#bunny plotting revenge

[bunnies-and-sunshine]

Amos and Naomi's first tornado warning! 🌪️

Two humans and two bunnies in a 2.5 x 4.75 foot space (taken up mostly by the toilet) was a bit cramped for everyone involved. Basements aren't common in this area. Amos and Naomi couldn't be left to roam the bathroom since they're just old enough to get into trouble and too young to be spayed/neutered yet.

I'm pretty sure Naomi is plotting revenge for me having to scruff her and stuff her in the travel cage. We didn't have much warning, so speed was imperative. She can pee in my shoes later so long as she's safe now.

Amos got the same treatment, but he was way less salty about it.  I assume it was because he was in the penthouse suite, so he felt pampered. 

Thankfully we were unscathed, but we're still waiting to hear the reports on how strong the tornado was given that it collapsed a few buildings and trapped some people inside.

[sora-has-a-sideblog]

in the spirit of the holiday

[from Tiger & Bunny: The Live; Hiroaki Hirata and Masakazu Morita are reprising their roles from the main series]

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

odd tho, that right at the finish line to the revenge of the sith (a thousand years in the making) sheev would send maul to fight some jedi on naboo, right? when by all means he got the result he wanted from the jedi 'winning' that conflict. big risk of discovery innit?

unless that wasn't about the planet at all. unless sheev wanted maul to fight qui-gon, specifically. ya know, sith historically love pitting apprentices against each other...

...and qui-gon was all about the prophecy of the chosen one, right?

and like, there's only a few canon sith, versus a metric ton of jedi. fifty thousand or something?

cool.

... what did everyone think 'balance' meant?

yeah so, what IF qui-gon knew what kind of monster anakin was going to become.

what IF qui-gon was another sith apprentice.

what if that duel was 'who gets to train anakin' and either way the jedi lose?

lil ani, destined to bring balance to the force? well. he did. in a manner of speaking.

anyhoo. sith qui-gon au, amirite?

[vampire-buni]

they could never make me hate you happy bunny

[diivineray]

                      𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐇 ／ ⋆ ۪  ― ❛ Noooobody knows the trouble I've seen. . . nobody knows my sorrows  ❜

[enchantingepics]

Story Prompt 104

In a dimly lit room, a figure stood before another, bound to a chair, wounds crisscrossing his body. The atmosphere reeked of tension, as the standing figure circled the seated one like a predator closing in on its prey.

"You thought you could steal her from me, didn't you?" The standing figure's voice was low, filled with venom.

The bound figure snarled back, defiance in his eyes despite the pain. "She was never yours to begin with. You just couldn't stand losing, could you?"

A cruel smile twisted the lips of the standing figure. "Oh, but you see, it's not about her. It's about what you took from me."

"You're delusional," spat the bound man, struggling against his restraints.

The standing figure chuckled darkly, the sound sending chills down the other's spine. "Am I? Or are you just blind to your own sins?"

Their words clashed like swords in the air, each barb cutting deeper than the last. The standing figure toyed with a knife, tracing patterns on the bound man's skin, drawing blood with every stroke.

"You were supposed to be family," the bound man hissed through clenched teeth.

"Family?" The standing figure laughed, a cruel sound that echoed in the room. "You were never family to me. Just a rival, a thorn in my side."

The bound man's eyes flashed with fury. "And what about her? Did you ever truly care for her, or was she just another pawn in your sick game?"

The standing figure's smile turned icy. "She was everything to me. And you took her away."

Their exchange was like a dance of death, each step bringing them closer to the edge of madness. The standing figure leaned in close, the glint of madness in his eyes.

"I'll make you pay for what you've done. In blood."

With that, the room descended into darkness, the echoes of their twisted desires haunting the empty space.

[happy-trenchcoated-impala]

(This is an ORIGINAL CHARACTER, I just wanted to see how well this would go, I think it came out pretty well)

Jade sighed as she watched her brother and all his lame friends start towards her again for the sixteenth time this week, like for real do these guys have anything better to do? Hobbies, boyfriends, girlfriends, knitting, anything else but being a pain in the butt to her?

She shook her head as she was thankful that she managed to deliver that note to Naoto as well, she had been getting frustrated with her lack of progress not for lack of trying, but for the fact that every single time she tried to shoot her shot with Naoto one of the gang would suddenly appear out of nowhere and give her a look that she could feel down in her soul and she did not have a single clue as to what she did, she racked her brain running thru the past few weeks and even months but she still came up blank, she swore feeling trapped and panicky.

"I swear I haven't done anything to them." she thought to herself in desperation, then her mind flashed back to that lecture they had all given her, the look of absolute disappointment on each and every face that looked at her as they all lectured her about her ‘bullying’ of Naoto Tachibana, Hina's little brother and Hina being Takemitchi's girlfriend, of course the rest of them didn't like that Jade was supposedly bullying him.

All Jade had done to the cute nerd was call him names, granted they were names of fictional detectives, and occasionally point out when he missed a detail in something, she wasn't quite sure how that counted as bullying him.

Jade squirmed in her soul, it's not like she wanted to bully him, but he was so cute whenever he got heated that she couldn't help the snark that always came out when she spoke with him even if she also couldn't help the butterflies that erupted in her tummy or the blush that threatened to appear on her face each time she was near him or when he looked at her or talked to her, she was just not gonna admit that to ToMan, she sighed, she wouldn't hear the end of it if she admitted that she only picked on him because she had a crush.

She cringed and speaking of her brother's stupid lame friends. There were five of them just hanging out, and she just happened to run into them, she cursed her luck sometimes, but if these five were here, where were the others?

Jade soon got her answer in the form of another six body's coming from behind her, she cringed hoping she wouldn't be noticed, “Man, where were you guys?” She heard one of Takemitchi's friends ask one of the guys who passed Jade, a small blonde with piercing gray eyes who looked more childlike then Jade did, “The library” the blonde, Mikey, Jade's brain supplied, replied easily “had to grab something."

Another one of the guys, long black hair with an almost arrogance to him, Baji, grinned his canines gleaming in his smile, “Was almost too easy, all Mitchi there had to do was distract him, and we snagged this” Baji said in triumph, pulling a single lavender colored envelope out of his pocket.

Jade felt her stomach drop, she knew that envelope, spent hours agonizing on how to accurately express her emotions for the adorably nerdy little dork who had captured her heart, now she had to somehow either grab that envelope, and maybe burn it, but she would have to rewrite the whole damn thing.

She made a face when Takemitchi glanced up and saw her there, “There she is,” Takemitchi said in a cold tone, a dark look in his eyes, “maybe we should all have another talk with her, maybe read what's in this as well, before deciding what we do.” making Jade gulp, quickening her step as she heard the rest of them start to move.

Jade broke out into a sprint running faster then she had ever run before, was she gonna make it?, probably not, but she was going to try. She sprinted her feet going as fast as she could dare to go, she could hear the rest of them behind her trying to catch her, she prayed that she could get away from them, she couldn't handle all of them reading the contents of that letter out loud, especially with her present.

She grimaced again, a look of unease crossing her face as she crossed the street and heard the rest of the feet that were behind her stop, she glanced behind herself quickly and saw that they were all stopped at a light but surely she could make it right?

Right?

Wrong.

Jade kept running only to suddenly slam into something solid, and heard a voice that made her blood run cold, “Gotcha Tiny!” Boomed from above her head, she squirmed, trying to twist away to run again, only to feel both arms constrict around her as she felt her feet leave the ground, at only five foot two inches, she was small and it's exactly how she found the nickname of Tiny amongst the gang.

Jade let out a little shriek of surprise, “Put me down!, Put me down! Put me down!” Jade whined, sounding more like a spoiled brat then a semi-mature girl of thirteen. Draken, who was holding her, scoffed “Nah, I think I need to bring you back to the others for a little chat about bullying again” before going to hold her over his shoulder like a disobedient sack of flour.

“Draken, if I tell you the truth of what is in that envelope, will you put me down?” Jade asked, trying for a negotiation, anything before the rest of them caught up to her.

Draken's eyebrows rose quickly, “Start talking.” was all the taller man said, Jade sighed in irritation. “Fine” Jade felt herself starting to blush, “it was a um a con-confession note.” Draken looked at her and smirked at her stutter. “Hell, here all of us are ready to lecture you and instead it looks like we need to have a different talk.” Jade tried to run again “No no no no no!” Jade squealed in mortification.

