#you're so purposeful and intentional

[willowser]

omg i think everyone has said this willow but i think ur trademark to me is bakugo. there is a bakugo that to me is so willow and i looooove him 🥺 adore him 🥺 i also think there’s such a specific way that u write when u talk abt him 🥺 a certain mood and beat that always makes me go: oh this is willow. this is willow talking abt bakugo 🥺

it is also such a willow thing to me to see lil bakugo blurbs and hcs 🥺 every version of him in every situation ever 🥺 it’s like crawling into bed, reading my favourite bedtime stories only to find new, related ones each time 🥹

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[bluastro-yellow]

if you paint "FUCK THE POLICE" on the wall Kim is dismayed but you don't lose good cop points. is that an oversight or

[juniperberries-canisroot]

I'm gonna say somethin. I think Jurgen Wind-Caller has a fragile ego.

Man looses one (1) battle and thinks the Aedra scorned him so he dedicated his Thu'um to worshipping Kyne. Insecure behaviour.

[slyandthefamilybook]

like a good half of "cringe" is just "I get embarrassed when I'm not instantly perfect at something so when I see someone else who's trying I get embarrassed on their behalf even though no one asked"

[lizzies]

[jesncin]

Does Conner ever get annoyed that people constantly refer to him as a clone when he is actually a hybrid? The public and superhero community do that all the time. Maybe the more observant but still uninformed members of the public make the leap that Superboy is a "clone" of Lex?

So my version of Conner has a public persona and a secret identity that only a select few are in on (Lex, Clark, Lena, eventually Lois, the Martians etc.). The public know him as (Don't Call Me) Superboy, but no one's jumping to the conclusion that he's a clone because he doesn't look like an exact copy or younger version of Superman. So he doesn't get called that often. I imagine some conspiracy theorists do pitch that Conner's a clone of Lex during, say, a plotline where clones get a disease and it causes people to speculate.

He wouldn't particularly care that people should be accurate in specifying what type of clone he is, he's more focused on trying to be his own person. Also as a visibly mixed kid, I don't think he'd like being called a hybrid lol.

[somecunttookmyurl]

hands down my absolute least favourite thing about *gestures to chronic everything* is that if i get physically run-down and too tired my body SUPER HELPFULLY responds to this by spontaneously generating nasal congestion, dry/sore mouth, painfully chapped lips, and general sinus pain

[comediakaidanovsky]

god i am so bored with the men's rumbles. like, with the women, whatever the finale, it feels alive and energized, and with the men it's like, here's three identical charisma-less voids who'll make the entire mid point of the rumble an ego-driven slog, and lets waste a spot on a meme while we're at it, like you have so many old timers who need breathing room so give them breathing room, bring in some high-energy nxt kids with no self preservation or whatever, just DO SOMETHING to keep the line-up energized

[unproduciblesmackdown]

omgg lol [guy who won't stop going "more like scapeGOATED" voice] now hold! on!! lmao [same guy just saw encanto voice] Hold on!!!

[psalmsofpsychosis]

yeah so i dont get the "wasn't that some fucked up shit? anyway i'm Rod Sterling" mentality some people have towards different narrative reads. It's all sweet and cool to want to explore all the different variations of a fucked up scenario, but i'm gonna need the reasons for it. I need the "why"; why are we exploring this thing? Why is it important to explore this story? what am i getting out of it? and no it's not about morality.

I dont need a story to teach me "good" life lessons, though that'd be lovely. I dont need it to be an exceptional and exemplary narrative even, but i need my discoveries to be purposeful and meaningful. Sometimes the aim for an exploration of say, a very tragic story, is to simply experiences the different flavours and nuances and complexities of a deeply held personal emotion; sometimes it helps us find the mirroring and connection and relatedness that we need to feel seen and heard and understood. Sometimes it helps you parse out your own bullshit by taking it out of your head and putting it in front of you– i dont care what the reason is, but there's a reason. There's a purpose for every single endeavour you take on, even if you haven't discovered the reason yet. "i just want to experience a fucked up shit" lazy superficial thinking, dig deeper. I hate superficial and purposeless shit; and no i'm not gonna explore the 863796373th trending trauma porn piece of the day because "wouldn't that be fucked up?" nah. I dont care, it's got no use to me. I will absolutely respect the endeavour and make space for it if someone tells me something as simple as "it is relevant to me and my interests and experiences and my mental preoccupations, and helps me refine my humanity and my understanding of humanity in general", that is a lovely and true statement. But if someone keeps churning out worst possible fucked up sad scenarios one after another under the "wouldn't that be fucked up?" flag, i'm out, i dont give a fuck. take your sad shit somewhere else, i have absolutely zero space for purposeless horrible narratives that positively add nothing to my life and dont help me navigate it in any meaningful way.

