#it's turning out longer than i expected

[blackjackkent]

Slowly discovering the freeing power of the words "I know this is bad but I'll fix it in editing."

[justsomewritingblog]

Almost done with this oneshot!

So sorry it's taking so long!

Here's a sneak peak:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lucius, Narcissa,” my father greeted, shaking their hands.  “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“And you,” Mrs. Malfoy replied, smiling.

“Have you…” Mr. Malfoy’s gaze shifted to me briefly, “informed her of the situation?”

“Not yet,” my mother said.

My eyebrows furrowed.  I opened my mouth to question them, but Mrs. Malfoy walked towards me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.

“I imagine you want to see Draco, dear.”  She smiled down at me as she began to lead me towards their grand staircase.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[jaerockyaoi]

hey, dj! play that music louder!

textless versions ^_^

[shotmrmiller]

in which johnny gifts the love of his life a sex toy outta nowhere

when you mumble into the phone that you miss him, johnny, he pauses for a second, then tells you he's going to bring you a gift back home. "to keep ye company, hen." after, he locks himself in a bathroom stall and watches you play with yourself until you both come.

but you'd thought he'd bring you a pet. a live animal that needs a cage to be brought across the world, not a long, slim unmarked box.

it's a sex toy. and it's rather large, at that. your hand wraps around the base, fingertips still a good inch apart.

"and i'm supposed to be using that?" his arms wrap around your waist, his thick stubble grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, raising goose flesh.

"don't like it? only had ye in mind, hen." he presses a wet kiss on your fluttering pulse. you've never really talked about toys in your relationship. you don't need them, of course, and johnny more than makes up for the time lost between you two whenever he's home but this?

"i don't know," you mumble. "a bullet would've made more sense, i think. at most a rose." his hands run up your sides, to the swell of your breasts and give you a gentle squeeze. he doesn't believe the tripe of people valuing size over all else, does he? the thing is easily as thick as your forearm and it's corded with veins. and it's uncut. whoever is making these are going to extreme lengths to make it as realistic as possible.

he bucks his hips, prominent bulge in his jeans coming to rest in the small of your back. of course he'd get excited. menace.

"ye willnae have t'use it alone now tha' i'm here. 'sides, i think ye'd look perfect with my pretty kitty stretched thin around it." johnny grabs your hips firmly, creating small divots as his grip tightens. "maybe i'll watch ye fuck yerself on it, hm? lap at yer clit while ye do." liquid heat pools in your belly, pulsing hot between your legs.

he really wants you to use it, given by his ragged breathing and he rutting himself against you. fine. "okay. just, not right now, yeah? i want only you in me." his eyes burn fluorescent as he nods, his large hand cradling your head as he pulls you in for a kiss.

you missed this. the sweet sting of his cock sliding home in your aching cunt, the sharp pinch below your navel when his tip comes to sit snugly against the plug of your womb. you've missed this. missed him.

maybe he'll forget all about that monstrosity sitting in the box.

-

he doesn't. he's bringing it up hours later, his spend still dripping warm on your thighs. johnny cannot be serious.

"course i am, hen." his fingers sweep at the hair stuck to your sweat-slick forehead. "is it a crime to want to see ye split open on some- something else?"

you think nothing of his stutter. "alright," you groan. if that's what he wants. it'll be interesting to see just how much you can take. you'll never tell him that your pussy clenched around nothing at the thought, his cum trickling out faster, pooling on the sheets.

-

it's not warm. the tip of it presses against your swollen entrance, cold in contrast to your heated flesh. johnny watches you swallow a gasp, your trembling hands reaching for his as you slide down an inch, two, three. johnny's cum is wonderful lube, but the searing burn- the size of toy is overwhelming, your walls being wrenched apart as you glide down further. johnny presses a prickly kiss on your cheek, cooing in your ear all the while his clever fingers draw gentle circles on your clit. "focus on breathin', bonnie. yer tensin' up."

desire begins to bubble beneath your skin, pleasure causing your muscles to warm and slacken, and after a long couple of minutes, you find yourself at the base.

but then johnny grabs your hips from behind and pulls- oh. "that's it." if you'd thought the toy had originally been in your stomach, it's now in your throat. "pretty as a peach, hen. jus' wha' i wanted to see." a shiver dances up your spine, notches trembling as you get used to the unforgiving stretch of the toy. his breath warms the side of your neck. "on yer go."

you come around it no less than three times, leaving it milky and johnny cleans it up with his mouth before he cleans you up.

-

the girth of it is something you'll never get used to but it does get easier. when johnny goes back to work, he tells you that all he asks for are videos of you using it. for his collection, he greedily says.

you send him as many as you can, no matter the hours. just a quick nsfw text before getting his thumbs up and away it goes. it's incredibly fun. the relationship hadn't been dull by any means, but this just feels invigorating. you feel rejuvenated. that johnny is your biggest cheerleader while using it is such a bonus.

you oughta marry him. maybe you'll elope the next time he's home. but when the next time comes, johnny calls you instead of messaging you the usual be home soon text.

and it sends you reeling.

bonnie. the toy treat ye well while i was gone?

no better than you could me, but yeah. i'm still sore from using it in the last video i sent you.

that's great. if ye like the toy then ye'll love the real thing, i ken. we'll be there in 10.

[tenowls]

not quite ming-xiong

collab charm design to match shi qingxuan by @oryunart!!

[prettybabybaby]

rating: 18+. mdni.

pairing: stepbrother!regulus x reader

word count: 1.1k

content: stepcest, dubcon

regulus’s bedroom is right beside yours. his door seeming to hold more weight than the others, your stomach feeling heavy at the mere sigh of it. you’re quiet as can be as you wander into your bedroom, light on your feet and holding your breath to rid the empty halls of any noise. you’re fearful to garner his attention before you can slam the door shut behind you once you’re in the safety of your own bedroom. it’s always safe in your space. most of the time anyway. regulus doesn’t like the fact that on the other side of the thin walls, your other older brother, sirius, likely lays lazily in his bed, scheming one thing or another.

you nearly jump out of your skin when you notice regulus sitting on your bed. his back is reclined on your headboard, his lithe fingers holding some novel, the pages weighing the left side of it down as he nears the end. he doesn’t look up as you enter, but you know he knows you’re here.

stupidly, you reach for the doorknob anyway.