Jade felt her face burn anew as the taller man threw her over his shoulder while saying “Wonder what Mitchi will have to say about this?

Hmmm?

Wittle bitty baby Jade with her first crush, all grown up and in love, It's too cute” the taller man cooed, smirking, sounding almost like his girlfriend, Emma, his voice usually deep and gravelly, pitched higher as he teased the young teenager.

“This is why I didn't want to say anything,” Jade whined, “this is so embarrassing.”

“Yes, yes, sometimes life isn't fair.” Draken drawled rolling his eyes,”but none of us will be expecting to hear this, I mean, we probably should have seen this coming, you don't treat anyone else like that, not even Hanma” he pointed out logically even with her on his shoulder.

“That's different.” Jade protested, “I hate Hanma.”

Draken chuckled “Yeah,I hate him too, but you’d think that trying to get someone's attention in a romantic sense you’d go about it in a better way, not by being mean to them and calling them names.” the older male told her.

Jade pouted, her cheeks still a bright pink. “Not my fault that feelings are hard, I just kinda didn't want to put a label on it and also have you guys find out about it, no offense but I dont think I'm ready for that level of teasing yet.” the young girl confessed, a red blush now staining her cheeks at the thought.

Draken chuckled, “You’d think that hanging around us, you’d be a little less easy to embarrass.”

“I'm not embarrassed, I just didn’t want you all to butt into my private life.” Jade scoffed with false bravado

“Uh huh, and that’s why you're as red as you are right now, then right? So you won’t mind telling the rest of the gang what you told me, I mean, if anything even just to avoid the bullying lecture.” Draken told her sternly.

Jade shifted from her spot on Draken’s shoulder, mouth opening and closing but unfortunately for her, he had a point. “Okay, you’ve made your point, you can put me down now.”

Draken snickered, “Yeah right, like that’s gonna happen Tiny, I put you down and you're gonna try and run again, besides there's Takimitchi doesn’t your big brother look so worried?”

Draken asked sarcastically,mainly because Takimitchi looked angry as hell and if they were in a private area, Jade was sure she would’ve ended up over Mitchi’s knee, the thought didn’t help her blush.

Takimitchi sneered at her, “So what's going on? Cause Jade your choices are you will read this letter out loud or one of us will read it for you and we will ask questions. Personal questions. Deeply personal questions.”

Mikey looked at her and sniggered, “She looks like she'd rather die than do either of those options.” Indeed, the young girl looked ghost white, except for two bright red spots on her cheeks, her eyes wide, “You you want me to do what?” she croaked.

Takimitchi’s features softened a little bit when he saw how nervous his baby sister looked but he didn't back down, he wouldn’t have been a member of ToMan had he backed down.“Your choices are, either you will read this letter out loud or one of us will read it for you. You choose.“

Jade gulped “ An-and if I refuse to choose either option?” she stuttered a bit, “Then one of us will read it for you anyway.” Mikey replied easily as the rest of the gang watched this byplay play out.

Baji deciding to open the envelope, making Jade jump at the sound of rustling paper as the older male then shook out the letter with a flourish

“Are we sure Baji can even read?” Jade asked incredulously, trying to keep a nervous laugh out of her voice.

“If you're asking that question, it's a good way to get him to read it out loud on purpose just to embarrass you even further,” Kazutora whispered to Jade seriously. “remember Baji doesn’t have shame.”

Jade gulped, feeling as if she just swallowed down a bunch of snakes, her stomach felt squirmy at the thought, as the consequences of her actions were catching up with her.

Baji looked at her “Do you want to read this or can I?” He asked, grinning, Jade glared at him. “You act like I would want to read it.” Her nose crinkled in disgust, even as her stomach rolled with shame.

“You wrote it” was all the long haired arsonist said in a cheerful tone, grinning at her outraged face, as he held the paper and started to read, his voice up in a higher range, obviously making fun of her.

“My dearest Naoto, wow you sound so nice here Tiny” Baji said in a teasing coo as he continued to read out loud, “this is starting to sound like one of those letters I get from the girls at school, you know the ones, the “I really love you” letters.”

Jade groaned and just blurted out, “That's because that's what it is!” she shouted in mortification, her face feeling like it was on fire.

There was a stunned silence.

Then…

The whole gang cooed at her.

She did not just say that out loud.

“So cute”

She did not just say that out loud.

“Awww, Wittle Jade has her first crush!”

This couldn't be happening.

“This is too cute”

Jade felt her mouth going dryer as heat crept up her neck, going into her ears, even the tip of her nose felt warm.

“Awww she's blushing”

She groaned, the butterflies in her stomach working in overtime,this couldn't be happening.

The young woman went and leaned against a wall in defeat, knowing that if she tried to run again, she'd just get caught again and teased even worse.

“You know we only tease you because we care right?” Takimitchi said, coming up and leaning next to her on her left side.

“Doesn't make it any less embarrassing.” Jade moaned, her face was still feeling warm.

“But still have you tried talking to him?�� Smiley asked

“No, cause each time I would go up to him to talk to him, you guys would show up and glare at me.”

“Oh” was all Smiley could say to that, “we thought you were bullying him not awkwardly trying to flirt.” Angry tacked on.

Jade blushed even worse

“What made you think that I would've wanted you to know that I was flirting with him?!” she shouted feeling embarrassed and trapped, “maybe I didn't want anyone to know that I am in.. in that... that with him” she couldn't even bring herself to say the word, it was way too embarrassing, it felt like admitting a weakness she didn't want others to know about.

“In what?” Mikey drawled, a teasing note to his voice, “In love with him? Come on, you can say it.

Your.

In.

Love.” Mikey said, enunciating each word with a poke to her blushing cheeks.

Jade flushed even hotter, the blush almost making a light of its own.

Baji snickered, “She can't even say it without blushing, that is just too precious.” he cooed, reaching out to pinch her still red cheek.

“What? It is,” Takemitchi said, snickering at her, “It is just too cute, you can't even say the words, can you?” He teased her.

“Shut up” Jade grumbled, embarrassment still apparent in her body language, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

Even Mitsuya chuckled at her, "So wanna let us all know when you're done planning our demise and go back to confessing your love?”

Jade glared at him, but the effect was slightly ruined by her blushing cheeks and the pout on her lips.

“I think she's still planning our demise, and unless we say something for her, I don't think she's gonna be confessing her love anytime soon.” Draken said, grinning when he caught sight of her face, she looked like she was facing down a firing squad. “Relax Tiny, I'm not gonna go and tell him, but I make no promises for the rest of these assholes.”

Jade squirmed at the thought of the gang telling Naoto that She was in love with him, and vowed to not let that happen.

[a-hermit-pining]

A Reflection of Him

AN: Plot bunny bunny comes to life! Warning- I bawled my eyes writing this.

Pairing: Sylus x fem reader

Genre: fluff and so much comfort

Summary: "Is that not the best thing to wish for? That the people you care for were loved, even before you came into their life?"

(I do not own these characters)

"Happy Father's Day, Dada!" Raul shrieks, launching himself into Sylus' lap.

Your husband barely has time to react before he’s tackled—first by the dogs, then by Mephisto, and finally by the twins, who have long since lost any fear of rebuke. Not after witnessing their fearsome boss being carried out of the delivery room at the mere sight of birth.

A flurry of limbs, paws, and claws moves before your eyes, a chaotic mess of yips, shrieks, and laughter. And your heart blooms at the sight.

Some pluck love like petals. Some treasure it like pearls. And some...some deserve to be smothered by it.

Then, your eldest walks in.

She stands beside you, clutching your hand, trepidation flickering in her eyes. For a moment, she is once again the little girl you let go of at the kindergarten gates.

With a gentle pat on her head, you smile, then lovingly shove her into the crowd of limbs.

He had hit his head when he first found himself on your couch. He didn’t remember much...just funny colors, static noises... Probably a concussion.

How embarrassing.

Sylus lay there, eyes rolling back as he groaned at the thrumming pain in his skull.

"Say aaa," a small voice rang in his ear before something plastic was shoved into his mouth.

