#LIKE IT WAS ALWAYS GOING TO BE MILES I *LOVE* THAT ITS MILES BUT ITS LIKE

[tulipsforvin]

if you dont mind me requesting another... may i request where the s/o reader is a noble with a really kind heart, like she owns a bakery and she loves to give pastries or breads to the peasants for free, and another noble didn't like it and burn the bakery down? how would the brothers react? you can do it with any of the moriarty brothers! sorry if its too detailed :]

NOBLE F!READER'S BAKERY BURNS DOWN ✦

🌷: reactions featuring the moriarty brothers

🌷: why have only 1 when you can have all 3? this is so unnecessary but i thought i'd spoil you (all) a bit. p.s you're fine, don't worry :)

⚠️: CW! slight desc of gore in william's part, skip if uncomfortable.

WILLIAM J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— it was the kindness you had that had him first crawling to you. being a noble you could have done many things; plan extravagant balls and tea parties, spend money on all sorts of items. but instead you opened a bakery, giving away baked goods for free. he had become distressingly attracted to you.

william's red glaring and gleaming eyes could be seen from miles away. he thought he'd drop by your workplace during his lunch break from university. he thought he'd enjoy a small meal and a small conversation with you, but instead he had to watch from feet apart as final, dying embers fell to the ground. the bakery that you and he loved was gone.

“will—” you sobbed, practically falling apart in your lover's arms. you had worked incredibly hard for this, only for all your blood, sweat and tears to be turned to ashes at the mere tantrum of an angered man.

“oh, my love.” william cooed sympathetically. his fingers tightened around you. he was quiet, but his narrowed eyes and tight jaw was enough to indicate what was about to happen in the near future.

over the next few days, which had not really took that long at all—he was able to track down the noble who had dared ruined your efforts and made you cry.

a man as corrupt as the noble who had burned down your bakery was more than enough to irk him. making you cry was another contributing factor to tip him off. just as the man unable to tolerate the warmth of kindness that you provided, william set all of his means of income ablaze. and just as blind he was to dismiss the happiness that appeared on the common people's faces, he made sure to gouge out the man's eyes so that he could see nothing at all.

and perhaps he might have gone a little overboard with his ways in his wrath—but he reasoned that if it were the divine themselves who brought forth tears from your eyes, not even the depths of damnation could hold him back from extracting retribution on your behalf. nobody could, would or should harm you.

ALBERT J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— during every visit of his to the orphanages he would find you already there, distributing all kinds of pastries and bread to the little kids. he found your kindness and charitable personality extremely charming. he had fallen in love with you.

fast forward to a few months and he had already begun wooing you. imagine his anger as he watched the happy-go-lucky and overall wonderful person he'd fallen deeply in love with lose their smile once their bakery had been burned at the hands of a dirty noble.

albert wouldn't just stand by. he was subtle—wore a charming smile but used his expert tongue to slowly chip away at the respect others had of the noble. it was backhanded compliments at first, then small insults that he brushed off as a joke, and then full on accusations as public opinion of him began to dive low at an alarmingly fast rate.

by the time he was done the noble was stripped from all respect and sympathy, forced to live an isolated life from others and unable to show face to anybody ever again.

of course he wouldn't stop at just that, though. he holds out his hand at you, warm and enveloping fingers wrapping around you as he pulls you up from your sadness. (and he always will). “how about i chip in enough funds to help you rebuild your bakery?”

“no, you already do enough for me anyway.” it would be extremely expensive. you possibly couldn't ask him to do this, but he seemed to have other plans.

albert smiles, voice teasing but comforting all the same. “then, how about this; i pay for all the repairs and you let me eat for free whenever in the future?”

LOUIS J. MORIARTY ‧₊˚✩彡

— it was a secret but sometimes louis went out of his way to see you. even if the sun had already begun to set he would walk an extra mile to buy grocery from a grocery shop that was situated right besides your bakery. on several occasions he would watch you, in all your kindness, feed the mouths that came to you and it honestly warmed his heart to no degree.

with a few pushes from his brothers he had finally began dating you. he loved you dearly and everybody knew he became violently devoted when he loved.

now if we push aside the obvious assassination attempts on that "imbecile of a man" (his words, not mine) by louis and his colleagues trying to hold him back, he's actually quite tame. again, only if we push aside the homicidal factors like the anonymous death threats and the bloody knives sent to the noble.

with a little help from his brothers, you're back on your own feet again (louis sacrificed the noble's legs in exchange). and louis even drops by every now and then to help you with baking and other works!

“do you need help with that?” he looks at you from behind your shoulder, watching you do your work.

“nope, i'm fine.” you smile up at him but he still grabs the batter from you and does it in your stead.

“how about you go sit down and enjoy a glass of cold juice or something similar of the sort?” he says calmly, already putting on an extra apron.

and in the end, you oblige as louis guides you out the room. because at the end of the day, not everybody can make lemon tarts as good as he does anyway.