“leaving already?”

your eyes flicker back to your bed, regulus stormy eyes now fixed on you. he remains as expressionless as he always is, but there’s a small flash of amusement within them that disappears as quickly as it appears. you don’t speak for a second, your lips glued shut as your blood runs cold from the mere intensity of his gaze.

before you can mutter out some unconvincing excuse, he speaks again. “come here.”

you swallow thickly, the feeling of dread heavy in your stomach. you take slow steps towards him, drawing out the time before you walk right into his arms.

you stop as your knees hit the edge of your mattress, the thick bedding brushing your skin. you look up at him, finding his eyes fixed on the flowing skirt you suddenly regret slipping on in the morning.

his hand slides beneath it, his touch splayed over the plush flesh. “I said come here.”

you had known what he meant. you knew that he wanted you to climb onto the bed and perch yourself on his lap. to present yourself to him and give him access to you.

you climb onto the bed, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. regulus taps his fingers against his thigh, his eyes locked on you as you move. you swing your leg over his lap and sit down, your hands clasped together in front of you like an obedient trained dog. you watched as his eyes roamed over you, filled with hunger and lust.

his hands rest on the tops of your thighs, roaming over the expanse before dipping to the inner area, squeezing the flesh there. he pushes the hem of your skirt up, baring even more of your skin to him but what catches his eye is the baby pink panties hugging the lips of your pussy. his thumb brushes over the front, right over your slit. you jolt at the touch, your hand twitching to push his touch away but you manage to keep it in place. regulus brushes his thumb against you again, the pad of his thumb circling the area where your clit sits, his head tilted to the side and his eyes glimmering with smug, mocking amusement.

“you were out late,” he murmurs, glancing back down to where his thumb now circles your clit through your panties. “where were you?”

“it’s mary’s birthday,” you say softly. “she had a few people over.”

regulus hums, disapproval laced within it. “and you went.”

you nod, already knowing what’s to come.

“in this… skirt.”

you nod again, muttering a halfhearted excuse, knowing he won’t believe you anyway. “the others were… dirty.”

regulus looks up at you, not the slightest bit surprised by your attempt at deception. “ah, yes. I’m sure all those appropriate dresses in your closet are so filthy.” he moves your panties to the side, parting your pussy lips and exposing your inner lips to the chill air.

you know what he’s doing. he’s inspecting your cunt, making sure no one has touched what he believes he’s entitled to. what is his.

his finger slides between the folds, the tip prodding at your dry entrance. he hums, pleased. “were you a good girl tonight?” he looks up at you again, his eyes locked on yours for any sign of hesitation.

you nod your head, but you’re words come out slightly fearful. “yes… there were… boys there,” you pause to watch regulus’s reaction, noting the subtle clench of his jaw. “but I… I didn’t talk to them, I promise. I walked away every time.”

“good,” regulus says, giving your clit a light pinch that makes you jump and hiss in discomfort. “wouldn’t want to give you another lesson so soon. think you had enough last time, huh? taught you real well.”

you stay silent, letting his touch roam your pussy. he sticks his fingers into his mouth briefly, coating his digits to aid his gliding hands exploring your tense body. his eyes flash with satisfaction and lust when your hole begins to drip with your essence, raising his fingers to your mouth that you obediently take, sucking them clean.

“that’s a good girl,” he purrs. “look at you learning so well already. you’ve only been here a few months and look at how obedient you are…” you think back to his cruel punishments, knowing better than to disobey.

he pats the side of your thigh. “lay down. you’ve earned a nice reward, sweet girl. would you like that?”

your stomach feels heavy but you know better than to show it, instead nodding your head and moving off his lap. you slowly lift your shirt over your head, slowly and teasingly as regulus has taught you. he lets out a small groan, his hand raising to paw at your tits, squeezing them and ghosting over your pebbling nipples.

you lay down next, sliding your skirt off before slowly peeling your panties away, baring yourself. regulus rises to his knees, still fully clothed. you spread your legs wide, allowing him to see your pussy completely.

“good girl,” he emphasizes, yanking his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, hard and leaking like it always seems to be when you’re around.

“no crying this time,” he says, his heavy cock slapping your clit. “I hate when you do that. I could be a lot meaner than I am and if you keep up all that weeping, I won’t hesitate to show you.”

you nod again, bracing yourself for his inevitable harsh thrust, impaling you completely with one swift move. “I won’t… won’t cry. I’m… I’m strong.”

“that’s right,” he says, giving your cheek a light and almost loving tap, his hips meeting yours as he thrusts meanly. you bite your lip, holding back your tears with everything in you. he smirks, “my strong little sister.”

[sparticus2000art]

Behold! One of the scrungliest creatures alive- Spamton G. Spamton, the GOAT himself

I’ve had the rough idea for this for ages, but misplaced the original sketch…. But hey! He’s done now !

[theomegapoint]

I just know that if you gave me a chance, I could make you feel so good.

[hopesaheartache]

I never thought I'd be creating an new account and being active on Tumblr again after years just to talk about a new THG book, but I've shipped Hayffie for more than half my life and people on Twitter are really getting on my nerves, so I needed to vent with people I know will understand.

I have some issues with certain narrative choices in SOTR, but I expected that since I’m not a big fan of prequels, especially ones released long after the original story. I think it's very tough to write a prequel more than a decade later without some things feeling like retcons. I had the same issue with TBOSAS, but I’m good at just ignoring that kind of thing. The original trilogy will always exist, so it doesn’t really affect me that much.

But I cannot stand seeing so many people saying the new book makes Hayffie impossible and acting like they're smarter because they don't ship it.

We've always known that Haymitch had a girlfriend when he was a teenager. It's not new information.

Haymitch and Lenore Dove had a sweet, young, idealized love - that ended up being an eternal what if and could it be if Haymitch had never gone to the Games, if Lenore Dove hadn’t died, if they had been born in a better world.

But Haymitch did go to the Games. Lenore Dove did die. They were born into a terrible world.

So why would it be so wrong for him to find love again? To allow himself to be happy? To have a relationship that works within the reality he actually lives in, instead of the one that could have been?

