#getting some heathers vibes from this :^)

[td-rarepairs]

good evening td rarepairs do you like toxic yuri. i have a.. proposal.

katie x heather. yes this is toxic yuri even though katie doesn't have any content in the actual show anything i say is pulled out of my ass. so katie & sadie r clumped 2gether as a stereotype rite? but when u look at sadie alone she's described as the sweet girl's friend. this also implies that sadie's only friend might b katie, while katie is more out there than sadie is, talks 2 more people, and is more social. sadie is katie's only friend and katie has more friends than her.... (toxic yuri AND doomed yuri in one confession?) while katie and sadie r close, i think katie is probably a worse person, w/ one of the episodes having them being extremely petty, katie stays petty, but sadie starts saying things katie has actually done wrong, and in the end katie admits to calling sadie fat behind her back a minimum of once which in her defense she does apologize for

IN COMES HEATHER. heather, while sadie is away from school, adopts katie into her clique, and convinces her into talking shit about sadie (which she's already done(she can do it again)). sadie probably sick is out of school for a while, and katie begins getting used to being in heather's clique. when sadie comes back, katie isn't necessarily a different person, but she isn't as close to her as she was originally. katie loves being social. she loves the popularity she gets from being in heather's clique, she loves others having to talk with her, but most of all, she loves not being in power-- but being close to power. when katie tries to talk to sadie, she can easily be dropped from the group. heather threatens it a bit, and while most characters see heather as a horrible person, being in her friend group can warp her image of her, seeing her as someone who invited her to her friend group and seems mean on the outside, rather than someone who just keeps her on the side because she looks good next to her. in this way, katie trusts heather, and heather does not enjoy katie. katie loves her, and heather sees her almost as an adornment, or decoration. TOXIC YURI. it's like a love triangle except instead of heather liking sadie the arrow loops back around to heather loving herself ↓----- ↑ sadie -> katie -> heather -> | THEY ARE THE MOST TRAGICEST OF YURI'S AND I PULLED ALL THIS INFORMATION OUT OF MY ASS

and then (insert continuation here where it either get's worse (mroe in heathers lure) or better! (back 2 sadie) which is another story... -noey anon i think? maybe gwitty anon

.

[averlym]

pleaaase may i have 28 and 29 aramour angst ✨ i crave it

28: “Move out of my way before I make you.” // 29: “You deserve better.” (prompt list here)

click for better quality!

[butyoudidthis4what]

Something Else (Perfumer Part 2)

Jack Abbot x Bratty f!Reader

6.8k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CWs: NSFW, MDNI 18+, established relationship, dom!jack vibes, oral f receiving, mention of alcohol, biting, hickeys, manhandling, edging, stubble burn reference, spanking, unprotected PIV sex (birth control not discussed, but implied with the established relationship), age gap (reader 30ish, Jack mid/late 40s) but not mentioned, teasing, reader is a brat, like a really really big brat, no use of y/n or related, zero proofreading of any kind.

Summary: Continuation of Perfumer. Jack finally gets off shift and home to you. Bratty reader gets tamed.

AN: This feels like such an abrupt change of pace from No Man's Land which is where I have been living. It was just in my head and I needed to get it out. It's pretty much straight PWP which has historically been rare for me. I am quite nervous about posting this one because my smut writing feels so so so rusty and potentially not very great. So, I hope it's okay!

This is the look I picture him giving reader at the beginning!

Jack hears the quiet and slightly shuddery breath you take in at his words and can’t help but smirk. 

He likes this little game you guys play, likes when you’re a brat and he has to tame you and earn your submission. Likes when you start it subtly out in public.

Collins walks up to the opposite side of the desk around the same time you and Jack arrive. You share a brief moment of eye contact and then you scratch at your ear. You stop with Jack at the desk and stand close to him, close enough for your sides to touch. 

“Hey,” Collins calls your name to get your attention. You’ve become very close friends very fast. “I’m working with your man tonight, but I’m off tomorrow with some of the other girls and we were thinking of trying that new brunch place two blocks up once I’m off.” Jack’s head pops up and looks between you and Collins before settling back on you. “We figure somewhere between nine and eleven a.m. But McKay said she was happy to provide pregame mimosas at her place while you wait for me. She said she was fine with seven, good to stay on schedule.” 

 “That sounds so fun!” You nod at her, start walking over towards her, acutely aware of the way Jack tracks you as you do. “I’ve really been wanting to try that place! Probably makes the most sense for me to go over to McKay’s at seven if she’s going to be awake, just in case you actually get off on time for once.” 

Collins goes to speak again but Jack speaks first. “Don’t you already have plans?” 

You look back over at him confused. “No? Not unless I’m forgetting something.”

Subconsciously Jack moves his head towards you. “I think you are,” he nods. “Remember, we made plans.”

“Did we? When?” You go to say more but you’re interrupted by Collins laughter. “Heather!”

“I’m so sorry, the look on his face, I couldn’t help it!” She keeps laughing and it makes you laugh. 

“What?” Jack asks, clearly unamused. 

“We’re just screwing with you Jackie!” You giggle as you walk over to him. “We had a prearranged plan and signal to do this when I finally felt the time was right.” 

Jack blinks at you. “Did you now?” 

“Don’t pout.” You stick your lip out dramatically. “I have not forgotten our plans,” you assure him. You drop your voice for only the two of you to hear and run your hands over his chest, smoothing out his scrub top. “And I can assure you that I would never forget the kind of plans we have, nor would I ever take a rain check on them for some other offer.” 

“You’re a brat,” he replies lowly, an edge to his voice that makes another chill run up your spine. 

“You like it,” you whisper back to him before leaning up on your toes to give him a quick kiss. “Thank you, Heather!” You call out to her as she walks away and she just waves, still laughing to herself. “Have a great shift Dr. Abbot. Try not to have too much fun without me. Love you.” 

“Yeah, I love you too.” His eyes still track you as you walk backwards a little and wave at him before turning to walk out. “Hey,” he calls to you. You look back with your eyebrows raised in expectation. “Promises.”

You bite your lip and nod before turning again to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You let yourself get some sleep while Jack works but make sure to set an alarm for 6:45 a.m. so that you can be up when he’s off. Or at least when he’s supposed to be off. Unsurprisingly, there’s no text from him at 7:00, but at 7:05 you get one. 

J – Probably going to be a few hours late.

You – No worries, me and my ankles will be here waiting patiently for your arrival home.

The next text comes at 10:07 a.m.

J – You up?

You – Of course. Just freshened up the ankles for you, loverboy.

You can practically see his eyes rolling from here, but you know he likes it. 

J – You will not like what will happen if you are not on the bed naked and waiting when I get home. 

You – That another promise, Jackie?

At that one you can just picture the way he clenched his jaw as he got in his car. You’re not surprised when you don’t get an answer. 

You do as he asks though. Kind of. 

You shut the bedroom door and strip, and then you put on what you think are one of the sexiest pairs of panties you own. 

You walk over to your shared bed and lay down, propping yourself up with a pillow just enough that you can make eye contact with anyone who walks through the door. 

You let your hand drift lower and lower until your fingers brush over your clit on top of the fabric. He hadn’t given you permission, hadn’t told you to even start getting yourself ready for him. You keep touching yourself, let your fingers rub circles over your clit, use the fabric rubbing against you as a new sensation, all the while thinking of what he’s going to do to you when he gets home. 

Your panties are noticeably wet by the time you hear the front door open, fingers sticky with your arousal despite having stayed on top of the fabric the whole time. 

Jack can feel himself starting to fill out again as he reads how you freshened up your ankles for him. You’ve pushed him today. But he needs it. He thrives on it, almost always, on taming you. On pushing you to the edge of your limits. On earning your submission.  

The drive is mercifully traffic free. He steps into your place, locks the door behind him and just drops his backpack on the floor. Doesn’t put it aside in its usual spot. Doesn’t hang his coat up on one of the hooks. Doesn’t call out for you. 

His coat lands wherever it finally falls off him as he stalks through the house towards your room. His shirt meets the same fate, landing not far from the bedroom door. He’s already fully hard by the time his hand hits the doorknob and pushes open your bedroom door. 

In retrospect he’s not sure why it wasn’t, but the sight of you on the bed, looking right at him, almost totally naked and rubbing your clit over your panties was not what he expected to see when he opened the door. He didn’t expect to hear your soft panting and the softest and most breathy moan of his name. Jack. He tries not to let you see how it gets to him, how you get to him but he knows you’ll see the clench of his jaw and flare of his nostrils. You’re a sight. The most beautiful and erotic one he’s ever seen. 

You bite your lip at him, fight to keep the smirk off your face, but don’t stop. After locking eyes with him for a moment you let your eyes move from his and trail all over his chest and abdomen and arms. And the now very prominent bulge in his scrub pants. He’s too handsome. He burns you sometimes you swear, just by standing there shirtless and silent with that stoic face of his and that jaw and those eyes that ever so slightly tell you just how affected he is. 

Wordlessly Jack steps further into the room and shuts the door before looking back at you. Silence like this always means something with him. Means he’s sexually frustrated and annoyed with you. Means he’s ready to tame. The way he cocks his head just slightly, though, is a silent challenge.  

“It’s funny, sweetheart. I don’t remember my text saying anything about you being allowed to touch yourself and distinctly remember it telling you to be naked on the bed.” His voice is too calm, too composed. He has too much control over himself, it drives you insane sometimes.

“Well,” you sigh softly, roll your hips a bit as you keep circling your clit, “the text didn’t say not to touch myself.” You take a second to let out a few more moans, another of his name, lick your lips. “And technically I’m not really touching myself. The fabric is touching me, there’s been no skin on skin, Jackie,” you smirk at him. 

Jack clenches his jaw and lets out a short hummed laugh. He doesn’t say anything though. He just takes his scrub pants off, tosses them in the corner and looks back at you in just his boxer briefs.  

He stalks closer to the bed, closer to you. “You think you’re real fuckin’ cute, don’t you?”

“Are you saying I’m not?” You pout just a little too cloyingly and he knows you’re still trying to fuck with him. 

“That’s not an answer.” A little jaw clench there. 

“Hmmm,” you hum, finally take your fingers away from yourself and up to your mouth, sucking them clean before releasing them. “Well it’s the only one you’re going to get.” 

“That so?” 

He can be so quick when he wants to be and before his question has fully hit you and you can start thinking of some bratty reply he’s leant over the center of the foot of the bed enough to grab your ankles and pull you down the bed. It’s so unexpected you yelp, but not in pain. He’s a doctor, he knows just where to grab to not pull too much on your hip or ankle. “Well that wasn’t a very bratty noise now, was it sweetheart?”

He pulls you by the hips now so that your ass is at the edge of the bed, rips your panties down and off you. Before you can wrap your legs around his waist he catches them, holds them up parallel to his body in front of him, but spread just enough for him to stand in between them. It gives him the perfect view of your pussy, glistening and on display for him. You see his eyes slip down to take you in before he drags them back to yours. He holds your eye contact as he moves his face towards one of your ankles and breaks your gaze just as the side of his face starts to brush your inner calf. 

Jack turns his face completely and you can see him hold his breath while he gives you just a little check in, a quick kiss to the inside of your ankle. And then he takes a deep breath through his nose. 

His head snaps back to look at you, pupils blown as wide as they can be, jaw clenched and rolling with the subtlest twitch under his eye for a second that only you would notice. His hands grip your legs tighter, tight enough to hurt just a little. Anyone else might think he was looking at you with controlled but raging anger. 

But you know that it’s a look of primal, possessive need, that Jack’s on fire for you, all searing skin and simmering blood and deep panting breaths. You know that his cock hurts as it strains against the fabric of his boxer briefs because he needs you so viscerally.

There’s another glance down at your pussy again as you hum saccharinely. His eyes snap back to yours. The slowest smirk pulls across your face as you hold his gaze, your eyes smoldering at him. For him. 

“Just thought you might like a little reminder of what’s yours, that’s all.”

Jack’s chest heaves just a little harder at your words and his eyes narrow slightly before pulling from yours and traveling down your body to take in you, all on display for him as he decides just what it is he wants to do with you.  

His cologne. 

His cologne is what you sprayed on your ankles. His cologne with just enough of a hint of your perfume coming through behind it so that it smells like you do after sex when he’s owned you, touched you so much and held you so close and fucked you so hard and so deep that the dewy sweat of your skin has evaporated much but not quite all of your perfume away and his cologne has stuck to you, marking you as his.

He’s still silent. Not brooding like he does sometimes. He’s just thinking. Just using the silence to toy with you and make you wait. Something about that makes you shiver. 

And Jack thinks he has you at that shiver. Keeps silent. Keeps looking at your body, especially your cunt. Keeps waiting for you to be the one to break and speak first. And you will be. 

But Jack thinks he has you and you saw it in a quick sweep of his eyes over your face at your shiver and you simply can’t have that. Not yet. 

“What’s wrong, Jackie?” You break the silence and give the smallest pout before your smirk comes back. “Pussy got your tongue?”

He raises his eyebrows at you, a slow smirk matching your own pulling up. He laughs a little. It’s a little more dangerous than if he hadn’t reacted because of how controlled it is, how it shows how much control he still has left. “Cute,” he nods at you as he caresses your ankles, eyes narrowing just slightly. “You’re cute when you’re a brat.” 

“I try-” You’re cut off by him suddenly bending your legs at the knee and pushing them towards you as he moves closer to the bed, drops to his knees on the carpet. He rests your feet on his shoulder, leaving your ankles right there for the fragrance to perfume the air. 

He takes in another long breath through his nose and you swear you can hear him growl before soft kisses are being placed up your inner thigh. Instead of moving inward though Jack kisses outward, along the inner line where your hip and thigh meet. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t spray anything here for me to find,” he murmurs against your skin as he kisses back towards where you’re desperate for him. 

“I considered it.” The words come out a little breathless as he gets closer and closer to your center. “But decided against it because then I would’ve had to listen to you bitch about not being able to smell me.”

Jack bites your inner thigh only a few inches away from your cunt and sucks, hard. Hard enough to leave imprints of his teeth, to suck a developing bruise into your skin. As he does so his stubble rubs lightly across your lips, breath hitching and hips twitching as you fight yourself to keep them down and not give him the satisfaction. 

He releases your thigh. “I don’t bitch,” he says nonchalantly. Too nonchalantly. As though he hasn’t noticed his face is an inch and a half away from your pussy. 

“Yes you-” You’re cut off with a gasp as Jack’s tongue licks you cunt to clit. Your head falls back onto the pillow without a thought as the sensation of his tongue overwhelms you. 

“Sorry sweetheart,” he pulls away from you for just a second, “were you saying something?”

He renders you unable to answer by giving you another lick before using the tip of his tongue to trace lazy figure-eights around your clit. His tongue drops down again and he leans into you, sucks at as much of you as he can before going up to focus on your clit, taking it between his lips and sucking, but leaving just enough space to not get a complete seal so it doesn’t feel quite as good as it could. 

