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writerunnamed · 9 months ago

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note: I am both shocked, and grateful at the response this story has gotten. I didn't tag anyone, and I expected maybe a few people to be into it but you proved me so wrong. So thankful that you all like it, please don't be shy. Slide into the dms, spam me with asks, lets go nuts together. xo (thanks so much for going through and betaing this chapter @frannyzooey xo) Joel(stepdad), significant age gap, female reader. 18+ legal, reader is 20 (warnings: pov sex, shower sex, really inappropriate dirty talk, slight Dom-Joel vibes, daddy kink, heavy guilt) 4k word count masterlist

The guilt doesn’t creep in, it consumes like a five alarm fire. It’s weight holding you pressed to your bed as the shadows in your room stretch out with the fading of the golden hour light. The darkness helps, but not nearly enough to make any kind of a difference.

He’d left after, closing your bedroom door behind him with your slick still smeared all over his dick and the realization of what you’ve done keeps hitting you. It keeps dropping stones in your gut, further weighing you down, naked, in the incriminating wet patch on your sheets. You hear your mother open the front door an indeterminable amount of time after. Your face burns, your heart races, she has to know. Surely she’d felt it, like a phantom limb while she was working, a ghost knife in the shape of her daughter, stabbing her in the back.

You wait, barely breathing, sheets clutched in the talons of your fingersfor her to storm in, to rip you out of the house by your skin but it doesn’t happen. You hear him laugh, hear them chat as though nothing has happened. Your heart rate steadily lowers, and it becomes apparent that her wrath isn’t pending.

The ax hanging over your head is being held by you, and no one else.

You stay there, uncomfortable, ashamed, cold, until it’s late enough that the house falls silent. Then, and only then do you get up and change the sheets. You pad out to the bathroom and shower, silently telling yourself that it was a temporary lapse in judgment. It was a psychotic episode. It was a hallucination, there’s no way you’d actually done that. It must have been imagined, but then you clean between your legs and feel the soreness and curse yourself all over again.

You do your best to wash him off of you, wash the whole encounter, the whole mistake, and vow to yourself to never give it another thought. You console yourself with the thought that he must feel awful too, surely. He was probably lying there next to your mother, terrified with guilt. The devil on your shoulder, that cruel thing inside laughed at your naivety, practically yelling at you to smarten up. He doesn’t feel guilty, he’s probably snoring, his balls empty, his body pleasantly tired without a care in the world.

Sleep eventually finds you, giving you the blissful respite of the dreamless dark.

—

A week goes by and you can almost convince yourself it had been a dream. Your mother is her normal, distant, distracted self. Joel works and blessedly you have managed to avoid any unsupervised interactions. Your brain however, has splintered and each shard has its role. The first keeps you sane, it does it best to make sure you focus on anything but the event you will not name. Another convinces you that things have almost fixed themselves since… well, that. It fools you into believing that it was somehow a cure. Things feel better in the house. The tension is gone, Joel seems disinterested, your mother is preoccupied. A tentative truce has somehow been enforced.

There is another shard, an unwelcome and unruly and now untethered part of you that screams for a repeat performance. It begs and pleads for you to corner Joel and take what he gave again and again. The other aspects keep it restrained for most of the day. Work, responsibilities, the general needs and demands of the day take up most of your bandwidth but at night, at night it reigns supreme and without opposition.

In the comforting dark of your now tainted space, that illicit part of you floods your mind's eye with the vision of Joel there, in your bed. It recalls the feeling of his mouth on your nipples with crystalline clarity, makes you feel the way he molded your body to take him, the way you came around his cock with that word in your mouth.

You were grateful for the toy, but he’d been so frustratingly right about it not doing much. After him, the toy was a tease. It was barely a taste of what he’d been able to do, but it didn’t stop you from using it. It was the safest option, until you could find someone appropriate.

Or get the fuck out of that house and forget about the whole thing.

More days pass, and that tension filters through your defences, It glides in and fills every angle of the house, every corner with a need borne of your interlude.

Joel’s eyes linger again, he tracks your movements whether your mother is around or not. He smiles, he tests, pushes your limits with a passing hand on your lower back. His fingers linger when he hands you a plate or a mug, he sits close enough for his thighs to press to yours on the couch, the soft light of the tv and the lamp casting shadows across you both.

Your mother doesn’t pay attention, or doesn’t see it. You are not a threat to her relationship, why would you be? In any normal, healthy family this would never be something to be worried about, not in a million years. In a proper family, a stepfather would not fuck his stepdaughter.

A stepdaughter would not fantasize about it either.

The guilt builds the more time passes, but it wars with another, less wholesome feeling. Desire. Unadulterated lust. There is a part of you, a growing, strengthening part that craves him, that bombards you with different ways to have him inside you again, to beg him to fuck you harder, to give it to you longer, to beg for him to come inside you and mark you as his own and this scares you half to death.

Soon though, it eclipses that guilt and takes you to the breaking point.

It comes to a head one day, when you come home to both of them smiling and happy.

“Hey babygirl.”

He smiles when you set your bag down and you ignore the way your body comes to life with that endearment.

“Go on up and get dressed, I’m takin’ my girls out for dinner.”

Your mother beams, sliding her arms around his waist with a dreamy smile. “I got a promotion, Joel is going to treat us.” She’s in a very good mood.

“Oh, I’m alright, bit tired but you two go ahead. Have a drink for me.” You smile your sincerest smile, urging them to leave you alone. The toy floats in your brain, calling to you with the promise of the momentary relief it brings, however paltry compared to him.

“Nonsense. Go on, we’re all goin’.” He raises an eyebrow, and you sigh, already resigned. “Go on, don’t make me ask you again, we gotta celebrate.” There is a playful, yet iron-strong tone that you know in your heart you cannot disobey.

“We can go on our own if she wants to stay.” Your mom combs his hair back with her fingers, fixing it and he lets her, smiling down at her as you make your way up the stairs.

“We’re all goin’-” It’s the last thing you hear him say before you close your door and go about getting dressed.

It’s a pretty fancy steakhouse, a place you’d only ever been to once on a date. He’d put on a nice shirt, and your mom wore one of her nicer dresses. You couldn’t exactly wear leggings, so you’d dug out a dress of your own and trudged along despite your wish to be anywhere but.

He slid into the booth beside you. You said nothing.

Your mother talks about her job, about how happy she is they’re taking notice of all her hard work and you’re genuinely proud of her. Growing up you don’t remember her holding down a job for more than a few months, Joel had changed that too. He’d pushed her to buckle down and take her employment seriously and it had paid off. It was just another one of those contradictory things about him, something you should have loved him for, a genuine, paternal thing but it didn’t mesh with your new dynamic.

Paternal. What a joke.

The food is good, and you enjoy it in relative silence while your mother prattles on about her work, her manager, her team while Joel smiles and looks her in the eye. It’s almost pleasant, almost normal, the three of you, mother, father and daughter in a dark little booth celebrating a win.

It’s almost nice, until you feel his hand on your knee under the table.

You jump, the shock of it making you drop your fork.