The reason I was drawn to Hayffie years ago and the reason most of my main ships are between mature characters instead of teenagers is because I’ve always found it more interesting when two people, in later stages of life, with scars, baggage, and different experiences, still manage to learn from each other, discover new things, and allow themselves to grow.

It’s so tragic to think of someone’s life as over when they were only 16. And Haymitch’s life is already tragic enough.

What SOTR establishes as canon shows that, despite all odds, Effie and Haymitch are gentle with each other from the very beginning. Despite all the propaganda and life in the Capitol, Effie is introduced as someone involved with the Games because of the love she has for her sister, as a kind person, as someone who knows Haymitch won’t hurt her.

Despite their social and ideological differences - and all the friction between them - they spend two decades keeping each other company in a horrible environment designed to discourage any kind of bond. They still work together as a team.

Post-Mockingjay, when they have to carry the weight of all their pain, torture, loss, and war, why is it so hard to imagine that they would help each other figure out who they are in a world without the Games? That they would help each other process the pain and learn to live with some peace and hope for the days ahead? That two people who know each other so well would slowly build their slow-burn romance, allowing themselves to love and be loved?

And none of this erases the impact or the feelings Haymitch had for Lenore Dove. It's just different. Simple as that.

He may believe that geese mate for life, but in reality, he hasn’t had the same life in a very long time. And in this new life, it’s Effie who walks beside him.

[seleneprince]

The Neglected! Wife from my yandere!batfam au

Name: Rosa Perez (only by default. Insert whatever name you want there)

-Hispanic inmigrant. She came to Gotham as a kid with her family, looking for a better life...and to expand their criminal empire.

-She was born into crime. She was raised in it, and damn good at it. It was the family bussiness, and from a young age she was pushed into taking part on the usual gruesome parts of the job.

-Killing, torturing, trafficking, all the drill. And when she got older, she became a sex worker too, which allowed her to scout for information to blackmail people, conspire against them in the most painful way...or end them in their most vulnerable moments.

-Her family built their empire from nothing. From the streets of their native country to the alleys of Gotham, they became a force to be reckoned with. And she was one of the most efficient, dangerous assets. The ace, the multitasker. There was nothing she wouldn't do if there was profit in it.

-They weren't the most loving or healthy family in the world, but they were all she had. In the end, they always got each other's back no matter what. And she didn't have many options anyway.

-Then, as a teen, she met a boy. The total opposite of her. Rich, composed, with impeccable manners and a deep, almost obsessive sense of justice and morality, as white and clean as the clothes he prided himself in wearing. A golden boy, brought up in the kind of luxury and privileges that you can only have by being born in the right family. She hated him on sight. And it was mutual.

-He represented everything she despised of Gotham's socialite. The lack of self-awareness over his privileged position, the ignorance of the systemathic oppression they were partly responsible for against people like her, the hypocritical morality he carried like an honor badge that was only valid when it came to certain problems but was actually full of loopholes. His smug confidence, his naïvety, his stupid belief that he alone could make Gotham a better place. Where the guilty would be punished accordingly and the victims avenged.

-It was laughable, really, if it wasn't so pathetic too. Which is why they always clashed whenever they crossed paths. He was too idealistic, she was too realistic. They were from completely different worlds, facing against each other like twisted mirrors.

-And yet, as time passed, as they grew up watching each other change, how the world around them evolved with them as well, something between them...shifted. She couldn't tell exactly when it happened, but the fights turned into fiesty debates. The debates into softer talks in rooftops or in his car. Maybe it began when he asked her to show him the world through her eyes, to help him understand better so he could actually make a difference in the future. Maybe it was when, along the way, she started to see the world through his eyes too.

-Without wanting it, without even meaning to, she started to like that boy. And then, she fell in love with the man he became.

-Neither of them could imagine how that taking that simple step would be the beginning of the happiest years of their lives...and their downfall.

-Because her man was broken, beyond repair, divided in two fragments of his soul that fought for control constantly and threatened to destroy himself. Sometimes it was him, the man she knew, and sometimes it was another one wearing his face.

-But she loved him. With every fibre of her heart, every nerve of her body, it all pulsed for him. With that man, she not only learnt the meaning of true love, she also learnt to love herself. And no one, not even that demon who stole his face sometimes, could take that away from her. Because beneath those broken fragments, beneath that darkness that threatened to swallow her too, she knew he was still the boy who made her feel alive like nothing else, who made her laugh until her face hurt, who stood with her when she fought her own demons.

-And yet...life has a really twisted and sick sense of humour. It loves to mess with them.

-She got pregnant for the first time, entirely by accident...and it wasn't from the man she loved.

-It had been a busy, drunk night, another one enduring the worst of her job. She was tired as well, and a rich man spotted her across the club she worked at. When he approached her, she told him the same words she threw at everyone who showed her that kind of interest:

"I don't come for free, sunshine."

-Turns out he had no problem with that. He could afford it. That and the whole club. And so, he ended hiring her company for the night. She recognised him too late, but she couldn't turn down a client. Specially not this one. No matter the conflict in her heart.

-Because how could she not recognise Bruce fucking Wayne himself? And given their story, no less?

-She remembers their first real meeting as if it was yesterday. Of course, that stupid night at the club wasn't the first time their paths crossed. Back when they were still young, foolish, and reckless in their own ways. His expensive car slammed into her, not hard enough to kill, but enough to send her stumbling back. Slammed into the hood, then rolled off, her bodyt hitting the pavement with a thud.

-She remembers already having a bad day, and that only made her see red.

-Before she knew it, before she could even think, she punched the window. Her bare fist colliding with the glass with a brutal force that could be explained by her rage (and maybe years of experience breaking bones). Glass spidered instantly under the impact, and she wasted no time in letting them know what she thought:

"Are you blind, rich boy?! The hell kinda driving is that?!

-And of course, because it couldn't be any other way, her lover, back when they still couldn't stand each other, was already storming out of the car to get in her face. Yelling

"What the hell, Rosa?! You just punched his car's damn window off. Are you fucking insane?!"

-And she screamed right back.

"Excuse me?! How am I the insane one here?!" she shot back, stepping toe-to-toe with him. "Your dumbass friend over here almost ran me over! All that money for expensive cars and yet you idiots can't fucking drive? Figures."