Squinting his eyes open, he found a pair of familiar eyes staring back at him.

Yours, only on a smaller, plumper face.

"You have a fever," the little voice chirped, inspecting the plastic thermometer now thoroughly drenched in his saliva. "200 degrees. Don't worry, I’ll make you better." Small hands patted his head with absolute confidence.

"Lilia!" You scooped your daughter up with a sigh. "Didn't I put you to bed already?"

"But the doctor says it’s serious," Sylus croaked dramatically. "Who will treat me now?"

"Rein in your horses, mister. Lay down and do not strain yourself," you scolded, shooting him a glare as you set down the glass of water you'd gone to fetch.

"Come, Lilia. Time for bed. Playtime is over." You carried your daughter toward her room, but not before she twisted around to make the most ridiculous faces at Sylus over your shoulder.

That was how he met her.

Your daughter, who, at age four, was the only doctor bold enough to diagnose him with a 200-degree fever.

"He was a… we were in college. It was all so new… we were from the same town," you say, staring at the hazy photos of your college dorm.

"It was easier to tackle Linkon with him. And then he was gone... he couldn't bear it. People weren’t kind to him. He…" You sigh, clutching the photo tighter. "He is no more. You don’t have to seek anyone for vengeance or revenge. But if you ever hurt Lilia, I will kill you."

And Sylus knows, that is the truth.

You would kill him.

But for the first time, he does not wish for it. Not if it means leaving you alone. Not if it means becoming nothing more than a painful photograph in your hands.

"She is all I have, and I am all she has," you murmur, looking up at him. The house stands still, the only sound the slow, rhythmic tick of the clock.

Sylus flips through the album, stopping at a photo where you cradle an infant in your arms.

"I’m glad," he says finally, voice quiet. "Whoever he was, he left you with Lilia. I’m glad you were loved. And that Lilia grew up being loved by you."

He exhales, eyes lingering on the photo.

"Is that not the best thing to wish for? That the people you care for were loved, even before you came into their life?" He smiles taking your hand in his, next to a mountain of toys that Lilia had insisted on showing to him before leaving for school.

Luke and Kieran sit on tiny chairs, sipping water from plastic cups. Seated beside them is the esteemed council of plushies.

"Mr. Luke, do you like the tea?" Lilia beams, dressed in a princess gown and tiara.

Luke nods, his mask off, before turning to his twin, only to find Kieran’s face covered in stickers.

"Yes, Princess Lilia," Kieran says solemnly. "The tea is excellent. You should serve this to Boss once he returns."

It is simply delightful to witness the head of Onichynus joining the council of plushies for an exquisite tea party.

Makes for an excellent photo, too, one they manage to sneak in with Mephisto’s help.

Lilia grins, "Yes! We must! And I will ask, mommy and Mephisto to join. We can have a ball."

"Boss!" Lilia tugs at Sylus' sleeve as he carefully straightens her bow.

"Hm?" he hums, though his heart is beating wildly. Just a few rooms away, you were waiting for him, ready to walk down the aisle.

"Do you want me to sneak photos of Mommy?" Lilia asks, her eyes glimmering with mischief. "Am I not your best woman? I should do it, right?"

Standing tall on the stool, his best man is doing an excellent job of keeping his nerves in check.

Sylus exhales a laugh, shaking his head. "How much did your mother bribe you to sneak a photo of me to her?"

Distantly, he makes a note to have a word with the twins, after the wedding. They were definitely behind this. He and you had worked way too hard to get Lilia to stop calling him Boss, only for it to come right back at the worst possible time.

The room stills when your daughter hands him the papers.

You quietly pull Raul into your lap as Sylus takes them, his hands trembling.

"Happy Father's Day," your daughter says, standing before him as he reads frantically.

"People say we're both equally stubborn," she continues, her voice steady but thick with emotion. She clutches his hand. "That we're both sore losers. That we both love anything shiny..."

Sylus looks up at her, his tears unrelenting, just like hers.

"But they don’t know," she says, voice breaking, "that all of this comes from you. From the years, the months, the weeks, the days, the hours, the minutes, down to the very seconds, you have spent looking after me."

She swallows.

"It’s because... how could I not want to be like you?"

Sylus' breath catches.

"From four to sixteen, you've been here for so long... and I don’t want to call you Sylus. I want to call you Dad. I want you to be my dad"

Beside them, you sniff quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of Raul’s head as he watches, wide-eyed and troubled by the sight of both his sister and his Dada in tears.

"Will you be my dad?" she asks, sinking to her knees.

And Sylus, your husband, your love—falls.

He pulls her into his arms, holding her as if letting go would break the world.

"A thousand times over," he whispers. "In every lifetime, in every form. I hope to have you as my daughter."

Tags

@perla-drg, @codedove, @crazy-ink-artist, @desiree-archive @softiepeachess @otome-addictionproblem

[captain-heartstrings]

Angel's Playtime AU Master Post

A Master Post made by popular demand that I will TRY to keep updated with every post about Angel, my transmasc religious Poppy Playtime OC:

This one, the one on tiktok and everywhere- This Angel.

-=The Comics=-

Protip: If an event in the canon game is not shown in the comics, it's safe to assume it's because the event is similar or identical to the canon game's version, and therefore did not need to be drawn

Angels Don't Let Each Other Fall - Saving Huggy

Code or Bunny - Saving Bunzo

A Mother's Memory - Saving Mommy Long Legs

The New Plan - Filler Funny Comic

The Crash - Meeting Catnap

The Crash Aftermath And Impossible Promises - Meeting Ollie

Home Sweet Nightmare - Red Gas Nightmare Sequence

Saving Does Not Always Mean Living - "Saving" Miss Delight

Passing Out and Cuddle pile - Saving The Small Critters

The Nose Button - Filler Funny Comic

I Would Never Leave You Behind - Saving Dogday

The First Attempt (Pure Imagination) - Failing to Save Catnap

Try Try Try Again - Saving Catnap Part 1

I Want To Save You - Saving Catnap Part 2

Angel's Return - Hiatus Over! The Tape - Part 1

-= Extra Pictures =-

Protip: These are pictures I drew outside the comics. Sometimes they're canon to the plot and I'm just drawing them with more detail- and sometimes I am just drawing something for fun. Not everything is canon to the story if it's one of these links.

Original Concept Art | Art Trade With a friend | Bottom Surgery Joke | Naptime With Bunzo and the Wuggys | Piggyback Ride | Spider Mom | Get Scruffed Idiot | Angel's Full Toy Design | Hold Da Babies | Cuddlepile Upgraded | Poppy's Puppy Eyes | Angel's Revenge | Kickin' Fights The Sun | Eve and The Serpent | Angel's Ref | Angel and Yarnaby | Pianosaurus | Partner In Crime | Pissy

[belokhvostikova]

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

⤷ Comprised collection of work categorized by standalones or multi-part series. Majority of my work will contain explicit sexual content, so if stated: 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭. Any and all feedback, constructive criticism, and comments are welcome.

Do 𝐧𝐨𝐭 repost, 𝐝𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 — Updated as of August 31st, 2024

─── ౨ৎ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

The Yearbook: Club Pictures | Completed

The Hawkins High 1986 Yearbook is set to encapsulate the '85-'86 school year, capturing all students and memorabilia from the momentous year—with an exception, though... Hellfire. And as a valued member of the Yearbook Committee, Eddie Munson had placed a target on your back to protect himself.

Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold | Ongoing | 18+

Winnie Ambrose had had enough of Eddie Munson. A cheat, dirty, no good, lying scumbag whose only worth was found in his eight inch cock. But enough was enough, and Eddie Munson was bound to pay his dues. Devising a plan of revenge, Winnie entrust you, her best friend, to hurt the man who hurt others. It was simple: make him fall in love, and crush his heart. Only, you hadn’t expected to fall deeper than intended… and neither did he.

─── ౨ৎ 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

Sensual Brutality | 18+

Porn with no plot.

Dustin Fucking Henderson | 18+

In the simplest terms, Dustin Henderson has essentially become Eddie Munson's biggest cock block.

Sweet, Little Bunny | 18+

Perhaps the karma gods of the world were just as perverted as Hawkins’ residential Freak, Eddie Munson, himself, as the perfect opportunity to lay his hands on you arose when you go searching for helpless students to tutor.

