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#plattered writings
uplatterme · 8 months
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Imagine Idol Aether where you fuck him backstage but you don’t let him cum so he just has to perform horny🤫
Also can I be 🦷 anon
—idol!aether/manager!reader, sub!aether/dom!reader | edging, mentions of exhibitionism | reader has a dick and penetrates, gets called sir
aether continues to pant, his body hugging yours.
his poofy white shorts lowered to his thighs, cum leaking from both of you.
his music continues to play from the stage, loud enough to be heard here in his dressing room.
“please.” he breathes.
he feels your hand caressing his back, the soft touch just making it unbearable. he wants to cry so badly, he needs it and you weren’t giving it to him.
“no tears. it’s too late to get your makeup retouched.” you warned.
“y-yes, sir.”
each thrust pleasurable but agonizing, but he’d rather have this than nothing.
“you like it, don’t you? hearing your fans excitedly cheer for you…meanwhile, you’re here getting dicked down by your manager.”
the idol hides his face on your shoulder.
“c-can’t help it…you make me feel so good.”
you bend him on his table, the mirror facing him as he gets pounded.
“i bet you’d love to be fucked on stage, hm?”
he doesn’t know how to answer to that. it was a thought that’s crossed his mind before, he doesn’t dare to lie.
the urge to pull on his golden locks was high but you decided against it, not wanting to ruin his hair.
besides, you were already ruining his bottom half.
“you just adore attention, don’t you? you think those fans of yours can’t see under your shorts whenever you dance?”
“you made me wear it…” he argued, his lips trembling from keeping every sound in his chest.
no moaning or screaming, you said. it’ll ruin his voice, you said.
and yet here you were dicking him down ruthlessly as if that won’t affect his dancing. he bites the bottom of his lips, his thighs are already shaking on their own.
“you act like i forced you into this. i gave you options, didn’t i? but you still chose this one.”
aether lets out a soft grunt as he feels your movements directly hitting that spot.
the idol looked drunk, he wanted to grip on something but he could do nothing but close his fists on top of the table.
“what is it? you want to show off to your fans that bad? or is it because that one boy group you like is attending today’s concert?”
aether shakes his head. “ngh…no. only you, i promise.”
a knock comes from the door. one of the staff reminding them that they had to go in five.
“good. after all, a pure and sweet idol should stay loyal to the one he loves. isn’t that right?”
“y-yes!” he yelps, feeling his stomach warming up with your cum.
once you pull out, he already feels his shorts getting fixed without even wiping the stains or cleaning him up first.
he’ll try his best to keep it in, just like as usual.
he can’t wait to finish this concert and just get dumbed down without any worries.
each step has him quivering despite his shoes being short-heeled, cum slowly leaking out of his briefs whenever his body shifts wrongly. each nerve of his body wanting to just pounce on you and cancel this event.
“do a good job.” you say.
aether smiles at you, an idol’s perfect smile. “you know i will.”
you chuckle, unable to resist messing his hair up now by patting his head.
“i’ll make sure to reward you good afterwards.”
a blush creeps up on aether’s face just imagining it.
he has got to stop you with all this teasing.
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extractedvanilla · 1 year
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A General In Service!
cw: sub!gorou, virgin!gorou, dom!reader, reader has a cock, biting, scratching
summary: things take a turn when you discover that ms. hina was none other than the general of the watasumi army
a/n: hi, yes. it’s me.
You really didn’t mean to look through the things of the General. Still, the curiosity bearing over you was too much. 
You were simply on a late-night walk when you noticed Gorou in his tent, deep in thought, a quill to his head while his tail was wagging back and forth. You’ve never seen him so serious to the point that you worried about whatever he’s pondering on at the moment. With the current affairs of Inazuma, even if things are slowly going back to normal, most would probably assume the same worries.
So once he left the tent, you sneaked in and skimmed through the contents of the letters just in case someone were to catch your endeavor. 
“This is…from the Shrine Maiden.” You uttered quietly, confused about the relationship between the two, especially since you didn’t think the maiden was interested in men.
You glanced outside to see if he was coming back before reading what was written in it.
“Ms. Hina, I do hope you didn’t forget to finish this week’s column. It’d be a shame if that happens, wouldn’t it?” You read out loud.
You squint your eyes, checking if what you were reading was real.
Ms. Hina…is the General?!
You hurriedly left his office, unable to contain the new information you had brought upon yourself.
“It could just be a joke! Ms. Miko is often very playful.” You calmed your thoughts. Surely not, right?
You sighed, returning to your tent and going to sleep.
“(Name)? Could you give these letters to the General?” A fellow soldier said, handing you a pile of letters.
You swallowed, remembering what you read that night. You checked the sender’s name again and there it was, the Shrine Maiden.
You swore. You were a soldier, you shouldn’t bother yourself with such things. You supposed it didn’t seem far-fetched, the General’s always been good at giving advice. Besides, isn’t this just another way of helping out the people?
You entered Gorou’s tent and saw him getting dressed.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize you were changing.” You blurted out.
You’ve always wondered how the general’s skin stayed smooth, there were no scar markings or blemishes in any area. 
Gorou’s mouth gaped open, not expecting you to be at such a close distance. “I-Hello. Uhm.”
“Ah, I apologize. Although, it’s not much of a change than usual.” You said, bringing up the fact that compared to you and the other soldiers, Gorou didn’t wear much when it comes to armor.
His ears downed as they followed the direction he was looking at. 
“I have some letters for you General. They came from uh-Miss Yae Miko.”
Gorou ran towards you, snatching the letters from your hands.
“Y-Yes! Thank you for your work!” He spat out, pushing you out of his tent.
With the way his nervousness was through the roof, you couldn’t help but believe that he really was Ms. Hina.
