#500 word

[pinimi]

Armand orchestrated Madeleine’s death because she so easily outcunted him. Absolutely no effort just laughed him in the face at his questions “yeah I can live and be mentally stable for eternity. what, like it’s hard?” she said skill issue if you can’t handle killing as a vampire. Every night Armand has seven different existential crisis and Madeleine sleeps soundly without a shred of guilt WHILE ALSO looking dead drop gorgeous and being funnier than everyone around her. Armand had to take her out early. He never stood a chance

[magnus-rhymes-with-swagness]

some of y'all really started an entire campaign against shahed and shaima and muhammad to falsely claim they're scammers huh. really just came up with a bunch of baseless racist claims and presented them as fact, getting someone to rescind an entire $500 donation from shaima and muhammad's gfm. do you think they want to be here on tumblr, begging strangers for money to escape a genocide? do you think people like hussein and nairuz put in so much effort to vet them just for fun? or that my friends and i enjoy losing sleep every night trying to get people to donate? if after all this time, after over 300 days of ongoing genocide, you still insist on baselessly accusing palestinians of being scammers with 0 proof, you are just plain racist idk what to tell you! i'm not kidding when i say this racist fucking behavior is quite literally endangering human lives. go donate to them right now i'm no longer asking.

[freitag1607]

1.05 / Battle of the Labyrinth

[motleyfam]

Dick forgets to eat sometimes.

Jason can’t fathom it—the entire concept is foreign to him. For as long as he can remember, food’s always been on his mind. If he wasn’t digging through dumpsters for it, he was squirreling away whole pieces of fruit and unopened granola bars the kids at school carelessly left on their trays, picking up gigs babysitting the neighbor brats for the complimentary PB&Js, sitting through two-hour fire & brimstone church sermons daydreaming about the fried chicken and potato salad that would come after. Jason’s gone hungry more times than he can count but never once has he simply forgotten to eat.

Bruce says it’s something with the way Dick’s brain is wired. It’s why he can’t sit still very long without his leg jittering, why he talks a mile a minute when he gets going on a topic, why his apartment always looks like a tornado went through it.

All Jason knows is that it’s five p.m. and he’s starving.

Except he isn’t—not really. He had a bowl of Cap’n Crunch in Dick’s kitchen just that morning, milk and all. Jason’s gone far longer on far less, so he doesn’t know why his stomach's complaining so much today, why his head feels achy and light, why that tiny biting pain in his middle won’t shut up. He’s been living at the Manor for four months now and he’s already gone soft.

They’re walking through Bludhaven Shopping Centre, Dick babbling on about the last obstacle of the indoor minigolf course they just finished. Jason tries to listen, but his heart is beating strangely fast and the only thought pulsing through his mind is food, food, food—

And then abruptly, he notices that Dick’s stopped walking. He’s looking at Jason, brow furrowed and lips moving as if asking a question, but Jason isn’t hearing anything because his hands are shaking and his breaths are coming out quick and gaspy and even though he’d been looking forward to hanging out with Dick for weeks now he suddenly wants nothing more than to be back in the Manor where the pantry’s always stocked and the fridge is full and he can breathe.

And then he blinks and he’s sitting at a sticky food court table, and Dick’s got a hand on his back, saying “in and out, nice and slow, that’s it” and Jason’s got tears welling up in his eyes which pisses him off because that’s stupid, he’s being stupid, only cats and babies cry because they missed lunch, and—

And then there’s a soft pretzel in a paper wrapper being nudged into his hand by a guilty-faced Dick with a murmur of “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking” and it makes Jason want to crawl into a hole and die because he can’t just be fucking normal about this.

But there’s honey mustard sauce to dip it in, and a Chipotle bowl soon after, and tomorrow he and Dick both eat all three meals.