You whine softly about it because Jack’s eaten you out and sucked at your clit enough times for you to know how it normally feels, that he’s fucking insanely talented at it and that he never slips like this. So you know he’s doing it deliberately. 

He gives a little grunt against you to say fine, if you’re so unhappy with it he’ll go elsewhere, and the vibrations of it as he sucks and pulls away from your clit make your hips jolt. Jack’s hands immediately come up and hold your hips down, hands strong and warm and so big as he presses his fingertips down into your skin. 

Jack trails his tongue down, teasingly traces circles around your entrance as he basks in the little mewls you make for him. His cock throbs hard against the fabric of his boxer briefs and he gives the slightest groan about it. 

As quickly as his tongue dropped down to tease you it pushes inside of you and you moan, louder than you want to for him right now. Jack’s stubble rubs against your inner thighs as he tongue fucks you a few times and then pulls out, fingers squeezing your hips harder when you whine about it. 

His lips move back up to your clit and suck again, but this time the seal of them is tight around you, his tongue flicking little circles against you in his mouth. It steals your breath for a second as your back arches while your hips remain pinned to the bed by his hands. “Oh, Jack!” The moan is quiet, clearly slipping out of your lips unconsciously. Your hands fist the sheets hard before unclenching and starting to move down to his salt and pepper curls.

Jack isn’t looking at you, he has his eyes closed as he focuses on you and the little noises you’re making for him but that you’re trying to hide and how you taste and how you smell and how hot your pussy is on his skin, chin coated in you. But he doesn’t need to be looking to know your next move. 

He suddenly pulls his face from you. “Don’t even fucking try it or we’ll end this right here, right now and I’ll go fuck my fist in the shower.”

You freeze for a second and then pull your hands back up and twist at the sheets again, give him a huff. 

Jack takes the few seconds he’s pulled away from you to move his hands from your hips and push his boxer briefs down, freeing himself. He gives a little groan of relief when his hand wraps around him and tugs a few times. You’re already a little too fucked out to really notice.

He lets his hand stay there as he brings his face back to your cunt, starts licking and sucking again. He fucks his fist as he devours you whole, needs the relief even as a piece of him mourns the fact that it’s his hand and not your hand or your mouth or your cunt. 

Jack builds a pattern with his tongue, repeats it over and over as you writhe for him against the sheets, as you give him sweet little moan after moan until you’re finally moaning his name loudly. Pleasure courses through you and heat roils in your lower belly as your muscles contract tighter and tighter and Jack works you closer and closer. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you pant out “just like that Jack, just like that, fuck!”

And then he changes his pattern. You let out a vaguely frustrated sigh, but can’t stay true to it because the new pattern is just as good. You can feel him smirk against you at your sigh, move his face just a little so that his stubble scratches into you a little harder, starts to etch into your skin. 

Jack touches himself faster and faster as he licks and sucks at you, paying attention to how close he is and how close you are. The grunts and groans he pulls from himself send shivers through you and drive you that much closer to the edge. Your mind is so pleasure hazy you don’t even think to question why he’s making them. 

Once he gets himself right to the edge he slows down, is more absentminded with himself as he doubles down on you, pushes you right up to that same ledge with his tongue and mouth. He can feel your toes curl against him as you get a second away from the point of no return. 

You already know what’s going to happen but it doesn’t help, doesn’t make it easier to weather when he rips himself away from you. “No!” You cry it out for him despite yourself, despite wanting to appear unaffected. 

Jack laughs darkly. “You know only good girls get to cum, babygirl.”

You huff slightly, lay there panting with your eyes closed as you try and ride out your almost orgasm, hear Jack stand up. He lets one of your legs fall gently and holds the other up against his chest by your calf. So you wait for him. For whatever is next.  

You don’t expect the way he runs the palm of his hand through you though, the way he curls his fingers to drag up you in a way to collect as much of the arousal he’s pulled from you on his hand as possible. “Fuck, Jack!”

Your eyes fly open at you prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him. The sight of him wrapping his slicked up palm and fingers around himself and starting to fuck his fist is unexpected but anything but unwelcome. 

“This could be you, you know.” His voice is low, followed by a few low pants as he touches himself. “This should be you.” He lets his hand that’s holding your calf adjust your leg so that he can turn his head and breathe in through his nose at your upper ankle, let the smell of him owning you course through him. His head turns back and his eyes find yours. He stares at you with that same intensity from earlier but this time it’s glazed with an even heavier lust. “I should be in your hand, or your mouth, or your cunt,” he growls at you. “But am I?”

Though an obvious answer, it’s not a rhetorical question. He expects an answer. Expects you to acknowledge and think about how he’s not in your hand or your mouth or your cunt. You stare at him, can hear your heart beating in your ears, pussy growing wetter and mouth salivating at the thought. You just can’t help yourself though. 

“Well if you have to ask Jackie…” You give him a little shrug. 

“God, fuck!” Jack groans, voice strained as he aims his cock at you and comes all over your pussy and lower abdomen. He works himself through it, chest heaving, glistening with sweat and flushed as he slows his hand and releases himself. “You’re fucking pushing it,” he almost laughs, but it’s more an observation he happens to find entertaining. 

He stares at his cum that sticks so prettily to your skin and pussy, claiming you just for him as he lets himself come down from his orgasm. “You look so beautiful like his,” he murmurs lowly, voice huskier than normal. “Covered in me.”

Before you can say anything he looks away from you and grabs the panties you were wearing, uses them to clean you off and sits you up. It surprises you a little, that he’s so eager to wipe it away. But then he’s sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. 

He shows you again just how quick he can be, and you’re yelping again at the suddenness of finding yourself bent over his knees with his palm caressing one of your ass cheeks. There’s no build up. There doesn’t need to be. You know why you’re in this position. 

“Count.” It’s an order.

“Or what? You’ll spank me?”

He does, obviously. It’s a little harder than he had been planning the first one to be just because of the extra attitude, the smacking sound a little sharper. Another one to the other cheek follows swiftly. He can feel you squirm on him and hear the softest moan that just makes it through your lips into the air despite your otherwise lack of reaction. 

There’s a pause as he waits. Waits for you to say one. Two. 

“I distinctly remember telling you to count.” His voice is still so composed even with as low in pitch as it drops.

“I am!” You huff at him. He squeezes at one of your cheeks where his hand just came down. “I am!” You repeat, doing your best to sound indignant which is difficult given the position you find yourself in. “In my head.” You feel his entire body tense. “What? You just said count. Not count out loud.”

Jack takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He’s quite certain he hears you giggle about it. There’s some part of him that’s a little proud of you for this little display. He shifts his legs a little, spreads them just a bit and runs his hand over your cheek and under you to pinch your clit. Not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to make you jolt and let out another pretty little moan for him. You can feel him start to get hard again against your thigh. 

“Outloud.”

Another little giggle. 

“Sir, yes sir.” 

He’s good at spanking, you have to give him that. He gives you ten in total, five to each cheek. He doesn’t alternate every time, brings his hand down in quick succession sometimes and makes you wait torturously for it to come back down at others, varies the pressure and how hard he brings his hand down against you, where he brings it down. 

By the time he’s done tears sting at your eyes as your ass throbs, burning and sore and stinging in its own right. 

“Good girl.” It’s low, breathed out more than actually spoken as he leans you back up, but you’re still able to hear it. The part of your brain that wants to be a brat feels betrayed by the part that glows at his praise and approval and sends warm happiness flowing through you. 

“Center of the bed. On your stomach.” For once this morning you actually do as he asks, crawl your way to the center of the bed and lay on your stomach as he takes his prosthetic off and crawls up in between your legs. 

You rest your head on its side, look back at him as much as you can. His eyes run over your ass as his hands grab your hips and haul you up to your knees. You go to push yourself up on your hands or elbows but all too quickly his hand wraps around the back of your neck and pushes you back down wordlessly. 

With his other hand he gets himself lined up with you and pushes inside you slowly, cognizant that while he’s already edged you and gotten you nearly dripping for him, only his tongue has been inside you, no fingers to help prep you. You whimper but Jack knows you well enough to know that it’s not from physical pain but rather from how slowly he’s sliding into you. 

As he bottoms out Jack closes his eyes and takes deep breaths, a little shaky because fuck do you feel good and fuck has he been waiting to be buried inside you since you showed up at the Pitt. 

He pulls out of you slowly, lets you feel every ridge and vein of him before he snaps his hips hard to get himself back inside of you. 

“Ohh,” you moan out, “Jack, fuck.” He does it again, pulls out torturously slow and snaps back in. 

“You want more baby?” He says as saccharine and teasing as you’d spoken to him when he got home. He pulls out a little faster this time, moves his hand from your neck and uses both hands to help pull you back onto him so he can fuck you even harder. 

You immediately go to get up on your elbows again. “Stay down,” Jack warns, curling over you a little and using his hand to guide you back down. It changes the angle, makes him slide deeper inside of you which draws a moan from you and an erratic buck of his hips as he chases the feeling. 

“But I can’t see you like this,” you pout, breathing heavily. 

“Brats don’t get to see,” Jack grunts out, leans back up and returns both hands to your hips so that he can return to fucking you harder. 

You take in a couple of panted breaths, tilt your head at an awkward angle for a second to see a little more of him. You know he sees you do it. Somehow you manage to smile at him. 

“You’re cute when you’re all worked up.” You mirror his words from earlier back to him and manage the smallest smirk before turning your head back to a neutral position. 

Jack lets out a quick scoff. “You’re really fucking something else today.” Jack slides his hands up a little and pushes down, forcing your ass to come up higher for him, again letting him get deeper and hit harder with the added bonus of keeping your head on the mattress. He watches your hands curl in the sheets as he rails you.

“Touch yourself,” he orders. 

He snarks a laugh at how you don’t have to be given that instruction twice, hand sliding between your legs and rubbing erratically at your clit as your brain starts to get pleasure drunk off his cock.  

Neither of you speak for a bit, not real words. It’s just the sounds of your panting and the moans and groans you pull from each other and the slap of skin on skin. You’re the first to break.

“Oh god! Jack!” You mewl as the pleasure starts to overtake you. He can hear and feel how close you are.

“Stop touching yourself.” Another order. You falter on this one, like you knew he would. So he stops, removes your hand himself.

Another orgasm ebbs away from you. 

You whine but do your damndest to remain unaffected, to try not to show how desperate you’re getting. But your whine has just enough of a desperate edge to it to let Jack know he almost has you. 

“What was it you said again?” He starts rubbing your clit. “Oh yes, I remember. The anticipation and wait makes it better.” He gives another dark laugh as he starts fucking you again, just as hard and just as intense. 

“Oh fuck Jack!” You gasp out. He hadn’t given you much come down time and so you feel your orgasm cresting again quickly. 

“Close, baby?” He asks like he doesn’t already know by the feel of your cunt around him. 

You can only nod as the pleasure grows stronger and stronger, your breaths coming harder and harder as you moan nonsense to Jack. 

“Jack!” You draw his name out in a moaned whine. “Need to come. Need to.” Your speech is a little slurred now. 

“Brats don’t get to come.” It’s nearly mocking the way he says it. Cocky. Like he knows he has you now. Because he does. He knows how close you are. His pace doesn’t relent. He speaks through the panting breaths he takes. “And what are you sweetheart?” 

“A brat.” You look back up at him with watery eyes and a real pout this time, on the verge of tears of pleasure. “Please-

“You still think you’re real fuckin’ cute?” he pants, cutting you off. 

“No, I’m sorry, please Jack, Sir, I,” a few tears slide down your face. “I want to be good for you.” You’re so ready for it, so convinced he’s going to let you have it now. 

But Jack stops and pulls out of you and you let out a little sob as more tears fall.  

“Shh, shh, shh,” he shushes you softly as he flips you over so you’re on your back. “I’ve got you.”

He pushes back inside you, grabs your calves and throws one over his shoulder, takes his time with the other as he lets himself take in a deep breath through his nose at your inner ankle and lets out what sounds like a growl from the deep within his chest before settling it on him like the other. His fingers on one hand toy with your clit as he leans over you and grinds himself into you. With how worked up and sensitive you are and the sound he just made for you it’s all you need and he finally lets you have it. 

Your orgasm shatters you. You swear you lose hearing for a minute, lose the ability to breathe and that your vision goes white 

“There she is,” Jack drawls, “there’s my good girl.” He moves his hand and stills his hips, let his hands grope at your breasts, fingers gently teasing at your nipples. 

You pant hard as you try to reorient yourself, finally get your eyes back open and look up at Jack. 

“Jack,” your breathing starts to return to normal. “Please,” you breathe. 

He moves your legs off his shoulders and helps you wrap them around his waist, lowers himself down so that your chests touch. “Please gets you what you want, doesn’t it sweetheart?” He leans his head into your neck and starts kissing you there, soft teasing things. 

“Yes.” It’s just as breathless as your please and something about it drives Jack wild. You let one arm slip under his shoulder and bend up to cling to his back as much as you can, the other staying above his shoulder so that your hand can find his hair, let your fingers run through it.

Jack starts fucking you again, hard. He puts his whole body into it, arching his back and using his knees for leverage to help his thighs and hips drive into you over and over. He keeps kissing your neck, sucks at it, nibbles at the spots he knows are most sensitive. 

“Oh Jack!” You arch up into him. “Jack, Jack, Jack.” He feels too good, fucks you too good. It’s unreal. 

You hear him grunt low from deep in his chest and it makes you shiver, let out a whine. “I love the way you say my name when you’re like this. Fucked out and cock drunk.” 

Jack’s voice reveals he’s just as drunk on your pussy as you are his cock.

It rips through you out of seemingly nowhere at his words, your second orgasm, just as good as your first but deeper, more intense in the way it feels like your muscles contract so hard all your bones will snap before they release with a rush of pleasure that makes you arch into Jack again. 

His name slips off your tongue in a moaned prayer again. “Jack, Jack, Jack.”

“You sound so pretty when you come for me.” He kisses at your jaw, down your neck, sucks at your collarbone while he fucks you through it.

Jack moves his hand, slows his hips to give you a little bit of time to recover. You whimper through your tears of pleasure. He’s not chasing his own release. 

Because he’s not done with you yet.

He picks the pace of his hips back up and you moan for him, claw at his back and scalp. He knows it’s not going to take much to get you there a third time with how sensitive you are, right on the border of pleasurable and painful overstimulation.

“You’ve got one more in you for me, sweetheart, I know you do.”

You shake your head at him. “I can’t.” You sniffle and he leans in to kiss away your tears. You say that you can’t but you trust Jack to know your body more in this moment than you do, trust that he won’t push you too far, only right to your limit before bringing you back. “It’s too much Jack!” You keen as his fingers return to rub tight circles over your clit again.

“No babygirl,” Jack finally kisses you, licks into your mouth possessively and moans just as loud for you as you do for him, breaks the kiss but hovers his lips over yours so they brush against each other when he speaks, “it’s just enough.” 