[6thofapril1917]

don't wanna be alone anymore [ken lemmons x oc]

A/N: the first in what will (hopefully) be a series of maggie/ken drabbles and one-shots. this one is pretty stream of consciousness and shifts tense so i apologize if it's incomprehensible. in my defense uni has been kicking my ass lately (one more week of the semester left, thank GOD) ken lemmons x oc. word count: 1.3k. crossposted on ao3.

For Maggie Zielinski, romance is something that she watches other people get to experience. She’s long been resigned to the fact that it isn’t something she’s meant to experience herself.

She doesn’t know what it is about her. She certainly isn’t bad looking, she understands that much. Clear blue eyes, full lips, and an even fuller chest. Still, that had never stopped her from becoming the butt of all the boys’ jokes back in grade school.

And it’s not like she’s never had friends. No, Maggie’s always had loads of friends. She knows how to work a crowd, how to say the right things at the right time to set the whole room laughing. Even before she met Vee, Loretta, Mabel, and the rest of the ground crew, she’d had a whole gaggle of friends back home in Detroit. 

Her main circle was a raucous group of six—Ida and Annemarie, Nina, Victoria, Victoria’s brother Paul, and Ida’s cousin Vinny. They’d been friends since the very first day of junior high, maybe more out of the novelty of the experience than anything. For all that Detroit was a metropolis, its neighborhoods could be as insular as any backwater town. In Maggie’s world of newly-arrived immigrants and babcie who watched the streets like hawks, where everyone worked at the same auto plant and everyone knew everyone else’s business, it was nice to see some new faces.

Maggie loved her Detroit friends. She loved their laughs, their smiles, their inside jokes and their secrets. She tried her best to help them out when they needed it, to offer a shoulder to cry on or an ear to talk off. She gave her friends everything she could. It was just a shame that they never did the same for her.

As the years passed, Maggie found herself confronting a terrifying reality—that for all she was devoted to her friends, they would never love her as much as she loved them. 

Sure, things were fine when it was just two or three of them alone. Catching a matinee with Victoria, or going out to lunch with Ida and Annemarie—here, Maggie felt comfortable. Victoria would always riff on whatever movie they were seeing, making her dissolve into giggles. Ida and Annemarie would insist on paying for Maggie’s meal, and they’d stay in their booth for hours on end, just chatting the day away.

But when it was the six of them all together, Maggie couldn’t help but feel that something was off. That there were things that the other five were privy too that she wasn’t—and to which she maybe wasn’t meant to be. There’d be some new in-joke that nobody ever bothered to explain, some party that she hadn’t been invited to, some other get-together that they’d forgotten to tell her about. 

Well, two could play at that game.

When Maggie enlisted as a technician with the Army Air Force, she didn’t tell any of them what she had done.

Nina and Vinny, newly engaged, spotted her the day before she left for basic training. The image of the couple stopping dead in their tracks, eyes wide as they took in Maggie’s new uniform and fully-packed suitcase, filled with a determination that would carry her thousands of miles away from Poletown, was forever burned into her mind.

Maggie wasn’t sad that she’d be missing the wedding. It wasn’t like she was going to be chosen to be a bridesmaid. Money was still tight, after all. There was only enough in the budget to get dresses made for Annamarie and Victoria. Ida, of course, would be the maid of honor.

(She understands, Maggie says. No, Nina, really. It’s fine. She understands completely.)

(She cries herself to sleep into Agnes’ shoulder that night.)

When she meets the Mavens in basic training, she spends the first few months of their friendship waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

It’s not that she’s awkward around them; in fact, it’s exactly the opposite. The four of them get on like a house on fire. Loretta with her witty comebacks and shining black curls, Mabel with her dry wit and hands that always smell of chain grease, and Vee with her earnest modesty and the snapping lens of her Kodak 35. For all her faults, Maggie’s never had a problem charming people. It’s getting them to stay that’s the difficult part. 

Is she boring? She doesn’t think she’s boring. Especially not here in the army, where stories of home practically form a currency among the enlisted women and men. Besides, Maggie knows how to spin a yarn, to make even the most mundane story from a life spent in auto plants and dim garages seem like something out of an adventure magazine.

But that’s never enough, is it? It wasn’t enough to keep the people she thought were her friends, the people she loved more than life itself, from leaving her in the dust. It wasn’t enough to keep her from becoming a veritable untouchable among the boys in grade school, the kind of girl you would ask out to the pictures on a dare, only to leave her stranded at the ticket booth. Even the boys who considered her friends were just that—friends. Never anything more. While Ida and Victoria and Nina and Annamarie were busy with first kisses and sneaking out of bedroom windows late at night, Maggie sat in her room and watched them grow up without her.

There’s only so many rejections you can take before you start to think that romance, hell, even reciprocated platonic love, just isn’t something that you’re made for. Only so many missed engagements and plans made behind one’s back until you start to think that maybe there’s something, some reprehensible quality inherent to yourself, that pushed people away. 

So, she holds her breath and waits. Waits for the Mavens eventually grow tired of her. 

But they don’t.

Because it’s there, isn’t it? The love.