You walked away, scratching your head because of the whole thing. “I should just forget about this, It’s not my business–”
“It smells like (Name).”
You turned your head, wondering if what you heard was right, but you eventually left the area thinking that your mind was playing tricks on you.
“Here.” The same soldier from the other day said, giving you another pile of letters.
“Oh. For the General, right? Why do you keep giving me these, you could just hand it over yourself.”
He looked at you concerned. 
“What? That’s because the General likes you.”
Huh. “The General likes the Divine Priestess, not me.”
“Dude. He likes Miss Sangonomiya, sure. But he adores you. His face literally brightens up whenever you call him.”
You argued with him, telling him that there was no way he viewed you like that.
“You know what? I’m bad at this. If you want actual advice, you should send something to Ms. Hina. Five-star rating for sure, did my wife and me a solid one.”
You didn’t really want to involve yourself in such matters anymore but writing to Ms. Hina meant you could solve either one or both of your problems. One, you could get yourself solid advice on the unbeknownst attraction Gorou had for you. Two, you could finally figure out if Ms. Hina was Gorou.
So, with paper and ink in hand, you got to writing.
You went quickly to the columns when you received the magazine for that week. 
“There’s really nothing wrong with taking a leap. You should try to talk about it with this person instead of listening to rumors and forming your own conclusions about that. If he won’t make the first move, then who will?” You read.
You sighed, you were now sure that this was definitely him. You knew firsthand how the General would give advice to the other soldiers. This was just like it.
You needed to go.
“General, can we talk about something–oh. Do you need any help?” You asked, seeing the general with a brush and comb in his hands.
“(N-Name)!” He called out, grabbing his tail before it could start wagging because of your appearance. 
You didn’t understand how you were so blind to his fondness for you.
“I apologize, I forgot you didn’t like when others touch your tail and ears.”
He shook his head, blushing.
“No…It’s okay if it’s you.”
You sat down next to the General who looked like he would explode at any moment. “General, I can’t brush your tail if you keep moving.”
“Ah–I’m sorry.” He said, saddened that you might be annoyed at him.
You two sat in silence as you groomed his tail, bringing it back to its pure fluffiness. It was so soft, running your fingers through it felt satisfying.
“Hn—!” The General let out.
You stared at him, stunned at what you just heard.
“Sorry! It’s just that–”
“General Gorou, are you Ms. Hina?”
He laughed awkwardly, his face looked like he had just seen someone die right in front of him.
“No? I mean, No! W-Why would you ask that?”
Was this really the right move? You thought to yourself, were you coming off too aggressive?
He stood up, ready to leave and wanting to escape the confrontation.
“Aha–I’ll get going now—Hah!” He moaned out, still forgetting that his tail was still in your hands which caused you to accidentally pull it.
He fell to his knees, trembling.
“General? Are you alright? Should I go get a medic?” You asked frantically, worried you may have injured him.
“N-No. Stay here, it hurts.” He said.
“Your tail? I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do to help?” You offered some reassurance.
“It’s…not my tail that’s hurting.”
“What?”
“D-Down here. It hurts again.”
Down?
You gazed down at him and your eyes widened. You pushed back your questions for the meantime, the task at hand being too much to ignore.
“I–Would you like some help?”
He nodded at you, ears twitching.
You gently pushed him to the ground, pulling down his pants to reveal his tiny cock. It was swelling up, some precum already leaking.
“When was the last time you had a release?” You asked.
“I’ve never…” He said quietly.
“Never? What do you do with your heat then?”
He stayed quiet. Right, it must be difficult talking about that with someone.
You touched his cock, already making Gorou’s back arch from the sensation. “Ah–”
He whimpered. His tail wagging from behind. 
You haven’t even done much but he looked like he was ready to burst any second now. You slowly stroke him, not wanting him to get overwhelmed. His hips pushed out, seeking the warmth from your hands. 
Gorou was very expressive, each touch from you giving him pleasure that he hadn’t realized was possible.
“C-Can’t, It’s coming out–” Gorou came with a shiver, his cum splattering all over his chest. 
Still, he remained hard. You figured that it must be because everything’s been building up inside him.
“You’re really loud, General.”
He blushed deep red, embarrassed especially since it was coming from you. “I’ll keep it down…”
“No, I like that about you. You don’t have to worry. Open up.”
“What–?”
You inserted your fingers into his mouth, allowing Gorou to suck on it while pouting. 
“I never realized that you were this small, your cheeks are already full. I wonder how you’d look like something else other than my fingers.” You said.
He tried to reply but you weren’t able to understand his words.
You pulled your fingers out, his drool all over them. 
“General, do you actually like me?” You asked, raising his legs over your shoulders.
Gorou nodded shyly. He never expected you to notice it after all the times he’s ignored your advances. 
“I thought you hated me,” He admitted.
“You don’t even call me by my name…” Gorou said quietly.
“Gorou.”
It felt foreign to call him by his name. You’ve never done it, seeing as it seemed a bit too informal.
You penetrated his walls with your middle finger, sending Gorou whining. You wanted to take it slow, not wanting him to get overwhelmed.
“Mhm!”
“Just enjoy it Gorou, no need to hold yourself back.”
You noticed how Gorou’s ears moved whenever he did.
Gorou squirmed on the ground as you went deeper inside of him, eventually reaching his prostate. 
“Nghh! (Name)–” He reached another climax just as quickly.
“You’re so tight, Gorou.” You insert another finger inside him, opening his entrance even more.
His legs were shaking as you probed him deeper.
Once you figured that it would be good enough, you pulled him towards you, his ass laying on your lap.
“Hold onto me,” You warned him, helping him insert your cock inside his walls.
“Don’t move too much, it’s best to go slowly.”
