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[papersowl]

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[parkerluvsu]

can u write something about art and reader having high sex 😛😛😛🙏🏻🙏🏻 like idk just like a chill night at the dorm at stanford or something where they smoke a couple blunts and grind on each other idk!!!!!!!!!!!

MOONLIGHT (art donaldson x fem! reader)

sometimes you felt like a bad influence on art.. he wouldn't let anything that wasn't on his pre-planned diet touch his lips before he met you. but from the first puff of your joint under the bleachers of the tennis court, he was hooked. not just on the woozy feeling he got when he took too long of a hit, but on the feeling of having you around him.

the more you two hung out, the more art associated the feeling of his head in the clouds, not with the large puffs of smoke drifting around his room, but you the feeling of you sitting next to him, your legs draped over his. art feels guilty, if he got caught, he'd absolutely get thrown out of the tennis program, and probably never be able to attend a good school again, but on the other hand.. your sweet giggles as you blow smoke into his face gave made him forget all the consequences if he got caught.

the problem with you (and it's not even really a problem to art.. he thinks you're perfect) is you like things casual. sure you've made out with art in a haze of smoke, maybe grinded a bit over his jeans in the back of his overly clean jeep, and he can't even count the times that you've texted him "you up?" at 2am, but he's never been your "boyfriend".

art knows it would be hard to have a serious conversation with you without the guise of just coming over to smoke, so he shoots you a text.

art: hey can i come over? need to relax :)

the buzz of your phone from the desk beside you steals your attention from your math homework, a welcome distraction. you text him back quickly, eager to have an excuse to smoke.

an eager knock on your door comes only minutes later, arts face a mixture of nerves and excitement, like a kid sneaking candy from their parents. art looks as cute as ever in his wrinkled stanford shirt and his checkered shorts, hair tussled from a night at practice. "cmon in artie" his cheeks blush at the nickname as he enters your dorm, making himself comfortable in the cozy chair in the corner. you pull out the box of paraphernalia from under your bed, flower stickers peeling off of the box from overuse. you tilt your head to the side, looking at arts body language, his constant shifting telling you he's trying to seem calm but he really isn't. "what do you wanna smoke?" you ask him, knowing what his answer will be before he even opens his mouth, "whatever you want".

that seems to be arts answer for anything, "whatever you want", sometimes you think if you walked off the edge of a cliff he'd do the same. art was one of those people who followed everything you did, the way you sat, the way you talked, and even your vocabulary, he would shift to be more similar to you. even when he smoked for the very first time, he watched you inhale so deep and hold it in before blowing a large cloud of smoke into the air, he tried to do the same.. but ended up greening out and throwing up in the trashcan next to the tennis courts. the truth is, art would do that all over again if it meant even one more second with you, and he knew it was clingy and definitely too dependent for the casual situation you were in.. but he can't help himself.

me: sure, come over anytime

art is a lightweight in every sense of the word, whenever Patrick would take him to a frat party to get totally wasted, all it took was one red solo cup full of beer to have art stumbling over his own feet. It was the same with weed, it only took one hit for art to start slurring his words, his body pretty much melting into any surface near him. currently, it's the cozy chair in the corner of your room, but you can see his eyes drifting towards the cozy blankets on you bed. "art, you know you can go sit on my bed right?" his eyes widen and he shuffles over, flopping down on the bed in such a way that would make sober-him flush with embarrassment. you giggle as he wraps himself in the blankets, his head lolling onto the pillow. art blearily watches you come sit on the bed too, leaning against the wall for support. the sight of him tangled up in your blankets reminds you of previous late nights spent together, causing a flutter in your stomach that you're a little ashamed of. art leans over to give you the joint back, your fingers brushing together softly. "y'know you look super pretty right now" art says, "n-not that you don't always look pretty but like.. right now especially" he revises his statement, he's always such a people pleaser. you laugh, taking a long hit from the joint before giving him a wide smile. "thanks artie, you're pretty too" you reply, knowing he likes being called pretty, even though he'd absolutely never say it, the way his ears go red gives him away every time.

as the night goes on, and your shared joint turns into a stub, you find yourself closer to art than you thought you were, your sides pressed up against each other as you lay on your backs, staring up at your ceiling. the boring white paint suddenly seeming very interesting until you felt movement beside you, art was tuning on his side and leaning his face on his hand. you blink, "what are you looking at?" glancing at arts eyes that were fixed on your face. "you" art says simply, causing you to shake your head and laugh. "i know that art.. but why?" you ask, pressing for an answer from him. "dunno.. just your face is nice" he says, his face dropping into your shoulder. arts breath was hot against your neck, making you almost want to pull away, but you'd never do that, enjoying the weight of him against you. arts breathing rate increases against your neck and you wonder why until you feel a pressure against your thigh. "art.." he hums in response, only focused on the small sharp movements of his hips. you know how quickly he shifts from being all innocent and sweet to taking what he needs.

you're such a sucker for art, especially when he's high and he can't hide his feelings like he usually does. you shift your leg to the side to help him, inciting an immediate response of his eyes fluttering shut against your shoulder, his eyelashes tickling you gently. the position that you maneuvered into allowed arts leg to slot between yours as well, letting you slowly rock your hips against his leg, the feeling of his bare skin only making you feel more pleasure. before you know it, art is pressing hot kisses into your neck and your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. "mmmmmfuck" art groans against your neck, even though he's feeling less woozy than earlier, he's still sensitive, just the feeling of grinding against you having him teetering on the edge. suddenly, you feel his hips stutter and a dampness cover the front of his shorts. art holds his breath for a second before his whole body goes limp against you, his fingers not clenching the sheets anymore.

a comfortable silence falls between you, before art breaks it with his soft voice. "can we go again? 'm sorry i just.. i need you" he whines out, still not showing his face. you giggle softly and nod, lifting up your hips to pull off your pajama pants and panties, art doing the same with his shorts and boxers. "how do you want me?" you ask, sending a flutter of butterflies into arts stomach because of the sense of control you're giving him. art thinks for a second, "can you turn around..? please" he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. you nod, turning to face the wall next to your bed, your back facing art. his gentle hands maneuver your legs into a position that's easy for him to slip into you. he does so slowly, more for your sake than his, he thinks if he pushed inside of you too fast he would surely cum prematurely (not like it hasn't happened before).

you feel art shiver against you, his hips pausing when he enters your fully, his balls resting snugly against your ass. art could truly stay like this forever, if he had the patience and resolve.. but he doesn't, his hips snap into yours quickly, the overstimulation getting to him. he wraps his arms around your stomach, holding you close to him, his head yet again smushed into the crook of your neck. every thrust he gives you feels like it's punching the air out of you, art isn't even pulling all the way out anymore, just humping his hips into you the best he can. even in his delicate headspace, art still wants to please you first, his fingers making their way down your stomach before rubbing messily at your clit, his fingers catching on your nub every few circles, causing you to tighten up around him. art is close, you can always tell by how his voice shifts from more coherent to just straight up blabbering, "mgh.. god.. 's so warm.. you're so warm.." "it feels s' good.. it's feels good to you too right?" "gotta be closer to you.. wan' be closer to you" but you snap to attention when he moans against you, "please be m' girlfriend please.. i wan' you to be mine.." you're sure art has no idea what he's saying until he repeats himself, almost sounding like he's about to cry. you nod quickly, "y-yeah artie okay.. ill be your girlfriend.." now you swear he actually sobs, his hips making one last deep thrust before you feel him fill you up, the sensation sending you over the edge right after him.

