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#he does but he writes so aggressively it comes out illegible
toughbunnyforever · 20 days
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maybe try writing him a note next time idk
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laurasimonsdaughter · 20 days
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Dear Domestic Dragons Trust, I’m writing about my recent experiences with my new “pocket dragon”. Which I’m starting to suspect might not be one.
About six months ago I acquired my dragon after years of wanting and saving for one. He’s a male with scarlet red scales, blue highlights and large pointed horns. The breeder at the time seemed reputable and had official paperwork for him upon purchase. He’s been a darling little menace so far, but I’ve been noticing some very bizarre traits of his that don’t add up. First off, he’s Huge! He’s almost quadrupled in size since I got him and his growth is not slowing down. He’s refuses to eat any fruit or cream, only wanting meat and poultry (which he incinerates upon receiving). He’s much more aggressive about his hoard and especially gold, to the point I need welding equipment to separate things from him he’s not supposed to have.
Did I get some bizarre off breed of pocket dragon, or is he something else I need to be concerned about. I love the little guy dearly either way but I’d like to know if he really is a pocket dragon or not?
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Hello,
I'm afraid it does sound like your dragon might be a crossbreed. This does happen sometimes, even with breeders who are careful, because dragons are quite crafty and wild dragons do still roam about in some places. It sounds like your dragon might be half firedrake.
We recommend going back to the breeder and asking for their help. If they care about their reputation at all, they will be willing to help you figure out how this could have happened. Knowing what type of crossbreed your dragon can help provide you with the necessary information to keep taking care of them.
It's not illegal to keep a crossbreed dragon like this, but unlike pocket dragons you do need a liscence for them, and you can only keep them in urban areas under the following conditions:
The dragon has been treated with a fire safety spell.
The dragon is no larger than a horse.
The dragon has been (magically) chipped.
Of course you'll also need to be able to house and feed him, which can certainly be a challenge for bigger dragons. If it turns out keeping him at your home is too difficult or too risky, you could house him at a Magical Menagerie, but renting a stable or kennel there can be very expensive.
If worst comes to worst you can bring him to us and we can figure out how to house him at one of our locations. Hopefully close enough for you to come visit and possible train with him!
Best of luck,
~ The Domestic Dragon Trust
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midnights-dragon · 5 months
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Nightingale's Lament (Azricrow s3 speculation ficlet, 1.8k)
Crowley has to drive Aziraphale somewhere in the Bentley. They aren't talking. The Bentley is not going to stand for that.
I love the forced proximity trope, and by Neil’s ‘they aren’t talking’, it seems that that may be where we’re headed. And so I raise to you, a thought I had while driving and pulled over to write out. Obviously I've just gone completely insane over that one (1) thing Neil Gaimen said, as well as the s3 confirmation, so enjoy this brain-child one-shot that I had WHILE DRIVING and PULLED OVER MY FUCKING CAR to write it on my phone. Comments very appreciaciated for my own sanity as I am sacrificing the studying I should be doing for my final exams tomorrow in order to obsess over these tragic little gay men (gn). [Ao3 link if you'd prefer]
Crowley, as unfortunate as he may find it, had been tasked with driving himself as well as Aziraphale to someplace in Scotland. It's where the Second Coming is meant to happen, eventually, and so they're meant to be scouring out the lay of the land.
He also suspects that it's a ploy from Nina and Maggie, as well as Muriel, to force him and Aziraphale to work together with just the two of them. And to that he says, the three of them underestimate how stubborn he and Aziraphale can be.
Crowley storms from the bookshop (where most of their planning has been taking place, especially since it's conveniently close to the elevator to Heaven, where Aziraphale has to return, sometimes; he hates it, Crowley can tell, not that he would ever care, right?) and, with a sneer that he slips on as a mask to cover the real emotion stretched across his face, he yanks open the door to the backseat.
He tells the angel to sit there, more or less. Not with his words, but rather, with glares out of the corner of his eye beneath his sunglasses that he never takes off; with a flourish of his hand and a wave of dark-painted fingernails in Aziraphale's reddened face; with the way he blocks the passenger's side door with his lean frame, and clearly jabs his thumb towards the back.
You've lost your place at my side, he seems to say, even if he is not talking aloud, even if he does not look at Aziraphale as the angel obeys the silent command and slips into the backseat of the Bentley. He doesn't mean it, not really. What he means to say is, I want you to sit beside me, but I don't know what I would do if you did. What he means to say is, I can't control myself, being so close to you, being alone. What he means to say is, I need to keep up with this not talking, because if I don't, if we don't, then I don't know how I could bear it.
But he doesn't say any of those things, and Aziraphale does not hear them. They aren't talking. Sometimes they'll speak (usually in gestures, rather than words), but even when they do, they aren't looking at each other. They aren't talking.
Crowley gets into the driver's seat and is silent. He says nothing. He throws the car into drive more aggressively than necessary, and almost feels bad about it, but doesn't, when he catches the flash of white that is Aziraphale adjusting himself for Crowley 'going too fast for him' in the rear-view mirror. The demon growls a little, grinding his back teeth together, and then speeds down the streets of Soho until he makes it to a winding back road that will take them to their destination.
They aren't talking. The car is silent.
As it happens, the car does not appreciate that.
As Crowley turns down the road at a speed that is very illegal, the Bentley jolts, and the demon suddenly finds himself unable to pass forty on the speedometer. He blinks, slow and confused, and his eyes are smoldering behind his sunglasses.
"The fuck?" He growls, low and rumbling, and he smacks at the dashboard repeatedly, pressing his foot down all the way as he bares his teeth and hisses at his car. In the backseat, Aziraphale flinches at the sound of the demon's voice — it is raspy and gravelly, almost smoky with how unused it has become, how deadened.
The Bentley hums (cars couldn't sound smug, logically, but it was a very near thing), seemingly unconcerned with Crowley's frustration that is rapidly accelerating into rage, and then begins to softly croon a gentle ballad of a song from the stereo, the peaceful sound of it filling the silence of the car with a song that both Crowley and Aziraphale recognize all too well from countless nights out at the Ritz together.
There was magic abroad in the air There were angels dining at the Ritz And a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square . . .
In the rear-view mirror, behind his sunglasses, Crowley's gaze flits to Aziraphale despite himself — only for a moment, but a moment that says enough. Aziraphale is frozen, and his own eyes are shining brightly with things left unsaid. His eyes — his eyes — his eyes that are violet. 
His violet eyes, which yanks Crowley out of whatever stupor he was in. His violet eyes, because he had made his choice, and it wasn't Crowley. His violet eyes, because he was sitting in the backseat for a reason, and they weren't talking, and Aziraphale never even looked at him anymore, which was a relief, honestly, because Crowley didn't know if he could take looking into those goddamn fucking violet eyes for a moment longer.
Crowley slams down hard on the brakes and rips the keys from the ignition, his chest heaving, his hands shaking. A car behind him blares its horn and swerves around him (thanks to a well-placed miracle from Aziraphale, not that Crowley would ever admit it). Crowley flips them the bird, uncaring and angry, and grieving and hurt and not wanting to listen to the goddamn fucking song for a moment longer, not wanting to see Aziraphale's goddamn fucking violet eyes in his fucking rear-view mirror for any second more. He slams his hand down on the dashboard, again and again and again, over and over, his claws digging into the leather, his eyes squeezing shut and a pained, strangled noise clawing its way up his throat as he slams his palm down, again and again and again.
He is grieving, and he is hurting, and he is angry.
Behind him, Aziraphale is looking away, his goddamn fucking violet eyes welled up with tears not unsimilar to the ones in Crowley's serpentine gaze, white sclera swallowed up by yellow. Aziraphale is looking away, and he is not talking, because he never looks at Crowley anymore, never talks to Crowley anymore, and Crowley both is grateful to him for it and hates him for it, because he wouldn't be able to bear it, but god, he wants to.
Crowley grieves, and hurts, and rages, and Aziraphale cries silently, and does not speak, does not look — and still, their song continues to play defiantly on.
The streets of town were paved with stars It was such a romantic affair And when you turned and smiled at me A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square . . .
"I'm — I'm — I'm not fucking doing this right now," Crowley snarls at his car, hissing between his teeth, blinking hard and fast and willing the tears culminating and burning at his cheeks to just fucking leave him the fuck alone. The Bentley simply hums her engine (despite the keys being gripped in one of Crowley's hands, decidedly not in the ignition, why the fuck did he make her sentient, again?), and the music becomes impossibly louder, and Crowley thinks he could cry, but he cannot, he must not, because — because he couldn't do that now, he couldn't, couldn't bear it, couldn't take it —
I still remember when you smiled and said Was that a dream or was it true? —
And then, above it all, by some cocktail party effect bullshit, because the car was practically screaming with that fucking song —
"Crowley."
Aziraphale said his name. Aziraphale said his name, and Aziraphale is looking at him, and Aziraphale is talking to him, and Crowley had sworn he wouldn't look back, wouldn't talk back, couldn't and mustn't and every other thing in the goddamn world, but fuck, he couldn't take it.
Crowley's gaze flits back to the rear-view mirror, and he thinks that he might choke when he sees the raw grief in Aziraphale's eyes — his violet eyes, he reminds himself, his violet eyes, but — but he can't bring himself to even care, because it's Aziraphale, and he's looking at him, even though they're both grieving, and angry, and afraid.
"Don't — don't be too angry with her, my dear," Aziraphale whispers, and he's still looking at Crowley, still talking to him, and the words my dear seemed to reverberate around the sudden quietness of the car, because Crowley could hear nothing, see nothing, but Aziraphale, who was looking at him, and talking to him. "Or, erm, try not to, I suppose." Aziraphale was wringing his hands together, and his gaze had gone downcast, but he was still talking. "She's — well, she's only trying to help, after all. Only trying to — to make things good, yes?"
Crowley opens his mouth to speak, and chokes on his words. A horribly strangled noise rasps its way from his throat, and he does look away, then, forcing himself to because he can't bear it, and he rests his forehead against the wheel of his car. He's shaking.
He's so tired.
He's grieving, and he's angry, and he's afraid, and he's so goddamn tired.
"I know," Crowley whispers at last, his voice broken like gravel, shattered like glass. He doesn't bother fighting the small, strangled sound that comes out as a whimper and spills from his trembling lips. "I know."
He leans down, and twists the key back into the ignition.
The engine hums appreciatively, and the song continues to play, looping back from the beginning.
That certain night The night we met There was magic abroad in the air . . .