“You alright babygirl?” He smiles, genuine concern on his face as heat floods your body and you nod, frantically. With a tight smile you go to pick it up but he stops you, and ducks under the table to fish for it. Your mom laughs it off and you smile, blood pounding when you feel his hand again while he’s reaching for the fork. It moves your skirt up, exposing more of your thigh.

“I’ll ask the waiter for a new one.” He sits up and winks, adjusting himself so he’s a little closer. His hand lands back on your thigh and his thumb strokes at the skin, little circles that make you lightheaded.

“I think I need to use the little girls room.” Your mother puts her napkin on the table and for a moment you think this is your chance. If she asks if you need to go, you’ll jump at the chance – but his hand tightens, just enough to let you know to stay put.

She doesn’t ask, and when she rounds the corner he turns to you, eyes bright with the same lust you’ve been stomping down inside.

“Happy you’re here babygirl, been missin’ you.” His hand slides up until it’s pressed against your core. Your breath comes in pants, and you’re rendered silent.

“Been dreamin’ about havin’ you again. Been fightin’ the urge to sneak in and spread you out on that little bed, eat that pretty little cunt til you’re cryin for me to fuck you.”

He presses close, tilting your face up to press his lips against yours soft enough to tickle. “You been thinkin’ about me?” He presses another little kiss, and you pull away, terrified to see strangers staring at you disgusted.

No one is looking though, and he knows.

“Joel, stop, not here.” You’re frantic, heart racing, pussy leaking.

“Who am I?” he raises his eyebrows, expecting.

You close your eyes, letting out a sigh. “She’ll be back any minute.”

“Say it babygirl, say what I know you’re wantin’ to say. Who am I?” His hand lands on your thigh again.

It’s on the tip of your tongue and you hate that he’s right, you do want to say it. You want to scream it.

“...Daddy.” It’s barely a whisper, but it feels so good.

“Little louder honey.” He slides up, pressing his fingers against your clit.

“Daddy, please–” You give in, and it comes out almost a moan. There’s that sense again, of falling into a trap you hadn’t seen him set but it’s secondary to the self-satisfied smile on his face, to the way your body primes itself for whatever he deems fit. Your thighs clamp around his hand, the restaurant falls away and all that matters is his warm breath ghosting across your face, his strength, the press of his fingers.

“That’s better.” He smiles, and moves away and it’s with an unspeakable relief that you see your mother round the corner again, eyes on her feet while you adjust and move further away. The guilt gnaws at you, but the other thing rages, paints her as an interruption for a moment before you reign it in. She smiles when she slides into her side of the booth.

“How ‘bout we get dessert? I could do with a little somethin’ sweet.” He smiles, and she agrees.

They chat idly on the drive back to the house. She mentions how the excitement has given her a headache, and he urges her to go rest. It’s terrifying, the change in him: his attitude with her, his obvious care and the juxtaposition to his behavior in the restaurant.

Needing a break from the tension he built inside you earlier, you grab a change of clothes and run for the shower, grateful for the temporary oasis.

You try to take your time, to focus on anything and everything except the overwhelming need to be fucked into your matress. A few, blissfully steam-filled minutes later you hear the bathroom door open.

“Mom?” You call out, but after a few silent moments you think you might have imagined it. Until the curtain opens and Joel steps in as naked as the day he was born.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You let out a terrified whisper and your first instinct is to cover yourself.

“Calm down, your mama’s sleepin’. She was feelin’ drained' from work and everythin’ so she took an ambien.” He steps towards you, forcing you to take a step back. “This water’s fit to burn my skin off.” He hisses but doesn’t adjust the temperature.

He steps under the spray while you tuck yourself against the corner, shaking from the chilly tile pressing against your back. Your arm is pressed to your front covering your breasts, and the other is cupping your pussy, hiding your bits from his gaze. In contrast, he’s unbothered by his nakedness. His cock is soft, his arms are strong, his middle a little soft, but his beauty is undeniable. This is a man’s body, and you take it in with increasing want.

Your eyes betray you, your body betrays you, everything inside you seems to scream betrayal when he’s alone with you like this. He tilts his face up into the hot spray. He’s so fucking handsome, so virile, so hung. You kick yourself as you stare at his cock, already knowing that you’re going to give in to him, despite your mother being asleep just down the hall.

“Come on babygirl, get under the water with me.” He reaches forward, taking your hand and pulling you towards him. You let him, heart fluttering like a bird in a cage at the feel of him pressing you close to him. The water cascades over you both, steam billowing out and his hands travel the expanse of your back. They slide over your shoulders, reaching down to cup your backside. He pulls you closer, pressing his mouth to yours and you can’t help but moan.

He smiles, moving his kisses to your neck, your shoulders and that thing inside you wins yet again. Your hands press against his chest, they move over the muscles of his arms that you cannot help but stare at, they caress his back and up to curl through the hair at the base of his neck.

You pull his face to yours for a deeper kiss, the kiss you’ve been craving since he left you wet and trembling in your bed. He groans when your tongue licks into his mouth and then it changes. From an almost sweet exploration, to a desperate need to consume one another. His cock hardens against your belly and your cunt aches at the feel of it.

“Give it to me, I want it.” Someone who cannot be you begs him, clutching at his hair when he licks at your neck, his hands palming at your breasts as your back hits the tile again.

“What do you want, baby?” He lifts your thigh, wrapping it around his hip as he slots his cock at the seam of your cunt. He doesn’t press, just glides it between your legs, never notching the blunt tip of it at your entrance like you hope he will. The head of it nudges at your clit and he rocks it against you, teasing you into madness.

You know what he wants, you want it too. As hard as he is, as desperate as you know he is to slip inside, he has all the patience in the world.

He knows this. He also knows that you are much more desperate than him.

“I want your cock daddy, please, I need it.” You all but moan, some, pathetic, half-human thing burning with a fever, begging to be fucked like a whore. Begging him. The one person you shouldn’t beg this from.

“Such a good girl, such a quick learner.” He finally grasps himself in hand, making sure you watch him as he angles himself and slides home in one smooth, brutal stroke. The moan you let out is a loud, filthy thing.

“Shh, can’t have you makin’ all that noise honey,” He slips his forearm under your calf to open you up wide, his other hand coming up to wrap around your throat. He snaps his hips hard enough to make everything bounce and you cannot imagine ever being this fucking turned on, this hot for another person.

“Or maybe you do, maybe you want your mama to come in here, see how well her babygirl takes her daddys cock.”

You close your eyes at that, it’s too filthy, it’s too depraved but your cunt still drools out its passion for him.

“You get so wet when I tell you how well you take it, even here I can feel her soakin’ me.” He stares at the juncture of your thighs- watches himself spearing you with his cock. Your eyes are half-glazed, admiring the way his neck strains, the definition in his arms, the way his mouth hangs open. His skin red from exertion and the heat of the water.

He’s right, something inside feeds off his praise no matter how fucking wrong it is, you need it.

“Yes daddy, I like it.” You confess, already damned anyway.

“I know baby, I know.” He lets go of your throat and holds onto your ass before sticking his tongue down your throat. You whimper into his mouth, holding onto his neck for dear life while inching closer and closer to the orgasm building in your hips, in the base of your spine.