[nickfowlerrr]

https://www.tumblr.com/nickfowlerrr/760258643802406912 BEEFY BUCKY PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE *gasping breath in* PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

change of pace

pairing: beefy!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. unprotected sex. a little bit of fluff. not edited!

words: 1.1k

notes: ask and ye shall receive 😌 lol when i reblogged that post you know he was all i was thinking about 🥴 lol thank you for sending this, e! 🫶🏻

thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and so appreciated. hope you enjoy this little drabble! 🩵

“Oh, fuck,” he whines, his eyes squeezed shut while he’s breathing heavy, his hands clenching the back of the couch threatening to break the wooden frame of it. Bucky’s head is thrown back in pleasure as you slowly sink down on his throbbing cock.

He can’t see the way your lips part at the stretch of him, or how you stifle your own moan as you take him in, or the twinkle in your eyes at the sight of him already flushed and lost in the feeling of you straddling his lap, your hands on his chest as you sit on his cock.

His fingers flex as he grips the couch, doing his best to control himself and let you set the pace. Your hands glide up his chest to around his neck as you lift yourself off his lap, until just his tip is inside you, your fingers in his hair as he gulps a breath. You stay for a moment and wait until you see him relax for just a second before you sit back down, his thickness impaling you in the best way.

He whimpers the most beautiful moans you think you’ve ever heard as his eyes scrunch tighter, his lips in a pout as you slowly start to really ride his cock.

“Baby, please,” he begs softly, cheeks pink as he turns his face away from you. His eyes are still closed tight, he’s both too shy and too worked up to look at you right now.

“What’s the matter?” you ask breathily, your torturous movements not faltering as you lean closer to him, your breasts pressing against his chest and your fingers curling in his hair as your soft lips ghost his ear before you lightly kiss his face, another pathetic moan slipping from the beefy man beneath you at the gentle kiss.

His bright blue eyes flutter open then as he turns his face toward you, pout still in place, his eyes much darker than they were a few minutes ago, but that gleam in them ever present.

You titter as your noses brush and you know exactly what he wants before he even says it.

You’re sinking lower on his dick as he finally speaks.

“Kiss me,” he pleads, not even trying to hide how desperately he wants to feel your lips on his. You don’t keep him waiting too long before you give in to his request. Your kiss is soft at first as you keep rolling your hips, the feeling of his tongue slipping into your mouth and his moans against your lips fueling your movements.

Slowly, Bucky lets his arms fall from their place along the back of the couch before he drags his hands up your thick thighs. You don’t stop him so he keeps going.

His heavy palms finding your ass, squeezing the ample flesh there as he follows your movements up and down his fat cock.

His touch dances up to your back and then his hands find their place settling on the curve of your waist meeting your hips. All the while, Bucky kisses you greedily while you let him, your own moans muffled by his mouth.

He squeezes your waist lightly and you don’t know what snaps or takes over you but suddenly you’re spurred on in your movements. It’s not slow rolls if your hips anymore, no. Now you’re bouncing up and down his thick cock as he chokes out a moan in surprise. His big hands are gripping you tight but he doesn’t dare deter you or want you to slow down. He just needs to feel you, needs to touch you and your soft fucking body that he won’t ever get enough of. The way you take him, the way you make him feel, it’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before. You’re indescribable. You’re incomparable. You’re fucking everything.

He doesn’t know how or why he’s suddenly so overcome with emotion but he feels his eyes sting as he watches you, mesmerized by you on top of him, your breasts bouncing with every raise of your hips, your mouth open as you breathe heavily, soft moans of pleasure spilling out of you.

It feels so good. Everything feels so good, he can’t stop himself. He cries meekly, the most pathetic noise leaving him as his balls squeeze tighter and tighter with your every bounce. His hands tight on your hips and he whimpers again, “Baby, fuck, ohhh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grits, puffing as he tries to hold himself back. You speed up your movements, feeling your walls squeeze even tighter around his thick length as you get closer too.