Crowley lifts his head, lifts his deadened, dull gaze, and allows himself one sinful glance back at Aziraphale. The angel isn't looking at him anymore; he's staring down at his hands, and his violet eyes have welled up with tears that cast a pale sheen and makes them look almost blue, and he looks so tired. He looks like he is, just as Crowley is, grieving, and angry, and hurting, and so, so goddamn tired, in every sense of the word.
Crowley sighs. It's an exhausted, broken sound, and it speaks more than he could say in a thousand words of finest poetry.
"I know," he repeats, and he isn't talking about his car.
And then he leans back, and gently presses down on the gas, and continues to drive with Aziraphale sitting in the backseat, their song playing softly over the stereo. They don't talk to each other, and they don't look at each other. But that one single moment with their song, the acknowledgement of a nightingale, of their nightingale, of what their nightingale represented, even with so few words, it — it meant something.
It meant that perhaps, one day, they would be able to rest. Together. Past their grief, and anger, and fear, and hurt, and exhaustion; finding peace, and home, and love, in each other's arms.
And perhaps, as they rested, a nightingale would sing faintly in the distance. They wouldn't hear it, and nobody would know. But it would be there, all the same.
But for now, they did not speak, and they did not acknowledge anything past the nightingale, and for now — until they could rest with peace, with each other, with their love — that would have to be enough.
I may be right, I may be wrong But I'm perfectly willing to swear That when you turned and smiled at me A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.
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hurlumerlu · 5 months
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I find it quite simple
a little Not Me fic about Gumpa and Black (sort of) bonding over being older siblings :
It was an evening like many others. Yok and Gram had already left, Sean with one of them, or both of them, or off to one of Namo’s haunts, leaving Gumpa to clean the table like a dissatisfied housewife. Except this time, Black was still here.
"These fuckers, I swear," he said, contemplating the wasteland of dirty plates and empty bottles, unlit cigarette already firmly in mouth. "This is how you can tell they’re all only children."
Gumpa almost pointed out that Black generally didn’t stick around to help either, but decided against it : the kid talking about anything else than their next move was a rare enough occurrence. Better not nip it in the bud.
"I don’t know about that," he mused instead. "My younger brother has three siblings and I don’t think he’s picked up after himself even once in his life."
"That’s what elder siblings are for."
"Ha ! Good thing my sisters didn’t see it that way. I would have gone mad, always taking care of a four-people mess all by myself."
"Aren’t you taking care of a five-people mess right now ?"
"You’re helping me, aren’t you ?"
Black snorted. They’d brought the dishes to the courtyard and set out to clean them. "So, you’re the eldest of four ?"
"Two sisters, one brother. You ?"
"Eldest too, by an hour. He took his sweet time."
"A twin ?"
"You think ?"
"Okay, smartass." He flicked water at him. Black rolled his eyes, but said nothing. The heat of the day had lessened, and the night air was companionably warm – the silence too.
It remained that way until they were back inside, cigarette smoked, dishes stored, table wiped, and Gumpa took two beers from the fridge.
"About what we do," asked Black. "Do your siblings know ?"
Gumpa opened his bottle and swallowed a mouthfull. It gave him some time. "No. No one does. A few years ago, my sister – the oldest – was arrested for helping women get illegal abortions." He tensed despite himself, bracing for the usual comments and questions, but Black didn’t talk. He just kept looking at him with the aggressive focus typically reserved for their plans. "As you can guess, this was a pretty hard time for the family. Harder for her, of course, she’s not done building herself back up, but – if I can save my parents some worries over another child… I have to try, at least."
"But you didn’t tel your sister either. The oldest, I mean."
"Nah." He couldn’t help but smile.  "She’d try to help."
To his surprise, Black was smiling too, and raised his beer in an I’ll-drink-to-that gesture. It seemed as good a time as any to pry.
"And your brother, does he know ?"
The smile vanished like it’d never been there.
"We were separated," Black said, after a long enough moment that Gumpa had wondered if the conversation was over. "When our parents divorced.  Father took one, Mom the other. I tried to write, but I assume they intercepted my letters – don’t ask me why, I won’t answer. And don’t tell me that’s fucked up because I already know."
What was there to reply to that ? Gumpa took another beer and held it out. Black nodded curtly.
"I don’t want him anywhere near all that anyway. He’s not like me, he’s..." He gave a vague handwave, leaving it for Gumpa to figure out. Softer. Fragile. Better, maybe, as in worth more. "It’s ugly here, and it’s only gonna get worse."
There they were.
"Things getting worse, is that why you didn’t leave tonight ?"
"Nothing gets past you."
"Come on, Black."
"My roommate, my – the guy I’m crashing at, I told you about him."
"Todd."
"Hmm. He’s more crooked than I believed, I think. Or exactly as much, but I’m only facing it now."
"Black..."
"I don’t need comfort. I don’t need your input at all. I’ll deal with him if I have to, and that’s the end of it. Understood ?"
"Normally I’d tell you off for bossing me around under my roof, but you get a pass this time. Understood, I won’t meddle."
"Thanks."
"Don’t make me regret it."
"Oh, piss off."
The impulse came, unexpected : to ruffle the younger man’s hair, give him an embarassing hug. He didn’t indulge. They weren’t brothers.
"Gumpa ?"
"Yes ?"
"Can I stay here tonight ? I’ll sleep on the couch, and I’ll be gone first thing in the morning."
You can stay as long as you need, he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure it would be well received.
"Sean might not even come back tonight. You could sleep in his bed."
"I’d rather gouge my eyes out," replied Black quite genially, and they went back to their drink.
"I met your brother the other day."
Black, of course, doesn’t answer.
"Kid just showed up at your uni, all dressed like you and ready to poke his nose into everything. He’s in over his head, and scared shitless, but he holds on for your sake. You should be proud."
Gumpa sighs. He can’t stay long – it was a bad idea, coming here, but he had to.
"I don’t know who told him about you. And I don’t know how to convince him to trust us. But I’ll look after him, you have my word. I’m trying to make him stay at the garage. Let’s hope he’s less of a loner than you."
He rises. There is nothing more to say, nothing more to do. No point in ruminating his failures. He still looks back before he lets the curtain drop.
"If he does take me up on the offer," he says. "I’ll make him room with Sean. With any luck, that’ll piss you off enough fo you to wake up."
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prpfs · 3 months
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ೃ༄ MUN INTRO
╰┈➤ Hello! My name is Mel, I’m 20 years old, my pronouns are he/thy, and my timezone is GMT. I am a full-time student in my last semester of undergrad, and also currently in the process of planning to pursue a doctoral program in my field of study! I am currently in search of a new thread or a few, after taking a decently long hiatus from writing; I’d love to get back into the swing of things.
ೃ༄ RULES
╰┈➤ I have some pretty basic/self-explanatory rules and boundaries, when it comes to writing with me. They are as follows:
Please be 20+ to write with me. I only prefer to write with people very close to my age, or older than me. This is a hard requirement.
Please do not pester me for a reply if it has been less than a day or two’s time, or become passive aggressive about it; just talk to me if you have a question regarding timeliness. It’s completely fine to check in, but I have a very active life outside of the internet, so it may take me a handful of days at times to get a lengthier reply sent. That being said, if it has been 4+ days, do ping me! I also tend to be forgetful at times.
I am completely fine with any length, when it comes to writing style; I do not write with people who use asterisks, but, as for how long replies are—let me know what you’re feeling, and I’m happy to match it!
I do not, and will not ever, write any content that is illegal or morally questionable; very specifically speaking, I will not write topics that involve ||pedophilia, or incest.|| This is non-negotiable.
Please feel free to contribute any and all ideas you may have, when coming up with a plot with me! I absolutely love witnessing other people’s creative prowess in action, so don’t be shy!
I am completely fine with nsfw themes, but typically prefer to have some build-up beforehand. I am also okay with simply fading to black, or avoiding nsfw topics altogether—just let me know what you’re comfortable with, too, and that’s great with me! I write all of my characters as switches, and prefer to write with somebody who does similarly in regard to nsfw content.
ೃ༄ MUSES
╰┈➤ I have a couple of muses, but the ones that I am partial to penning are italicized:
Zhongli/Morax.
Kaveh.
Alhaitham
Diluc Ragnvindr.
Kaeya Alberich.
Cyno.
Tighnari.
Arataki Itto.
Wriotheseley.
Baizhu.
Neuvillette.
ೃ༄ PAIRINGS
╰┈➤ Honestly, I am an absolute sucker for rarepairs. I am happy to make any ship work, so long as both of us are passionate about our muses! Throw your wildest ideas at me, and I’ll eat it up every time (so long as they’re morally fine) LOL. That being said, romance is definitely not a necessity within our thread if you don’t want it to be.
I do personally have some favorite pairings, which are:
Kavetham
Dottozhu
Cynari
Kaveh/Childe
TartaLi/Zhongchi
Chiluc
ೃ༄ THEMES/AUS I AM SEARCHING FOR
╰┈➤ I love canon compliant threads just as much as I love ones that center around AUs, so feel free to reach out if either of those sound appealing to you more generally. More specifically speaking, however, I am in search of threads that incorporate one or some of these sorts of themes and/or AUs:
• ROYAL AU
Suspense
Horror/Psychological Horror
Surrealism
Scream AU (or any sort of other horror movie/slasher flick au tbh‼️)
80’s AU
╰┈➤ If any of this seems appealing to you, don’t hesitate to reach out on tumblr or discord, my discord is dottozhuu and I’ll respond and/or via messaging ASAP. Thank you!
discord: dottozhuu
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lani-heart · 6 months
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WHICH ONE DO YOU GUYS PERFER?