“Wanna feel her now, come all over me honey-“ he begs in your ear, his hips stuttering slightly and a madness overtakes you as you shove your fingers into his mouth and slip them down over your clit. He moans, pressing his palm into the hinge of your knee, somehow opening you up even more and then it’s there, in your fingers, in your limbs and in your very soul.

“Yes, that’s it baby, yes-“ he turns his thrusts into a grinding roll, and it’s with a horrified glee that you feel him paint your insides in his come. Your eyes glued to the place you’re joined, a curious thought springs up unbidden: nothing in the world could pull you away from him at that moment, with his cock inside and his hands on your body. That realization should scare you but it doesn’t. Would your mom bursting through the door make you come to your senses? Do you really want to know the answer to that question?

“Daddy… I can feel it really deep.” You say the words in what feels like a drunken stupor and he lets out a punched out groan, pulling out to watch as he drips out of the place you now know he fucking owns.

“That’s where it belongs, honey. Nice and deep.” He lowers your leg, but pulls you close and tucks you under his chin.

“Daddy loves you, you know that right? I’m so proud of you baby.”

You’re exhausted, but the guilt doesn’t come as quickly as the first time. It’s hard for it to make it through the comfort of the hot water, the cocoon of his arms, the steady reassuring thump of his heart under your cheek. The soft press of his lips to your forehead.

He stays. He washes your hair, cleans his come from between your legs and the fatherly lines of him blur even more.

It’s wrong. You know it. It’s obviously so fucking wrong. But it feels so right, it feels good, it feels safe for him to shield your eyes from the suds, for him to massage the knots out of your back, for him to kiss you soft, for his fingers to pluck at your soapy nipples.

When you’re done and in bed, you fall asleep, and dream of a steamy bathroom and soft, chapped lips at your temple.

–

The next morning finds you well-rested. That might actually bother you more than it should, comparatively speaking. That he would be the person to fuck you well enough to give you a good nights sleep seems like some cosmically cruel joke. Memories of your mother sleeping in on Saturdays after a night out with him make you groan into your pillow.

Any acceptance, any complicity was far and foreign in the unforgiving light of day. All of the comfort you’d felt in the tail-end of that unholy shower now angered you. It was manipulation, it was coercion, how could you do that? Let him in, in all of the different ways he’d managed to push inside you in the time since you’d been home, past your protective walls and quite literally between your fucking legs. It had to be something he’d done to make you crazy. A temporary insanity, surely,

You let out a huff, noting but almost unseeing the dust motes dancing in shafts of light coming in through the window. The guilt was heavy and hot in your belly, and not only because of the betrayal but because you knew, deep in your soul, that you would not–could not deny him. That was a fact.

The pillow at your side found itself pressed to your face to cover the groan of frustration at the cringy realization that you were just another woman with daddy issues.

Hours you laid there, torturing yourself with so many flavors of guilt.

Guilt at indulging, guilt at craving, guilt at knowing that you’d most likely doing it again, guilt at tentatively imagining other places you wanted him to fuck you. Guilt at the look of devotion on your mother’s face when he smiled at her. Guilt at the dark, cruel little thing that rejoiced at him wanting you so bad.

They were both sitting at the kitchen table when you finally came downstairs. Your stomach dropped at the sight of him sitting there, in his usual place with the paper in his hands. His face gave nothing away when he looked up at you, a talent he shouldn’t have.

“Good morning, sleep okay?” Your mom smiled, moving to the sink.

“Yeah, slept great.” You smile back and you almost feel Joel’s chest puff out. You ignore him.

“That’s good, why don’t you come do groceries with me? I’m going to do a big trip so you guys aren’t starving while I’m gone next week.”

She misses your frown as she empties the dishwasher. Something big wraps itself around you, something foreboding, something inescapable. His paper flicks almost imperceptibly in the corner of your eye and still, you ignore it.

“What do you mean?” You question her, but it’s almost prophetic, because you already know.

“I thought I’d told you, I have a work trip. A conference, because of the promotion. I’m leaving on Monday morning, and I’ll be gone until Thursday. I wanted to leave the fridge full so the two of you don’t have to worry. Want to come?”

She’s still focused on putting away the dishes when you finally meet his eye. Your stomach rolls at the wink he flashes you. You can feel his thoughts like a sunburn, skin tight with the burn of it, at the promise of all of the things you already know he’ll make you do.

The things you know, deep down, you’ll beg him for.

Fuck.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x y/n #joel x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #tw stepdad #daddy joel #daddy k!nk

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ineffectualdemon · 11 months ago

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My various AU Shen Jiu's

Fast Times at Cang Qiong Mountain (Aka Shen Jiu and Shang Qinghua become friends AU): Asshole but not yet abusive not has he burned all bridges. Is walked from the edge by deciding Shang Qinghua is his stupid younger brother. Also Shang Qinghua blocks all his attempts at becoming the fully fledged scum villain. 0% scum villain 100% that friend who goes to far too often

Disciple Shen Yuan Au: he wants to abuse this Shen Yuan brat SO BAD but the little shit keeps manipulating situations so it works out better for Shen Jiu if he doesn't smack that smug look of the brats face. Also he knows by the look in the brata eye that if he hits him he loses somehow and Shen Jiu HATES losing. He has abused others but he does lose the taste for it after awhile. Just because over time his unwilling attachment to the brat has opened his eyes to Shen Yuan's way of being mean with words. He's 100% a dick and would be abusive if it didn't mean losing. Would be a scum villain if left unsupervised so we'll say 60% scum villain

Plant Shen Jiu AU: 0 reform. Would 100% abuse kids if given access again and would kill Luo Binghe if he didn't know it would destroy the world and Qi-ge. Absolutely evil bastard who enjoys ruining people's day. Gets most of his sadism out of his system by a consensual but supremely unhealthy sadomasochistic relationship with Yue Qingyuan. 100% scum villain not at all reformed just has found a new calling in being a Problem without being an actual Villian

#svsss #shen jiu #disciple shen yuan au #plant shen jiu au #fast times at cang qiong mountain

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midnight-proxi · 6 months ago

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.:Ŧħɇ ⱣłȺǥᵾɇ:.

.:Infected Doctor Strange x Gn!Reader:.

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A/N: I been having brain rot of Marvel Zombies lately as I bought a book called The Hunger: A Marvel Zombies Novel and I always see it at my local bookstores and I never bother to get it until now. I only read the short preview pages of the book on google to have a sense of plot that is going on but I'll be making up as I go with this. However, I did read the original story run of Marvel Zombies (2005), Marvel Zombies: Resurrection, Zombies Assemble and bits of Marvel Zombies: Black, White and Blood. Anyway, I'll be trying to connect the story plot from Original run of Marvel Zombies (2005) and try to link them to Marvel's What If: Season 1 Episode 5. Hope you enjoy it! If you guys want me to make a full series, let me know and I'll try to make it happen. As mention, it's a bit of 18+ as I'm writing this as a really short story than a full length version. I might even rework on the Yandere Strange Supreme x Reader fic as well as that need a renew and repolish.

Yes, there are some errors here as I'm slowly trying to correct them as I was half asleep writing this and posted it xD

Warning: foul language, mention of gore, blood, and of course, zombies eating the uninfected. For now, this will be 17+ as I'll be describing graphic details somewhere! You all have been warn and enjoy...