He flinched, feeling the tip of your cock probe his entrance. His arms were around you, hugging you tightly.
“Haah–” He breathed out, unused to the feeling of something inside him.
Your attention was back to his ears again that was now only centimeters away from you. You reached his ears with your mouth and nibbled them when Gorou yelped, his nails scratching your back and sending your cock deeper, to the point of it being almost all the way in.
He came again because of it, moaning as he hugged you tighter. 
“W-Warm…” He said.
“I told you not to move too much…” You reminded Gorou.
“M-My ears…sensitive.” He whined as he slowly moved up and down, feeling you in and out of him.
“Good boy.” You praised him, causing Gorou to become even more flustered.
Having Gorou on top of you meant you could see every movement he made and the expressions that showed on his face as he did. Seeing him pleasure himself like that made you pat his head, sending a wave of pleasure to his head.
Gorou orgasmed, his thighs quivering as his seed spurted out onto both of you.
“Are you okay?” You questioned the exhausted General.
“Mhm. You’re not going to finish?” He sadly replied.
“Next time, Gorou. You have patrol tomorrow, don’t you?” You reminded, wondering if he would even be able to walk around straight with the way he is right now.
“You promise?”
“What?” You squeaked out, my god. Your General was so adorable.
“Of course, Gorou.” You answered.
You sighed, contented. Your questions about his alter-ego being left for next time.
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little-pondhead · 3 months
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Danny moved to Gotham.
Freakshow is touring in Gotham.
Freakshow knows Danny is in Gotham.
Danny knows Freakshow is still after him.
Danny's faith in heroes has been shattered.
Danny turns to the only person powerful enough to run Freakshow out of town, hopefully for good.
Danny turns to the Joker for help.
The Joker is looking for a new punching bag sidekick after Harley Quinn left him.
Danny is just the perfect person to be shaped by the Joker's hands.
Danny becomes the new Joker Junior.
#pondhead blurbs#dpxdc#how we feeling about this fellas#i think it's an ideal angst fic#but i don't wanna write it lol#the younger danny is the worse it gets#someone said that danny shouldn't be afraid of the joker because he's a clown and freakshow is a ringmaster. not a clown#if i find that post i'll tag the creator cause i can't remember rn#but i'm imagining danny who is heavily traumatized and scared and lonely#finding out that one of his worst enemies he hoped to never see again is hunting him and is so close danny has to check his eyes every day#just to make sure they haven't turned red#his anxiety is out of control and he's not about to go find a Bat or Bird to talk to#who would believe him anyways? he's a monster#but danny needs help cause he will not survive this on his own and he knows it#freakshow haunts his every waking dream#but freakshow isn't from gotham. he doesn't have the city's curses engraved into his blood. he never died and he's not truly teasing death#so danny chooses to plead for help from the only predator bigger than freakshow (in his eyes) who IS from gotham#danny goes to the Joker. prepared to offer everything but his free will and free mind. he can't give those up. it's all he has.#danny is a feral house cat asking a tiger to take care of a mountain lion for him by offering the tiger his own liver on a silver platter#joker is...delighted? maybe? no one is quite sure. but he takes what danny offers.#here is this little boy. almost the same age as the second robin when he died. pleading for the JOKER to be his savior. this will be fun
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months
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thomas wayne au excerpts - things that could've been part of a grander fic except there's no grander fic
thomas wayne au - an au i made last year where danny is literally just. thomas wayne. his full name was Daniel Thomas Fenton and he started going by Thomas Nightingale after he was disowned. because of course. here is a link to the first post if anyone wants to see a more in depth view of the au (its also the start of me using the ‘danny fenton is not the ghost king’ au lmao
additional info: bruce is the result of a failed cloning attempt from vlad - vlad used a combination of danny's dna and an unnamed girl (Martha's) to make him to try and balance out the ectoplasm use. this resulted in a slightly liminal but otherwise completely human and stable baby boy. Bruce is, by all accounts, Danny's biological son. Danny named him Bruce
Danny was 24 when he died, he took in Bruce when he was 16. He is, so far, a single father in this au. (But if I WERE to add martha she wouldn't be sam or a DP character but rather a separate character on her own.)
Essentially they would go as:
Martha, 19: water does terrifying things to corpses
Danny, 19, half ghost: *heart eyes* really? tell me more they're morticia and gomez your honor
---- Like starlight -----
Bruce's father could light up a room. He was like a sun, his gravitational field could just pull you in, and before you knew it you'd be orbiting around him like one of his many planets.
He's seen it in action before, in the rare moments Thomas Wayne would allow him to accompany him to the socialite events he went to; the fundraisers; the charities. Bruce, as tall as his father's waist, would cling to his leg and watch as people drifted towards him and his star-blinding smile.
It's fitting that his father's favorite thing in the world were stars, he fit right in with them.
As an adult, Bruce has tried copious amount of times to mimic him. To try and capture a fraction of that light, that charm, in his own act - but here's the thing. Thomas Wayne wasn't made of starlight only in front of the cameras, he was made of starlight outside of it as well.
(So when older socialites laugh and tell him he's so much like his father, Bruce just thinks they are liars. They've only ever seen the Thomas Wayne his father showed them, Bruce is nothing like his father.)
In the manor, whatever room he stepped into seemed to brighten, and maybe it was just Bruce's own child-memory fuzzing it to raise his father onto a pedestal, but he stands by it. His father was a solar system, his very own galaxy. Bruce was just the lucky planet that was close enough to orbit him.
--------- arrival time ------
Ancients, ancients, what the fuck convinced Danny to ever go to Gotham of all places? Crime Capitol of the world? He's not sure, but he's been wandering around the country for the last few months, swapping between flying late at night as Phantom, and taking the busses and trains when he had the money, and was too exhausted to fly.