art stays inside of you for a minute, dating his breath before pulling out, grabbing a tissue and helping you clean up. when you open your eyes, arts looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. "um.. did you mean what you said?" he asks quietly, his head bowing down quickly, as if he didn't want to see your reaction. you think back to your agreement, sure it was in the heat of the moment, but would it really be such a bad idea to say yes? you pause, and arts head droops even lower, expecting the worst. "art you know ive purposely been keeping this casual.. but i.. i trust you now artie, i do want this to be serious" you reach out for his hand, squeezing it gently. arts face lights up like a kid getting the one present they wanted for christmas as he quickly hugs you. "thank you.. thanks, you won't regret it i swear" you smile, pulling the blankets over the both of you, snuggling into arts chest as you admire the beautiful rays of moonlight streaming into your bedroom.

art is easily entranced by the quick movements of your fingers as you roll a joint, it sounds silly but he's always admired the fact that you didn't buy pre-rolls, preferring to be more independent. you lick the paper to get it to stick shut (and art is grateful you were too focused on that to see the way his eyes widened when you did) and root around your drawer for your lighter, a stupid pink one decorated with hello kitty that you got for your birthday. art couldn't help but find it endearing, the way you were so independent and "too cool" for a real relationship, but you still kept all the things that people gave to you, even if they weren't to your taste. the click of your lighter snapped art out of his observations, the light from the tiny flame illuminating your face in a way that made art want to take a picture, the fluttering flame casting an orange glow onto your skin. the strong smell of the joint caused art to become a little lightheaded even though he hasn’t even taken a hit yet, his fingers grabbing the joint from you after a couple failed tries that make you laugh, the soft giggles a soundtrack for the night.

[zegrasdrysdale]

I know you’ve been getting Ethan Edwards smuts recently but I just thought of one today and thought I’d share it with you! Riding Ethan because he’s too hurt to be on top!

Hoping you could write this for me!! Thank you!!

[ saddle up ] e. edwards

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : a bored and injured Ethan finds his girl’s cowgirl hat from Halloween after a few months and is wearing it when she comes to the hockey house after class hoping she gets the hint

warning(s) : smut ! dirty talk, use of pet names during sex, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), injured!ethan (but he’s also horny lol)

author’s note : pls send all the ethan smut requests bc i am a whore for this man and i will pretty much write anything i get abt him lmaoo. enjoy anon <33

༺═──────────────═༻

The moment she walks into the hockey house after a full day of classes and lectures, something’s off. The house is usually buzzing with hockey players by the time four rolls around and she comes walking into the house.

This time, the house is empty. Luca isn’t sitting in the living room playing some kind of game with Adam, the Duke boys aren’t yelling at each other in the kitchen, no stray hockey player is doing his homework or playing with Luca if Adam has a game.

It’s too quiet.

“Ethan?” she calls out. “Are you here?”

There’s no way they’d leave Ethan alone with his injured shoulder. He still needs help with a few basic things and can’t put a lot of weight on his shoulder yet. That’s why she’s practically been living with four hockey players since she and Ethan came back from summer break.

As she walks up the stairs, a soft “here” comes from down the hallway. She pushes the door to Ethan’s room open and peeks her head inside.

Ethan is lying in bed so she feels a little better, but he’s wearing an unbuttoned checkered flannel and a pair of jeans. Her sparkly black cowgirl hat from Halloween is on his head. She covers her smile with her hand and has to stifle a laugh.

“What the hell are you wearing?” she asks, voice muffled by her hands. The laughter is evident in her voice. “What is happening?”

He smiles and slowly manuvers himself so he’s sitting up against the headboard behind him. “I got bored and was pacing around my room and I found your hat while I was doing that,” he tells her. “Dressed the part. I was hoping you’d do me a favor though.”

She kicks the door shut behind her and drops her bag on the floor next to it. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Save a horse, ride a hockey player?” Ethan tells her. It’s more of a question than a comment. “Well, a hockey player dressed as a cowboy. Anyway, please?”

Even injured and ordered by the doctor to rest, Ethan is thinking about sex. Possibly explains why the house is so empty. “Did you kick everyone out or something?” she asks. “It’s Wednesday. The house is usually filled to the brim with hockey players by now.”

“Coach Naurato called an emergency practice at Yost,” he explains. “There’s a team meeting I have to go to at seven but until then, I have the house all to myself.” He pats his lap with the hand that’s attached to his healthy shoulder. “So, saddle up.”

The laugh that she’s been surpressing bubbles from her throat. She loses it for a second, but she kicks off her sneakers anyway. “You are insufferable, Ethan Edwards,” she laughs. “Hot, but insufferable.”

Ethan shoots her another smile. “Yeah, but you still love me anyway,” he comments as she carefully crawls onto his lap. “Plus, it’s been a while since you’ve been fucked so I knew you couldn’t turn this down.”

She rolls her eyes and plays with the button on Ethan’s jeans. “I wanted to be careful because of your shoulder, E,” she tells him. “But yeah I’m losing my mind a little bit because it’s been a while.”

“Knew it,” Ethan laughs.

“You better be nice to me,” she reminds him as she pops his jeans open by undoing the button. “I’ll make sure this goes excruciatingly slow for you if you’re not nice to me.”

He throws his hands in the air in surrender. “Alright,” he says. “No need for threats.”

She smiles and kneels between his knees so she can get his pants off. She wiggles the jeans off of his legs and throws them on the floor. She can clearly see the bulge that’s formed in his boxers. With a light touch, she traces the bulge and Ethan presses his lips in a line.

Her fingers trail up over his abs and toned chest until she grazes his stubbled jaw. She carefully leans over him so she doesn’t accidentally put pressure on his shoulder.

Their eyes meet and Ethan smiles. “Hi, baby,” he says.

“Hi, handsome,” she giggles. “You sit there and rest like the doctor you to. I’ll take care of you.”

Ethan nods and she surges forward to capture his lips in a needy kiss. She cups his jaw and moves herself so she straddles one of his thighs. One of Ethan’s hands slides up the back of her shirt that she borrowed stole from him.

It’s very much been a while since they’ve properly had sex. It was before Ethan’s surgery, which was nearly seven months ago. Even then it was sporadic because he was playing through an injury and she didn’t want to hurt him even more. It’s been consistently hands, fingers, and mouths since about five months ago.

They’re great, especially when it’s Ethan’s fingers or tongue that make her come. Nothing will compare to being filled by Ethan’s dick though.

Yeah, she’s missed proper sex. Just a little bit. Or a lot.

She reaches down between them to pull her Ethan’s shirt over her head. The kiss breaks but Ethan leans up a bit and presses kisses to her collarbone. The hat he is wearing is knocked off his head and falls onto the pillows behind him. She grabs it and puts it on her own head.

He looks up at her and pulls back. “Saving a horse, riding a hockey player,” she comments. “Plus, it’s my hat.”

“It looks better on you anyway,” he replies. She tilts her hat in his direction and Ethan laughs.

His fingers slide to her back and unclasp the bra she had on. It falls between them and Ethan tosses it to the floor. He kisses her collarbones and chest. His lips trail down to her boobs. He’s always loved her tits and has always given them extra attention. Now is no different.

She leans her head back and sighs as Ethan cups one breast while he takes the other in his mouth. He switches after a moment. Her fingers are in his hair and she leaves the occasional kiss to his temple. “Ethan,” she sighs into his hair.

“Let me give my pretty girl some love first,” he mumbles against her skin. She smiles into his locks. “Then you’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

It feels like an eternity later when Ethan finally pulls back and looks up at her with the most innocent look on his face. Her chest is covered in red marks that only the two of them will ever see since it’s not bathing suit season. She shakes her head with a laugh before she leans in and captures his lips in a soft kiss.

Ethan begins to push at the waist and of the leggings she has on. “Come on, baby,” he whines into the kiss. “Off. Want you to ride me, pretty girl.”

His words shoot straight to her core and she hums. She loves when he talks to her like this and calls her ‘pretty girl’.

She has to break the kiss so she can get her pants off for him. She pushes the leggings, along with her already wet panties, down to her knees. She kicks them off from there. Ethan bites his bottom lip when she crawls onto his lap, completely naked.

Very carefully, she pushes the flannel that he’s wearing off his body. He sits up so she can get it off his arms without bumping his shoulder. The shirt joins the rest of their clothes on the ground.

Just to be a tease, she rolls her hips against Ethan’s. He groans and both his hands fly to her waist. “Keep doing that and we’re gonna have a problem,” he tells her. With a smile, she pulls his boxers off of him. His dick springs free of it’s confines as she throws the fabric to the floor with a soft thud.

She takes him in one hand and reaches over to his table to grab a condom out of the drawer. He intercepts her hand and she raises her eyebrows at him. “As long as it’s okay with you, I don’t want to use one,” he comments. “I just want to feel you.”

“You are so lucky that I started taking the pill,” she tells him with a laugh. “I’d be saying absolutely not if I didn’t.”

“Thank God for birth control,” Ethan replies. She smiles and leans in to kiss him again. One of his hands comes up to cup her face. She moves herself so she straddles his waist.

After a few extra pumps, she lines Ethan’s dick up with her entrance. She slowly sinks down on his cock with a sigh against his lips. His hands are on her waist to help her stay balanced. She feels the familiar stretch as she lowers herself onto his dick.

Once he’s completely inside of her, she gives herself a second since it’s been a while. Then she slowly moves her hips, still trying to be careful of Ethan’s shoulder.

Soft pants pass her lips into the messy kiss. The quicker her movements are, the heavier the pants. She has to break the kiss and rests her forehead against Ethan’s so she can breathe.

One of his hands comes up and cups her jaw. His thumb runs over her swollen lips and her hair has formed a curtain around their faces. She continues to move at a steady pace.

“Fuck,” she pants. “Missed this, E. Missed you.”

“Never left, baby,” he tells her. “Missed this too though.”

She smiles and kisses him again. Her hands rest on his torso as she quickens her pace.

The kiss doesn’t last long. The tip of his cock grazes her favorite spot and she groans. She sits back and is able to move at a slower but more comfortable pace and speed.

Ethan’s fingers trail from her jaw, down between her tits and over her stomach until he reaches her clit. She falters in her pace for a second but quickly recovers as she gets used to his fingers on her clit. “Don’t stop, E,” she pants as the knot in her stomach forms. “Shit.”

“I have you, pretty girl,” Ethan tells her. His own voice is shaky. “Look so pretty riding my cock, baby.”

She bites her bottom lip as her legs begin to shake on either side of his waist. Her orgasm is imminent but she isn’t ready for this to be over so quickly.

Her hands slide from his torso to his chest. Ethan’s able to lean his head up a bit and press soft kisses to her wrist. He grabs her hand with his free hand and kisses the back of it before he trails kisses down her arm. He gently pulls her so she leans over him again.

She lightly wraps her arms around his neck and quickens her pace one more time. “Fuck, E,” she gasps as the knot threatens to come undone. “Don’t want this to be over.”

“Come on my cock, sweet girl,” he tells her. “We’ll do this as many times as you want. Just wanna see you come on my cock, baby.”

His words mixed with his fingers on her clit and dick inside her are too much and she comes the next time she lowers herself onto him.

She loudly cries out his name as she reaches her high. Ethan cups her face in his hands so she doesn’t fall but she also grabs onto the headboard just in case. She loses her vision for two seconds and sees stars.

Ethan isn’t far behind her. With his healthy arm, he lifts her up and comes on her stomach and thighs. She heavily pants with a smile on her face as Ethan sinks back against the headboard after his own orgasm. He has a lazy smile on his own lips.

She leans in and they share a handful of lazy kisses as they both come down from their highs and get feeling back in their bodies.

As soon as she feels like she can stand, she gets off of Ethan and grabs the shirt she stole from him to wipe herself off. She finishes the job once she pees and wets a cloth.

When she comes back into the room, Ethan has the hat back on and is laying under the covers from the waist down. She laughs and shakes her head as she crawls under the covers with him.

She presses soft kisses to the scar on his shoulder. “I love you,” she mumbles. “The hat’s gotta go though. I’m down to do that again without the hat.”

Ethan tosses the hat somewhere in the room. “I love you,” he tells her. “I have an alarm set so you can sleep if you want.”

With a soft hum in agreement, her tired body gives in to sleep as she curls up around her boyfriend.

༺═──────────────═༻

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[linlinmoon]

"Look Of Love."

a/n : hi! just to note this isn't my best work as it is something i've done to crawl out of the deep pit of writer's block i'm currently suffering with so i suppose it is better than nothing 🙂‍↕️ i do appreciate if u suggest prompts in my ask box so i get the motivation to write and to write better 😻 enjoy!

🍰 : (they/them), fluff! riddle roseharts x reader.

The housewarden of Heartslabyul trudged his way back to his own dorm after dealing with miscellaneous events that wasn't even part of his agenda. His feet were practically dragging itself across the checkered tiles, his body so heavy he just wanted to do nothing but lay on his bed the whole entire evening after. 

It was one of the things left unsaid when being a housewarden, that you'd also have to be the one to pick up after the people who are more careless with following the rules and laws of the dorm. 

He couldn't let those things slide of course, yet fortunately he was a bit more considerate than before. After the overblot incident, he had become more lenient with certain rules, although it didn't mean that he'd let things slide way too often. 

And finally after a day of housewarden duties homework, and a lot of spellcasting on rulebreakers. He had arrived at the front of his dorm. Thank the Seven.

He opens the door to see them currently studying on the desk, the only other person that would make him feel like not everything has to be perfect all the time. The person that reminded him it was okay that his files didn't have to always be in proper order or the colors of his pens weren't in sequence according to their shades. Through them, it's also how he learned to be more expressive with how he feels and is in the process of learning how to do so in a proper manner, to  avoid any pent up negativity that would possibly bottle up inside of him.

Perhaps he was even more than lenient with them when it came to the laws of the dorm, though he'd say that it had just slipped his mind.

Definitely wasn't favoritism. ( Of course it was, he just wouldn't say it out loud )

“Ah, good evening. You're back later than usual.” they smiled, the corners of their lips tugging at their cheeks. They had taken his hands in theirs, slowly intertwining their fingers with each other's.

“Mm. Got held back a little.” he spoke, visibly exhausted. 

“Want to talk about it?”

“Please. It would truly help to let it out.”

They get up from their seat and had sat themself down at the bed and had laid on their back, pulling the housewarden down with their movement. After a few moments of comfortable silence, they shift to lay on their stomach to fix their eyes on the redhead who was to talk about the day they've had.

Riddle had rested his eyes before looking back up at their partner, giving them a knowing look to subconsciously ask them if it was alright to rant and let out whatever he could about what had happened through out his day. 

“Go on, I'm listening.” they assure, nodding a little as a signal for him to begin

“My day was usual, but it was a rather hectic with the sudden things that would come up out of nowhere, completely unannounced. As always, there would be atleast a number of students who are careless to forget certain rules. The assigned students had forgotten to wear pink when taking care of the flamingos today, they should know that by now. It's just once every week, how hard it is to remember..”

He continues on and on for awhile shifting their positions as their limbs entangle with one another. His head had rested on their chest as they ran their fingers through his hair. Eyes half lidded as they continued to listen, now just noticing this is the most he's ranted in awhile. 