Summary: A flash of purple light bursting upon the skies of New York when a strange being descended down to Earth. Little did they know when their world will soon crumble. It was no surprise when the reader’s day off turned into a nightmare straight out from a horror movie. The person who may know the incident is their partner, Doctor Strange. But little did they know something felt off about him…

Word count: 2,724

Oh god. Oh god! Oh God!

It was all you could think in your mind; you were not preparing for this. Nobody is. The sounds of screams echo through the streets of New York, civilians running and trampling away from the horde of superheroes who turned into zombies. Nobody knew where the virus came upon or where it originated from as little info from the news saying patient zero: Sentry was the cause of this horrific event causing the heroes to go on rampage eating and shredding the civilians into pieces. This plague. This virus. This hunger consumes anything that comes in contact.

In panic scrambling to reach for your phone from your jean pocket, you try to contact your friends and loved ones through text or calling if they are all right or at least in a safe haven. 'Shit no signal' you thought to yourself running, trying to push anyone to make your way towards the Sanctum Sanctorum. Praying to Vishanti, the others are okay and even your partner, Stephen. Pushing the doors open to the Sanctum and quickly shut it and lock them. Trying to catch your breath against the door, still hearing the cars crashing and screams from outside; however, the Sanctum felt a bit anonymous but more eerie than it should be.

"Hello? Is anyone here" you called out from the main entrance near the grand staircase. No answer. "Wong?”

“Stephen?” Still no answer. The silence eerie creeped over the Sanctum, taking a deep breath as you quickly walked over the kitchen hoping someone is occupied. Taking a quick peek at the entrance towards the kitchen, scanning the room looked a bit normal except for some cut vegetables on the cutting board and unsupervised pot boiling over the stove top. Without a second though you quickly turn off the knob, what puzzled you was unusual for Wong to leave anything on even if he did use magic. Moving your way out from the kitchen walking towards the stairs to the upper floor without taking a moment over the other side of the stove was a trail of blood on the floor, on the wall formed a bloody handprint left behind by someone unknown.

Searching each room on the upper floor including the main bedroom where you and Stephen shared but nothing seemed out of place. Closing the door behind you as you quickly walked down the long hallway towards the other staircase led to grant room where all the artifacts were displayed and where the big window of Vishanti’s protection spelled is found. Taking a few steps into the room when you spotted some of the glass cases shedder with some of the artifacts scattered or destroyed, taking much further in to grab the artifacts and place them back into their display cases when you notice blood covered in one of the staff. Leaning closer to the spot as it was freshly printed, did a struggle occur here before you arrived? Did someone or something attack Stephen and Wong? So many questions clouded your mind when you hear a noise of a soft groan echo from around the room snapped you out from your trans, not knowing where the sound was coming from as you looked around the room. Still gripping on the staff in your hand as you make your way to the noise, keeping on your guard in case something comes out and jumps at you.

Another few steps when another groan echoed in the room with the groan got a bit louder, but a new sound came into the mix. A loud squish noise if someone pour out the last few drops of ketchup onto a plate as you walk a bit closer to it. Whatever it was might be a stray, or an extraterrestrial stray just crashed into the Sanctorum. “Please be a stray. Please be a stray” you repeated yourself quietly as you try to steady your breathing.

Nearly slipping through your verses looking down on your feet noticing more blood trail before your feet, unsteadying your breath as shadow flies toward gripping below your waist nearly knocking you off balance almost slip from the blood trail. Slowly looking below your waist was a red fabric clinching on to you, knowing who it is. It was Cloak gripping you tightly as they tried to pull you into your feet. “Cloak! I’m so glad to see you” you said excitedly. “Do you know where Ste- “

Before you finish your sentence, Cloak tries to pull you away, preventing you from going any further. You gently tugged them away from your waist, pulling them to the side but it quickly grabs your left arm. “Cloak, I know you want to leave this place but right now, I need to find Wong and Stephen. They might know what’s going outside” you said tried not to raise your tone.

Poor Cloak desperately tries to pull you away as your curiosity prevents you from seeing whatever the sound and broken displays cases prevent the mess in the room. A couple of steps further in the room, a whiff of an unpleasant odor struck your nostrils, covering with one of your hands when you spotted a figure about 10 feet away from you, hunched down on eating something off the floor, could be animal its eating. Taking a few more steps when you saw something that made your eyes widen a bit, it looks more human than animal as a ray of purple lightning flashes through the window to brighten up the room with the humanoid quickly dashed away. In your horror your eyes widen even more seeing your friend Wong on the floor with his lower half eating away with his guts oozing out from his stomach with blood surrounding the falling hero. You quickly rushed towards him as Cloak lets go of your arm to his aid, knowing he was beyond responding with no pulse, falling to your knees not caring about his blood soak on your jeans. Gently caressing his cheek as of you falling friend as tears slowly form from your eyes, what kind of sick creature killed him this way. Cloak floats towards you as it wraps itself around your shoulder comforting you expressing its sorrow of his friend.

The sound of heavy boots erupts fills the empty room as it stops midway towards you. “Y/n?” the faint voice called out.

You quickly stood up from the familiar voice with Cloak on edge trying to pull away from the figure, you tried to calm it by gently brushing the fabric, but Cloak didn’t like the idea for you to take a closer towards the figure. “Stephen?” you said quietly trying to make out the figure in front of you.

The figure didn’t say anything but nodded to its name as it slowly extended their arms out for you as invite you to embrace them but the little voice in your head says otherwise. Telling you to step away from the being and leave, you called its name once more. “It is really you Stephen?” you said once more gripping on the staff.

The figure took a closer step to the light for a better light, it was indeed him! Your partner, Stephen Strange! His robe looked a bit damaged and ripped with his front side covered bits of blood and some scratch marks in his hands and face; however, he looked in bad shape after a battle, but something was a bit off as your conscience keeps telling you. You quickly rushed towards him dropping the staff on the ground with Cloak still hanging on your shoulders giving him a big hug as a sigh of relief to see your partner. “Stephen, I’m glad you’re okay! I tried to find you all over the sanctum, as something wrong with the heroes as they’re eating the civilians, and I couldn’t find you and Wong...” you said as tears started to fall from your cheeks. “Oh Wong... I don’t know what happened to him as something killed or….”

Stephen didn’t say anything as he wipes some of your tears from his bloody hands, placing your hand over his feeling his present welcome but something felt off about him but not sure if it’s the aura or the felt of blood from his hands felt unnormal. You scan over Stephen notice a hole in his right arm that looks like a bite mark, a human bite mark deepen into his skin. Your eyes widened to realization as you quickly pointed it the bloody mark. “Stephen, your arm! Did something bite you? We have to get you clean up!” you said in a panic, but Stephen dismissed it as it just a demonic creature bite him during a battle earlier.

He moved one his hand to caress your soft hair wrapped around his fingers, your skin looked so divine, casting from the light it shine and how sweet you must taste, Cloak sense something was off with the Doctor as it quickly yanks you away from him nearly fell backwards almost falling on top of them. “Cloak! What are you doing?” you yelled at the floating cape.