Bucky slips his hands from your waist to your heavy breasts, grabbing them and squeezing them in his big hands before he lets his lips and tongue slide all over them, kissing them, licking them, before he wraps his lips around one of your pert nipples, sucking and licking the sensitive bud as you whine and moan in the intense pleasure it sends through you. He’s moaning as he takes his pleasure in kind, showing the same dedication to your other breast as you move atop him.

He’s so close. So fucking close. He buries his face in your chest as he holds you close, whimpers and pleas spilling from him as you fuck him perfectly.

“Please let me cum, baby, please,” he grips your hips again. Eyes squeezed shut, he’s almost pained from how badly he wants to just let go. To fill you up and keep you leaking him for the rest of the day. His balls twitch at the thought and he cries out again.

You reach a hand down behind you and gently squeeze him and he almost doesn’t even hear your permission to cum inside you as he shoots his load despite himself the very second he felt your touch. Groans and debauched whimpers leaving him as he holds you down on his lap, finally letting himself move as he bucks up into you.

You have to hold onto him as he fucks into you. Your own moans and whimpers mingling with his as he brings you to your own orgasm without even really trying, your silky walls tightening around his cock and milking him as he rides out your shared high.

His head is on your chest as he keeps you in place on his thick lap, heavy breaths and sighs leaving you both as you hold his head to you, your fingers playing in his hair.

“I love you,” he breathes against you, his eyes closed in bliss as you pet him. You smile down at him, and he doesn’t see it, but he feels it when you place a kiss on head and hold him closer. His arms tighten around you before he carefully turns you both so you’re laying down on the couch now, him on top of you, head still on your chest as you murmur back with that same soft smile,

“I love you, too.”

[qifreyplushie]

to wuming, hua cheng, san lang;

happy birthday, dearest a-hong. 🦋💘

DESSERT LATER !!!!!!!! 🧹🧹🧹🧹🧹🧹🧹(WHACK WHACK WHACK)

[mmelolabelle]

Armand is someone who has been has been trained (in brothels, by Marius, and by 500+ years worth of life experience) to adapt himself to what the people around him want. Throughout seasons 1-2, different people get very different versions of Armand, depending on who they are and who’s retelling the story at the time.

It’s the primary way Armand protects himself, whether he’s a teenage sex slave or the oldest, strongest person in the room. It’s how he controls people. Fundamentally, it’s the only way Armand knows to make people love him (an approximation of love at least). Worse, it’s the only way Armand knows how to love — by twisting and contorting himself into whatever form he thinks his current obsession wants or needs him to be. He even does it to his victims for crying out loud.

And then here’s Daniel, who is constantly seeking authenticity and truth. Who’s bullshit detector is never “off”. Who cannot tolerate any kind of masquerade, manipulation or lie – no matter how kind or well intentioned. Not out of any moral or ethical objection, but because Daniel simply cannot leave things well enough alone once something attracts his attention. He has to know. He has to see where it goes and how it ends.

“It’s my job, I’m built this way”

“It’s in your nature, Mr Molloy. Couldn’t get out the door without lobbing one more bomb.”

Daniel knew something was off about “Rashid” from the beginning, so he began to pick the situation in Dubai apart until Armand revealed himself. And then he kept going until he completely destroyed the narrative Armand had spent 77 years constructing.

Daniel deliberately and systematically pulled “Armand, Amadeo, Arun” apart and laid him bare with nothing but but a laptop, some free time, a near-suicidal disregard for his own personal safety and a mouth that just wouldn’t quit.

There’s power in being seen, in being known, ugly parts and all. What would it feel like, to be completely exposed like that for the first time in centuries?

So yeah it makes sense to me that Armand, who puts on all these acts and artifices to draw people in, but which only serve to ensure they’re kept at a distance, would turn his big sad orange eyes on the person who blew them all to smithereens and be all “…I wanna do this forever, actually.”