And of course, what convinced him to come here with his kid no less, who was just at the cusp of turning a year old? Whose curiosity of the world was growing greater by the day? Who wanted to look around and explore, and was growing tired of being held at all hours of the day by his father.
But he was going to be held, at least for as long as they were in Gotham for. He didn't trust the stuff on the sidewalks, and he didn't trust the people walking on it. Bruce was tiny, and Danny would lose his mind if he lost him in a crowd.
In his arms, Bruce whined and wriggled, pushing at his shoulders in the signature way he did when he wanted to be let down. Danny tightened his hold, and adjusted his place on his hip.
"I know, bumblebee." Danny muttered, resting his chin on Bruce's small head. His hair was still thin, but it was dark and soft, and tickled his throat a little. "But not yet, I need to find somewhere for us to stay first."
He needed to find somewhere for them to stay, permanently. He couldn't keep living like this, and he couldn't let Bruce grow up like this either. Constantly moving, homeless, unsure of when he was going to eat next? It wasn't good for him. But he needed to find a city he liked, and after that? He wasn't sure. Where did he start?
But Bruce doesn't like his answer, he whines at him, louder, and his wriggling increases. He wants down, he wants to move. They were in a new place again, he wanted to explore. He's too little to fully understand what his dad's saying. "Dada." He said, his voice thick with the accent of a child first learning to speak.
"I know," Danny repeats, stressing the word as his eyes flitted about. There was a park nearby -- maybe he and Bruce could stop there for a bit. Bruce could move around, and Danny could figure out his next move.
It was getting dark, he didn't want to be out in Gotham when it was dark. Shuffling, he moved the inside of his jacket to wrap around Bruce better. It was getting cold, too. Last winter with Bruce had been hellish - Bruce's liminality meant that Danny's immunity to the cold hadn't been passed down to him. Danny had spent all winter terrified that Bruce was going to get sick and die. He didn't want to go through that stress again, especially now that Bruce would be moving.
He hoped they could find new living arrangements soon.
---- dniwer eht klolc - clockwork's conversation ---
Laughing quietly as Bruce ran out of the room, Danny turned his attention back to the mirror, his fingers curled around the knot of his tie. They'd been planning this outing for weeks since the movie was first announced, and Danny wasn't going to let anything ruin tonight.
Humming under his breath, his hands fell from his tie and he steps back. They were leaving in half an hour, at best, but experience from the last six years has taught Danny that he wants to be ready before then.
In his reflection, the clock behind him stops ticking, and a wave of nothing washes over him, a subtle shift he's gotten used to that was the sensation of time stopping. Ticking, soft and coming from all four sides of the room, filled his ears.
Danny's smile drops. And behind him, Clockwork swirled into existence like a blackhole reversing its pull. "Don't go out tonight, Thomas." He says, his voice stern.
That wasn't happening.
He reaches up to push back a loose strand of hair out of his face. "Does something happen to Bruce, Clockwork?" He asks, his voice deceptively calm. That would be the only reason he would postpone tonight. If it endangered Bruce, then he would just have to break the news to him that they'd have to go tomorrow.
In the reflection, Clockwork's lips thinned, pressing together tersely. He looked tense, the grip on his staff was tight, tighter than Danny's seen it before in recent years. And it worried him a little.
Clockwork is silent for a few seconds, hesitant, before he finally speaks. "No, Bruce will be fine." He says, and uncharacteristic of him, he shuffles, "But--"
Ah, good then. Danny's smile returns briefly across his face. Then it could be something Danny can handle. "But nothing then, Clockwork." He says, interrupting the Ancient firmly. He leans back slightly to look over himself again in the mirror, before going to undo his tie. He's changed his mind about it.
"Boo has been looking forward to our movie all week, I'm not crushing his hopes by changing my mind last minute." In just a few seconds the tie was off his neck and tossed onto bed behind him. And Danny was reaching over the dresser beside him to grab a pearl necklace, he normally didn't wear it, it belonged to Mrs. Wayne and he inherited it after she and Mr. Wayne passed away last year. It wouldn't hurt to wear it for a special occasion like this.
Clockwork's lips tightened, and his shoulders tensed up. "Thomas," He says lowly, "Please."
...Clockwork never said please. Danny's never heard him say please in the last ten years he's known him. This... must have been pretty serious -- but, his core tugged at him. He couldn't cancel without finding the reason why. Bruce was so important to him, Danny couldn't break his heart with this without learning why. He wouldn't allow it, and neither would his core.
He hooks the necklace around his neck and turns to face Clockwork, frowning deeply. "Does something happen tonight?" If he knew the reason -- he just needed to know the reason.
Clockwork stares at him, and something that Danny can't catch appears across his face. "...I cannot tell you." He says after a long moment, his voice quiet.
That... is not the answer Danny wants. He won't cancel.
He frowns. "If something happens tonight..." He says slowly -- Clockwork said that Bruce is unharmed. That must mean Danny was able to handle it. He allows himself to smile reassuringly, and he steps forward to clap a hand on Clockwork's shoulder. "Then I will handle it, alright? I promise."
He gets no response back. Clockwork's expression unreadable as he nods silently - Danny's anxiety curls in his gut. He's being so unlike himself. But he shakes Clockwork's shoulder gently and steps around him, leaving the room.
After a minute, he feels time return to normal.
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shitpostingkats · 4 months
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Assorted groupchat au headcanons
Yuya is the only one who didn't pick his own screen name. It was a suggestion by the rest of the guys after he couldn't think of one. Eventually, he will change it, and come up with his own nickname.
Jaden can read people's auras/duel monsters energy. Yusaku's is the most calming, being primarily dark and quiet. Yuma's almost hurts him to look at, being complicated and intermingled, like two people standing in the same spot.