-And that was the first time she and Bruce Wayne saw each other, although she didn't actually see much of him back there. She was too busy standing in the middle of the street, in the middle of another full-blown screaming match with the future love of her life. And Bruce didn't get out of the car (probably scared they'll chew his head off if he intervened).

-And he never left his life after that. He always hovered on the edges of her world, one way or another, like two planets circling around the sun. Same orbit, but never actually making contact. Until, of course, that fateful night where her life changed forever.

-She barely remembers how it started. She remembers his hands, strong, calloused, nothing like the man she loved. She remembers words whispered in the dim glow of expensive hotel lighting. She remembers the kind of warmth that felt like a brief escape from her chaotic life.

-She remembers waking up alone and thinking: ·Good. That’s all it was meant to be."

-Then she went back to her life. She made out with her lover and everything went back to normal. And for a while, she didn't think of that one-night stand again.

-Until she was late. Until she had to take a test. Until she stared at two pink lines and felt her stomach drop.

-She was told to abort the baby by those close to her, since not only it would be another burden for her, but she wouldn't be able to give them a good life.

-However, she refused everytime. She briefly considered using the baby to get a hold of the Wayne's fortune, but she dismissed that thought quickly, and decided to keep her precious babygirl to herself instead. The high society wouldn't ever accept them anyway, and if they gave a shit, it'll be only to take her baby away from her.

-For the first time in her life, Rosa had something more worth living for. Something that was entirely hers, her own creation. And she refused to let anyone or anything take it from her. It made her realise romantic love didn't hold a candle to what she felt the first time she heard her baby's heartbeat.

-She could've told her partner the truth. She thought she deserved to know, but then...she saw it in his eyes. The genuine joy when he first held the ultrasound in his hands. The way he whispered, "She’s perfect, my love. She will be ours." Even though he knew she wasn't. Not really.

-So she told him a slightly concealed truth. That the father was a client, an accident from one drunken night. A faceless man neither of them needed to worry about, because she had no intention of letting know of this. She didn't want him involved. Not when she already had the perfect father for her babygirl right by her side.

-He had stepped into the role of father for her daughter without hesitation, with joy. And then, when she had the twins, his biological children, she thought that would be it. That everything would be fine. Bruce Wayne would never be part of her life. That she would never have to see him again or ask him for anything. She even left the gang and her work behind, ready to start anew with her new family and devote herself to them. She found a much cozier place as a waitress in the Iceberg Lounge (Penguin owed her some favours anyway).

-But life decided to fuck her over again.

-Suddenly, the man she loved was ripped away from her. His name was splattered across headlines, his legacy destroyed beyond salvation. Batman took him and Arkham picked him up, trapping him indefinitely in those endless walls of madness.

-The man who once held her at night, who whispered dreams of a better life, was now gone. Their protector, their provider, the one she trusted with hers and their chidren's future. Because he promised he wouldn't fail them. That he would always be there for them, and they'll build a happy future together, with a better Gotham once he fixed it to his image.

-Suddenly, she was alone. No allies. No protection. No way to keep her children safe.

-And when Gotham’s underbelly came knocking, those who had blood debts to pay with her other family, sent men to end her life in front of her babies, she realized something brutal and undeniable as she washed the blood of her hands:

-They weren't going to survive.

-Not if they kept living this way. Relying on others, trusting their lives in other's hands. She had to act. And now.

-And she saw it clear as a day. There was only one way to fix this. It was unthinkable, she hated it, but looking at her children's lost, scared faces, her heart squeezed painfully. Her feelings didn't matter. Whatever sense of loyalty she felt for her lover didn't matter. Her children were her priority.

-After she burned the house, with all evidence inside, she was interrogated by the police. She kept her kids behind her all the time, never letting a single officer so much look at them. She felt that she would claw the eyes out of whoever tried to talk to them. Then, Comissary Gordon took the lead and guided her to his car. She expected to be taken to the comissary for the boring, official procedure, but instead, he took them to a damn ice-scream stand.

-He paid for their orders, offered them seats and just. Sat there. Watching as the children ate their ice-scream peacefully, sometimes running around, as if the sugar made them forget what they just went through. And seeing Gordon's face when she asked him why, why did he do that, she realised that was precisely his intention. Make them forget, if only for those brief minutes.

-She's still grateful with him for it. He's the only person in the GPCD she tolerates.

-Afterwards, they stayed in an cheap hotel in the outskirts of the city. She couldn't go to her relatives, that's where her enemies would look. She hid, hid her children, and blackmailed the hotel's receptionist to keep their mouth shut about their presence with stuff she had about them from years ago.

-The following days were a blurr. Taking care of her kids, making sure they were safe, and stalking the hell out of Bruce Wayne.

-Watching, studying, looking for his weaknesses. She was going to force his hand somehow. She was desesperate, out of options, and completely determined to get to him.

-The constant thought clawed at the back of her head: "Find the man. Find his weakness. If nothing else, steal from him. Use his name. Use his resources. Use whatever you can. He owes you that much."

-And then? She saw it.

-Saw Batman, the untouchable legend, Gotham’s untouchable king, remove his cowl. And suddenly, it all made sense.

-Of course. Of course. The richest man in Gotham, who disappeared at night. The philanthropist with no actual time to be one. The cold, untouchable billionaire, who acted like a ghost in his own city.

-Bruce Wayne was Batman. The Dark Knight. And the man who put the love of her life in Arkham Asylum, ruining their lives.

-And there, along with the crushing shock, she felt a cold sense of satisfaction. Finally, she had it. She had his weakness. She knew exactly what to do.

-She put on her best dress. Dressed her daughter accordingly too. And after entrusting her youngest kids to a relative for a short while, she drove them both to Wayne Manor. Not before telling them that things were going to change for better now.

-She walked into his house, into his fortress, ready to make him pay. For the child he put in her. For the choices he made. For the consequences of his actions. Whether he liked it or not.

-She sat in the chair in front of him, poured herself a drink, and greeted him with a smile laced with venom.

"We need to talk, cariño."

-She slid a folder across the desk. Their daughter’s birth certificate, along with the pictures she took revealing his real identity.