[moonymode]

actually do you ever EVEN think about the connotations of remus's japery during the boggart lesson. snape in mrs. longbottom's clothes. man with magic hiv teaching kids how to defeat the evil fear creature that lives in the literallllll closet. and he says neville would you please put this man who is trying to out my socially loaded condition with all of its various implications, in DRAG. yes thank you, for the class :)

[uinferno]

I've had this conversation with friends before but it's always a topic I can't stop myself from returning to. Death of the author, the divide between OCs and mass-media characters, and how blurry it can get.

It's just amusing to me how there's an unspoken respect and boundary for an individual's OCs. How they have full control over the characterization and how they're depicted and if someone else came along, and proclaimed the OC was their little blorbo; characterizing them in a manner that no only diverged from that defined by their creator, but running in direct contrast to it. Quite often, they'd be regarded as a bit of an asshole at large. However, codify the setting a little, define some structure of a greater narrative, and you're not too far from your OC being free game.

It's easy to see when this starts being okay when you look at the extremes. Don't pull this shit with a random character from a person's sketchbook whom they've never shown to another soul. However, comic book characters dating all the way to the 1930s are so fair game that the creators are fucking dead and your reading is likely to be far from the worst interpretation that's ever occurred to them.

Yet, what sets apart free webcomics from an artist's sporadic doodles of hijinks starring their OC? Frequency? Amount of an overarching narrative? Whether or not they decided to properly host it on a dedicated comic site? Is the intent to "Publish" as a work of fiction merely enough?

With stories and media, the consequence of receiving counter interpretations of one's own characters is expected when you choose to publish. That with the enticement of people loving your work and characters comes the inevitability of others to tear it apart. To lose custody and control of it is the price that needs to be paid. It certainly can be easier when detractors become less than faces in the crowd, but it's certainly funny regardless just how large the gap on how treatment of a piece of fiction can be between "don't fuck with another person's OC" and "Tear that bitch apart" when it comes to fanworks.

[skrunksthatwunk]

man why are there so many lesbian posts like omg i love butches/look how cool i am as a butch!!! MEN DNI. like. I've been banned from my own dykery wtf

[savemedapg]

I actually hate them /s

saving the world (2009 // 2024)

[luvcaleb]

SHH... WE CAN'T GET CAUGHT.

nsfw (18+). includes fingering, breast play, dirty talk, huge cock, unprotected sex, creampie, fwb relationship (it's pretty obvious you like each other tho), mentions of your first time experience with caleb (and other times after that), having sex when another person is just a few rooms away, too much cum, slight praise kink. filthy, filthy, filthy smut from top to bottom. likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!

“Shh... you don't want Gran hearing us, do you?”

You're covering your mouth to stifle your whimpers, but there's no hiding the wet squelches beneath the blanket. You wrap your hand around Caleb's flicking wrist, his fingers buried deep inside your cunt. When he adds another digit, a loud cry of his name is pulled out of you.

Caleb presses a soft kiss against your nape. You're both turned on your sides, your back against his solid chest. “As much as I like hearing you say my name, it'd be a problem if someone came to interrupt us. Remember the last time?”

The last time he's referring to is your risky tryst from a few days back; Caleb joined you in your bath, claiming he wants to “wash your back” for you. As expected, 20% of your time was spent in a relaxing soak where he massaged your shoulders and washed your hair, and the remaining 80% was spent with his head between your legs, coaxing out wave after wave of cum with his fingers and tongue.

The tip of his cock was already inside you when a knock on your door interrupted you, your grandmother asking if you knew where Caleb went because he wasn't in his room. Needless to say, you had to stop what you were doing and Caleb had a difficult time sneaking out of the bathroom.

“That... mmph... and this... is all your fault...” you struggle to say while biting back your moans as he grinds his fingers against a good spot, his thumb flicking at your clit. Caleb has always been too good with his hands. “You always—ah!—do this even when there are other people around...!”

“You wanna know why?” Chuckling, Caleb leans closer to whisper to your ear, lips brushing over your soft skin. “You squeeze me so fucking tight when we're about to get caught.”

You gush around his fingers as he mouths on the shell of your ear, moaning into the palm of your hand. He hums in satisfaction, pulling out his hand from your panties to admire the stringy release between his fingers. “You always cum too fast, pipsqueak. You pent up these days?”