Yusei gave Yuma his first driving lessons when he was in Heartland to consult for the Tenjo Corporation.
Yugi has beaten almost all of them in professional duels at some point: him and Yuma met at the second world duel carnival, where he successfully defended his title as king of games. He beat Yuya at a Maiami city exhibition duel, one of Yuya's first duels in the senior division. He won the duel against Jaden we see at the end of GX, and a standing duel against Yusei at Worlds. Him and Yusaku have come to the silent agreement to never duel each other.
Post Jaden finding them in the dark world, Rin and Yugo go to live with Yusei, Yuto and Lulu go to their home dimension, Yuri stays in the world and trains under Jaden, and Celina is adopted by Boyle as a second daughter.
All the yu-bois and the bracelet girls are on a minecraft server together.
Jaden and Yusaku are the only ones in the gc to not hold a regional championship title. However, Playmaker still gets invitations to most digital events as if he were one.
If the standard dimension Jack Atlas and the synchro dimension Jack Atlas ever met, they would try to fight.
Yugi is genuinely friends with Kaiba, who he says "is actually a pretty good guy, deep down."
No one in the gc believes him.
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imdamagecontrol · 5 months
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quite tired of seeing discourse about what is/isn’t “good” writing, considering none of you are correct.
“good” writing is entirely subjective, and if you’re going to discuss why someone’s writing isn’t “good,” you should really have an objective and unanimously agreed upon standard to give your opinion foundation. otherwise you sound like every other person who’s ever thought they knew what they were doing — but didn’t. it’s the blind leading the blind.
let people write freely without critiquing it to a standard you feel it should fit, particularly in fandom where none of it is that serious and we’re all here to have fun.
if you don’t believe something is “good” writing, move along.
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stevethehairington · 5 months
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really fucking sick and tired of people who really fucking love the eddie book jumping on people who don't like or are even remotely critical of it's posts and like crusading their opinions around from the top of their high horses and shoving it down our throats.
if you like the book, great! that's awesome! love that for you! i am genuinely glad that you were able to find good in it and enjoy it!!
but not everyone did, and not everyone is going to agree with you. so, instead of going on some grand crusade where you find every single post that includes anything even remotely negative or negative adjacent or even neutrally critical and spending ALL this time and effort trying to provide unwanted rebuttals to every single thing, maybe you should just stay in your lane and find people who DO like the book and chat about it with them.
because i can PROMISE YOU, none of us appreciate it when you come onto our posts and start accusing us of "hating on" the author or "being rude" about her and her work and RIDICULOUS shit like that.
being critical of something and pointing out it's flaws is NOT inherently hating on it. i, frankly, do not know where people got that notion, but it's not fucking true so can we fucking quit assuming it is? and, critiquing something is also NOT the same as saying this is shit and it sucks and the author is a piece of garbage. again, where the fuck that came from is beyond me. you can be critical of something and still enjoy it. as soooo many of you love to point out, it's not perfect, why should it be perfect? so D U H. of course that means criticism can and should arise???
also. hot take (by which i mean ice fucking cold because it's NOT a fucking hot take), but going around toting FALSE facts as part of your "defense" does not make you or your argument look good. you, like the author, should maybe do a basic fact check first. 🙃
tldr, if you like the book, that's genuinely great, but stay in your fucking lane and stop seeking out posts from people who didn't like it to start shit in the notes.
#flight of icarus#stranger things#this has happened to me and to so many of my friends and im fucking SICK of it#i didn't even hate the book either!! i thought it was just okay#and yet i STILL get all these book lovers jumping down my throat about things i say about the book#things that - HONESTLY are not even like that scathing!!!!!#like god damn all im asking for is a little BASIC effort from the author and they all think thats me asking for her head on a platter#its NOT#i have no problem with the author#she's whatever to me honestly just a vessel through which the book was given to us#ALSO she is some nebulous blob way outside my orbit. AS IN any critiques i have of her and her work are NOT direct assaults on her???#like i dont fucking KNOW her#im not saying any of this to her face#she is a published writer she should KNOW the risks she is taking when she publishes her writing#not everyone is going to like it! there are going to be people who are critical of it! there are going to be people who hate it!#critiques and pointing out mistakes and wishing for things to have been different is not a fucking direct attack#those things are actually pretty fucking common responses to ANYTHING#and a lot of times theyre actually meant as useful helpful things geared towards improvement and not something to tear someone down with#some people on the internet need to go touch grass and learn how to CRITICALLY THINK again#the world is not as black and white as you think#n e ways. rant over. if you stuck around through all of that kudos to you. i am just. at the end of my rope with this bullshit.
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georgieluz · 3 months
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sheriff luz | modern au | 'dearly departed'
george luz lives a quiet life as a local sheriff, but everyone knows that hiding from your past in a small town never ends well
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you and i both know that the house is haunted, and you and i both know that the ghost is me
cowboy collab: #easy ranch #easy company cowboys
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markantonys · 6 months
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physically i'm here, mentally i'm at gawyn's birthday party in caemlyn
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superhell · 1 year
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ok so it’s fully established that house has an incredibly hard time verbalizing his emotions (specifically the positive ones) due to a fear of rejection and a deep deep aversion to displaying vulnerability
which makes the incredibly few times he’s admitted to someone that he cares about them, well, incredible. to list every single time that i can remember off the top of my head here: 
instance one: he tells stacy he loves her directly before he goes into a coma.  the statement itself is undeniably romantic in nature. 
instance two: he tells cuddy he loves her after they hook up and she gives him a whole long speech on how she doesn’t want him to change. this is the culmination of years of dancing around each other. the statement is undeniably romantic in nature. 
instance three: he tells wilson their friendship means more to house than any patient
instance four: he tells wilson he likes him
instance five: i mean i can keep going. there’s wilsons transplant surgery there’s everything with amber theres just so much. anyway
all of which leads me to the conclusion that of the three people house has ever sincerely expressed affection for two of those are people he’s canonically in love with which means that the third one must also be someone he’s [gunshots]
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uplatterme · 11 months
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all out?