-His eyes scanned the paper, and for the first time in his life, she seemed surprised. Shaken. He looked up to her with fire blisting in his eyes, but she smiled back.

"You took something from me, from us" she said, voice even, but dangerous. "You took him away. And now? You’re going to make up for it."

-She held her daughter's shoulder, finally getting him to look at her. Her fingers tightened in reflect. She reminded herself why she was doing this, why she had to. For the little girl besides her, and the other two waiting for them to return. She would throw herself at the mercy of Satan himself if she had to.

-Because this was his fault. Their father was gone because of him. She was alone because of him. Her children were in danger and almost died because of him.

-And so, like that, they got married. There wasn't a ceremony. Just signing the papers and exchanging rings. She didn't need more. Didn't want more. The only wedding she wanted flushed down the toilet when Batman threw her partner behind a cell.

-The four of them moved to the manor. Their bedrooms were alocated on the opposite side of the manor to theirs, isolating her further. She knew it was a punishment, the only way he had to get back at her. As if she cared. She didn't marry him for love or attention. She wanted his surname behind her kids' names so they were safe. Besides, she would've set the curtains on fire before sharing a bed with him.

-What she couldn't stand was seeing the cold indifference directed to her children, specially to her oldest daughter. The one who was a Wayne by blood. Okay, she couldn't expect Bruce to care for the twins, they weren't his biologically (and if God listened to her, he wouldn't ever know who their father was), but her oldest girl? Her precious babygirl? She was his. The DNA tests he took himself afterwards confirmed it. She was the breathing copy of Martha Wayne, for fuck's sake. Shouldn't that make him feel something? Anything?

-It pained her more than anything, because there was nothing she could do. She couldn't fix the crushed look in her sweet girl's eyes at the rejections, the constant dissapointment, the crushing realisation that her siblings didn't love her. That her new father didn't care about her.

-She almost broke when her little girl told her she missed her other dad, the one who actually loved her. She cried herself to sleep in her room. "I miss him too, my love. I miss the man who loved me."

-But this was their life now. This...this was for the best. She could handle a loveless, cold marriage. She also vowed to never follow her heart again, never rely on anyone else beyond the bare minimum. She trusted love to keep them safe, and it almost cost her everything. Never again.

-Let them look down on her, on her children. Let Batman's little soldiers hate her, resent her for blackmailing him. Let him ignore their daughter, the child he put in her because he couldn't use a fucking condom.

-At the end of the day, her children will be safe and healthy. And that's all that matters.

-If she has to go back to her roots and stain her hands with blood again to ensure it, so be it.

[bluewolfangel01]

I feel uhhh so silllyy for requesting this but what if sheep mc snapped at like the brothers cuz there’s no way their 100+ year old asses are still acting like angsty teenagers (MC has a delusional joy moment😔😔😔)

It's okay, this is a very interesting request and I'm glad to do it 😁

I will specifically be writing Mc as a sheep like in the manga cause tiny pissed off sheep going off on tall and powerful demons is hilarious (sorry for the wait btw)

angy Mc is funny Mc and you can't change my mind

(I headcanon that the brothers sense their sin on Mc/you btw)

-Angy Mc-

Satan was the first one to sense something was up after a few minutes after his brothers and him started arguing

At first he wasn't sure what he was sensing, until he realized that he felt his sin, pure festering wrath

The worst part? He realized that it coming from Mc, who oddly enough was just sitting quietly on the couch, blankly staring at their phone in front of them

Satan went quite

Which caught the attention of the other brothers, who also turned their shouting at Satan, and even though Satan was very tempted to strick back at them, he held his tongue for once

Mc: "Can you all not fight, argue, or yell FOR ONE DAY?!"

It was at this point the brothers knew, they f#cked up (and went silent)

Mc: "Honestly, I know yall are brothers and demons so this kinda stuff is bound to happen but for Diavolo's sake this is getting ridiculous!"

Mc: *points hoof at Belphie* " Belphie. I know you're the avatar of sloth and therefore sleep a lot, but you can't solve all your problems and grief by sleeping the time away constantly, and the youngest brother brat thing doesn't always make you endearing!"

Mc: *points hoof at Beel* "Beel. I know you have survivors guilt but Lilith ended up living with humans like she wanted, Belphie doesn't need you standing up for him all the time, and you needn't continue to try to fill the hole inside you by eating in a restaurant that has no more food when you could just go down the street to another food place!"

Mc: *points hoof at Asmo* "Asmo. I know you ~get it on~ mainly to distract yourself from your troubles, to make yourself forget even just for a bit, sometimes but you can't push those feelings down forever, so actually talk with someone, anyone, about whats bothering you rather then trying ignore it! And stop hitting on your brothers, it's kinda weird!"

Mc: *points hoof at Satan* "Satan. I know you have an inferiority complex when it comes to Lucifer, but for the love of Diavolo, you wouldn't be called Satan, avatar of wrath, if you were like Lucifer in the first place. You have blonde hair and like cats, Lucifer has black grey-ish hair and likes dogs. AND THATS JUST THE START OF THE CONTRASTS! You are your own person, get that through your thick skull!"

Mc: *points hoof at Levi* "Levi. I know that it's easy to compare yourself to others and not at least feel somewhat bad about yourself but how do you not realize that you're the best tech wiz we got, an amazing gamer, and the most dedicated being I've ever seen in my life! So if you think that you're not good at something think again!"

Mc: *points hoof at Mammon* "Mammon. How in the whole Devildom is the Avatar of Greed almost always poor?! Also I know you are a material gorl, but items and things can't fully fill the void that you feel, so stop acting all emotionally constipated and just ask for affection if you want it!"

Mc: *points hoof at Lucifer* "And you Lucifer. I know you're the eldest and the prideful one, but there is such a thing as shouldering too much and being stubborn to a fault! Ask for help and for Diavolo to lessen your workload every once in a while! And stop not telling your brothers important things, rather then being all secretive to try to 'protect them' youre just hurting yourself and them cause of it!"