They weren't complaining though, they "were" listening or they supposed to be but they couldn't help but stare while he just spoke. The way his lips would move when he pronounced certain words differently, the way how his brows would furrow when he talked about some event that irritated him or the way his eyes would shift from them then towards the ceiling as he recalled about thing that happened. Overall entranced by how... pretty, he looked when he spoke.

Riddle had noticed that they seemed to be just hum and nod in agreement at a certain pace, as if they were on autopilot or something. Noticing the way they looked at him, the way they only blinked or glanced elsewhere only if it was necessary.

“Are you listening?”

“Mhm.. huh?”

“I think you've just been staring the entire time.”

“No no no.. I was listening I promise. The doormouse had jam spread on it's nose, the herbal tea is better than any other and-”

“That's not.. Oh, you're impossible.” he stifles a laugh, playfully hitting their chest. They had moved closer to his embrace and laughed along with him. 

The sweet melodic sound of their voice rung in his ear, tinting his ears pink.  He could listen to them laugh over and over again like a broke vinyl. 

He had moved his hand onto theirs before making its way to their cheeks, holding their face in place to admire the way their features complimented one another. Riddle would be completely lying if he said he didn't like the way they would look at him, how could he? They looked at him as if he was the only one he could see, the only one in this world. Their gaze so full of love that it was overflowing, all the love that the world could hold in those eyes. And they were his, all his. They were his world, and he was theirs.  

“Sorry I can't help but stare. But I swear I listened.. to the first half I suppose.”

“Not to worry. I'd be happy to tell you all about it over and over again.”

“You would?”

“Mhm.. For you, I'd do it over and over again.”

[archangeldyke-all]

okay so I was thinking about it if the little fucker was in a higher grade or smth like that and she comes to reader to help her with her math homework but reader can't explain it because she doesn't know math so fucking well so she's like "go to mom with it " ofc I mean sev and the little fucker will look at her mom with a scowl like "mama are you serious??" to which the reader would reply something like "I had a shitty teacher, kid" and then call her wife for help :p

this is hilarious (can u guys tell i'm ovulating?? the baby fever has me writing little fucker fic after little fucker fic hahaha)

men and minors dni

you blink down at the numbers in front of you, trying desperately to remember your high school math education.

"fuck, baby, you're asking the wrong mom." you mumble to your girl.

little fucker groans next to you. "i know." she whines.

sevika's usually the math-checker in your family-- it's what she does at work all day, she's kinda a whiz at calculating numbers and remembering obscure statistical formulas. but tonight your wife's at a work fundraiser she couldn't get out of, and as a result you've been staring at this stupid fucking worksheet for nearly an hour now.

"what's your grade in the class? think you can just skip this assignment?" you ask. your daughter groans.

"i'm on the brink of failing!"

"well, what possessed you to sign up for a statistics class?!"

"i thought it'd be easier than calculus!" she shouts.

the word 'calculus' sends a shiver down your spine and you huff, sitting back in your seat and reaching out to pat your daughter's back. she leans to the side and rests her head on your shoulder, sighing.

"did you try calling jinx?" you ask after a few minutes of silence.

your daughter pouts and nods. "she's at work."

jinx works at a nightclub, she wouldn't be able to focus on math if she could hear your daughter's call over the pounding music anyways.

"your sister?" you ask.

little fucker snorts. "ma, she won the single digit multiplication competition. this is statistics."

"take that back!" you gasp. "stinkybutt's a fuckin' math whiz!"

little fucker cackles, and you grin, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

"c'mon. let's forget it for the night." you say, rising from the kitchen table. your daughter gawks.

"i can't just leave it!"

"i'll set me and your mom's alarm an hour early tonight, have her wake up early and help you with it before breakfast." you say. "for now: let's have some ice-cream. i think we've earned it."

your daughter grins, and she jumps out of her seat so fast it falls and smacks the floor behind her.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty @claude999

[aspiringtrashpanda]

Beel and mc first date short fic ✨

Our sweet boy Beel deserves all the love <3 Let's gooooo!

Characters: Beel x MC Sharing food as a love language, pure fluff. Did first kiss too, I hope that's okay! No warnings apply

This was a joke, right?  

You were seeing things. You had to be seeing things. 

There was in no way in all the three realms that Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony and Ruler of the Underworld, had just placed half of his gigadeath burger on your plate.  

Half. 0.5. ½.  

You weren’t sure his stomach could handle such deprivation! He was a growing demon! He needed his nutrients! 

“What?” Beel paused his chewing, burger grease dripping down his fingers and onto the checkered parchment paper on the tray before him. “You’re not hungry?” 

Eyes flitting from the burger - the frankly delicious burger oozing premium molten mozzarella, the cheese mingling with the juice pooling from the sizzling meat patty - to his concerned gaze, you wiped the drool from the corner of your lip and shook your head. “It’s not that. It’s just… Don’t you want your whole burger?” 

It was cute, the way he cocked his head to the side. His fiery hair fell into his eyes for a moment, his slow blink drawing your attention to his dark eyelashes. Your heart stuttered in your chest when he lifted his shoulder in a lopsided shrug. “I want you to try it. It’s really good.”

“Are you sure?” Your devil nuggets called your name from their carton next to your soda. They were tasty, sure, but that burger looked like something else.

“Yeah,” He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did you think we were only coming here tonight?”

The taste flooding your tongue - savory and salty with a crunch from the fixings cradled between two soft buns - was so overwhelming, you didn’t register his words. You were too busy relishing in the richness of the burger as it traveled down your throat and to your stomach, warming you from the inside out. It didn’t even bother you that the patty was probably made from some weird Devildom animal that you would usually find unappetizing. The burger was too good to care.

Realization struck you like lightning from above. “Wait, what?”

It was not lost on you how Beel’s indigo gaze traced the tip of your tongue as you licked at the residual taste on your lips. Something unreadable lanced through his irises. Suddenly, it was awfully hard to meet his eyes, your heart firmly lodging itself in your throat. 

Lazily nibbling on his last acidic hell fry, he suggested, “Want to have a campfire?”

“A campfire?” You echoed, ducking your head when you became self-conscious of your dumb expression.

His mind made up, he toweled off his greasy fingers and stood, the stool screeching against the wooden floors of Hell’s Kitchen. “Yeah,” Determination as sharp as his jaw set his brow into a deep furrow. “Come with me.”

Keeping up with Beelzebub on the hunt for food was easier than you had expected. Looming over most demons, his long legs gave him the ability to cover impressive distance with each step. However, you found it wasn’t difficult to wander the streets of the Devildom at his side. Maybe it was the way he moved slowly, with intention, as if he was trying to commit every second of this night to his memory. Maybe it was his big heart, always so considerate of those he cared about. 

Maybe he was looking out for you, just as you always looked out for him. There was a reason you kept snacks on your person at all times, after all. 

It had come as a surprise when Beel had requested your attendance for an impromptu dinner at Hell’s Kitchen. You had been drowning in homework, the sharp knock on your bedroom door startling you from your third attempt to actually absorb the words on the page in front of you. 

“Hey, dinner tonight?” He had asked, so casually as if it was any other day.

“Sure,” You had smiled.

“Cool,” He had beamed that dazzling Beelzebub grin that stretched wide across his face. The one where you could count all of his sharp teeth. The one that creased his eyes into crescent moons and made your stomach twist into a pretzel. “It’s a date.”

You were pretty sure it had taken you at least five minutes to process the bomb he had dropped on you upon his exit. Another fifteen to find a suitable outfit - casual and comfortable, but also nice, you know? And you couldn’t possibly discount the solid forty minutes spent worrying over whether he was joking or being serious. 

