#the reluctants

[catgirltoes]

I don't think I've seen anyone talk about how transfems are pretty much entirely barred from working in childcare.

[squid-nerds]

grandfest!!!!

[thestuffedalligator]

When I was a very tiny child my mom was in a local production of The Reluctant Resurrection of Sherlock Holmes, a play where Arthur Conan Doyle is hired to investigate a murder at a haunted house with Sherlock Holmes, a figment of Doyle’s imagination that only he can see and hear. Doyle very sincerely believes that the house is haunted, and Holmes thinks that Doyle is a moron

I was too young to appreciate this concept when I was a child, now that I’m older it’s the best concept for a play I’ve ever heard in my life.

[puppyeared]

abogagos……..

[sticker-star-sketchbook]

watched the new ultraman movie a couple of days ago

it's very good and so beautiful! go watch it if you have the chance! :)

[keikoayano]

Athena 🧍🧍🧍

Hera 🕺🪩🕺🪩

Athena 🧍…..🕺

[yeyinde]

extremely dubious consent. power/class imbalance. implied breeding. manipulation.

but regency era John Price paying off your chaperone to get you alone in a carriage for few hours and the whole time, your guardians think you're being properly supervised during this unorthodox courtship.

And sure, he's so much older than you, a widower with specks of grey along his temples and peppered in his beard, and more established in class and life compared to you, the poor thing that only just entered society and already got snatched up by the surly, gruff Duke. But it's John Price. Despite his temperament, he's such a respectable man, isn't he? They can trust him to protect you, of course.

And he does.

Your virtue, however? Not so much.

He does away with that little problem on the second outing he takes you on, smothering the protests that draw up, shaky and uncertain on your lips when the chaperone your guardians paid to watch over you walks away, swallowing it down with a searing kiss. Shushes you through it as he slips his thick fingers over the seam of you, arm buried beneath a dense layer of fabric, snuffing out those little gasps.

Don't worry about it, he rasps into the burning apple of your cheek. "s'how it's supposed to be, mm?" and when that doesn't quell the quiver in your brow, he adds:

"s'what I want, love. Jus' a little taste, mm?"

And the problem with gently reared girls is that they turn into such obliging women. Your eyes flicker downward—soft in your acquiescence even though your shoulders draw up cutely towards your ears. Pretty little thing. He couldn't possibly resist.

So he doesn't.

Taking such a lovely creature on the dirty floor of the carriage with your prim, proper skirts trussed up over your hips, shift in utter disarray from the scorching attention he lavished your breasts earlier is nothing short of euphoric. Aided by the adorable little whines you make when he finally notches his cock against your soft flesh. Worry flashing over your brow because he's just too big, too thick, for you to take, and maybe we shouldn't, Mr Price—

But you swallow him just as sweetly as he imagined you would when he pushes inside of you. Pussy fluttering around him in a panic at the blunt, thick intrusion, unused to such brutal treatment. And it's heaven, of course. Nirvana between the split of your pretty thighs. Pussy just made to take his cock. Loving it so tenderly like this

"Taking me so well, aren't you?"

Tears on your lashline. Nose scrunched up. He's sure it's a trial for you, but this is just a prelude. Ripping the bandaid off.

A necessary evil.

And if the altruistic facade falters under the blunt weight of his desire, his greed, then at least he has a failsafe to keep you in his pocket should your guardians decide he—in his age, his callousness—is not a good fit for their daughter. They are the doting type, after all. Romantics. Idealists.

It doesn't take him much at all to reach the apex of his pleasure, not when your hands press tight to chest as he bears his weight down, grinding his throbbing cock into the deepest part of you. Your moans, delicious little keens ringing so sweetly in his ears. Letting him ride you hard against the dirty floor, chasing his pleasure even as your knees dig into his sides, brows pinced but nodding along when he rasps in your ear about how good you feel and how it'll only get better, and next time—since you're bein' so bloody sweet f'im—he'll show you how to suck his cock between those damnably soft lips, keep his fingers buried inside of you while you fold yourself over the bench on your knees, mouth swallowing him down deep—

(If they can't come to reason and see why he's a good match, then the swell of your belly in a few months time will surely sway them��)

The thought breaks across his spine, molten heat puddling in his loins. Fuck—

Despite the viciousness of thrusts at the idea, you take his desire so goddamn well.