—sub!scara/dom!reader, amab!reader | office sex, exhibitionism
—not beta read so excuse some mistakes if there are any TT
honestly, scaramouche should have seen this coming.
he stares at his empty cabinet, dumbfounded that there’s nothing inside it. surely not…
the balladeer wants to scream. just his luck, that it happened today too, when there’s a meeting scheduled that he cannot skip.
“fuck.”
the harbinger walks through the chilling halls of the zapolyarny palace. the cold has never bothered him in any shape or form, yet today proves to be an exception.
there are lower-ranked fatui passing by, hastily running off, not wanting to meet his gaze. an action that he isn’t unfamiliar to.
he hisses and stops when a certain ginger blemishes his view.
“looks like someone’s having a bad day!” he greets.
for a moment there, scaramouche thinks that he’s caught red-handed. not until he realizes that the youngest harbinger couldn’t have possibly seen through his facade.
“you’re deafeningly loud.” he bites back, continuing his steps despite the aching in his lower half.
“ah, still the same as ever. not that im surprised.” he says, chuckling echoing through the halls.
“the meeting’s to start in a few, although the director and the overseer hasn’t arrived yet.” tartaglia informs.
he flushes at the mention of your title, the one behind this problem that he’s facing right now.
“hello?” he calls out.
“can you learn to shut up just at least once?!” he yells.
currently, he sits on the chair provided for him, next to pulcinella and sandrone. as long as he doesn’t get seated next to that blue-haired freak, he considers any situation to be pleasant.
the door opens with a slam and the rest of the harbingers bow their head as greeting. there you stand, that folder you always carry in your arms and a pen between your fingers.
that’s when the memories comes back to him.
flashes of each time you’ve ripped his underwear with those fingers of yours, the scene claws into his brain as he bows down his head in unison with the others.
it was fine the first time. it was only a one-time thing, after all.
oh, how naive he was thinking that.
he then realizes that it wasn’t a one-time thing, seeing as there’s none of them left in his cabinet, forced to attend this meeting with his cock slapping against his thigh each time he walks.
it’s embarrassing. he seethes at your voice, talking about some topic that he couldn’t give a shit about. he adores when your tone is like that, commanding and strict. the more you speak, the more the harbinger wants to cave in.
his cock presses hardly to his shorts, begging for any kind of attention. unfortunately, he’s forced to endure it. to sit there in agony while he stares at you, giving out orders.
oh, how he wishes that you bend him against the table right now.
he can see it visibly twitch from underneath his clothing. if you were to see this, what would you have done? scaramouche’s imagination runs wild, thinking of how you’d make him take your cock. overusing his body and milking him dry. a doll, whose only purpose is to serve you.
“balladeer?” he snaps back to reality, hearing you mention him.
he bites back a needy whine, feeling everyone’s attention now centered on him.
“yeah?” he spit out, his eyes meeting with yours.
“you’ll be sent off to a separate mission, is that all right with you?”
god, you could ask him to do anything and he’d agree.
“sure.”
when the meeting ends, his body was moving on its own, moving towards you to grab you and pinning you to the wall.
“you! you better take care of this!” he shouts.
you were confused at first but it didn’t take you long to see his cock fully outlined through his tight shorts.
“why should i? you’re the one who decided to attend this meeting like that.”
he groans. he does not have the time for any of your teasing right now.
“you kept tearing through—just, ugh!
fuck me already!”
his voice echoes throughout the room. he would have never expected this kind of situation to happen but he needed you so badly. he’s been hot and bothered ever since this morning.
he lets out a relieved groan once he feels his abdomen pressing on the table.
then, next comes the sound of his shorts being ripped apart. he would have complained about your tendency to tear through his clothes but all the complaints in his head goes away once he feels your fingers digging inside of him.
“hnngghh—fuck, finally. only thing you’re fucking good for—oh god!”
“shit, shit, shit!”
his face presses up on his hands, far too drunk as drool goes down his chin. he’s loving each movement inside of him, the satisfaction and pleasure you give are intoxicating him and he wants more.
his body squirms, his feet constantly misplacing themselves on the floor. his dick leaking precum as you stroke it at a pace, leaving him panting and breathing like a dog who had just gone for a run.
“look at you, all loose already…your body’s just made for fucking, isn’t it? always wanting to prove something when you can just show everybody how much of a cumdump you are.”
scara grunts at your insult (praise?), wanting to spit back something to defend himself. but his body is then shifted around, his back laying on the cold table as you took no time in penetrating his hole.
his mouth is left wide open by the stretch. it burns but god, he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the pain. the pain that would soon then transition into pleasure by each. single. thrust.
pounding into him mercilessly, his mouth being covered by his own mouth to desperately hide his cries from enjoying it too much, smiling underneath.
eventually, he just decides to let go. his hands reaching up to fondle his own chest, playing with his nipples while you shape him into your own cocksleeve, his leg up as you wanted better access into fucking him as much as you can.
scara’s so damn loud. of course, he doesn’t notice it. nor does he notice a certain redhead blushing needing to do a double take to see if he’s seeing the right thing.
“f-fill me up! fuck, please!”