Silence was all that could be heard in the House of Lamentation, the brothers still as statues with varying amount of widened eyes, staring at the small being that they cherished that had just ripped into them so aggressively

After a minute ofa dead silent pause, Mc turned off their phone, hopped off the couch and started walking to the living room exit

Mc: "Honestly, I didn't expect to become a therapist for demons when coming here, and now I can't even read my enemies to lovers book in even somewhat peace.... I don't get paid enough for this."

They then disappeared from the brothers' sight, left to wrap their heads around what just happened

And the arguement that started it all? Who was going to make dinner that night

[lifeandtimesoftrying]

I just watched "Looking for Par'Mach in All the Wrong Places" (S05 E03), and something that really appeals to me about the Keiko/Miles/Kira ship is that Keiko and Miles are very much part of a family in a way that Kira's never had. Kira grew up in a refugee camp, believed her mother died when she was 3, joined the resistance when she was 12--effectively, due to the occupation, she never got to have a childhood like, say, Molly has.

While Miles has plenty of war memories of his own, and I assume that's at least somewhat affected Keiko, all of that happened when they were adults so they still had that reference of what a good childhood looks like. Miles still views Ireland as a home, and when he goes back there, he is going back to both a family and memories that are good. (I don't think we've explicitly gotten similar information about Keiko, but I'm chalking that up to her generally not being present in the show as much.)

Kira, in contrast, has never had a home in the same way. I doubt she'd go back to the refugee camp to reminisce, and she was constantly moving during her time with the resistance. When DS9 starts, Bajor has been free for less than a year, and Kira's living on a space station designed by Cardassians, serving under a Federation officer. She is proud of Bajor as her home, but she doesn't have a home on Bajor.

Furthermore, much of her relationship to Bajor itself is either based in the past ("Bajor used to have freedom/sophisticated technology/important artistic achievements/etc") or the future ("what does a healed Bajor look like; should it join the Federation; what will be its role in trade"). This is also reflected in the romantic relationships she's had so far. Vedek Bariel represented the ancient religious traditions (albeit in a more progressive way). Shakaar represents the forward march of the government, especially with how his political career would go against his caste pre-occupation, which is touched upon in S04E17 "Accession."

All in all, Kira's view on her life is rarely ever in the present, which is a fantastic contrast to the O'Briens. They have a daughter who is young enough that every few months she has a new development; they regularly make a point to be romantically (and sexually) close to one another; while Keiko is far from thrilled about their location, they intentionally make it work where they are. Their jobs also contribute to this. We mostly see the DS9 crew resolving crises, but dialogue implies that a lot of Miles' time is actually spent repairing small issues when they pop up, and Keiko goes on a whole expedition to study flora, which is governed by the seasons.

Kira carrying their baby entangles her in that same mindset. Her being pregnant demands that she pay attention to where she is then and there--she's always physically reminded of her condition, which keeps her locked in a fairly narrow timeframe. Plus, her moving in with the O'Briens means that she must get used to their daily rhythms. Kira's self-proclaimed lack of imagination impacts this as well. I love it as a character trait, but it raises the question of why she's that way.

My theory is that some of it is innate, but it was exacerbated by the trauma she experienced as a child. Childhood is often characterized as a time of great imagination and creative exploration, and Kira just... never had that. I can't find the precise quote, but when she is asked (I believe by Sisko?) if she ever had any daydreams, she responds that she'd dream that the Cardassians would leave Bajor and let the Bajorans live. Her attitude towards the Holoprograms lines up with this as well; she sees little point in doing something that isn't actually happening. For her to find value in something, it must be real--it must be useful. She used her one fantasy to turn herself into a soldier. And, pragmatically speaking, there is very little that is useful about romance, or candlelit dinners, or banter that leads to innuendos. So what happens when she's confronted with them?

[woozification]

the art of staying calm (until you're not)

[mncxbe]

Sfw 8 + NSFW 12 + 17 with Denji

My babygirl deserves some love <3

the way i ate this up😳 the brainrot is brainrotting. collegeAU with Denji cuz I like to believe he'd be as much of a loser then♡ gaah i love him so much. also y/n is rich rich👀 for extra silly and damn this turned out way longer than i anticipated.

8– accidentally walking in on them while they're changing

12– catching them stealing your panties

17– they worship your body

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: alcohol cunsumption (reader is tipsy), cunnilingus, Denji being a perv, implied virginity loss, subby Denji

For your 19th birthday you decided to host the greatest party of the year and everyone in your grade was invited.

The penthouse your parents allowed you to live in during college was nicely decorated– black and white balloons and drizzle, flashy lights and speakers that started blaring loud music as soon as the sun set. Everyone was having a blast, downing glasses of neon colored punch and cheap beer, dancing and chatting in groups. Well, everyone except you. You were painfully bored.

When you threw the party of the year you didn't expect everyone to forget the purpose of the whole fucking event– celebrating your birthday.

You've been sitting all by yourself on the couch for the past half hour, sipping on a plastic cup of cocktail. Your gaze mused on the livingroom of your apartment, trying to find someone interesting to talk to. The only people who approached you were some guys from Arts who tried to chat you up, but they rambled on about some uninteresting exhibitions and you soon got bored and shunned them.

As you got up to refill your glass, you noticed someone slipping inside your bedroom. The fuck.. you thought, pushing past drunk people on your way towards your room. You swung the door open and saw a blond guy about your age standing in front of your dresser. When he heard you barge in he immediately slammed the drawer shut, his head snapping in your direction.

It was Denji. Just Denji.

Though you briefly interacted with the Denji, you knew him from highschool. He was the guy who used to let other students use him as a chair during breaks for some spare change. You remembered working on some group projects with him back then but you seldom saw him around campus now. He mostly kept to himself, so you were surprised too see him at your party in the first place— not to mention you certainly didn't expect to catch him going through your lingerie drawer. Still, maybe this wasn't such a bad thing...

"Well, well what do we have here?" you chuckled, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed.

"Y/N hi" he said nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt "I was just um... looking for a place to change. Someone spilled some punch on my clothes"

You noticed the stain on his shirt and smiled, closing the door behind you. "And you thought you'd find a clean tshirt somewhere next to my panties?"

A blush crept on his face as he looked down at his shoes. "No, I mean I was just looking..." he fumbled "It's not like I was snooping around on purpose, i'm not that kind of guy" His voice was weak, half hearted as he looked around the room. At anything but you.