When he had met you in the entrance hall clad in his best jeans and a flattering, nice sweater, you felt the relief inflate your chest like a helium balloon. 

And really, you still felt like you were walking on air. Even as you stood in the snacks aisle of a Devildom bodega, shying away from the unflattering glare of overhead fluorescent lights as Beel rifled through foil packaging with an intensity that you long learned accompanied his hunger. 

He fought you tooth and nail at the register, amusement dancing upon his lips. “Why should you pay?”

“Because you bought dinner,” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest as if it would possibly make you more intimidating in the eyes of the 6’4” demon. 

“Hmmm,” he mulled over your argument for a millisecond, just to lean down and blow a raspberry in your face. He smirked, “Nope.”

It caught you off guard, your face burning as bright as a screaming tomato. Brattiness was usually Belphie’s expertise. 

Mischief melting into soft affection in his indigo gaze, fixed to you as the bodega clerk processed his payment, he ventured, “What if… you cover our next date?”

You liked the way the tips of his ears flushed, the way he rubbed the back of his neck and shot you a sheepish, albeit genuine, smile. 

“I think that would be fair.” A tickle spread across your cheeks, scrunching your nose and burning your skin. 

Though, the heat from your flush had nothing on the warmth of the flames lapping at the inky Devildom sky. The embers shot like fireflies reaching for the stars, the campfire crackling within the confines of the pit, lined by rocks that would dwarf even Beelzebub’s palm. It had come as a surprise when Beel had led you off the beaten path, guiding you to a clearing in a forest not too far from the House of Lamentation. However, the secret fire pit made a lot more sense when he explained that it was typically reserved for stargazing with Belphie. 

“Are those… rice krispie squares?” You asked, the pop of an adhesive seam wafting vanilla your way.

“They’re crackling mallow bars,” Beel corrected, though there was no judgment in his tone. He had this way of introducing you to Devildom cuisine in a manner that felt familiar, like he understood that there were a lot of similarities between the dishes you knew. “They’re made up of marshmallows and these crispy marrow bits that are caramelized and -”

“Do they taste sweet?” You suppressed a grimace at the unappetizing description.

He chucked, the sound oozing reassurance, “Yes.”

“Okay, cool.” As he retrieved two long sticks, splitting into sharp prongs at the tip, nostalgia hit you like a truck. You hummed, “I used to eat something like this all the time when I was little.”

He raised a brow. “You’re still little.”

“Very funny.”

He laughed. Peeling the wrapper from two treats, he secured both on the ends of the sticks. “Have you ever roasted them over a campfire?” 

“I never considered that. They would melt pretty fast, wouldn’t they?”

“You would think so,” He passed you a stick, eyes warm with encouragement and something akin to childlike awe, “But they actually hold up for a while.”

For a moment, it was quiet. Just you and Beel and the chirps of the hell crickets in the undergrowth. It was hard to pay attention to the way the sweet bars darkened, a char climbing up the chunks of… marrow, or whatever… when you could feel Beel’s eyes on you. 

When you met his gaze, he was ready, already pulling the snack from his stick. “Here, try this.”

The marshmallow near compromised, the dessert fell apart in his large hands. Beel’s fingers tangled in sticky sweetness, you gasped in delight as strings of sugar stretched towards you with his gesture. “Oh, it’s so gooey!” 

His smile was so big, so warm, and you had the sudden thought that if you were in Icarus’s shoes, you too would fly too close to the sun. He went to feed you the treat, laughing, “Open wide!”

The explosion of flavor on your tongue - hot and sweet with that smoky campfire accent - had you squirming in delight, a thrilled hum vibrating in your throat. You were grateful that Beel thought to remove your stick from the fire. You were far too occupied with your new favorite snack to notice it about to ignite. 

Beel’s laughter died, his brow furrowing as conflict eclipsed the joy in his gaze. You looked to him, confused. “What?”

Had he always been that close? Had he been watching you with such longing this entire time?

“You’ve got a bit of marshmallow…” His adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, eyes zeroing in on your lips. “Can I?”

You nodded. Your mouth was so dry, your pulse in your ears. With his nose nudging yours, you could taste the sweetness of the marshmallow treat on his breath, feel the way you were drawn closer like sticky sugar insistent on holding you together. 

His lips brushed yours - soft and chaste. It was funny how a kiss so gentle could hold so much weight. Featherlight, a tender brush, and yet you felt as though the prints of his lips were engraved on yours forevermore. 

“Mmm, tastes extra good,” he breathed, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs smoothed over your skin, his eyes reading your soul as you leaned in to kiss him again. A peck to his lips, to his nose, to the apples of his cheeks.  

“What are you thinking about?” You murmured, reveling in his proximity, his radiant warmth. 

“Trying all my favorite foods off your lips,” He smiled, the twitch of his lips slotting against yours with such ease. “Think we could try that?”

“Sure,” You laughed, “It’s a date.”

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

this is low-key a love letter to burgers. My requests are open! Find more info HERE. Banner by @4laurus. Check out her work - and also her Beel.

[querytheauthor]

An Introduction (with a Moderator's Message/OOC Message under the cut)

Greetings, and hello, users of the Internet (specifically, users of the website "Tumblr", which I'm sure you're aware of, seeing as you're currently using it)! This is Unusualogist Stanford Pines, writing to you from the depths of my complex mind.

Ever since my return, I've been made aware of the rising use of the Internet and its compatible devices as a communication form. Now, I wouldn't call myself an "expert" on anything involving modern-day technology as of yet—but, I will tell you, I have been getting used to its functions and features.

I'm aware there may be many questions floating around, both about Gravity Falls, Oregon, and the state of the world on its own. The strategy of ignoring... certain events is highly recommended, but if you find yourself with a curious mind like my own, I don't doubt you can't simply "forget" anything that you may have experienced. And, although you can confront many people for answers, I believe it to be my honor and my duty to address any concerns you may have, seeing as I'm undoubtedly one of the more experienced in the field of unusualogy.

Therefore, with help from my niece and nephew, I have opened this account with the primary goal of answering any questions you may have! I am happy to respond to the best of my ability—however, I do have three criteria to keep in mind when submitting your questions:

1. I do ask that you keep any questions as appropriate as you can. I will not be answering anything I find invasive or strange (not in the good way!). Don't be a creep, as my brother would put it.

2. Do not be afraid to interact, no matter who you may be and where you may come from! The goal of using the Internet as a base for "Q&A" (Questioning and Answering) is to achieve the broadest possible outreach we can manage.

3. I ask that you refrain from seeking out formulas or scientific theories that may disrupt the peace we have worked towards keeping. I will not allow this innocent, online expenditure to be used as a weapon for harm!

3A. I also ask that you refrain from using me as a "homework checker". Although I am glad to give you hints, I'm sure you can manage it yourself.

That would be all the rules I can think of for now. I will notify you all if there are any changes. With that, I only have one thing to say: ask away!

This blog is run by @ilovetapeworm who is a MINOR so, for the love of everything, there is heavy emphasis on not being a creep. Additionally, anyone can feel free to interact, whether a Gravity Falls blog or not! This is all for fun. :)

Asks will be tagged "The Author's Eager Or Not So Eager Replies". In-Character posts will be tagged as "Ford's Journal Drabbles". Out-Of-Character posts will be tagged "Damien Takes The Wheel".

Feel free to use sign-offs if you find that easier! And most of all, have fun with it! I hope my characterization is up to your satisfaction.

[chocolix76]

Word count: 1,358

Dads are not supposed to be giant humanoid yellow rabbits with sunken blue eyes. Most of all, dads are not supposed to be robotic murderers.