“haaah—! more, more!”
after a while, those sentences are no longer coherent as he’s turned to just moaning and whimpering, slurring his words that you can barely understand.
the table is a cum-filled mess, his dick spurting out white as his eyes roll back the furthest they can into his head.
and yet, he doesn’t stop.
even better, he’s started to match your rhythm and grind himself onto you.
there’s a bit of a swelling in his belly from your cum and yet that isn’t seen as a blockade.
each thrust, your cum slipping out of him and back into him and the warm feeling of your stickiness is just enough to send him over the edge.
in the end, he’s left with a satisfied smile. laughing and chuckling while struggling to breathe, his walls aching and not sure if he wants more or to just stop moving for as long as he can.
one thing’s for sure though,
he’s completely forgotten that his shorts are torn apart.
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babooshkart · 2 years
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a saturday kind of love by @nv-md
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padfootastic · 1 year
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if you were to summarise sirius' personality and character traits, how would you do it?
hi hi hi! so sorry for long this took but okay, so, let’s do this.
so, his CORE trait for me will always be loyalty, hands down. i once waxed poetic about sirius’ devotion to the potters to my friends for like, half an hour straight (one of them actually teared up). the way he talks about james even after so many years, how his first instinct is always to look out for harry, how everyone talked about him & j even when they believed he was the traitor—all of it just really drives home how he gives all of himself to someone when he decides to. if someone’s his person then he’ll do whatever it takes for them (if you’re not, tho? ur lucky if u even get a look in ur direction)
he’s also very competent. he was probably brought up as a pampered heir, with access to all the resources his little heart desired, so coupled w his innate ability/potential/aptitude, it becomes a deadly combination. he uses logic to work through things, prides himself on his intelligence, and probably wouldn’t like hanging out with people who can’t atleast match him in some sense (so laziness/incompetence grates badly).
as a corollary, he’s also pretty arrogant, in that casual sense that old money people are ykwim? he’s had the world on a silver platter his entire life, and even when he’s cut off from it, it’s still a part of him. there’s also the fact that he’s got a lot going for him—looks, power, smarts wise—and that just adds to it. so it can be off putting or it can be hot or both, but he has a superiority complex and he doesn’t exactly hide it. less interaction with the plebs, the better for him.
irreverence and dark humor!!! sirius copes using morbid jokes and making people uncomfortable; he has slight control issues and this way, he makes sure everyone’s always on their toes. it’s also like,,,a way to kind of gauge how others will react to him based on how they deal w his humor. bc he’s not sunshine and roses, right? and he doesn’t want anyone treating him like it or expecting him to be so. and in a way, their reactions to his jokes correlated to their degree of acceptance for him.
intense. when it comes to things he likes, he’s very passionate about it, almost with a single minded focus. and it can get A Lot. he operates in a lot of extremes, right? so either 0 or 100 and this comes across in the way he interacts with people, the level of interest he shows to things, and how much effort he puts in, if it’s His Thing, then he won’t leave a stone unturned but if he doesn’t care? then he will not give a single shit
soooo, these are some of the things i very strongly believe in for sirius 🙈 tell me what u think? (and as always, @artemisia-black has some great metas on sirius’ character so i’d recommend checking those out for sure!)
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coffeeghoulie · 5 months
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Kinktober #20: Public Sex/Dry Humping
The Ghostober prompts were put together by @kroas-adtam, and divider made by @gothdaddyissues, thank you both so much!
Pairing: Swiss/Dew
Summary: What happened immediately after the Ritual where Swiss jerked Dew off on stage.
(this was originally going to be a Swiss/Rain fic, but as soon as I picked my jaw up off of the floor after seeing the footage of Swiss jerking Dew off, I rolled out of bed at 2 am and changed the entire outline)
Contains: Trans Swiss, cunt, cock and dick used for what he's working with, degradation, Dew calls Swiss a dog but there's no pet play, the meanest I've ever written Dew
Read under the cut or on AO3!
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"What the fuck is your problem?" Dew growls, pulling Swiss aside in a long, quiet hallway backstage. "You are out of fucking control, asshole."
Swiss grins, and it's all that Dew can see, the tinted lenses, hard plastic, and grease paint blocking out the rest of his expression. "Thought you liked it when I bite you, when I touch you."
"Not while I'm playing, jackass!" Dew snaps, acrid smog billowing out from under his balaclava as he blows smoke, the way the clouds of stolen vape hits do. "Not while there are cameras, and thousands of people watching you fucking jerk me off!"
"Oh, spitfire," Swiss hums, still grinning like a fool as he crowds Dew against the cinderblock wall. "I could feel you," he laughs. "I felt your little dick get hard, don't tell me you didn't like it."
Dew snarls, grabbing Swiss by the vest with both hands, spinning them around and slamming Swiss into the wall, the back of his mask thudding against the brick. Dew hopes it scuffs, gets Swiss in even more trouble with Papa about how many times he's broken the damn thing. Swiss grunts, the air leaving his lungs. All Dew can smell is the spiced scent of Swiss's arousal, and he can't lie and say that it doesn't make him feel crazy.
"You fucking shut up. You need to be put in your place," Dew snarls, shoving a skinny thigh in between Swiss's, pressing hard into his clothed cunt. "You wanna fuck with me so badly? You want to play dirty where anyone can see? Come on, I know you wanna hump my thigh like a dog, Swiss."
Swiss snaps his teeth, snarling as he shoves at Dew's shoulders. They both know that Swiss is strong enough to break free if he really wants to, and Dew cocks his head, shoving his thigh harder against Swiss's jeans.
"Oh, you do want it," Dew coos condescendingly. "Be grateful I'm even giving you my thigh, Swiss. Go ahead, sweetheart. I know you want to."
Swiss growls, but grinds his hips against Dew's thigh the same way he violates his mic stand. Dew grins, his smile pulling at the balaclava he hasn't yet pulled down.
"Oh good boy," he says, still pushing Swiss hard into the wall by his vest. "So needy you'll take what you can get out in the open, where anyone can walk in on you, so they can see just how much of a desperate whore you are."
Swiss drops his head, letting the plastic of his mask click and scrape against Dew's. He mouths at Dew's shoulder, not unlike the way he did on stage. Nothing was ever hard enough to leave a mark. Swiss moans into the velvet, pulling at the fabric with his teeth as he ruts against Dew's thigh.
"Needy fucking dog," Dew groans into the side of Swiss's mask, feeling the warmth of his cunt even through both pairs of their jeans. "Can't keep his hands to himself to save his life. So desperate to get pushed around and used. Don't think I don't see the way you let Aurora put you on your knees."
Swiss whines, hips stuttering. Dew laughs, letting go of Swiss's vest and wrapping his fingers around his belt. "Come on, puppy, grind like you fucking mean it. You don't really want to be caught, do you?" He questions, pulling and pushing his hips using his belt as leverage. "I'm being so generous, Swiss, giving you my thigh. Fucking hump it."
Swiss gasps, fingers curling around Dew's waist as he tries to hang on, Dew dragging his cunt over his thigh. He moans, high and reedy, as his dick catches on the seam of his jeans, the friction making his vision flash white.
"Dew," he whimpers, head falling back with a clunk against the wall. "Fuck, Dew, please, need more."
Dew tsks, continuing to move Swiss's limber hips up and down his thigh. "I told you, puppy, my thigh is all you're getting from me. This is still punishment for you groping me on stage."
"Sorry," Swiss groans, arching up off of the wall as he continues to grind. "Dewey, I'm sorry-"
"We both know you're not sorry," Dew says, scoffing. "We both know this will happen again. You'll get needy, so desperate for attention you'll come up off of that stage and grope one of us, or you'll get on your knees for Rainy again, or you'll pretend to eat Rory out again. She's too good to you, puppy. She plays along with your bullshit. Such a good girl, unlike you."
"I can be good," Swiss whines, hips still mindlessly searching for friction. He gasps as his cock catches on the seam of his pants just right again. "Dew, I can be good."
Dew shakes his head. "Not today, you couldn't. You naughty fucking slut."
Swiss keens, hips stuttering against Dew's thigh, the degradation enough to send him crashing over the edge. He cums with a shout, muffling it into Dew's shoulder, smearing grease paint against the velvet of his vest.
Dew works him through it, grinding his thigh into Swiss's cunt until his knees start to shake, feeling the warmth and wet stain his jeans. Even though they'll be laundered before the next Ritual, it's hard to get the scent of slick out of the denim, and Dew will have to smell it, relieve these memories. He takes a step back, letting go and shoving Swiss's hands from his waist. Without Dew's support, his knees give out, and he slides down the cinderblock wall into a panting heap.
He cocks his head, staring down at the mess of a multi-ghoul. "You gonna behave now, dog?"
Swiss pants, leaning his head back against the wall, body still trembling. His fingers clench and unclench. "Fuck," he breathes, eyes closed behind the lenses of his mask. "Dew?"
Dew leans over, taking advantage of the rare height difference reversal. "I asked you a question, Swiss. Answer me."
He keens, slumping down further against the wall. "If this is what I get when I grope you on stage, I might just keep doing it," he laughs, chest heaving.
Dew scoffs, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in defeat. "You're insatiable. We need to be on the bus in fifteen. I expect I'll see you there on time."
The fire ghoul storms away, leaving Swiss on the floor in some hallway backstage, laughing under his breath.
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unnamed, a recourse
You call him dear and he agrees to it without hesitation.
It takes a few seconds for him to realise what he’s done. But it’s too late—his mouth is already running off—he’s asking you for nicknames. 
A sly grin breaks out onto your face. You’ve caught him off-guard and you’ll take as much as you can get.
You suggest things like darling, honey, sweetie, beloved and all those affectionate pet names lovers share (which the two of you are most definitely not… Yet. Argh! Focus!), and he says yes to every single one of them because he’s a fool digging his own grave; but the most damning one of them all, the one that nearly sends him reeling, fevers his face profusely to the point of dizziness, and makes him want to choke you just to get you to shut up and stop teasing him (because that’s all this is to you, isn’t it? Some game to toy with him!), the last of your exhaustive list is: my heart.
All the thoughts in his head stop like waves crashing against rock.
Your grin, which he previously thought malicious, over the course of the conversation, has become a small, fond smile.
“Is that alright?” you ask. You lean in close and whisper into his ear, “My dear heart.”
Of course, he silently agrees, anything for you. Anything for you. And then he shoves you off him and stalks away. He half-remembered the presence of Paimon and Lesser Lord Kusanali but he can feel their eyes boring into his back all the more now. You were too close for comfort just then. If he had let you linger in his space any longer, he might have… might have… 
How embarrassing.
You’re foolish to ignore the signs—or perhaps you’re pretending not to notice for his sake? What with his newfound freedom and autonomy—of what magnitude a scale his feelings for you are.
(Wouldn’t that be nice. A pair of fools. A wanderer and a traveller. How perfect.)
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buggyintheflesh · 4 months
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woke up today and thought 'one of them's gonna die' thinking about the straw hats, and it's been eating away at my brain ever since because first of all what the fuck, i get the wake up thinking about one piece go to sleep thinking about one piece grind but i did not need that first thing in the morning. but more importantly, yeah i think one of them is dying, maybe not before laugh tale (although you never fucking know at this point) but within the present storyline. there's going to be one dream that never gets accomplished, one more loss. and there's the easy yeah obviously luffy is dying argument but that's not what i'm talking about because it would definitely be poetic justice for luffy to die just like roger did i get that, but i mean someone else in the crew.
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