back or going out on jobs." You say as Leon places you down on the couch. He gives a frustrated look as you were very right, but he hated seeing you this way. It wasn't often, thank god, but when it did happen he absolutely abhorred that your body would do this to you.

"Do you think maybe you could be pregnant? You seem to be in more pain than normal?" He asked. "I heard one of the office girls talk about the pain she felt before she found out she was pregnant."

You shake your head. "No.. I'm bleeding this time."

"Oh.. Right." He sounded disappointed. You knew he wanted at least one kid. Though you were both getting older, and having a child in your line of work was just a death wish for the child. That or easy orphanage, and Leon was an orphan so he didn't want to put any child through that. But he still would have that glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Leon makes his way to the hallway leading to the bathroom, toilet and 2 guest rooms. Opening the doors of a closet built into the wall, he takes out a maroon wheat pack. Placing it in the microwave for 3 minutes, he searches around the kitchen cupboards for some snacks. You had said you were out shopping the other day when he called you from how bored he was, then he suddenly remembered. Walking over to his bag beside the front door he picks it up and takes it over to you. 

Kneeling down in front of you on the couch he reaches into his bag, pulling out some sour lollies, a box of Ferrero Rocher's and a very crushed flower he had picked on his way home. "Oh.. um.. This did look pretty." He said with a sheepish smile, you take it from his hand anyway and smell it.

"It still smells nice though." You smile and lean towards him, Leon closing the gap between you as your lips touch and a quick kiss.

The microwave beeps and he makes his way over there, removing the wheat back and bouncing it in his hand as it was hot to the touch to start with. You realise the room starting to get darker, hearing the curtains being closed.

"You don't have to, I know you like the sunlight coming through."

"I do, but we can't watch a movie with the glare." He replies. Grabbing a blanket from the another couch before laying it over you, placing the wheat pack over your pelvis. You sigh with relief after a short moment, Leon standing beside you until he heard your discomfort lessening. 

"What movie were you thinking of watching?" You ask knowing what the answer was going to be already. 

"Do you even have to ask?" He said grabbing the remote controls, sitting you up he grabs a few pillows to place on his lap so you could lean against them.

"Kung Fu Panda 2 it is then." You smile as you lean back into the pillows and as Leon wraps his arms around you. You were already eating the sour lollies he had bought. "Did you just happen to grab these?"

"Well I was going to ask if you wanted a date night and this could be after snacks. But plans have changed and I'll go out to get some takeaway." He answers pressing another few kisses to your temple. He had really missed you, both dancing around each other with separate jobs lately over the passed month. You would come home and Leon would have been pulled out to work that previous night, then he would come home and you had been sent international that morning.

"Sorry.." You apologise feeling guilty that you had ruined his plans.

"Sorry? It's not your fault you're in pain." He reasons, not accepting the apology. "Besides, I get a week off so we can do whatever you want when you are ready." He smiled and starts to search for his favourite movie. 

You both spend the rest of the afternoon watching the movie then catching up, just talking about your jobs and what you had experienced, needing to talk to each other about it and how you were feeling. Leon then leaves to get some Chinese and sushi, coming home with many different options. Tonight was a night of alcohol, laughing and feasting.

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat