#just “don't fuck with me! i have the power of god and anime on my side! HUAHHHHHHH”

[cluescorner]

Started crying over the Batman Beyond Animated Movie concept art. I am so normal.

[shinidamachu]

I also noticed in my reread of the manga that the anime made Kikyo seem more powerful. In the manga Inuyasha easily parried Kikyo’s attack when she was first resurrected and chose to throw aside the sword to reason with her, and even got ready to strike her down and cracked his knuckles in order to bring Kagome back. In the anime he was easily overwhelmed by Kikyo and was only saved by Kagome waking up. I’m seeing Sunrise’s bias 🙄

And there's nothing wrong with making Kikyo seem more powerful. Inuyasha was constantly getting upgrades for Tessaiga without us as much as batting an eye over it.

The difference is that we were there when he found and got Tessaiga. We were there to see him struggle to master it. We were there for each and every single breakthrough. We know the how and we know the why.

Kikyo's power-ups, on the other hand, seem to come out of thin air most of the time. I'm sure she must have worked for it, but it wasn't shown, so there's a bit of a disconect between her journey getting there and the audience, which makes her achievements turn out to be not as satisfying as they could have been.

It's like, we know what the stabilished powers of a pristess are and so we think we know what Kikyo's powers are limited to, but then she does something new that doesn't fit that criteria and our only explanation is that she was the most powerful priestess of her time. Which makes sense, but also tells us that it's not important how she came to be so powerful, only that she is.

So why should we care when she uses a new trick? It's probably something she has known how to do for a while, anyway. We weren't rooting for her to get it right. We weren't anticipating it. We just roll with it.

The problem is that, in order to make Kikyo seem more powerful, Sunrise often gave her scenes where Kagome was originally the one kicking ass and taking names. And that's what I have issues with. Take this scene for instance:

Kikyo is the kind of character who doesn't do anything without a reason, so why would she interfere? She doesn't really knows Koga. She has probably no idea of his connection to Inuyasha — and even if she had, I don't peg her for comeone who'd care, considering how she treated Kagome most of the time. Koga is a demon with two jewel shards. Why help him out instead of taking them from him herself or waiting Naraku's incarnation finish the job to sweep in and do it? Because in the manga, Kagome is the one who saves Koga:

Which makes infinitely more sense and proves that there was no actual reason behind this "creative" change other than making Kikyo look cooler. The entirety of Sunrise's adaptation is full of these little shenanigans. Do you want to see a practical example of how this affects the general perception of the audience regarding the characters?

Here's Kagome diligently destroying a Naraku puppet to save an unconscious Kikyo. She actively uses the bow and arrow she didn't know how to shoot in the beginning of her journey to save someone she judges to be her love rival. And she suceeds without overthinking it or breaking a sweat.

But Sunrise thought it would be better to just do this instead:

The result? People naturally praise Kikyo for being the biggest girl boss in Inuyasha for stuff that was originally done by Kagome:

Don't get me wrong, it's great that people will appreciate Kikyo — this was exactly what Sunrise was going for, anyway — but it rubs me the wrong way that it came with the price of Kagome getting constantly criticized for being a "damsel in distress" who never does anything.

When your adaptation changes the story so much that people wrongfully perceives your female lead as useless despite the many, many scenes you still animated of her saving the day — and specifically saving the life of her supposed rival, who they judge to be much stronger and independent than her — that's when you know you fucked up.

And the worst part is that people are either blissfully unaware of this irony — because they haven't read the manga — or straight up dishonest about it.

The funny thing is: Kikyo didn't need any of that. What Sunrise did was the equivalent of taking original scenes of her being kind or compassionate and giving it to Kagome instead. It wasn't necessary. Kikyo was stabilished as a powerful woman from her very first appearance:

Kagome was the one who needed to prove herself in battle because she was the 15 year modern girl who was tossed untrained in the middle of a feudal era "life or death" situation. She was the one I wanted to see exploring and using her spiritual powers, because that's what her character needed to grow.

What Kikyo needed was humanization, glimpses of the ordinary woman she has always wanted to be. Empowerment is important, but it's also multifaceted and it falls flat when it focuses on power for the sake of power.

I'd gladly exchange any of those changes for scenes of Kikyo coping with taking a human life or using women's souls to stay on the world of the living. Scenes of Kikyo realizing she has become the very thing she used to fight against and how seeking for revenge affected the people she loves.

Scenes of Kikyo regretting decisions she can't take back, scenes of Kikyo bonding with Kaede both before and after her death, scenes of Kikyo acknowledging the part she played on the way her relationship with Inuyasha ended and apologizing for the hell she put him through over it.

That's how you make her character relatable and empathetic. That's how you highlight her complexities and makes her interesting. Kikyo being pretty while shooting arrows is absolutely stunning on screen, but it does little to create a truly emotional attachment to her character, at least for me.

As for the particular scene you brought up, Inuyasha was, in fact, easily overwhelmed by Kikyo in the anime. When she first attacks him, he just... lets her.

While in the manga, Inuyasha is quick to dodge it.

He does try to defend himself in the anime. However, Kikyo's arrow manages to stop Tessaiga's transormation and almost hits his heart.

None of which happens in the anime, where Inuyasha not only defends himself but also actively pushes back.

Sure, Kikyo still succeeds in zapping the hell out of him, but only because Inuyasha threw Tessaiga aside to reason with her, like you pointed out. When that didn't work, he cracked his knuckles in order to strike her down, before realizing he couldn't do it and then Kagome comes in with the save. In the anime, he didn't even try.

And the hug I mentioned, when he's attempting to appease Kikyo and she cries on his arms for a moment? Completely erased in favor of making her push her elderly sister aside twice and hurting Inuyasha more than originally intended while also referring to him as "beast", "monster" and "half breed."

I understand why Sunrise wanted to give Kikyo more screen time – she's a key character and people seem to have a good time drawing and animating her – but they focused mostly on making her look "cool" by kicking up a notch on the whole "vengeful spirit" thing and ended up shooting themselves on the foot by going too far.

They really thought the nonsense added scenes, like Inuyasha watching her bath or telling the audience they were always by each other's side – while actually showing them sitting far apart, Inuyasha being left to chase after the carriage she was in instead of being there with her, etc – would make up for the hug they cut out in order to give Kikyo more "badass" moments.

That's because they realized the couple had no substancy whatsoever and to remedy that, prioritized telling us that they were together for at least a couple of seasons instead of making the effort to show us this so called deep love. The hug was meaningful and made sense. Inuyasha dramatically laying on the ground while mentally screaming her name after telling her she needed to return the last piece of Kagome's soul – which is how Sunrise decided to end the episode – did not.

Especially because in the manga, he checked on Kagome before...

And after he left to try and get the remaining piece of her soul back – knowing what it would mean to Kikyo.

Plus, while obviously sad about Kikyo's "death", he also seems to accept this was for the best and acts like he is pretty much ready to move on.

Not to mention how he panicked when Shippo brought up the possibility of Kagome not being Kagome anymore and how absolutely relieved he was when he realized it wasn't the case.

And if this wasn't enough, he spent a good three panels blushing over Kagome right after the whole ordeal.

Those scenes had two purposes. One was to solidify, once more, Kagome as her own person to the audience and to Inuyasha, as well as a love interest. He had the opportunity to get Kikyo back and still wanted her to return the soul – even if it meant Kikyo would cease to exist – because he didn't want to risk Kagome not waking up or not being herself anymore, since he was already falling in love with her. Kikyo herself guilt trips him about it when he tries to convince her.

The other was to contrast Inuyasha's first reaction to Kikyo's ressurection and the information that they were both set up with his reaction after he was told that Kikyo died for him and therefore he owes her his life. The former consists on him standing up for himself and rightfully seeing himself as a victim, the latter consists on him blaming himself out of proportion based on a blalant lie. That's why in the manga he takes her "second" death so well, while the others really take a toll on him. In the anime, however, it's like he is already blaming himself when she falls off that cliff.

I attribute this change of attitude to another scene Sunrise thought fit to delete:

Of course the anime also has Inuyasha denying Kikyo's accusations, but he is way less effusive about it in there. Originally, when he realizes they were fooled into thinking they betrayed each other, he acts like they were both at fault for distrusting each other and are, therefore, even. So when she "dies" there's nothing he can do but wish for her to rest in peace and move on despite how sad it makes him.

All of this really sucks, because as you can see, the changes they did in favor of Kikyo either didn't work on her favor at all or heavily impacted the characterization of others – Inuyasha and Kagome especially – in a negative way, in addition to creating huge inconsistencies plot and narrative wise.

TLDR: yes, Sunrise's bias is obvious. And ironically, I think if they had liked Kikyo less, she would have been a much better written character because they wouldn't be afraid to give her the development she needed.

[crow-the-unknown]

part of me is glad i skipped the pens game today lmao (partially cos my avs won)

i hate rangers fans and if i had been there when they were chanting "crosby sucks" i would have personally fought each and every one of those bastards because they have absolutely no clue at all

try winning a cup this century and then we'll talk about him "sucking" huh? or maybe three-

or maybe try becoming one of the top 100 players ever, or try staying as good as you were at the start of your career for 15+ years, try being a genuinely great human and player in general, or-

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

https://twitter.com/sluttywh0r3/status/1738661113154220340?t=VYLoAeMTbPq_UQ-a7lMuVA&s=19

You were both so horny but you just ran out of your birth control and didn't have any condoms so Simon said he'd pull out only to have you riding him and refusing to get off of him and begging him to cum inside you

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

READ IT HERE- Coming Soon

9-1-1, yes hello? There is an attempted murder in progress. Yes, it is on my sanity, thank you.

Seriously, you guys are trying to kill me, right? Because there is no way in hell I am supposed to read that and stay sane. I'm gonna have to take a minute just to get through the rest of this post after the flood of images that just entered by brain.

But damn if it ain't a pretty scenario to think about. I am mean come on, just thinking about you and Simon being so fucking out of your minds horny for each other that you are willing to risk everything is hot as hell. Just him heavy breathing in your ear, telling you how good he wants to make you feel, the vibration from his voice making your clit throb as his lips leave trails of tingles along the side of your neck from the warmth of his lips.

Just the feeling of you under his fingertips has him panting as he tries to shove his hands in your pants, in your shirt, or both if he's lucky. He needs to make you come, it's the only thing he cares about in that moment; he needs to know that he has the power to make you fall apart and it consumes him until it is agony.

Probably wouldn't even make it to the god damn bed before he is ripping off your clothes as fast as those thick fingers can get into them and then immediately throwing your legs on his shoulders and thrusting inside you the second he can; he'd just drag you onto the floor with him and spread your thighs wide. That massive, virile man isn't going be able to create anything more than a few coherent words before it's all grunts like an animal in heat.

"We'll be careful. Com' on, sweetheart...Mmmm fuck... swear I'll fuckin' pull out. Just need ta be inside ya."

(I can feel the flames licking at me right now just for thinking about this lol).

Then you end up on top and Simon is on cloud fucking nine watching you completely lose your mind at how good it feels that the minute you start begging him to come inside you, that promise he made to you about pulling out flies out the fucking window without a second thought. You pleading with him to fill you up is going to awaken that feral part of his brain that he will not be able to control and it's gonna be all over.

"Christ, can't say no to ya ever, pretty girl. Ya want it inside ya, that's what your gonna fuckin' get."

He'd be so out of it, high off the feeling of you riding him into oblivion that he will not even fight you on it. He isn't even going to hesitate to keep going all the way until you both are a whole god damn mess and you are leaking his cum. Shit he'd make sure you got everything you want by keeping your hips locked together with his tight grip as he begins to slam up into you harder and harder, loudly grunting from the strain through that point of no return. The risk would be 100% worth it at that point.

And you'd be so gone with his cock shoved so far in you that your brain cannot even create a single thought other than to come on it. So what if this hot as hell romp leads to an oopsie; he'd make a great dad, right?

Don't worry, he's thinking the same thing and he's fine with it.

"Jus' don't fuckin' stop."