Those were the only thoughts running through Oswald’s mind as he paced back and forth across his room, occasionally pausing as he listened for the tell tale metal thumps of the rabbit’s footsteps. The thing that was pretending to be his dad. 

Just a few weeks ago, Oswald was sitting at a dirty wooden table at Jeff’s Pizzeria daydreaming about his first day in sixth grade. What new friends would he make when most of the town left after the mill closed? How much homework would he get in middle school? Oswald didn’t know that his life would soon be turned upside down by a time traveling ball pit and a killer robot that wanted to be his dad. This whole experience gave a new meaning to a saying his mother loved to abuse. Be careful what you wish for.

Minutes blended into an hour, Oswald pacing back and forth across his dimly lit room brainstorming ideas of how to get his father back without the rabbit catching him first. The rabbit had every opportunity to kill him by now. So why hadn’t it? Before he had the chance to grasp at reasons why the rabbit was playing with him like a cat before slaughtering its prey, Oswald heard the signature stomping of the rabbit approaching his bedroom. His breath caught in his throat as he immediately dove under his bed just as the robot slowly opened the door.

Light from the hallway poured into Oswald’s room, the rabbit’s massive figure casting a horrific shadow across his bed. As the robot lumbered into his room, its large head swiveling around in search of Oswald, he covered his mouth and nose with the palm of his hand attempting to muffle the sound of his ragged breathing. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and for a moment, he feared the rabbit could hear it too. This was the end. He had nowhere to run and his mom was at work. For a fleeting moment he wondered how long it would take for his mother to find his body. Maybe the rabbit would erase him from her memory altogether.

Through the fringes of Oswald’s yellow and green checkered bedspread, he could see the rabbit approaching the side of the bed. Beads of sweat erupted on his forehead, his entire body trembling as the silence of the room was broken by the ear splitting squeaks of metal in severe need of oiling as the rabbit lowered itself to one knee. A large, yellow hand lifted up the bedspread, the rabbit’s piercing blue eyes illuminating the underside of the bed.

Bits and pieces of what he had seen through the doorway the night the rabbit stole his father away flashed before Oswald’s eyes. Five children not much younger than he were lying on the white and black checkered floor. Blood that nearly looked black in the dim lighting coating the floor and walls, staining the children’s clothing. None of them were moving. One body was facing the door, the corpse’s unseeing brown eyes boring into Oswald’s soul. He was next. He would become the sixth victim of the rabbit’s massacre. However, instead of grabbing Oswald’s arm and pulling him out from under the bed, the rabbit made a beckoning motion, stepping back to give him space to climb out from his hiding spot.

“What do you want from me?” Oswald demanded, hating how his voice wavered and cracked and how his body still trembled so violently he wasn’t confident his legs would be able to hold him. 

He wasn’t sure how he expected the rabbit to respond considering it couldn’t speak, or at least never made an effort to speak before, but it calmly motioning towards his desk was the last thing he expected. When caught between doing what the rabbit asked or risking facing its wrath, Oswald decided climbing out from under the bed and allowing himself to be guided towards his desk was the safest option.

The rabbit patted the swivel chair Oswald had picked out on a shopping trip with his parents before it took a seat on a wooden chair it had borrowed from the kitchen. The wood creaked and groaned under the robot’s weight, but the rabbit paid it no mind. It simply sat there patiently waiting for Oswald to sit down, its head tilted ever so slightly.

As Oswald slowly sat down, keeping the rabbit in his peripheral vision, he noticed that the robot had taken out a lined piece of paper and the instructions to his history essay, laying it neatly on the desk. Oswald glanced from the empty piece of paper to the rabbit who looked at him expectantly. Almost innocently. He fought back the urge to laugh, or cry, about the absurdity of it all. This was not his father, so why was it pretending to be? Was this some sort of cruel game?

He tried to take a pen to paper simply to please the imposter, terrified that his head would be crushed between the rabbit’s large, flat teeth if he didn’t do what he was asked. A few agonizing minutes ticked by, his mind unable to conjure any useful information to put together an introduction paragraph. All he could think of was the animatronic rabbit sitting within arms reach. It was impossible to focus like this and, somehow, the rabbit caught on.

In an eerie mimicry of a sigh, the rabbit placed one large hand on Oswald’s shoulder, leading him out of his seat and down the hallway with an almost parental care. Oswald wanted nothing more than to scream and run away, but that would do him more harm than good. The rabbit led Oswald to the dining room, pulling out a chair for him to sit down before disappearing into the kitchen.

The scratchy sound of distorted humming wafted from the kitchen along with the sounds of the rabbit rummaging around through the cabinets. Oswald glanced over his shoulder at the front door, wondering how easy it would be to slip through the rabbit’s fingers and escape to the pizzeria to have another crack at saving his father. However, what harm could humoring the rabbit do? Maybe it would make things a little easier on his end if the rabbit believed that Oswald had somewhat accepted him. 

The banging around in the cabinets soon came to an end as the rabbit produced a tray covered in snacks, placing the tray in front of Oswald before gently ruffling his hair with a giant hand. Air caught in Oswald’s throat as he stared down at the tray in front of him, imagining it as a giant pizza box. Was this the rabbit’s way of luring him into being its next victim, or was this the rabbit being genuinely kind? 

“Why are you being so nice to me? I saw you mur-…I saw you kidnap my dad. Why are you trying to help me with my homework and…do all this?” Oswald asked, staring at the rabbit expectantly. After a few seconds, he felt a bit stupid interrogating the mute animatronic. However, if it really wanted to answer, maybe it could write something down for him.

Instead, the rabbit simply shrugged. It nudged the tray closer to him, Oswald barely able to process the fact that the tray was neatly decorated with baby carrots and apple slices, a bag of chips sitting in the corner. Noticing something purple peeking out from underneath the bag of chips, Oswald moved it aside to see that the rabbit had drawn a little heart on a purple sticky note, along with a childish portrait of Oswald underneath. Abruptly, any trace of an appetite vanished as he stared at the sticky note in terror, unsure if it was a taunt or a genuine proclamation of parental affection. At this point, he wasn’t sure which was worse.

All he knew was that he needed to get his real dad back and soon.

[purplesimmer455]

Back in San Sequoia:

Megan comes back from work early, at 2pm. She'd been sitting at her desk for a bit too long, and she can feel her back grumble as she stretches. Her back pain and overall body stiffness is forgotten, however, when she spots her girlfriend Iseul. "Hey baby," She says and Iseul’s eyes light up as she bounds towards Megan. They share a kiss, and Megan's niece and neighbor Piper, who Iseul had been talking to, grins and shakes her head. "Auntie Megs, she was just waiting for you to show up," She says as Megan pulls away from Iseul, who grins sheepishly and runs a hand through her hair. "What? No, I was shooting a wedding a few blocks over and came over once I finished." She says and Megan grins. "Sure, Kang." She says teasingly, but pulls Iseul in for a second kiss as Piper averts her eyes and grumbles.

Piper invites Megan and Iseul into her and Cam's apartment. "Emmy's already there," she adds to Megan, who nods. Megan heads over to her daughter first, checking on her and asking if she's done her homework. "Yes mom," Emily says, rolling her eyes lightly but smiling. "I'm just making sure, nooboo. This time next year, you'll be off at college," Megan says, a wistful note in her voice. "I know," Emily says softly and she grins at her mom. "I'll video call you and text you, don't worry." She says. "And visit too, if you can. I'll pay for your ticket here," Megan adds and Emily nods, trying not to show how sappy she feels at the thought of being away from her moms.