Cloak flaps with their ends signaling to you something wrong, very wrong with Stephen, he’s not his usual self. “What do you mean he’s not normal, Cloak?”

“How rude for Cloak to interrupt our sweet reunion but, I have to take you away from here to a safer place” Stephen said trying not to alarm you. “We better gear up in case they come. We must hurry before the others come and find us.”

Stephen turns his back at you, signaling Cloak to return to him, but they didn’t budge as they were clinging on your shoulder. You quickly grab the staff you had in your hand earlier as you concentrate with little magic you learn from Stephen as the end of the staff quickly turns into a blade. “Stephen, did you get bitten?” you asked pointed the blade at your partner. “Answer me!”

Stephen didn’t want to face you covering his wound in his right arm taking a small breath. “Before the chaos started, I went out to investigate after I sense something awful is going to happen in the middle of New York after we both saw a flash erupting at the sky. I told Wong to stay on guard at the sanctum once I returned. I quickly flied to investigate from a far when I saw the Avengers beat me to it but notice something was off when Sentry started to attack them, biting them, and scratching their flesh only to my horror when they attack the civilians and eating them.”

“I tried to hurry back to the sanctum, but I got sidetracked to save some of the civilians from the Avengers when out of nowhere, Venom came by to attack me on the roof tops. I tried casting spells on this maniac who attacked me but none of my magic won’t turn him back to normal. He quickly use his symbotic web to attach me against the wall, just as I before I could cast my spells; he…. He…”

Before he could finish his story unexpectedly, he quickly laughed, a wicked laugh made you jump a bit as you’re not used to it yet alone from Stephen. He quickly turns to face you with a wicked smile on his face like he’s ready to strike you, play with you until you’re off guard, you taken a few steps back from him, but Stephen follows you with every step. “Oh Y/N. My sweet Y/N. I wish you didn’t find out this way, I could of spare your life at least unlike Wong, he was exceedingly difficult to purse him” Stephen said with wicked grin. “At least he died with dignity.”

“You ate him! You ate Wong, you fucking psychopath!” you yelled at him with tears streaming down once more.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. This hunger, I couldn’t control myself when I ate him. He screamed in agony! Telling me to stop…. Oh god...” The feeling of guilt took over as he suddenly fell down onto his knees, distracting himself of him eating his friend, you quickly ran away from him running to the halls away from your sick partner. Turning to the halls with so many doors but you didn’t have time to stop and decide as you quickly open a door closest to you and quickly went inside closing the door behind you. A cold breeze blows through your body with Cloak trying to cover you; you looked around a frozen winter wonderland as you quickly ran through the plane hoping to find a door to get out of this place. You curse at yourself for not grabbing a sling ring to open portals like Wong told you few months ago to keep. Out of nowhere, a portal slowly opens as you dash away from the portal at least to get a far distance away from him. Stephen jumps out from the portal seeing you making your getaway, he chuckles as he open another portal to your location trying to grab you but in a nick of time, Cloak pulls you away and quickly flies away from his formal master.

Stephen casts a spell to capture you, but Cloak tries to dodge it to get to the door before Stephen cast another spell. Quickly open the entrance as you make your way to another door in the far left as you open the door; you saw a room filled with bones. Piles of Bones with skeleton walking among the skulls but you quickly shut the door before hearing Stephen’s voice calling out to you and run to the end of the hallway. “Y/N, you can’t hide away from me for too long, my dear” he called out.

Searching for any kind of room to catch your breath until you randomly open a door and quickly close behind you, you cast a small light only to see some boxes piling on one side, another was some bookshelves, and another side were some old antique furniture. You quickly hide squeezing your way between a bookshelf and an old display counter, you cast a small disguise spell to blend in with environment. Letting go of your weapon next to you as you steady your breath, wrapping your legs close to your chest with Cloak wrapping you tightly, praying someone could come and rescue you away from this nightmare. You pray this entire incident is just a nightmare and you’ll wake up in your shared bedroom with Stephen. Your normal Stephen. You heard sizzling from a portal opening, hearing those heavy boots you knew he’s here and he’s hungry…

“Y/N, come on out. I know you’re here; I can still smell the stench of Wong’s blood on your clothes,” said Stephen scanning the room. “I won’t eat you; I promise. I’ll lock you somewhere safe away from me until I find a cure for this virus…”

Hearing his voice made you shake to the core, covering your mouth trying not to make a sound feeling him getting closer to your hiding spot. Tears started to form again praying to Vishanti he won't find you and let him leave, he couldn’t be able to find you as quickly opens the door and leaves the room. You felt a sigh of relief that he didn’t find you; letting go of your hiding spot to check if the coast is clear. Cloak unhooked themselves from your shoulder to search the room before you could leave the room, another sigh of relief as you quickly got up from your spot with to be safe. Oh, how wrong you felt when a pair of arms quickly wraps you covering your mouth before screaming for Cloak to come back. Stephen hushed as you tried to wiggle yourself free from his grasp, but he quickly held you still, licking your skin with more tears started to come out. “Hush now my love, there’s no need to shed any more tears as this will be over soon enough. I’ll make sure to end this quickly and soon enough, you’ll understand this plaque. This beautiful gospel. This hunger…”

Before you know it, everything turned black as the sound of your muffle screams echo through the Sanctum Sanctorum…..

A/N: It's been awhile since I done a post anything in this account. Thank you all for sticking around even though I don't post anything here since my last fanfic/incorrect quotes. I know I'm slowly getting back into fanfic as I'm busy doing drawings for my main account and trying to finish up my school as I'll be graduating in Spring 2026! I wanted to create something of a horror Marvel fic for awhile back in October. Yes I know Halloween is over but I'm mentally there and I don't care if I put up my Halloween decorations; if people can put their Christmas stuff up until February, so can I! Anyway, I been going back and forth with my fandoms lately and I'm getting back to Marvel once again. I know shocker! That's what I get for being a multi-fandom and getting back into a fandom until something happens. Just like I did with Marvel's What If? All I could say it wasn't as good at the first season and bits of season 2.

#marvel #doctor strange supreme #stephen strange #doctor strange #marvel fanfiction #Marvel Zombies #doctor strange x reader #xreader #Marvel characters x Reader #gn reader #Horror fanfic #Spotify #Sorry everyone leaving you guys a cliffhanger xD

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outtoshatter · 6 months ago

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banner made by me but it is truly the fault of @robotcorsair that it exists. so. make of that what you will

HELLO DUNGEONS AND DADDIES FANDOM I'm back with another rec list! You want something quick to read, a little taste of your favorite ship? You want something to test out a ship you haven't decided on yet? Look no further, here's my bite-sized fics rec list!

by the stroke of midnight by misswhimsy/ @missanniewhimsy Rating: NR | Tags: Pre-slash, human sacrifice, bastardized Cinderella-AU | Word count: 200 | Summary: The bell rings out in the town square and Nick runs faster, he doesn't know if he can make it in time.