It sends him over the edge with a grunt. A belly deep groan. And just in time, too.

After he puts your clothes in order and slides you back into the seat, groaning when you squeeze your thighs tight together, keeping his cum from spilling out, your chaperone arrives with a nervous smile and a glint of guilt that's easily diminished with another slip of cash between palms. You stare, dazed and flushed, out the window, and barely even flinch when he lays his hand on your thigh, hold possessive. Proprietary.

"Time to go home, mm?"

And if he brings you back to your guardians flustered, limping, and a little dazed—well. The roads were just terrible, weren't they, sweetheart? Quite the rough ride, mm? He's sure next time will be better.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Burntrap thought him and Vanny were FNAF homies

[just-some-user-hunny]

Nikto is chopping wood when it hits you. You're watching from your back porch door, a porcelain mug of hot chocolate cradled in your warm palms.

It's cold- far too cold for Nikto to be chopping wood in your garden right now. A thick layer of frost blanketing everything in sight- in which he had scraped your car for you earlier this morning whilst you were still in bed. He's still in his sleeping clothes; his thin black shirt that stuck to his body in a thick sleeve or fabric, and those baggy grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He's still refused to let you stitch the hemming- which is frayed and worn. Insisting that it is no use fixing it. There's no fixing it, llubov. I'll let it fray and throw it later. No use.

It was certainly a sight. He had drunk his tea down quickly once he noticed your shivering shoulders. Wrapped you up in that fluffy cream nightgown of yours, and set out to fill the fireplace. A silent promise to keep you warm. To provide. He had shot you a stern look at the sight of you lingering in the doorway- your pyjamas shorts and lack of slippers irking him. You wanted to roll your eyes at him. Used to his picking. You are a little warm soft thing. You need to stay warm.

"you're acting like a husband". You quip softly. Playfully, that smile that could warm butter on your pretty lips. "Do you want to be my husband, Andre?".

"yes".

Nikto's sincere raspy voice is sincere as he answers immediately- stunning you into silence. Glancing up at you to fix you an intense stare as he split the log with his hands. Something soft and eager in his eyes. Apprehensive on his own behalf, but filled with longing.

"you'll always be warm". He vows. Eyes filled with something- devotion. So tremendous, that it rattles you to the bone. His eyes meet yours, and you're not sure you can look away. Can't find your hands to sever the line. Pinning you down. He makes the first move- leaving the axe by the tree stump, shoes crunching in the glittering frosted grass. Approaching you like a weary hound.

"then in that case, may I mend these then?". You mumble. Now shy, your heart quivering at the intensity in his face. His hand meets yours as it brushes over the frayed hem of his sweatpants- a warm, halting hold. An unsure pause, you think... Before his shoulders relax a little, and his fingers wiggle softly between yours to melt into an embrace of hands. A gesture so sweet, so unsure and new to him, it was his turn to fluster. Feline eyes wandering from your eyes to your fingers clasped with his.

"yes. I... Let's try".

[redsray]

one of the reasons i love Jason and Tim's relationship so much is because pre new-52, they despised each other and most of Jason's attempts (all 3) to kill Tim hide out in that continuity; but Jason also tries to vaguely recruit Tim a few times during that same continuity so it's sort of, like:

Jason: join my emo band Tim: no ???? tf?? Jason: Jason: well fuck you then [shoots him]

but after the new-52 (but before Rebirth), they're much closer and work together a lot more; you could even perhaps call them friends. there's a sort of mutual respect even after the murder attempts- the change is kind of odd, but I do love this version too. it's kinda:

Jason: ok you're a worthy successor i guess Tim: thank.... you...?? Tim: ... i picked the name "red robin" out of respect for you? Jason: huh. Jason: you're a weird ass kid. but you're smart so there's that.

obviously you can prefer one version of their relationship to the other, but i always love mixing them together. that kind of "yeah i can beat the shit out of you but you're also my homie and if anyone else tried to i'd beat them up" vibe, you know? i'd say peak siblings, actually.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

It was easy to lure the newest Titan away from the rest, back the boy into a corner. He was the weakest link, the newest hero, the easiest to manipulate-

Then, the ghost child transformed, glowing rings passing over his body to reveal a familiar black-haired boy. "Uncle Slade, what the fuck are you doing?"