Your orgasm crashes over you just as he finishes his sentence, white hot and searing. Your hands tug hard at his salt and pepper curls as you go soundless from how hard your coming, almost holding your breath as the pleasure completely takes over. Your ability to speak suddenly comes back and you let out the most erotic moan of Jack’s name that he’s ever heard.

Your cunt clenching around him, the sharp burst of pleasured pain from how hard you tug on his hair and that moan of his name are all Jack needs. He follows you, coming with a groan of your name that’s so choked and even more gravelly than his usual voice that you think for a second it might make you come again. He keeps moving his hips somehow, fucking himself through it to try and keep the feeling from ending.

“Fucking christ,” Jack groans as his hips still, propping himself up on his elbows and panting as he looks down at you. “You okay?” You’re smiling at him, eyes completely glazed over, but you nod. He knows that right now you are. It makes him smile back at you. He takes another couple of seconds to even his breathing out before kissing your cheeks and nose and forehead and chin and then your lips to bring you back down. “You. Are. So. Fucking. Perfect.” He punctuates each word with a kiss.  

You blink at him, eyes a bit clearer. So he asks again. “Hi beautiful,” he smiles down at you amusedly, “you okay?”

You come back to yourself a little more and that’s when the trembling starts as you reconnect your mind and body enough for the dump of hormones and adrenaline to hit you, your body struggling to figure out what to do with all the pleasure. “Ohhh,” you sigh out, voice a a bit shaky, “I am so much more than okay, Jack. I’m trying to figure out what layer of the fucking stratosphere you just sent me to and how I get back down,” you laugh softly. 

Jack returns the soft laugh. “Good. Water now?” You shake your head, not ready for it yet. He gives you another kiss that you return and then lowers himself on top of you. He knows his body weight and the skin on skin helps with the trembling and reorientation. You wrap your arms around him, let one hand play in his curls while the other rubs up and down his back absentmindedly. Jack feels when you stop trembling and relax.

“You did amazing sweetheart, I’m proud of you. That was a lot.” He leans back up for another kiss and you beam at him, glowing in the warmth of his body and praise. 

“Thank you,” you murmur against his lips. A beat passes. “I really got you twice there with the ankles, once at work and once with the cologne.” 

Jack snorts a laugh and buries his face in your chest. “You really are something else, you know that?” He peers up at you and the only thing you see is a man hopelessly in love with you and not afraid to show you. 

“I do.” You nod with a smirk, almost smug about it. “But I’m your something else.” You grin at him. 

Jack laughs. In a few moments he’ll ask you if you’re okay again, pull a pair of pajama pants on, put on his prosthetic and walk around shirtless to get you water without asking and probably a snack. He’ll ask if you want a bath or shower and when you say no this time he’ll rub some of the salve you have on your ass to help soothe where he spanked you. And then after his twelve plus a few hours shift followed by fucking you out of your mind he’ll ask if you’re okay if he grabs some sleep, as if you’d ever say no and won’t be half asleep yourself from the fucking he just gave you when he asks. But for now he just agrees with you. “You’re correct sweetheart,” he nods, “you’re my something else.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hopefully it was okay?

Thank you so much for reading!! Let me know your thoughts, comments etc! Liking, replying and reblogging is so so appreciated! Requests are open and I love chatting!

If you'd like to be added to my Jack Abbot taglist please message me!

If you asked to be tagged and were not, please shoot me a message! I think it should work this time but I do not trust tumblr! If it doesn't please bear with me while I get it sorted. Thank you!

Taglist: I'm so sorry we went straight from No Man's Land to pure smut, that will be an incredible rarity here. Like this is very well likely to be the only time.

@yxtkiwiyxt @viridian-dagger @generalstarlightobject @andabuttonnose @beebeechaos @pear-1206 @starkgaryan @travelingmypassion @marvelcasey05 @millenialcatlady @loveyhoneydovey @rocker-chick-7 @mayabbot @taylorswifts-cardigan @phernandez2001 @sammiib444 @livinthevidaloca-ish @morallygreymaniac @woodxtock @shaydawgsblog @deadneverlander @imonlyhereformemes14-blog @sleepingalways @thelightnessofthebeing @generalstarlightobject @dudewithastick @thatoneawesomechicka @rebeccasaurusrex @mc-bbeth @compressoexpresso @evermoresivy @beebeechaos @loverofmusic @pastelbunnelby @literaryslapshot @sweetdayme4427 @joko-00 @phoenixhalliwell @chaotichurricaneoffandoms @chillicrackers @cosmoscoffeee @melancholicstation @scrappybear89 @xxemmarldxx @lm-lg-4ever @margoniezniez @diamond-gardens @keileighr @nobiggiebabe @a-stari-night

[doctormohansamira]

I'm usually thinking about the ways in which Samira doesn't let her guard down and isolates herself from her colleagues, but it's also interesting to note that she makes an attempt to reach out and be more honest about how she's feeling about her work environment not once but twice – first to Dana, then to Collins. And the response she gets from these women, for all that they make a same key point, is very different.

Collins backs Samira completely. She tells her not to worry about Robby snapping at her. She apologizes for not seeing her value and for making fun of her behind her back. She makes it clear that she does understand Samira's approach now, and that she trusts her as a doctor. And most importantly, she follows up their conversation by standing up for her to Robby – telling him she trusts her and he should, too; pointing out that his hounding her was having a detrimental effect on her and her work. It's such a good set of interactions, and such a good follow up on Samira's early comment to Dana that Robby's bad day was no reason to take out his temper on her, we could almost forget the rest of the context of that first conversation.

Dana points out that it was a bad day for Robby, just like Collins des. But it's to make the argument that Samira ought to cut him some slack for being a dick. After she makes the point that he shouldn't lash out at her just because Adamson died on that day, Dana fixes her with a look, and she immediately backs off, saying that she was "just saying". And later, after Robby has to face the fact Samira's patient satisfaction rates are of value in preventing them from being sold to private equity, and he admits that she's doing better and he needs more of her, Dana jokes about having never imagined he could have ever wished for more Samiras. It's a really weird vibe.

Two people who have known Samira for exactly as long as each other and have longer pre-existing relationships with Robby reacted extremely differently to her opening up to them about how stressful she was finding his criticism. It really drives home Heather's awareness of the disparities in risk between fully trained doctors with decades of experience and younger residents that are also women of colour.

[writtenbycassandra]

i usually don't talk about httyd on here, but for some reason i've felt the sudden urge to rewatch all the tv shows and overanalyze everything and i've got some things to say about the twins (mainly ruffnut). they are actually so underrated and not necessarily in the fandom, but rather when it comes to the shows itself. especially in rob/dob, where they barely have any characterizations at all. this is such a missed opportunity because both of them can be extremely perceptive and witty at times. they have lots of random knowledge, are multilingual and actually show interest in topics such as poetry, philosophy, psychology etc. (their entire character designs just scream insomniac kids with ADHD).

specifically ruffnut is pretty smart. she is one of the best liars in the dragon rider group (tbh the bar is set pretty low) and extremely cunning. that one scene where she tricked the dragon hunter guard by pretending to crack? only to steal his key without anyone noticing?? this comes to my mind. or how she just straight up lied to viggo and ryker without showing a hint of fear or remorse? and the entire thing with gruffnut. to me, she seems like she just doesn't really care and wants to keep the expectations low to have fun. also, her calling astrid out for not respecting the team was completely valid, especially if you consider the character dynamics. although astrid is a lot more present in the show, ruffnut has a stronger connection to the other dragon riders (except from hiccup). ruffnut, tuffnut, snotlout and (even) fishlegs have plenty of bonding moments together, where you can sense the found family vibes. astrid mostly ignores fishlegs/only talks to him about hiccup/rolls her eyes at him, is openly aggressive when it comes to snotlout, and dismisses everything the twins say. she, too, never got really close to ruffnut (another missed opportunity), which is why there was barely any female friendship represenation in the main group. (i mean, there was heather, but she wasn't there the entire time in rtte and barely at all in rob/dob.)

also, i think the twins were just generally more fleshed out in rtte than they were in rob/dob. like, tuffnut got his chicken and we see all his hyperfixations (mostly very dangerous dragons, which is just a mood on its own). and i loved the scenes where we saw that they actually cared for each other a lot. like when ruffnut forced snotlout to get bitten by every dragon possible just to convince her brother that he wouldn't turn into one. and tuffnut giving up his beloved maze, realizing that his sister was more important than his weapon, which was just an item he could replace.

i just generally love the twins and their sometimes chill and sometimes chaotic vibe.

[uhhhj13iguess]

do you want to have sex with me, yes or no??

stiles stilinski x reader

summary: it had been a week since stiles kissed you, and you began to question how he was feeling. lucky for you, nothing with stiles ever goes the way you expect it to

wc: 1.6k

okay this is the scene from new girl in s2 ep19 where nick and jess fight and make out, and i just think that stiles stilinski has such nick miller vibes

i want to be clear that i did use a lot of the exact language from in the scene! a large chunk of the dialogue is not my work and is from the show, i just wanted to envision it in a stiles x reader sense! does that make sense lol

obvi all involved are 18+! no explicit smut, but mdni!! fbi!stiles but it's new girl vibes where you live with scott, isaac, and stiles.

masterlist and taglist!

you sat on top of the kitchen island, a soft blanket around your shoulders and ben and jerry pint in hand. you sat in humiliation, shoving the ice cream into your mouth as you recounted earlier at stiles' unit holiday party.

stiles was grabbing drinks for you and scott, talking your ear off about something you couldn't quite remember. you were too busy staring at his lips as he spoke, the two drinks in you flooding your brain with memories of your first kiss with stiles last week. you could still feel his lips on yours, and it gave you butterflies every time you thought about it. you hadn't spoken about it since, but the combination of the alcohol and seeing him somewhat dressed up made you feel bolder.

he handed you a glass, your fingers brushing long enough to ignite something inside of you. and by the look on his face, it seemed as though he felt the same.

"stilinski! good to see you, pretty boy," a voice echoed as you turned to see an utterly gorgeous woman walk up to your group. stiles' face immediately turned pale, panic apparent on his features. she slapped his ass with a wink, earning shocked faces from you and scott.

"who'd you bring tonight?" she sat with her arm resting on his shoulder, eyeing you up and down.

stiles sat wide-eyed, glancing between the two of you as he cleared his throat. "oh uh, well, chief, i-i mean, nora... you know... scott,"

nora gave him a wink, flustering the alpha. his response didn't give you much confidence.

"and this is, um..." your name fell from his lips, trailing off as he stared at you. nora gave him a weird look.

you raised your eyes at him. "yeah stiles, who am i?"

"this is my... um... fr-, uh... room...mate...?"

you scoffed, downing the rest of your wine before handing the empty glass to scott. he flashed you a pained smile.

"it was nice to meet you, nora. scott, i'll see you at home. have a good night, guys."

you left the bar, hearing stiles call after you in the distance. you bounded towards your apartment, ignoring the regret in your heart at your immediate reaction to the entire situation.

you hadn't meant to get so jealous. it was just one kiss. one, hot, hungry kiss. but that was all. you weren't together, and stiles didn't need to justify himself to you. he hadn't brought it up since it happened, and you were beginning to wonder if he wasn't thinking about it the same way you were.

you pouted and sat in your discomfort, hands wet from the condensation of the pint. you heard the turn of the lock in your silence and instinctively pulled your blanket tighter.

stiles walked in slowly, eyes still glazed from the night previous activities. he approached with caution, an unknown tension in the air leaving you both on guard. he took a deep breath.

"well, i've got some explaining to do—"

"shut up," you shovled another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. he stared back at you, lips pursed.

"i'm really glad her name is nora, you know? really rubs the dirt in it." stiles cringed as you referenced his fling last year with derek's sister.

"mhm."

you let out a strained, short laugh. "what's next? lia? heather? ha!"

"listen, (y/n), okay. look, i need to talk to you about something. last night when we were drunk, you told me you want me."

you froze instantly, but jumped to play it off. you let out a scoff, making mockery at the idea he'd even suggest that. "pfft, shut up, stiles."

"you put your hand in my pocket. you said this little piggy wants to go to the market." he deadpanned at you.

"what."

"if that's something you were just saying, that's fine, that's cool. we'll move on and won't talk about it," you ran you hands up your temples, memories of last night flooding your brain.

"but it is something i've thought a lot about. and you never said anything about it, and we haven't talked about anything over the past week, and so i didn't know if this piggy was, you know, was available to other markets, and... you know, i didn't know. and—"

"WHAT are you talking about?!"

"do you want to have sex with me yes or no?!"

"YES!"

the both of you stood frozen, staring at each other with wide eyes.

"i mean no! yes, i mean, i did! i did, before i knew you were doing all that with your boss!" you quipped, quickly saying anything you could to take it back.

stiles huffed, his hands in the air, but his eyes still gave away his shock. "fine! forget the boss!"

you scoffed back at him and crossed your arms. "yeah well, you know, i just thought it was nice seeing you trying at something at work, you know. applying yourself more."

stiles' face contorted into confusion.

"that's why you're more attached to me??"

"no, well i—"

"you're a fucking golddigger!" he promclaimed. your jaw dropped in awe that he would even suggest such a thing.

"WHAT!"

"that's what you just said!" crossing his arms, stiles stood taller as though he'd won the argument.

"if i were a gold digger, do you think i'd go for you, stiles? you spend $20 a week on groceries, and it's exclusively on microwavable burritos!"

he stood firm in his accusation. "gold digger!"

"what? i'm not a freaking golddigger!"

"i'm so disappointed in you."

"shut up! i am not a gold digger!"

there was a pause between the two of you, heavy tension suddenly filling the room. you felt hot, the quiet exasperating your senses and overwhelming you. stiles was quick to notice the change in the air, taking advantage of it and stepping closer to you. he never lost your eyes, bringing a falter to your knees.

you softly cleared your throat, internaling deciding to match his energy. you took a step closer to him as well, now nearly chest to chest.

stiles looked down at you, his eyes immediately and shamelessly on your lips. "then prove it."

you took the final step that closed the gap between you, attaching your lips to his with force. he kissed back instantly, his hands firm on your waist. everything about it was hungry, an overdue release of tension that had been building for far too long.

it didn't take long for the initial kiss to intensify, stiles' hands rough in your hair as you trailed your hot lips down his cool neck, the sensation alone sure to leave burn marks.

nothing about what was happening was quiet. you groaned against each other's lips, each kiss wet and noisy. stiles took you firmly by the shoulders and backed you towards the dinner table, never once daring to remove his lips from yours. a sharp gasp left your lips.

this is the moment you'd both been waiting for since your first kiss a week ago, and nothing was about to stop you.

stiles took another step, miscalculating how close you were to the table already. his foot landed harshly on yours, immediately pulling you out of the moment.

you bent over to grab your foot, looking up at him to gawk at him. "stiles, what the hell??"