Meanwhile, Iseul strums an air guitar to some metal music and then goes to talk to her niece Cam, who's wearing a rainbow checkered button up shirt over a black tank top. "How are you, Cammy?" She asks and Cam grins. "Good, I took your and auntie Megs' advice. I'm still at my engineering firm but doing some hobbies on the weekend to see what I like," she says and Iseul nods. "I'm guessing you're good too? From the way you're glowing and smiling all the time with Megs around," Cam adds teasingly. "Not just because of her. Maybe I'm happy to see my youngest niece," Iseul says, raising a brow but she cracks a grin as Cam nudges her. "Yeah, I've been good. Things aren't perfect, but whenever I see Megs and get to hold and kiss her, it's like the world is a bit brighter," she adds softly and Cam nods, her eyes soft too. "Yeah, I feel the same way with Piper," she adds.

Edit: At one point, Piper and Megan went outside and Piper used her inspiring siren song on Megan for fun. A sim in a bear costume happened to walk by, and she turned to look at them and some of the song blasted their way. 😳😂

[writing-with-yours-truly]

Wattpad Transfer. "I think I just met my dad in 1955" Marty [Back to the Future] x Reader

Warnings: Innuendo

Additional information: No use of Y/N, code name, inspired by the Bo Burnham song.

Requested by: N/A

...

1955. The year Doc Brown thought of his time machine. The year the town hall's clock had stopped working. The year Marty's parents met. You and Marty were currently in an-old fashioned diner, relaxing your nerves from what the past few hours had brought. Doc Brown getting killed by terrorists -who were looking for him-, traveling to 1955, and now trying to find him.

You and your friend went to the telephone booth that the counterman had directed you to, and looked for Doc Brown's name. "He's on here." You pointed out his name. A phone number was next to his name.

Marty dialed it, and waited for an answer. No answer. You peered past your shoulder, and there was the counterman, looking at the both of you.

"Marty, I don't think he's there. Let's just get a drink and cool off a moment." You both left the phone booth and sat down on the bar stools cemented in front of the counter. People gave you and Marty funny looks. They already gave him crap on his jacket that reminded them as a life jacket. You couldn't help but laugh.

For a moment, you had looked around the place. The colors were vibrant, and the floors were checkered. It was pretty quiet. The only people near you was a man sitting at the bar stool next to Marty, eating his cereal -who you must admit looked like his dad- and another young man sitting next to him, writing what looked like an assignment.

The history lectures did not tell you how different 1955 was. Not at all. "Can I get a Pepsi Free?" Marty asked the counterman. "Yeah, I wish I could have it for free, too." You sighed and shook your head. "Just...a drink without any sugar in it, please."

"I'll take an orange juice," you say. The counterman immediately went to work on our drinks. As the two of you waited for your beverages, you decided to have small talk. "So, you think Doc will believe us?"

Marty had an unreadable look, but sure enough, responded, "I hope so. He's the only one who knows what to do. Two point one gigawatts! Where could we get that? Only Doc would know!" He covered his face with his hands. "I should have grabbed the plutonium."

You put a hand on his shoulder, and reassured him. "Marty, you couldn't have thought of plutonium at a time like that. I know you. Doc was the only person, and the only thing you were thinking of."

You both drifted into silence, and the door opened, a group of kids walked in. "Biff?" You and Marty asked yourselves as you watched him walk by to stop in front of the other two people sitting.

The orange juice and sugarless drink were placed down, but neither of you paid attention to it. Too worried about Biff's intentions.

"Hey, McFly." He said, snottily, looking at the man. So is that George? He continued eating his cereal. Marty just looked at Biff, confused. "McFly, hello?" He started knocking on the young boy's head with his knuckles. "What, Biff?" George asked. "You got my homework done?" Biff asked. "Is that my dad?" Marty leaned over to ask you in a whispered tone. "I'm pretty sure." You answered.

"Why can't you do your own damn homework, Biff?" The other man asked, looking over at the standing bully. "Oh, what a surprise. The coward has the guts to speak up to me." He grabbed a fistful of his shirt. "Hey, hey stop!" You exclaimed. Biff released his shirt and glared at you. "And who exactly do you think you are, gorgeous?" You mentally threw up, and answered, "I'm Beatrice."

"Beatrice," Biff says in a weird voice. "Such a gorgeous name for such a beautiful girl." Marty looked like he was about to snap at him. "Hey, didn't your parents teach you how to treat a lady?" His gang gasped, and Biff's face turned red in anger. "Who do you think you are?"

"Her boyfriend." Marty answered confidently, putting and arm around your shoulders, causing you to blush. Him? Your boyfriend? "Oh well, I can change that quickly." Biff said in a dirty tone, leaning close to you. You turned your head to the right, looking at the 'coward' Biff referred to. Your father. And George. Marty's dad. Your dad looked at you and did a half nod. "Hey, Biff. Leave her alone." He warned. "Oh yeah? Why should I?"

"Because if you don't you really will regret coming here today. You don't ever disrespect people when I'm around." You lean your head next to Marty's ear. "I think I just met my dad in 1955."

[respectthepetty]

Have you caught up on JoongEst interaction? Est left a comment "HBD bro" to Joong bd post and Joong responded by saying "I'm happy. Thank you." Few days later, Joong also liked Est's post.

There are WILD theories going on, apparently some ghostshipping accounts claiming Joong & Est are secretly dating because they have matching rings, same clothes, etc. and lovestragram, and Joong changing his bio to #rest means Est because "R" is Rivipon (Est's name) + "est" = "Est" and Est's comment being the only one Joong responded with words while others being just a heart.

I don't even know if I'm supposed to take this seriously because I've seen bl actors wearing same clothes and accessories within their group of close friends so many times, and this argument being used in every dating rumor just doesn't hold enough substance for me. I need some actual stuff like when MewTul was being rumored to be bfs like helping the other's sibling do homework while the other one is not even around. Anyway, the most interesting part for me was Daou did NOT wish Joong hbd. So before Est was the one who blocked Joong while Daou never unfollowed Joong, and now Est and Joong followed back each other, commented and liked posts and Daou is out of the picture. And Est was still hanging out with Daou like yesterday, so.

You said capitalism in your post when they followed back and I think I feel the same way since Daou is not part of LOL but Est is. I'm genuinely wondering where this would go once LOL preparation starts.

There is no ethical consumption under capitalism, so if the lure of more money is what gets me the return of Hot Girl Summer, then so be it!

If the Twitter mafia wants to think that Est wrote two O's on Joong's birthday post because he wanted to write "boo" instead "bro," I support it because Bangkok is experiencing excessive heat with its ridiculous humidity, and people are going to start acting up because they are cranky, so the more love we have, the better.

But I think the mafia could come up with a better reasoning for Joong only responding to Est with words when he responded to everyone else with ❤ like pettiness: I'm happy (despite the issues you caused over the last few months). <- (PERIOD?!) Thank you (for nothing!). <- (ANOTHER PERIOD?! This is hostile!)

But my favorite has to be the "#rest" theory because that would make him the Taylor Alison Swift of BL Land playing 4D chess when my ass is just trying to play checkers.

Either way, I'm excited to see what is planned for LOL Fest because Joong has already stated he wants to see William and Est perform (as if he won't be performing with them! Can't trick me twice, Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo!). Thanks, different anon, for that link.

If it's genuine, that's great, but if it's Joong putting his streaming media production degree to use, so he can continue to cash those checks, even better! Just because he no longer has a frog to feed does not mean he doesn't have bills to pay. RIP, Edward.