Give me a bit to write this all out cause I really really REALLY need this to be a full fledged fic.

[manicpixiefelix]

baby, put your back into it {Farleigh Start/Reader/Oliver Quick}

1/2: i'm gonna talk you through it [SMUT]

Summary: You're the daughter of one of Henrys, and known to be a snobby, entitled Princess of a woman; neither Venetia nor Felix seems to like you. Farleigh, however, claims that you and he have an ongoing arrangement. Felix says that arrangement is that you and Farleigh bitch together, then fuck like wild animals every time you hang out. Turns out you're even bitchier in person, and after a cruel joke played on Oliver by you and Farleigh at the Henrys dinner, he decides to take a bit of power back. Not that it goes as intended... nor that it goes completely wrong.

Need to Know: She/Her. AFAB!Reader. Established FWB Brat!Reader/Brat Tamer!Farleigh

Warnings: PWP!! smut; fingering, oral (F receiving), dirty talk, lots of arguing, reader is very very bratty, demeaning talk, bondage & restraints, explicit discussions around safewords (it does happen a little bit into the action but before anything major), pet name used for the reader "princess"

A/N: 4730 words. okay turns out i can write pwp. i cut out like 1.5k of background and you get the gist of it in the summary. there will be a part 2 thats heavy on the smut, but this trio takes a while to set anything up because they can't stop arguing. hints of farleigh/oliver. this was a lot of fun but again i can't stress how long its been since ive written full, proper smut, so id really appreciate feedback. <3 unedited, i love you.

{ masterpost : 1/2 }

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Fucking Farleigh Start. Oliver feels the fury as it burns and bubbles inside of him, stalking quietly through the halls of Saltburn. There, at the end of the hall, Farleigh's bedroom door, quiet and unassuming, and right next to it, Oliver's target; your door. Farleigh isn't the only one in the house who can wrap people around his little finger; he isn't the only one in the house who can get the Princess to kneel.

Trying the handle, he finds it unlocked, and eases the old, wooden door open.

"Farleigh was right," upon hearing your voice, bright, amused, and very much awake in the dark, Oliver jumps, "you're an A-plus lurker, I didn't even hear you come in."

"Was a nasty thing you did to me tonight," Oliver tries to regain some of his composure, some of the ire he'd built up on the way here.

"So you've snuck into my room, I assume you assumed I was asleep, to- what, wake me up and berate me?" There's something smug and biting in your voice, something that fuels the fury coiling deep in his gut, "that doesn't sound like enough for someone like you, tricksie, little, pauper boy." When you start to move from where you've been sitting up in bed, crawling to the end to sit on your knees as the moonlight streaks through your window and finally paints you in sharp relief, he sees you're already nude.

But even your stunning body in the moonlight cannot compare to the look on your face, the sharp, hungry, mean amusement he's never seen a person wear so well.

"Go on then, shout," your eyes shine dangerously in the moonlight; "don't you want Farleigh to hear?" They might have been right. You might be the devil. Your smile gets wider, and Oliver can only watch, rather transfixed, as you start rolling your hips with purpose, "or do you want him to hear something else?" He hears, quietly at first, a soft tap, getting louder as you keep insistently thrusting against the air, against the mattress, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall behind it, the wall that you shared with Farleigh on the other side.

Then, all at once, you stopped. A loud, mean laugh is pulled from you as you pitch yourself back on the bed, kicking your legs out in front of you to hang off the edge, completely relaxed, completely exposed. You give a loud, amused sigh, looking up at the canopy of the four poster bed.

"God, you're such a little bitch, Oliver, Farleigh was so right," you snorted, "I was the one who actually saw you eating Venetia like your life depended on it, on the lawn of all places," you shook your head, "I don't know what you told Felix to get out of that one but I know what I saw," clicking your tongue, you raised your leg, pointing a foot at him, not even bothering to look at him, "now you won't even touch me in my own bedroom when I'm practically begging for it. I'm choosing to be offended about that; you've offended me, Oliver."

Slowly, your leg lowers, and you kick your heels idly against the end of the bed in the silence.

"Where do you get all your attitude from?" Oliver finally speaks, tone turning scornful as he approached you.

"The money," you fire back with ease, "which is why you always seem to have none." Then, in the furious silence that followed, you grinned sharply at the roof, still not bothering to look at him, "try harder."

When he touches your knee, his fingers gentle against your skin, you kick him hard in the thigh with your other foot -

"The fuck? Did you just kick me?"

"Yeah, and?" He can almost hear you rolling your eyes, "what did you think it was, the wind? Ghost of Grandma Catton?"

"Do you fuckin' want me or not?" He's still standing within kicking range, he learns too late. All the while you've never even looked at him, always looking at the ceiling, hands comfortably, casually behind your head. There's a smug grin on your lips now, something teasing and once more mean.

"Do you want me?" You respond, legs gliding open, an open invitation to your slick, moon-drenched cunt, "I thought you wanted to use me to get back at Farleigh," you said mockingly, finally looking up and meeting his deep, furious gaze. Propped up on your elbows, you give a grin that's all teeth, "wanted to show us who has the real power, that you can get us back for the stunt we pulled after dinner," you sat up further, intense, hungry amusement in your eyes that drew Oliver in to you, leaning in, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as you were almost nose to nose. Your voice lowers, gaze on his lips as your voice turns to almost a moan, "wanted to show Farleigh that you could take anything he thought was his; even me," and you start fake moaning, softly at first, but getting exponentially louder as you leaned back again, against the bed, arching and writhing from nothing, putting on a show that ended with you shouting - "Oliver's a fucking bitch!" At the top of your lungs, and cackling with glee.

Rage exploded within Oliver, and for a moment, overcome with a strange sense of betrayal at your demonstration, he smacks at your inner thigh with all the might he can muster. He can tell it stings, your laughter stops for just a moment, leg flinching up for just a second, but then you're laughing harder if possible.

"Your first mistake - of many - was letting her talk at all," Farleigh's voice from the door is frankly annoyed. You, however, gasp with delight, sitting directly up and looking at Farleigh with absolute glee.

"That's not his fault, I wasn't going to tell him," you pointed out, before looking down at your thighs, and Oliver's hands still on them, and the part of you that must have still stung from the slap, "why is your grip so soft?" You looked up at him with a derisive expression, and immediately Oliver's grip on you goes tight, nails digging into your skin; you're fucking laughing at him again, still, "awe, you're getting there -"

"Could you stop that already?" Oliver leans in, scowling at you. Eyebrows raising in mock surprise, you grinned with devilish intent.

"Stop what?"

"All that fuckin' talking you're doing."

"I don't know, can I -?" But then out of seemingly nowhere, Farleigh sits himself down at the end of the bed next to you, flush against your side. He's still in his crisp, white shirt, and black slacks, looking so put together next to your brash nudity. When his hand comes up to your jaw, barely two fingers beneath your chin to guide you, to have you looking him in the eyes, you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. Both he and Oliver can see how badly you want to laugh, to make any kind of sound, but you hold yourself back.

"Okay, your fucking highness," Farleigh's voice is low and dangerous, full of warning, and Oliver sees you take a sharp breath in, gaze fixed on Farleigh's, "you don't get shit from either of us if you can't keep your dirty mouth closed." Though you nod adamantly, you puff out your cheeks, amusement in your eyes as you're clearly desperate to say something; "what?" Farleigh frowns.

"I have really bad news for you about what I have to do to suck dick," you point out, trying to keep your composure. It's not working, giggles are escaping you at a rapid rate.

"You are testing nerves I didn't even know I had," Oliver admits, desperately trying to sink his nails into you as hard as he could. If he could draw blood, perhaps that would be enough penance for having to endure your infuriating company.

However, it's Farleigh who speaks, lip curling with frustration as he smacks Oliver's hand away from the thigh closest to him. With a solid grip on that thigh, he pulls you leg close to him, forcing your legs wider, exposing you further.

"Then do something about it," he practically orders, and something about the tone sparks a kind of indignation in his chest, "you need me to talk you through it?" He snaps. This, however, quickly turns smug and mean as Farleigh leans in, nose to nose with Oliver and his building frustration with them both; "you know how to eat pussy, right?"

"You should both be very careful what you wish for," Oliver's eyes flash with a dangerous confidence as he sank down on his knees between your legs. You, thrilled and delighted by how the situation was no unfolding, lay yourself back on the bed with contented laughter, hands coming to rest confidently behind your head once more.

Farleigh watches Oliver with intense scrutiny, and for reasons he's not quite sure of, Oliver meets his gaze, refuses to break eye contact. His hand moves first, no longer holding your left thigh, he digs his elbow into your soft inner thigh, bracing his arm against you, forcing your leg further open and keeping it that way, letting him comfortably rest his hand with his thumb on your clit.

"Smart boy," you hum appreciatively, shifting your hips back and forth a little as his thumb is rubbing circles against your clit, "knows where the start button is." He takes his thumb off of you, much to your confusion. His gaze is still locked with Farleigh's. "Fucking hell, are you tired already -?" You sat up on your elbows, scowling at him, but Oliver looks sharply to you.

"Weren't you listening to Farleigh, princess?" Oliver asks, and there's something so deliciously satisfying about the look of flustered surprise on your face in this moment. Beside you, Farleigh huffs a laugh to himself and stands, pulling off his tie. Oliver's full attention, however, is still trained on your. Slowly, as he speaks, he again begins to rub circles against your clit, teasing, never enough proper pressure to be satisfying.

"I -" you started, but he immediately stopped again; out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver sees Farleigh's approving nod. Something about this all has his blood rushing in his fucking ears. You press your lips together, giving him a now expectant look, as if here, I've done what you've asked.

You're so wet, so wanting, ready and waiting, right thigh inching closer, leg curling around him, heel pressing insistently into his back. God you look so fucking good, he wants nothing more than to eat you like a man starving, tasting every inch of you -

"Give me your belt," Farleigh interrupts, and Oliver pauses, mouth literally an inch from your cunt, looking up at Farleigh like he can't quite believe him right now.

"Farleigh!" You exclaim with utter frustration, right leg lashing out to kick him, but he grabs your ankle and holds it tightly. With his free hand he makes an expectant, grabby hand at Oliver.

"Belt, now please." He practically orders.

"Use your own belt, Farleigh," Oliver nods to the belt Farleigh had just tossed to the side of the room, and Farleigh gives him a thin, unamused smile.

"Mine's nicer, and I don't want your cum on it," he explained with a mean, humourless smile. Oliver sat back for a long, furious moment, undoing his belt. The minute his hands were off of you, you tried to whine, but Farleigh, now just in his boxers, sat further up the bed beside you.

"This is overkill, I'll be good," you pouted, twisting to lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him with as pleading eyes as you could manage.

"You're not even being good right now," he pointed out; "both your thighs are over Oliver's fucking shoulders, and you haven't gone thirty seconds without saying something," but clearly you're pleased and flustered at being called out. Farleigh says your name more insistently, and you try and play innocent before he practically orders, "get your fucking legs off of him!" Like he can't quite believe you're still trying these tricks, even though you both seem comfortable in this dynamic.

"Oliver~" Farleigh then practically sings like a warning, gaze turning much colder as it falls back on Oliver himself, "where are we with that belt?"

"What's it for anyways?" Oliver finally pulls his belt free, awkwardly half throwing it to Farleigh, who does actually thank him, before his attention is back on you, bare and warm and wet and - "princess," he says suddenly before Farleigh can even answer his initial question, looking up, and you make a noise of acknowledgement, "you want me to touch you like I mean it, then keep your legs spread like you actually fucking want it," voice going low and sharp, immediately you widen your legs as best you can.

"Oh, he's good," Farleigh says, surprisingly appreciatively, watching as Oliver makes a meal of you.

Finally, finally, Oliver's mouth is on you, tongue gliding playfully along your slit, his nose continually bumping his thumb as it continues to work your clit, firmer this time. You hips wriggle and roll with him, desperate for more, growing frustrated with his teasing lightness.

"The belt can be for several things," Farleigh began, matter-of-factly as he began to loop the belt through itself, focusing on his task at hand, "if she insists on closing her legs, I'm not above using both belts to make sure she keeps them open - this bedframe's especially good for that -" a hot spike of desire passes through Oliver all at once, picturing you bound and open and begging -

"Oh, don't joke about that Farleigh, come on, you know I love that -" you actually whimpered, but Oliver, still keeping in mind the earlier warning, once more stops entirely. You gasp, as if betrayed, before remembering for yourself, actually whining, "you guys fucking suck," you whimper petulantly. For a moment, Oliver wonders if he really aught to be here, if this strange, psychosexual encounter was really worth it.

"You're fucking loving this," Farleigh countered without a moment of hesitation, saying it with such confidence that it almost surprised Oliver, "you just hate that you can't shut the fuck up for any amount of time, and that Oliver isn't actually as much of a little bitch as you thought," clearing his throat, Farleigh cast an evaluative look, before trying to shrug it off nonchalantly, "as either of us thought, I guess."

A moment of quiet stillness passes, and Oliver looks to you, face scrunched up with embarrassment, as all of Farleigh's words apparently rang true.

"Are you hourly, Oliver?" Farleigh then scowls, much to Oliver's confusion. Farleigh looks at him like he's a downright idiot, "the princess is actually being quiet, which means..." he trailed off pointedly. Oliver sat back on his heels, frowning at Farleigh for a long moment, his hands coming to rest on your knees. You, yet again growing incredibly unsatisfied, groaned into your hands.

"Not if you're gonna talk to me like that," Oliver takes a deep breath, sitting tall, gaze unflinching as he meets Farleigh's sneering gaze.

"Then fuck off, Little Orphan Ollie, we don't need you," he spits, "you should really feel lucky that you even got this far -"

"You're all talk, Farleigh," Oliver, with a newfound confidence, and his hands on you, rubbing small, gentle circles against your inner thighs with his thumbs. Farleigh's eyes narrow, but Oliver's smile turns knowing, "I know you can throw her around, and tie her up, and give her orders, clearly," he tips his head ever so slightly to the side, gaze slipping to you, to where you've still got your face covered by your hands, "but we both know no-one can speak for her, but her."

The faint, frustrated whimpering that had been escaping you this entire time goes dead silent. Oliver feels the way you go very still. Farleigh, realising what Oliver meant, also turned to look at you properly.

"'s your bedroom, princess," Oliver leans in, presses a kiss to your inner thigh, murmuring softly against your skin, "what do you think?"

"I think you're edging each other with psychosexual, power-play, bullshit-banter that's doing fucking nothing for me," you snap behind your hands, "and I'm gonna start kicking people again very soon," you warned. Farleigh rolled his eyes.

"Sit up," he sighed.

"No."

"Make a choice," Oliver told you, tone firmer this time.

"Also no." Your voice was sounding particularly petulant, and you even brought your knees together, closing yourself off in front of Oliver. After a long, vaguely irate silence, Farleigh takes a deep breath.

"Is something wrong? Are we at a yellow light? Red light?" He asks, tone far gentler, he leans over, fingers gentle against your hairline by your fingertips.

"Light... colours?" Oliver asks with genuine confusion. Farleigh is far less patient when he turns on Oliver, like he's frustrated to even be explaining this.

"Like a traffic light; instead of a safety word like pineapple, we have green - go, yellow - slow down, red - stop," said like he wanted to include duh, obviously on the end, but refrained, turning back to you.

"And... they're for her?" Intrigued and surprisingly endeared by the concept, Oliver leans forward with a little smile, resting his chin on one of your knees, looking between yourself and Farleigh. He watches you sigh, even with your hands over your face.

"How do you not know how safe words work? What kind of sex have you been having?" Farleigh's judgemental tone hits Oliver square in the chest, but before he can even answer, you finally sit up, expression wide and overwhelmed with frustration.

"Farleigh look at him; he's like if they made repression a person! He's been having the most boring, vanilla sex known to man - if any - and getting off in his spare time to things that would make God cry. Look him in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong -" Farleigh's gaze flicked to Oliver, who suddenly felt himself begin to flush scarlet, and had to sit back again, frowning at his hands. There was something about the shame at being so concisely called out that was... thrilling. Something about how clearly you could see through him, through his persona to the raw want at his very core, it was freeing. You sat up further, with purpose, grabbing Oliver's chin so roughly it shocked him, forcing him to look in your eyes for a long moment.

"You came in here with purpose thinking I was asleep; creepy, hot, deranged; I'm into it," you told him sternly, "I literally could not care less about you otherwise, you're nothing to me the rest of the time. You came here to put me in my place, I don't want you here if you can't do that." Fucking hell, Oliver can feel his heartbeat racing as you shove his face away, your expression almost bordering on disgust.

"So you're..." Farleigh, as if frustrated by this little tirade you saw fit to go on, was unimpressed as he once more checked in.

"Green light, obviously," you threw your hands into the air in exasperation, "it's like you've never met me before -" but before you can slump back against the bed like you so clearly wanted to, Farleigh catches you, shifts behind you to prop you up.

"You're a brat," Oliver says, finally finding the words for the dynamic, and rather charmed by it all. Still, Farleigh has to get a word in edgewise.

"How long 'd it take you to figure that out?" He muttered sarcastically, doing something behind your back while you made a show of struggling and wiggling, refusing to keep your left arm with whatever he was doing.

"So," Oliver clarified, testing out the code, "green light?" You grinned at him, giving a pleased nod. Farleigh, finally having caught your left hand seemingly for good, reiterates the statement distractedly. Then, with a sense of triumph and relief, he pulls the belt, and his makeshift handcuffs, tight.

"Why are you still dressed?" You ask Oliver sharply. You may have had a point, but the game was back on. With your hands secured, Farleigh sat back behind you on the bed, pulling you flush to him, arms secured and pressed between the two of you that was just edging on uncomfortable.

"Why are you still talking?" He mutters into your ear, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand coming to wrap over your mouth, while his other curled around your middle, pulling your legs apart, wasting no time in dipping two long, elegant fingers into you. Your eyes light up, gasping against his hand as the two of you watch with lust in your eyes as Oliver begins to undress.

"The belt," Farleigh's voice has that lazy kind of smugness that Oliver usually hated, but now kind of makes his head fuzzy and kind of like he wants to sink his teeth into him, "is to keep the princess in her place, because someone," he says pointedly, not that you seem to notice; your eyes are closed, and Farleigh's thumb is on your clit while the fingers he has inside of you curl lovingly into your sweet spot, "manages to escape every pair of padded handcuffs either of us have ever bought," he explains, turning his attention back to Oliver, "and she complains about metal handcuffs, and zip ties, has undone every rope knot I've ever tied, and ruined every single tie I've ever tried to tie her up with."

"I bought you new ones," your voice is faint, half a moan muffled behind Farleigh's hand, and Oliver, still unsure of how to respond to any of that, finally turns back to the two of you on the bed. There's something desperate about the way you're arching against Farleigh's firm hold on you, legs having fallen open as your hips rolled in time with his fingers, lewd and needy. But Farleigh's eyes are only on Oliver, watching him with hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide, gaze roaming over Oliver's physique.

At the sound of your voice, Farleigh's gaze meets Oliver's his smile widening just a touch before he stops entirely. A desperate keening is pulled from you, hips shifting for friction, for anything, as Farleigh rests his hand on your thigh, fingers slick, practically dripping with you.

"No, I'll be good," you whimper, eyes fluttering, half closed, "I'll be -" you were already breathing heavy, "so so good."

"Hear that?" Farleigh murmurs with a vindictive little smile, hand uncovering your mouth, moving to hold your chin, your mouth falling open in a moan as his nails scratch up your thighs. Oliver advances on you both, entranced by the sight of you both, desperate to have a taste, to play along.

"Think she even knows how to be good?" Oliver teases, once more between your thighs. Still, instead of giving you the same kind of proper relief that Farleigh had been offering, he starts out gentle once more.

"Oliver, you're so cruel," you whimper. Farleigh's hand moves from your jaw to wrap around your middle, holding you secure, while the hand that had sat on your thigh moves to your open mouth, Oliver watches, rapt, as he slides both slick digits past your lips, but it shuts you up well enough, lips closing on his fingers as you diligently lap up your own taste from him.

"See, can't trust a word she says," Farleigh purrs. You bite gently on his fingers as you moan, Oliver finally deciding to do more than just tease you. Oliver's fingers are shorter than Farleigh's, but damn if they can't still hit the same high notes. Curling and pressing in a steady rhythm, he alternates dipping his tongue in as much as he can, and circling your clit. Farleigh's hand has moved from your mouth, spit slicked fingers pinching at your nipples, lightly dragging his nails across your skin, while he's started rolling his hips against your back, cock unbearably hard and still confined to his boxers, pressed against you.

You're whimpering and moaning in his ear, straining against your handcuffs, arching, writhing, but Oliver's holding your thighs still and secure and Farleigh is captivated by how enthusiastically he's going down on you, how its shining on his cheeks, his nose - he reaches out, cards his fingers through Oliver's hair. Oliver looks up through his lashes, a fucking gorgeous sight that you're too lost to appreciate. Just for Farleigh.

God he could say something snide, something about sloppy seconds or something about this being the most expensive meal he'll ever have, but he doesn't. He gives a sly, approving smile, and his grip on Oliver's hair tightens.

"Teeth and tongue," he tells Oliver quietly. Oliver doesn't seem to get it at first, but you choke out a whine, arching further into Farleigh, tipping your head against his.

"That's cheating," you gasped, but Farleigh kept running his fingers through Oliver's hair, whose mouth had never left your cunt, nor his eyes Farleigh's face, "you're helping him cheat; you want me to cum this early?"

"You know what's cheating?" Farleigh once more grabbed your chin, angling your head so you could watch Oliver working hard to get you off, "look at him," Farleigh murmurs in your ear, "eyes open, on his," the commanding tone was hard to refuse, and your eyes fluttered open; the fucking sight of him, a mess between your legs, Farleigh's hand in his hair, was almost enough to send you over the edge, "tell him what I mean."

"Gentle- uh, gentle teeth on me- on my-" you desperately tried to string two words together as Oliver began to get more of an idea. Farleigh's hand on his head becoming more insistent, firmer, nose pressed firm against your skin when he finally took the hint, focusing on your clit, sucking and lapping at it, teeth gently teasing as you completely lost the ability to speak. The rhythm of his fingers was consistent and firm throughout it all, pressing just right -

"Keep your fucking eyes on him," Farleigh ordered, almost snarling it into your ear, "I want you to watch Oliver Quick make you cum." But Oliver had eyes only for him, feeling you clench around his fingers, thighs pressing desperately against his shoulder and the hand that had kept them apart, he could feel Farleigh's nails on his scalp and see the heady, smug pride in his eyes.

As you start to come down, breathing hard and heavy and leaning all your weight against Farleigh, you giggle with out of breath contentment.

"Princess's got not manners," Oliver shook his head with an air of disappointment, and Farleigh smirked, brushing some hair from Oliver's forehead before he reached up and tapped your cheek gently.

"Say thank you, Oliver."

"Thank you, Oliver," you grinned, tone surprisingly sincere, as Oliver crawled up onto the bed beside you both. But there's something dark and hungry in his eyes as he watched you both; reaching out, he presses the fingers against Farleigh's lips, your cum coating them like syrup. Farleigh is more than happy to lick them clean, tongue dancing lewdly around Oliver's digits, all kinds of inuendo and promise in his eyes.

Then, Oliver's attention turns on you something dark, hungry, almost deranged in his eyes. He takes your face in hand.

"And you, princess," he says derisively, not even respecting you enough to look you in the eyes in this moment, "this is not your place that I am putting you in," god it almost sounds like a threat, but you're already squirming with want and anticipation, "but we'll get there," he squeezes your cheeks and your mouth opens on command, tongue as pink and wet and desperate as your cunt had been. He spits in your mouth, sudden sneer curling his lip, blue eyes ice cold and demeaning; "and it's thank you, Oliver Quick."