"i'm sorry, get your damn foot out of the way! shut up and keep kissing me, right now!"

you let out a huff of frustration and swung your head upwards, aggressively colliding with his. sharp groans harmonized throughout the loft.

stiles grabbed his nose. "what the actual hell was that!"

"get your damn head out of the way!" you echoed his words back to him, finger pointing at his chest.

"you're fucking impossible. you are such a mess!"

"you are the most insufferable person. ever!"

"why are so you annoying all of the time?"

"shut up and take off your clothes right now. i mean it, take off your clothes."

your response caught in your throat as you heard him, but you don't let it throw you off for long. you couldn't dare let him know he had that effect on you (you think as you began to unbutton your flannel).

"you are the worst, stilinski! i still cannot believe you calling me a gold digger. you actively do not believe in banks. what am i supposed to do with that!"

stiles was shoving everything off the kitchen table as quickly as he could, groaning in frustration as you rambled on. he grabbed the last few tools off the table and turned to you with a fury.

"stop talking! this is not the time to be talking! take off your shirt!" as he yelled at you, his hands flew out in exaggeration to gesture towards your half-unbuttoned shirt.

there was a loud CRACK as his left hand made contact with the 4-foot aquarium in the middle of the kitchen, glass and saltwater flooding the room around them. you both stood in shock as you watched isaac's new lionfish flop for dear life on the ground.

"holy shit, isaac's gonna kill us."

[terapsina]

Let's talk books. Sorted in threes by vibes.

-------

I Support Women's Wrongs (murder, slaughter and body horror galore).

---

How to Become the Dark Lord and Die Trying ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Django Wexler - A woman from Earth is dropped into a magical realm, meant to save the Kingdom from the FoRCes of DaRKneSSss... except, unfortunately that might have been a thousand years worth of time loops ago, so it's rather time to lose one's temper and decide to become the Dark Lord herself.

Main character -> basically Deadpool (measured in sanity, humor and levels of bisexual horniness)).

Someone You Can Build a Nest In ⭐⭐⭐⭐ by John Wiswell - Shesheshen, a shapechanging monster who's rudely interrupted during her hibernation by hunters. Manages to to eat one of them, unfortunately she also gets shot by an arrow and falls off a cliff. On the bright side she meets a lovely human woman she might end up falling in love with so much... she'll want to build a nest in her (it's possible there's some Cultural Differences that need to be worked through).

Hench ⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Natalie Zina Walschots - Anna's latest temp job for a villain (because even supervillains need office help) ends with her carelessly injured by a superhero, laid off and with injured mobility for the foreseeable future (because human bodies don't see much difference between getting hit by a truck and getting moved out of way by someone able to pick up a truck). Angry, disillusioned, and looking for some vengeful payback she starts compiling the statistics of exactly how much suffering gets left behind the heroes and in quick order finds a new job working for one of the worst supervillains in the neighborhood.

-------

Extremely Competent Women Show Up to Fix Everyone's Shit (with a whallop of romance which was actually sweet instead of irritating)

---

The Witchwood Knot ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Olivia Atwater - Winifred Hall was invited to the Witchwood Manor under the pretense of being the governess for a very bratty kid, but when said boy suddenly turns into a very quiet and perfectly bland boy overnight it's very obvious her charge has been stolen by faeries (and it might have something to do with the actual reason she's there). Rescue however is complicated by some factors, one, there being something terribly dark and wrong about the house (normal houses don't have screaming faces in the walls), another, the faerie man posing as the manor's butler who would very much like to make her run screaming the way so many servants had before her (unfortunately for him, she's not even half as scared of him as she is the eyes of the father of her charge).

This one's about dealing with past trauma, and otherworldly terrors paling in comparison to mundane monsters, set in a very beautiful and dark and shiver-inducing Victorian time world where the Fair Folk are very real.

(Same world as her Regency Faerie Tales trilogy that Started with Half a Soul but it's not necessary to read that one first to enjoy this one)

Keeper of Enchanted Rooms ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Charlie N. Holmberg - Merritt Fernsby inherits a house only to be immediately taken hostage by what turns out to be a very stubborn and opinionated magical house. Hulda Larkin of the Boston Institute for the Keeping of Enchanted Rooms goes there to facilitate the relationship between the house and its new owner.

It's supposed to be a very simple job. Unfortunately there's a third POV character in this book (no, not the Whimbrel House, though I adore that house and *insert here the Rosa Diaz gif about her new puppy and how she would kill everyone in this room and then herself if anything were to happen to that dog*). Anyway, they're a bit... uhhh... let's go with Bad News.

Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Faeries ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Heather Fawcett - As one might expect from the title, Emily (a Cambridge scholar) wants to write the first ever encyclopedia of faeries. And she's brilliant enough to do it, what she's terrible at is people (*insert autistic character alert here*).

Someone else might then say it's lucky that a fellow scholar with a far easier time at charming people has stuck his toes in her reaserch trip into the Hidden Ones... that person however doesn't understand how irritating, frustrating and maddening her academic rival Wendell Bambleby actually is.

What follows is a story filled with winter snows, some terrible fae, some adorable fae, some not-very-secret fae, the goodest of good dogs, and lots and lots of squabbling. It's the best.

-------

Dark and Impactful Stories about Children Who Decide on Their Own Paths

---

A Skinful of Shadows ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Frances Hardinge - Kate, an orphan and the illegitimate daughter of some stuffy (and evil) aristocrats runs away because being a bastard doesn't mean she didn't inherit the family magic that allows her to get possessed by the dead.

A dead bear ghost is one thing, a Get Out situation is something else entirely.

A Sorceress Comes to Call ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by T. Kingfisher - Cordelia isn't allowed friends or the privacy of closed doors, and whenever she's done something she shouldn't - a category too unpredictable to guard against - she's not allowed power over her own body.

Because her mother is an evil sorceress (think Regina and Cora... except somehow even worse). An evil sorceress that has found herself a Squire to lure into a marriage.

Hester is an old maid living with her brother, a Squire (well look at them coincidences), when said brother acquires a woman clearly set on his fortune. The plan is only to save her brother, except Hester can't help noticing how the woman's daughter keeps flinching in her mother's presence.

In The Lives of Puppets ⭐⭐⭐⭐ by TJ Klune - A family can be an android inventor, his human son (*homoromantic asexual alert*), a sadistic nurse droid, and a very emotional roomba.

And it can be a very happy family. Until one uncovers and wakes up an android that shares a very Skynet past with one's father, said father gets kidnapped, and one has to go on a journey to get him back.

(A book I like to call Sci-fi Reverse Pinocchio)

-------

Unraveling an Unjust System (and a hero that - on a scale from occasionally to constantly - hears a disembodied voice directly in their heads okay the connection between these three is a bit of a stretch but they're all great books so shut up)

---

Hell for Hire ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Rachel Aaron - 5000 years ago Gilgamesh conquered the heavens, enslaved the demons and made it so that the only road to magic humanity had access, was through him.

Now, however a mercenary team made up of free demons gets hired by a Blackwood witch to protect him (and his familiar, the talking cat named Boston) while he puts down roots (literally) inside the new forest grove he's about to start so that he can stand up against the warlocks after him.

The witch quickly becomes the best client Bex and her crew have ever had (after all, warlocks under the rule of the Eternal King Gilgamesh are slavers of their kind, they are delighted at the chance to kill some).

Vespertine ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Margaret Rogerson - In a world where the veil between the living and the dead has been kinda broken Artemisia (*another autistic character alert*) is training to be a Gray Sister (magic nun).

Until her convent gets attacked by possessed soldiers and she has no choice but to pick up a Saint's Relic containing a malevolent revenant to protect it.

Problem. Only a Vespertine is supposed to do it. Another problem. The only one "alive" who can teach her to be a Vespertine is the revenant. Another another problem. The revenant cannot be trusted and if she loses control to it, the death toll will be counted in cities.

Terminal Alliance ⭐⭐⭐⭐¾ by Jim C. Hines - Post Zombie Apocalypse, where some aliens showed up, sort of cured the zombies and took the (mostly) cured zombies into their military.

Which leads us to Marion Adamopoulos, also known as Mops, the Leutenant in charge of Shipboard Hygene and Sanitation of the Earth Mercenary Corps Ship Pufferfish.

Right up until a bioweapon turns the entire crew except her crew back into zombies. Congratulations, she's the captain now.

(Space Janitors save the universe story).

-------

[lalalychee-x]

"College boy." Rodrick Heffley x male!reader pt 2

THIS IS AN ABSOLUTELY GOATED request for part 2 from 🌾🍞 anon, who asked for a part 2 and I'm flattered!! I'M SORRY, ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE YOU REQUESTED A PART 2, I HAVE EXAMS AAAAA- Hope you enjoy this part too (they get freaky)...!! Mwaaaaa asks always open guys, I love them!

cw: period-typical attitudes to being gay (not homophobia though), male/amab reader, older/college reader (21), Rodrick in last year of highschool, so he's 18, awkward first-time blowjobs, rude/crude teenage boy humour

★ It's been a while since Rodrick tripped over his sexuality, thinking of you so badly he actually couldn't escape a speeding ticket when driving his van. So now he actually has to walk home and he hates it. Even worse when a certain convertible pulls up and he REALLY doesn't want to decline a free ride... click here for part 1

Rodrick needed to back-track this all. Okay, he'll admit, he WAS thinking about it. Thinking about it all day, all week.

It all started when he got Heather's number when he flirted with her outside the bowling alley, and told him to "swing by sometime." And he had. Of course he had. He was Rodrick Fucking Heffley, who got punked by a group of highschool girls.

So how the hell did he end up slammed against a granite countertop, gripping a stranger's expensive shirt while their tongue was halfway down his throat?

Well, turns out Heather's older brother wasn't just some preppy dude with a nice car. He was hot. Older, confident, smug as hell — the kind of guy who looked at Rodrick like he was a stray dog he was about to either adopt or put in his lap just to see what would happen.

And Rodrick let it happen.

No one knew. He hadn't talked about it. Who would he even tell? Rodrick hadn't even looked him in the eye the next time he came around to pick Heather up — just stayed silent, face hot, like he was afraid his dick was gonna remember what happened if he said more than a sentence.

Now it's been a couple weeks.

And today, Rodrick was trying so hard to look cool.

He was waiting out front of the school with his bandmates, sprawled across the sidewalk like they owned the place, cracking jokes and pretending they weren't all probably failing. Rodrick had his jacket off his shoulders like it was a cape. Fingerless gloves, shirt unbuttoned just enough to say yeah, 'I know I'm hot,' eyeliner smudged on purpose.

It was a whole look. And you were eating it up.

Heather was taking forever. Probably reapplying lip gloss or bullying freshmen or whatever she did.

His friends were trickling off, getting picked up or peeling away on their sad little skateboards one by one. Rodrick stayed put, tapping his boot against the pavement, adjusting his chain wallet, glancing at his phone for no reason. Just vibing.

And then?

Then he heard it.

A car horn — short, sharp, and obnoxious — ripped through the air like a slap across the face.

Rodrick's head snapped up.

He finally noticed you.

Window down. Arm draped out the side, knuckles loose on the wheel. Designer sunglasses. Lip between your teeth, chewing gum slow and deliberately like you were in a goddamn commercial. The engine purred like a threat. You looked like sin on legs and a fat inheritance.

And you were looking right at him.

Rodrick froze like he'd just been caught with his pants down.

Because in a way, he had. And after what happened last time? He doesn't want to imagine having his pants down, because... well, that's obvious.

The car didn't roll past. It lingered. Engine purring low AGAIN like it was laughing at him.

Rodrick squinted against the sun, already feeling the heat crawl up his neck. He didn't move. He could've walked away, sure. Pretended he didn't see you. Kept his pride and maybe a shred of sanity.

But he didn't.

Instead, he stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, jaw clenched like he was trying to win a fight he didn't even know he was in yet.

The convertible idled in front of him, all sleek lines and ego. Then came the voice.

"Hey, loser."

You were leaned out the window, sunglasses low on your nose, gum clicking against your teeth. That grin on your face? It was unholy. Like you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

Rodrick rolled his eyes so hard he almost saw the moment you kissed him play out in the back of his skull. "Real original," he muttered, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Aw, don't pout." You stretched your arm a little farther out the window, flexing your fingers mockingly. "I figured you'd be flattered I remembered you."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not." He puffed up a little, angling his shoulder like he wanted to block your view but couldn't stop himself from inching closer to the car. "What're you even doing here?"

You popped your gum. Loud. "Picking up my bitchy little sister. What else?"

Rodrick blinked. "Heather?"

"Duh."

His brows knit together, mouth twitching like he couldn't decide between confusion or sarcasm. "She left like... fifteen minutes ago."

You tilted your head, mock confusion on your face.

"Did she now?"

You slammed your palm hard against the outside of the door with a thunk, arm still draped lazily out the window, wrist dangling like you owned the whole damn parking lot. The car jumped slightly under your force, and Rodrick actually flinched.

You didn't smile, cursing obnoxiously loud, "That bitch."

For a second, his face was all wide eyes and instinct, like a feral cat cornered behind a dumpster.

Then he burst out laughing.

Not just a chuckle—a full, mocking cackle that cracked out of his chest like he was watching a soap opera and you were the main character having a meltdown. "Holy shit," he snorted, "You look like a pissy brat. Relax, man."

You narrowed your eyes. "Shut the hell up."

Rodrick took a step forward, one arm just above the driver's window, leaning in casually and milking this new authority—like he'd won something. "Touchy, huh? Thought you were all grown up—"

"Touchy?" you cut him off sharply, voice low now, almost a growl. "You wanna talk about touchy? Last time I recall you're the kid—a kid with a raging boner."

The laugh caught in his throat.

Rodrick's mouth opened, then closed. Like maybe if he stared at you long enough, you'd take it back. His ears turned a distinct, traitorous red.

You popped your gum again, the sound sharp as a slap, and let your arm hang loose again like you weren't even phased. You stared into his face, his more rigid posture and his fist against your car. You weren't phased, god no, you saw pathetic, barely legal teens running their mouths all the time. But this time, you wanted that mouth on something else—eyeliner, cracked lips and smudged makeup all.

Rodrick, however, looked like someone had just unplugged his amp mid-set.

"Well?" You grin, eyes flicking from his face down to his studded belt then back up again, "You better run home, buddy. Before your mommy tells y' off or something?"

Rodrick didn't move.

His hand curled into a loose fist against the top of your car door, knuckles pale like he was using it to stay grounded. His eyes flicked down to the tires, then your rims, then back to your face. He was quiet for a second too long, and that silence said everything.

You raised an eyebrow. "What, cat got your tongue?"

"No," he muttered, voice tighter now, jaw clenched like he'd just bit down on glass. "Just thinkin'."

You leaned your cheek into your shoulder, blinking at him real slow. "Let me guess. Van trouble?"

Rodrick's eyes narrowed.

