Daily fucking reminder that Luigi Mangione is innocent, completely and fully. He has been convicted of no crime. He has had no fair trial. He is a SUSPECT. Luigi Mangione is entirely innocent and everyone needs to stop parroting this insidious propaganda that he “committed” the crime he is only SUSPECTED of. He is not a murderer. He is not a criminal. He is an innocent man.
A friend of mine that works at a hospital in GA said that there's ANOTHER COVID OUTBREAK IN A FEW WINGS OF THE HOSPITAL ‼️‼️‼️‼️
Everyone we need to start taking precautions again cause clearly no one is wanting to be informative or be truthful over a lot of things going on in the US right now. First it was the Measles now this?
✨️Tummy✨️
what's the point of huge thick thighs and a big ass if she doesn't even have fucking tummy you people make me sick
OMG GUYS IM BACK AFTER MONTHS OF WRITERS BLOCK YAY
Twilight coded. Especially the scene where they touch hands in his car and she gasps like she lost something and says he's freezing 🥶
having poor circulation is great because people will touch your hand and go 'oh! you're so cold!' and for a moment you get to experience what it's like to be a vampire in a romance novel
God these are amazing 🫐🫐💕
blueberry dividers pretty please 🫐 💙
You got it anon! 🩵🌸
"guys I do not condone any of this in real life" "this is fiction" "consent is key. this is only fiction" "murder is bad irl" — I wish fanfic authors didn't feel like they had to clarify this in author's notes or else they might be accused of being abusers or worse (I admit that such disclaimers are also something I personally use for my own stuff because I feel like I had to make it clear). like... people used to not care if an author wrote dead dove fics because people used to understand that ao3 fics are not a reflection of someone's in real life views or morality in any way. people used to understand that fanfics mean what they mean; fan fiction. none of it is real. maybe it's purity culture that normalizes witch hunt and censorship in the past couple years, and therefore authors feel like they have to clarify that just because they write about violence or noncon stuff doesn't mean they're murderers or sex offenders in real life. and I think it sucks that these things (purity and cancel culture?) have made authors feel like they have to apologize for the art they created instead of being proud of their hard work and all the dedication they put into creating these art. artists should not have to feel like they have to apologize for creating art that isn't all rainbow and sunshine. artists should not have to be made to feel ashamed of their own art if it's not all rainbow and sunshine.
I don’t agree with the “you can write noncon and dark fics as long as you make sure your readers get the message that these things are bad” or “you can write noncon and dark fics if it’s your way of coping with your trauma” take either. because writers do not owe you anything. the message writers want to send to their readers — whatever that message may be, if there’s any message or moral of the story for readers to take from the stories at all — is none of your business. why writers write what they write is none of your business. remember “don’t like don’t read”. no one forces you to read anything you don’t like. dark and noncon fics are a form of creative writing and creative writing is a form of art. you can’t pressure artists into creating art that “fit your moral compass” nor can you apply your own moral compass to artists to determine if they can create dark art or not, if their reasoning behind creating dark art passes your moral compass. like… what artists create and why artists create are none of your business. and you don’t get to shame artists for creating art that you hate / art that disgusts you. what you can do is ignore the art because it clearly was not made for you and that’s okay. what isn’t okay is you harassing artists because you don’t like the things they created.
writers, embrace and be proud of your works. as long as all the trigger warnings are tagged properly, you have nothing to apologize for.
Maeve : even our friends don't want us around
Homelander : Starlight's not my friend, I only tolerate A-Train, no one likes Deep and Noir's basically a pet
Deep : are you guys gonna let him say that nobody likes me?
the rest of the seven : 👨🏼🦯
your roommate was a strange man.
can you even really call him a roommate if he's only home for one week every few months? but when he is home, simon riley is a pretty good roommate.
he fixes the heater that's been broken for two months, he replaces the faucet after it drenches you for turning it on too quick, he even takes a look at your car when you mention how your breaks have been squeaking. but other than his penchant for whiskey and the color black, you really don't know much about the man you've been living with for more than a year.
he's in the military, you know that for sure. he works with a team because he tells you that you have a striking resemblance to a man names "soap"? you take that as a compliment even if he didn't really mean it to be one. he wears combat boots even when he's off, you buy him a pair for his birthday that he doesn't take off until soles wear out. but all of these are merely observations, you don't actually know anything about him.