original:
“But I really don’t want to get a hybrid right now” I said and Eunchae smiled “Of course you do! Come in y/n you’ve been lonely in that huge apartment of yours since forever!” She said and I sighed
She was right… I recently broke up with my ex and am here I was at a hybrid facility
“Come on, it can be platonic but give it a chance?” She asked and I sighed while agreeing
A worker offered assistance where I didn’t find a hybrid that caught my eye until I found myself wandering on my own…
I saw a black tail coming out from above seeing the male on top of the playground looking at the ceiling of this place…
“Hello?” I said and he didn’t flinch
“His name is San, he’s a troublemaker and not recommended for adoption I apologize” an employee said and the boy was now looking at me
I almost saw desperation in his eyes…
“Can I meet him?” I asked and the employee was almost dumbfounded “Ma’m he came from an illegal hybrid ring I don’t recommend adoption on him” he said and I sighed
“I just want to meet him” I said and the employee nodded as he signaled the hybrid to come over which he did reluctantly…
“This is a button for his collar… the dangerous hybrids are given shock collars and you’ll have someone supervising from a far is anything goes wrong” he said and I nodded as he left
“Hi im y/n” I said with a smile and his ears twitched, almost looking nervous… “What kind of hybrid are you?” I asked and he tensed up
“AH I asked a sensitive question didn’t I?! I’m sorry!” I yelled as I bowed and he looked at me confused
“I know your name is San… it’s a pretty name” I said and he nodded
“How long have you been here?” I asked and he sighed “2 years now” he said and I smiled softly “Why don’t you try getting the attention of other people?” I asked and he looked down
“I'm not recommended to be adopted… I’m also a lot older than many people get” he confessed and I nodded
Younger hybrids were sought after and with how the employee exaggerated him not being adopted I understand why he was still here
“Well how old are you?” I asked and he sighed “23” he answered “Ah I’m 22” I answered and he looked away
“Did you ever want to get adopted?” I asked and he looked down as he nodded
“Choi San it’s time for your vital check ups” I heard as I saw the same employee come to collect San
“It was nice meeting you” I said but he didn’t say anything and the employee soon approached me “Was he in any way violent or aggressive?” he asked and I shook my head “I was actually wondering what was gonna happen to him?” I asked and he sighed… “Well when we came in he was very violent and aggressive and he tends to still have triggers that may harm the employees and even potential people who are looking for adopting so he might get sent to a breeders farm since he’s an exotic hybrid – “ he was an exotic hybrid? “-- or euthanized since he does have a bad history” he explained and I felt heartbroken… “w-what?” I asked in disbelief and he sighed
“Well he is a danger to people around him” he explained and i shook my head “I’ll adopt him!” I said and he looked shocked “Look I get some people come in and want to help a hybrid who is getting euthanized but –” “No he deserves a second chance… he was in no way aggressive he was shy and he looked like he wanted to leave this place… no offense” I said and he chuckled…
“May I ask what you do for a living?” he asked and I chuckled… “Uhm… I actually write books” I confessed and he nodded “It's pretty tame to eb adopting a hybrid like him are you sure?” he asked and I nodded.
So I ended up with a contract a t hand claiming San as my hybrid.
Rework:
“Eunchae, I really don’t think I could take care of a hybrid” I sulked in her car and she sighed.
“After your breakup you’ve been down. Hybrids can give you company, a platonic relationship.” She begged as she was now trying to convince me to get out the car and into the hybrid facility.
“Everyone is worried for you. You’re at a writers block, that bastard broke up with you, and you’re alone. Yuta and Shotaro are especially worried about you please?” She begged and I decided to follow her.
I wandered away from her to look at the different hybrids. I missed the cute little fox hybrid I used to know.
I guess foxes are similar to cats… despite being canines.
I saw the feline hybrids… I didn’t even know how far I wandered until I saw a black tail tucked behind a bush.
Were they hiding?
I suddenly saw the black cat ears go up and I saw it was a man. He was older than what most people go for… but he was so pretty.
“Hello?” I said in awe of the male who turned to me. I now saw his face… he was such a pretty hybrid.
He looked at me indifferently. “His name is San. He is not available for adoption” I heard as I saw behind me. “Why?” I asked and the employee looked annoyed.
“You’re at the red code hybrids miss” they said and I didn’t notice. “What will happen to him?” I asked and they sighed.
“It’s being decided. San has good genes so maybe a farm but he’s far too aggressive to be considered so he might be seeing a euthanizing” they said and I felt my heart break.
How could a hybrid as pretty as him ever be considered to die?
“I heard you can get a red hybrid if you have a hybrid facilitation seal?” I said and they nodded.
I pulled out my license to approach such coded hybrids up to red. The only ones I can’t see are black coded hybrids.
“Miss, you should know he came from the illegal hybrid fights that were caught as of a few weeks ago” they said and that made me feel worse.
I could help him… but why did I want to?
“I’ll take him,” I said and they nodded.
“I’ll get you the paperwork if you’d like to get to know each other” they said as they were now home leaving me alone with the hybrid who looked at me confused.
“I’m y/n… they told me your name is San?” I asked as I encouraged him to get near the glass.
He looked confused and nervous. “You’re a very pretty hybrid.” I said and he looked flustered as he looked away from me.
His pitch black ears twitching.
“You’ll be coming home with me” I said and he scoffed. “That won’t last, '' he muttered.
I sighed, illegal hybrid ring.
“I’ll make sure you’re safe. You’ll never have to fight anyone ever again” I said and he looked at me with widened eyes. Almost hopeful…
“Why would you want me? I’ve killed hybrids, I’m too old, I’m not the cute little cat hybrid you could have” he said annoyed with me? It sounded almost like he was irritated with himself.
“I’ll dedicate myself in making you happy”
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annieqattheperipheral · 8 months
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Once upon a time my cousin was stressed n overworked so to cheer her up i sent her some crosby pics, as one does in proper society:
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which resulted in me accidentally writing an entire sidnate hrpf AU for her to come enjoy between excel spreadsheets or whatever she does. inspired solely by the gifs that came up in whatsapp's gif search for sidney crosby, i present to you, coming soon to the hallmark network:
Royal Hockey Love
chapter one
[cousin's msgs in italics]
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This pic has Royal Prince vibes. He's the secret, legitimate heir to some European throne. But he'd rather hold a hockey stick than a royal sceptor.
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The end scene when his country's ppl have finally accepted him by attending his exhibition game in his home country (he had run off to play in the NHL in North America)
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When he spots his father the king amidst an escort of royal guards at one of his games (he's just had a fight, so he's especially sweaty, disgruntled and his helmet is off). They've found him and come to take him home
Oh my god. Yes. Yes!!! This. His adrenaline is running high. His father demands an audience just as he's kicked out of the game. Another ugly confrontation between father and son
His father takes a cheap shot about how he's not even a good enough player if he got kicked out of the game. Maybe on second thought, the kingdom deserves a leader with a cool head and not one to lose their shit after taking one too many pucks to the head.
This is when Prince Crosby goes deadly quiet and still. And shows his father how calm he can be
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Artsy shot to embody the weight on this Prince's shoulders, thanks to the cinematographer trying to give this Hallmark flick a leg up
Also, this should be illegal based on all of my illicit thoughts and feelings
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First scene of the movie. Him in Schluxemburg or whatever made-up European country. Him as a young'un, his driver/chaperone telling his young charge they have to leave his hockey practice earlier than expected because he has Royal duties to get to, as per his father the King's demands
I need to go back to work, but this Royal Hockey fantasy is all I'll be thinking about
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An NHL scout approaches him through his junior league coach. His disbelief, his "wait, could i go live my life for myself and not my father and country? No... Wait, could i do this?!"
Me screaming at the tv: GO FOLLOW YOUR HEART PRINCE CROSBY 🤩🤩🤩🤩
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It's been going well with his new team but he's been getting sus vibes. Are his father and Royal Guards onto him?
Ooooh, is there a secret bodyguard in the stands, watching his every move???
The. Pressure. Is. Building. (Cinematographer at it again. Everyone at Hallmark is patting themselves on the back for throwing a bit more money at this production)
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Rival captain is from his home country Schluxemburg and has recognized it's him (he's been going by his mother's maiden name, which is still a big deal name). There's a bit of petty on-ice back n forth after the rival confronts him during warmups with a smirk and subtle threat to out him/get in touch with the Royal Guards (his uncle is one)
But the Rival Captain is not a real enemy. He's conflicted. He wants to be the best hockey player from Schluxemburg, but he can only be the best if he plays the best.
One of the many great sportsmanship lessons in this beautiful biopic
Surprise twist, the Rival Captain is also a secret agent for the Royal Guards. Prince Crosby soon realizes that the rival captain loves to prank him, but he's never violent or aggressive
What's the rival captain's name again. I remember he comes from a distinguished family
MacKinnon of course
Oh of course!! Yes the house of Kinnon
chapter two
[apologies for using a giroux gif then switching to natemac but when inspiration hits w sidnate gifs u gotta go w it]
12 notes · View notes
l-eternity-l · 1 year
Text
- Loving you
summary. - with her brothers being busy performing, Elvis is in charge of taking Mercedes home.
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pairing. - Elvis x Black OC
warnings. - none really, just throwing up
word count. - 2k
author's note. - I've been meaning to post this chapter for like 4 days but I've been so tired that I literally just kept putting it off lol. thank you for actually reading the first chapter! I've wanted to write for a while and seeing that people actually like what I put out means a lot.
 ═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫  ═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫  ═══════ 
MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE 1957
The Country Club Parking Lot
  Raymond's deep voice carries through the air as he screams at his little sister. Even though Mercedes could have told you what her oldest brother would say, it didn't make it hurt any less.
  "I'm sorry! okay?" Mercedes argues.
  "Yeah sorry just ain't gonna cut it this time Mercedes!" she lay flat on her stomach in the back of their convertible, trying her best to keep her dizziness at bay.
  Luther starts to say something to Mercedes, but she completely blocks him-- having already heard enough of their bickering.
  Mercedes's head was pounding, and their yelling was only making it worse. She starts to wonder why people even drink alcohol, It's like poison. If it were up to her she'd make it illegal and ban it from every state in the U.S.
  "Mercedes, are you even listenin' to me?" the girl rolls over, using the side of the door to hoist her upper body from the leather seats.
  Anyone could see that Mercedes wasn't herself.
The usually put-together girl had her long curls all over the place, blocking most of her vision. Her face was flushed and everything she said had a delayed reaction.
  "No" she whispers before returning to her original position.
  "Do you not understand what could have happened to you? you could have gotten hurt."
  "Oh, so what? I get a little bit tipsy and you guys just think I'm gonna get stabbed in the street" she rolls onto her back "News flash Luther, I know how to take care of myself"
  "But you don't!" Luther yells, louder than his previous brothers "You don't understand what could have happened! What if he forced himself on you? huh? Then what would you have done, because I know for a fact you can't fight him!" Ronnie places his hand on Luther's shoulder
"Calm down, she's just-" he throws Ronnie's hand off with aggression
"Don't tell me to calm down and don't fuckin' touch me!" with that, Luther walks away from the car--taking a break from the situation at hand, but Ronnie knew it wouldn't be his last outburst of the night.
"The main thing is that she's okay," Ronnie says, adjusting his glasses as glances over at the intoxicated girl. "When we take her home and put some water in her she'll come around".
"Whoa whoa whoa, What do you mean take her home? We gotta be back on stage in seven minutes, it takes thirteen to even get back to town" Jerome reminds his brothers. "Just put the hood up and lock her in the car, she'll be fine" Raymond slaps the back of his brother's head.