You huffed a little laugh, shifting in your seat. "Right. You've been walking, haven't you? What happened, Daddy find out you drive like a bat outta hell?"

He didn't respond, just gave you a glare that tried to be threatening but only made you smirk harder.

You dragged your tongue across your teeth and clicked your gum again. "I'll give you a ride."

Rodrick perked up ever so slightly, but you held up a hand like a cop issuing a citation.

"Backseat."

His face dropped.

"What?"

You popped the car door lock with a little click, lazily jabbing your thumb over your shoulder. "You heard me. You wanna get driven, you sit in the back. Can't have you near the stereo, you might get ideas."

"Are you serious?" His voice cracked with disbelief and something dangerously close to a whine.

You smiled now, mean and slow. "Dead serious."

Rodrick looked at the door, then at you, jaw working like he was chewing rocks. "You treat me like a fuckin' dog, man."

You shrugged. "Nah. I like dogs."

He muttered something under his breath—definitely a curse, probably directed at you—but he opened the back door anyway, dragging his feet like he was being escorted to a prison van.

You watched him slump into the seat through the rearview mirror. "Good boy."

Rodrick flipped you off immediately, middle finger directed at you through the mirror, leanign against the window like a little shit.

You didn't start the car.

Instead, you leaned forward, grabbing a fresh piece of gum from the center console, slow and deliberate like you were on a break instead of chauffeuring some crusty eyeliner gremlin with control issues. You unwrapped it with a flick of your wrist, popped it in your mouth, and started chewing again, slow like molasses.

Rodrick squinted at you through the rearview mirror. "Dude. What are you—?"

You turned, not your whole body, just your head, resting your elbow on the wheel like you had all the time in the world. "You want some?"

He looked at the pack, then at you, suspicious. "Is that the weed kind?"

You rolled your eyes. "No, princess. I wouldn't waste the good shit on you. Pink lemonade. Super innocent. Calm down."

Rodrick gave a little scoff but didn't move.

"Suit yourself," you said with a hum, stretching just enough to spit the old gum into a tissue and stuff it into the door pocket. "More for me."

A pause.

"Just drive," Rodrick gritted, leaning his forehead against the glass like he was trying to escape by osmosis or something.

You made a soft noise of protest, exaggerated and bratty. "Can't. Finishing my gum. Can't you see? My mouth's busy."

Rodrick groaned, leaning back again, both hands in his hair now.

You caught his eye in the mirror, that same mirror where he'd glared at you, flipped you off, bit back a dozen smartass retorts. And now?

Now his gaze was stuck. Jaw clenched. Thighs spread just a little too wide.

Your smirk curved wider, and you tilted your head.

"Unless," you said, voice dropping slow and sticky, "you want your mouth busy too?"

Rodrick stopped breathing.

Like actually. You saw it. His chest locked up, and his eyes darted from your mouth to the back of your headrest and then down to his lap like maybe that would save him. He HAD been thinking about it all week. He was basically semi-hard for days, honestly (though he'd never admit it), too embarrassed to jack it off.

You didn't turn around. Just stayed staring into the rearview, chewing your gum, letting the quiet buzz of the car hold the moment taut.

And now Rodrick Heffley looked less like a punk and more like a problem about to beg for one himself.

"Well?"

Rodrick cleared his throat. Loud. Like maybe that'd distract from the very obvious urge 

"I'm not— gay— or into...that—," he muttered.

You raised your brows at the mirror. "Cool. Neither is gum, but you've been chewing on me with your eyes since the kitchen."

"Jesus," he groaned, pushing his palms to his face. "You don't get it."

"No, I do." You smirked and let your tongue flick against the gum once. "You're not gay. You just—what? Accidentally had your tongue down my throat? Accidentally got hard? Accidentally stood in the shower for twenty minutes thinking about it, but didn't jack off because that would make it gay?"

Rodrick flinched. You grinned. You knew.

His hands dropped to his lap again. "I didn't—fuck off, dude—"

"Aw, c'mon," you crooned, turning your head just slightly now, still leaned casually against the wheel like you had all the cards. "I'm just saying. If you're gonna moan about being straight, you might wanna stop looking like you're one lip-bite away from crawling up here and asking me to fuck you."

He scowled, flustered, but didn't deny it.

You let the silence crawl back in, slow and viscous, like syrup in the heat. Then, softly but it wasn't meant to soothe him or anything—the exact opposite actually,

"Unless that's not what you want. Maybe you don't wanna fuck. Maybe you just wanna suck."

Rodrick blinked, almost spluttering over nothing. "What the hell—"

"Not a bad option." You popped your gum again. "Start slow. Feel it out. Literally. Could be an experiment. You're in high school, right? Great time for science."

Rodrick looked like he might short-circuit. He opened his mouth. Closed it.

He's a highschooler, a dude at that too—sex and porn is meant to be funny, obnoxious and excite him. Not nervous, god why is he nervous?

Then, very softly, his gaze dropped and he muttered something that sounded like:

"...I mean—not...I dunno..."

It wasn't a yes. But it wasn't a no either. You could work with that.

You reached up and killed the engine. The quiet thud echoed loud in the space between you. You unbuckled your seatbelt, smooth and slow, then rolled your neck like you had time to kill.

Then, one hand shoved casually in your pocket, you stepped out of the car.

Rodrick straightened in the backseat, heart pounding like the drums he thought made him cool.

And you rounded the side, steps easy. Measured. Like you weren't about to absolutely ruin him, "Let's take care of that week-long boner, loser."

The second the door clicked shut behind you, Rodrick had to stop himself from backing away, cursing at first but shut up immediately. No time wasted — your fingers curled around his collar, tugging him forward until your mouths collided in a kiss so messy it knocked your teeth together. He tasted like Coke and teenage desperation, and you still tasted like that gum you'd been chewing, artificial mint and sugar, sweet and sharp on his tongue. It made his knees weak.

He leaned back against the seat, trying to match your rhythm, but he was all nerves and fidgeting hands, kissing like someone who'd had a few hot dreams and maybe tried it once behind a garage in seventh grade. Your lips moved slow, dragging over his in a way that had him chasing after the contact, heat rising up his neck. Every time your teeth scraped his lower lip, he gasped into your mouth like you'd stolen all the air from the car.

You kissed like you were used to this. Like you knew how to melt someone down to mush without even breaking a sweat. And Rodrick, poor Rodrick, who always tried so hard to look cool with his flannels and black nail polish and that stupidly smug walk, was crumbling already.

You gripped the sides of his unbuttoned flannel, easing it off his shoulders, one arm at a time, and he let you, blinking up at you like you were something holy and dangerous. Underneath, his vintage Iron Maiden tee clung to his chest, collar stretched and sleeves rolled, like he'd tried way too hard to look effortless that morning. He wasn't pulling it off now—he looked flustered, cheeks pink and lips slick, like he'd been caught in something too big for him.

He shifted, sitting up slightly, and fumbled at the button of your jeans. His fingers were trembling. He missed the catch the first time, then the second. His nails scraped your waistband. You didn't help—just watched, still half-straddling him in the cramped backseat, licking your lips like you were enjoying the show.

"Take your time," you said, slow and syrupy, practically crooning it against his jaw.

Rodrick froze. Looked up at you, eyes wild, like you'd just pulled a gun on him. His face twisted, flustered and furious, and he scoffed, "Fuck you. You're takin' the piss right now."

You laughed, quiet and rich, leaning in until your forehead bumped his. "Nah," you whispered, your lips brushing his again, so soft it made him twitch. "I just like watching you try."

His breath hitched. You kissed him again—this time slower, letting him taste the gum still on your tongue, sticky-sweet and minty. It pissed him off on how good it tasted—he made a mental note to actually take the gum next time you offered. 

Next time? God, why is he even thinking about a "next time"?

It took Rodrick a solid thirty seconds to finally undo your belt. He kept tugging at the wrong loop, too forceful, too clumsy, and you leaned your weight back on your palms, watching him like this was entertainment. Maybe it was. His brows were drawn together, lips parted in concentration. When he finally got the tongue of the belt through the buckle, he let out a breath like he'd just cracked a safe.

The zipper was easier—he tugged it down in one slow motion, the sound loud in the heated silence of the car. He paused when your cock was free, stiff and flushed, the tip already glistening. His eyes widened just a little. You didn't miss it. You never did. You've done this a few times before, but he clearly hasn't even seen porn of two dudes before.

"You're a guy too, Rodrick," you said, voice warm with amusement. "You know what feels good, right?"

He nodded, hesitant. One hand cupped you awkwardly, his fingers twitching like he wasn't sure where to start, then finally curled around your cock. His touch was cautious at first—slow pumps, like he was still testing the waters. But it only took a few strokes before he found a rhythm, the kind that made your hips jerk slightly forward into his hand.

"Mmph," you exhaled, half-laughing, half-moaning. "Damn. You're pretty good at this."

That did it—Rodrick's cheeks lit up instantly, a flush rising from his collar to the tips of his ears.

You tilted your head, grin sharp. "So how often do you jerk off to get this good at handling dick, huh?"

He choked on air—literally coughed, pulling his hand back like your cock had burned him or something. "What the fuck—?!"

You laughed outright this time, low and throaty, grabbing his wrist and guiding it back to your crotch. "Relax. I said you were good. Don't go getting all shy on me now."

Rodrick muttered something again—something that might've been fuck off or I hate you or Jesus Christ—but he was still holding you, still moving his hand, and you were still panting through your teeth, barely holding in a groan.

"Don't just use your hands," you said slowly, your voice going silkier, heavier. "Use your mouth. C'mon."

His eyes snapped to yours like you'd just pulled the emergency brake mid-highway. "What?!"

You just tilted your hips forward, cock tapping lightly against his lower lip, a bead of precum catching on the edge of his mouth. "C'mon. I've seen how you stare. Open up. I'll tell you what to do."

He was frozen. And then, so slowly it was almost comical, his lips parted, breath trembling.

"Keep your head down. Windows are glass, y'know?" you murmured, your fingers threading into his hair, guiding his head down to hollow out his mouth. "Now choke on something for real, babe."

Rodrick pulled off for a moment, panting and wet lips against your tip, brows furrowed in a weak glare, "Call me babe again, I'll bite your fucking dick off."

You huffed a laugh, "Sure, sweetheart."

And before he could snap back, you nudged his mouth open again with a firm, guiding hand on his scalp.

He went back down slower this time. Less out of hesitation—more like...curiosity. His lips wrapped around your tip, warm and tentative, and you felt the way he breathed through his nose, nostrils flaring as the weight of your cock settled onto his tongue. The taste hit him in waves—salty, bitter, heady—and his whole face twitched like he didn't know if he hated it or if he wanted more.

He tried to hide it. Tried to pretend he was indifferent. But you saw the way his lashes fluttered, the way his eyes briefly closed when you twitched in his mouth. That tiny throb of your cock against his tongue? He felt it. And it made him shift in his seat.

He was getting hard.

You caught the way his thighs pressed together. How his hips squirmed, almost guilty, like maybe if he clenched up tight enough his dick wouldn't be leaking against the inside of his jeans right now.

You groaned, low and pleased, hips barely tilting forward. "That's it. Good, fuck..."

Rodrick didn't answer. Couldn't—not with his mouth full, and your fingers tugging lightly at his hair to keep him there. But his eyes flashed up at you, defiant and pink-cheeked, watery with effort. You were thick, and he still wasn't used to it. His jaw ached, his throat was trying to suppress a gag, and yet he didn't pull off again.

You gave a shallow thrust—just enough for him to feel your cock stiffen inside his mouth.

He shuddered.

Rodrick groaned, and the sound vibrated down your length. He didn't want to answer. But his mouth stayed open. He sucked back down, slower, deeper this time, spit dragging from his chin to your base.

He liked it.

He hated that he liked it.

And you could feel the tremble in his thighs when your cock bumped the back of his throat again—could see the way he rocked ever so subtly into his seat, chasing a little friction, desperate not to make a sound.

You noted it through hazy vision, furrowing your brows to make use of it. A little surprise never hurt anyone, right?

Your hips twitched once—just once, experimentally—up into the wet heat of his mouth. And that was all it took.

Rodrick flinched with a surprised grunt, the motion nudging him deeper, forcing him to adjust and—fuck—he didn't back off. He actually followed through, the shift in pressure making your thighs tense.

"Oh—fuck..." you groaned under your breath, fingers tightening in his hair, guiding him just enough, but letting him choose to keep going.

And he did. Mouth working messily and drooling now, rhythm shaky but there, flushed red from his ears down his throat, like sucking you off was getting him off too—and it was. His own hips kept shifting like he didn't know what to do with the ache in his jeans. Because he really didn't—the closest thing he's ever been to cumming untouched was a wet dream.

You caught it just between the messy fold of his clothes —the way his hand hovered near his waistband, unsure, then gave in.

Your hand clenched against the car seat. The air felt thinner, charged, like it was vibrating around you both.

And when it hit, it hit hard. Your breath shuddered out, spine arching just a little, and Rodrick jerked at the taste, the sudden strange texture filling his mouth, but didn't pull back. Didn't flinch. He stayed right there, like he didn't know what else to do except ride it out with your cock in his mouth.

A second later, he slumped forward with a stifled gasp, forehead thudding lightly against your thigh. His mouth still damp. His belt half undone. He was breathing like he'd just sprinted a mile, and the way he clung to your leg like it was anchoring him made your lips twitch into a slow, smug smile.

His face was pink. Embarrassed and glowing all at once.

You ran a hand through his sweaty bangs, barely brushing your knuckles over the back of his neck.

"Damn," you muttered, catching your breath. "You're wayyy too good at that for a guy who's not into dudes."

Rodrick groaned into your thigh, trying to burrow and hide his face. "Shut up."

You couldn't. Not when he looked so cute— his face was a warm, flushed colour and eyeliner that began to run after sucking your cock pricked a few tears at his eyes.

You noticed the stickiness against the loosened waist of his jeans, his hips twitching in tiny, involuntary aftershocks. A huff of laughter slipped out of you before you could stop it—mean, but kind of stunned, too.

He's still catching his breath like he's fighting off the shame. You take the bait, whistling slightly as you motion to the crotch of his jeans where he'd cum, "Didn't even have to touch you, damn. Liked it that much?"

Rodrick groaned loudly, dragging the sleeves of his discarded flannel over his face like he could disappear inside them. His whole face went about as red as the knobs on your car radio, and when he didn't snap back right away—not with a joke, not with a shove, not even a middle finger—you blinked.

He was mortified. It would be too easy to push him further, but you decide to let up this time.

Your teasing tapered instantly. "Hey," you said, voice gentler now. Your fingers skimmed along his shoulder, grounding. "Hey, I'm not—"

He didn't lift his head, "Oh, fuck off."

You shifted, letting your palm settle between his shoulder blades. "Look, I'm not gonna keep going if you're freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out," His voice was still muffled into your jeans, but more steady, holding more vigour now, "Just. Shut the fuck up."