You’re Gonna Break His Little Heart | 18+

What was supposed to be a summer vacation to your boyfriend's hometown, turned into God's greatest test of morality against you. In other words, you basically fuck your boyfriend's best friend, Eddie Munson.

The One Where Everybody Finds Out | 18+

Your secret fling with Eddie Munson hadn't gone entirely under wraps, particularly to the know-it-all, Dustin Henderson. With the help of Robin and Steve, the three conspire to reveal the truth, resulting in two of the most awkward people going on a date together...

The “Plug” | 18+

A night after Homecoming has you reveling in the loneliness of your mind, but a drug dealer "meandering" his way by is there to solve your issues, especially after finding a particular toy of yours.

Interrogations with the Unconscious

After five months of no reconciliation with the man whose lifestyle became too much for you to manage, you're met with your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar, after an accident leaves you in the hospital, and you face the realization that Eddie Munson is still your emergency contact.

The Boy is Mine (Sienna’s Version)

There comes a period where most relationships fall stale, yet Eddie never thought it'd happen to him and you, in fact, maybe even worse. With an intimate date planned in the comfort of your home, Eddie hopes to coax whatever thoughts are troubling your mind.

In the Room Where You Sleep | 18+

Halloween had stamped itself as Hawkins' favorite time of the year, where teenager party and murderers prow. And you come face-to-face with that, when a particular masked man takes a special interest in you.

─── ౨ৎ 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬

Eddie’s Boyish Antics

Eddie’s Pregnancy Shenanigans

Eddie’s Very Metal Lesson

Eddie’s Pregnancy Rules

Eddie’s Smutty Allergies | 18+

Eddie’s Situationship 18+

Eddie’s Really Bad Joke | 18+

Eddie’s Reassurance | 18+

[exonerin]

I'm suffering from a bunny-wan plot bunny. And I have to share it:

When Anakin's in the Temple during sporadic shore leaves, he works on te mouse droids. They all have their little names and more upgrades than any mouse droid should have. They should be subject to arms regulations at this stage.

Anakin's newest invention is an improved path tracking for the mouse droids. As he tests this, one of the droids (and we'll give him a ridiculous name like Lord Bucktooth the Fifteenth) runs into problems. Anakin uses the tracker on the mouse droids (another very necessary upgrade performed by yours truly) to locate the mouse droids.

He expects to find the droid snagged in a discarded cloak or stuck under a chair. But no, the mouse droid (Lord Bucktooth the Fifteenth) has crashed into a bunny. Now, I imagine the scene like this:

the mouse droid lies on its back, wheels still spinning madly (courtesy of the speed update). Meanwhile, the rabbit lies on its flank, the fur on its flank mussed from the collision.

It's very clear that the mouse droid should have given way to the rabbit and just ran the poor animal over. Now, Anakin is not usually an animal person. Animals can sense his Force signature, always roiling like thunderstorms and doing the equivalent of dropping the barometric pressure. But this rabbit is undeterred by Anakin crouching by the crime scene. Because this is undeniably Anakin's fault.

After putting the mouse droid back on its wheels, Anakin turns to the rabbit. And to his surprise, the rabbit lets him smooth the mussed fur on his flank. Thus, Anakin discovers the rabbits auburn fur is silky soft. Intrigued and awed, he pets the rabbit, letting a floppy, velvety ear run through his fingers, and testing that his little, flaring nose is as soft as it looks (it's somehow softer).

The bunny wrestles back to its feet, clearly fed up with Anakin petting him. Anakin decides to help, putting the bunny back on its feet. Since Anakin possesses no impulse control and this bunny just tugs on his heartstrings, he can't resist the urge to tousle the fur on the rabbit's head.

Now, this rabbit was already fed up with Anakin before Anakin stroked all his fur in the wrong direction. And so, the bunny flees. Anakin tries to follow him, but it's rather difficult to follow such a small and slippery animal, so he loses track of the rabbit.

Anakin's first order of business is adding some traffic regulations in the mouse droids' data banks.

Cue Obi-Wan returning to this quarters, his hair sticking up in all imaginable angles and his robes a mess. Anakin has never seen Obi-Wan so disorganized, and they've fought plenty battles together.

And he blames Anakin when Anakin asks aghast what happened to him. This is, of course extremely unfair. Anakin didn't do anything!

Either way, Anakin fixes the mouse droids, but he's still a little worried for this bunny. Like any reasonable person would do, he equips the mouse droids with cameras and tasks them to find the bunny to ensure bunny is fine (adoption is not out of the question).

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan's being hunted by mouse droids (and an Anakin Skywalker hot on their whirring wheels), each time he transforms. We'll blame the need to transform on Obi-Wan's Stewjon heritage (or he was bitten by a feral bunny Qui-Gon picked up during one of their missions. I actually like this option more).

If he doesn't transform at set times, the transformation can kick in at inopportune times, so Obi-Wan's very careful with his schedule. Until Anakin messes it up, of course. By performing a witch hunt on him! Absolutely ridiculous, but he can't confront Anakin directly.

I imagine that he does like Anakin's cuddles, but he'll also want some petty revenge on his former Padawan.

Either way, this plot bunny won't leave me alone, but I really need to work on chapter 14 for DAUNTLESS and I have too many WIPs already.

[spr1ngpvrinbunny]

🐇Headcanon: You steal William’s clothes… but he’s already three steps ahead

Credit art: flizzy_4shey in Instagram (my close mutual:3)

At first, it’s innocent. Or… maybe not. Maybe it’s your revenge.

Because his clothes were just there, hanging with such casual arrogance in the corner of his room, slung across a chair like an invitation.

His white button-up, sleeves wrinkled and collar still faintly scented of cologne and ink.

One of his suspenders draped over it. One of his godforsaken undershirts still faintly warm from where he'd thrown it off an hour ago, half-distracted by a new project. Of course you tried one on. What harm could it do?

The problem is… everything looks huge on you. Not “cute oversized.” Not “just one size up.” No. It’s the kind of oversized that dwarfs you, sleeves swallowing your hands, hem falling nearly to your knees, the collar hanging slightly off your shoulder like you were a kid playing dress-up in your dad’s closet. And somehow, that made it worse. Or… better. Depending on how much danger you’re in.

Because when William rounds the corner and catches you like that—sitting on the couch, curled in the folds of his old workshirt, flipping through some manual like you weren’t trying to steal his entire identity—

He freezes. Then tilts his head.

And smirks.

“...Planning to replace me, bunny?”

You try to play it cool. “Maybe. You did say I had the brains for it.”

He walks over slowly. Leisurely. Like a predator with all the time in the world. And when he stops in front of you, looking down at the way his shirt engulfs you, he reaches out and gives the fabric a gentle tug.

“You’re drowning in it,” he muses. “It's adorable. You’re like a very smug, very tiny thief.”

But then. Plot twist.

You notice the hoodie you swore was missing earlier—your hoodie—is now loosely hanging from the hook by his desk. And you stare. And he notices you staring.

“Oh, that?” he says with a straight face, as if he hadn’t stolen it and been wearing it while soldering parts in the lab for the past two days. “Felt like something soft. Thought I’d try your wardrobe on for a change.”

Your jaw drops. “You—you stole my hoodie?!”

He raises a brow. “Darling, you started it.”

You both descend into playful chaos after that.

There's a brief argument involving laundry baskets, empty hangers, and a mysteriously missing pair of your pajama pants—which he flat-out refuses to return because "they stretch in just the right places, don't be cruel."

Eventually, you both give up. William offers a trade: one oversized button-up of his in exchange for one of your comfiest sweatshirts, worn thin with love.

Secretly, he loves seeing his things on you. It does something very possessive to him—quietly, subtly, but deeply. And the same goes for him wearing your stuff. There's a strange kind of intimacy in knowing he could afford a hundred custom-tailored suits… but he chooses your hoodie with the paint stain on the sleeve. Every time.

—

The lab hummed faintly in the background, the kind of noise that settled in the corners like a gentle hum beneath the skin — a quiet, mechanical lullaby for those used to its presence.

The overhead lights had been dimmed, leaving only a soft glow from a desk lamp that pooled across William's blueprints and a half-empty mug of tea gone cold beside a pair of goggles and scattered screws.