"We ain't lockin' her in the car, she's not a dog" The youngest brother puts his hands up in defense.
"Well I don't see no one else comin' up with any ideas"
"Just give me a second to think" Ronnie mumbles with his head in his hands.
  Of all the times their sister has gotten them into a sticky situation, this one takes the cake.
  From Mercedes's first step, she's been causing trouble for the boys--making a mess that her brothers would have to find a way out of. In her defense, she never does it on purpose.
"Wait guys," Raymond says, nodding over to Elvis-- who had been standing back with his hands in his pockets, watching the situation unfold.
  Now, he wouldn't have been Raymond's first choice, knowing the man's history of being a player and taking any chance he could get with a pretty woman--but seeing as there was no one else around that he knew on a first-name basis, He had to settle.
  Ronnie sends his older brother a knowing smile as he makes his way to Elvis.
"Hey, remember that time your car needed a jump at the gas station" Ronnie brings up
"Uhhh, yeah I do. Down there off of Frank Hill"
"Yeah, yeah" he places his hand on Elvis's shoulder "and you said that you owed me one"
  Now, Elvis wasn't the brightest when it came to guessing games, but it only took all of three seconds for him to realize what the brothers were hinting at.
"Oh, no," Elvis says realization all over his face "no, no. I ain't playin' babysitter!"
"We just need you to take her home for us" Jerome pleads "You know better than the rest of us how people act when a band is late"
"C'mon, man. Do us a solid, just this once" Raymond adds.
  It's times like this that Elvis wonders why he's so determined to be a gentleman. He could have just kept walking like he didn't see the poor girl sprawled against the restroom--but his pride just wouldn't let him.
  He planned to find some cute girl after the party and head to her place after. Maybe have a drink or two, then end the night with a bit of fun. Now he's stuck having to make sure this girl doesn't choke on her own vomit.
"Okay" Elvis sighs reluctantly "I'll take her home for you" Ronnies face holds a wide grin, his appreciation obvious.
"Thanks, man." He pats his shoulder as he pulls his keys out of his pocket. "Here take this. We live on 325 Parkhurst road, it'll be the sixth one on the left."
"Yeah, yeah. Parkhurst 325 on the left" Elvis complained as the rowdy boys say their thanks and rush back to the country club.
  He peers into the Convertable to examine the sleeping girl. She had rolled onto her side and her hair had somehow become even more unruly than before.
  Her long eyelashes lay softly against her flushed cheek as she slept. Her lipstick was slightly smudged but not enough for it to be too noticeable.
  Though she looked like a complete mess, Elvis would be lying if he said he didn't find the girl attractive.
  The singer placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. Mercedes stirs but doesn't wake up.
"Come on mama, gotta get up" he's more aggressive this time, shaking Mercedes.
  She lets out a grunt and shrugs his hand off of her shoulder before sitting up.
  "Mornin' sunshine" Elvis teases "You enjoy your little nap?" Mercedes rolls her eyes.
"Where did my brothers go?" she asked trying her best not to fall back over into the car.
"Well honey, they've got a show to put on so I'm takin' you back home" Elvis explains. Mercedes looks him up and down as if she would find the truth somewhere on his body.
"Hmmm" the girl lays back down "m' just glad they finally shut up. Always trying to tell me what to do" she pulls at the loose thread on her dress
"Now don't talk about your brothers like that. They really care 'bout you" Elvis tries his best to stick up for the older Estelles.
Elvis had always wanted siblings, especially when his mom would talk about Jessie—Elvis's late twin brother. He felt as though having siblings would put less pressure on him to take care of everything after his father went to jail.
At a young age, the singer took the responsibility as two sons and a father.
Elvis had to be three men all at once.
He would often stay up at night and think about his late twin. Wondered if they would have the taste in music or like the same foods. It seemed like the more he thought, the worse it hurt.
"You don't understand" She pulls hard at the string, ripping it from her dress "All they ever do is bitch 'bout everythin'. It's like World War III with them boys. We can't even watch the ball game without someone's masculinity getting wounded." Elvis smiles, amused by Mercedes's complaints
"Is that so?" he questions with a smile on his face. The girl nods dramatically
"Oh yeah. Yesterday, Raymond finished the entire case of Pepsi so Luther smashed the crate over his back. It took Ronnie and Jerome half an hour to get 'em to stop" Elvis furrows his brow
"And where was your momma during all of this?" he questions leaning closer to the intoxicated female. Mercedes shrugs
"Don't know" she moves back into a seated position, discarding the string "saw her for the first time in six days this morning, something about her boyfriend Paul"
Mercedes opens the door and stumbles out of the car, Elvis helps her in the process. Though he questions why her mom would be gone for so long just to hang out with her boyfriend, he doesn't question any further and focuses on getting her back to his car.
...
"Atta girl, let it all out" Elvis's soothing voice is drowned out by Mercedes as she vomits onto the plush grass.
The two were parked on the side of the road--Mercedes on her hands and knees with Elvis holding her hair and rubbing small circles on her back.
At first, the ride back home was peaceful. Neither of them talked, just listened to the radio in comfortable silence. It wasn't until they got to the curvier roads that Mercedes's stomach started to turn.
She heaves once again as the putrid taste of vomit coats the inside of her mouth.
Amid her intense puking session, she had completely convinced herself she was going to die any moment now. That her final moments were gonna be spent lying on the ground next to her own vomit.
As if her headache wasn't bad enough, the screeching of cars speeding by surly wasn't helping. Not to mention the rain that had completely drenched the poor girl.
"I don't know why you were even drinkin' in the first place. They don't teach the legal age in those fancy little schools anymore? " There are an infinite number of things you could say to piss off a sick angry drunk--hell sometimes even being in their presents is enough to get you cussed out and beat up. So imagine what making passive-aggressive comments would do.
"Why don't you legally shut the hell up?" She barks back, voice coarse from emptying her insides mere seconds ago
Elvis just chuckles at the girls childish come back.
"Is that what you want me to do?" he says through a smile. Mercedes scoffs as she closes her eyes, trying her best to stop the nausea
"yes Elvis, that actually is what I want you to do," she expires "and while your at it could you also legally back the hell up, or would your lawyer need to present for that?"
The smile on Elvis's face drops when he realizes Mercedes wasn't joking
"Now that ain't no way to talk to the man who's doing you a favor," Elvis says pointful, aggravation growing in his voice. "Don't go getin' your panties all in a twist 'cause you decided to get drunk at five in the damn afternoon"
Mercedes spits, making one last fugal attempt to get the sick taste out of her mouth before she pushes his arm off her shoulder
"Fuck off Presley" she mutters under her breath, beginning to make her way back to the car.
She doesn't get very far before Elvis grips her wrist.
"Who the hell you think it is you're talkin' to!" he calls out. Sharply, Mercedes turns around, throwing her hands up in the air
"Who the hell do you think I'm talking to Elvis! I don't see nobody else standin' out here!"
Mercedes's filter was barely there to begin with, saying whatever popped into her mind without much of a second thought--With some liquid courage in her system, it wasn't much this girl wouldn't say. Even if it meant pissing off her only way back home.
Elvis stood with his hand on his hips, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from escalating the situation. He was borderline shaking with anger, now wet hair sticking to his forehead.
"You better watch the way you talk to me girl" he warns.
Mercedes just scoffs as she looks the pissed-off man up and down as if to challenge him.
"Or what? You gonna raise your voice? Yell at me? Tell my momma?"
"You know someone really outta teach you some manners"
"Your one to talk!" she yells out "I know all about you, Elvis Presley, you spend the whole night with a girl just to leave 'em the second you see sunshine" Elvis lets out an angry breath, running a hand through his drenched hair "Does your mother know what your doin' every night? or is she too busy layin' around too?" Before Mercedes can blink he grips the strap of her dress, balling it up in his fist as he forcefully pulls the girl towards him. Mercedes tries her best to keep a straight face--struggling to maintain her cool composure.
"You foul-mouthed bitch, you ain't gonna speak about my momma that way!" Elvis screamed so loud his face strains "I will slap you till your ears ring, you hear me!"
Mercedes has been yelled at countless times. In class, at home, hell even at drive-ins--But none of them have ever made her feel the way she does now. Her eyes started to get that familiar burn while she tried to think of something else to say.
A quick comeback that would deflect her feelings and make Elvis eventually give up.
But for the first time in 18 years, the girl was a a lost for words.
Mercedes feels the familiar burn in her eyes as she holds her breath, afraid of what Elvis might say next. She tries her best to keep the hot tears from spilling over, but it was only a matter of time until the dam broke loose.
  "Aw, hell," Elvis says as he watches the tears slide down her freckled cheeks. "Look I-" Mercedes pulls herself out of his grasp
  "Just...take me home," she says with what little aggression was still in her body, hurrying back over to Elvis's car
23 notes · View notes
dottozhuu · 3 months
Text
ೃ༄ MUN INTRO
╰┈➤ Hello! My name is Mel, I’m 20 years old, my pronouns are he/thy, and my timezone is GMT. I am a full-time student in my last semester of undergrad, and also currently in the process of planning to pursue a doctoral program in my field of study! I am currently in search of a new thread or a few, after taking a decently long hiatus from writing; I’d love to get back into the swing of things.
ೃ༄ RULES
╰┈➤ I have some pretty basic/self-explanatory rules and boundaries, when it comes to writing with me. They are as follows:
Please be 20+ to write with me. I only prefer to write with people very close to my age, or older than me. This is a hard requirement.
Please do not pester me for a reply if it has been less than a day or two’s time, or become passive aggressive about it; just talk to me if you have a question regarding timeliness. It’s completely fine to check in, but I have a very active life outside of the internet, so it may take me a handful of days at times to get a lengthier reply sent. That being said, if it has been 4+ days, do ping me! I also tend to be forgetful at times.
I am completely fine with any length, when it comes to writing style; I do not write with people who use asterisks, but, as for how long replies are—let me know what you’re feeling, and I’m happy to match it!
I do not, and will not ever, write any content that is illegal or morally questionable; very specifically speaking, I will not write topics that involve ||pedophilia, or incest.|| This is non-negotiable.
Please feel free to contribute any and all ideas you may have, when coming up with a plot with me! I absolutely love witnessing other people’s creative prowess in action, so don’t be shy!
I am completely fine with nsfw themes, but typically prefer to have some build-up beforehand. I am also okay with simply fading to black, or avoiding nsfw topics altogether—just let me know what you’re comfortable with, too, and that’s great with me! I write all of my characters as switches, and prefer to write with somebody who does similarly in regard to nsfw content.