Apartment 17D by Cephalogod/ @cephalog0d Rating: T | Tags: Pre-relationship, Humor, fluff, meet ugly, remix | Word count: 300 | Summary: Lark is maybe possibly drunk and maybe definitely ready to just go home to his apartment. Which this definitely is. Right? An alternate POV remix of Gia's "Apartment 17C" Fondue by Cephalogod Rating: G | Tags: Bad cooking, can be read as shippy | Word count: 100 | Summary: Fluffcember 2024 Day 19 Featuring Nick, Lark and some unfortunate experiments in cooking.

kiss me, you fool by drabblecaster/ @stratfender Rating: T | Tags: Shut up kiss, double drabble | Word count: 200 | Summary: "You're not gonna kiss me goodbye?"

Watch Your Step by drabblecaster Rating: T | Tags: Hiking, bickering, triple drabble | Word count: 300 | Summary: Lark takes Nicky on a hiking trip.

(Dis)Missed Connection by Captain_Dogfish/ @supremely-unsupervised Rating: G | Tags: Drabble, Red string of fate, soulmates | Word count: 100 | Summary: Lark would like to opt out of having a soulmate, please.

Maintenance by Captain_Dogfish Rating: G | Tags: car repair, soulmates, red string of fate | Word count: 150 | Summary: You gotta put in the work to build a relationship (and take a car apart)

I can(t) explain by Zoynkzz / @zoynkzz Rating: T | Tags: Demon Nicky, Hunter Lark, meet ugly, open ending | Chapters: 2 | Word count: 371 | Summary: Lark Oak Garcia, demon hunting extraordinaire, catches a devil red handed.

Mechanisms for NOT Dealing With It by AnOctoberPepper/ @anoctoberpepper Rating: T | Tags: fluff, system Nicky, angst | Word count: 795 | Summary: Lark talks to Nicky about his smoking habits while Nicky tries not to burn breakfast.

Vessel by GiaSoFetch / @outtoshatter (me!) Rating: T | Tags: horror, demon Nick, at sea, supernatural bounty hunter Lark | Word count: 200 | Summary: Prompt words: cast, vessel, relevant Sacrifice by GiaSoFetch Rating: M | Tags: implied human sacrifice, blood drinking, established relationship | Word count: 300 | Series: The Game of Love and Fate | Summary: Every year, the village leaves a sacrifice for the devil in the woods.

Come to me by Kibbles423/ @2dents Rating: G | Tags: pirate AU, Siren!Nick | Word count: 300 | Summary: “Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest… yo-ho and a bottle of rum,” Nick sang, his eyes steeled on the small ship drifting closer and closer to his rocky cove. It wouldn’t be long now. His stomach rumbled at the thought. “Drink and the devil had done for the rest, yo-ho and a bottle of rum.” “They can’t hear you, Siren.”

Snack time by Kibbles423 Rating: T | Tags: blood drinking, drabble | Word count: 100 words | Summary: Nick wants a snack and thinks Lark's a good option.

#dungeons and daddies #dndads nark #dungeons and daddies nark #nick close|nicholas foster/lark oak #nick/lark #fic recs #rec list #long post #eyestrain #nick close | nicholas foster #lark oak garcia

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fameandfiction · 1 month ago

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IMAGINE PART I: “Grooming Session” — Reneé Rapp x Reader

— On Vacation Somewhere in Southeast Asia.

Tweet:

you use head & shoulders, I hire a monkey. we are not the same bro 🧠🐒��🛁

Attached: A grainy vertical video of you, on a rattan stool, laughing your lungs out while a monkey — a real, tiny, live monkey with wide eyes and grabby little fingers — is hunched over your scalp, dutifully picking at your dandruff like it’s a Michelin-starred meal. Behind the camera, someone is choking on laughter. That someone is Reneé Rapp. The caption on the video? “I HAVE NO WORDS.”

48 hours earlier...

Koh Samui. Lush greenery. Air so thick you could chew it. That warm, salty breeze off the coast that left your hair frizzy and your skin just dewy enough to feel cinematic. It had been three days since you and Reneé had arrived on what was supposed to be a romantic, restorative, and low-key vacation. Which, for the record, was exactly what Reneé had hoped for. Quiet mornings. Hand-holding through spice markets. Maybe a couples massage, if you behaved.

But from the minute you touched down, it became increasingly clear: you were feral. You were unhinged. You were, in her words, "somewhere between a toddler on sugar and an anthropology dropout with a God complex."

And she was still stupidly in love with you.

The Monkey Spa.

It started as a joke. You’d read a cracked-out Reddit post on “Monkey Grooming Therapy” in a dodgy travel thread back in California. “They eat your dandruff and bond with you,” you’d said, flashing your phone screen in Reneé’s face while she was trying to take an aesthetically moody picture of her coconut water.

“You want a primate… on your head?” she asked flatly.

“Think of it as eco-friendly exfoliation.”

She blinked at you. “No. Absolutely not. This is why I can’t leave you unsupervised.”

Cut to this morning: a tiny, sun-flooded hut tucked behind a fruit vendor’s stall. Bamboo wind chimes. A vaguely spiritual pan flute playing in the background. And you — sitting in your denim shorts and ‘I LOVE HOT MOMS’ tank — getting your scalp eaten by a monkey named Bobo.

You were grinning so hard your face hurt.

“This is peak,” you said, filming a selfie video. “Western hygiene could never.”

Bobo plucked a flake from your hairline, inspected it like a jeweler appraising a diamond, and popped it into his mouth with alarming precision.

You turned to Reneé, who was sitting cross-legged across from you, wearing her sunglasses on top of her head and her patience around her neck like a crucifix.

“I should marry him,” you whispered.

“You will not,” Reneé deadpanned.

“But he understands me.”

“He’s EATING YOUR DEAD SKIN.”

“He’s devoted.” You reached out toward Bobo with mock reverence. “He sees beauty in decay.”

Reneé collapsed into laughter, head tilted back, nearly falling off the bamboo bench.

Back at the resort.

Later that evening, the tweet had gone viral. Naturally. Your comment section was a jungle of memes, reaction images, and tweets like “I aspire to this level of idiocy and luxury simultaneously” and “why is this so lesbian-coded.”

Reneé scrolled through it with one eyebrow arched and the other trying not to join it. You were still wrapped in a towel, fresh out of the jungle-themed resort shower, hair slightly puffed up but suspiciously flake-free.

She tilted the phone toward you. “You’re aware you just made an international spectacle of yourself.”

You smirked, flopping dramatically onto the bed beside her. “Babe, I am the spectacle.”

“You’re a menace,” she said, trying — and failing — to keep her voice stern.

“I’m a pioneer.”

“You’re on a list now.”

“Good. Maybe they’ll let Bobo visit me in prison.”

She groaned, tossing the phone onto the bed and climbing over you, pinning you with her knees on either side of your waist.

“And to think,” she muttered, lips ghosting against yours, “this is who I fell in love with.”

You batted your lashes. “Me? A scalp-snacked buffoon?”

She kissed your forehead. “A supreme idiot.”

Later that night.

The two of you lay tangled on the outdoor daybed of your suite, the ocean breeze soft against your sun-kissed skin. The stars were clear above, unbothered by your antics. Reneé had her head on your chest, fingers tracing lazy shapes against your ribs.

“Do you ever get scared?” she asked suddenly.