You were curled up on the little sofa tucked in the corner of his workspace, one knee drawn up under yourself, your body swallowed whole by one of William’s old button-up shirts. The sleeves fell past your hands in a way that made you feel like a child wrapped in too much linen, but you didn’t care.

It smelled like him.

Faint cologne and oil and something burnt but oddly comforting.

He hadn't said anything when he first saw you wear it—just raised an eyebrow like he always did when amused and dangerously observant.

But now? He was wearing your hoodie.

The oversized thing hung off him in the most undignified way possible, sleeves too short on his long arms, the hem riding a little too high when he shifted in his chair. You'd frozen the moment you spotted it, eyes narrowing with theatrical betrayal.

"That's mine," you declared, voice hushed but accusing.

William didn't even look up from the circuit board he was soldering. "Mhm."

"You stole it."

"Borrowed it."

"Without asking."

A pause. The corner of his mouth tugged upward. "Exactly."

You huffed and sank deeper into the couch, tugging his shirt closer around yourself in protest, wrapping it over your legs like a blanket. “You’re such a hypocrite. I wear one of your shirts and you act like I’ve committed treason.”

He finally turned in his chair to face you, silver eyes catching the soft lamplight. He looked devastatingly smug, even with your hoodie hanging off him like a second skin. “I didn’t say I was mad. I quite like seeing my clothes on you. It’s…” —his gaze trailed down, appreciating you with something almost tender— “endearing.”

You tried to look unbothered, but your ears felt warm.

He stood, setting down the tool with a quiet clink, and crossed the room with the kind of calm that still carried weight, like a tiger stretching before a pounce.

He sat beside you, making the couch dip just enough to knock your shoulder gently into his. The scent of burnt solder clung to him, but so did you — or at least, your scent in the hoodie he wore like armor.

He looked down at you, then tugged lightly at his shirt draped on your arm. “I see this one's your favorite.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, a little shy now. “It's soft.”

He let out a soft breath, the ghost of a laugh. “You could’ve just asked, you know.”

“You never ask.”

“I’m not as subtle,” he said with a slow grin. “You left your hoodie lying on the chair. That's practically inviting theft.”

“Thievery,” you corrected, lips twitching.

William hummed, low and pleased, then leaned his head back against the couch, letting his arm fall over the back of it — not touching you, but near.

Always near. “If we're being honest,” he said after a moment, voice quieter now, “I like this… domestic kind of nonsense. Clothes-stealing. Petty wars. I’ve had colder company.”

Your throat tightened just a little.

Outside, the rain tapped quietly against the window. Somewhere behind you, the hum of an old air vent kicked in.

Without asking, you leaned into him, resting your head against the soft bulk of his shoulder. He shifted slightly, just enough to accommodate you, then tilted his head until his temple brushed yours. And for a moment, there was nothing more to steal.

You had it all right there: the warmth of borrowed fabric, the scent of each other tangled together, the comfortable silence between two people who’d long since stopped keeping score.

[evanchantingpeters]

T(h)rust in me, I’m not over you... (Fanfic - Alex from Adult World)

Pairings ─ Alex (from Adult World) x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff

Summary ─ Y/N and Alex (aka Evan Peters in Adult World) are exes who haven’t quite let go. A friend’s birthday party turns into a comedy of errors when a black-out drunk Y/N accidentally enters Alex’s postcode as her own for a cab ride home. As Alex finds her at his doorstep and takes her in his place, old feelings resurface and steamy times go down in his bathroom.

Warnings ─ Swearing, smut, unprotected sex p in v, drinking, oral (m receiving), rough sex, nipple teasing, hangover sex, doggy, pretty smutty guys you’re being warned :)

Word count ─ 3.7K

18+ > If you’re a minor, DO NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

The birthday cake of your friend, Beatrice, stands proudly in the centre of her living room, decked out in colourful frosting and flickering candles.

You and the rest of the guests belt out the overdone ‘Happy Birthday’ song in what you think is perfect harmony. But here comes Jerry, Beatrice’s younger brother, who starts hollering the lyrics off-key, stealing the show. 

Snorting, the birthday girl nudges her brother away, leaning over the cake to blow out the candles. Just as she’s mouthing her wish, Jerry, wearing a wicked grin, swoops in and dips his sister’s face right into the cake. 

The room erupts in uproarious laughter as Beatrice’s expression goes from shocked to amused. She taps her cake-covered eyes to remove some chocolate. Then, she turns to Jerry with a look that’s half playful, half ‘I’m plotting revenge.’ 

“You’re in for it now, Jerry!” she barks. And just like that, an all-out frosting war breaks out, turning the room into a sugar-fuelled battlefield. Cake crumbs are flying in every direction, but you manage to dodge most of it with only a few cake-bulleted stains along the hem of your black dress.

You retreat to a corner of the room, sipping your Prosecco like you’re watching sitcom chaos unfold from afar. Suddenly, you notice a stranger in a fancy tux sauntering over, a sly grin playing on his plump lips. 

“Well, looks like you’ve stayed mostly unscathed… or shall I say un-caked?” he chirps, his voice deep and throaty as he nods toward the cake war raging on. 

You just shrug, tossing him a faint, uninterested smile, “Good reflexes, I guess,” you quip, giving him a quick once-over before turning back to the cake madness. You feel his dark green eyes scanning you as if you’re going through airport security. 

He chuckles, and leans in. “If you need someone to scrub the marks off your dress, I’m your guy,” he whoops, playfully thumping his chest. He extends his hand with an inviting smile. “Tony.” 

“Y/N,” you reply bluntly, your energy matching that of a deflated balloon. 

Unfazed by your meh vibes, Tony decides to turn up the heat on the handshake, taking you aback as he begins to stroke your wrist. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous,” he purrs, his eyes never leaving yours.

In a bold move, he lightly kisses the back of your hand, his stubble scratching your skin. 

You instinctively pull away, trying to force a polite smile, but a nervous twitch is all you manage. Your intrusive thoughts kick in, lecturing you (as usual), ‘Give the guy a chance, Y/N. Seriously, after Alex, all you think about is eye-gouging dudes with a spoon? Get a grip and move on!’

“Enjoying the party, Y/N?” he asks, snapping you out of your mental mess.  

“It’s not too bad. I’m here for Beatrice,” you retort, fetching a glass of wine from the buffet. Your eyes drift to the birthday girl, now caked from head to toe and giggling hysterically. You can’t help but crack a smile.

“Sorry, gotta go. Trice’s calling me,” you blurt out and lunge toward your friend, catching a muffled, “No, she didn’t” from behind as you’re practically escaping.

As the night barrels on, your party spirit is like the Energizer Bunny on steroids. You’re all in, downing shots and cocktails like they’re on a liquid clearance sale.

Yet, the question looms in the air: Are you drinking for the sheer fun of it or just drowning sorrows in that cocktail shaker? Alex heartache mode on. 

Before you know it, you’re totally sloshed, messily sprawled on a plush couch, using Tanya’s (another friend of yours) knees as your personal pillow. “Iiiiii reeeeally like your boooody, bodyyy, yeah. I reaaaaally wanna get naughtyyyyy I think you’re such a hottieeeee,” you croak out each word of the pop track with a slur, laughing uncontrollably. Your eyes are shut, lost in your boozy world.  

As you ramble on, Tony, who’s been lurking around, seizes the moment and leaps out from behind the couch. He casually nudges Tanya’s arm, yelling, “You heard that, Tansy?” with theatrical flair. “She thinks I’m a hottie!” His grin spreads wider than a rubber band as he arrogantly points at himself, acting like he’s the main character of your drunken karaoke.

Tanya clicks her tongue in mild annoyance and cuts in with a hiss, “Tony! Behave, man!” She softly kisses the top of your head in a futile attempt to soothe your booze-induced storm. 

“I offered to clean up her dress…” Tony goes on, hovering over the couch. “But, not gonna lie, I’d rather have it crunched up on my bedroom floor as she moans my name,” he murmurs, emphatically banging his fist on the couch before doubling up with laughter. 

“Oh, hush it, Tony,” Tanya roars and waves him away, turning back to you and your delirium, which has hit the roof. “I need to get you home, girl, and none of us is fit to drive…”

Tony, not one to give up easily, chimes in once more. “I volunteer! I’d give her a lift all day, all night.”

“No, we’re all catching a cab,” she declares with a tone that brooks no argument. She lightly pokes your shoulder. “Y/N, my love?” 

Your tipsy babbling starts to fade into a murmur that seems to be lulling you to sleep. “Y/N,” Tanya repeats. “What’s your postcode, sweetie?” 

Your alcohol-soaked brain struggles to register this simple question. “P-postcode? P-o-s-t-d, no. P-p,” you stutter.

“Yes, darling. Confirm your postcode for me, would you? I don’t have it saved,” Tanya says calmly, holding her phone in front of your face. 

With a grunt, you manage to sit up, but the world continues to dance spinning salsa around you. With an unsteady hand, you reach for the device, and your fingers fumble as you try to type out the letters and digits. 

Deep in your drunken haze, you unconsciously punch in a code that matches anything else but your address.

“To the hottieeeeee,” you shout, throwing your fist in the air before dropping yourself back onto your friend’s knees. 

“Ma,am, we’re here,” the taxi driver announces to Tanya that’s sat next to him, his hoarse voice slicing through the quiet of the car. 

Tanya swivels around to face the backseats, where you’re laid down, totally passed out. “Y/N,” she calls softly, giving your leg a gentle rub, but you don’t stir. 

She hops off the car and speed-walks to your side. With great care, she helps you out by wrapping her hands around you. Your arm is looped around her shoulder for stability. “Biyatchhhh, I saiddd whooo I saeee… who da biyaatch? Am da biyatchh,” you hoot, swaying and leaning heavily on your friend as you pinch her cheek with a goofy smile. 

“Y/N, just a sec,” Tanya huffs out as she shoves herself back in to retrieve your purse and coat from the car floor. 

You both stumble your way through the labyrinthine apartment complex. “You got your house key?” she asks, catching her breath. 

It takes a hot minute for the information to hit as you stare at your friend like a deer in headlights. With an unexpected burst of energy, you break free from Tanya’s hold, almost tripping a few steps away. “My Tanoushka, I'm sho happy you haar!” You cry out and lurch back toward her, showering her with enthusiastic smooches on her cheeks.

Then, in a theatrical whirl, you pop open the purse and jangle your keys in her face. “Jiggly, jiggly. Okiee, goooo, go, go!” you cheer in a wobbly dance, urging Tanya to get back into the car.

With an anxious look on her face, Tanya stands by the open car door. “Alright, phone me once you’re indoors,” she insists, her worried eyes laser-focused on you.

You shoo her away absentmindedly as you stagger toward the complex’s main door. You wrestle with the key, wriggling and twisting it into the lock, but miserably fail to get in the building. “Bad key,” you playfully scold, wagging a finger at the stubborn piece of metal before giving it a light slap. 

Soon after, your fingers impulsively begin to clumsily hit the buttons on the intercom, creating a cacophony of buzzing sounds that echo through the entryway. “O-o-o-pen uuup,” your slurred shouting rings through the intercom. “Shtupidd thaang,” you whine, practically bashing the device.

Out of the chorus of tenant voices that crackle through the speaker almost simultaneously, Alex’s familiar voice stands out.

“Y/N? Y/N is that you?” Hearing the shaky and uncertain voice, Alex doesn’t waste a second. He dashes down the stairwell and swings the entrance door wide open, facing a dishevelled Mia, rocking around about to collapse. 

“Y/N,” he gasps and sprints to you. “What happened? Why are you here?” His brows furrow in confusion as he observes your smudged makeup and dress that’s askew.

You look up at him with a lopsided smile, your eyes all bloodshot and half-lidded. “Alex, my hottieee. I mishhhsed you so muschh!” you exclaim, your sentences meandering as you lounge at him for a sloppy hug.

“Shit, you’re hammered,” he mutters, worry spurs him into action. With superhero speed, he scoops you up, your butt facing upwards, hands hanging loosely off his back. 

Your giggles echo as Alex carries you onto his shoulder with ease, making his way to the lift that leads to his place. In a soft, reassuring whisper, he says, “Don’t worry, baby,” and plants a kiss on your thigh that’s now resting on his chest. “I’ll take care of you,” he adds, giving you a playful spank on the ass. 

Once inside, Alex makes a pitstop in the kitchen for a water bottle while you dangle off his shoulder like a ragdoll, humming nonsense. He heads to the bedroom and gently lays you on the bed, making sure your landing is as comfy as a cloud. 

Kneeling beside you, he begins to delicately take off your high heels, rubbing your legs along the way. “Who needs a napkin when your dress can double as a tissue, right?” he chuckles softly, tracing the dry cake marks on your outfit, unaware of the sugary fight earlier. “You’ve officially introduced ‘cake couture’ to the fashion world,” he teases, trying to bundle you in a blanket like a burrito.

You slowly lift your head from the pillow, your neck muscles tightening with the effort as you stare at him with bleary yet intent eyes. “I want shyour cakey,” you mewl, wriggling under the blanket on a mission to liberate your hands.

You tug on his hoodie, pulling him closer until he loses his balance and topples onto you. Your bodies press together, and your voice comes out in a pleading whine. “Alex?” 

“Yes?” he rasps out, his dark brown eyes flicking down to your lips and then up into your eyes. 

“Kiss me,” you mumble and perk up, slowly grazing your lips against his, eyes shut. 

The strong scent of alcohol wafts from you, but, in that moment, Alex seems beyond minding. His heart races too erratically to care, and his breaths are too jagged and wild to bother. The room seems to shrink for both of you, and he swallows hard.

“No, Y/N,” he snaps, his voice firm and resolute as he jumps up. “I’d never let this happen... not right now... not with you being like this.” He snatches the water bottle from the bedside table, unscrewing it with a sense of urgency.

Slightly dazed, you touch your lips. “Tickles, tickles, ticklish,” you squeak, breaking into soft giggles. In a sudden and wobbly move, you shift position, popping up on your knees on the bed. “Huggies,” you whoop facing him, arms wide open for an embrace.

But, just as quickly, your mood takes a detour, and now you’re wincing, yanking at the fabric of your outfit in frustration, “This dresshh is prison, tightiee,” you grunt, hiking your dress up only to reveal your red panties.

His eyes can’t help but stare down there as he rubs the back of his neck almost compulsively, his breath hitching in his throat. At the sight of you half-naked, the dilemma of whether to give in or resist intensifies, swirling in his mind on end.

“Hold up, I don’t want you catching a cold or something. I’ve got a top you can slip into,” he says, puffing out his words while pacing toward his wardrobe to avoid looking at her.

“Heeey,” you yell with an unexpectedly stern tone that catches him off guard. But, just as swiftly, your face softens into a sweet, almost kiddish smile that instantly cools things off.

You wave Alex over, beckoning him to approach. “Come, come, comeyyy,” you coo. 

You perch next to him again, still rocking that mischievous smile. “It’s a secret, tiny winnie one,” you whisper-shout, pinching your index finger and thumb near your face, closing one eye for added drama. “Just between you and me,” you poke as you emphasise ‘me.’ 

Alex nods as his grin stretches from ear to ear. “Okay…” he chuckles, officially joining your light-hearted moment.

“Shhhhh,” you dramatically hush, squishing your index finger against your lips like you’re sharing classified intel. “Secret-t-t-t.”

Alex snorts. His rolls his lips into his mouth as he lowers his head to hold back a laugh. “My bad, my bad. Go on,” he whispers with exaggerated enthusiasm. He’s clearly having a blast with your goofy antics.

“Don’t tell Alex… Neva eva!” 

“I won’t, I won’t,” he assures you, theatrically raising his finger for a pinky promise. 

You take an unusually long moment to process his gesture and what it represents. A sober person would never… Eventually, you sloth-slowly glance back at him, nonchalantly deciding to give up on the symbolism behind the lifted pinky finger. “He’s the kindestsht… and p-p-prettiest boy I’ve eeeeever met,” you exclaim. Your fingers—guided by intoxicated conviction—clumsily roam over his face, stretching his nostril and trailing down to his bottom lip. 

Your drunken self radiates an innocent sincerity that makes Alex’s heart throb like a hammer. Flattered and charmed by your confession, he gazes at you bashfully.