and it's not like you don't try to find out more things about him. you search his name on google- nothing. you ask him about his social media- 'don't got any'. you never ask about family because he never brings them up. all you have is a phone number and the license plate on his beat up dodge charger.
so, getting a call in the middle of the night, three months after you'd last seen simon, about a mission taking a bad turn and simon taking a bullet for an american private. all you really manage to catch after that was the hospital's address and a room number to ask for.
you feel like you're in a trance as you pack yourself an overnight bag, then move to simon's room and just start grabbing the softest clothes you can find and a bunch of snacks from his side of the pantry, then you're off.
you didn't want to see desperate or overly worried about a man whose favorite song you don't know but you're pushing into the high 90s on your way down. and your mind isn't clear until you're standing in front of a tired looking nurse in sanrio scrubs.
"um, i need to get into room 1206?" you barely choke the words out before she's getting up to lead you, "oh! mrs. riley, they told me you were on your way."
"oh-i'm, well" and if you hadn't watch so many hospital shows where they don't let anyone but family into the room you would have just told her the truth, but you just shut your mouth, give her a tight smile, and follow her down the hallway.
the room doesn’t take long to get to, but the door is shut and you can hear the people inside talking. but the nurse doesn't even hesitate to swing the door wide open, "mr. riley, your wife is here."
and then there are four sets of eyes trained on you, but all you can look at is the hulking figure of your roommate sat up in his comically small hospital bed. and all you can muster up is a slight smile and a small wave in his direction before the bags you're holding fly straight onto the floor.
"oh, shoot- i'm sorry. i didn't know if you needed anything so i just grabbed some things from your dresser- and some of those granola bars you like, and there should be a gatorade somewhere in there. and, oh my god, i'm sorry, how are you? i came as soon as they called, and they said you got shot, and-"
"calm down, sweetheart, or yer gonna be the one that needs a hospital bed." ok, simon could still speak that was good, and he was conscious and remembered you.
"i'm sorry. i just got worried, and-" simon knew you well enough to know that you'll worry yourself to death if he lets you keep going, "nothin' to worry about, sweetheart, pull up a chair, you've 'ad stressful few hours."
you practically fell back into the chair that the man with the kindest brown eyes you've ever seen pushed towards you. and for the first time since you arrived, you took a deep, long breath. hand clasped in your lap as you take simon in.
"feeling any better, mrs. riley?"
"she's fine, garrick."
'garrick' seems utterly unphased by your roommate's- husband's? you can address that later- tone and just continues to smile at you.
"c'mon simon, we just wannae ken 'bout the bonnie lass yer hidin' from yer pals. ye 'aven't even introduced us." you're glad the scot waited until you'd calmed down to start speaking because it took you at least 30 seconds to realize he was even talking about you.
"sweetheart these are the boys, boys this is sweetheart, now fuck off before you scare 'er away"
they didn’t seem like they were going to leave until the older man practically dragged them out saying something about the heaping loads of paperwork they had to do. so will a little wave and a cheeky smile, they were gone.
"so, um, ho-how are you feeling? they, uh, said that you got shot?"
" 'm fine, sweetheart, better knowing i've got a bird at home who'll come runnin' cause she thinks 'm hurt, yeah wife?"
yeah, maybe you'll let the mrs. riley thing go on for a little bit longer.
idk i just really like the idea of simon just picking someone random and being like 'yeah this is it, you're mine now' and they have literally no idea
Seth clearwater x Male!Vampire! Reader
Summary: Seth forgot yalls two year anniversary due to the hustle of Emily, Sam's wife, the birth of the twins. But thankfully he knows just how to make you melt for him 💕🥀
You weren't having a good day, whatsoever. Seth and your anniversary was two nights ago, yet he completely forgot. Sure, Emily went into labor that day, but you didn't even get a text! Besides that, as usual in Forks, it was raining, ew. Your job was hell, too many customers, and being understaffed wasn't for the weak. Sam was also refusing you from seeing the twins, but it was completely understandable. Fresh babies, Emily was still bleeding from labor, and well, you're a vampire.
You pulled into the driveway of Seth and your small cabin in the Rez, soft browns and dark greens greeted you along with the scent of dog and rain. Seth's old beat up red truck was in the garage, but there was no clue if he was home. You slid off your shoes by the other sets in the kitchen, slowly making your way to the bedroom, first you weren't paying any sort of attention till you heard his nervous heart beat. Turning you were greeted with a Seth that was only in a pair of boxers, your favorite ones matteroffactly, and on your nightstand was a small basket of things you could use.