Swaying your hips, you closed the distance between you "So you're not some perv who's trying to steal my panties?" you asked and he shook his head. "N-no I'd never–"

"The show me your pockets"

Denji's face grew livid when he heard your command and you knew you had him. He was caught red handed and there wasn't much he could do about it. If he admitted maybe you'd at least allow him to stay at the party for a bit longer The boy couldn't bear to look you in the eyes as he reached a hand to the back pocket of his jeans and procured a pair of your lacy panties.

"Here, take them, but just know it's not what you think." It was cute that he still tried to find excuses for his actions and you blamed the alcohol for the heat pooling in your lower abdomen. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, you gazed up at him with droopy eyes.

All the while, Denji was getting more and more nervous. His palms were sweaty, heart hammering in his chest as he peered at you. God, you were so damn beautiful– Though he didn't admit it, Denji had a crush on you from the first moment he saw you. You were the pretties girl in school, which meant you were way out of his league. A goddess like you would never spare a moment of her time on someone like him, right? Well, his conviction was starting to crumble now that he saw the way you eyed him down with that taunting glint in your eyes.

"Ya know, Denji, I don't recall you giving me a gift or wishing me happy birthday. It's awfully rude of you." you slurred, tapping the floor with the tip of your heels.

His sorry excuses were half drowned by the blaring music in the other room. Your head was starting to get foggy from the alcohol, limbs growing heavier, as if an invisible weight was pulling you down against mattress. "Jee... quit the whining" you giggled, waving a dismissive hand in his direction "I'm not mad at you. However, I do think you need to make up for it."

"Y/N, I told you I'm in a tight spot with money this month, but I'll buy you something nice once I get my paycheck."

"I'm not talking about that" you deadpanned, a sly smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your gaze drifted down towards his belt and then back up to his face, taking in his frame. You couldn't deny he wasn't bad looking. Out of all the guys at the party, he seemed the best option for a casual hookup– not to mention he was already interested in you, so why not give it a try? With a motion of your finger, you beckoned him closer, pointing at the floor "Get on your knees."

Denji swallowed the lump in his throat and gathered the courage to step away from your dresser. With hesitant steps he covered the distance between the two of you and kneeled before you, his hands folded in his lap. His fists clenched and unclenched as he anxiously waited for your instructions.

To be frank, you never expected him to obey so you were quite taken aback by his attitude.

"You still let people order you around, Denji? How cute" you cooed, hooking your right leg over his shoulder and pulling him closer to the edge of the bed.

The blond tried his best not to peek under your skirt, his face turning red from embarrassment. He's never been so close to a girl before, let alone someone as beautiful as you and he was nervous. As if reading his mind you let out a low chuckle, hiking up your skirt.

"Come on, Denji, take off my panties. If you make me feel good I'll let you keep them."

By this point Denji was too far gone. Your silken voice put him under a spell and he eagerly pulled down your lingerie. A small moan slipped past his lips when he saw the string of arousal connecting your pussy to the silky fabric, his features melting into a pleading expression. He looked so needy, gazing at your bare cunt with those puppy eyes, his hands shaking lightly as he fully removed your panties and let them fall in his lap.

"There you go, Denji. Get a good look of it." you encouraged, running your fingers through his tangled hair to ease him into the new situation. You could tell it was his first time seeing a woman naked and didn't want to scare him off. So you took things slowly, waiting for him to get comfortable. Little did you know there was no need for that.

Denji was basically drooling over your pussy. He rested his head against your thigh, leaning into your touch as he spread your puffy folds with his thumb. His breath stuck in his throat when he noticed just how wet you were and it was all because of him. With shaky fingers, he collected the slick from your hole and spread it nicely along your clit, making you flinch.

"There?" he asked in a barely audible voice but you heard him nevertheless. "Y-yea, right there."

He slowly drew circles on your bud, making you writhe on the mattress and you spread your legs wider, shamelessly grinding on his hand. Sloppy movements over your clit had increased in intensity and you could feel the knot in your abdomen tighten with each swipe of his digits.

"Go on, baby, give it a taste" you said in a hushed voice and he immediately obliged. Hooking your other leg over his shoulder, Denji's hands gently massaged your thighs. He kissed his way up to your core, wet lips tracing the inside of your thighs, teeth nipping at your skin but not enough to leave marks.

He licked a stripe of your cunt from your hole to your clit, relishing the taste of your arousal. You were basically melting on his tongue and he was adamant to please you. As the grip on your thighs tightened, Denji collected some spit in his mouth and let the blob slide down your slit. He started eating you out slow, savouring the heat on his tongue but he soon increased the pace. It was clear that he had little idea of what he was doing– he was sloppy, messy, a mixture of slick and spit coating his chin as he lapped at your juices and you swore you got ten times wetter just by hearing him moan into your cunt.

His tongue flicked your clit so eagerly, lips wrapping around your bud, giving it an experimental suck. Your hips jolted up in pleasure but Denji quickly pulled you back on his face.

"Is it good?" he mumbled, pussy drunk eyes briefly meeting your as you nodded.

"Y-yea. You're so good Denji, gonna make me cum soon."

He mewled at your praise, his ministrations growing in intensity as heat pooled in your core. You were so close, choked moans spilling from your lips as your vision blurred. Denji made you feel so good you were starting to regret not paying more attention to him all those years back. He ate you out like it was his lifeline, hugging your thighs closer to his face to keep you from squirming too much. When you came you came hard, nails grazing his scalp as you pulled him closer to your cunt, grinding down on his face to ride out your high.

"Denji fuck—" you whined, arching your back off the mattress and he gently massaged the fat of your thighs and hips, his hands seeking your body you.

"I got you, just cum for me ok? Please feel good" he said softly, kissing your pussy and the inner side of your thighs before working his way up to your belly. He didn't dare go past the line of your dress, though all he wanted was to keep touching and kissing, to soak you up in all the love and affection he harbored for you during all these years.

When you looked down at him with those droopy, drunk-dazed eyes his heart sank, a soft smile etching onto his features.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a small voice as you pushed yourself up to sitting and held his face in your hands, leaning towards him. Denji's eyes rolled back into his skull as you kissed him, his lashes fluttering shut. You could taste yourself on his tongue along with the sweet punch he drank earlier that night. The kiss was heated and you pulled him on top of you, tugging at the wristband on his jeans.