It’s in the filmstrips Vee develops late at night after their shifts, holed up in the makeshift darkroom she’s set up in an abandoned storage closet. It’s in the magazines Loretta always passes to her once she’s finished reading them, telling her to use it for the scrapbook, there’s some great stuff in there. It’s in the way Mabel taught her how to ride a bike way back during basic training, shocked that she had never learned, but oh so willing to help her try. Maggie can never forget the way Mabel had cheered when she finally got the hang of pedaling.

And then, of course, there’s Ken.

When she kisses him that night on the floor of Rosie’s Riveters, she burns with shame and tears, shed and unshed for her siblings and for Cleven and for Ken and for herself. She waits for him to recoil, to glare, to tell her not to do it again. At best, she waits for him to let her down easy. But he doesn’t.

That night he kisses her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters, and it just makes her want to cry harder, because she doesn’t deserve it. Her brother is dead, her sister is missing, Major Cleven is God knows where, and she completely lost it at Rosenthal, so what right does she have to be touched like this, to be held like this? None. None at all.

At the same time, she doesn’t have it in her to fight herself. The floor of the nose is cold, and Ken is so, so warm. The kind of warmth she wishes that she could crawl into and live inside of. East Anglia is chilly this time of year.

She shifts, opening her mouth to his, and for a moment wonders what sins she’s committed to have had this feeling denied to her for twenty-one years. Yet there’s no use wondering, is there?

Ken loves her. That much is clear.

She just has to be ready to accept it. And after two decades of loneliness, that’s easier said than done.

[almonds-nsfw-world]

CUM EATER ft. BOOTHILL, JING YUAN, AVENTURINE, SUNDAY.

ׂ╰┈➤ BOOTHILL is definitely a cum eater, he'll lick you so clean and relish the feeling of its sticky warmth upon the skin of his cheeks while BOOTHILL shines you that toothy grin of his, "Darlin', you really went all out, didn't ya? And all for me. I fudgin' love it." If his cheeks could flush, they fucking would while all you could do was glance down at BOOTHILL through those lashes of yours with that fucked out face. It nearly brings him to a short circuit every time. But you could only yelp at the feeling of his metal, sharp teeth gently piercing themselves into the flesh of your thigh as a groan of ecstasy could be heard, "but I ain't done with ya yet."

ׂ╰┈➤ JING YUAN seems to be the type to watch you swallow every drop of his own, the way your tongue would swirl around the throbbing head of his cock before placing your cute, little mouth upon it to capture the hot, thick spurts left JING YUAN in a state of whimpers and complet dumbification. And let me tell you, JING YUAN is definitely panting with his cheeks all red while his fingers tighten themselves around your hair, "You know how to make me weak. It's exhilarating. I needed this." His cock would soften against your lips - and he'd watch it brush against your lips every time.

ׂ╰┈➤ AVENTURINE will literally swallow every drop, he'd even go the extra mile to lick you right clean while his eyes would never stray from your own. If this was how you wanted it, then by all means, he'll give it to you. He knows exactly what makes you tick and AVENTURINE would curl his fingers around your walls once last time before he'd pull his lips away - a pop sound being heard as that sly smile of his would slither across those sinful lips of his. But in all honesty, his reaction and emotions will all depend on how far you both are in terms of either using one another...or falling for each other, "Use me all you want, darling, I always get something in return from the gambles I make."

ׂ╰┈➤ SUNDAY would have you quivering against his mouth, having had felt the warmth of your juices leaking onto his lips over and over again. His need to drive you to pure submission and for his name to be fallen from your lips with tears down your cheeks is a necessity. To have you at his mercy. And fuck, you really are as you watch SUNDAY through wet lashes and flushed cheeks - watching the way his tongue slowly ravished itself around you, swirling itself around every spot of cum left behind from your quivering ecstasy. You could barely take anymore. Oh to hear you beg for him to stop is like music to his ears as his wings ruffled and spread out in mockery to your words, "You're exquisite. The sound of my name from your lips makes me think that perhaps you'd like to come undone for me again."

©2024 almond, do not steal, translate or repost elsewhere.

[beaulesbian]

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023)

So we're just supposed to let people die because some algorithm says that that's supposed to happen? You realize how messed up that sounds, right?

[box-dwelling]

Sometimes a joke is for you and you alone

Id under the cut

A sprite trace of ace attorney characters dressed in outfits of characters from the 23rd season of classic Doctor who. On a background of the 6th doctors tardis interior

From left to right is

Maya Fey as Peri brown

Phoenix Wright as the 6th doctor

Athena Cykes as Mel Bush

Miles Edgeworth as the valeyard

Kristoph Gavin as the Master

[fellhellion]

I’m sorry I have to speak my truth lmao it’s a little bit hilarious that kingpin is stylistically offered such flourish and creativity, when writing wise he’s so fucking generic.