His warm smile broadens as he keeps on staring and admiring you.

“He’s shhhuper,” you squeal, forming a heart shape with your fingers, peeking at him through it. “Do youse… hic… I should gimme… no… not me… him, give HIM head to say thank yew for treatin' spoooooon good?”

Alex can’t help but crack up, though his cheeks turn rosy—a testament to his shy nature. He cups his chin and narrows his eyes mischievously, like he’s in deep thought. “Hmm, if we’re talking about Alex, your ex...I think you should give him head, BUT,” he exclaims, throwing a finger into the air. 

You gasp, playfully covering your mouth like you’ve heard the most shocking news. Your eyes bulge with feigned surprise. “Beyond all,” he argues, “I think you should totally get back together. He thinks you broke up for something very silly, and he’s dying to be with you.”

You abruptly jerk away from him, gagging as if you’re about to throw up. You feel the blood draining from your face as a wave of distress washes over you.

Alex’s eyes widen with concern as he instinctively rises from the bed, “Off we go to the bathroom,” he insists, rushing to follow you.  

Your nausea takes a sudden turn, and you can’t hold back any longer. Barely making it to the toilet in time, you let it all out. Your body heaves with each retch, and you feel miserable.

Alex, the unsung hero, drops to his knees and chucks the water bottle on the floor. He gently pulls your hair back, creating a makeshift puke-proof barrier. All the while, he rubs your back to make the whole ordeal less horrible.

Then, he’s quick on his feet, grabbing some toilet paper for the post-barf clean-up. As you dab your lips, he hands you the bottle to rinse. “I’m disgustiiing, don’t look,” you grumble, shooing him away as you spit water in the toilet before flushing.

“You’re still a wonder to my eyes,” he whispers, running a hand through your loose hair. “And the timing—you puke just as I suggest we get back together, Y/N” he mocks, adding a sprinkle of humour to the less-than-glamorous moment.

You groan and let your head flop onto the toilet seat. “Ahhh, my moussth feels weird… bruushh,” you mumble, rubbing your lips. 

Alex lifts you up, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Not brushing yet, baby. We’re swishing with some hydrogen peroxide and water to protect the enamel,” he instructs you, preparing the said concoction in a small measuring cup next to you. “Here you go, wash off.”

“Shhh, you’re a niiieeerd,” you whine after spitting the liquid, feeling it sting your tongue. Giggling, you yank at Alex’s hoodie and playfully sway him back and forth, your minty breath fanning his face.

Then, you suddenly stop and fix him right in the eye. “Aleeex?” you whimper, lips pouting.

“Yes, Y/N,” he asks calmly, sweeping a few strands of hair off your face as a half smirk curls up his lips. He enjoys the banter that weaves through your drunken fog.

“Fuck me,” you plead, fiddling with the buckle of his belt. 

Alex’s pulse quickened for a second, held in an irregular rhythm. All the while, your fingertips caress his lower stomach, trying to slip through his trousers and onto his boxers. 

You let go when he clears his throat loudly, a deliberate attempt to regain composure. Breathing heavily, he manages a tight-lipped as he strokes your head, tenderly placing it on his shoulder.

“Ohhh, I knoooow,” your exclaim and sit up, your index finger playfully pressing against your mouth. “I willshh brush me an’ you fuck me.” 

Forty minutes later, you’re done with her hardcore toothbrushing session, complete with a few rounds of gargling mouthwash. Alex hands you a towel with a warm smile. You’re still wobbly but muster a grateful grin.

“Thaaank, yew rock,” you slur, clumsily patting your face dry. 

Alex chuckles, “Better?”

You hum, nodding, but your bleary eyes suddenly light up mischievously. Out of impulse, you slide into the tub, turning the water knob. You start splashing around, water welling up everywhere as you laugh uncontrollably. Alex, caught in the aquatic crossfire, shields himself with his hands.

“What’s the goal? Turning this into a water park?” he jokes, still trying to dodge the watery onslaught. But you’re having none of it. You grip his arm and drag him into the splash party.

Soon, you’re both a wet, tangled mess, laughing like loons, lost in the bliss of the moment. As water skims through the contours of your bodies, there’s a switch in the atmosphere. Amidst the fun chaos, your eyes meet inches away from each other, and the laughter mellows into a shared silence.

Before you realise it, your lips crash in a spontaneous kiss. You spread your legs, letting him wade through and tower over you. Soft moans escape him, and the vibrations against your mouth send delightful shivers down your backbone. You know that’s not just a collision of flesh; it transcends into a harmonious blend of passion and connection.

“I want you, Alex,” you sigh with newfound clarity, miraculously not stumbling over your words in an intoxicating joy for the first time tonight. You push the back of his head to deepen the kiss, your tongues now twisting and twirling in a sensual waltz.

He hungrily gropes handfuls of your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses across the crook of your neck.

“Y/N.. no... stop it,” he protests when your hand ventures down his trousers, rubbing along his growing bulge. Your quivering breaths mingle as he breaks the kiss. Skillfully, he turns off the water as he steps out of the tub. “It’s the alcohol talking now, not you.” 

You frown, clutching on the edges of the tub for balance. “The alcohol has shut up; I speak now,” you groan as you stand on your feet. Your drenched dress clings to your body, outlining your figure. Feeling the weight of the soaked fabric, you decide to free yourself from it. 

You strip down to your panties, and your soft, pink nipples rise like rosebuds in bloom, betraying a quiet anticipation. Alex sucks in a sharp breath as he watches your every move all mesmerised, eyes widening, lips parted.

“Ever seen someone redefine the art of walking a tightrope?” you chirp, water dripping down your half-naked body. Sinking to your knees, you get on all fours and slowly begin to crawl to him.

You sway your hips in a sensuous, almost hypnotic rhythm, eyes fixed on Alex. All the while, you trace a perfectly straight line to him, proving your recovered sobriety. 

Arriving at his pelvic level, you gracefully sit back on your heels with a coy smile, maintaining eye contact. “See?” you whisper, tilting your head as your eyes travel down at his erection. You don’t dare to touch; you just marvel at his full length (realistically speaking).

Staring down at you with a knowing, crooked smirk, he runs his fingers through your damp hair, tenderly petting your head. 

“Someone’s suffering here. Let’s free this big boy, shall we?” you purr, brushing your fingers along his hard rock crotch, feeling it twitch upon touch. 

He quickly nods in despair as if he’s unable to utter a single syllable. You slowly roll down his trousers and boxers. He gasps as you finally take hold of his large shaft.

You push his tip in your mouth, flattening your tongue, and swipe down the underside ridge of his stiff dick, humming in delight. He groans louder than you expected as you slowly work his cock in and out, grazing your fingers over the ridges of his abs under his t-shirt.

You pull him back out of your mouth just to slide all the way back down. He’s practically growling at this point, clasping onto the corners of the sink—his vein-y arms make your sex twice as moist.

You regain your slow, teasing pace just to gauge his reaction. Letting out a whine like he can’t take it anymore, he grips your hair tighter, pushing you all the way down his dick. His head is now building on pressure as it strikes the back of your throat, bringing tears to your eyes. His hair grip loosens as his breaths start escaping him in choked, punchy gasps. 

You’re sucking him whole, from his taint down to his balls, dripping your saliva all over him the harder you draw him into your mouth. Your swollen pussy is tingling for him as you feel him hardening in your mouth, forcing loud moans out of you.

Knowing that your next move will finish him, you slow down again and grab him by the waist, gazing up at him. That’s when you begin to take him in faster and rougher, feeling his hips thrust harder each time. 

And… proven! With the change in speed, he lets out a series of choppy moans only to shoot his hot cum in your mouth right after. He stares down at you breathless, mouth agape, as you gulp down his sweet taste with rapid, eager swallows, savouring his taste with a giggle. 

“My girl,” he rasps out as he picks you up from the floor effortlessly yet almost in a trance, his dick still throbbing in your hands. He peels his t-shirt off, turning you around so you both face the large bathroom mirror.

Positioned behind you, he holds you close and smacks your ass hard, making you squeal with surprise. The squeal soon turns into a moan as the pain fades into pleasure. 