"H-hey wait a minute I've never done this before" he tensed up but you shushed him with another needy kiss.

"Shit, I don't care if you're a virgin Denji I just need you so bad right now. Please" you huffed out and he felt his dick getting impossibly harder. He could almost cum in his pants at the sight of your pleading expression.

"Okay..." he whispered, hesitantly unbuckling his belt and you could tell he was nervous again. With sloppy movements he managed to allign himself to your entrance, shuffling around to make sure everything was alright, but just as he was about to push himself inside he perked up, patting your thigh. "Oh, Y/N I almost forgot."

"What?" you whined, grinding your needy pussy on his length. Why can't he just fuck you already?

The blond looked down at you with a lovesick smile, his eyes sparkling with adoration "I think I still haven't wished you happy birthday"

[xarology]

Boba Eyes - TFP Optimus Prime x Reader 18+ MDNI

Thoughts I got from reading another fic please hang with me here. You! with a puppy-like personality! that’s it. that’s the plot.

If there’s an opportunity to follow him you’d take it. You’re always there perched on his shoulders, whispering something silly into his audials. It reminds him of times where he was once the silly one and not tackled with prime duties

When you’re not in the mood to be silly, you lean against his helm and watch him work. Your hand constantly smoothing over the side of him helm, exploring the metal. It drives him crazy in such a good way!!! Let’s not talk about his embarrassing loud fans coming on after you dip your hand to explore his neck cabling. It startled you enough to not do it again (oh but he wishes you would)

he says random words in cybertronian when he’s talking with his teammates so he doesn’t get you excited. Mission. Scouting. Patrol. They’re all trigger words that make you jump on your heels begging to go! (life has been boring after you’ve been forcibly relocated to Jasper following the knowledge of these titan mechs)

If you’re not allowed to go for any reason you’re on the couch sulking. Ratchet is tonight’s biggest loser as his impractical jokers punishment is hearing you sigh all day long. It actually makes him antsy until he puts you to work by helping him around base when the children aren’t around. When they are however, it’s easier to distract yourself from your funk.

When Optimus gets back you want to be mad at him, you really do. You just can’t help yourself! You’re already running to give his pede a hug. You give him time to settle in and talk with the other mechs about whatever the mission was about. When you find alone time together afterwards, you’re asking all the questions!!

He loves it when you do because it gives him the opportunity to recall every detail and ponder on what he could’ve done better. There’s also a unique perspective you offer as a human and he’s always ready to hear that

Mass Displacement is a rare occurrence given their low energon reserves. HOWEVERRR! When there is more than necessary I guess he can do it just this once! (it’s never just once)

It gives him peace of mind when you’re in control. He doesn’t want to accidentally squeeze too hard and get you hurt, so he settles with you doing the work and him helping. Not that you’re complaining either, you’re practically jumping at the opportunity to have him every which way

You particularly like riding him. It makes it easier for your hands to touch all across his frame, his hands helping you ride as he lifts your hips with ease. The vibrations of his engine rumbling hitting you when you massage his seams.

Your energy seems to be boundless. There’s so many rounds and you’re always bouncing on his spike, milking him as you overstimulate each other. Your brain runs on pure bliss as you don’t register that you’re still riding. Optimus has to pull you off and you’re still seeking stimulation when you both know you can’t go any longer. He calms you down from your seemingly permanent high and you crash immediately when the exhaustion hits you

This is the same reason why you can’t cockwarm (spikewarm?) with him. At all. You can’t help trying to find stimulation and being a brat when he has you sat in his lap reading over files you don’t understand. You have too much energy and your fidget is hopping

[medusas-daughter]

I had to block so many Alicent stans bulldozing my posts lately but I need to vent. Yes, Alicent is a product of her father, yes her marriage to Viserys was traumatic, yes the way her council and her own son are treating her is awful.

Here's why I don't have a shred of empathy for her: she chose, actively, of her own volition, not manipulated by her father or husband, not pushed to it by whatever trauma, to slutshame Rhaenyra over and over, and chose, actively, to raise her sons to believe they are better than women simply because they're men. That is a choice. Don't tell me she was protecting her children because Rhaenyra would have killed them when she became queen. Rhaenyra said in front of all of ther father's council that she wanted her son and Alicent's daughter to marry. She wanted to bind both families even more. Kinslaying is a curse that Rhaenyra would have no reason to invoke if they hadn't stolen her crown. All those arguments of Rhaenyra hating her brothers stem from nothing. She literally ignored them 99% of the time, they're the ones who were obsessed with her and her kids because of Alicent's poison. Rhaenyra just saw her brothers as kids. If she hated them she wouldn't have let her sons near them. Alicent chose to torment Rhaenyra to the point where her sons only call their sister "the whore of Dragonstone" and that is not something that was imposed on her by a flawed system, that was a choice on her part.

She also chose to abuse Rhaenyra's sons for their birth. Bigotry against bastards still exists to this day. There are countries where bastards weren't allowed a last name until the last couple decades, that's how recent it is, GRRM didn't invent that. And that's just the legal repercussions, the social ones are worse. I don't take that hate lightly. Alicent chose to remind the whole of the Red Keep over and over to keep calling those children bastards. She made them feel unsafe in their own home. She chose to make her sons hate their nephews and torment them for being bastards. That was a choice that wasn't pushed on her, she did that all on her own.

I have been slutshamed and abused by women like Alicent my whole life. And guess what, the patriarchy those women suffered under? We're all suffering under it. Some of us chose not to take it out on other women. And some of us chose to pander to the man and uphold the patriarchy like it's their life's purpose. Is Alicent a complex nuanced character? I would argue yes actually. She was a victim of certain circumstances and guilty of others. She's quite realistic. She's every right wing woman I've ever met. And no I don't have empathy. She made her bed. She can die in it for all I care.

Also, I don't hate her anymore than I hate the rest of the greens. I'm just angrier at her because a man calling his ex a whore is like a dime a dozen there's so many of them. A woman calling another woman a whore? That stings. That hurts a lot more than anything a man could say.