[oflgtfol]

i love new york so much. separated by hundreds and hundreds of miles, no matter where i go, i can always be guaranteed to see a random "I ❤️ NY" decal on the side of a major highway

[chiefmartinbrody]

Watching all of the Defenders Netflix shows. So far I’ve finished:

Daredevil seasons 1 & 2

Jessica Jones seasons 1 & 2

Luke Cage seasons 1 & 2

Iron Fist seasons 1 & 2

The Punisher season 1

The Defenders

And while I have a million thoughts about every show, one has me losing my mind-

I CANNOT BELIEVE WE DIDN’T GET IRON FIST SEASON 3: THE MISADVENTURES OF DANNY RAND AND WARD MEACHUM 🥺

Whelp. Onto Daredevil S3. Finally 😭🙌

[even-if-in-another-time]

YOURE DATING SOMEONE???? HOW??? WHEN???

THIS IS THE THIRD ASK AJDJDKBDKDBDJD IM DECEASED /POS

[kirbyskisses]

dear non-spanish speakers writing spiderverse fanfiction (or anything with spanglish),

in spanglish you don’t switch by word, you switch by phrase.

it’s not:

“[first part of the sentence in english], [second part of the sentence in english], mi amor.”

“[full english sentence], querida.”

it’s:

“[first part of the sentence in english], [segunda parte de la frase en español], mi amor.”

-

also miles is boricua, miguel is mexican. they have two different accents and use different vocabulary for certain words.

also miles is “nyourican” - a puerto rican native to new york - while his mom is directly from the island, so there are differences there, too, because his spanish is more influence by new york english. 

here’s some good references that aren’t google translate (which usually pulls from spain, a country that speaks vastly differently from latin america)

SpanishDict

WordReference

here have some random videos on different slang/spanish accents:

Puerto Rico

Mexico (1) (2)

-

in spanish most words are gendered, so most feminine words end in a and masculine/gender neutral words end in o. adding ito/ita makes something cuter, smaller and more affectionate.

spanish nicknames that aren’t “mi amor”

“querido/a” - darling

“cariño” - dear (always masculine regardless, of who its being said to)

“mi princesa/príncipe” - my prince/princess

“mi rey/reina” - my king/queen

“papí/mamí” - can be used in any way; romantic, sexual, familial for one’s parent or child, or just platonically

“tesoro” - treasure

also spanish is a language that uses adjectives as terms of affection both cute ones and ones that might sound insensitive in english

gordo (fat), flaco (skinny), negro (black), blanco (white), linda (pretty), bella (beautiful), morena (brown skin), etc.

and like most languages that are not english, spanish has multiple ways of saying i love you.

“te amo” - romantic

“te quiero” - familial, platonic (although there’s nothing wrong with using it romantically)

see also:

te adoro - i adore you

te deseo - i want you

te necesito - i need you

 and, of course, they can vary regionally too.

please use this because i have read a lot of really well written things that take me out of it because the use of spanglish is terrible. don’t just go on your presumptions that spanish/spanglish works in the same way that english does.

buena suerte, gringos.

- signed your friendly neighborhood afro-latina

[tamarrud]

Hi, I'm sorry if this is a dumb question. Gaza has been has been bombarded, cut form electricity, not received aid, etc. So how do we get pictures and videos of what's happening there? Because surely , Israel would've cut internet at the same time than electricity.

I'm not trying to deny what's happening in Palestine , just understanding better. Where I live there's not coverage or news about it in the media so all I know is from social medias and we all know we can't trust everything on here.

Thanks

I think that’s a fair question to have.

Palestinians have always had to be creative when it comes to finding ways of survival.

For starters, when this aggression was in its early stages, telecom companies like PalTel would assure everyone that their coverage is built to last longer than other companies because, according to their CEO, they have been preparing for war for 15 years. For example, contrary to what other telecom companies do, PalTel run their cables way deeper than necessary to ensure less effects of bombing.

Later though, even PalTel had to go out of service for the most part due to Israel’s relentless bombing. Not to mention, Israel deliberately targets and kills telecom company workers who even try to repair damages to what remained of the network.

Now, the only viable option that Palestinians in Gaza have to connect with the outside world is in fact through e-SIMs. This initiative was started by Egyptian activist Mirna El Helbawi which you can actually donate to and help connect people in Gaza to reach their loved ones and to get help when needed. We hear stories every day of people not being able to notify the civil defense or medics about wounded people following airstrikes who later succumb to their injuries.

As for electricity, at the beginning of all of this carnage, people would use generators. This is actually quite a normal practice as the electricity in Gaza was never provided consistently so people would switch to generators regularly. However, generators are powered by fuel, which is something else that Israel cut off the strip.

So when people and shops ran out of fuel, people started utilising solar panels and continue to do that as their main source to charge phones. Some people would even start applying a fee to allow people to use their charging stations, which are usually set up in tents or on top of cars. Others would walk miles every day to access free solar powered charging stations to be able to charge their phones.

Still, Israel started targeting solar panels specifically so they are not as widely available as before and the dust and debris from bombing rendered a lot of those panels useless. Some people started using car batteries to set up charging stations now. 

With all of that, connections are weak and spotty and some people literally travel to other areas under so much threat just so they can connect and hear the voices of their loved ones. I was actually watching a video earlier today that shows people going on hilltops, raising their arms up hoping to "catch" a signal. 