You smile slyly as you observe his muscular hands travelling from your hips all the way up to your waistline and tits. You gasp softly when you feel his erection on your back as his mouth nibbles the flushed skin of your neck, leaving soft love bites in his wake.

“I want you to cum inside me, Alex” you blurt out and take hold of his shaft from behind, slowly sliding the head though your tight moist slit in short thrusts. 

“Oh, yeah,” he grunts, biting his bottom lip as he feels your wet lips wrap around him. He instantly fills his hands with your hard nipples, squeezing and rubbing them as he looks at your reflection. “Anything for you, Y/N,” he mutters against your ear in a low, husky voice before knocking himself deep inside you, balls deep, making you scream. His hands roughly grip your thighs to keep you steady and close to him.

Small sobs leave you as you instinctively grab the ends of the sink, bending over to cope with taking him deeper. “Just there,” you yelp, panting, as he starts pounding harder, your hair twisted around his hand. With each thrust, his sack slaps against your clit, making you lose your shit.

Every time your pussy gets to the base of his cock, you pump into him with an intense tempo and move your hips around, making his cock swirl inside your body.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you cry out with shallow, jagged puffs, rising and resting your head on his shoulder.

He pinches your nipples between his knuckles with one hand while with the other, he starts massaging your clit with circular motions. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper in pure ecstasy as a hot flush courses through you, your cunt aching and begging to release.

“You take in me so well, baby. Give it to me,” he groans, his voice a throaty sensual rasp that makes you shudder.

“Yeees,” you scream, writhing and grinding against him until you feel warm liquid dripping down your legs. 

He keeps riding your orgasm out with you, fucking the liquids in back until he hits his own high. And then it happens—his cum gushing inside you, stuffing you up.

Out of breath, Alex pulls himself out of you, watching his cum leak out. He lazily grins at you, his curls sticking to his head, and you tuck them all back with trembling hands, giggling. 

“This pussy and her owner over here will be the death of me,” he chuckles, gasping for air as he pulls you in for a sloppy, heated kiss.

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@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[lovings4turn]

Max V. setting up a little desk for you to work/do a hobby next to his racing simulator that he streams from. Both of you love the peacefulness of just existing next to each other. He got you one of those fancy gamer chairs in your favorite color and maybe with cat/bunny ears on top. You both jokingly call you his pit crew since you pass him things during streams (water/tissues/kisses). He gets so excited and has you lean over to watch replays when he wins (with his real life world champion trophy in the background lol).

STOP RIGHT NOW NONNIE LOVELY THIS IS TOO SWEET I CAN'T COPE ??? max is definitely the type of guy who doesn't care if you guys are doing two completely different things , as long as you're doing them in each other's company , so this is so something he would do omg !! you definitely scolded him a lil when he first bought you the set up because it must have cost a fortune , but he's quick to remind you that he gets paid a ton and so why wouldn't he want to spoil you ???

also definitely claims you're better than his actual pit crew (then makes you swear not to repeat that lest they plot his downfall in revenge) and gets just as excited over his virtual wins as he does his real ones too 😭😭😭

[atbondolas]

i watched dead boy detectives this week and now i'm kinda obsessed with making it about thiam. so i present you the thiam dead boy detectives au plot bunnies in my head 🐰

there are different ways i imagined it. the first:

theo dies and is sent to hell. now, contrary to what happened to edwin, he very much deserved it. his hell in this au is similar to his canonical hell, so tara keeps haunting him and clawing his heart out of his chest and then it all starts again – for eternity. but he manages to escape! and he decides to spend his afterlife doing some good deeds so that he can maybe convince death not to send him there again if she ever catches him.

then he meets liam and keeps him company while he slowly dies after being beaten by his teammates. when liam wakes as a ghost, he wants to get revenge, but theo is afraid that's gonna get him sent to hell, and so feels compelled to guide him in a different direction. liam lets it go but decides to follow theo and solve ghost mysteries with him forever :) at first theo doesn't want him around (because vulnerability is a bitch) but liam is as stubborn as he's beautiful, so there's no escape <3

at some point theo will have to tell liam the whole truth about his past and how cruel he was, of course. liam is taken aback, and they have a fight and theo pushes him away in the worst way possible. but then liam is in danger and theo sacrifices himself for him and is dragged to hell, and liam still decides to risk everything to get him back!

alternative that mirrors the teen wolf canon:

liam is a ghost that works together with scott, stiles and the others in the dead boy detectives agency (it was only scott and stiles at first, then other people joined, both dead and alive). they meet theo on a case, but he manipulates liam to obtain something (he could be a witch in this, or an evil ghost, or another type of creature).

at some point, he gets killed (or just caught by death) and sent to hell. years later, when the detectives have to go to hell to retrieve something or someone, liam meets theo down there. theo decides to help him because he feels guilty about everything he's done in the past, and in the end liam can't leave him behind, so he drags him all the way back to earth.

theo has a lot of magical knowledge and decides to use it to help the others solve all their cases, even though they don't trust him. liam doesn't either, not entirely, but he's the only one who saw theo in the depths of hell and is sure that the boy would do anything to keep himself out of there.

theo of course develops a strong sense of loyalty and devotion towards liam, just like in canon <3 and in the end, maybe there's a moment where liam could finally move forward to heaven, but decides to stay behind with theo <3

[vm-haunts]

Me: haha I'll just make up a timeline for this crazy crossover idea.

Me, a week later: what the fuck what the fuck how did I end up with so much plot how is it still expanding oh my god stooooop.

Aaaanyways. I don't know if I'll ever got it properly written, but this monster of a plot bunny now covers several major events and I'm losing my mind...

But anyways, cliff notes version on the plot and how far it stretches:

..

College trio was involved in the dionesium (aka Lazarus water) research, and somehow they're actually the more ethical bunch. Which is saying a lot considering.

DP events happened but they encountered and got help from several DC magic users during it. Budding occultist Sam for the win. (no agit yet and no phantom planet either)

The GIW got somewhat reformed, thanks to the help of Team Phantom's JLD friends. However at some point they got new management. Now instead of destroying ghost, the new comers are interested in the correlation of ecto-contamination, liminality... And secretly, in the increased success rate of induced metagene activation in liminals. Yikes, they somehow got worse.

Again, the Fenton parents are somehow the ethical ones here, despite everything. They refused to work with the new branch of GIW, stuff escalated (don't they always), and now they're dead. And in ghost jail. At least Vlad is there with them for the heartwarming reunion.

So Team Phantom ended up faking their death and goes on the run while raiding GIW bases, and along the way they found a weird guy (Jason). Weird guy's mom showed up and. Well guess they're involved with assassin cult's power struggle now, at least they get to help a guy out.

More shenanigans later they ended up with some monks in the Himalayas, and- wait Danny what do you mean you know them? Oh yeah Plasmius's little stint with the Infi-map... Gotta love time travel.

Anyway, after Danny got scammed for long overdue property damage fees and Jason got a pair of cool swords, they met Talia again and she brings news! Totally no ulterior motives or anything :) (Sam called her out to her face and she just smiled)

Jason, considerably more chill in this au, is still unhappy about... Well. Everything in Gotham.

Cue the Red Hood stint but with much more control and less blood shed. Which ironically made RH more intimidating because he moves like a ghost(duh). Especially when Jason's main act of revenge is 'pranks', which reads as mild psychology warfare actually. But hey the bats did that to themselves, he did nothing wrong (besides being a drug lord).

Red Hood peaceful mode does however attracted some unwanted bird themed attention, the Owl's not the Robin's. And well, undead Talons sneaking around undead experts, what could go wrong?

Everything apparently. Because on top of the Rh stint, Jason is somehow also infiltrating the Court of Owls now. As his real identity Jason Todd-Wayne no less. But the real suprise is Danny running into his parent's old researches, and. Well, the poor talons need help, might as well join in with the infiltration.

Some more shenanigans later it ends in Jason and co. quietly turning the talons against their old masters, and oh boy did they overachieved the goal of getting a foot into Gotham's crime world. Must be Danny's Fenton luck.

Ol' Batsy is very very not happy about that development by the way. But he can die mad about it as far as Jason is concerned.

...

The end. Of part one.

Stay tuned for part two, where we cross AGIT with crisis.

And massive thanks to @taddy-cat, a large part of this is inspired by the lovely discussion with you!