You feel fucking filthy, can taste yourself in his spit.

You want him to do it again.

"Thank you, Oliver Quick."

{ part two here }

[weebsinstash]

Hi I’ve been watching Hazbin Hotel and I found your blog which is amazing by the way , and I was wondering what are your thoughts on yandere Alastor ?

Thanks babe! ^^ so i was discussing this with someone recently and, to avoid doing that thing where I have too any concepts on the same post, I'm going to stick with a specific idea I've had of him recently which I will call "canon accurate yandere Alastor"

imma be honest and say this version would fucking suck depending on your preferences because he

-doesn't love you romantically and doesn't let YOU date

-doesn't wanna fuck you either AND DOESN'T LET YOU FUCK ANYONE ELSE EITHER

-probably does not consider you an equal by any means, like he considers you a good friend and you're charming and lovely and whatever, but he sees you like.... you'd be puking into a trashcan and he's the one holding your hair back, "now see my dear, this is why you shouldn't go out drinking without a proper escort~" like there's a vague layer of condescension and there's a huge massive power balance and experience balance between you two

Like. He's. He's kind of condescendingly cunty to you, he's vaguely looking at you with the energy of "MacKenzie oh my gosh MacKenzie you're so drunk, you're wasted, oh my god let me drive you home, no girl I'm taking your keys, you're too--" like do you get what I mean? He's a traditional gentleman and he comes along and uh, he thinks he sees this raw potential and charm inside of you that he thinks is being wasted by your modern lifestyle which can literally include

- your diet

-your tech use or what you use from day to day

- how you dress

-how you TALK

-how you spend your time

-who you hang out with

Just picture he meets you, you catch his eye, maybe you're at the hotel, and he's entertained by your sarcastic witty replies to his antics that maybe even get a chuckle out of him. You're a spitfire and he likes that!

.... and then the next time he sees you you're like vaping weed from a pen, looking at him with half lidded eyes, playing a game on your phone, too scattered to fully hold a conversation with him, to focus, to be as entertaining to him as before, and he's grinding the teeth in his smile, "oh no, this won't do at all", especially when he sees negative affects such maybe you're watching things he doesn't approve of or you're being harassed idk

I feel like since Alastor canonically drinks and is quite a heavyweight apparently, he wouldn't mind his darling drinking, but he would definitely control how much after a while. If you get too wasted in front of him too many times, he'll completely cut you off. Folks are you aware that getting too drunk can cause an alcohol induced panic attack that can literally take away your ability to move your hands and arms and make your mouth numb. I found this out recently :) whoops. And I feel like Alastor sees that shit and you'd have to EARN HIS TRUST for him to let you drink again and uh, I don't think that's possible

You're kind of like a bestie but you're also like a toy he's playing with and he doesn't like to share. He'll drag you away from doing other things with other people, especially if he doesn't approve of what you're doing and or with whom. He basically views you dating other people as lowering yourself to people who are beneath you and would only want you to give yourself to someone who deserves you, and he doesn't think ANYONE deserves you except him, and he DOESNT LIKE YOU THAT WAY so the man is just like FORCING CELIBACY ON YOU. Like have you ever seen videos of people taking their domesticated lovely groomed pets outdoors and like a stray or even wild animal version of it comes along to. Hump. And the owner is freaking out, "get the fuck AWAY I don't know where you've been" or at least Should? THAT'S Alastor watching 'other people trying to predate upon you' aka YOU trying to get laid or date

You'll be cooking something and he'll come up and try some without asking, "Hah! This is terrible!" and either watch you so he can tell you what he thinks you did wrong once the dish is finished or he takes over and asserts that he wants to show you to do it "the proper way!" and if you're female he potentially inserts a comment about how as a lovely lady you should know your way around a kitchen (in like a positive "I'll show you so you can know for yourself" way but like the underlying misogyny is there lol)

He'll take you out drinking and dancing but don't you dare let him catch you throwing it back or being mildly sexual, or he'll immediately tell you you've had too much to drink and take you home and you two spend the rest of the night like drinking tea listening to the radio, reading books, or watching old timey TV.

Lastly... I can absolutely see Alastor making some kind of deal with his darling for their soul. He CAN do that (and I think technically anyone in Hell can deal with souls, it's apparently part of the becoming an Overlord process). But I can just see him taking his darling's soul in exchange for anything, it might be really small, it might be really important, but he sees it as safeguarding your beautiful lovely little soul from anyone else who might take it. It truly is like THE HIGHEST FORM OF OWNING YOU, CONTROLLING YOU. It's all according to whatever is in the deal, but I'm sure there's other basic caveats you get... like him being able to summon you at will if you agree to it so he's randomly yanking you away from other people or tracking you when he doesn't know when you are.... or restraining you so you stop running away from him and running out on the town to act so... vulgar

[nokkomo]

DRAGONS RISING SPOILERS and tap for gud quality :,>

.

I know that everyone has finished s1 p2, but I put the warning just in case

.

"So... Let me get this right. You're the legendary Green Ninja, leader of a group of elite fighters with god-tier powers, son of the evil itself, nephew and student of a thousands years old man, grandson of the guy that created our world and many more, and now, one of the seven dragons source decided to give you a portion of its powers making you so strong that you were able to stabilize reality itself?!

"Hum... Yeah, pretty much. Why do you ask?..."

There's no way that they didn't have this conversation the next day after they saved the world (If you don't know what is around Lloyd's face, that's cereal and his smol beard :])

I hope that I described the lore correctly cuz MY GOD, ANIME PROTAGONISTS LOOK LIKE WEAK FUCKS ASIDE LLOYD'S LORE AND POWERS AND ITS KINDA HARD TO GET IT RIGHT FROM MEMORY

Smol hc for Sora: Her cat ears are robotic, and their movement depends on Sora's expression/mod

[dean-winchesters-clit]

Gods, can I gush about the CGI in the Percy Jackson show for just a minute??

All of it is so fucking good!

The work was gone by ILM or Industrial Light and Magic, who are an incredible effects house and also one of the oldest effects houses there is. ILM was founded in the 1970s by George fucking Lucas to make the effects for the original Star Wars trilogy. They are the reason the original Jurassic Park had CGI in the first place! They worked with Jim Henson on The Dark Crystal and Tobe Hooper on Poltergeist, which has sone crazy awesome effects if you've never seen it. A part of ILM broke off in the 1990s and became fucking PIXAR!!

And Percy Jackson has had just the best looking effects I've seen in a long time. The creature work alone is worth so many awards. The minotaur was amazing.

And the illusion of Chiron is never broken, it's just seamless and perfect.

And don't get me started on Medusa's snakes. They're PERFECT. THEY ACT LIKE REAL SNAKES!!!

And the chimera was beautiful. I loved the decision to give it a cobra's frill.

Also, water is a notoriously difficult effect to do and all the water looks amazing in this show. I bet they pulled some people from the Avatar sequel to help with it.

And Grover's legs never look bad. They're always perfect. I love the decision to keep them exposed the whole time, it adds to the magical feeling of the world while also showcasing how powerful the Mist really is.

And one of my favorite effects HAS to be the way Mrs. Dodds' coat turned into her wings. I saw that and had an out of body experience.

But this most recent episode just blew me away. Specifically with this (these next gifs are by @stevenrogered) :

So, if you didn't know, tracking an effect onto someone's body is incredibly difficult. It's so difficult that CGI artists will often replace someone's body with a 3D model in order to make it easier. That could be what happens here in part, but they can't fake Walker's face.

Props to Walker for sitting as still as humanly possible during this incredibly emotional scene. Him sitting still helps make the tracking of the effect easier since the artists don't have to adjust the effect every frame to account for the slightest movements. Which brings me to the face.

It is so hard to animate human faces and not fall into the uncanny valley, and yes this effect applies to that. Look at the way the gold conforms to the shape of his mouth as he speaks. Look at how it follows the movement of his chin, his cheeks. It's PERFECT. This is an incredibly impressive effect and I wanna just worship whichever overworked and underpaid VFX artist spent hours of their life working on it.

Okay, that's all, rants over, everyone go home!

[thatdeadaquarius]

Hello there, friend I'm here for fluff

OK, this has been on my mind for a while

But like

The reader is just becoming the biggest parent to the Benny's adventure team kids

And the wolfs

We are like a parent of like 27

Knitting and making food brushing razors hair(let's be for real, you would hear a crunch when you brush it)

I'm not gonna lie

Do these kids know what spices are?

Cuz when I think about it

Razor hasn't had shit so he's has the least tolerance for spice

He would probably cry if you feed him a pepper

Bennett has tried spicy food but does go well with it

And not completely sure if fischl has had a spicy food before

But what flavor does mondstadt add to their food??

These kids need the damn flavors

AHDHAKALL FERAL ANIMAL AQUARIUS- ANOTHER PLATONIC ASK AAHHHHGGGGDJJSFHSAK!!!!!

AND ITS YOU!! ITS- ITS- ONE OF THE WRITING RULERS OF SAGAU (FOR ME AT LEAST) <3 !!!!!!!!

You cooking in genshin all anime studio ghibli style looking like food from god (literally): ⬆️

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Benny’s Adventure Team! (Bennett, Fischl, Razor), Diluc, mentions of other Mond characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

^^ The posts being referenced in ask, (OG Razor ask) (Benny + Razor) and a more direct sequel, a part 2? a part 4 atp?? of this post (Imposter/Not Dark AU + Razor + Diluc) ^^

OMFG

ALRIGHT LISTEN UP BITCHES

SINCE UR IN TEYVAT

YOU GONNA COOK LIKE TEYVAT

AS IN-

SHIT BE SUPER EASY TO COOK, AND MASS MAKE DEPENDING ON COMPLEXITY OF DISH

(So, like Zhongli's special Bamboo Shoot Soup is like getting made... once a year if you read the little desc. for that dish 💀)

AND THEYRE ALL LIKE-

ANIME GORGEOUS FOODS ✨️❤️‍🔥

OKAY SO

PROMO TIME-

U GUYS HAVE TO WATCH THE ANIME "CAMPFIRE COOKING IN ANOTHER WORLD"

Bc that's mostly where this inspo gonna come from to both be realistic cooking + best parts of video game cooking

A guy gets isekai’d and instead of hero powers he just gets the skill of "online grocery shopping" LMAO

and ofc he gets insta gifted whatever he orders and starts making dishes and adding spices and regular stuff you know. like soy sauce.

but the best part is the food in that world is like British medieval soup shit

like barely salted, no spices definitely, no sauces, its barren

so he ends up attracting all kinds of interest that want to eat his cooking ofc

And it gives buffs too!

dw i didnt spoil anything u don't learn in the first episode, but that's just to say that's exactly whats happening here

u DO have to manually collect more ingredients but its so worth it, also u can just buy in bulk or put a commission thru the adventurer guild

tbhhh now that i say that, that could be how u end up drawing in Benny’s Adventure Team even more, bc they just take all ur quests for collecting ingredients around Mond!!

(u have to actively sneak behind their back and whisper to Katheryne that you want to put in other food quests in other guilds tho, silly kids will absolutely go running around Liyue and crazy shit just to have an adventure and do smth for you + eat ur banger food lol)

omfg the first time u barbecue smth???

the wolves, Razor, and Andrius??? Go feral.

Fischl and Benny who were already on their way to u guys to hang out again start booking it thru the woods, dodging hilichurl camps (thatve since settled down and been v peaceful to the wolves + anyone in the woods of Wolvendom after u started living there)

they knowww ur cookin smth fucking amazing

(and u even have some hilichurls and mitachurl that wander close to Andrius’ edge of the woods to shyly beg for scraps,, u give them a portion)

Razor was actually lookin at u like u hung the stars just for him when u gave him a homemade barbecue sauce to put on his food

(u acc may have done that to Teyvatians according to Andrius + the stories u overheard from Springvale…)

ok but the amount of begging u get for desserts like-

No, Razor u cannot have chocolate cake/cupcakes after every meal, u need to take care of ur teeth

(u use ur collection of mora-monster-donations for comms for more ingredients and living supplies like fabric + furniture, u cant afford dental on top of that for ur boy)

Fischl dutifully declares you the “best chef in the kingdom” and writes down all ur recipes (u have them auto-stored in ur settings obv but it cant hurt to have a physical copy, and they look so happy doing it, u don't have the heart to tell them its not necessary-)

Benny insists on both giving u extra ingredients when he takes ur commissions, and giving u handmade trinkets or weapons for the meals!!