You blinked. “Of monkeys?”

She swatted your stomach lightly. “No. Of being… like, seen. Like, really seen. By someone who doesn’t know when to stop laughing at you. Or tweeting about you. Or watching you like they can’t believe you’re real.”

Your heart thudded against your ribs. “You mean… you? Watching me?”

She nodded slightly, not lifting her head.

“I get scared all the time,” you admitted. “But not of you. Of messing up something good. Of making you regret falling for someone who thinks monkey spas are love language.”

She looked up at you then, eyes soft but sharp as always. “You made me laugh. You made me feel safe. Even while Bobo was performing brain surgery on you. And you loved me before I was easy to love.”

Your fingers grazed her cheekbone. “You’re still not easy.”

She laughed. “And you’re disgusting.”

You kissed her — slow, grateful, breathless.

Bonus Tweets Later That Week:

🧠 Reneé Rapp Updates Reneé has officially lost control of her girlfriend. Sources say she now responds to “Monkey Whisperer.”

🐒 @/you bobo if you’re reading this… she didn’t mean it

📸 @/reneerapp [photo of you sleeping on the plane ride home, wearing an eye mask and leaning on her shoulder] caption: can’t believe I’m in love with this supreme idiot.

#fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #x reader #Reneé Rapp #Renee Rapp #Reneé Rapp x reader #Renee Rapp x reader #RPF #Real People #Real Person Fiction #Real Person Fanfic

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jungkoode · 28 days ago

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Oh this game is the best thing ever! So, FMU!JK meeting KGP!Hoseok, KGP!Yoongi and a Namjoon of your choice

OHHHHH YESSSSSSS. BACK TO HUMOR AND CRACK. Oh this one’s JUICY.

Let’s set the scene—a glitch in the multiverse shoves FMU!Jungkook straight into a shared ops lounge inside Kkangpae HQ. Clean lighting. Industrial furniture. Five security cameras blinking red. FMU!JK appears in the middle of it like he fell out of a cereal box—bedhead, Sonic pajama pants, hoodie halfway zipped, holding a protein bar like it’s a weapon. Just. Absolute menace energy in marshmallow form.

KGP!Yoongi is the first to react. From his cave-corner, lit only by RGB screens and malice, he side-eyes the newcomer.

“…Why the fuck is Jeon wearing Sonic the Hedgehog.”

FMU!Jungkook doesn’t even blink. “They were on sale.”

KGP!Hoseok enters next, flipping through a tablet. Sees Jungkook. Freezes.

“Is he concussed again?”

“No,” Yoongi says. “He’s different. Look at him. He’s… functioning.”

“…Barely,” Hobi mutters.

Then—click. The door hisses open again.

And in walks MG!Namjoon, CEO of Graypoint Publishing. Silver streaks at his temples that he refuses to dye. Three-piece suit. Gold-rimmed glasses. He was mid-conference call when he got yoinked into this hell timeline, and he is visibly done.

He clocks the three men immediately. Yoongi staring at him like he’s royalty. Hoseok not screaming. Jungkook looking like less of an unsupervised toddler.

“Why,” Namjoon says slowly, “is Yoongi not being passive agressive.”

KGP!Yoongi straightens instinctively. “Supreme Commander.”

MG!Namjoon stares. “Why are you calling me that.”

“Oh he’s not our RM.” Hoseok mutters to Yoongi. “Mistake. In our world, you’re the boss. With a capital B. Military rank and everything.”

“Oh.” MG!Namjoon adjusts his glasses. “And you’re the HR nightmare, I presume.”

“That’d be Jessi, actually. I’m Chief Medical Officer, thank you very much.”

FMU!Jungkook pipes up around a bite of his protein bar. “Is anyone gonna explain why I’m in a spy movie?”

Yoongi makes a disdainful grimace. “Still deciding if you’re real or a fever dream.”

Hoseok sighs. “Still deciding if I want to sedate you.”

Namjoon turns to Jungkook, folds his arms. “You seem… more stable than usual.”

FMU!JK shrugs. “I’m in therapy.”

COLLECTIVE BLINK. BECAUSE W H A T. JUNGKOOK. IN THERAPY????

“Voluntarily?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah.”

Namjoon mumbles. “Does it work?”

“Not always,” Jungkook says. “But at least I’m functional now.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Yoongi, deadpan. “That’s… fucked up. Honestly.”

Hoseok gags. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “I think I’m going to hire you.”

Jungkook, chewing the protein bar. “Can I bring my therapist? She has really good snacks.”

Yoongi leans over to Hoseok. “If this Jeon is functional, does that mean our Jeon is the broken version?”

Hoseok whispers back. “I think our Jeon is the original version and this is like… the AU where his brain didn’t melt and he actually took professional advice.”

MG!Namjoon exhales through his nose. “My Jungkook once threatened to rewrite Ulysses as a Twitter thread because I rejected his last manuscript. He had footnotes in meme format. Footnotes.”

Everyone turns.

FMU!Jungkook: “That actually sounds kind of fire—”

“Don’t.” Namjoon sighs. “I need a drink. A real one.”

FMU!Jungkook, completely unfazed: “Y’all are intense. I’m gonna go look for cats.”

And he wanders off down the hall—Sonic pajamas swishing, hoodie flapping, no idea that every single man in that room is now deeply questioning their own version of Jungkook and how this one ended up so weirdly… outwardly stable-looking. (Except the pants.)

So yeah. FMU!JK meeting KGP’s inner circle = chaos.

And MG!Namjoon? Already writing a case study in his head called “Why Your Alternate Self Should Never Be Trusted with Jungkook.”

#askjungkoode #jungkoode multiverse

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serikyl · 3 months ago

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Hope it’s okay I’m showing off these tags, they both made me laugh very hard agshsjajakalal

#supremely-unsupervised #mintythyme

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falloutcoys · 1 year ago

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Made up fic titles game!! I have SO MANY TITLES just saved in a google document it's not even funny, I don't even have ideas attached to some of them. Have three to choose from :D

Blinded by those silver linings

That's the thing about survival

Everyday dreamer, part-time believer

thank you! so many aaaaa lets see...

That's the thing about survival is giving me a lot of good ideas... okay here's one.

Lark gets back to Midst, to Sherman. They didn't have much time to talk at his apartment, but now she can't avoid the conversation. He has a lot of questions. The conversation is interspersed with cutaways to her memories as she leaves things out, painful things she had to do to survive, how she never let herself get attached until she came to Midst, all the things she had to leave behind at a moments notice.

#thank you!!#my posts #my asks #supremely-unsupervised #lol ik you just started midst so this doesnt have full context for you but

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anoctoberpepper · 2 months ago

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@supremely-unsupervised gifted me a work on AO3 that is absolutely delightfully comforting. If you're a fan of bipolar Lark and Narkandra (I am a big fan of those. Have you noticed?) go check it out. One night, and one more time

#dungeons and daddies #dnddads #dnddads s2 #lark oak #nick close #nick foster #cassandra swift #Narkandra #bipolar lark

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2dents · 5 months ago

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We did it!!

Our server event is over so we've turned off the anon on the collection! Look at how amazing we all did!

Here's the ten writers who participated in the event!