When it comes to the pictures and videos, remember that what you’re seeing, with all its magnitude, is a drop in a sea of Israeli terror against Gaza. Journalists have literally sacrificed their lives trying to get the word out. Kids started to record and share videos because even they realise that this horror is too much for them to bear alone. This is why it is crucial to amplify their voices and share their stories because they’re literally doing it in the most impossible of situations. 

[suncoved]

OUCH! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x clumsy!fem!reader

summary; rafe wouldn't trade his clumsy girlfriend for the world.

warnings ; bit of blood (blood nose), fluffy fluff, ooc rafe fsss

you let out a huff to yourself as you reach your hand up to your forehead, clutching it softly and praying to yourself that you weren't sweating profusely. it was deathly hot in the outerbanks today, and your usually 5 minute walk to the cameron house had slowly turned into 15. you did not work well with heat, even after living in the obx for your entire life.

you knew if you called rafe and asked him to come get you at your house he probably would, but you wanted to have some dignity.

trying not to explode with happiness, you stepped into the doorway of the cameron house. with the ac cooling your body, you sighed in relief and made your way to the kitchen. you were always welcome at rafe's, you were there more than you were at your own house.

you heard someone yell your name behind you, whipping around to see rafe's little sister wheezie bolting towards you. "hi wheezie girl" you said as she really knocked you down from the force of her embrace. you had known wheezie since she was a baby and she loved and adored you like a big sister.

you ruffled her hair as she hugged you, though you were both quick to pull back from the heat still prevalent in your body temperature. "how'd the algebra test go?" you asked, adjusting her glasses that were now crooked on her face.

"not good, another D" she sighed, moving towards the kitchen counter as your eyes followed her movements. "its ok wheeze. you'll do better next time, i know you will." she smiled at you lovingly, before turning her eyes back to the current math question she was working on in her book.

you brought yourself to the kitchen cabinet, reaching in to pull out a glass. you loved rafes house, it was beautiful and clean and it had all your favourite things. food, blankets, a pool, an endless array of books and rafe, of course.

wait. where was rafe?

"where's your brother wheeze?" you asked, taking a sip out of your now full cup of water. "he went down to the gym with topper and kelce a bit ago, he's in one of his moods" she sighed, referring to the particularly touchy moods rafe gets in every once in a while.

which means he's extra pissed off than usual.

good.

you said goodbye to wheezie and made your way back out into the heat, walking down the steps and around the house to where the camerons gym was. you heard the loud rap music from miles away, the grunts of the boys echoing louder and louder and you got closer.

you got distracted from the damage of the hurricane on the shore of the beach outside the cameron house, your feet carrying you unconsciously towards your final destination.

you skimmed your eyes over the backyard, the pool foggy and murky, leaves and branches floating on top of the water. you bit your lip to stifle a laugh at wheezie jumping up and down with her phone in the air, trying to get wifi.

you were worried about how hard the cleaners and gardens were going to have to work to get the yard back in shape, but before you could come to feel empathetic for them, a searing pain arose on the bridge of your nose.

your eyes filled with tears as you reached your manicured hand up to your nose, the red crimson liquid staining your fingers and dripping onto your new yellow sundress.

because you weren't watching where you were going, you had run smack dab into the side of the entrance to the gym, your nose hitting the hinge that was sticking out of the wall.

you could taste the metallic substance dripping down your lips, your ears ringing from the pain. yes, you were always just a bit of a crybaby, but you had a low pain tolerance and bumping your nose hurt like shit.

you could hear the sound of weight dropping aggressively as you let out a whimper, clutching your nose in your hand. it was only seconds before heavy hands made their way onto your hips, an all too familiar strong cologne engulfing your nose, making it sting even more.

but you knew who it was, so you didn't hesitate to turn your body around and lay your head on his chest, your hand still protectively covering your nose. you couldn't help but sob at the pain, soft shushes and a hand rubbing your back comforting you softly as you wept.

rafe felt the blood stain his shirt, but he made no effort to move, kissing the top of your head softly.

it wasn't unusual for your daydreaming to lead you to injure yourself in some way. whether it was tripping over or banging into something, rafe knew your clumsiness all too well. but he hadn't seen you cry like this in pain since the 5th grade when you fell off the monkey bars and knocked your head.

along with his sets that were yet to finish, topper and kelce were now long forgotten in his mind. all he thought about was you, and the fact that you were in pain. it made him go fucking crazy.

"baby" he sighed softly as he gently pried you off his chest, pulling back to try to get a good look at your face. your hand was covered in blood, along with your lips and chin, the crimson red still dripping from your nose.

"fuck" he cursed, watching your tears flow down your cheeks in a steady stream. rafe wasn't often calm and collected, but this was a whole different level. he was freaking out.

he quickly took your hand in his, dragging you softly up to the entrance of tannyhill. the only thing he could hear was your whimpers and sobs echoing in his head, all he could think about was you.

before you knew it you were being lifted up onto the cool surface of rafes bathroom counter, the cold marble making you shiver as your dress rode up to expose your thighs. rafe quickly grabbed out multiple tissues from the box, gathering them together in his hand.