You did, scoffing and half-relieved his bite came back. "...You think your parents'll care if you stay out a few more hours? Or are you some curfew princess."

His head tilted, just slightly. "What?"

"Just asking," you shrugged, voice casual, but your thumb brushed behind his ear, playing with the fake cuff on them.

Rodrick's still reeling from the mess he just made, but he lifts his head, blinking at you. His face is a mess of emotions—still a little red but some sort of gratitude that you aren't totally making fun of him at least.

"Yeah..." he mutters, still avoiding your gaze. "They're not home for a while."

You give him a wink, rubbing your thumb on his bottom lip now—feeling the stickiness of it from whatever of your cum he couldn't swallow. Or rather, coughed back up when trying to. "I'm staying my whole break here this time. If you're up for it."

Rodrick's eyes narrow in warning and disbelief. "You really are an asshole."

You shrug, still chewing your gum and leaning back in your seat. "I'm not heartless though."

He props himself up on his elbows, cogs turning in his head. Did you mean what he thought you meant?

 "What?" You look at him, mumbling for the first time since you've met him. "I got hobbies besides being college fuckboy-trash."

Rodrick stares at you, eyes narrowed like he's trying to figure out if you're screwing with him again—but there's a twitch at the corner of his mouth, betraying the smile he's fighting. He exhales a shaky laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah, well...your other hobbies better include food. I'm starving."

You reach for the keys from your back pocket, gum snapping between your teeth in a smile you pray he didn't catch. "Guess it's your lucky night, Heffley. Hope you like drive-thru food and post-nut clarity."

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

divider creds: @cursed-carmine

[npookie0]

can you do kc x a silly reader?? like one that is overall very unhinged and out of pocket and filled to the brim with the silly :3

Sure :3

Silly reader x KC

Tw. Very silly and goofy reader ><

Ever since you joined the server, you proved yourself to be quite the silly goof. In voice calls you would drop some unhinged lines or ideas.

"What if someone were to mix glitter in spilled blood? Like imagine a massacred head and glitter spilling from it with blood and brain." You said suddenly after Ronin dropped his usual cocky remark towards Angel.

At first there was silence, something you experienced many times, the killers have to register your words before they can answer.

Next thing you know, Misaki is bursting out, laughing and trying to catch their breath. "Oh fuck, you're so stupid MC." They almost choked while they were laughing.

"Your ideas are certainly... Something ." V said and sighed. "Hitmeup please drink some water." He said to Misaki who was still coughing.

"Woah darlin', the more things you say the more interesting your ideas become. Maybe I should test it out for you?" Ronin chuckled darkly. "Or maybe you could do that Angel? Glitter is your thing after all."

"Oh, fuck off Ronin." Angel sighed and you could swear that she rolled her eyes even if you didn't see her. "That's a very creative idea MC, can't wait to hear more." She chuckled warmly, her voice as sweet as ever.

Sometimes the server members just wake up to a spam of memes in the media channel from you just because you felt like it.

One time you even sent a stick man drawing of Ronin as JD from Heathers the Musical. Everyone, excluding Ronin, was cracking up at the drawing.

<@Angelic>: OMG I love you @MC please this is perfect

<@goreboy>: do you Want Me to use my Crowbar on Ya @MC? you too Angel.

<@MC>: Ronin, accept it. You're him and he's you.

Another time you decided to start the "hear me out cake" with the killers... Your answers were something.

"What do you mean by 'the letter A' dude?!" Luca asked after you sent a picture of said letter under the picture of a random cake.

"What do you mean? It gives off hot vibes, like a hot popular girl, tell me you get it Misaki." You replied and moved the question to Misaki.

"I have zero fucking idea, but hey it's still better than what you sent in the previous round."

"What do you mean? The lizard guy from Star Butterfly was HOT!" You exclaimed. "You bunch have no taste."

The killers couldn't say that their time with you wasn't interesting. You were unhinged and blunt. You never thought about your words, you just said whatever you wanted even in the most inappropriate moments.

<@MC>: Guys I think that kids should be locked up like animals in zoo and experienced on, if they want to act like wild beasts.

<@_LUCA_IS_COOL_>: What the hell dude? We were talking about our plans for the holidays.

<@h1tneuppp>: Shhh, this is about to get interesting.

Ronin:

Your silly nature was interesting for him. You sometimes dropped random traumatic experiences from your life, or just said something very unhinged.

Ronin can't complain about being bored with you around. If he's not persuading you into killing, you will drag him around the town or take him for random expeditions because you can't sit in one place for longer than five seconds.

Sometimes Ronin will just stand next to you in silence while you're doing something crazy, examples:

"MC, darlin', what the fuck are you doing?" Ronin asked, his eyes showed just how confused he was. Well, who wouldn't be confused if they saw their partner chasing after leafs in a park.

"I'm trying to catch the prettiest one." You replied like it was the most normal and obvious answer. Ronin just nodded. He was in awe about how little care you showed whenever someone gave you the side eye.

Ronin left you alone in his house for twenty minutes, apparently there was a very special asshole going around town and Ronin just had to deal with him. When he returned home he knew that you would do something crazy (at least in your way), but he would never imagine walking in on you while you were trying to dress up his rat BlackJack in a mini version of his clothes.

"Baby, would you mind telling me, why the hell is my rat dressed like me?" Ronin leaned on the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Huh?" You turned around to look at him, the rat curled up in your hands. "Well, you're like a rat, and BlackJack is a smol version of Ronin." You giggled with a sinister glimmer in your eyes. Ronin shook his head and approached you, he placed a kiss to your forehead and took the animal from your hands. "You're so fuckin' adorable sometimes."

Whenever you actually killed someone, you sent a picture to the #killer_shit channel, your murders were especially peculiar. The bodies were mostly untouched, expect the corpse having either an extremely bloody wound so you could draw a hello kitty head around the body or some silly doodles curved into them.

<@goreboy>: Woah baby, your art skills are getting better.

You smiled at Ronin's response and then scoffed when he sent a picture of his new kill with a satanic symbol curved into it.

<@goreboy>: Not as good as mine tho.

Headcanons >w<

- Ronin loves listening to your ramblings, even if you're talking about the most stupid stuff ever. He usually plays with your hair and looking through his phone while you just yap his ear off.

- Sometimes when you two decide to do some romantic homicide, you're the most silly killer Ronin has ever seen, you're literally gluing sequins around the curvings that Ronin leaves on the body, once you ever did a whole glamour make up look on a guy who according to Ronin abused his trans daughter.

- You doodle Ronin as JD and yourself as Veronica Sawyer, you even told him that you two will cosplay them for the next Halloween and if he dares to disagree, he will wake up with a sea of glitter in his bed.

- "You're like a more hygienic raccoon babe." Ronin said after he caught you looking for a late night snack around his kitchen in the clothes you stole from him.

- "Ronin, let's kidnap a snake from the zoo." You said, it was the middle of the night, you and Ronin were relaxing after some intimate time. Ronin looked at you and laughed. "Wow babe, you really pick the best times for these things." His laugh deep and long, arm over his face as he brushed his hair back. "I fuckin' love it about you."

V:

V was dumbfounded by every single unhinged idea you shared with him. He didn't know if having any expectations had a point anymore. Whenever he thought that your ideas couldn't get even more unique, you came up with an even more creative ideas.

"V." You called as you ran towards him and ran in circles around him. You almost tripped, but V managed to catch you. He sighed and helped you stand.

"My love, please be more careful. He pinched his nose bridge for which you only giggled.

"Aw, it's fine V! You'll always catch me. Anyway-" And for the next ten minutes you were rambling about a new idea, V couldn't even follow your voice. He was just too amazed by how many things your mind could think of at once.

Even if he couldn't wrap his mind around your way of thinking, V was happy knowing that your soul was pure, you wouldn't kill people ruthlessly, you didn't even think about that. But sometimes he tends to question your innocence, whenever he tells you about a new bastard he has to eliminate, you turn around with a wide smile and in the sweetest voice known to man you were giving him an idea of how he should get rid of that pest.

"My love, your ideas are positively terrifying. Maybe i should try it out for you on that rotten beast." He placed a kiss to your knuckles with a proud smile and a warm look in his eyes.

Headcanons X3

- V enjoys it when you're playing with his hair, putting it up or just twisting it around your fingers, while you're just talking about the silly ideas.

- "V, let's go and buy some cute outfits for your animals." You said while you were watching the bird V named after you. "Love, I want to remind you that most of my animals are dangerous and feed on humans." He replied with a slight hint of a smile. "But they also deserve something cute to wear." You exclaimed, it earned you a chuckle from him and a kiss on the lips. "Fine, fine. We can try finding something cute for them."

- V has to carry the first aid kit with himself whenever the two of you are outside. You have a tendency to run around carelessly, climb treat when you see something stuck on one. Most of these adventures end up with a scraped knee or a small injury that V has to clean up. "Please, be more careful." He says, knowing that you will do the same thing again.

- Sometimes when V wakes up and goes to the bathroom to get ready for the day, he sees how his hair magically happened to have a lot of colorful and cute hair-clips in them. And you just so happen to be right next to the bathroom door and trying your hardest to hold back the giggle. For V that start of a day is just perfect, with his partner in a good mood and right next to him.

Misaki:

Misaki fucks with your silly and unhinged nature. They adore it, and the way your eyes light up when you see jut how invested she is.

You take their hand and drag them around Tokio, you're totally lost and she just chooses to let you try and find your way. When you give up with a big sad pout on your face, they kiss you and take you for a piggyback.

"Don't worry pookie bear, I know my way around town." They say with a confident smirk and you just chuckle.

"Wow, you're my hero Misaki."

When Misaki spams your DMs with how panicked they are about the next assassination, you will send your selfie with you pointing on your lips.

<@MC>: Is this motivating enough?

<@h1tmeupp>: Babe omw to be done with this shit and kiss that stupidly sweet lips of yours.

<@MC>: Waiting ;p

Misaki loves it when you're stealing their clothes and return them with a small new added mark - a painted flower here, a sewed in patch of an anime character that you like there. They will wear that piece of clothing like it's something given by gods and will make sure to brag about you to the server and their parents.

Headcanons >:D

- You will call Misaki in the middle of the night because you just came up with a new theory about your favourite media and she just ha to listen to your yap session.

- Your nicknames for Misaki are just chef's kiss, some of their favourites: Cutie patootie, lil sniper mask, alpha sigma, babyperson.

- When Misaki doesn't reply because they're asleep or buy you will flood their dms with memes or sad cat pictures,

- You will join in on Misaki's weak tries to rizz up V, you know that it's a joke and you find it extremely funny.

- When you're about to return to your country from visiting Misaki, you will steal their clothes and find a perfume matching their scent, and she will take your clothes and your perfume.

Angel:

Angel is fascinated by you, and your ways of making fun of Ronin but still not sounding like a total asshole. You will always make sure to keep your remarks lighthearted and keep the relationship between you and Angel's ex boyfriend and currently closest friend chill.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Angel asks, you were standing in front of her and applying some make up on her.

"Nooo, I'm not done yet." You reply and move the lipstick on her lips. "Ta! Dah!" You said and held the mirror in front of her face. Angel opened her eyes and gasped, then she laughed and looked at you with a loving warmth in her gaze.

"You wanted to make me look like Jennifer?" She asked.

"Yeah! You called her hot, and I wanted to check if my skills are as good as think they are." You say with a proud smirk. Angel stands up and kissed you.

"I love it, but we do need to work on your skills cariño."

When Angel found a new manager, you and Ronin were ready to throw hands. Well you took action in your own hands and left them a small note in their bag "Hurt Maria and I will break your spine." It would be very threatening. if you didn't use a colorful pencil with glitter in it.

Headcanons <3

- Angel enjoys laying in bed with you, snuggled up to you as you discuss her new video or some of your interests. She feels so close to you, these moments are perfect.

- Whenever Angel has a taught day at work you will go and basically kidnap her, you carry her bridal style to the nearest cafe and keep her away from watching her phone. Sometimes she may seem irritated with it, but you will kiss her or hold her close and this irritation disappears.

- One day Angel found her pink gun in the living room with some doodles and sweet messages all over it. You came into the room and snatched the gun from her.

"I'm not done yet." You exclaimed and hid the gun behind your back.

"Awh, but I want to see it." She gave you a pout and you just gave in.

- For Halloween you dressed up as Ronin and gave Angel a full of one-person-show imitation of him. Angel can't hold back her laughter and holds her aching stomach.

"Oh, I love you." She wiped a tear away from her eye. "You're so amazing love."

[danasevans]

wait ok im still thinking abt wilde west au. How do all the characters fit into the town??

tysm for asking bc i have THOUGHTS. this will be a hopefully brief crash course, some of them are more fleshed out than others but...

Robby: traveling doc who comes to help out a small town and gets more than he bargains for

Dana: owner and manager of the saloon, one of the pillars of the town. does most of the town's medical stuff by default, a lot of patching up day-to-day injuries and plenty of midwifery too. can treat a concussion with an ice pack and a shot of whiskey bc it's like 1938 who cares

Jack: the only doctor who lives in the town. came back shell shocked from ww1 with an amputation to deal with, too. keeps to himself, has a lot of bad habits thanks to Everything about having PTSD in the 1930s. Robby brings him out of his shell by being a stubborn asshole about it

Heather: town sherriff as she DESERVES. not super sure about Robby at first which leads to some very fun tension. immediately thinks he's hot which unfortunately for Robby makes her even more initially hostile

Frank: owns and operates the local general store. went to college, has a business degree, used to be insufferable about it but more chill now. he's a great husband and slightly overwhelmed dad

bonus - Abby: has to handle a lot of upkeep of the general store while also raising five children. will have a very important arc pretty early in the story because five kids is more than enough, thank you, and she and Dana show Robby that sometimes the less official, more under-the-radar medicine is what the patient needs

McKay: one of Myrna's working girls. first came to town when Harrison was a baby, running from the law after shit went down with her ex. hates men when she's off the clock. fast friends with Dana bc Dana is a girl's girl!!!!

putting the rest under a cut bc this post is getting long rip

Mohan: she's a farmhand but she bounces around between farms. she helps plan fields and markets and everything. when she first came to town people were skeptical but in the Dust Bowl economy someone as bright as her to help with the penny pinching is invaluable

Mel: works at Langdon's store in exchange for room and board. she and Becca live in a small attic apartment but they're close with Frank and Abby and are often invited down for meals. Abby appreciates having Mel for extra hands and Mel appreciates not being the only one there to watch after Becca

Santos: Trinity is the reason Dana and Myrna have beef. she came to Myrna's when she was WAY too young to be doing all that, and she already had plenty of trauma from the path that led her there. naturally Dana just fucking adopted her. Fourth Evans daughter. it takes Robby an insanely long time to learn Trinity is not, in fact, biologically related to Dana (she also works at the Saloon now, one of the few people Abbot tolerates)

Whitaker: his family owns a cattle ranch so that takes up a lot of his life. but he's kind and he's smart and he's gentle so he helps out Dana and Jack with some of the harder injuries-- he has a knack for setting bones or tying slings. when Robby comes to town he struggles between wanting to pursue medicine more or staying loyal to his family when they need him

Javadi: her father is the pastor, and her mother is very influential in town. she's fascinated by some of the crazier things going on but doesn't want to get into trouble. she gets super curious about the medicine and Robby and Abbot's whole Vibe when they show up. Eileen is exploding Robby in her mind bc of this

Perlah & Princess: work with Dana at the saloon. responsible for keeping the town gossip mill flowing-- a crucial job!!