Breakdown:

Lanalua: With 1 fic! @robotcorsair

Misswhimsy: With 2 fics! @missanniewhimsy

Theradiohost: With 1 fic! @radio-show

AnOctoberPepper: With 4 fics! @anoctoberpepper

Kibbles423: Hey that's me! With 16 fics!

GiaSoFetch: With the most at 18 fics!! @outtoshatter

Tinymushroom: With 1 fic! @paintedlight

Cephalogod: With 5 fics! @cephalog0d

PopcornKwantum: With 4 fics! @popcornkwantum

Captain_Dogfish: With 6 fics! @supremely-unsupervised

You can find the collection Here, so go forth, spread the love with kudos and comments! Let them all know how amazing they did and how wonderful their stories are!

Good work to all of our members! The Dndoods server is just a wonderful place! I love my server so much. We're always open for new and active participants so if you're looking for a place to talk dndads or discuss your new fanwork idea or maybe even just come to chat with some cool fans hit us up!

#dungeons and daddies #dndads #dndaddies #dndads fanfic #dndads fanserver #dndoods #rec list #dndads rec list #come join the fun #eyestrain

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allthebrazilianpolitics · 8 months ago

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Brazil institute sues social media giants for $525 mln over usage by minors

Brazil's Collective Defense Institute, a consumer rights group, has filed two lawsuits demanding 3 billion reais ($525.27 million) from the Brazilian units of TikTok, Kwai and Meta Platforms (META.O) for allegedly failing to create mechanisms to prevent indiscriminate use of these social media platforms by minors, according to initial petitions reviewed by Reuters.

Social media regulation has become a hot topic in Latin America's largest country after a months-long feud between X owner Elon Musk and a Brazilian Supreme Court justice resulted in the company paying hefty fines.

The lawsuits demand the companies create clear data protection mechanisms and issue warnings about the risks to children's and teenagers' mental health due to platform addiction.

The lawsuits are based on a series of studies on the possible damage caused by unsupervised use of social media, especially by children and teenagers.

#brazil #brazilian politics #politics #facebook #tiktok #kwai #image description in alt #mod nise da silveira

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koreanbibliophilegirl · 1 year ago

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Made incorrect quotes for Temporal Transcendence(WIP). Why am I so obsessed with incorrect quotes.

Wilbur: You love me, right, Tommy?

Tommy: Normally, I'd say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don't like it.

Tommy: This is such a bad idea.

Wilbur: Then why are you coming along?

Tommy: One of us needs to be able to talk the other Mages out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

Techno: Here's some advice.

Dave the Blood God: I didn't ask for any.

Techno(been a statue for a whole century now): Too bad. I'm stuck here with my thoughts and you're the only one who can hear me.

Young Tommy: You saved me. I owe you my life.

Techno: No thanks. I've seen it and I'm not very impressed.

Techno: English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though.

Wilbur: You need to stop.

Tommy: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

The Time Mages: Wasn't Supreme Time Mage Jacobs with you?

Karl: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Wilbur: HELP! I TOLD TECHNO I'D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN'T COOK!

Phil, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

Wilbur: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

Tommy: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

Wilbur: Yes!

Techno: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

Tommy: *Screams*

Sapnap: *Screams louder to establish dominance*

Wilbur: Should we do something?

Karl: No, I want to see who wins.

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.

Phil: Shit.

Techno: Wait, three?

Cop: Yeah?

Tommy: OH MY GOD WILBUR FELL OFF!!!

Quackity, a Time Mage, about Tommy: Apparently we're getting someone new in the group.

Sapnap: Are we stealing them?

Karl: New or used?

Quackity: Wonderful responses, both of you.

Techno: Bianca, I'm sad.

Bianca Nihachu: *Holds out arms for a hug* It's going to be okay.

Tommy: Bo, I'm sad.

Bo Underscore, nodding: mood.

Karl: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait.

Tommy: You and me!!!

Karl, tearing up: Okay.

Wilbur: I turned out perfectly fine!

Tommy: Wilbur, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast.

Wilbur: I DIDN'T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN'T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!

Phil: Hey, you want some leftovers?

Techno: What's that?

Phil: You've never had leftovers???

Techno(grew up poor): No, because I'm not a quitter.

Tubbo: On a scale from "damn Daniel" to "fre sha vaca do", how are you feeling?

Ranboo: In between "it's an avocado, thanks" and "how did you defeat Captain America", but as a solid answer I would say "I don't need a degree to be a clothing hanger". How about you, Tommy?

Tommy: Probably "road work ahead".

Techno: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.

(These are for the sequel if I ever get around to it)

Wilbur, pretending to be General Soot of L'Manburg: What's up guys? I'm back.

Nemesis Nihachu: What the- you can't be here. You're dead. I literally saw you die.

Wilbur, sweating: Death is a social construct.

Tommy: You have to apologize to General Soot.

Wilbur: Fine.

Wilbur: 'Unfuck you' or whatever.

General Soot: I really like this whole 'good guy, bad guy' thing you guys have going on.

Wilbur: It's not an act, it's just that I'm mean and Tommy isn't.

Wilbur: I think we're missing something.

Tommy: Teamwork?

Techno: Cohesion?

Nemesis: A general sense of what we're doing?

Tommy: Have you seen a person named 'Technoblade' around here?

Antarctic Empire Citizen: Ugh, yes. He made a horrible mess of the blood fountain.

Tommy: It looks fine to me?

Citizen: IT USED TO BE WATER!!!

General Soot: How did none of you hear what I just said?

Tommy: I've been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.

Tobias: I got distracted about halfway through.

Nemesis: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

Techno: Why is Wilbur so sad?

Tommy: He took one of those "Which L'Manburg-Era Historical Figure Are You?" quizzes.

Techno: And...?

Tommy: He got General Soot.

Tommy: Please, I'm begging you go to a doctor.

General Soot: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

General Soot, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something.

Tobias: I saw a squirrel in a tree today!

Soot, with the tone of someone who is used to Tobias: Outstanding.

Soot: This is what I’m talking about people.

Wilbur: I'm 10 times funnier and sexier than you.

General Soot: 10 times 0 is still 0 though.

Wilbur: Joke's on you, I can't do math.

Tommy: Just be yourself.

Wilbur: 'Be myself'? Tommy, I have one day to win the L'Manburg soldiers over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me?

Tommy: Couple weeks.

Phil: Six months.

Techno: Jury's still out.

Wilbur: See, Tommy?

Wilbur: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?

General Soot: I'm an idiot.

Wilbur:

Tommy:

Nemesis:

Techno:

Soot:

Wilbur: If you're waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.

Nemesis: Whose turn is it to give the pep-talk?

Tommy: *sighing* "General Soot".

Wilbur, trying(and failing) to talk like Soot: Fuck shit up out there, but don't die.

Tobias: *wiping away a tear* So inspirational.

#tommyinnit #technoblade #philza #wilbur soot #tubbo #niki nihachu #nihachu #karl jacobs #quackity #Temporal Transcendence #dream smp #dsmp #Lilly tries to meme #sapnap #(tagged saonap instead of sapnap originally KEKW)#(also the OCs are ancestors of the main gang)

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