How on earth could you possibly be pent up when you've been fucking Caleb at every opportunity? Every time you're left alone at the house, he fucks you against any flat surface he can find—the door when he's too impatient to go to your room, the bathroom sink because he likes making you watch yourself in the mirror when he's fucking you stupid, and even ate you out on the kitchen countertop at some point.

But the thing is, Caleb is undaunted by the possibility of being caught. So even when your Gran is around, he sneaks into your bedroom to fool around, just like what he's doing now under the pretense of “we watched a horror movie today, aren't you scared to sleep alone?”

Evidently, Caleb has no intention of letting you sleep tonight. He fondles your tits beneath your shirt, the tent in his sweatpants grinding against your clothed ass. “Don't pretend like you're innocent,” he mutters, making you yelp when he pinches your nipple. “You strutted around all day wearing my shirt without a bra, bending down in front of me on purpose... Did you know how hard it was to hold back from fucking you on the spot?”

“T-that was...!” Your cheeks flush with warmth. Sure, you were kind of riling him up on purpose, but that was under the assumption you'd be alone tonight.

“This ass...” he rubs you above your shorts, groaning as he palms at the soft flesh. “...was in my mind the entire fucking day. I held myself back until now, but I can't hold back anymore, fuck.”

He strips you off of your clothes, only leaving his shirt scrunched up above your breasts. He pulls down his sweatpants, and you feel his huge cock slap against your lower back, his pre-cum smearing across your skin. He holds the back of your knee to raise your leg, positioning his cock to your soaked pussy.

“Been waiting for this for so fucking long... Oh, shiiit,” he moans, long and drawn out and dirty as he slides right home, the tip of his dick pounding at your cervix. You squeal into your hand, your cunt clamping down on his cock so tightly but it doesn't deter his fast pace at all.

He reaches so deep like this, hitting spots he normally couldn't when you're in missionary. His huge cock feels like it's carving its own space into your body, coring you out from the inside, and it feels so good that you can't hold back your voice at all.

“Nn... Don't do that,” Caleb pulls away your hand from your mouth when he notices you biting down on your skin to hide your moans. He replaces it by putting his fingers in your mouth, cooing softly to your ear, “Suck. You're going to hurt yourself.”

You suck on his fingers, eyes rolling back to your head as he continues to pound you, fucking your pussy so good. Only Caleb knows how to make you feel so much pleasure to the point you can't think properly anymore. Your fingers could never hope to reach the places his cock touches.

It's how this twisted relationship started in the first place, Caleb catching you touching yourself when you forgot to lock your door. He taught you how to make yourself cum because you didn't know anything, until all you knew was him and his cock. But he was too big the first time you took him in that he had to fuck you loose with four fingers, sucking and licking at your pussy to make you wet enough to accept his thick girth and length. Now, he could slide inside you easily, your body having taken his shape.

Caleb stares at your messy face, utterly endeared. “Fuck, you're so fucking cute...” He takes out his fingers from your mouth, using them to tilt your jaw to meet his lips. He kisses you sloppy, no finesse as you slide your tongue against his, moaning into each other's mouths.  “Mm... open your mouth more... yeah, that's it, baby... good fucking girl...”

“Ah, fuck, Caleb!” you sob, desperately rocking against his cock. “I'm gonna cum, cumming, I can't anymore...!”

“You're gonna cum?” Caleb stops thrusting, making you whine and attempt to move yourself, but he holds onto your hips and pushes you into the mattress, laying you flat on the sheets on your front. He settles behind you, using his weight to pound you to the mattress harder. “Then fucking cum.”

You moan uncontrollably into the pillows, completely forgetting you're meant to stay quiet. Caleb fucks his cock harder, faster, deeper, failing to hold back his own grunts as you tighten up around him, wet heat melting around his dick. “Shit, I'm gonna cum too... I'm gonna cum hard in your slutty fucking pussy... fuck, I'm cumming!”

You squirt around his cock as he fills you up with cum, your fluids making a mess between your bodies and the sheets. You don't realize you're crying out up until Caleb grabs your chin and kisses you once more, muffling the lewd moans you're letting out while he's still cumming inside you, hot and thick. He gives you tiny, slowing thrusts, cock still spurting out semen. “Oh, baby, you did so good...” he sucks on your bottom lip, staring intently at your orgasm face. “Such a good fucking girl for me...”

“So... full...” is the only thing you can say, feeling the sheer volume of one load of his cum in your pussy, warming you from the inside.

“Not full enough, baby.” Caleb peppers your face with kisses. It is then that you realize—with no small amount of fear and arousal—his cock hasn't softened at all. “I still have a lot to give you.”