Mateo: farmhand who's friends with everybody. I'll probably let him and Javadi get together bc I'm a sucker for sweet romance

I intend for most of the side characters to make appearances too but this is what i have so far!! came up with a lot of this while writing this post lol. thank you for asking bc i am Insane over this au

[kinghijinx22]

Why Silent Hill 3 is my big favorite- a terrifying horror game about woman's experiences and the fears that come from existing as a woman in a patriarchal society

Silent Hill 3 is probably my favorite Silent Hill game and one of my favorite games of all time, and it has a story and themes that I've always really vibed with. It tells a remarkably progressive story for it's time that handles some intense themes that are still relevant even today, about experiences that a lot of woman go through and the fears that come from existing as a woman in a patriarchal society, what it's like having your own agency and bodily autonomy taken away from you, forced pregnancy and sexual assault, how harmful patriarchal societies are and this game really getting into the religious flavor of patriarchy in particular.

It's an incredibly scary game that uses a feminine sort of horror to great effect, with the design of the other world being as bloody as it is and the monster designs being representative of this. I mean there is a type of creature that are literally supposed to look like fetuses that start getting bigger throughout the game as the birth of God draws near and the giant worm boss for lack of a better way of putting, literally being a giant penis. I think the main complaint that I hear from people about this game is how slow the story is in the first half of the game, but I think the whole getting home late at night as a young woman contributes a lot to what this game is saying. And I absolutely love how this game ends with Heather literally aborting God and fighting it as the final boss, symbolizing her fully taking control of her life and rejecting all of the harmful expectations that were forced onto her. Main antagonist Claudia is such a tragic character though, someone who was so brainwashed by town's religion into think that someone HAS to give birth to God so hard that she did it herself and she suffered for it.

Also while not as intentional considering when it was written and they probably couldn't even write about this stuff if they wanted to, something that I think is worth noting is that I've heard from a lot of trans people who relate to this game as well and I can really see it. Considering it's about people who Heather knows from a past life, coming back to remind her of that past life and forcing it onto her, and Claudia referring to Heather as Alessa could be interpreted as deadnaming Heather. But yeah I've always really loved and connected with this game for how well it handles it's themes about woman's experiences and I think it's really cool how many trans people have been able to relate to it with those specific experiences as well.

Another of my favorite things about Silent Hill 3 is the main character Heather, because she really is one of the coolest characters that I've always really related to. Her struggles are incredibly relatable, but she's also inspiring in how she overcomes them and is always so confident. In fact I appreciate how her and her father subvert societal gender roles in opposite directions, with Heather being as confident and extroverted as she is, probably more then any other Silent Hill protagonist and willing to stand up to all of the men in the story like Douglas in the beginning, Vincent and Leonard, along with all of the monsters she has to fight. And Harry being a single parent who is as gentle and caring as he is, with his one track mind of looking as his daughter, he's kind of both a father and a mother in that way, and also being as physically weak as he is and the opposite of a action hero. She also easily has the most personality of any Silent Hill protagonist, like this girl is overflowing with charisma and is even a little jokey. In fact another detail that I like is how much personality comes through in her examine dialogue, where you actually get to hear her thoughts on everything instead of just basic observation "this is a thing" that the other games in the series do. Heather has opinions on everything, but how she's feeling throughout the game is also conveyed. The dialogue of her observations in the first half of the game has a much more playful and hopeful tone to it, but after Harry dies she becomes much more pessimistic, can only see the negatives in everything and just doesn't seem to care anymore.

Heather is an incredibly well written and nuanced character, and I'll be honest that this is the game I least want to see be remade because I know that they would find a way to fuck up the writing of her character and handling of the themes of this game. Even after the Silent Hill 2 remake being as good as it is, one of Blooperteams biggest flaws is being incapable of handling anything to do with woman's experiences or perspective. SH2 used to be my fav, but I came to realize that it was mostly just because it was the popular one and that I vibe a lot more with SH3 and 4. Especially because SH2 tells a story about misogyny but makes it all about the perpetrator rather then the victim, unlike Silent Hill 3 which does actually tell the story of someone on the receiving end of that type of violence and objectification. SH3 and 4 are my personal favorites, 3 because Heather is best protagonist and I really appreciate it's themes which are handled perfectly, and SH4 because it has a really cool narrative and horror concepts. I know opinions on SH4 are really split, and while I think there are some gameplay things that are jank, I love it's story and premise so much.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 145 (A Promotion and The Updated Salty Paw!)

Newlywed life for Heather and Conrad was just as blissful as life before their marriage - with an added dose of steam from Heather's pregnancy libido! Despite this, she made sure to get plenty of rest throughout her first trimester, as the family settled into life preparing for baby number three.

Conrad's work solving the murder of the Brindletons and putting Ximena behind bars had impressed the chief, and she called him into her office one afternoon at the precinct.

"I just got a call from San Myshuno, lieutenant. Ximena's trial just finished, and the judge handed her a forty-year sentence. I know how difficult this case was, and how personal, but you never let the department down."

"I just want to keep everyone safe," he said humbly.

"I saw the verified documents from the Brindletons' safe deposit box. If I didn't know you were just that kind of guy, I'd assume it really was fate you showed up in your ancestors' town to serve and protect when we needed you most."

"I'm not a hero, chief."

She laughed. "No, not a hero, but we need a strong captain like you to keep this place going. It'll mean more time talking to the press. I know you don't love being front and centre, but if you handle most reporters like you do Malcolm Landgraab and Simlandia National, you'll do great. Do you think you're ready to take on the responsibility, captain?"

Conrad nodded. "Of course, chief. I'd be honoured."

Captain Conrad Gordon met his wife at home that night to announce his promotion, and they headed down to Fisherman's Wharf for dinner with Suri and Hazel at the slightly-improved Salty Paw.

The rebrand so far involved slightly changing up the interior, adding an espresso bar at the take-out window, and fixing up the upstairs apartment.

"It's really not much, but I want to slowly change more over time," explained Suri. She didn't want the place to seem unrecognizable to locals until The Salty Paw (she'd officially dropped the 'Saloon') built up its own loyal patrons.

Heather and Conrad viewed the updated interior with a smile, content their investment had gone to good use. "It's eclectic right now, with some old and some new. We might not keep the updates and eventually just go all out to redecorate, but we want to keep the dockside vibe and we have to make sure the place is profitable first," explained Suri. "And the whole reason I fell in love with the Salty Paw is the takeaway window and open air kitchen, which I never want to lose. It's always busy when I'm brewing at the espresso bar!"

After dinner, they left the bartender to manage the floor, taking Hazel's family upstairs to check out the studio apartment. They hung out, chatting about little things and enjoying each other's company, until Lavender mentioned the thing she wasn't supposed to talk about.

"We can watch Dating Deanna on the TV!" She looked at her parents expectantly as the room grew quiet. Lavender cocked her head in confusion. "What I said?"

"You guys are watching that? Aren't dating shows not really for four-year-olds?"

Heather shrugged. "She barely knows what's going on and thinks the girls are pretty. She doesn't even remember Nicola at this point, but she knows Conrad and I filmed a bit with Shelley's Animal Haven for a future episode, and she's excited about it."

"What does it matter if people watch the show?" Suri asked. "My grandmother said everyone in Henford's tuning in to see how well Ms. Moody-McMillan represents their town."

"She did okay," said Ash, matter-of-factly, without realizing Hazel maybe didn't want to know. "She's not outgoing like some of the other girls, but Deanna has a crush on her!"

Hazel sighed. "I'm sorry, I really don't care that it's on, but sometimes I wish the show had cast someone else's ex-wife," she said. "I know that's my problem, not hers. I'm happy for Nic, and I hope she falls in love. Really!"

Lavender looked between the grownups while her mother added an adblocker to Hazel and Suri's computer.

(It'd be nice if sims just hopped on computers when visiting other sims' homes a lot less!)

"Are we gunna watch them fall in love or just talk about it?" ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

WCIF: Heather and Gord are asleep on the sofa with @simmerberlin's Large Dog poses, and I love this one so much!

NOTE: Curse Lovestruck's relationship system! Heather being pregnant and horny made their wholesome dynamic flip to steamy and I accepted it, but that was such a mistake! They became very unsatisfied very quickly because that's not their usual vibe, and their relationship was red, not pink, in actual seconds. I couldn't do anything to fix it and honestly gave up trying very quickly! I hated it so much I cheated them back to wholesome and now they're both very satisfied again, but there was no reason for that about face, it's not canon, and I didn't have time to bring it back to normal without a cheat. No regrets whatsoever.

NOTE 2: Above is the new upstairs floorplan, and the screenshot below gives a basic idea of the change in layout to the second floor. I'm using @littlemssam's Live-In Business mod to designate their private apartment, which they can invite friends and family into but patrons stay out. The mod may become obsolete after the next expansion, but I'm holding off on getting the next pack right away for fear it could be glitchy, so I'll keep using the mod it until it breaks, probably.

Due to lack of space they don't have their own bathroom, and you might notice they currently have no shower. I will fix this, but for now I never play their household long enough for their hygiene to drop too low. And the espresso bar is placed with moveobjects on because I need that takeaway window. It's the heart of the whole lot!

As for the restaurant interior on the main floor, I don't adore it but it's a big space I have little patience to work in. So if anyone likes designing restaurant lots in this game and wants to be Suri and Hazel's interior designer, hit me up lol! I'm really not kidding.

[dramaticallytotal]

TDWT Headcanons Pt. 5

Part 1 Last Part

• Heather, Leshawna, Eva, and Sierra were Bratz girlies.

• Courtney, Gwen, and Bridgette were Barbie girlies.

• Lindsay and Izzy were all. Bratz, Barbie, Polly Pocket, My Scene. You name it. While Lindsay was in it for the fashion, Izzy liked to put Barbie dolls on ceiling fans star-fished and turn in on and try not to get hit. Also, for makeovers. Izzy also chewed the rubber Polly Pocket clothes.

• Gwen was also a Living Dead Dolls girlie.

• Eva, for some odd reason, gives me cabbage patch vibes.

• Courtney is also very American Girl Doll coded. But also Eva, in the sense she always wanted one.

• I don't know why but I felt the need to make those headcanons even though they have nothing to do with WT XD

• Chris found out Noah can actually sing because his sister Noelle messaged him from their mom's phone since Chris is...ugh...friends with his parents. Noelle got mad that Noah wasn't actually singing even though she knew he could. So she ratted him out to Chris and even shared a video from when they were younger, and Noelle had him perform Phantom of the Opera with her in their living room. She was Erik, he was Christine.

• So Chris tells him he has to sing a song all by himself in New York because Broadway is there, and he was inspired by the video. Noah is so pissed! He knew Noelle was actually mad at him for eating the last of the Rava Ladoo before he left! But she said it was fine! He makes it a point to tell her this during a confessional. He may also be planning to hack into her accounts and post one of the embarrassing videos he had of her.

• Then Noah got an idea. This show is supposed to be family-friendly. If he sang a not so family friendly song, then it would have to be cut! Thankfully, Chris told him he could pick a song to sing, so he quickly told the band what song and hoped they knew it. They did and were all trying very hard not to laugh as they could already imagine Chris's reaction. Then Noah grabbed an intern around his age that he knew named Tristan, who sang and sang well.

• Please imagine Noah singing Sugar Daddy from Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Going all out and everyone is just STUNNED. Alejandro is so flustered, but he can't look away. Izzy, Eva, and Owen are rocking out and cheering for Noah. We love supportive best friends UwU

• Trent and Cody have stars in their eyes and are already trying to come up with arguments of why Noah should join their emo band. I mean boy band.

• Chris is impressed and pissed because he definitely has to cut the song, but it's okay. He's just going to make sure Noah actually sings from here on out.

• Alejandro definitely did not lie awake at night thinking about Noah's performance. Nope!

• When Lindsay is annoyed with someone, she purposefully calls them by the wrong name. She does that already because it's part of her character, but when she's annoyed? She takes it up a notch.

• Yes, Lindsay isn't the smartest person, but come on, she's not that dumb! She's on a gymnastics team and a really good one at that. In order to stay on the team, she has to have decent grades. But she knew that people love a dumb blonde, and she's all for playing the part.

• Tyler may be clumsy, but the dude is actually really strong. We've seen he has an uncanny strength in his fingertips, but also he was able to pull his sled with his team plus random crates. He's actually won a pull-up competition without really trying.

• Heather can do anything in heels. When she was younger, she idolized Michelle Pfieffer's Cat Woman. She saw the way the woman did everything in heels and was just like, "that's gonna be me." And she did it.

• Bridgette is totally a tarot card girlie. I mean, we know she likes crystals from her biography, so I can totally see her being a tarot card reader. Coincidentally, Gwen was a rock/ gem kid, so they tend to talk about rocks/gems and what they mean and it's just a nice break from the competition for the both of them.

• Cody and Noah aren't actually mad about the whole awake-a-thon kiss thing anymore and tend to make jokes about it because they figured if they didn't, others would and they would be pretty cruel about it. So what better way to skip that treatment than to show it doesn't bother them?

• They tend to call each other stupid pet names, but they stopped that because of Sierra. But Cody is still pretty protective of Noah and also considers himself his wingman.

• Alejandro is definitely not glad they stopped because he definitely wasn't jealous.

• DJ and Leshawna tend to jam out together from her playlist since both have a love of music. DJ used to play the trumpet in school for a bit, and Leshawna can actually play the drums pretty well.

• Leshawna sees Tyler as a little brother of sorts. He reminds her of a kid she met when she volunteered at the community center at home, and the poor dude is so clumsy she can't help but try and take him under her wing. Plus, she likes his determination.

• Harold, Noah, Trent, and Tyler were all Scouts. Noah only made it to being a Beaver Scout, not because he couldn't handle the training because he could and got bored! Trent and Tyler made it to be Cub Scouts, but Trent stopped because he got more into music while Tyler was asked to leave because of how many times he got injured.

• Harold made Venturer but then auditioned for Total Drama. He is hoping to get back to it and make Rover!

• Trent has a habit of sneaking Gwen treats from first class if his team wins. She finds it absolutely adorable and makes sure not to tell her team, but she always sneaks him thank you notes.