No!! He will not take “im good” for an answer!! ur sharing ur home-cave with him, taking care of his best friend Razor, and now feeding him food better than Liuli Pavilion!!! There’s no way he can just take all that and give nothing back!!!!

and theyre not the only ones getting some food tbh

when the knights begin patroling near Wolvendom and slowly all of Mondstadt to search for their “All God”, u break up the beginnings of a fight between 2 confused knights and the now peaceful hilichurl camp at the edge of Wolvendom

U offer some snacks u were going to give Benny’s Adventure Team when they got back (u made little triangle sandwiches, rice balls, etc. finger foods, and u made plenty extra bc u kno their teenage appetites lol)

the knights and hilichurls nearly cried with appreciation, which made for a hilarious sight when the teens actually showed up lmao

ur wearing ur cloak, bc u dont wanna take on that whole “creator of worlds” title just yet, and the kids helped verify u werent anyone suspicious (Benny + Fischl keep ur godly secret, theyre the best like that 🥰)

the knights just swing by for snacks occasionally (they also either pay u in trade or with mora, theyre not bullies)

another person who gets flavored food privileges is the lazy librarian witch herself

u also sometimes pick Razor up from Lisa’s tutoring and bring “the best tea and tea snacks in the world” along with to share with Lisa and him

(she is also fully aware after awhile of meeting u of what u are, and fully believes this is why the food must be enchanted to be so good, but u dont want to be treated super reverently she can tell, so she keeps ur secret too and is just extra flirty when u come by lol)

(Razor refuses to let his pare- Lupical move out of ur cozy cave to the library, so he sometimes hauls u away when Lisa flirts too much LMAO)

…and the moment you've been waiting for.

Yes, Diluc got to try ur food that night he was searching Wolvendom for signs of the god of Teyvat

tbh Diluc was half-convinced that shit was a fever dream.

a bunch of sleepy wolves, a coffee table in the stone colosseum, a giant spirit wolf licking a big plate clean, the wolf-kid glaring at him, and you.

you with gold eyes, staring right thru his soul, like you already know everything there is to know about him, (like the way Kaeya looked at him that night),

like he doesnt even have to introduce himself

and he doesnt, u just lightly smack Razor’s hands until he gets rid of his claymore w/a pout, since Diluc had long since dropped his,

and grab a plate, piling on what leftovers u could, and turn back around from the coffee table to smile at him, patting the cushion-seat beside u for him to join

The giant glowing wolf licks his lips and watches him, the wolf-kid’s creepily watches him, and you, with eyes gold in teh light of a simmering bonfire just past the table, watch him

he just sits down and begins to eat.

its the best food he’s ever had, its his dad’s favorite dish, but not realistically, but the way memory embellishes a dish so much it can never be tasted again, except its right here. in front of him. u pour some wolfhook juice for him, and offer him a napkin to wipe his mouth and eyes

Diluc visits often after that, obviously.

u give him snacks too, and when he lets the staff try some, Adeline will not stop harassing him abt gettin ur recipes/ingredeints so u get him to pay Fischl to get a copy of their recipe book :)

including blank pages for future entries, and Fischl is literally glowing with happiness, would not stop monologuing abt ur food for weeks (send help Oz wants some peace and quiet sometimes)

Oh Diluc absolutely told the Favonius knights he found you. But he’s not saying where LMAO

Jean is actually begging him, Diluc ik u hate the knights but this is an international investigation-

this is the closest Diluc has ever gotten to getting under Venti’s skin.

when he told him this at Angel’s while bartending, he just casually ofc said this, just his smug little smirk, and the anemo god cracked a glass and everything- esp when he said he tried ur cooking??

he's gotta start looking over his shoulder in the city bc not only is Venti stalking him, the entirety of Mondstadt’s citizens are glaring at him in envy everywhere he goes LMAOO

(Venti now has a bar glass or too on his tab to pay off as well)

mans is literally paying u in weapon/artifact materials/mora to make him lunch one day and Venti nearly lunges over the counter

(Diluc purposefully ate it in front of him 💀)

ur food is the ultimate, “u could make a religion out of this!” /ref

like Diluc fully gives u offerings of ingredients he can pay for shipping from other countries + along with regular materials after grinding in domains

does the rest of Mondstadt + the world find out where u are?

only if Diluc lets them tbh. LMFAO

☆

bk trashfire my beloved <3 love ur ideas and stuff, goes without even saying im so sorry i took actually forever to respond :’(

hope u have a great weekend and i did this little side story justice for you

Safe Travels BK Trashfire,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡my beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[confiscatedpeaches]

William Afton Finds the Reader's Dirty Diary, and it's full of fantasies about him.

Minors DNI, Reader is assumed to be 18+. I tried to keep the reader gender neutral, but honestly I assumed them to be afab.

TW: Use of word "daddy" in a sexual context, breeding, smut, power imbalance, humiliation.

Life can be stressful sometimes. We all need some kind of escape, whether it be videogames, tv, or even knitting. Your escape just so happens to be a filthy little diary you keep in your bag at all times. And lately, that little guy has been full of dirty, nasty, no good fantasies about your latest crush (and boss) William Afton.

Honestly, you've always had a thing for older men. Once you stepped into his office for an interview you were hooked. You couldn't help but stare as his hands fiddled and played with his pens while he talked. You made a joke about the rainy weather you were having, and he actually laughed. God, what a laugh this man had. Infectious and giggly for someone his age. When he spoke you about melted on the spot. His accent wrapping itself around your name like a comfy sweater or delicate lingerie, taunting you with it's flourishes.

Poor thing, you were so nervous and flushed. You actually looked shocked when he offered you the job. Mouth hanging open (an invitation, really), eyes wide; you looked like a frightened little prey animal. A rabbit, even.

It started out small, just little urges and thoughts hastily written down. What it'd be like to kiss him, hold his hands, touch his hair, etc. Eventually these thoughts became much more... intimate.

--------

Monday: God, every time I step into his office for a chat I imagine him bending me over that desk of his and breeding me. I want to feel his cock balls deep inside of me. I want him to hold me down and break my back. Like, fuck me already Daddy please! Ugghhh! --------

Tuesday: Fuck, he's so hot. I heard him swear in frustration under his breath while fixing foxy. The thought of milking him dry with my tongue is intoxicating. I touched myself in the bathroom while thinking of him. Damn it, I'm so wet now. I want to swallow his cum so bad. He's so. fucking. hot. --------

Wednesday: Mr. Afton, if only you knew how bad I want you. Touching myself to you late at night, cumming while crying out your name. I want you to devour me. Let me be your little slut. I'd be so good for you Daddy if only you'd let me. Please like me back. I want him. I want him so bad.

--------

On and on, filling pages upon pages full of smut. Mentally letting him cuddle, kiss, fuck, and squeeze you endlessly. Of course, you knew he would never feel the same way about you. You were just a young little wage worker. You were nothing more than a typical employee. He was polite and kind to you, but never overly so. Sometimes it seemed like he was flirting, but honestly you chalked that up to you projecting your feelings onto him.

Earlier this morning for example, he called you into his office. He assured you that you weren't in any trouble, he just wanted to check up on you. You seemed a little of out it lately and he wanted to make sure you were okay. He even poured you a cup of coffee. He was such a nice older man, acting almost like a caring father figure. (So what, you have daddy issues, don't we all.) You wished he could be more than that, but you accepted this would have to do for now.

Before letting you return to work, he placed his hand on your shoulder and looked down into your eyes.

"I really like you, y/n. You're a good, loyal worker, and I deeply respect that."

You beamed up at him with a stupid smile on your face. Mr. Afton? Liking and respecting you? Dear god, you must have died and gone to heaven. The heat from his hand sunk down into your core. You imagined his fingers digging deep into your skin, holding you down. You imagined his tongue caressing your neck, lips sucking hungrily at your flesh, his chest pressed against you. Hot blood rushed to your cheeks engulfing your face. He hummed slightly at this before lifting his hand. The spot on your shoulder feeling empty and void at his absence.

"I should really be getting back to work." You stammer, before quickly grabbing your things and fleeing the suddenly humid and intimate office.

-----

About twenty minutes pass before you regain composure. The morning crowd passes by and things begin to slow into their regular routine. Still wet and horny from the crumb of attention he fed you, you rummaged through your bag for your diary, desperate to write down your latest fantasy. Strangely, it's not in it's usual pocket. It's not in the bigger pocket either. In fact, it doesn't appear to be in your bag at all.

No. No, no, no. There is no way you lost that diary. The filthy, disgusting, and embarrassing diary has managed to escape the confines of your bag and is now roaming about the pizzeria.

Panicked, you check the floor behind the counter. Nothing. You check the backrooms. Also, nothing. The kitchen: nothing. The bathrooms: nothing. After systematically checking every room in the entire god damn building you realize you left one room unchecked: Mr. Afton's office.

This cannot be happening.

Even if it is in his office, you made sure to put in bold letters "PROPERTY OF Y/N. PLEASE DO NOT READ" on the front. Everything is going to be okay, it's probably just sitting on his desk waiting for you to come looking for it.

With your heart in your throat, you knock on his office door.

"Who is it?" He asks from inside.

"Y/N." You respond.

"Oh, come in then."

Ah good, so he hasn't read it yet. You open the door.

Sitting with his feet up and crossed on his desk, with one hand rubbing at his croch, he sat. With his other hand, he held up your dirty little diary; holding it wide open. His face was obscured by the book, but he appeared to be deep into it's pages.

"Nice little diary you have here doll."

He tilts his head, revealing a wide and wicked grin.

"Aren't you curious about the real thing?"

You freeze. Unsure if you should respond, or run away and never come back. The room suddenly becomes hot and oppressive. Your chest tightens.

"Mr. Afton! It's not what you think! Please, give it back!"

He laughs.

"I think it is exactly what I think it is love. Got the hots for your boss, have you?"

"I... please... Please don't be angry."

"Oh I'm the opposite of angry love. Be a dear and shut the door behind you. We need to have a little 'chat'."

Swallowing hard, you click the door shut behind you. You find yourself alone with your boss and your filthy diary. He beckons you over. You obey without hesitation, mentally preparing yourself for the worst firing you'll ever experience. He pulls his legs from his desk before standing up from his chair. He completely towers over you. You realize you've never been this close to him before.

"Explain yourself. How exactly, is this not what I think it is?" He teases.

You look away, unable to meet his gaze. Looking down at the floor, you speak in a voice not much louder than a whisper.

"I... I... it's not... it's fiction... I didn't mean anything by it. I... don't mean what is written in there... it's not-"

"Well, it says here" He lifts up the journal and flips back a couple pages.

With absolute glee, he continues: "Ah yes, 'He is so attractive. Mr. Afton, please rail me and pound my tight little hole until I beg to cum. Fill me up and make me yours. Please Daddy, I need this. Let me be your little whore.'"

Shame fills your veins. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. He actually read it. Every thought, every fantasy you've ever had about him was written in that diary. Now he knew them all.

"...please... let me go..."

He leans in close, his hot breath and lips grazing against your ear.

"No, I think it's too late for that dear."

One of his hands trails up your side and around your waist. The other teases your collar and travels down to your stomach.

"You know... I would love to fulfil each and every one of those filthy little fantasies." He says as his hand tugs the button free from your jeans.

"You just have to let me... you will let me, won't you?"

He kisses at your neck.

"Yes... please.." You coo into his ear.