So unlike some other fans *cough* Ohm *cough* I'm going to support my chismoso in collecting his bahts and his bag like a young Lucille Bluth, and if May 19 rolls around and they are back to blocking each other, then I hope he convinces Khaotung and First to be the new Hot Girls of the Summer.

Thank you for this information, and I hope you have the exact day you want with little treats sprinkled in.

[desklib-contact]

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[sirianasims]

The Don Diaries

Don showers thoroughly after his dumpster date, but just before he goes to bed, Miracle decides to scare the shit out of me. GOD PLEASE NO

While Don sleeps I keep Miracle under close observation for any clues about her nausea. She takes a shower so I think she was just feeling smelly, but before I can relax, she's accosted by Handsome Shrek.

Shrek literally tries to slap her but Miracle doesn't put up with his shit and I couldn't love her more.

Fuck you, Handsome Shrek!

Handsome Shrek is not pleased but Miracle is moisturised and unbothered and does her homework in his face. I have no idea what's even going on in this dorm any more.

And the insanity doesn't stop. Don is still sleeping and I suddenly spot Gina blowing kisses to Ashley?!

I mean, granted, Don is regularly doing other women and he and Gina are still not official, but this comes out of absolutely nowhere.

Early the next morning, things take yet another extremely weird turn. First, Sidney wakes up after apparently having hot dreams about Gina?! YOU JUST GOT ENGAGED

Then, Ashley wakes up and... does not wear pants.

I have no idea why, she just doesn't wear pants. It's kinda freaking people out.

Seriously, poor Nathan is traumatised, he's probably never seen a girl's butt before.

SIDNEY EXPLAIN! WHY IS SHE NOT WEARING PANTS?!?!

I finally stop laughing long enough to attempt a solution before things get any crazier. Don uses his abundant charisma to convince Ashley to take a shower.

oh god i hope this works

Thankfully, Ashley takes a hint and puts those nifty checkered pants back on.

Order is restored. For now.

[miredball]

sydcarmy meeting as kids au!!!

the berzatto kids help out at The Beef on the weekends. it’s fully a mom and pop operation. mikey’s there so naturally richie’s there too and they’re both teenagers and richie mans the counter all rowdy and loud but boyish and charming and old ladies love him

nat buzzes around donna eager to be useful but donna shoos her away or straight up just ignores her the whole day pretending not to notice nat tugging on her shirt saying please mom please

at the end of the day she sits on a stool at the counter mopey and sad but then richie asks her to count the register because he says he’s “fucking godawful” and she feels a little less useless after that

mikey being the oldest works in the kitchen. first he’s prepping vegetables or making the sauce and at some point their dad stops trying at all so he has to pick up the slack and starts to miss more and more classes to help out at the restaurant

one time he’s running out for school in the morning when he sees donna at the dining table sobbing into her palms saying no one wants to help her and she has no one and everything’s always on her on her on her (one person called out sick). mikey misses another big test and has to redo another year

CARMY! carmy is the shiny baby of the family that everyone teases will “make it out”. he doesn’t really know what it means but he sees how it makes his mother scoff and she’s always meaner to nat after

he loves being mikey’s little sidekick, always the one to get this and grab that and stir the sauce carmy don’t fuck up! he’s growing to be hungry for the noise and smell of the kitchen but he’s also little so uncle cicero ushers him out from the hot burners and sharp knives whenever he can

on the less busier hours of the day carmy draws or does homework at one of the tables. mostly he draws. he’s usually quiet but will share the rest of the seats when some customers ask are these seats taken?

mikey brings him in early one the morning and shows him how to braise meat. he does everything his big brother tells him to do and everything punctuates with a makes sense in his head and he’s little but he just gets it

carmy gets pulled into the line and next thing he knows he’s ten years old grabbing bread and butter and his beef and he’s got two wrapped sandwiches on a tray

richie tells him who it’s for and he brings the food out to a smiley dad and laughing daughter in their Sunday’s best

the girl has beads in her hair and they click and clack together when she turns her head to look at him when he says hello

he gives them their tray and stands next to richie behind the counter nervous and tries not to stare at the two people eating the food he made

he fails at the try-not-to-stare part but it’s okay because they get a bite in and the girl’s eyes widen, a little jokey to make her dad laugh but also a little real, and she’s nodding her head while she chews like she’s trying to process what she’s tasting and he hears her say “cool” and her dad asks “you like it?” and she says mmhm and takes another bite and carmy feels something full and bright growing in his chest

carmy grabs his sketchbook and color pencils under the register and draws an Italian beef sandwich over a checkered blue wrapper. he tries to remember everything mikey told him about braising beef and served au jus and writes it all down on the sides. at the end of it he tacks on the word “cool” and draws a cloud around it

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 18 - Picnic

Content includes: Ortho and reader, platonic friendship, no dialogue, Grim being Grim, kinda rushed (sorry)

Today, Ortho invited you to a picnic. 

It was a cute little thing for just the two of you. 

Lately, Ortho has been wanting to experience more human activities, even the things he can’t directly participate in. Obviously, Ortho can’t eat food, but he’s been wanting to go on a picnic for so long. 

At first, Ortho wanted Idia to come as well, but, as expected, he said no, which left just you to go with him. 

You planned on making something for the picnic, especially since you’d be the only one eating, but Ortho insisted that he make everything, claiming it would be part of the experience. That was fine with you, so all you had to do is show up. 

Ortho decided to have a picnic in the common area of the school since it has the most “picnic-y feel” to it, as he put it. He’s taking this so seriously, and it’s absolutely adorable. 

When you arrive at the picnic, everything is spread out like such a stereotypical picnic, and it makes you smile immediately. 

There’s the classic red-and-white checkered blanket, a basket you presume is full of food, and Ortho hovering gently next to the set-up. All of this is under the shade of a large tree, which is nice since it’s so bright outside. 

You walk up to him, not even trying to hide your smile. Ortho sees you and hovers just a bit higher, obviously excited to see you as well. 

He greets you, gesturing for you to sit down. You do, waiting for him to do the same. For the longest time, you had no clue Ortho could sit. It just wasn’t something you ever thought about, but you’re happy he can. Otherwise, this might be a bit awkward, with you sitting and him hovering. 

Once you’re both settled, Ortho pulls the basket towards him, excitedly telling you about all of the food he made. As he talks, he pulls out the food, which includes sandwiches, various fruits, cookies, and some drinks. Naturally, you’re not going to eat all of this in one go, but Ortho ensures you that he purposefully made extra so you can take some home to Grim. You’re sure Grim will be pleased at that. 

Now that all of the food is out, the picnic has officially commenced. As you snack on the various foods, Ortho talks about how excited he is to have you here. He also talks about having a bigger picnic with the rest of your friend group to see if they’ll like it as well. 

You also talk about Idia, as well as the rest of his dorm. Ortho loves talking about his dormmates, telling you about all of the drama he’s heard throughout the past couple weeks. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to be hearing about all of this, but it’s still fun. 

Once that conversation dies down, you mostly continue to talk about more random things: homework and class assignments you’ve been working on, funny stories you have to share, and other unimportant conversation. It’s fun and peaceful, and time practically flies by as you continue to snack. 

Soon, you realize just how late it’s become as you see the sun starting to set. You point this out to Ortho, who seems to deflate for a second at the thought of having to finish your picnic. 

He helps you pack up the leftover food, placing it neatly into the basket before handing it off to you. Then he pulls you in for a quick hug, thanking you for joining him. 

You respond in kind, telling him that you’re up for a picnic with him any time. 

Ortho picks up his blanket, and the two of you part ways. You take your time walking back to your dorm, enjoying your walk. 

The second you walk through your door, Grim immediately tackles you and begins digging through the basket as you laugh.