• When they aren't competing, the kids tend to make their own small competitions like who can do the most push up, who can hold a note the longest, who can steal something from Chris's room without him noticing. Or who can add something to his room and how long it takes for him to notice.

• Also, they bet so much, oh my god. There's a pot where they bet snacks, whatever cash they brought, favors, and secretly votes.

Next Part

[kwamiwayzz]

Jeckole Fic Rec List Part II

(Art by emilu-enjuagas on Twitter)

I'm doing another one of these, but more for newer-ish fics. The more well-known ones are the most Kudos'ed fics you'll see on AO3 (for good reason), but I thought I'd give some love on some fics that probably aren't getting as much attention since the fandom isn't as active as it was last year.

Similar to the last rec list that I had, I'll mostly be sharing my thoughts that may or may not talk about the plot for each fic.

Candied Consideration by Kayleen756894 - This is by the same author who wrote Inscriptions (aka one of my favorite Jeckole fics), and while I haven't read it yet, I can always trust this author to deliver. It's a crossover fic, which may not be everyone's cup of tea--but, it's a crossover fic with Heathers (that one musical I haven't seen). I know nothing about Heathers, but based on some of the things I've been hearing about this fic, it's that one crossover that a lot of people didn't expect they needed. Both source material are pretty similar in terms of vibes which makes it fit pretty well for someone who's primarily a Class of '09 fic reader. I have yet to read this, but it's Kayleen, so...I'm sat.

Even When It's Quiet by mlpvsbojackhorseman - I didn't get a chance to read the old version when it was still running, but the author ended up revamping it and is currently on Chapter 2 with a darker tone. As someone who loves hurt/comfort Jeckole (especially fics that touch more on the darker aspect of mental health), this was that type of fic I was looking for to scratch that itch. I want to note that the tags include Dead Dove, but the author mentioned it's more for exploring really taboo subjects as Jecka and Nicole's relationship progresses.

God, I'm Very, Very Frightened I'll Overdo It by Fox_Is_Fandumb - I believe this fic has been around while the fandom was much more active, but it recently updated earlier this month and thought to put it on this list. I don't care if people say it's OOC for Nicole and Jecka because I'm vanilla and like seeing them happy. But what makes this not as "OOC" for me personally is that their core personality traits are still retained in some way despite being more mellowed out. It's meant to be a collection of oneshots during their (Jecka's) college years, most of which are pretty fluffy. If you're looking for some light-hearted fluff between the two that takes place after high school, you should give this a read.

Wanweird by AbsurdofOurs - I didn't think I'd find another fic that gave me the same feeling as Progman's Jeckole, but this was definitely the one. Nicole is peak loser in this one, and I love it. She's living in Emily's car and sells vapes to kids on the playground, all while still thinking about her situationship with Jecka back in high school. I say that this gives me the same feeling as Progman's Jeckole since their dynamic is largely inspired by Codepedent Philosopher's Guide to Staying Alive. And honestly, I eat that kind of codependent dynamic up so good. I love the interactions between Nicole and Jecka, and there were some scenes where I found myself laughing because of the comedic timing. I love the way that this author writes Jecka and Nicole's dialogue, and if you're looking for a specific codependent flavor of Jeckole, this is the fic for you.

Reflection by Kayleen756894 - Another Kayleen fic, but this time, it's a Halloween special. I read this when it came out and the pining on Nicole's end made me think I was witnessing her in a glass closet. Nicole is a vampire in this one, surprise, surprise, but she also craves Jecka's blood--the same friend who may or may not let her have a hit when she gets hungry. The part I love the most about this fic (aside from the prose) is the banter between the two. It was definitely needed after everyone's disappointment from the third game lol. If you're looking for a fluff(?) Halloween-themed fic, this is for you.

sweetgirl by jackdotcom - This was a really sweet fic I read (while I was bedridden from my Illness Part II) that takes place around Christmas. It's broken up into three chapters (though can easily be read in one go), and it has Nicole and Jecka having a shitty time but decide to spend the Christmas day together pretending that it's not Christmas.

Last Night in Town by bunmoder - I actually read this last night, and I believe they're a newer writer that came in, but I loved the way they wrote the overall mood of this fic. It's a more bittersweet Jeckole fic, but it's also very fluffy during the quiet moments.

I Was Never Complete Without You by MentalCrit09 - Also another post-Flipside fic, but for those people who hated the FYE Roadtrip route. It focuses more on Jecka's recovery back into normlacy after being rescued from that distasteful ending. It's not super angsty and has enough balance between the heavy subjects of what Jecka went through as well as the general fluff after reuniting with Nicole. For anyone who really wanted a fix-it fic/happy ending fic from arguably one of the worst endings from Flip Side, this fic is for you.

Laughter of a Faded Star by Progman - This actually isn't an old fic, and also a bit of a strange one. However, after my hesitation from reading a very AU-divergent fic, I thought this deserved to be on here. I've mentioned before that I tend to lean more towards Jeckole fics where they're adults, so that's most likely why this is here. I do want to mention that it feels very divorced from the original source material, but Progman explains it enough in both the writing and their author's notes to why Nicole and Jecka are the way they are here. Nicole isn't super fucked up here since her dad never shot himself, but because of that, she and Jecka never met in high school. This is more of an AU where they meet as adults, where Nicole is a part-time comedian while Jecka is a therapist/psychologist. It might not be up everyone's alley, but I enjoyed reading it and seeing how their meeting played out as their alternate selves.

And that's it, for now at least. I really wanted to try and focus more on newer/recently updated fics (post-Flipside) despite throwing in some older ones. It's not a very long list, but hopefully I can create a Jeckole masterlist one day (including Explicit works) that has fics stretching back from post-Re-Up.

I'll probably have a general Class of '09 rec list at some point because while I'm mostly a Jeckole monoshipper, there have been some fics for other pairings that I thought were well-written. But we'll see when I'm not too lazy to make that one lol.

[fanon-elio]

Hi, thank you for answering my question.

As for begin late it's completely alright, we all humans and we have things to do with IRL stuff so you have nothing to be worried about, take as much time as you need and please don't push yourself 🫶

As for my request i want to request platonic HC or one-shot (choose which do you want) about Lycaon and teenage daughter reader (wolf therin like her dad).

Plot: the father and daughter are having a personality like "Ozzy & heather" from the movie "Over the headge" where Lycaon is doing things and take his job as an attendant pretty seriously and Reader is SO DONE with him. They're the comical duo in the Victorian housekeeping 🤭

It's like the "camellia golden week" where Lycaon felt embarrassed about missing one word when he tried to lip-reading 🤭 if reader was there she would be like "seriously dad? It's just one word, come on don't be dramatic!!"

But deep down she loves her silly dad and admire him.

Am so sorry for the long request, and if you feel you can't or don't want to write it then it's completely okay, have a great day!✨

Thank you so much for your understanding!

I did combine a bit of headcanons, and a bit of one shot. I hope I did your vision justice.

•°○Headcanons about Lycaon with his Daughter reader○°•

Tag: Green Letter (Sfw)

First and foremost. You and him literally look so alike, it's almost uncanny. People look at you two and instantly know "oh yeah. These two are related." Everything from the fluffy ears and tail, down to the Black highlights. You look like a miniature version of him.

Both of your daily schedule is perfectly planned. Both of you drag yourselfs out of bed get up in the morning, eat breakfast, brush your teeth, and get ready to go to school/work.

Also the way both of you boop noses as a way to say goodbye is just so.. *repeadetly slamms hand on desk in delight*

Lycaon strikes me as a strict, but loving father. He is very patient with you, and would only raise his voice at you if you really fucked up. Less out of Anger or dissapointment, and more out of concern for you. And yet he'd make sure to always tell you that he loved you regardless because he doesn't want neither of you to go to bed with negative vibes.

Even though he does expect certain standards from you, he also knows not to 'clip a flower before it can bloom.' He gives you the room you need to find yourself, instead of smothering you with his expectations.

He's 100% the type of dad who'll sit you down after finding out about a bad grade, and ask you if something was wrong, if something is bothering you, or if you need help with anything.

So he helps you study for exams, and you help him out with the business over summer break, and only over summer break. It's something he never understood about Ellen and Corin, as to why both of them would choose to work in their leisure time despite already having to juggle school.

Speaking of Victoria housekeeping. You definetly get along with all of his Coworkers. You and Ellen are besties, all the while you take on some sort of big sister role for Corin. Rina and You are menaces and no one can convince me otherwise. "Everyone, please be on your best behaviour" Your dad says, mainly looking at You, Ellen and Rina.

You are definetly not as organized as your dad, let's get that right. You're the silly one who lightens the mood and cracks jokes. But remembering which fork is for what, and what cuttlery goes where? Those are facts that your long term memory chooses to reject no matter how many times your father reminds you "y/n, how many times have I told you-" yaddah yaddah.

Despite that you still very much look up to your dad, you think he's cool and a badass! Even though he can be awfully corny, and a total overthinker sometimes. Especially when he thinks that he had once again embarassed himself in some way.

Lycaon takes a sip from his tea, a frown on his face that is clear for everyone to see. "What's happened to you?" You ask him, and he exhales a short sigh "earlier I've embarassed myself while I was on a meeting with Master Proxy about Hollow C41" he tells you, and you questioningly raised your eyebrows

"So I've decieded to take Lip reading classes every two weeks from now on" he tells you, which made you choke on your tea "Dad, there is no need to do all that" you say through caughs.

He putts his cup down, a questioning look on his face "you think so?" He asks, and you give him a thumbs up in agreement "Lip reading classes seem... awfully out there you know?" He nodds

"however, I feel like Sign language courses would be much more beneficial don't you agree?"

Just like your father, your own fur is also always perfectly groomed. Grooming eachother is something normal yet intimate for thirens, it is reserved exclusively for family. A lot of the times you help eachother to keep eachothers fur spotless.

The bristles of the brush in Lycaon's hand carefully run through the fur of your tail.

You yourself were enjoying the sensation when a chuckle caught your attention "Oh father dearest, won't you share with your daughter what's so funny?" You ask, Lycaon playfully rolled his eyes "certainly, shakespear.

I just thought how funny it is how much you enjoy me brushing you even though you dreaded it when you were younger" he says, a small giggle coming from you "hmmm sorry, I don't recall that" you tell him "the bite marks on my hand sure do" he retords "oh come on, that was cobbing!" You defend, making him chuckle again "last time I checked, cobbing doesn't draw blood."

A small silence settles between you two, as you cross your arms in front of your chest, and sigh "fine, point taken."

Lycaon has a few rules that are never to be broken. You jokingly call them his 'Ten commandments.' From the run of the mill stuff like: No Alcohol, Drugs, gambling or skipping school, other rules include:

Always staying in contact with him

Under no circumstances going in hollows!

Asking before taking his car (only if you have a license ofc)

Carrying pepper spray when going outside

Not getting in a car with strangers

And last but not least: Stay away from boys (added note with: "I'm serious Y/n" behind it)

Lycaon tries not to be a helicopter parent, but you are his little girl, and nothing will ever change that. It's very well described with: "I'm not your little girl anymore, look at me, I'm practically an Adult" while all he sees is you as a small child still carrying your stuffed animals around with you wherever you went.

Sometimes he fears you'll feel ashamed for him, with him being an amputee and all. But you always make sure to reassure him about his insecurities, telling him he's the best dad ever, and it never fails to ease his nerves.

Lycaon doesn't force you to do anything you don't like. He has no issue if you don't want to take over the family business, he wants you to find something that you can pour your heart and soul into. However, the only thing he did force you to take were self defense classes.

In reality he dreads the idea of his past catching up with him, with you ending up in the crossfire. It's what robbs him of his sleep sometimes. But rest assured your dad will 1000% commit murder for you if he has to.

Other things both of you have in common include:

1. Both of you hate the dentist, and syringes. (No seriously, ya'll hate them.)

2. Both of you drink your tea the exact same way.

3. Both of you like the same snacks, so it's always a fight to get some before the other.

4. You watch your netflix series with him, and funnily enough, he get's very invested in them.

Both of you made the mistake of watching Riverdale once, and it turned into a running gag amongst you.

Whenever one of you had a weird day you'd say "Today was a Riverdale kinda day."

Over all: Lycaon is definetly a great dad, and would set heaven and hell into motion for you.

•°○°•°○°Bonus•°○°•°○°•

You nervously tap your foot on the ground, your ears flicked as the surrounding silence was only broken by the tooting sound of your phone.

"Come on. Pick up, pick up, pick up" you say quietly, and glance at your watch. "Yes? Y/n?" The voice of your father came from the phone, and your ears perked up

"Heeeeey! I love you soooo much, can I have 2500 dennies?" You ask quietly, Lycaon falling silent on the other side of the line "what..? No. What do you need 2500 dennies for?" He asked clearly confused "oh you know, for an escape room?" You tell him, the line once again growing silent, and for a moment you feared he had hung up on you.

"You're joking right? What kind of escape room costs 2500 dennies?" He asked, and you press your ears flat to your head "uhm.... jail...." you speak, you swallowed thickly while you felt you heart drumming in your chest.

"Dad?" You ask, trying to get an answer from him "daddy? Papa?" But the only respons you get is a loud sigh "I'll be there in 10, dumbass" he replies before hanging up.

°•°○°•°○°•°○°•°○°•°○°•°○°•°

I hope you enjoyed!

I once again want to thank you all for your patience, I have to work a lot of overtime currently.

But soon enough I'll be able to upload in a timely manner again.

-Elio

[morbsxadorbs]

those who know me know I regularly subject my Zemo 20cm doll to all kinds of dress up — after the brilliance that was The Franchise, I couldn’t help but track down/upcycle a few pieces to let him be yet another Daniel Brühl character:

The Cheese Man of Düsseldorf!

more under the cut to save people’s dashes

Eric Bouchard, directing genius — minus beard. (I thought about trying to make one out of felt, since I didn’t want to apply anything makeup-y directly to the cotton, but finally just decided he’d be clean-shaven. Possibly after another breakdown, who’s to say.)

…but plus beloved Indoor Scarf, obviously!

that is the hem of a t-shirt I originally cut apart to make the logo into a back patch for a vest — I cut another scarf also in heather grey, to look more like the marbled one he has in the show, but finally decided the black looked better.

I also made sure to put together his location shoot outfit!

(stress hiccups not included.)

the hat unfortunately is not stuck on his head has no drawstring, but I think it works nonetheless. lucky for me, Eric had kind of a monochrome capsule wardrobe vibe, so it was easy to take some basics I already had and assemble them.

anyway! it’s not much, just something little and fun I did with my spare time. if you’re a db fan and you haven’t got to watch the show yet, I highly recommend finding it somewhere — he’s a gem, and gets to show off his comedy chops even more than usual!!

I’m bummed hbo has already cancelled the show after one season, but not surprised. I kind of wish apple or someone would buy it out from under them to keep it going - especially with the cliffhanger they left us on - but alas.

that’s all I have to say to them, really.