[bardicbird]

a little siffrin comic about touch, violence, and oranges

[n7punk]

i don't go here but from everything i've seen izutsumi dungen meshi is like a catgirl but instead of the starting point being "anime woman" it's "Lisa Patrikeyevna illustration" and they worked their way backwards from there

(the Golden Sickle art by Natalia Trepenok)

[destinationtoast]

Question: Several years ago, you outlined the most common fic wordcounts for AO3. Given that the data was from 2014, will you do an update to see if fics have gotten, on average, longer/shorter over time? (P.S. Thank you for creating these! I've followed your blog for a number of years, and your analyses help put fandoms and fandom trends in perspective.)

Good question (and thank you :) )! I just took a look, and I was interested to find that AO3 fanworks have, on average, gotten longer over the past 10 years.

Here's the data from 2014:

And here's updated data from 2024:

(Edited to fix an incorrect max word count)

These graphs, along with the data and any clarifications and corrections are also available on AO3.

[sachi]

☆ Hatsune Miku // VOCALOID "Yumekawa Princess" ☆ TENITOL / FuRyu ☆ May 2024 ¥6,160 ☆ Sculpt Tokunaga Fumiyoshi Paint Take Illustration Uehara Eku

[zu-is-here]

<– • –>

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | may 25 fireplace | words: 429

this one was inspired by the beautiful work by @alexsays-no enjoy;3

tw: anxiety, nightmares

They were sitting on a carpet, Regulus, with a book perched on James’ head that lay on his lap. There was a pleasant silence around, broken only by the calm sound of creaking wood coming from the fireplace.

Even though it would seem like a peaceful evening to anyone who looked at them, inside Regulus’ mind there was a storm. He felt like something was off, like he did something wrong, and James just pretended that everything was okay.

After some time, Regulus’ thinking became louder than the words he was trying to read. The more he thought about the atmosphere between him and James, the more he noticed his boyfriend's strange behavior. They were spending time together, of course, but James wouldn’t touch him like he used to, like he loved him. He would fall silent more often, though. Regulus thought they hadn’t talked properly for at least two weeks.

Another hour had passed before the younger boy had the courage to ask his question.

“James,” he said softly to get the other’s attention, “is everything alright?”

There was a long pause before the answer came.

“Yeah, ‘m okay. I just—“

“You just...” the Slytherin prompted.

James swallowed loudly, took a deep breath, and, oh so quietly, said, “I wish you were a girl.”

Regulus stood up, feeling his heart break instantly. Tears gathered in his gray eyes, his lower lip trembling, before a loud sob escaped him. He felt like a piece of shit—almost two years together, and suddenly James has a problem? Or maybe he has had a problem since the beginning? After all, he was the one who wanted to keep their relationship a secret.

The revelation made him overthink every single moment in those past two years—did James actually mean it when he said he loved him? Why was he even Regulus’ boyfriend for so long if he wished for the younger boy to have cunt and boobs instead of a dick and flat chest?

Regulus can’t recall what happened next, only James grabbing him by the shoulder and repeating his name over and over.

“REG!” came a distressed voice, and he finally could feel a strong arm shaking him. He opened his eyes with great effort, suddenly feeling not only his lip trembling but his whole body. “That dream again?” James asked, gently whipping away his tears. When Regulus nodded with another pathetic sob, his boyfriend pulled him closer to his chest, holding him tightly by his head and back, caressing them to calm him down. “I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

[astrangerlately]

[itshype]

As a fandom Vet please, please back up your fanfiction. I see so many fics posted exclusively to tumblr and it scares me.

I've seen so many tumblr purges, I've seen staff delete blogs irreparably by accident, I've seen cyberbullying involving reporting a blog so many times it's taken down and all the posts are lost.

All these new baby fandom accounts who are writing tens of thousands of words of fic (in a readmore so not even reblogs work to save it if your blog is lost) and not backing it up are causing me anxiety. Please, I'm so worried for you all.

[adhd-languages]

When someone speaks a foreign language in public and I’m desperately trying not to stare like I’m sorry I’m not racist I just desperately want to hear the different vowel sounds you’re making. sorry.