In a flash, he lifts you up and sets you on his desk. His hand guiding you to lay back on the dark oak wood. Papers, pens, and trinkets fall to the floor. You look up at him and watch as he strips off your bottoms. He carelessly tosses them aside, his hands returning to part your legs. He looks down at your wet sex and bites his bottom lip. His eyes are full of desire, he looks like a starving man who has just found his next meal. A meal that has been perfectly dressed and prepared for him and him alone.

He pulls down his pants to reveal his fully erect cock. The tip red and glistening with precum. His veiny hands wrap around his shaft. He teases your opening with his tip, before giving it a good few pumps.

"Already so wet for me, but not wet enough."

His masculine hand reaches down as he slides in a finger. Curling up inside of you, he begins pumping your sweet spot. You moan and writhe under him. Just when you though it couldn't get anymore intense, he slips in another finger. He greedily tugs and pulls inside of you. Realizing how loud you're becoming, you cover your mouth. His free hand pulls your arm away.

"No, no no bunny. Let me hear you. Say my name"

"Will.. William Afton.. mmmphhhh..."

"Good bunny. Keep crying for me, begging for me."

Your body begins to shake. Your moans becoming louder and harder to understand as a mounting pressure builds within you.

"Williammm... Aft..ahhh..."

Hot sticky fluids gush out of you, covering his hand and dripping down your thighs. His hand pulls away, only to be replaced by the head of his cock. Slowly, he pushes himself into you. A guttural sound escapes him. He fills you up all the way until you feel his sack pressing against your hips hard.

Rhythmically, he thrusts into you. Soon his office is full of the wet sound of him slapping against you. His hands grab and dig into the fleshy sides of your hips. Leaning over you, he finds an angle to reach even further inside. His lips find yours, tongue welcoming itself into your mouth.

He moves faster and faster, like an animal desperate to reproduce. Desperate to breed you. You gasp for air.

"Mmm... cum inside of me please.... Daddy... ah..." You beg.

"Mgh... oh... don't worry angel.. I will..."

Your insides twist and coil, becoming hotter and tighter with each thrust. You arch your back, cumming on his cock. Unable to contain himself any longer, he shoots thick ropes deep into your guts.

You both lay there, panting and exhausted. Wrapped up in each other's embrace.

"Bloody hell... if only you knew how long I wanted this... bet you're glad I found that journal eh?" He laughs.

This was so much better than those fantasies. Much better.

[whokilledjared]

the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself. (& takes on social media)

Hi.

I'm lonely.

The moment I got "two weeks off school" in sophomore year, life went to 4x speed & I can't turn it off no matter how hard I try.

Maybe COVID-19 adolescence did numbers on me. Somewhere between the iPhone 5c and ChatGPT, 14-hour screen times have live-streamed to me a steady, homogenous death of culture.

Nothing is cool anymore. Nothing is sacred. Every movement is a trend, and every cult classic a sequel.

The value we place on things being beautiful, on being "cool," and our gatekept appreciation of how hard these things were to find: it's been co-opted, or perhaps stolen. It's been stolen by the new merchant class. "Disruptors" and "innovators" turning our lives into a burgeoning black mirror prequel. Soon, we'll graduate too, and we'll wring every morsel of value in each others' lives dry for cash.

Plain and simple, I think we're being manipulated.

Your dates are an algorithm. Your music is a social signal. And Zuck knows when you sleep.*

God. What the fuck are we doing???

“Individuation is becoming the thing which is not the ego, and that is very strange.” — Carl Jung

Recently, I deleted Instagram. My first impulse was to post a story or something, announcing my departure. But then, I thought that would be lame.

I got rid of my account, too. Kinda. Over 1 year, over 800 followers removed, and what remains of me is a little grey icon, and "JM_0000000010" where my name and face used to be.

yay.

There were many people I wish I could have been friends with, but I wonder, too, why I find myself so drawn to the validation of others. Does social media affect me worse, or do we all just choose to ignore it, languishing in private?

At any rate, this last year has almost felt like re-learning how to be a human being.

Personally, I think one of the biggest markers for maturity is when you become willing to disappoint the people you know in favor of what feels right to you, when you start to unravel the stories you’ve told yourself (or been told) about who you are and what you should be. In short, the sluttiest thing a man can do is be himself.

And sometimes, I think about every college student that has ever lived. My grandmother, my dad, and so on. Just consider for a moment all kids who graduated before 2010:

What was it like for the ones in 1940? To walk around, before a campus had computers? In 2006: To meet someone pretty, but forget their number? In 1999: To cram into dorms, and watch Seinfeld live on-air?

Would I, like my dad in 1988, have braved cold night, brisk wind, & landline phone-call just to knock and see if my friends were too busy to hang?

What stories could I tell if there was even the slightest chance of getting lost on the way home from a party?

Humans are social creatures. We crave our friends like water. To me, the clearest difference between Dasani and Instagram is that one of them comes in a bottle.

Yet despite these distractions and comforts we have in 2024, somehow, we still have engineering students. People who carve out time in their day to sit down, look at paper, and solve differential equations. But then, that's not so hard, is it? It just takes time. Precious, fucking, time.

At Meta, leagues and leagues of these engineers power behavioral scientists, who are competing for the highest salary. Their benchmarks? Your FOMO. Guilt. Anxiety. Obsession. The worse you feel, the more you engage with their content. The more you engage with their content, well, you're starting to get the point.

Try something for me: Open up Instagram, but don't tap anything. What happens? How many little animations? How many tiny nudges prompting you to get lost? Our home-pages are billion-dollar diving boards, hoisting us over engineered catacombs of subconscious quicksand.

My homepage is my FOMO, my envy, and my crushes. The pain and struggle of trying to be someone who I am not. My little existential crises, bundled-up, packaged, and shipped with a like button.

To abandon your social networks entirely, however, requires a safety net of close friends. After all, your friends are online, and you'd be miserable without them.

This is the problem with our monkey brains. Millennia of sociological natural-selection have made us quite great at feeling terrible. We're damn good at making tribal status games to play with, too.

Seeking refuge in quirked up septum piercings and boygenius listeners, my time in counter-cultural, alternative "scenes" between St. Louis and Tampa has shown me that even the weirdest of folks and the most removed can accidentally find themselves reduced to nothing more than high-school popularity contests. Even if I love them. Even if they're amazing people. We're human.

We can't "quit social media" as much as we can't "quit bottled water" Sure, we can, but it's inconvenient. And even without a bottle, we're still drinking water.

So I lost touch with my friends. I got no new updates on their lives. I forced myself into the inconvenience of not having a phone to reach for in fleeting moments of boredom. Suddenly, I was out of the loop. Suddenly, I was bored. And suddenly, nobody missed me. My only friends were the ones I had the time to text. Everyone else ... does not exist.

Weekends have become more valuable than ever. Without the empty social calories of seeing my friends' pictures, I find myself planning hangouts as often as my schedule allows. I have more lunches, more study sessions, and more is done in the company of less.

And I have the time to breathe.

And in this calm, I think I found my answer: it's my misplaced ambition. These fears of anxiety and people I thought I would miss, they seem represent something I want to see more of within myself. Something I want to develop, lean into more deeply, as an individual. And I think that's quite normal; to look out into the world and feel attracted to things we want to see more of. This is, I think, how everyone develops their own definition of beauty — and of coolness. It's largely the intersection of what we find most interesting, and what we want to see more of in the world. Because beauty and coolness, by definition, are rare and hard to find. If they were everywhere, nothing be beautiful, nor would anything be cool.

When we all turn into wrinkles and cataracts, bad backs and heart attacks, for a brief, glorious moment, our lives are going to flash before our eyes. In this moment, you'll see your story. The ultimate progression of you.

How much of that will be skibidi toilet and reaction clips? How much of that will be arguing on the internet? Can you tell me, just how much of your life will you have skipped over to pacify your intentionally-lowered attention span?

That girl whose number you couldn't find Those passing questions over coffee that you couldn't search on Google The boredom of a subway ride

Those are not inconveniences, they're what the older generations refer to as "life."

* (oh, but if you can't sleep, consider this aside: Google knows the angle you walk at, how fast you're walking, and they've got crowdsourced pictures of everywhere around you at all times of the day. fun bedtime thoughts <3)

[starry-bi-sky]

for clone Danny, Clone Damian

I give you

Edit Clone Talia as somehow Girlfriend of Danny, just think of the comedy

nah brO BECAUSE LITERALLY I HAVE THOUGHT BOUT THAT. Literally since the conception of Clone Danny, I have thought about it. If only for, as you said, the COMEDY of it all. Plus I love writing romance.

Literally my motto for my aus is: A) is it plausible, B) is it FUNNY (and a secret third option C) is it ANGSTY)

Clone Talia would be an offshoot au of Clone^2 because idk how she'd fit into the original timeline, bUT, she'd exist. And to avoid confusion I'll call her Nasra - I thought about Tameka (which means twin) but I like Nasra better. "Talia and Nasra" just flows so nicely doesn't it?

Idk WHY there's a clone of Talia running around -- maybe the LoA made her, maybe n unknown organization who hates Batman and knows he has romantic ties to Talia, and started making a clone of her to fuck with him and then she got nabbed by a portal when she was still Danny's age and in the middle of training. She might be like Connor (??) and have memories and thus her training is more proficient than baby Dames.

Either way, regardless of how she was made, I think it's hilarious if she, much like baby Dames, immediately attacks Danny on sight. She falls into his city and Danny only has a moment to go "goddammit not agaIN" before he's fending off a very confused, very violent Nasra. Fortunately he's able to actually try and talk to her and be at least somewhat successful -- Nasra knows english. although even if she didn't, Danny would still be somewhat successful since he knows Arabic.

Also Bruce and Danny are the battinson bat because i think that is also hilarious and 'wet rat' is STILL the perfect energy for Danny as Phantom - especially in the early days when he's running around in all but jeans and a hoodie. (and god watch me go on a rant in a separate post about his outfit and reasonings for being Phantom when he has no powers later on because it makes me go FERAL. and his active choice to look as inhuman and ghost-like through his behavior as phantom and the decision to wear such a creepy mask as possible)

(like seriously, imagine walking home late at night while danny was still in his early vigilante days (and even now when he's got damian and a better suit) and seeing a skinny figure in the shadows with sunken in black-and-glowing-green eyes, and a bone white, skull-like face, crouched on all fours like a wild animal about to pounce. THAT is the level of creepiness I was going for for clone danny)

In my head, Sam offers to house Nasra and Nasra stays with her. SAm is able to convince her parents to let her stay, or she pulls a Danny and just straight up smuggles her in and her parents are none the wiser. I also think it's funny if they have unspoken BEEF with each other. Only to later become like sisters. Nasra teaches Sam the martial arts she knows, and also Danny joins in too with Damian because goddamn he needs it even IF he's learning stuff from his mom (as per the most recent snippet post I made).

OH AND DAMIAN AND NASRA. I think it's equally as funny if they ALSO have beef with each other. Nasra is a clone of his mother (of whom he might have complicated views on due to being a clone but still is his mother) and Damian is a clone of Nasra's "son". This beef largely starts from Damian's own refusal to want to share his Danny with another clone, especially with a clone of his MOTHER.

Danny and Nasra don't become lovers for a good, long while I think. They're besties first before they even consider the idea of dating -- not only just because of the whole "uhhh our counterparts dated so it'd feel kinda weird and forced if we dated" and also because Nasra, with her newfound freedom, is busy trying to figure out herself.

A big theme here in clone^2: discovering your identity and who you are as a person when the only thing you own that's unique is your name (which isn't even the case for Damian), and figuring out if your choices are your own or because you're a clone and its something your original would have done. Nature vs Nurture and the illusion of choice and whether it really is one or not.

Also Nasra also becomes a vigilante. Danny appreciates the help but is also tearing out his hair because what the fuck is up with these assassins and becoming vigilantes?! Nasra goes by "Nesha". She's similar to Red Huntress at first where she kinda does her own thing, but is lowkey forced to team up with Danny about it because she doesn't have any proper ghost hunting equipment with her.