"this is going to pinch baby, i'm sorry. hold my hand yeah?" he asked — well — demanded. you felt him bring the paper up to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose softly to stop the blood flow.

he made quick work of multi-tasking as he kept the tissue on your nose, quickly cleaning the blood of your lips and chin. he didn't look you in the eyes once as the whole ten minutes he held your nose, waiting patiently before finally pulling away.

you had never been more thankful as you felt no more blood trickle down your face — and so was rafe.

he sighed as he threw the tissue in the bin, grabbing your face in his hands and holding leaning his forehead on yours. you looked into his eyes before he closed them and took a deep breath in.

"don't ever fucking do that to me again baby."

[tojirights]

❛ you taste like heaven. ❜

Alastor with angel!reader omg. I imagine that reader was Alastor's wife back when they were alive, but didn't see eachother again after death because Alastor is in hell and reader is in heaven. I imagine that after Sir Pentious got redeemed, Sera sent reader (because she has experience with demons(? Ur choice) and Sera trusts her a lot) down to hell to investigate this 'hazbin hotel'.

a/n: AHHHH i almost didnt want to write smut into this because it was so precious 😭 ooc alastor again but its so CUTE. i added my "alastor speaks french" agenda to this as well lol.

buy me a coffee? 😇

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, fem! receiving oral

heaven was in shambles after the last extermination, no one knew what would happen next now that souls could be redeemed from hell. it was then that sera approached you in private, all but begging you to go be an "ambassador." you were hesistant at first, not only thinking that this was a lot of responsibility, but also that your... husband had to be down there. he wasn't a "good man" after all, but your heart still fluttered at the thought of seeing him once more. with a sigh, you accept sera's plea and prepare for your trip down to the hazbin hotel.

there to greet you, was charlie morningstar herself, bright eyed and bubbly just like you heard all about. she leads you into the foyer of the hotel before you stop dead in your tracks. charlie is still speaking a mile a minute in your ear, trying to welcome you as best she can, but you're not listening. your eyes meet alastor's, immediately recognizing him even in this new form of his. and when his smile almost fades, you know he recognizes you too.

there's another brief pause before you're running towards him, your wings unfurling on their own as you're quickly wrapped up in his embrace. the other inhabitants of the hotel watch, confused, seeing as alastor hasn't really let anyone but niffty get close enough to touch him, let alone embrace him. your wings fluff up and cover your faces as you lean up to kiss your estranged partner. "oohh, sweetheart.." he sighs against your lips. "its been..."

you smile between kisses, your heart racing in your chest. "too long." you finish his sentence, earning a chuckle from the demon. his lips kiss a trail to your ear, a low growl to his voice as he whispers to you. "you taste like heaven, darling." your cheeks go red, not quite prepared for such a comment, especially in front of company. "alastor!" you hiss, hitting his chest gently but he just pulls you closer in response.

finally, he addresses the group behind you who are all standing with their jaws hanging open. "now, if you're all done gawking, i believe my wife needs to be shown around..."

husk spits out his drink as alastor speaks, covering angel in alcohol. "your WHAT!?" you hide your face as calamity ensues, everyone trying to speak over eachother at the insane news. "your wife... is an angel?" charlie asks gently, trying to get to the bottom of this. "well, i couldn't have known for sure but she was always more a saint than i." alastor hums, running his hand down your back. you shudder when he touches your wings, to which he notes in his head for later.

"o-oh! well then! i guess you should show her around, yeah?" she smiles bashfully, still taken aback by everything happening since your arrival just a few minutes ago. you look up at alastor, your cheeks aching from smiling so wide. "i think i'd like that." you whisper to him, enjoying the way he pulls you closer to him. "hold on tight then, my love."

you're not sure what he means by that until you're slipping into the shadows with him. its an odd feeling, but you don't think much of it until you're reappearing in what you assume is his bedroom. alastor is careful with you, like he's afraid the wrong touch will burn you, but he craves the feeling of your bare skin against his hands more than he can admit. you smile, reaching your hands up to cup his face. "touch me, al. i'm not fragile..."

your words light a spark deep within him, forcing him to restrain himself from ripping your pretty clothes into tatters. he groans inwardly, large hands reaching around to pick you up before fumbling his way to the bed. "corrupting an angel wasn't on my bucket list until seeing you again, my dear." his tone, its not what you're used to hearing, but that gravelly undertone shoots straight through you. "oh please, you can't corrupt me more than you already have." alastor's lips find the sensitive skin of your neck and you feel him smirk.