[dragonflavoredcake]

Xisuma: Hey, welcome back to the server! Where are you coming from? Scar: Phasmophobia! Xisuma: Nice! How'd it go this time? Impulse: Scar died like a million times. Scar: Hey! Xisuma: Sounds like a normal day for Scar. Anything to declare? Impulse and Scar: Nope! Xisuma: Then what's in that double chest you're failing to hide? Impulse: Scar: Skizz, inside the chest: Are we in yet?

[nenoname]

"And now I know why! He hates me!"

[qiuing]

Everyone else: gritty courtroom drama

Edgeworth: romance, harem, slow burn 50k, enemies/rivals-to-lovers, love quadrangle (?)

[rhys-writes-some-shit]

Cuddles

Alastor x Reader (QP)

You were always respectful of the fact that Alastor didn't like physical touch that he didn't initiate. You never asked why, never tried to force him otherwise, never even considered trying to touch him without his consent. This remained true for all the years you'd known him.

But sometimes it got really fucking difficult.

After a long day of work, then chores, then helping with the hotel, you were absolutely exhausted. And you still had dinner to look forward to. As much as you loved Al, his need for dinner formality really got on your nerves sometimes. At least the food was good.

Luckily, there was a little time where you could escape to your room. Closing the door behind you, you kicked off your shoes and dramatically collapsed onto the bed. As soon as your body hit the mattress, you wanted to stay there for the rest of eternity.

But that wasn't an option.

Groaning, you decided it wouldn't hurt to close your eyes for a moment. Besides, Alastor would want you to be lucid for dinner. Closing your eyes for a second would help.

"Ah, there you are." Distantly, you heard Alastor poke his head in the room. "I would like your input on supper, if you don't mind."

Unable to muster words, you made some unintelligible noises into the bed, curling up more with the blankets. Alastor's footsteps were muffled by the carpet, so you didn't know he was standing right next to you until he spoke.

"Seriously, darling, it is much too early to be sleeping. Don't be so dramatic."

A hand fell on your shoulder, probably to try and take the blankets off you. However, in your half-awake stupor, you shifted to grab the hand, pulling it towards you in an effort to pull some comfort out of it.

Your brain didn't compute what you'd just done for a full 30 seconds, until, suddenly, it hit you. Despite your exhaustion, you immediately let go of Alastor's hand and jerked to a sitting position.

"Al, I'm so, so sorry," you said, your voice sounding more tired than anything else. You ignored the way your eyes kept trying to close, Alastor's figure being nothing more than a red blur in front of you. "I didn't mean to. Give me a minute, I'll be down to help."

Alastor hummed, the contemplative hum you've learned to differentiate over time. Vaguely, you were aware that Alastor's smile softened a bit.

"I can spare ten minutes," Alastor finally said. "Move over, if you please."

You stared at him, blinking tiredly, struggling to understand what was happening.

Expectantly, Alastor motioned to the bed. "Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds."

Then it kicked in. Hastily, you moved over to the other side of them bed, giving enough room for Alastor to sit down with his back against the headboard.

Blankets curled around your shoulders, you sat there, hesitating.

"You may." Alastor answered the unspoken question. "For eight minutes and fifty-two seconds."

It was impossible to deny the smile that grew on your face as you crawled into Alastor's lap, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes. Gently, Alastor wrapped his arms around you, holding you.

Wrapped in blankets, leaning into Alastor's solid body, the darkness behind your eyelids enveloped you. It felt like you were floating, just your and Alastor, and nothing could ever harm you ever again. As long as you kept your breathing steady, everything would be okay.

Everything would be okay.

You were right; just closing your eyes for a few minutes helped immensely. It was even better that it was spent with one of your favorite people in all of Hell. And if Alastor "accidentally" forgot to keep track of the time, extending your cuddle for an extra two minutes, you weren't going to say anything.

[threading-fate]

"i claim no relation to that child."

i love this fic sm <33 shen yuan of no relation by @grubus you have my entire heart. uhm, i would've polished this up a bit more, but i am very tired and merely human ahsdhjasdj i just wanted to try and give this fic a bit of a bookcover vibe??? yeah. that's about it. you should read it!!! its very good!!! twitter ver!