And then a duo becomes a trio, and Danny is spending more time with her. And they steadily become friends. Very snarky friends who are very bratty to each other, but friends. Damian still doesn't like her so Danny spends extra time during patrol keeping the two of them from making insults at each other.

"Nesha please stop fighting with a nine year old. Wraith, quit insulting Nesha."

Nasra also uses like, weaponry as Nesha which exasperates Danny a little because why are you using swords??? They're already dead its not gonna kill them,,,, If you cut off their heads its just gonna piss em off, its re-attachable. Let him ghost-proof it first too. But well, its still gonna HURT he supposes. He's still a little exasperated.

And MMM i'm sorry lmao im so focused on Nasra becoming her own person than the actual romance aspect of it all. Nasra cuts her hair short for the same/similar reasons that Danny keeps his long - to try and gain a semblance of autonomy and identity that's away from their original. Danny has his alternative rock-kinda geeky look and Nasra's got, from influence from Sam, a more alternative fashion style. Although she still leans into being feminine, which is a good challenge to Sam's belief that feminity = bad, and gets her to unlearn those bad habits since her new adoptive sister is feminine while still being an unapologetic badass.

And ykw I think Nasra gets into rollerblading and loves it. She rollerblades constantly. Damian is furious because skating is his thing (even if what he gets later on is a skateboard - skater boy damian ftw. i can see him wearing flannels and graphic tees as a teenager. very grungy/skater aesthetic. He also has a much more relaxed and teen-y speech pattern compared to DW's more formal way of talking. He also spray paints as his form of artistic medium.) and he refuses to have Nasra be a copy of him.

They will sort out their differences eventually. LMao.

Anyways they eventually do get together, but not before Danny finally has his run in with Mister Wayne. Which, they only meet because Danny starts destabilizing, and thus needs Bruce Wayne's DNA to help stabilize himself. Which that meeting in and of itself is pretty chaotic on its own, but then add clone Damian and Nasra? Bruce needs coffee.. or alcohol.

Because picture this: its late at night, you're on patrol with the rest of your family. It's like, two in the morning. You suddenly get a call in from your butler, Alfred, informing you that not one, not two, but THREE children -- two of them in their late teens and the other one not even ten yet -- showed up on your doorstep. One of them is unconscious. They are all clones.

The girl and the boy are twins - and are clones of YOU - and the girl isn't even technically YOUR clone she's a clone of your clone - and also this clone of you is your college friends' kid. And then the youngest boy is a clone of your youngest SON. Bruce is running across rooftops when he gets this call and does a literal 180 degree turn and touches the ground because he basically did a figure skating turn, and sprints back towards the manor because what the fuck? He needs to check this out.

And then half a day later a clone of your fucking ex shows up on your doorstep demanding to see the clone of you - the boy that is, not the girl - and then immediately gets into a verbal lashing with the clone of your son. Like what a fucking DAY. Your kids are equally as baffled but also laughing their asses off -- except your bio son, who is very unhappy about this turn of events and keeps getting the stink eye from his clone.

Like??? I'd quit right then and there.

While Danny recovers he's staying in Wayne manor and Damian is very reportedly not leaving his side. Ellie has to leave to help take care of Amity Park with RH, and then Nasra is also very determinedly not leaving his side either. This is her friend dammit. The first thing she does when he becomes lucid is insult him, and he insults her back - they're bantering. It's how they flirt later on. None of the Bats know how to deal with this situation.

[morgandoesstuffsig]

Idk if ur requests are open, but hear me out XD. A creator!reader who descends on Teyvat meets all the Archons and such. Then up and leaves by changing their appearance in order to explore their creation and how it has changed. Every once in a while Creator will make themselves obvious by performing acts only the Creator could. Once they are found out they just up and leave again only to resurface after another Divine act. TLDR: Creator playing cat and mouse with Teyvat

oh my GOD creator is just TORTURING then atp

small ramble because i still have massive writers block [cries] also ignore how late this is pls ok mwamwa thnx

c.w // yan. chars

song : Best Friend - Rex Orange County

SAGAU INCOMING : YAN CHARS.

okay so you decided 'hey man, what if i wasn't worshipped the moment i stepped outside'

so you just said fuck it and shifted

(it's been a while since you've done so, it kind of felt weird and hurt a tiny bit)

walking around teyvat in an odd, different form. completely different hair, height, clothes, you get the gist

the only things you couldnt change however were three things:

your blood (still gold, but you didn't plan on bleeding infront of anyone)

your aura (still comforting, caring, and even alluring)

your voice (why? zero clue.)

escaping the throne room you've oh so sadly been bound to!! having fun while doing it!!

(the only real reason you managed to escape is bc you managed to get the archons out and actually tend to their nations, as per your request order)

messing around while escaping fr!! people passing by wondering why this random person they've never seen is (not very) sneakily running away from the creator's palace/temple

but eventually shrugging it off, albeit reluctantly

messing around in mondstat, playing with the npc children more than you could usually, giving them the time of their life!!

this is where you use your first creator powers >:3

some poor kid scraped his knee real hard on the bridge, let's say timmie (hes so sweet he just wants to defend his birds pls b nice to him!!)

you, being the belovent god you are, use your divine powers to heal him

whether you do it with the hc of having to use your own gold blood or just having special healing powers only creator has, you do it

however, your dumbass mind hadn't thought of the fact that Venti may have been watching this

new outlander person with a mysterious aura

and now he quickly learns its you :0!!

the archons had no clue you could shapeshift!! why wasnt this in the ancient scrolls??? did they just lose the ones that mentioned it???

venti immediately finds some weird wind way to tell the other archons

fucking loud mouth

speaking of which, ei is freaking. out.

she came back to just check on you in your throne room and youre just.

not there??

panics, almost goes to zhongli before she gets venti's message and calms down slightly

atp you've realize you've outed yourself

so after making sure timmie is find you quickly run off into the forest before venti can come after you and smother you (both physically and with questions)

forest reached, new mission : new form needed

this basically keeps happening, and it's a needed breath of fresh air for you

running to liyue looking like a normal person until you magically form a special medicine that was unheard of from your hand for an elder, sickly lady

running from liyue to sumeru and shifting into!! an animal!! a fox!! cat!! tiger!! dog!! bird!! any of the sort!!

only getting outed from sumeru after you accidentally spoke while in animal form and having to go over to inazuma as an unknown, traveling sailor!!

getting outed after that for your extremely familiar aura and voice (inazuma people are scarily observant towards strangers) and eventually getting shoved escorted back to your palace/temple

funny stories to tell

however, the archons wont be leaving your room for quite a while..

oh well, who says you don't have other stunts to pull?

[intoanotherworld23]

Stairs Are Better Anyway

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY DNI, this whole thing is pure smut and sex, there’s filthy language, unprotected sex, sex on stairs

Summary: Chris was always a fan of taking the stairs especially with you on it

Hearts, reblogs, and comments are greatly encouraged and appreciated! I love to hear back from everyone on my works!! If you wish to be added to my Chris Evans tag list please do not hesitate to ask I would be more than happy to add more people! Thank you guys so much and enjoy! XOXO

"You just don't know when to stop do you?" Chris grumbled as you laid across the stairs knees bent with your legs spread enticing him even more.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Acting completely innocent in this current situation.

"Oh sweetheart you never learn do you?" Watching as Chris crawled up the stairs until he was hovering above you lips pressed against yours. "Teasing me like that at the party."

His hands were all over you as you wrapped yours around his neck. Gripping onto him when you felt him push his body tightly against you. Feeling how hard he was for you and wiggling your hips just to push him a little bit further.

Chris growling into your mouth as you grinned knowing you got him. Not wasting any time in lifting up the bottom of your dress revealing your laced panties that already had a wet spot forming. Helping Chris unbuckle his pants and push them down his legs to the edge of his ankles.

"This what you wanted?" Mumbling against your lips. "To be fucked like the good little whore that you are."

"Yes." Your panties being pulled to the side a cold breeze hitting your core a shiver running up your spine.

"Tell me how badly you need it Y/N?" He teased as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your now soaked folds. "I want to hear those pretty lips beg for me."

"Chris I need you badly it hurts." Biting your bottom lip as he watched you with hungry eyes. "I want you inside me so badly."

"I don't know sweetheart I'm not believing you." Sighing loudly in frustration as he played his own game with you.

"God Chris please fuck me so hard on these stairs that I can't walk for a week." Pleading up at him as you tried moving your hips hoping you could slip him inside of you.

"That's my good girl."Leaning forward pressing his entire cock inside of you a gasp slipping past your lips. "Holy fuck you are so wet baby."

Lifting his hips back up only to slam down into you. Whimpers and grunts filling the air as he quickly picked up his pace and found a steady rhythm. His head remained pressed into your neck as he nibbled on your skin. His arms enclosed around your head to feel even more close to you.

Moaning loudly into his ear every time he sharply thrusted into your body. Your back pressing into the edge of the stairs, but you pushed through the discomfort, and focused on Chris. Moving your arms so they wrapped around his back. Putting some slight pressure on his lower back to feel more of his movements.

"That's it baby your doing so good for me." Words of praise echoed in your ear when you whined and whimpered for him. "Look at you stuffed full of my cock."

Chris leaned himself up only to watch as his cock would disappear inside of you. Drenched in your arousal making this squishing sound that had him really to start howling like some wild animal. He loved to watch as you would take him so deeply, and was always amazed you took him well every time.

"You want harder baby?" He teased his thrusts becoming slow and sensual. "Does my girl want me to fuck her harder?"

"Please Chris fuck me harder." Gritting through your teeth the frustration you felt never receding.

Rocking himself into your whole body to the point you were afraid you two would break the stairs. Feeling as he unleashed all his energy and power into you both of you in a state of euphoria. Seems like you weren't the only one who needed this either.

"God you look so good getting fucked on the stairs like this." Your left hand gripping the railing of the stairs.

Cheeks felt like they were on fire like someone was sticking a hot poker in front of your face. A drop of sweat descending down Chris's face and onto your chest. Rolling down your chest and in between your breasts. It felt cool for a brief second but then soon evaporated from the heat.

"Just like that." Crying out as your legs wrapped around him like a vine.

"This is all you needed didn't you baby?" His tone mocking as he looked at the pleasure on your face.

The new angle had your toes curling so hard you were afraid they would sprain. You were getting so close you could feel it in the pit of your stomach. Chris didn't once slow down as he pounding into you so deeply he could see a bulge in your stomach.

"That's my good girl so good for me." Pressing his forehead against yours feeling you squeeze around him.

"Oh god Chris I'm gonna cum." Your legs were starting to tremble as your release was vastly approaching.

"Cum hard for me sweetheart." That was the final click in your brain covering him in your arousal.

"Oh fuck baby I'm right there." Groaning with a strained voice as he panted heavily above you his cock twitching violently inside you pumping you full of his warm seed.

Leaning his head back down on your heaving chest as both of you tried to catch your breath. Your legs shaking from your intense orgasm as Chris laid slump on top of your body. Leaving tender kisses on your chest as he helped you come down from your high.

"That's why I love taking the stairs." He joked making you both burst into a fit of laughter.