"i hope that's not a challenge." he tests, tugging at the hem of your dress. you all but giggle, lifting up so alastor can free your body of clothes. "and what if is it?" you challenge, knowing full well that alastor wouldn't let your teasing continue without proper punishment. his eyes darken red, and there's a tinge of fear in your gut. because this may still be alastor, but its been quite a while, you don't know how he's changed.

but as he kisses down your stomach, you're reassured that the man you married is still there somewhere, underneath this 'radio demon' persona. "your lips tasted of heaven, mon amour, does this taste so sweet as well?" alastor's words alone are enough are enough to make you whimper, then the feeling of his hot breath against your clothed cunt makes your core pulse.

your hands naturally fall to the top of his head, feeling the softness of his ears and the rough points of his antlers. "c-can i..?" you start, timidly holding onto the horns. alastor's body shudders as he shoves his face into your thigh. "yes, ma chérie. please do." he breathes, tugging on the thin fabric of your panties until they rip in half.

alastor wants to be patient, wants to treat you like the angel you are, but he is a demon after all. and he hasn't gotten such a delicious meal in far too long. after he feels your grip tighten on his antlers, he lets loose his self control. his first taste of your sweet pussy sends him into a frenzy, eating you like a man starving. his tongue swipes up your slit before circling your clit in quick flicks. your legs are shaking already, breathy moans leaving your lips with reckless abandon.

there's a part of you that is concerned to be getting your cunt ate by a demon, but this demon was your husband, after all. sera made you come down here and you might as well enjoy yourself, right?

your hips arch up, craving more and more, and alastor is happy to oblige. "this is heaven, my dear. not some palace in the sky, but here, between your legs." your eyes well with tears, overwhelmed in more ways than one. every pass of his tongue has your release teetering on the edge while his sweet words make your heart flutter. its almost too much, and when alastor sucks on your clit, your walls burst.

"a-alastor i'm..." you mewl, every nerve on your body screaming as your orgasm rolls over you. you're almost sure you're hurting him by how hard you tug at his hair, but alastor doesn't stop. the intensity is something you've not experienced in many, many years, and the tears stream down your cheeks. alastor coaxes you through it, licking slow and soft circles around your sensitive bud until your shaking stops.

he's quick to climb up, wiping the tears from your puffy eyes. "such a good girl, mon amour. there's plenty more where that came from."

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[all444miles]

— JERSEY LUV

— pairing: e-42 miles x black!fem!reader — genre: suggestive, but fluff. — summary: attractive things Miles does that just make you fold instantly. — a/n: this was js in my drafts n i was like "i should post this" while yall waiting 4 my new fic !! the entire time i was writing this I was losing my absolute SHITTT. 😭 Like, i was dead by the first hc. this might as well be those "what's it like dating miles" type shi but i wanted to make it diff, yk? listen to some kind of fold-worthy song while u read this - anyways, im waffling. enjoy, mls !! part 2 part 3 !

MILES MORALES that does not take your attitude. He loves you, yes, but if you do too much or talk crazy, he's gonna put you in your place. It's nun violent, of course, but he may just grab your neck once or twice.

"Chiquita, watch yo tone wit me." "Drop that attitude f'me." "Miss me with that voice, ma."

MILES MORALES that manspreads. that's it. that's all.

MILES MORALES that's always gonna call you by some kind of nickname. He just loves it, and you do too. Princesa, ma, hermosa, the list goes on and on. One time he called you lil mami (if you're shorter) and you actually lost it.

MILES MORALES that always has his hands on you. Your waist, your thigh, your face, everywhere. He just needs to make sure your there.

MILES MORALES that lives for your kisses and always kisses you. Doesn't matter the place, the time, nothing. If he wants a kiss from you, or wants to give you some, it's gonna happen. Especially when you have lipstick/lipgloss on.

"Mi reina, lemme love on you."

MILES MORALES that drives with one hand because his other always on your thigh. It's like his lil resting spot.

MILES MORALES that'll always let you know he misses you, he'll spam you with "i miss you" texts or voice notes w him going on abt his day when you not around ‹3

MILES MORALES that has social media but only uses it to post you. You the love of his life, why wouldn't he let evb else know that?

MILES MORALES that loves to spoil you. You like that pandora bracelet? It's yours. You have a shein cart? Its on its way. He loves to spoil his girl, its his love language atp.

MILES MORALES that always keeps eye contact with you and make sure you keep contact with him whenever yall talking. dont look away if he say sum that makes you fold, he gon grab your chin and make you face him 🤭

"Nah nah baby, don't turn away. Keep ya eyes on me."

quick @ to my boo @laaailuh

© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

[arieslost]

talk | op81

summary: oscar loves to talk your ear off.

word count: 1,276

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

everyone who had told you that oscar piastri wasn’t much of a talker was a bold-faced liar.

that, or maybe they just never got to see that side of him.

before you started dating oscar, you totally believed it. the first few interactions the two of you had were awkward and brief, usually ending in you thinking that he actually hated you and only engaged in small talk to be nice.

the oscar you know now is nothing like the oscar you first met, and even though you’ve been with him for the better part of two years, his ability to talk for hours is still as shocking to you as it was in the beginning.

it started out innocently enough. the first time you hadn’t been able to attend a race, oscar called you the moment he was back in his hotel room. you’d only been dating for five months at that point, and you vividly remember your shock when you accepted the facetime call and he started talking at a mile a minute. you’d barely gotten out a “hello” before he started recapping his entire day in precise detail. he didn’t even stop to take a drink of water in his enthusiasm.

that turned into the two of you developing a routine. every time you couldn’t make it to a race, oscar would call you at the end of the day and tell you everything he’d been dying to tell you.