"I know I forgot our anniversary, but-." He cut himself off with a huff when you walked away towards the bathroom. "Dammit baby. I'm sorry!" He groaned as he heard the door close. He'd have to try harder than that, wouldn't he?
When you got back into the room, there was a fresh cup of warm blood and a few treats you knew he put the blood pills in so you wouldn't get sick from the human food part. You sighed as he wrapped his arms around your delicate hips, "Let me make it up to you. How can i?"
You leaned back into him, before smirking, "Baby me." And he paused, "I do that anyways." He kissed at your neck, "No, no. Like give me princess treatment."
He huffed a small laugh at your words, "Yeah? That's what you want? Fine."
He sat you on the bed, grabbing your Noir body cream that Leah had gifted you religiously the last three years for Christmas. Seth and you had only dated for two, but you were a lot closer to the pack than the Cullens were, surprisingly. Mostly cause you actually had a human sense of humor and could take Paul's moodswings like it was nothing.
He went to work, babying you as you had called it. Rubbing your legs, thighs, and then your hips. His lips grazed your skin as he worked his way up. You'd sigh here and there cause even though you didn't feel much, your work would somehow manage to wear you out. "Work was terrible, wasn't it?" He asked between soft kisses at your thighs, you grunted a soft yes, leaning back into bed as he made it to your sides.
You let out a breathless sigh as his tounge traced your v-lines, he smirks before biting at the sensitive skin under your naval. "Seth, don't tease." You grunted, and since he was working to get back in your good graces, he stopped before making you turn over to lay on your stomach. You whined in soft pain as he massaged the back of your thighs, those were always the worst! As he made his way to your back, you could feel him settle right behind the curve of your ass. You grabbed a pillow to rest your head on, feeling his hard erection press into your ass every so often. It was an amazement as to what could get him hard, which was almost anything as long as it was you. Guessing that since you were butt ass naked in bed, his big hands massaging at you, it couldn't be helped that he was turned on.
Even after he had finished massaging you, he kept his groin pressed right into your ass, hand dipping under your left hip to try and find your own cock. "Need ya so bad, prince." He mumbled, nibbling at your shoulder. Prince, the nickname he'd give you only when he wanted to get his way, sneaky bastard.
You arched lightly and sighed as his warm, smooth hand wrapped around your hard cock. His thumb grazes your tip, and he let out a soft whine as he felt the precum leaking. Afterward, it didn't need words. You and Seth knew each other like worn-out books. He had you on your side, a leg hooked at his hip, back ti his chest as he fucked into you. One hand at your hip, the other at your throat. Sure, you didn't breathe, but the kink was hot enough. Besides, he could easily snap your neck if he wanted. Your own length wasn't neglected, no you had your delicate hand wrapped around it, stroking it in tune with his thrusts. He was already ass drunk, as he usually got. Letting out soft growls on how you're his mate and how good it feels to be inside you. You loved Seth, dearly, but damn his cock was perfect. Not overly big, a good 5 1/2 inches with just enough girth to stretch you out. You could remember the first time yall had sex, he was so embarrassed cause you had at least two inches more. But you snapped that shit in the bud quickly, you didn't need that stereotypical "Bigger guys are better" bullshit. You had your mate and that was that.
" 'M gonna come." You mumbled as your ass tightened around him, his thrusts had been sloppy the last five minutes. His own release was impending. "God, yes. Do it, baby." He panted before asking softly, "Bite me?"
Was it dangerous? Yes. Was it stupid to put yourselves in this predicament? Also yes, but Sethy loved to feel your fang sink into him without taking his blood, and you had learned to not have your venom release so it was easier. You grabbed his arm, kissing at the place you'd bite, grazing your fangs before sinking them into him. He whimpered in relief and slammed into you a few times before you felt his hot release fill you up. You pulled your mouth away, kissing the bite and the small blood dots as his other hand pumped your cock till it spilled itself all over the bed.
The both of you cleaned up before calling it a night. The rain was still going, and you cradled your sweet wolf boy while he slept. Oh what you'd do to never let this change.
21 y/o, MDNI, 18+, I just write and reblog stuffs (ФωФ) ☆ Reqs Open! ☆
120 posts