#{-reblog-}

[l0rd-kromer]

WHERE'S MY FACE DAVID?

[meloribbons]

It’s murder, was it worth it?

[dangerouslyfleetingmanticore]

We just watched two people go through the exact same thing. Succumbing to having the most important elements of their humanity stripped away by the hive.

Manousos values rules and the old way of life, the physical and the material. He leaves money and apologies for people who don't exist anymore, but he doesn't want to acknowledge the hive's existence. He is resilient and stubborn to a fault, and that's what makes him human. He won't let them do anything for him. Carol says she's independent but she doesn't care when they give her things, because that's not surrendering to her like it is to Manousos. Her humanity lies in her art, and her grief, and her love.

So while there's a clear dichotomy in Manousos siphoning gas to retain his car, his material possession, the proof of his journey, while Carol keeps switching cars whenever she wants... Manousos setting his car on fire so they can't have that part of the world, his part of the world, while Carol waits for the voicemail to finish before she orders Gatorade... Manousos struggling to survive in the wilderness while Carol has a lavish dinner... it's just there to show that they both have their own battles to fight. Carol is trying her hardest to stay connected to her memories of Helen, to art, to herself, when she has been given anything she wants but deprived of everything that gives meaning to her life. And Manousos is doing his best to stay independent, to trust himself and his hope, because that's all he has, and everything they want to give him comes at the cost of his sense of self.

So Manousos, beaten by the physical environment, has no choice but to succumb and accept physical help. Accept that he wasn't good enough to make it. That he's never going to be able to save the world. What does it matter if they help him? They've won, they're here, and he can't do anything about it. It's not his world anymore.

Carol, starved of human connection, launches into the arms of the next best thing -- the human mask of the completely inhuman entity who tortured her; who stole Helen's life, and is now stealing hers.

The vampire has been invited over the threshold and is now draining the blood that keeps them alive, that makes them who they are.

Congratulations, hive. Ya did it. Isn't it lonely at the top?

[zzestyjesty]

Me when something LGBTQ+ happens in the LGBTQ+ series with the LGBTQ+ characters that I watch because they are LGBTQ+ and have LGBTQ+ characters: 🤯

[redranc0r]

knighter is so fine bro I had to

character belongs to @thepipiuw !

[adjpngs]

⁽¹⁻³⁰⁾ the dog company (pinterest) (site)

[twd-bee3]

Nothing But Denim

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Daryl lets you ride his thick thighs.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ mdni, smut with a sprinkle of plot, semi-public sex, thigh riding, female reader (she/her) with female anatomy, soft dom!daryl, needy!reader, use of the term 'good girl', season 6, pre-established relationship, no use of Y/N

Word count: 846 words

A/N: I cannot believe that this is my last kinktober post. This event was quite the challenge for me, but I'm so glad that I did it. It allowed me to experiment with writing Negan and Rick, which I was hesitant to experiment with. Thank you guys for all of the support!!

This is for kinktober day 31 - Thigh riding.

Masterlist | D.D. smut masterlist

Daryl had only been on the supply run for twenty-four hours, but that was enough for you to get pent-up. You weren't always this needy, he'd just created a monster. It was borderline pathetic how much you missed him. It wasn't just your mind, though. Your whole body was aching with need.

After a few more hours of completing mindless chores as a vain distraction, you finally heard the sound of Daryl's motorcycle pull into the driveway. Part of you wanted to run out there and greet him, but you decided against it. You didn't want to look completely desperate. Instead, you waited inside on the couch.

More time passed, and he still wasn't coming inside. What was taking him so long? Unable to wait any longer, you went out on the porch and there he was. Your man was sitting on the porch swing smoking a cigarette. You knew it was juvenile, but you were frustrated that he hadn't come to check on you first. Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow and spoke up.

“Forgettin' somethin'?”

As if he didn't see you standing there, Daryl flinched slightly and looked up with a guilty expression. He hadn't even realized that you were home. Usually, he'd come give you a kiss before decompressing after a run. He blew smoke and looked apologetic.

“I'm sorry, darlin'. I thought you were asleep. Figured I'd have a smoke and then come see you.”

“You always come see me first, though.”

Your tone was whiny, and you kicked yourself for it. You were a grown woman, not a neglected puppy. Shifting on your feet, you looked slightly embarrassed, and you waited for his response.

“Oh, honey. I ain't forget 'bout you. Come sit with me.”

Daryl shifted on the porch swing and patted his lap. You lit up at the idea and hurried over to sit with him. God, you were pitiful. Climbing into his lap, you shifted to get comfortable on his thigh and realized that the friction hit a certain spot. You were still wearing your sleep shorts, so there was only a thin layer of fabric between your cunt and the denim of his jeans. He clocked what you were doing immediately.

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I really missed you.”

“Take what you need. Ain't goin' nowhere.”

Holding the cigarette in one hand, he wrapped his other arm around you and helped you get settled. He would've been worried about someone walking past the porch, but it was fairly dark out. Daryl had given you permission, so you wasted no time rocking back and forth on his denim-clad thigh. The corner of his mouth turned upward and he blew smoke. He loved seeing his girl all worked up like this.

Feeling how wet you were through the fabric of his jeans, Daryl felt himself getting hard, and his breathing grew shaky. His eyes tracked the way your breasts bounced as you ground against him. You were a fucking vision. His free hand was still wrapped around your waist, and he started tracing nonsensical patterns on your skin.

“That's it, baby. Keep goin'.”

It didn't take long for you to find a comfortable rhythm, rutting against Daryl's thigh. A damp spot was slowly spreading across the denim. You were soaking. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. Your whimpers were driving him crazy. The bulge in his pants was visible, and you made a mental note to take care of that later. For now, you kept rolling your hips and the pleasure pooled low in your belly.

Daryl could tell that you were getting closer by the way you were panting and your pace quickened. You were so desperate that it was almost adorable. Your boyfriend would never admit it, but seeing you like this was one of his guilty pleasures. He was tempted to go on longer runs just to see how wound up you'd get.

“You're gettin' close, huh? I can feel it, sweet girl. Let go whenever you're ready.”

Before you could respond, you were hit with a wave of pleasure, and you opened your mouth to cry out his name. A large hand clasped over your mouth before any sound came out, and Daryl gently shushed you.

“Shhh, don't wake the neighbors. Ain't nobody get to see you like this, but me. I've got you, darlin'.”

As you rode the wave of your ecstasy, Daryl rubbed soft circles on your back and held you against his chest. He'd also finished in his jeans and the material was sticky in multiple areas. This was going to be quite the cleanup. He focused on your pleasure, though.

The two of you caught your breaths, and you lifted your face from his shoulder. Daryl's cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were hazy. If that's how he looked, you could only imagine how wrecked your appearance was. You stood up on shaky legs and took his hand in yours.

“C'mon, let's go inside and get this mess cleaned up.”

“You're the one that made it, sweetheart.”

Taglist: @imadisneyprincessiswear @josephisblog @t-folklore13 @madyb17 @storiesofthev01d @aphroangelis @dixondisease @angelwings-crossbowstrings @idkwthgoitmww @smuttfuelled @glennseyeball @tvduxveil @death-in-a-tar0t-card @spookysturnz @nichemint @asparagus-antics @xanaxiii @hail-yourselves @viviandarkbloom11