“you could text me some of this stuff, you know,” you told him once, and he had wrinkled his nose cutely.

“why would i text it to you when i can just tell you about it on the phone?” he’d responded, like your suggestion was completely outlandish.

it’s endearing, really, the way he’s always so excited every time you pick up the phone. like he is right now.

“hi, honey!” he says brightly the moment the call connects and you can see each other’s faces.

“hey, oz,” you smile, your mood immediately lifting at the sound of his voice. “how was your day?”

“oh, i have so much to tell you,” he leans forward, his hair obscuring the camera for a moment before he leans back with a piece of paper in his hand.

“what is that?” you ask, watching as he unfolds it.

“this, my love, is my list.” he says, turning it around so you can see the way the page is full of his writing, not only on the lines but in the margins, too. “if i can read my own handwriting.”

“busy day?” you pull the hood of your sweatshirt further over your head so it covers more of your screen.

“you have no idea. i don’t even know where to start.” he sighs, eyes scanning the paper before he looks back up at the camera. “but i want to hear about your day first.”

“ah, it was okay. boring. i got so used to traveling around with you that i don’t know what to do now that i’m home all by myself.” it’s a lie, of course.

you wouldn’t miss oscar’s birthday for the world, and that was why you’d been so believable when you told him that you were so sorry, but you couldn’t make it to japan for the next race. even thinking about not being with him for his birthday was enough to upset you, so he bought it easily. conspiring with mark and lando, you’d gotten your hands on a plane ticket and formed a plan to get to the hotel with oscar being none the wiser.

which is how you’re here, at the end of the hallway on his hotel floor, waiting for the perfect time to interject.

“oh, i have to tell you about how free practice went, the second session, not the first,” he’s saying, squinting a little at the paper. “i wrote it over something else and i can’t see what it says. whatever. anyway, it’s raining here, and, like, half the cars didn’t end up going out for the second session. i was just trying to do my best for the session but i ended up setting the fastest lap! i didn’t even know until i got out of the car. did you watch? i don’t know if you did, i forgot to ask you, but i think it was a 1:34 or something like that. i could’ve been faster, obviously, but it was raining. its still raining right now actually which kind of sucks. i wouldn’t mind if you were here, but it’s just miserable and cold.” he pauses to take a breath. “wait, where are you?”

well that you weren’t expecting. “at home… where else would i be?” you reply, hoping that your confusion looks genuine.

“your background looks… i dunno.” he presses his lips together. “doesn’t look the same.”

“well, i’m at home,” you repeat, trying to come up with something on the fly. “pretending that i’m talking to you face to face instead of through the phone, like always.”

“ah, yeah. i do that all the time,” he admits, giving up on his scrutinization of what little he can see behind your hood.

“i miss you,” he says then, and its absolute hell knowing you can’t knock on his door just yet.

“i miss you too, oz.” you whisper. “keep telling me about your day?”

“sure, honey.” he gives you a soft smile, once again consulting his piece of paper. “so after the second session, i went and got dinner— oh wait, i forgot to tell you what happened earlier! i left the hotel room—”

you were hoping to let him tire himself out a bit from talking so much before approaching the door, but with every little detail of his day he shares you wish more and more that he was saying it directly to you and not through the phone, so you give up on being patient and knock three times.

“hold on, baby. someone’s at the door.” he says on the other end of the call, getting up from where he’s sitting on the bed and leaving his phone behind, so you end the call to free both of your hands.

the look on his face when he opens the door is priceless. “you’re joking.”

“i figured you should tell me the rest in person,” you say. “besides, i’d be damned if i missed your birthday.”

“you’re joking,” he repeats, pulling you and your suitcase into the room and wrapping you into a tight hug. “you’re actually here.”

“of course i’m here.” you laugh, kissing his shoulder through the loose material of his worn out t-shirt. “i don’t want to be anywhere else but here.”

“i’m so happy,” is all your enthusiastic, talkative boyfriend says before kissing you, smiling against your lips the whole time.

“you hung up on me?” its the first thing he says once the two of you are cuddled up in bed, and your jaw drops.

“seriously? i’m right here, and you’re gonna come for me for hanging up on you?”

“i would never hang up on you, but whatever,” he rolls his eyes, but cuddles you closer all the same. “okay, you have to know what lando told me last night about this one thing he did over winter break. it doesn’t sound bad at first, but i promise you it gets so much worse.”

you sigh in content, happier than anything to be in oscar’s arms and listening to him talk your ear off for the foreseeable future. you would never lie about it— you don’t want to be anywhere else but here, with him.

note: happy oscar dayyy!! wishing my fellow aries the best birthday ever and i hope you all enjoyed this 🫶🏼 i low key hate it but hopefully that’s just me lolz

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

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