ೃ༄ MUSES
╰┈➤ I have a couple of muses, but the ones that I am partial to penning are italicized:
Zhongli/Morax.
Kaveh.
Alhaitham
Diluc Ragnvindr.
Kaeya Alberich.
Cyno.
Tighnari.
Arataki Itto.
Wriotheseley.
Baizhu.
Neuvillette.
ೃ༄ PAIRINGS
╰┈➤ Honestly, I am an absolute sucker for rarepairs. I am happy to make any ship work, so long as both of us are passionate about our muses! Throw your wildest ideas at me, and I’ll eat it up every time (so long as they’re morally fine) LOL. That being said, romance is definitely not a necessity within our thread if you don’t want it to be.
I do personally have some favorite pairings, which are:
Kavetham
Dottozhu
Cynari
Kaveh/Childe
TartaLi/Zhongchi
Chiluc
ೃ༄ THEMES/AUS I AM SEARCHING FOR
╰┈➤ I love canon compliant threads just as much as I love ones that center around AUs, so feel free to reach out if either of those sound appealing to you more generally. More specifically speaking, however, I am in search of threads that incorporate one or some of these sorts of themes and/or AUs:
• ROYAL AU
Suspense
Horror/Psychological Horror
Surrealism
Scream AU (or any sort of other horror movie/slasher flick au tbh‼️)
80’s AU
╰┈➤ If any of this seems appealing to you, don’t hesitate to reach out on tumblr or discord, my discord is dottozhuu and I’ll respond and/or via messaging ASAP. Thank you!
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epickiya722 · 11 months
Note
Deku/Mirko hate is extremely hilarious when it comes from angry dudebros bc you can feel how strong their ego and masculinity is as much as of a wet piece of paper.
But when it comes from ppl whose favorite manga/anime is CSM, JJk and Mp100, calling Deku "pathetic" or complaining abt how Mirko is too sexy... Girl what the fuck are you talking abt you're literally in the pathetic loser meow meow man and sexy girlboss fandom WHAT
(Anon, means the two characters separately, not as a ship. I just have a feeling someone would have taken as such.)
NOT THE WET PAPER! 🤣
But no, for real, it's astounding to me when people hate on Deku or Miruko for reasons I find totally backwards. And it honestly just increases my love for both characters.
I was gonna make a post about it, but I stopped myself because "Kiya, cease the saltiness". But you know what? Imma say it here.
Warning, this is about to get LONG because I have so much to say and I'm tired of just writing posts and deleting them.
Let's me start with my queen, my goddess, the icon Miruko.
I get it when people are tired of the whole "sexy anime girls with the big boobs and butt shots" especially in shonen, I'm annoyed with it myself at times, I am.
But compared to what I seen for female characters in other shonen, especially with Rabbit girls, Miruko is both something tamer and new. Let's be real here!
A lot of rabbit female characters, most really in general, in anime be tiny and meek. Have big boobs and showing off cleavage. And even if they are strong, their physical appearance doesn't mirror it because they're supposed to be "cute".
Miruko though? She has muscles, but she isn't packing them like fucking All Might now. Her body is reminiscent to someone who would work out, someone who is an athlete, especially those who specializes in speed and agility.
What's even better? It's not like Miruko is incapable of being cute.
People look at her and see "aggressive, feral woman with muscles".
But come on now!
This? This can't be cute?
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Fuck out of here!!
She is a short rabbit woman! How the fuck isn't she cute to anybody?!
(And honestly, again, I love that she is short because it makes sense. Her being tall is just awkward to me. It's ridiculous, I'll be frank. And honestly, makes me mad for several reasons as someone who shares similar physical features as her.)
Oh, so it's illegal to be sexy and cute for Miruko, but some of the same people lose themselves over shirtless guys in the same anime.
"Look at all the gratuitous shots of Miruko's legs, blech". Not even a moment later, Dabi shows a little bit of tit and people are drooling. Oh, please. Hawks does anything, "he's so cute". Get the hell of out here.
Miruko gets shots of her legs, sure. It's expected in a shonen. But at least her boobs aren't unnecessarily huge and her waist is nearly the size of a pinch. The most that is emphasized is her legs. Midoriya and Iida even gets shots of their legs sometimes!
Oh! Let's not forget how people hate on her because how much she's a fighter!
What bothers me is that I get why it's iffy that Miruko is "aggressive" while having brown skin, I have mixed feelings about that. On one hand, being that she is a brown skinned woman, it is off that she is the way she is. On the other hand, and this is a theory, she could be a reference to Horikoshi's previous protagonist Shiina. Who is an albino rabbit man who had the exact personality Miruko does.
Now the thing that bothers me about this on the part of the fandom is they hate Miruko for being aggressive, right? THEN WHERE THE FUCK IS THE SAME ENERGY FOR SOME OF THE OTHER CHARACTERS?
No, no because almost every character is ready for a fight in BNHA. We are not going to act like Miruko is the worst case out there because she isn't. There are people who love Toga for her bloodthirsty nature but hate Miruko. Bakugou may have some haters, but oh my gosh there are plenty of people who find him badass and attractive for that attitude. The other villains can be just as "mean" and talk about killing, yet oh! They have fans! Hell, even Endeavor got fans!! Kirishima is always ready for a fight, too and practically NO ONE hates him!
So why hate on Miruko?
Hell, even in the mentioned animes/mangas you pointed out, Anon, the women are worse than Miruko. Come on, example, Chainsaw Man. I cannot recall any female character in there that wasn't like evil or bloodthirsty or is like super nice.
And it's not like Miruko is mean. She's just blunt and isn't afraid of who she is. Her "mean" side comes out when she's facing villains. She is a "no-nonsense" character.
Now let me move on to my green boy, Midoriya because whoo boy. When it comes to people within and outside this fandom, I want to gatekeep him so bad.
"Midoriya is so pathetic, he's just a crybaby".
So I guess other shonen protagonists don't exist, huh? So other shonen protagonists don't be crying whether it be for gags or serious moments?
Like this is the same kid who has moments like this.
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Him? Him? Are we sure this is the "pathetic" one?
No, this is someone who eventually gets tired of everyone else's shit. (True ♋ Vibes right there.)
Kid cleaned a beach WITHOUT ANY POWERS.
His goal to be a hero is no different than any other protagonist back then and now. And he looks badass doing it.
Know what I adore about Midoriya? That he actually comes off like a damn teenager and have other defining traits that is opposite of other protagonists.
He isn't girl crazy. He's awkward around girls, but he isn't some pervert. Hell, girls are the last thing on his mind.
He's also not some dumb kid. He's may not be #1 in his class, but he's isn't book dumb. He's smart both on and off the field and relies on what he observes to win battles instead of taking five episodes to train while his friends fight some overpowered villain and come back and win within two minutes.
He actually struggles in battle, even with all those quirks, he does have struggles, including what happens with his body. Physical evidence. We barely get that in anime. The most it's a scar or a lost limb that happens BEFORE the story. Midoriya gets abrasions, scars, crooked fingers and even warnings about losing his arms.
Even his appearance is a breath of fresh air to me because I swear red, orange and yellow are too common for protagonists. Don't hate the colors at all, but let's be for real here. Warm colors, be it clothes or hair, is a sign of "Oh that's the protagonist".
Midoriya? Green. HE'S GREEN AND I LOVE IT!! The most he wears of red is his belt and shoes and his backpack is yellow, but Horikoshi makes it very clear that GREEN is his signature color. His name means GREEN.
Midoriya is not the typical shonen protagonist and I adore that about him.
Overall, out of all the characters, I adore both them and find some of what people complain about them just so... *sighs really loud*.
15 notes · View notes
roleplayfinder · 3 months
Note
ೃ༄ MUN INTRO
╰┈➤ Hello! My name is Mel, I’m 20 years old, my pronouns are he/thy, and my timezone is GMT. I am a full-time student in my last semester of undergrad, and also currently in the process of planning to pursue a doctoral program in my field of study! I am currently in search of a new thread or a few, after taking a decently long hiatus from writing; I’d love to get back into the swing of things.
ೃ༄ RULES
╰┈➤ I have some pretty basic/self-explanatory rules and boundaries, when it comes to writing with me. They are as follows:
Please be 20+ to write with me. I only prefer to write with people very close to my age, or older than me. This is a hard requirement.
Please do not pester me for a reply if it has been less than a day or two’s time, or become passive aggressive about it; just talk to me if you have a question regarding timeliness. It’s completely fine to check in, but I have a very active life outside of the internet, so it may take me a handful of days at times to get a lengthier reply sent. That being said, if it has been 4+ days, do ping me! I also tend to be forgetful at times.
I am completely fine with any length, when it comes to writing style; I do not write with people who use asterisks, but, as for how long replies are—let me know what you’re feeling, and I’m happy to match it!
I do not, and will not ever, write any content that is illegal or morally questionable; very specifically speaking, I will not write topics that involve ||pedophilia, or incest.|| This is non-negotiable.
Please feel free to contribute any and all ideas you may have, when coming up with a plot with me! I absolutely love witnessing other people’s creative prowess in action, so don’t be shy!
I am completely fine with nsfw themes, but typically prefer to have some build-up beforehand. I am also okay with simply fading to black, or avoiding nsfw topics altogether—just let me know what you’re comfortable with, too, and that’s great with me! I write all of my characters as switches, and prefer to write with somebody who does similarly in regard to nsfw content.
ೃ༄ MUSES
╰┈➤ I have a couple of muses, but the ones that I am partial to penning are italicized:
Zhongli/Morax.
Kaveh.
Alhaitham
Diluc Ragnvindr.
Kaeya Alberich.
Cyno.
Tighnari.
Arataki Itto.
Wriotheseley.
Baizhu.
Neuvillette.
ೃ༄ PAIRINGS
╰┈➤ Honestly, I am an absolute sucker for rarepairs. I am happy to make any ship work, so long as both of us are passionate about our muses! Throw your wildest ideas at me, and I’ll eat it up every time (so long as they’re morally fine) LOL. That being said, romance is definitely not a necessity within our thread if you don’t want it to be.
I do personally have some favorite pairings, which are:
Kavetham
Dottozhu
Cynari
Kaveh/Childe
TartaLi/Zhongchi
Chiluc
ೃ༄ THEMES/AUS I AM SEARCHING FOR
╰┈➤ I love canon compliant threads just as much as I love ones that center around AUs, so feel free to reach out if either of those sound appealing to you more generally. More specifically speaking, however, I am in search of threads that incorporate one or some of these sorts of themes and/or AUs:
• ROYAL AU
Suspense
Horror/Psychological Horror
Surrealism
Scream AU (or any sort of other horror movie/slasher flick au tbh‼️)
80’s AU
╰┈➤ If any of this seems appealing to you, don’t hesitate to reach out on tumblr or discord, my discord is dottozhuu and I’ll respond and/or via messaging ASAP. Thank you!
.
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Fnaf: Rescue Pets AU! - I’m gonna drop another AU on your ass!
The Reader character adopts rescued animals, some need a forever home others need some tender love and care before being able to adopted by a family that was better suited for said animal. Y/N lives on a big farm and has plenty of space for larger animals too - I might add other Fnaf robots later when I have a better idea for them - Let’s go! 
[Also, don’t do any of the stuff I’m going to writing, it’s all for feels and drama and I highly doubt it’s realistic in any way shape for form.] Roxanne - A half wolf, duh.
Was rescued from an illegal dog fighting ring. She was very aggressive and talk of her being put down was talked about. However the group that rescued her got in contact with you and with all your past experiences you decide you would stand up to the challenge.
Roxanne was dropped off at your farm in a heavy duty create, that already had a few claws and bite marks. The people dropping her off are very concerned, but you  are really bloody excited.
You had set up an gated, fenced but open area to release her into. The group help load her into the release area and some come away with a few scratches. 
Everyone stomach drops when you enter the area, with padded safety gear on. You are fully expected to get attacked and Roxanne’s jaw gets a death rip on the arm of the safety gear, you however, do not flinch. You talk to her. She growls trying to scare you away, but you know better. It takes a while, plenty of reassurances, Roxy is safe, she won’t be forced to fight anymore. 
Roxanne jaws loosens and she lets go, slowly. She does not let you pet her but her hackles are no longer raised. She growls when you move but when you place down some food - large meat on a bone - she seems to relax and eats in front of you.
Once you leave her enclosure, the group that had watched you are yelling at you at how stupid you had to be about going in there in the first place. Roxanne growls warningly at them.
It is a slow progress that takes a few month, but soon you do not have to wear full body safety gear to enter Roxanne’s enclosure, and she greets you with a soft head-butt at your side and she even liked to play tag-a-war with you.... You always lose, but Roxy is happy and content to live of the farm with you. 
She even helps out with herding the few sheep you have.
   Sun - Golden Retriever, also duh.
Sun was a regular at the local shelter, he was a handful and all his owners found him difficult to train and he just had so much energy that some families just could not handle him. So you are called one days and ask if you are able to take Sun on as your new training challenge, and your agree.
You immediately pick up on the fact that Sun is scared of the lead, his tail lowers and he shakes when he sees anyone hold one as they walk over to him. Trying a different approach, you teach him to stay at your side as you walk from one side of the room to the other, without the lead, it takes a few tries but with clear instructions and a few treats for good behaviour, Sun finally gets it and you are able to walk him to the car without issue.
Training Sun takes less time than you thought, he takes to lessons and phrases quickly, plus with all the space you have on the farm he has plenty of space to run and play. 
You were wary of him and Roxanne being too close and expected a fight, but they get along fine, Roxanne likes her space though.
Sometimes families will come to your farm to buy eggs, milk and vegies, and to sometimes pat the animals under you care. Sun loves to play fetch with the children and run around with them. There was a family that asked about adopting him and you... had to think about it. 
Sun must of heard about that talk because he followed you around the house all day after that and did not want to play with other children after that. So, the decision was made, the farm and you were going to be his forever home. 
Sun got his new collar and was full of energy the next day. You started taking up riding a bike around the farm just to make sure he got most of his energy out before night fall. Many families asked if he was up for sale or adoption but you politely declined every time. 
Sun favourite times of the year are when their is a holiday and the farm hoists some events for families. A haybale maze for Halloween, where he helps if someone gets lost for too long. Egg hunts in the fields where he stops the younger children from wondering off too far from the group. 
It shocks you when someone yells out in the field, Sun had bitten someone. You came running and the adult climbed onto the tractor in order to get away from a very angry Sun. The person points a bloody hand at you saying they were trying to take their child home when the dog went nuts, they threating to call the police and have him put down. The child in question is hiding behind some haybales, they run over to their real parents when they show up. Oh, the police are called alright. You reward Sunny with some roast beef from the parent’s Boucher shop afterwards. 
Your farm is known as a safe place after that day, and every parent knows that their child is safe when Sun is running around in the fields.       
Moon - Cat, half a stray.
Oh boy, you were not ready for that call about a stray that was finally caught and taken to the shelter. Moon was very aggressive even you were more cautious than you were with Roxanne. 
Everyone doubted that he would be socialized well enough for adoption, so you were called. It took you and two other people to get Moon into a cat carrier and you all came away with some nasty scratches. 
You sorted out a small room for Moon, with a lot of scratching posts. Non of them survived. 
You wore parts of the safety gear when replacing Moon’s food, water and litter tray. He made it very clear that he did not like having anyone in his space and hissed whenever you entered that room, even when feeding him.
One day, when you went in to clean, you found him curled up in the rafters glaring at you, tail fluffed up and trying to make himself as big as he could. Instead of hissing though, Moon was coughing. This worried you. It was time for some tough love.
It took an hour, but you managed to pin Moon down and examine him. He did not like this and had given you a few deep claw marks, but you did not give up on him. You actually say to him that he can attack you all he wants, you are not going to give up on him. Hissing quietly, he gears up at you.
Moon fights back while you examine him, but you keep him pinned. You find a lot of old wounds on him, from fights with other animals. You feel for him, it looks like he has had a very rough life. Some injuries look infected and by the look of his water eyes and his nose, he has a cold.
You think trying to pin him down to examine him was a fight, trying to clean his wounds and take his medicine was a war. You manage to roll him up in a blanket and feed him drops of cream cheese with his medicine mixed in though. Moon was not happy, licking at the cream cheese you deliberately leave drops on his nose, he glares at you. Probably planning your demises.
You hold the murderous bundle close to your chest, so Moon can feel your heart beat, as you feed him the medicine. You talk to him, saying how he is safe now and nothing is going to hurt him anymore. He must understand you because he slowly stop growling at you. But the glare is still there, Moon is not ready to trust just yet, but it’s progress. 
Once Moon has eaten all the cheese laced with medicine, you go back into his little room and unravel him from the blanket. He runs to a hidey-hole and glares at you, but he did not make a swipe at you. Over the next few days you feed him his medicine-cream-cheese in a small bowl and Moon licks it up. 
One night, you are having sleep paralysis. Your breath comes out short, hitched and panicked, as you have a unwanted staring contest with your Sleep paralysis demon. You about to start crying when you hear a meow from the open door and feel tiny paws land on the bed. You can’t speak and you try to move you fingers, worried that Moon will scratch at you if you don’t move. Then you hear something you never thought you would, a deep purring and a gentle weight on your chest. Moon moves in front of your face, blocking the previous staring contest and slow blinks down at you. Moon settles down, continuing to purr and you feel calmed. 
In the morning you find the door to Moon’s small room practically ripped to screeds at the corner. You let him sleep in your room from then on. 
---
I might add more if I think of more, or if you have a suggestion about want another fnaf animatronics would be what animal and have an idea of their background and why they would be sent to Y/N’s farm.
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mydearestdaryl · 5 days
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𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐚 (18+) ‧₊˚ ✧
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Summary: Daryl needed some love and you gladly gave it to him. Warnings: TWD violence, gore, blood, character deaths, explicit language, smut (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v, simple aftercare). Not proofread. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! reader smut + fluff. Setting: Quarry. A/N: I read a post some time ago that said that Daryl in season 1 just needed some kisses to calm down and I couldn't agree more so I wrote this. It's also my first time trying to write smut, so I am so sorry if this sucks, and I was so hesitant to post it so please be nice lol. 😞
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“Ha-ha, funny girl,” T-Dog deadpanned, rolling his eyes and suppressing a laugh. It was the third bad joke you told in a row, and he was starting to find them funny.
“I really am,” you replied, finally catching your breath after cackling at your joke.
“Okay, Eddie Murphy,” T-Dog, added jokingly, making you giggle as he placed a bunch of firewood you'd been helping him split for the past 40 minutes. “Let's head back.”
“I just thought of another one!” You exclaimed as you walked next to him. His groan of annoyance made you laugh before you even told the joke. “What do you call a fish with no eyes?”
“I. Don't. Know.”
“A fsh,” you replied after a dramatic pause, hardly able to contain your laugh as he gave you a side-eye. “I-” you started but commotion from the camp reached your ears, making you both stop. You recognized Daryl's voice.
Sharing a confused look with T, you both picked up the pace, coming into view with what seemed like a heated discussion between Daryl, Shane, and Rick, the man who joined the camp yesterday.
“Rick Grimes,” he introduced himself to Daryl.
“Rick Grimes,” Daryl mocked him, “y' got somethin' yea wanna tell me?”
“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked into a piece of metal,” Rick stated. “He's still there.”
You stayed in place, watching as T-Dog slowly took a few steps closer to the scene. Daryl hummed as he turned around, pacing shortly before he spoke, clearly growing irritated, “Le' me process this.” He paused shortly as he turned to face Rick again. “Ya' sayin' you handcuffed ma brother to a roof, and you left 'im there!”
Rick gulped before admitting. “Yeah.”
Suddenly, Daryl tossed the squirrels he was carrying toward Rick, the latter swiftly dodging them before Shane jumped into action, tackling Daryl to the ground. Next, Daryl pulled a knife from its holster and swung it at the former cops.
In the blink of an eye, Shane put Daryl in a chokehold, while Rick snatched the weapon out of his hand. “Yea best let me go!” warned Daryl, struggling in Shane's grip as the cop brought him to the ground. You walked closer toward Carol as your eyes remained on the scene, but decided to walk to the other side as you noticed Ed was next to her.
“I think it's better if we don't,” Shane replied, almost mockingly.
“Chockehold's illegal,” Daryl added, face red from the struggle.
“You can file a complaint,” Shane mocked him. Rick kneeled before the restrained man as Shane spoke again, “c'mon, man, can keep this up all day.”
“I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. You think we can manage that?” Rick spoke, trying to find Daryl's eyes. “You think we can manage that?” the cop repeated when no answer was obtained.
Panting, Daryl grunted in agreement, finally getting Shane to release him; more aggressively than he should've, in your opinion. Sitting up quickly, Daryl pointed at Shane warningly as Rick continued: “What I did was not on a whim,” he explained. “Your brother does not work and play well with others.”
“It's not Rick's fault,” T-Dog spoke up, his leg bouncing anxiously as he confessed. “I had the key... I dropped it.”
“Couldn't pick it up?” Daryl retorted. His voice was calmer, but you recognized in his stormy eyes a hint of grief. Nobody else cared about Merle when he was everything had, and you couldn't imagine how terrible this situation was for him, even when you didn't like Merle yourself.
“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”
Dropping his head, Daryl slowly got up, gathering his composure again. Anger returned to his expression as he walked past T-dog, “'f it's s'posed ta make me feel better, it don't,” glaring daggers at the 'culprit.'
“Maybe this will,” T went on to say, “I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him... with the padlock”
“It's gotta count for something,” Rick added, backing T-Dog up.
Drying a tear as soon as it came, Daryl took a deep breath. “Hell with all y'all!” he screamed. “Jus' tell me where he is, so's I can go get 'im.”
“He'll show you,” Lori commented, staring into her husband's eyes. “Ain't that right?” Rick's eyes left his wife's after a few seconds, finding T-Dog's shortly before nodding.
“I'm going back,” he declared, almost solemnly, hands on his hips as his eyes met Daryl's again. The younger Dixon clenched his jaw before walking past everyone to get his crossbow and stomping to his tent.
You didn't notice you went behind him until Dale stopped you by grabbing your wrist. “What are you doing, honey?” the older man questioned. He'd always been kind and sweet to you, so you gently released yourself from his grip.
“He's upset,” you explained, and he seemed to understand as he nodded reluctantly, but understandingly. On your way, you grabbed your half-full water bottle, and slowly approached the edge of the camp, where the tent of the Dixon's was.
You found Daryl sitting on the chair outside his tent, shoulders hunched forward, fists clenched with anger as if grasping the last shreds of control. His head bowed low and his eyes were shut tight. You caught the way his body shook softly with quiet sobs. You stilled, not daring to interrupt this stolen vulnerable moment.
After another minute, he abruptly stood up, drying his tears before cursing loudly while kicking the chair he was sitting in. Suddenly, you hesitated to approach him and decided to turn around and leave, but his voice reached your ears before you took one step.
“Whaddaya doin' here?”
You took a deep breath before turning back around and walking up to him, your water bottle hanging from your hand. “I- uhm, I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Merle, and-”
“Ya don' even like 'im,” he snapped defensively.
“No, I don't,” you confirmed, “but I like you, and he's your brother. Even if my brother would annoy the shit out of me before, I loved him, and... I'm sorry you're going through this, Daryl,” you took a few steps closer, eyes on his the whole time.
He carefully studied your face, searching for a lie, but finding nothing but the truth.
He frowned deeper, angrily huffing out a breath before turning away from you to rant. “He's jus' so fuckin' stupid! Nobody can fuckin' stand him an' he still can't keep 'is fuckin' mouth shut!” he yelled, pacing from left to right, hands dancing through the air practically independently, punctuating his words.
“Why he gotta be such a fuckin' idiot? Not even when we gotta surv-” mid-sentence, your hands found his cheeks, and with utter sweetness your lips impulsively found his, silencing his words.
He stilled, hands slowly dropping to his sides, body completely tense.
You quickly pulled away, opening your eyes to find his eyes slightly wide and totally confused. Your hands left his face and you took a step back, your eyes awkwardly looking anywhere but at him. “Fuck, Daryl, I'm so sorry,” you started, a knot of anxiety growing in your chest. “I don't know why I did that... well, I know why, 'cause I like you, but I shouldn't have, I'm really, so s-”
Your rambling was interrupted by his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to connect his lips with yours. This time he was more relaxed, and the kiss was slower. His hands slid down to gently grab your hips, pressing his body to yours.
Your arms snaked around his neck, dropping your water bottle in the process, and allowing your lips to part when his tongue requested entrance into your mouth. Enjoying the taste of each other, with his exploring hands getting acquainted with the curve of your hips and hips, yours tracing his strong shoulders and arms, time stilled for a moment, but you loved it. The kiss grew almost desperate and the grip on your hips got stronger.
Unhappy to pull away, but needing to do so to breathe, you found yourself gasping as his lips left yours. You smiled brightly, cheeks rosy, and he smirked while dipping his head. “Also, I brought you water,” you added, grabbing the bottle from the ground, and dusting off the little dirt that stuck to its side before handing it to him.
“Thanks,” he nodded, taking it from your hands before opening it, downing the liquid, and emptying the bottle.
“You're gonna find him,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and a quick kiss on his cheek. He smiled and nodded once again, muttering a thank you. You sounded pretty convinced, which gave him the confidence he needed when he left on the search for his brother later that day.
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Everybody screamed as they tried to avoid or fight the walkers emerging from the thick, dark forest. The evening that had started so peacefully turned into the perfect scene of a terrifying horror movie without warning.
Things moved fast and slow at the same time. It was a blur.
Tunnel vision activated, solely focused on surviving and protecting your group, moving on automatic pilot as you dug your machete countless times into the head of those flesh-hungry monsters.
You didn't even notice when it ended, barely feeling the pair of strong hands gripping your shoulders and shaking you slightly; his voice sounded distant as he asked if you were okay over and over, but you couldn't answer. You weren't sure if you were okay, the adrenaline didn't let you feel your body.
He finally snapped you out of your trance with a more forceful shake of your shoulders. “What?” You asked, brows knitting in confusion.
“Yea bit? Are ya alright?” Daryl questioned, nearly manhandling you as he searched and scanned for bites or scratches on your neck, lifting the sleeves of your flannel, making sure the skin of your arms was intact.
“I didn't get bit or anything,” you shook your head, still a bit gone.
Cupping your face to study your eyes, he quickly pulled you into his arms, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt finally safe now. You wrapped your arms around his torso, closing your eyes and hiding your face in his neck.
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After everyone agreed to get some rest and leave the cleaning for tomorrow, Daryl offered to stay in your tent with you that night.
He helped you into your pajamas, and you cuddled as he told you what happened in Atlanta. Then you simply lay in silence, legs tangled, your face on his chest. You played with his fingers and he watched you adoringly, rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his free hand.
You looked up and made eye contact with him. Gently he cupped your chin, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hand went up to cup half of his face, returning the kiss with equal passion. It was almost needy but slow. It felt like he needed the confirmation that you were both here and okay.
Tongues met in a slow dance, and his hands reached down to cup your ass, easily moving you to lay on top of him. You couldn't help but moan as your body completely pressed against his, but it also made you want to feel more.
Several moments went by before his hands slid under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your back, and you broke the kiss in need of oxygen, immediately latching your lips onto his neck, sucking and kissing.
He hummed in satisfaction, reaching a hand up to keep your face on his neck, which was all the confirmation you needed to keep going. You were in heaven, but it was cut short when he stopped suddenly, pulling his hands out of your shirt, and cupping your face again for you to look at him.
“You sure 'bout this?” he asked, his face stern as he waited for your answer.
You nodded hastily, licking your lips. “Yeah, I am. Are you sure?”
“'M sure,” he said without hesitation.
His hands found the back of your thighs and moved them so you could straddle him as he sat up. “Need ta feel ya,” he whispered in a husky voice, sending a shiver down your spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.
His hands caressed the dip of your waist up and down under your shirt as you made out. You buckled your hips up unintentionally but did it again on purpose when you heard him groan into your mouth.
You were straight-up grinding onto his hips before he pulled away from your mouth, “patience, doll,” he whispered as he took your shirt off. His hands went to your breasts like magnets, kneading and massaging the curves shamelessly as he peppered your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses that trailed down to pop a tit inside his mouth.
Your clothed cunt clenched on air, and you closed your eyes and sighed, enjoying the attention, and you could feel his excitement making a tent in his pants.
He slowly shifted the position, you back now on the mattress.
After he decided both tits had been given enough attention, though he would've stayed worshipping those beautiful mounds all night, his mouth trailed lower and lower, hands smoothly pulling your shorts and panties off at the same time, while his tongue and mouth kissed and licked the skin of your stomach.
His eyes met yours as he kissed your thighs, silently asking for permission to go further. “Please,” you whispered, surprising yourself by how needy you sounded, but then again, you did feel like you needed him right now.
He wasted no time, and in less than a second his mouth was latched to your clit. Tongue swirling on it and sucking, making you gasp. He used his whole face, pushing himself deeper and moving his head side to side as his tongue flicked over your sensitive pearl quickly. Hungrily. You arched your back involuntarily, fingers finding his hair to pull while simultaneously pulling him closer.
With a hand holding your hip down, he sucked a few more times before he licked a strip down to your entrance where his tongue began to fuck you. His thumb replaced his mouth on your clit, rubbing at the same speed as his tongue went in and out of you. You moaned and whimpered and cursed, trying to keep quiet, but were unsuccessful.
“Quiet, sunshine,” he whispered, his free hand reaching up to make you suck on two fingers to silence you, and you happily obliged. Your legs wrapped around his head as he continued his ministrations, the familiar knot forming in your stomach.
“Fuck, Daryl, I- wait,” your back arched further, legs pulling him closer, contradicting your plead as he moved faster and faster, going back to sucking on your clit and fuck you with his fingers. He hummed and the vibrations brought you closer. “So close.”
Your pitch was higher and higher, the knot tighter and tighter. All it took was a final, flick and suck of his tongue while feeling him moan against your cunt before pushing you over the edge into a shattering climax. The free hand covered your mouth as the other slowed down, prolonging your pleasure until your body relaxed and you came down from your high.
“Fuck,” you looked at him with hazy eyes.
“Fuck,” he said as a confirmation, looking down to see a damp spot on his sweatpants. He came just by eating you out. Fucking hot.
“Come here,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. He gladly kissed you back as you slid your hands under his shirt, trying to pull it up, but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist.
“I-” he started, looking away from your eyes and chewing on his bottom lip. “I have- I...”
“You don't have to take it off, it's okay.”
“No, I wan' ta, jus'” he sighed, slowly taking the shirt off. He was thankful his back was away from you. At least you wouldn't have to see the worst yet. “My dad... was a drunk,” he reached to touch, kind of trying to hide, one of the scars on his shoulders, but you gently pushed his hand away, tracing the scar with your fingertips before looking up at him. You smiled and kissed him shortly, before kissing the scars on his shoulders.
“You're so strong,” you whispered.
His heart was beating fast but in a good way. His lips found yours again as he settled himself between your legs. Your mouths, now familiar with one another, found a rhythm as he started to pull his sweatpants and boxers down.
His erection hit your thighs, leaving a wet trail on your skin from his previous orgasm, making you pull away from the kiss. You bit your bottom lip at the sight; he was thick, and the size was a bit on the bigger side. “All for you, baby,” he whispered, as he pumped himself a couple of times.
He rubbed the tip on your clit and entrance, spreading your and his juices all over your cunt. “Ya ready?” he asked, slapping your cunt with his dick gently. You nodded, eyes darting between where you needed him and his lust-filled eyes. “Nah, need ya to speak up.”
“Please, Dar, I'm ready. I need you.”
He hummed in satisfaction, leaning forward to prop himself up with his forearms around your head, kissing your cheek, before slowly pushing into you. You moaned and he groaned. Wet and slippery from the previous orgasm, the stretch felt like pure bliss for both of you. For a second he stilled, letting both adjust as he breathed in the scent of your neck.
He grabbed both your hands with one of his and pinned them above your head, starting to move when you wrapped your legs around his hips. “Feel so good, doll.”
He started slow, savoring the moment but also nervous to hurt you. But soon, he picked up a rhythm and started moving faster. Your boobs bounced beneath him as he kissed and worshipped your neck. You felt so deliciously full as he thrust up into your tight, dripping heat, moaning and whimpering underneath him.
He was in heaven, eyes inevitably closed as he fucked you, but he wanted to keep them open to look at you. To him, you looked like a masterpiece just like that.
“Harder,” you breathed, and he obliged. Your skin met over and over and the sounds filled your tent. He grunted, reaching down to rub on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. “Oh, right there,” your voice was getting higher, letting him know you were close. “Don't stop, fuck, please, don't stop.”
“I won', baby. I gotcha,” he moaned. “Fuckin' love this pussy.”
His thrusts became more and more urgent, each one hitting that sweet spot that made your body arch and your toes curl. If your hands weren't inside his gasp you'd be grasping the sheet beneath you. With one last flick of your clit, you shattered.
His mouth claimed yours to silence your cries of pleasure. Pure ecstasy filled your body, and prolonging your high, Daryl continued moving inside you, until he, too, reached his peak, quickly pulling out and releasing himself on your stomach.
Spent and breathless, he collapsed next to you, who was in the same state as him. Your body tingled with the remnants of your passion, and you couldn't help the smile on your face as he kissed your temple lazily.
Your eyelids were too heavy to notice when he pulled out a little rag from somewhere and cleaned you up, then you felt him put your clothes on again, and his too. All too relaxed, you nestled into his embrace as he pulled you into his arms, both falling asleep in a matter of seconds.
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Taglist: @ledgeria16 @poisonmedixon (forgot to add it when I first posted, sorry!)
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recentlyheardcom · 7 months
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Read the full story on The Auto WireTeen Speeding In Daddy’s Mustang Cusses Out Arizona DeputyMany people from around the US and even in foreign countries follow Pinal County Sheriff Deputy Frank Sloup thanks to his popular Fridays With Frank video series. Even though Deputy Sloup is affable and cracks a lot of jokes, he also takes traffic enforcement seriously. Sometimes that raises the ire of entitled individuals like this teenager who allegedly was blasting through a construction zone in daddy’s Ford Mustang.Learn how a man was kidnapped by his electric car here.The teenager, whose face is blurred out in the video, immediately whines to his mommy that he’s “being harassed” because Deputy Sloup asks for his driver’s license. Guess they didn’t teach him at home or in school that an officer can ask for your license and you’re obligated by law to produce it. The interaction just goes downhill from there.After that the kid tries to claim filming him is illegal. Deputy Sloup is such a patient guy and that’s clear as he nonchalantly explains to the teen that he’s in public so he has no reasonable expectation to privacy. Has he never seen anyone with a dashcam or businesses and homes with surveillance cameras?Entitlement and a lack of vocabulary breadth both come blaring through as the driver starts hurling four-letter insults at Deputy Sloup. Someone needs to teach this kid that a cop who pulls you over could probably find some other violations and write you up for those, a risk you definitely run by acting like an overly aggressive brat.Thing is Deputy Sloup clocked the kid allegedly going 55 mph in a 35 mph zone. In Arizona that’s right on the bubble for criminal speeding. But this know-it-all teenager doesn’t seem to get the risk he’s taking. And he starts calling his daddy for help.Sure enough, Deputy Sloup starts noticing other violations on the car, like the tinted windshield. This is why you stay courteous with cops even when you believe you did nothing wrong. That’s especially true if one is being aggressive and rude, in your opinion.The real icing on the cake is the kid’s license is suspended, so he’s committed a criminal violation. Oh and he’s 19, so that starts to change everything. You can see Deputy Sloup start bracing for the coming storm of whining, threats, and all around poor behavior.But wait, it gets even better: the kid was arrested for DUI before and that’s why his license has been suspended. So he knows better and yet here he is arguing with a cop.As always, Deputy Sloup keeps his cool even as this alleged speeder throws a hissy fit and acts difficult. Did he never get disciplined as a child? Does he have any real rules to follow now? It really makes us wonder.Watch the video for yourself.[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gXY8065R5nM[/embed]
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spookyjarchivist · 1 year
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im so jaded about media now, like the magnus archives has ruined me in that ive tasted what it feels like to be treated as a normal human being and not a prop for woke points or someone’s heavy handed bid for acceptance like we need to parade our similarities or differences around to be seen, and i just cant go back
why would i want rewatch good omens when they did everything BUT the one piece of rep that everyone was asking for and was dangled in front of them?
why would i rewatch supernatural knowing dean and castiel are obviously in love and it will just get smacked down in some of the most hilariously aggressive homophobia ever put to screen?
why should i watch merlin for the first time knowing it will just be queerbaiting me like sherlock and teen wolf did before?
why should i finish hannibal when the creator was too chickenshit to just say he was writing a gay romance and i know it will never be finished?
why should i start watching mcu movies again when time after time they have done nothing but mock me and give false promises only rip the rug out and straight up mutilate character development for the sake of not being any kind of queer?
even in explicitly queer media written by queer people over half the time it feels like some huge performance waving a giant flag that says “we’re here!” instead of geniune representation of our community
like, i take solace in old books when it was illegal to print queer rep because at least then i know they were trying so hard for it to be as obvious as possible without crossing a line for a REASON
i keep seeing all these new shows that seem so good but then people will talk about how the main couple is super forced and you can tell it’s because they dont want to acknowledge the chemistry of the main character with another of the same gender, and dont even think of the token trans person getting anything good for them because it’s not happening
and yes i KNOW there’s good stuff out there, like ive heard about how amazing heartstopper is, but honestly i cant take another coming out story, like yeah im glad it’s there for the people who need it, but what about the people like me who dont HAVE a traditional “coming out” story? once i figured it out i knew who i was and i wasn’t afraid of it and i wasnt scared of telling people but i wasn’t just coming out, it’s just always came up naturally and ive never shied away from it,, and i KNOW that’s weird and i know people get pissed when you dont have coming out trauma but why does every coming of age queer story always gotta be a coming out story? like yeah we need more of those but we should also have the other too
anyway, tldr is that im a very tired queer and half the reason i dont consume much new media or even stick with old media is 100% bc no one writes queer people as people
also listen to the magnus archives and be prepared to find queer people being queer without it feeling like an oscar bait disability movie like love simon or overtly homophobic like supernatural
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the-firebird69 · 2 years
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It's so sweet I don't know what to say but he says it it's the old kit Kat and I say it too it's sweeter than that it's like the new kit kat if we had it but boy does it have a lot of magnesium in it man does that stuff make him s*** real quick that's awesome people took the challenge people have weaker bowels and Corky they're over there eating it you see some of their faces turn white and they're running to the bathroom yelling at people get out of the way see that's payback right there. And there's about a hundred of them too they can't do in the challenge and said is there yet not one of you trumps they can do this I bicycled home okay before anything happened I used a bicycle and I was pedaling almost all the way home and ate half a half a thing. I saw a hundred more get up walk over grab one split it in half and they start eating right away few minutes later they're walking around running to the restroom then there's a line in some of them s*** themselves and they're trying to clean it up and they're saying you can't you can't get in the way sometimes are s*** in the bucket that the wheel it away quickly like there's a line there was aggressively trying to attack them and our son says boy this sounds like scary monster movie all the way and yes it does so I'm going to go ahead and use it and it sounds like Trump's taking it the wrong way cuz he wants to blame someone for his absurd behavior and basically they all s*** themselves none of them can do it yeah our friend made it all the way home is at least in the line of a McDonald's
And Max said all that above and we're going to war with Trump everyone is is a huge a****** and we're dropping the thing against Ellie and she's pleased I'm going to hold off on the court thing too and vital and got his wife said why and he heard about it and he says how big he says 5,000 artillion a wave and so he's getting ready he says oh no they're going to go through everyone so we sent tons of troops out and forced him into a corridor and they still went to the wall and he felt oppressed but he did a great job and they're doing it anyways but he said I helped organize it and we got a lot more ready and we needed it and these fans are having a conniption this guy broke right through he's not a foreigner and he's incompetent and we're in trouble so they're getting ready and the building tons of ships and building wooden chips in the pulling Trump out and taking his buildings and he's saying thank you but really they're not corporate they're just these buildings and we're taking the factories now huge ones. They're coming during his minds and his factories and buildings that are left and in good and everything else the president is writing the order and per order of Mac and they're doing it as a government and then go ahead and sidestepping Tommy f for now and they're taking it all everything that he owns all his houses all his cars and he said the lawsuit should continue and he's signing up to it is getting family members too and family members of his grandson he thinks and says boy that was terrible need something that you didn't like that was horrible and tons of bile said I don't know why the hell that is it's a signaling thing so they're going ahead and trying to figure out what happened with Biden is sending and sending out an executive order with John remillard's aliases one of them is Donald Trump we going after him hard now I put in a global twist to it anywhere where you find it his operations overseas are not condoned by the United States and his operating illegally there in our name and they just wrote it up and they're sending it out too huge lots of stuff over there and it should ease the amount that comes here to a blockade that doesn't exist the building arms and armament as a blockade now huge huge weapons and they're getting it ready tell me f is astounded it's never seen people move so fast in his life has to thank Trump he says
We're moving to be part of the lawsuit and they won't let me in so I say I'm going to represent my son and he agrees so I'm going to be there and I'm going to listen to all the stuff and record and take notes it says I really shouldn't have to because usually people bother me so I'm going to do that and he's never had representation for the most part except for by that guy in Amherst and there's a story there it might be the idiot who did it to him in the first place and it says so we don't have a game and said the game is that you do your work or you hire me to do mine like you just did and the guy didn't get it he's going to get it soon
And I said 90% of the above
Bitol and Goddess Wife
Thor Freya
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