——————————————

Tag list for Chris Evans: @denisemarieangelina @kimberlydyan @patzammit @tinawritesstuff @princess-evans-addict @cevanstan29 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @inmoix @evansgirl7 @nina-sj @chris-butt @a-moment-captured @suchababie @colinbridgertonisbebe @d3vil-is-my-sugg4rd4ddy @sesamepancakes @justjulie1105 @r2gers @sweetllamaparadise @coldmuffinpartycloud @foxchild-v @evansphnx12 @breezykpop @sunwardsss @nathalienightmare @franfineashell @snowy992 @chrisgirl4 @rainbowkisses31 @mrspeacem1nusone @mayisdelanoche @fantastickoya @seaweedthewhale @eliluv1626 @ccmarvelxx @chelricki96 @justile @maceymae2704 @ysmmsy @cheerup-loki @nostxlgia18 @nicolarobertson89 @evansxchalamet @freerose11 @ace-of-spaids2 @gitasor @december16-1991 @allthingschrisevans @melissad1974 @starry-night-20 @maryann8913 @gh0stgurl @vaseoftulips @danireal17 @seattlexgirl @noplacelikehome77 @evansgal @sherlockzss @deandreamernp @chrisevans-4ever @rookiemartin @lowkeysebby @compulsiveshit @janaev4ns @justreadingficsdontmindme @elrw24 @ccrobbs @fangirl125reader @iminluvwthme @alexxavicry @ttomholland1996 @loumaaria-blog @ilybbg @rogersbarber

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21

[weebsinstash]

SIIIIIIIIIIGH oh my god though the power of across the spiderverse cannot be understated because I still think about Miguel O'Hara at least once a week and he's ruining me so I have a new idea for you guys (also did any of you see there's gonna be new Spiderman 2099 comics where he gets a Symbiote. Spidey 2099 being driven by his new Symbiote to finally act on his urges after hiding them from you completely for YEARS and just unleashes them all on you like a decade delayed volcanic eruption, just fucks you like an absolute animal who's about to go extinct and you're the only mate for miles--)

So anyways I was initially actually thinking of this for uh like Batman or the JL or whatever but, usually I come out here with my ideas, "what if Miguel meets you for the first time and you two get to know each other and he's crazy for you" but now I'm gonna hit you with "what if Miguel meets Reader and it's his first time meeting you but you've actually met different versions of him before" and it's in the most dramatic way possible (besides that "spiderwoman 2099 Reader who lost Miguel as her husband as her canon event falling prey to new Miguel who lost his wife as his canon event" idea anyways)

Miguel meets you when he chases an anomaly into your universe and finds himself drawn to you instantly, like magnetism, just so curious to learn about you, talk to you, spend time with you, and yet... you seem... off-put by him. You don't meet his eyes in a normal way, and there's a certain... agitation you regard him with more than once. He just wants to get to know you and you're practically AVOIDING him, even as you work for the Spider Society with him practically having to force that watch into your hand

He then finds out with all of these infinite universes, that there's a SECOND Spider Society, ran by another Miguel O'Hara

.... who is your ex-boyfriend

who never got over you

who still wants you back

who you're very obviously uncomfortable around, if not outright scared of, and everyone can immediately tell this second Miguel, let's call him Migs, is maybe not all entirely right in the head. He sees you and his entire personality changes. The tone of his voice. The light in his eyes. The way his smile pulls tight. The clear predatory interest.

Miguel is working with you amd there when Migs is 'introduced' and Miguel is INSTANTLY not only fiercely "territorial", but once he sees that you're actually kind of SCARED of this guy, well... Miguel doesn't want him there. Period. But Migs doesn't want to leave. The man claims you're still a member of his Arachnid Association, that everyone misses you, that HE misses you, misses working with you, misses holding you, FEELING you-

Like can you even imagine... Miguel watches you go from someone who is very unresponsive around him, giving him short answers, really only working with him when necessary, being intentionally emotionless, and then Migs comes out, and your hands are shaking, and you're breathing harder, and for a split second you look at Miguel and he KNOWS you're asking for help and he KNOWS he can see tears, even if you look away moments later trying to compose yourself, and it's ON, this guy has to LEAVE, Miguel doesn't even need a story or explanation he just KNOWS this motherfucker needs to get away from you and get out

Too bad the twist is that Migs is just a less intelligent and just more openly blatant alternate of Miguel, and you were just served on a silver platter to an infinitely more charismatic, more wizened, just as obsessive predator who you are now just SO grateful to. He's your HERO! Not to mention, you know, there were other people in the Arachnid Association that kind of gave you bad vibes, so, you should obviouslyyy stay under the protection of the Spider Society which Definitely :) isn't just as filled with eyes watching you as the last place if not even more, just smarter and more emotionally dedicated :) you can Totally relax here :) ignore that your Spidey Sense goes off sometimes when you're """alone""", it's just nerves, and you should totally totally totally tell Miguel or Peter B or your closest trusted "normal platonic friend" alllll about anything that happens and all of your feelings in detail! I mean, aren't they there to support you? They'll go over their game plan at the next meeting. You know, the secret ones you don't know about, the ones that are always only about one specific special person and I'll give you one guess as to who it is...

[fayes-fics]

Accurate

2k Celebration Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: An argument in a pub garden take an interesting turn...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI. PWP. Alfresco, slightly exhibitionist, oral sex (m to f), vaginal fingering, gagging. Arguing as foreplay. Frenemies to sudden lovers.

Word Count: 1.5k (this is so far from 250 words max its LAUGHABLE)

Authors Note: This is filth. I'm not even sorry. The third of my 2k follower celebration drabble request fills (ask here). prompts: “You heard me. Take. It. Off.” And “I fucking hate you”. Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

He is making you so angry your blood feels like it is boiling in your veins.  He also turns you on so much you feel weak in your knees, which somehow makes you even angrier.

“Fuck off, Bridgerton!” you grouse, stalking away, down the side of the country pub wall, back to the now almost pitch-black pub garden.

“No! How about you listen to me for once, gods sake!!” Benefict gruffs, following you.

It’s so uncharacteristic of him to raise his voice, but he seems just as overwrought as you right now. He screws his eyes shut and throws back his head in frustration, and you can't help but stare at the profile of his prominent Adam’s apple as he swallows heavily, framed as it is by the string of outdoor lights on the fence nearby.

“Listen,” he says, calmer, eyes still shut. “Let’s agree to disagree on this.” 

“Don't do that,” your anger flaring again. “Don’t back down in a fight.”

He tilts his head back down and looks at you incredulously. “You actually want a fight?” He fixes you with a blistering stare and cocks his head to the side, studying you intently as you stand there, hands on hips, breathing heavily, flushed, and irritated. Then something akin to a lightbulb goes off behind his eyes, and butterflies roar to life in your stomach.

“You are aroused by this, aren't you?” it's in a register you've never heard from him before.

You splutter in indignation and flex your hands, not knowing how to answer that very truthful statement. You hate that he's right.

“I fucking hate you,” you spit. An evasion.

He takes a step towards you, and a predatory grin begins to take shape.

“No, you don't,” he challenges.

Another step.

You glance around the deserted pub garden, suddenly cornered, akin to a wild animal trapped by a poacher. And so very, very overheated. 

“Take off your skirt,” he orders apropos of nothing. You stumble on your sandal.

“What??”

“You heard me,” he growls, his voice dropping an octave as he takes another step closer. “Take. It. Off.”

“We are in a bloody pub garden!” you exclaim, but you can't conceal the panting breath it takes to say it.

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snarls, and something floods through your system at how wild his expression is. It's a wash of chemicals, unlike anything you’ve experienced in years. Whoever the fuck this Benedict is, you need him like you need air. 

You back up as he takes another step, and your calves hit the wooden edge of a picnic bench; you have to reach back to stop yourself from toppling over. And yet still, he is advancing on you.

“Sit. Down,” he commands through gritted teeth, right in front of you now.

You have lost all power of speech except the squeak as he grabs your hips and roughly plants you on the tabletop—the lichen cool of the wood slats seeping through the thin cotton of your skirt.

“You need to calm the fuck down,” he opines, pulling your legs open roughly, and you squeak again as air swirls around your soaked underwear. “Cat got your tongue suddenly?” he preens; you can't even look away from his triumphant smirk.

A warm hand encircles your entire kneecap, and you gasp as he runs it up your leg, pushing your skirt up as he goes, his grip encompassing the entire width of your thigh.

“I am going to eat you out; maybe then you will be in a better mood,” he offers casually as your mouth drops open.

“What if I don’t want that?” you counter weakly. A total lie too.

He leans in, his lips brushing your ear. “I can smell that's a lie,” he rumbles.

You make a little noise, halfway between a sigh and a moan; you feel his victorious smile against your cheek as a long finger unfurls its grip around your thigh and brushes featherlight over the gusset of your knickers. You inhale sharply, time standing still for a moment.

Then there is a frenzy of movement as he pushes you down on the tabletop and drops to the bench seat, pushing aside your underwear and driving his face right between your legs, instant heat and suction.

“Holy sh…..” you cry, grasping the wood by your head, needing something to ground you.

He is not even polite about it. Nor is he remotely hesitant, driving his tongue deep into your fleshy folds and groaning as he does so, the vibration shaking your throbbing clit.

“Fuck Ben….” you gasp, your legs falling open wider at the press of his hands on your inner thighs.

His mouth opens wide, and he sucks on your clit so hard you have to swivel and bite your own wrist to stop from yelling. It's all heat and sensation, and it’s dizzyingly fast. But not in a bad way. Just in the sense of sheer intensity.

Then two long fingers plunge into your pussy. You squeal at the shock and then groan at the feel of his wide knuckles pushing you open. 

“Shut up,” he chides, pulling back a fraction, but there is no malice in it; in fact, it sounds bemused and a touch boastful.

For once, you do as you are told. Possibly the first time ever. Folding your lips under your teeth and staring up at the stars, still not certain this isn't some kind of fevered dream.

You are mildly ashamed of the squelching sounds he is wringing from your body, but then he flattens his tongue out wide and pulses it over your nub… and you really don't give a shit anymore. Just so fucking gone on the feeling. Fuck, a group of people could walk out of the pub, and you'd plead with him to just keep going.

He redoubles his efforts, making filthy sodden noises as he pulls your swollen bud hard into his mouth, those sinful fingers hooking deep. You can feel a pull inside, a tense feeling that signals you are so close to coming.

You reach down and grab his hair, which spurs on him, wrapping his hands around your hips and bodily heaving you closer, the wood abrading your bum cheeks.

“I can tell you're teetering now; I can feel those ripples right….” His fingers spear against your g-spot, “...there!” 

You cant help the loud cry that rips from your lungs. Benedict rears back, his fingers withdrawing and leaving you wanting, roughly pulling off the underwear he had merely pushed aside until now. You startle as he looms over you, pulling your jaw down, your mouth dropping open. He shoves your own pants into your mouth, tart and damp.

“I said shut up, didn't I?” he glowers.

You are utterly, utterly gone. This isn't anything like you expected Benedict to be. And fuck, if it isn't so hot, you can't do anything but stare wide-eyed and nod your assent, your clit distended and throbbing painfully in the cold night air. 

“Good,” he nods, then drops out of your eye line.

The ferocity with which he buries his face into you, his nose pressing deep into your flesh, stubble on his chin itching your labia, his tongue swirling, his fingers plunging back into you. It’s a blindingly intense, almost violent, deluge of sensation.

Your yell is muffled by the material in your mouth, and you take deep, snuffled breaths through your nose, throwing your head side to side and digging your fingernails hard into the table as he spirals you higher and higher and higher. Every ounce of your body is held in tension, as if you are fighting your orgasm, not wanting this to end.

With a flick of his fingers and a spear of his tongue, the tide breaks inside; you convulse so hard his fingers are repelled from your body, utterly soaked. Behind your gag, you are screaming nonsense as he has to fight your body, engaging his upper body strength to hold you down and open, his mouth never stopping its assault, dragging it out into something that makes your whole body quiver, teeth grinding on cotton, your vision whiting out.

Then slowly, you are coming back into your own body. He is hovering over you and gently removing your underwear from your mouth, an entirely smug look on his face that gleams with your juices.

“Please, please tell me you are in a better mood now,” he sighs, but he can't help but break into a boyish grin that seems entirely at odds with what he was just doing.

And you are unable to stop the giggle that erupts from inside. “I might be,” you smile back.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, watching your eyes dilate even further. “Oh would you look at that?” he chuckles darkly, “I think I finally know how to get you to behave.”

“Wouldnt you like to try Mr Bridgerton?” you flirt outrageously, your tone intentionally pitched to tease.

“Yes, I fucking would,” he answers, pulling you up and wrapping you into his arms, “you are coming home with me.” 

It's not even a question. It's a statement. And it's wholly accurate.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms