#i cant stop thinking about this i need to pick at her brain i need to study her in a lab

[maybebi47]

"please tell my family that their daugher is good" has got to be the most heartwreching thing i have ever heard a child say

[chelseeebe]

jinx

18+ mdni. no smut but eddie is a grade a asshole to poor reader. mentions of weed and alcohol throughout. eddie munson x fem reader.

a/n: first off, anon i am sooo sooooo sorry it has taken me this long to fulfill your request!! i absolutely loved this request and am absolutely honoured that you came to me for it<33 i hope i've done it justice and that you still care to read this:') side note, i've updated my masterlist as i have slacked a bit but everything should be on there now ^.^

love me some chelseeebe angst—imagine fuckboy!eddie plays at the hideout right like regularly. reader starts frequenting his show days bc she likes him obviously but he starts noticing something. every time she comes in, something goes wrong. either he messes up a chord or cant see to flirt properly therefore no one ends up warming his bed as of late or something of the sort

his immediate first thought is ‘she’s a jinx!!!’ bc what other explanation could there be in his boy brain??? so he asks her to stop coming in. she does and yet he continues to mess up bc all he can think abt is her.

itd be so sexy if u added a moment of realization/angry love confession where in the middle of him being like you’ve bewitched me or something!!! he realizes hes the one obsessed with her.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the party hums on in the background, a small group gathered outside to rob eddie blind, smoking away his entire supply. 

robin giggles nonsensically into steve’s shoulder, too high for her own good. 

“if you’re gonna smoke all my shit, the least you can do is come watch us tomorrow,” eddie had been nagging his friends to come down the hideout for months. they’d gathered a solid crowd now, not much but it was a start. 

robin groans, nancy and jonathan shift in their seats, steve can barely muster enough energy to reply and argyle snores. hardly enthusiastic about his dreams. 

“i’ll come,” you offer, bright-eyed as you smile politely at him from the floor. 

a friend of a friend, someone robin met in class and had dutifully introduced to the group. he didn’t know you well, nor had he ever really cared to. 

“i don’t think you’d like it, sweetheart” eddie retorts, flattered that you’d try and spare his feelings but he didn’t need your pity. 

“why? you can’t be that bad,” chuckling quietly to yourself. 

his eyes narrow, scoffing, “we’re not,” misunderstanding, or maybe just not caring to humour you back, “come if you want,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not as if any of his friends had offered to attend. 

“okay,” nodding along, “i will.” 

“alright,” turning his attention back to the embering joint glued to argyles fingers. 

who cares if you come? eddie certainly doesn’t. 

-

sure enough, the same couple dozen old drunks fill the bar, their glossy, zombie-like eyes stare back at him from the floor. he’d complain but beggars can’t be choosers and all that. 

they’re partway through the second song when something reflects in his eye, a low-cut sequinned top that would definitely look better on the floor of his van. 

it’s only when his eyes travel up that he realises it’s you who’s wearing that shirt, already looking straight back at him. a newfound look about you, thick lines of black line your eyes, worlds apart from the mousy girl who’d invited herself last night. 

“and we’re-,” he sings, an abrupt case of dry mouth as the next line struggles to come out, “we’re.. uh,” the entire song erased from his memory within seconds. 

he steps back from the mic, blinking rapidly in an attempt to trigger his voice though all he can see is you and that ridiculous top. 

gareth’s head whips round, still strumming along before picking up eddie’s slack, continuing the lyrics on his own, not without a damning glare in eddie’s direction. 

holy fuck. 

he’s just, taken aback, that’s all. shocked that you’d even bother to come, less so put the effort in to actually look the part too. 

his eyes don’t leave the back wall for the rest of the gig, practically stumbling through all of the songs as his head threatens to wander. trailing back to you only as they finish, walking off stage to down the harshest whisky the bar would allow. 

you saunter over a couple minutes later, while eddie tries his hardest not to stare right down your shirt. he’s not certain that he won’t choke on his words if you speak to him. 

“you were really good tonight,” you assure, smiling softly as his band mate turns to gawp. 

“uh, yeah.. thanks,” eddie fumbles, gripping the neck of his beer bottle, “thanks for coming.” 

there’s an aura surrounding you, like a wretched spell you’d evoked in him, turning him to a bumbling fool. 

“i’m gonna head out..” gesturing to the door, “see you around,” waving your fingers coyly at him before disappearing. 

his eyes linger at the door, wondering if maybe you’ll turn around and come back. not that he wants that. just curious as to why you’d come out just to see him play. 

“now who the hell was that?” jeff ogles, receiving a swift elbow to the ribs from eddie and a loud oof as he clutches his side. 

“a friend of a friend,” brushing him off, “don’t be weird about it,” jumping the gun to squash any sorts of ideas festering in his mind. 

“you’re the only one being weird about it,” jeff retorts, grabbing his beer and shuffling off. 

“i’m not being weird,” eddie calls from behind, “i’m not!” 

okay maybe he was being a little weird. 

who cares? 

definitely not eddie. 

-

this week, he feels more prepared to see you nodding along in the crowd, robin had joined you albeit looking less than impressed. 

eddie’s killing it, at least he thinks. avoiding looking anywhere in your direction, keeping his gaze on the stumbling drunk at the back instead. 

but the thoughts of you can’t help but creep into his mind, were you enjoying it? do you think he’s bad? why does he even care so much? 

his hand slides down the neck of the guitar, playing the wrong chord entirely, his fingers curating a mind of their own. 

fuck fuck fuck. 

why does this keep happening? 

gareth glares at him again, he had never been so frustrated with his idiot bandmate in his life. sure eddie liked to dick around in rehearsal but never on stage. 

if eddie ever wanted a career in music, he needed to get a monumental grip on himself. weird girls he barely knew should not have the capacity to ruin his career. 

after they clamber off stage, eddie makes a point of not going over to the two of you. no, you can come to him. 

though he wishes you’d just be a little faster at it if he’s honest. too busy squished into a booth with one of the younger regulars to care about him. 

heat rises in his chest, searing his cheeks a bright rouge, “-who is that?” gareth interrupts, bumping into his arm. 

“who’s who?” eddie coughs, clearing his throat as his eyes snap back. 

“that girl you’ve been staring at,” peering across the room to get a glimpse. 

“i’m not staring at anyone,” abruptly turning his head in the opposite direction, proving to himself that he wasn’t staring, not really. 

“you’re a liar,” gareth calls him on his bullshit immediately, “go talk to her! she’s hot,” scooting his friend along. 

“no she’s not,” you looked good tonight, he’d give you that, “can everyone please just stop being weird about this? first jeff- now you? honestly, i don’t get it,” working himself into a frenzy over what really was nothing. 

gareth’s eyes widen, scoffing at his melodramatic performance, “alright man.. calm down,” shaking his head in mild disgust. 

eddie was totally calm, you know, apart from his heart pounding in his chest. 

nothing major. 

-

filthy, downright pornographic sounds fill his cramped van, certain that it was rocking side to side with the utter obscenity happening in the back. 

chloe sits atop of his lap, tongues dancing around one another as she glides her hips back and forth. she was a regular, slightly older than eddie, at least he thinks, they’d made eyes a few times but only tonight had he gathered the courage to go and speak to her. 

any other time, eddie would be rock solid, pinning her down and fucking her into the dusty floor. today, it’s just not happening. 

his mind elsewhere, too preoccupied with nonsense to appreciate the opportunity at hand. 

he's thinking about you and the fact you’d left the bar without ever coming over to him tonight. what the fuck was that about? 

had he done something wrong? 

he breaks apart from her mouth, heaving into the tiny gap between them, “i don’t know what’s going on..” he chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his useless dick, “normally something happens by now..” 

she frowns, deep-set, showing her age more than before, “oh.” 

he reaches down, furiously palming his cock through his jeans. 

nothing. not even a twitch. 

he wants to curl up and die. never in his three years of actually getting laid has this ever happened. eddie got hard at the drop of a pin, he’d only have to think about boobs and his jeans would shift. 

so why the fuck wasn’t it working tonight?

“i’m gonna go,” chloe scowls, clambering over his legs, gathering her bag while not even attempting to hide her disappointment. 

eddie shoots up, pathetically crawling after her, desperate not to let her go. 

“it’s not me!” he screams out, watching helplessly as she crawls out of the van, “it’s you!”

no. 

“wait no! shit, that’s not what i meant,” peeking out of the van to find the empty parking lot, zero women to be found, “fuck sake.” 

left to wallow in his self-pity, alone, in the back of his dirty van. 

just as he deserved. 

if this was some karmic intervention, telling him to be a better person, he certainly wasn’t paying it any attention. 

-

another party meant another night of eddie trying to understand why the hell you had such an effect on him. 

it’s not even like you’re doing anything particularly riveting, sat with your drink in hand, nodding along to robin’s story. 

he can’t stand it. 

you have to go. 

maybe not like that, but he had to put some distance between you. there’s no way he could keep his sanity while you were still a constant in his life. 

eddie sidles over, feeling like the smartest guy in the room. he could do this, separate himself from you and your clutches and go back to playing as he once did. 

you smile upon him appearing, sickly and sweet. it makes his heart thump in the weirdest way. 

“oh.. hey,” playing this entirely nonchalantly, “i just thought i’d let you know that we’re not playing next week,” lying through his teeth, guilt ridden but really, it was necessary if he wanted to play a gig without fucking up the entire time. 

“oh,” sounding somewhat disappointed, “okay.. how come?” 

shit. 

he can’t think of a single valid reason as to why they wouldn’t be playing. 

“jeff’s sick.. real bad,” feeling even more guilty for lying about his friends health, wondering if he’s cursing jeff as you did him, “might even be a couple weeks off at this point.”

eddie was a terrible person. 

but so were you. 

bewitching him under some spell, forcing him to play terribly and embarrass himself in front of women 

you’ve jinxed him. a bad omen cursing him to play like a fucking amateur. that’s the only logical explanation his pea brain can conjure up anyway. 

that meant you had to stay away from the shows, from him preferably. 

he couldn’t understand why you have this effect on him, why your mere presence has him becoming a floundering fool. you don’t intimidate him, not even close. 

it’s almost as if he cares too much about what you think, to the extent that he overthinks it so hard that he fucks up. 

a curse that could only be broken with some distance between you. that way he could focus on the show instead of you and your doe eyes reflecting off of the stage lights. 

that’s what he’s praying for anyway. 

-

eddie despises wednesday’s. itching to get his classes over and done with so he can get his small taste of stardom on that tiny hideout stage. 

at some point over the last few weeks of you being an omnipotent presence in his life, he’d grown accustomed to crossing paths with you before the gig. 

crossing campus with your chin tucked down, arms wrapped tight around your books. typically only sharing a smile or a short nod. 

but this week you saunter over, resembling a frightened deer even more than usual. 

he pulls his headphone from his ear, anticipating whatever nonsensical, vaguely cute thing you were going to say. 

“hey,” he nods, a coy smile. 

even now you have his palms sweating, overthinking whether he should’ve said hi or hello instead. 

“you didn’t have to lie to me,” you start, brows furrowed, “it’s fine if you don’t want me to go to your gigs anymore, i don’t care,” a disappointed frown plaguing your normally cheerful face. “i thought i liked you eddie, really- but i don’t know anymore.. you’re not a good person.” 

you turn to walk off before he can even compute your words. 

oh shit. 

“wait!” he calls but it’s useless, “i didn’t- i wasn’t- fuck.”

it was unthinkably cruel, he didn’t think you’d ever find out. and maybe that was his problem, assuming you didn’t care enough to find out. 

guilt addles his chest, weighing heavy on his heart. for good reason too. 

eddie was an asshole. a true, grade-a asshole that wayne would positively despise him for. 

wait wait wait. 

you liked him? 

you liked him?

absolutely not. no way. that wasn’t what this was about.

or it’s not supposed to be. 

no, this was some adolescent feud, a confusing, one-sided, friendship that he couldn’t get a grip on. 

you didn’t like him. girls like you weren’t supposed to. 

-

it’s not at all surprising that he plays like absolute shit tonight too. 

guilt ridden for forcing your hand, for making you look at him like that. as if he were the worst person to walk the earth. 

shit, maybe he was. 

kind hearted people didn’t lie and deceive. no, kind hearted people came to gigs they obviously didn’t give a shit about. kind hearted people feigned interest in boring spiel about weed strains and whatever the fuck else eddie jabbered on about at parties. 

you, you were kind. kinder than he deserved. 

gareth slaps him harshly on the back the second they’re back behind the curtain, a scornful yet pitying scowl on his face, “look man,” he begins, “i dunno what’s going on with you but i don’t know how much longer they’re gonna let us play here if you keep playing like that.”

eddie sighs, because he knows this. he’s well aware that his performances have been lacklustre for weeks now. he just doesn’t really understand why. 

at first he thought it was just because you were there, a distance friend who would feed back to his friends about how good, or bad, he was. 

but that wasn’t it. 

you were there, and then you weren’t. and he still played like shit. 

somewhere entangled deep within his wretched heart, he thinks that maybe he just wanted to impress you. 

a nice girl, cares about her studies way more than he does, pretty too and you didn’t look at him like he was just some out of touch stoner with crazy dreams of his band getting big. 

you were polite, listening to his wacky stories and dreams of playing for thousands, in fact, you encouraged them, more than his friends ever had for sure. 

eddie’s not sure if, or how, he’ll ever be able to make amends for how he’s treated you. 

-

he’s making himself sick with worry. guilt wracking his brain. 

you don’t turn up that night, obviously. 

eddie’s eyes mindlessly search the crowd for any hint of you. his fingers failing to correspond with the rest of band, always playing a beat behind. 

you had infected him, ruined his once masterful skill to just a shell of what it once was. 

he doesn’t lay opportunity for the boys to speak to him again, rushing out of the bar as soon as his guitar is back in her case. 

there’s only one place he can think about going. 

a few months back, you’d hosted robin’s birthday party there and eddie had disgraced your bathroom with a girl he can’t even remember now. 

his fist bangs on the door, hoping the light in the upstairs window was you and not one of your roommates he’d have to shamefully apologise to. 

the orange light cascades over your face, peeking out from the barely cracked door with a frown that would scare any man off. 

“what’re you doing?” you spit, looking backwards in hopes he hadn’t woken the entire house up. 

“listen,” he sighs, “i’m real sorry about.. you know, lying to you,” his shoulders slumped over themselves, “but i just- i can’t fucking play when you’re there, can’t play when you’re not,” sounding utterly pathetic, begging for you to cure him from this sudden sickness. “i don’t know what to do anymore,” dragging his hand over his face. 

rightfully earning his spot as the worlds biggest fucking loser, stood on your doorstep begging for an answer. 

when he opens his eyes enough to look at you, you’re scowling back at him. nothing like how he had planned this situation in his head. 

he’d hoped that miraculously you’d understand, accept his apology and somehow still feel the same as you had. 

because that was it, really. 

too terrified to face the fact that he liked you too. 

somewhere in his heart of hearts he’d known it from the start. that’s why his heart fluttered when you’d volunteered to come or why he’d struggled to even touch anyone else. 

“what do you want me to say?” shrugging, “i won’t come back, that’s fine,” he wishes you’d just follow the script he’d curated for you. 

eddie doesn’t want you to stop coming, he never had. it’s killing him that you even believed that, twisting the knife in his chest further and further the more your bottom lip juts out and your eyes water. 

“actually, maybe it’s best if we don’t talk anymore,” you suggest, throwing him completely off kilter. 

woah. 

that wasn’t at all what he wanted nor was he trying to say. he just couldn’t gather the actual words he needed to express that to you. 

petrified that he’d admit to his feelings and you’d just turn around and laugh, how could someone like you ever like such a cruel man? 

“wait no, that’s not what i meant-,” bargaining with you for a little time to explain himself, though you definitely didn’t owe him any.

“-thanks for coming eddie, i’ll see you around,” flashing him a crestfallen smile before abruptly closing the door in his face. 

-

public humiliation was truly the only way eddie could think to make it up to you. 

well that and maybe a little big nudge from robin. 

he’d rather stupidly asked about you on saturday night, confused why you weren’t there alongside robin, who had very quickly got him in check. 

“why do you think dumbass?” she snapped, snarling her teeth at him, “you were an asshole and now she’s doesn’t want to come anymore,” her glare powerful and harsh, "i'd say you were lucky she didn't punch you in the face."

he’d deserve it. 

it had taken weeks of convincing to get you anywhere near the hideout again. not to mention the hundreds in free weed he’d had to bribe robin with to get her to help. 

you stand in a dark corner, hands folded against your chest, puzzled and irritated by robin’s incessant begging to get you here. 

“there’s someone here that i wanna apologise to,” his eyes don’t find you as easy this time, after weeks of missing your presence, he’s not used to you actually being in the crowd again, “if you know us, you know i can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, uh..” they find you, the lump only growing in his throat, “i’m sorry,” tunnel vision blocking out every other body in the room, “i’m really, really sorry.”

you blink, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights. it makes him a little bit nauseous to recall how dreadfully he’d treated you, how you deserved absolutely none of it. 

your gaze lowers, and eddie can’t decide how to take it. he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to never forgive him, but he also couldn’t take it if you didn’t. 

his voice cracks a little as he speaks, “this is.. uh, we’re corroded coffin,” stepping back from the mic to gather his thoughts before the drum comes crashing in. 

-

eddie plays the best he’s potentially ever played. 

a force overcoming him to prove that he truly wasn’t as much as a loser as he’s shown himself to be.  

usually, he couldn’t wait to be off that stage and to the bar but today he’s dreading it. 

knowing that you’re somewhere out there waiting for an explanation. 

or maybe you weren’t. he wouldn’t blame you if you’d decided to leave soon after he’d embarrassed himself with that shitty apology. 

gareth runs up behind him, using his shoulders to launch himself into the air, “holy shit! that was amazing!” the boy presses a slobbery kiss to his cheek before continuing, “whatever the hell you did, keep doing it because that was insane!” running off past eddie to grab his weekly complimentary beer. 

a sudden sickness fills his stomach, slyly hoping that he could slip out of here before anyone else noticed him. 

you stand across the bar, waiting to catch his eye with your lips curled only ever-so-slightly. 

eddie’s limbs go stiff, still entranced by your jinx. by you.

your eyes trail away to the door as his follow, shuffling your way through the bustling crowd. 

his legs carry him without a second thought, out into the cool night as his eyes frantically search for you. 

he finds you perched against the crumbling stone wall a few feet from the entrance, just far enough away from the prying eyes of the smoking patrons. 

“i didn’t think you’d ever come back here,” is all he can say, feet trailing along the gravel. 

the streetlight glistens orange from your eyes, staring up at him from your perch, “i didn’t want to,” your smile only growing as he nears, “robin made me.” 

“oh,” it wasn’t as if he didn’t know that or that he didn’t orchestrated the entire thing, it just felt odd to hear it from your mouth. 

“i’m glad i came,” you clarify, allowing him to finally release the breath held tight in his chest. 

eddie dares to move closer, sitting back on the brick just inches away, “yeah?” 

you nod, the great big smile he’d forced away making a return at last, “yeah.” 

suddenly the air feels thick, it was easier apologising on stage, those people didn’t know him, they didn’t care. but now, sat here in front of you, it feels like he’s swallowing knives. 

“i’m really sorry for making you feel that way,” though it sounds meaningless now the damage was done, “i don’t know if you still care about me at all, but i- um,” his throat runs dry, clamping his eyes shut. it felt easier that way, somehow, “i think the reason why i was such.. an asshole,” the light flickers through his eyelids again, deciding that you at least deserved to see him, “fuck,” he exclaims, staring back at your confused expression. 

“it’s okay,” soothing even now, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” a twinge of sadness running through your tone. 

“no, no i do,” eddie persists. he’d fumbled once, he couldn’t do it again. “shit man,” he sighs, “i’m trying to tell you that i like you too, or maybe not too, i know i was an ass and i don’t deserve your forgiveness-,” your lips cuts him off mid-mumble, surging forward to press them against his blathering ones. 

he has to blink a couple times, taking in whatever the fuck was happening to him. 

you pull back, disappointed that his brain had been to fuzzy to focus on kissing you back. too preoccupied with trying not to explode and paint you in red. 

“really eddie.. it’s okay,” returning to your usual reserved self while his brain still struggles to compute. 

“can we do that again?” he asks politely, keeping the bubbling excitement to a minimum. 

you laugh, a real, throaty laugh, something he hadn’t heard in weeks, “only if you promise to stop talking,” leaning in once more, the rigid wall suddenly feeling like it was about to collapse from underneath him. 

your soft, cherry-tinted lips press against his forehead a second time, allowing him to gather his brain from a pile of mush on the floor just enough to actually kiss you back. a tender hand reaching out to caress his stubbly cheek, sending shockwaves through his limbs. 

you’re interrupted again by a loud whoop from behind, robin clapping wildly as she emerges from the bar, “now you two have kissed and made up, can we go home now?” 

[ecstasyhighway]

gang wait hear me out hear me out… abby strap game goes CRAZYYYY likee….she will leave you so beyond fucked out like WAITTT IMMA COOK (its 5am and this is rotting my brain rn, i saw a vid on twt and i lost it a bit)

you have been face down in your pillows for hours, abby’s pace not even slowing down for a second. you’re rambling on about nothing you’re so cock drunk you cant even think straight. her hands on your waist, pulling you closer to her “baby uhmf ohhmygodd please” you hear her chuckle behind you “whats wrong huh? can’t take it? awww my poor baby” she pounds into you harder, the pornographic sounds of skin slapping and moans from both of you fill the room “y’wanna cum?” you cant even speak clearly the only thing that leaves your mouth are cries of agreement. “i need words babygirl” she grabs your hair to pull you up to her so she can hear you “yesyesyesyes please let me cum please” her pace stutters, the base of her strap continuously rubbing her sensitive clit “ufhm fuh-fuck, go ahead baby you can cum” she snakes one of her hands down to your clit to rub circles on it. your vision goes white and you swear you see stars as you cum, you get a sensation you haven’t gotten before that familiar knot in your stomach feels tighter, you feel abby stop and hear her breathing heavily, as shes coming down from her own orgasm “holy shit did i make you squirt oh fuck” she laughs slightly in astonishment. you cant even form a comprehensive thought, you are so beyond fucked out you can’t even respond to her. “oh baby c’mere” abby picks you up and takes you to the bathroom to clean you up so that you can go to sleep.

——————

GANGGG GANGG AM I A WHORE GANG I NEED HER HELP ME (this is terrible i am sleepy asf and its not proofread but i needed to put this shit out 🔥)

[jyoongim]

This isn't exactly a request but a thought that had been so heavy on my brain. Hellborn royalty reader x Alastor who's stronger than he is. I just can't stop thinking about it. Maybe even Goetia reader whew they are stronger and protect him from something and I just go FERAL at the thought.

Some background context:

The Ars Goetia are a royal dynasty of noble hellborn demons who serve as prophets, messengers, and observers of the mortal plane for the King of Hell. They are responsible for maintaining stability within the seven rings. They are highly knowledgeable in the heavens, society, and prophecies of all domains.

—————————————————————————————

The hotel was a wreck.

The Angels had made it their personal mission to eliminate those who resided in the hotel.

The Princess of Hell had acquired your assistance if things got shaky for them.

And OH things were shaking.

Alastor had took it upon himself to fight Adam, when you suggested you could of great help he turned you down. Stating that he would be able to handle the Angel himself.

But things were not looking good for the Radio Demon.

You admired the confidence he had, but the demon was in a sticky situation and you would be damned if anyone hurt YOUR demon.

You were fuming and it was showing.

You calmly walked through the fighting, every attack thrown your way didn’t even touch you as you quickly dispatched your attackers. 

You appeared in front of the injured deer in a cloud of smoke. 

“Hehe who the fuck are you?” Adam asked, but you ignored him as you checked on Alastor.

He was bleeding and weak, you placed your hands on his face, scowling softly “Oh Alastor my sweet. You did good my love but Ill take over from here” he tried to object, but with a wave of your hand, you dissolved him in mist to keep him safe.

You turned to Adam, who was smirking “Tch! You think you can take me? Ha! If your best couldn’t scratch me what thinks you can?”

You smiled, your body morphed into mist “who said he was our best?”

He attacked, swinging his axe and trying to bring it down on you. Your eyes glowed white and with a flick of the wrist he was frozen to the spot. You curled your fingers and watched as the Angel contorted in pain. You hissed “I am the judge and executioner and you, you arrogant pig have no authority here. Divine violence is my right for power belongs to those who take it.” At your words, the sky formed dark clouds and the realm shook.

Adam let out a scream as your magic crackled along his skin, searing pain riddling his body as you burned his wings and corrupted his every soul.

“YOU CANT DO THIS! I AM ADAM! THE FIRST MAN! YOU BITCH! NO NO NO NO!” Your mist enveloped his body and he slowly morphed to black as you took his life. You watched as his soul screeched and struggle. 

You pulled him towards him and smirked, sneering at him with sharp teeth

“Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord” 

And with a soft blow from your lips, he dispersed. His soul crying as you sent him to Limbo.

Hell shook as your magic rocked the cosmos.

The remaining Angels let out a cry as they were struck with pain, felt in their soul.

You were sucking their power and in an attempt to save themselves they retreated back to Heaven.

You morphed back to normal and your misty shadows revealed Alastor to you.

You picked up the red demon and nudged him with your nose, he grumbled ”Y-You didn’t have to intervene. I had it under control”

You hummed, a soft smile on your face a his stubbornness “completely but I wasn’t going to stand around when you clearly needed my help.”

Your face dropped to a pout “don’t tell me that me being stronger hurts your pride? You should be honored. A woman willing to protect her love is a powerful thing to behold”

Alastor sighed, relaxing against you, feeling the exhaustion of the battle overtake him.

You cooed at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Don’t worry I don’t think anything less of you. I think you’re the strongest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting”

The Radio Demon might have been a prideful soul, but it was you who was the strongest.

And really…he was ok with that fact.

[artdcnaldson]

also completely left field. my brain is working overtime today >:)

but i am like 100% sure that, eventually, down the line, much later in the story, pats sister will wear art down enough to agree to fuck her. just once!!! and then never again, just to shut her up, for good this time. he makes her promise that this will put an end to it (it will not).

BUT. but but but... in my mind, the only way he can justify this to himself, the only way he can let himself do this, is by insisting that he can only fuck your ass.

especially if shes a virgin. he cant be the one to do that. i truly believe he would feel too guilty to fuck your pussy. not that anyone had fucked your ass either, but to him it feels less intimate. and she would feel so conflicted, on one hand immensely disappointed she wouldnt get to feel him cum in her cunt :((( but on the other hand dying with excitement at getting to be so close to him, in such a special way :))))

that's my thought :)

-🐞

Had to take a walk, go stand on top of a hill and just breathe. Had to reflect on this, ponder it, savor it.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Patrick’s Sister!Reader x Art, toxic!Art, toxic relationship period tbh, anal sex, mild dubcon, degradation

It’s his breaking point, really. A way for him to submit to his desires and hold steadfast to his promise to Patrick that he wouldn’t fuck his sister. He assumes Patrick meant fuck in the biblical sense, not the… not how Art thinks about it.

“If it’ll shut you up, I’ll fuck you. Once, and that’s it.” He says, his grip tight on the steering wheel. Your eyes brighten, he sees you smile wide, like he’d just offered you the world on a platter. “But the only way I will is if I can fuck your ass.”

He expects you to say no, too. For you to draw the line, say that’s too mean and dirty. You’re picking at your nails, brows furrowed slightly.

You’re in his car, his brand new jeep. You look so delicate in his passenger’s seat— hands in your lap, blinking over at him shyly. “Have you ever done that with anyone else?” You ask.

The closest he’d gotten was putting a finger in a girl’s ass while he was eating her out. He’d asked his last girlfriend, but she ardently refused. Called him gross for asking. “Yeah,” he lies. “Plenty of times.”

It’s not fair, really. You want to feel him buried in your cunt, feel the drag and pull of each thrust, the press of his balls against you when he bottoms out. You want to feel him unload into you, to leave you warm and full and leaking his seed.

You swallow, then nod. “I want to,” you say, meeting his gaze. “I want to know what it feels like. Want you to show me.”

Jesus Christ, he considers wrapping the new car around a telephone pole and ending his misery.

It’s not even a day later that you’re beneath him on his bed as he stretches you out on his fingers. He doesn’t touch your cunt— it feels too intimate. He’s clinical, methodical about prepping you, even as you whine and grind down against his fingers, even as your cunt drips and adds to the slick, lubed mess.

You’re wriggling, keep slipping your hands between your legs to rub at your cunt.

“Stop it,” he says firmly.

You whine, put your hands at your sides again, let them scratch into the duvet. And god, your pussy is so wet, he’s so close he can smell your need, heady and intoxicating. He wants to lean in, lap at your cunt until he’s cleaned up the drenched mess you’ve made of yourself, but he refrains.

He works a third finger inside of you, watches you writhe, watches your cunt spasm around nothing. You need more, you’re fucking desperate for it.

“Fuck me,” you whine. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” You’re practically babbling. Eyes all watery, like you’ll start crying if he keeps you from what you want.

“You want me to fuck your ass that bad, huh?” He thrusts his fingers deeper, relishes in the feeling of your hole fluttering around the intrusion. “Such a fucking whore for me, aren’t you? You’d take anything I have to give.” He removes his fingers, spits onto your stretched, open hole. God, you’re so fucking pink inside, so soft and warm.

He manhandles you, turns you into all fours. You lay there and take it— let him position you how he needs. Ass arched in the air, face pressed into his pillow. You moan softly, because it smells like him— like his shampoo. You listen to him pushing down his sweats and feel the press of his tip against your asshole, you mouth at the pillow almost like you can taste him.

You gasp, all breathy and fucked when his cockhead sinks into you. “F-fuck, Art—“ you whimper, he sees your face screw up. You squeeze around him, your body fighting the intrusion as he continues to press into your tight hole. “A-Art, ah! Hurts.”

Your hand comes back, presses against his arm where it grips your waist. “S-sto— ah!” You’re drooling, crying into the pillow, leaving little wet spots. “F-fuck, Art— can’t, I can’t—“

“Fucking take it,” he groans, sinks in another inch. “You begged for it, didn’t you? I thought you’d take this cock in any hole I wanted?” He groans, feels like he might leave finger shaped bruises on your body. “Fuck, your ass is so tight. I think you like it. Such a fucking whore for it.”

A sob escapes you when he’s finally fully sheathed within you, and you whine at how full you feel. It aches— the way you’re stretched around him stings, makes your eyes water as he starts to move. You’re stretched around him so tight that he tugs at your rim uncomfortably.

“A-Art,” you cry out, lip wobbling. “Stop, stop, I can’t—“ He stops moving, you moan softly in relief.

“I thought I told you I was only fucking you this once,” he says. He lets your hair, but there’s no affection. His fingers tangle into it, grab it like a lead. “You tap out now, I’m fucking leaving, and this is all you’re getting. Don’t you want to make me cum? Be a good girl for me and let me drain my balls inside of you?”

He releases his grip on your hair, drops you back into the pillows. God, he’s so mean. He knows you’re not giving him up, that you want him more than anything. That you need his cum inside of you, that you’ve been fantasizing about it forever. You whine, pouting back at him. “Want it. Jus’ hurts.” You’re practically slurring.

Art rolls his eyes. “C’mon, you’re so fucking lubed up. I stretched you out plenty. It doesn’t fucking hurt, you’re just bitching so you can hear yourself.” He slams back into you, makes your toes curl, punches a desperate moan out of your lungs.

And he’s right— your cunt is gushing for it, leaking all messy down your thighs. You reach between your legs, rub at your swollen, neglected clit and moan weakly.

Maybe it’s a good hurt— like having your hair pulled, or when he’d slapped you across the face. Your eyes roll back as he finds a rhythm, thrusting into your tight channel as you try your best to relax around him.

Each thrust punches a weak moan from your lips, like his cock is bullying them out from the inside. He feels so big inside of you, stretching you deliciously. Your lip wobbles when you think about how badly you want him in your pussy, how badly you wanted him to fuck you the proper way.

“Look at you— fuck— taking my dick up your ass like a fucking slut.” You whine into the pillow. Drool soaks into the pillow, dampens your cheek. He releases his grip on your waist to paw at your ass— spreads your asscheeks wide so he can watch his cock disappear into your hole.

He moans, strangled and debauched. Your fingers move faster, rubbing at your clit as he pounds into you. You relish in the drag of his cock inside of you, in the stretch and ache of it. His balls press against your cunt with every thrust, you can practically hear the sticky sound of it.

“God, I’m gonna cum,” he groans. “You want it?”

You nod, drool smears against your cheek. “Want it, want it,” you whine.

“Make yourself cum, then,” he demands. “Fucking choke my dick.”

Your toes curl, legs kick as he keeps fucking you, as your attention to your clit gets overwhelming and you feel your body seize with pleasure.

Art groans as your walls squeeze around his cock, collapses on top of you as he humps desperately against you and spills hot into your ass. “Fuck! Fuckin’ take it—“

His weight crushes you as he lays completely boneless atop you. “Fuck,” he groans, muffled against your shoulder. “Can’t believe you let me do that. Most girls refuse, but not you.” He presses a kiss to your hot skin. “Fuckin’ slut for me.”

You whine pathetically when he pulls out, leaves your ass stretched and used. You pout. You want him to cuddle with you, to hold your naked body against him. But he just pulls his pants up and sits at his desk, opens his laptop and starts typing like you’re not even there.

Whatever. He’d want more, he always did, just like you.

[spookberry]

Shadow High series 3 my new beloved

I didnt even like most of em until i saw them in person, but the knowledge that they'll probably never be in the show has my brain in a "well its free realestate" kinda mood

Random list of information cuz ive been plotting out friend dynamics and background lore

-i like to pretend Rainbow High/Shadow High are actually Rainbow University/Shadow University cuz im in art college Right Now and i think it makes more sense with the whole dorm room situation. And also major makes more sense than focus IMO

-I changed Pinkie's major from film to just undeclared. I think she eventually does land on Film. She just has a lot of interests! Her dream has always been to one day direct films, and I think she comes to love them even more while developing ideas her with the group as she winds up in a Director/Producer position for most of them. BUT also every time she takes a class in a different program she cant help but fall in love with that way of making art too. So she has a hard time picking for a while and changed her major a couple times before landing on Film.

-Pinkie and Berrie bond a lot over a shared interest in vocal synths (tho Berrie knows more about them than her).

-The two made Pinkie's vtuber model together!

-the fandom wiki says PJ is from germany?? Idk how canon that is tbh but ive decided to embrace it i guess

-Rooney's canon name is Scarlet Rose, but i thought it was kinda lame especially when Rosie Redwood is also in this line sooo I renamed her! Stuck to the color name puns tho. Mar Rooney. Maroon. Haha

-Speaking on her though i love that shes from texas and likes writing scifi mystery type stuff and that being said i just Know deep in my bones that she was a Voltron Legendary Defender fan and Keith was/is 100% her favorite. She has a continued fondness for mothman specifically cuz of this.

-PJ and Rooney actually talk about fandom and shows/movies ALL the time. They dont have a ton of overlapping interests, but where they do? The two literally never shut up.

-Rosie is such a random character, like outside of her design she feels very poorly considered. So I scrapped the cosmetology thing and made her an illustrator instead! I think it works better with her love of making art in nature. I can see her being really into illustrated guide books. I think shes a bit snooty when it comes to art too. It takes being friends with other artists to become more open minded.

-I like the idea that Rosie is mainly friends with Rooney and Berrie ontop of that. The three of them often tag team storylines and how theyd interpret them into different mediums. Rosie will draw up a bunch of concept stuff while Rooney writes up a pitch bible and Berrie will start making shit move and throwing in her own ideas on camera angles and character designs.

-as an animation major Berrie was required to take a sound design class early on, which is where she met Oliver! Hes very laid back, and likes to go with the flow, but functions a little like the "mom" of the group. Often reminding the girls to take breaks, drink water, stop looking at their screens lest they get eye strain etc. He's multi-talented tbh but Music is his one true passion and he likes how the girls are always giving him collaboration opportunities.

-Oliver and Rosie like to talk sports a lot, both having played a bunch when they were younger and throughout high school.

-Lavender Lynn is Oliver's number one "person who needs constant reminders to settle down" she is in a constant buzz of trying to get the best shots and is utterly obsessed with the process of artistic documentation. Everything must be documented.

-the whole school loves her for this actually, she has a whole side gig where other students hire her to help photograph their projects. She saves everything she earns from this for her future dream plans to visit paris. She has it set really, many of the artists who she helps photograph now will remain steadfast clients of hers forever onward.

-PJ and Lynn actually took a print media class together at one point. Which didnt at the time spark an everlasting friendship. But it did give PJ an easier in to ask for Lynn's help documenting a project the group was working on. One of Lynn's first times photographing them work happened to fall on a day where Rosie had planned to trick everyone into going on a nature walk sans devices... Lynn wound up really appreciating this outing and decided to continue hanging around the group even after that project had ended.

[periludic]

" Distraction "

Qiu and Tamarack partners with the MC for a school project, they didn't get much done (It was the MCs fault)

📌 Pairing: Step 1 Qiu/Tamarack x GN!MC (Separate)

📌 Basically just Qiu and Tama admiring the MC

📌 OLNF brain rot, I'm making an AO3 fic of this next. (Thank you to whoever commented on my last post for this suggestion)

Qiu "Autumn" Lin:

Lets be real this kid needs a lot of help with school stuff, he'd probably be decently good in school if he tried but he doesn't

And to be extra real, he picks you every time to be his partner (he doesn't have a favorite he swears)

Mrs. Murray wouldn't allow that though, "give chance to others" she says. She deals with a lot of kids complaining that "Qiu always chooses (Name)!! Thats unfair" (god bless this woman) and Qiu frowns the saddest frown whenever this happens

But whenever Mrs. Murray does allow it, you bet that Qiu has the silliest, brightest, blinding smile ever stuck on his face

He likes you a normal amount (He lies to himself)

I don't think he'd be too serious about the project, but he does contribute and help you whenever he can

He doesn't pay much attention to it either, he's just happy to be there with you

But can you really blame him for spacing out mid-conversation when you tuck your hair prettily over your ear and how you look absolutely stunning when you're focused or when you have the cutest reaction ever at getting an answer right?

No. No you cant.

He pays more attention to you than your actual project, its cute but come on.

If you ask him why he's staring, he'll probably laugh it off and scold himself, thinking it was impolite of him to do so

But he's not afraid to admit the reason to why he was staring at you!

Its common sense, you're just too pretty. He can't help himself.

If you do start stressing out over the project however, he'll offer to do the rest for you

"I'll be more than happy to!!" he says, and you know. You just know that theres nothing inside that air head of his

It might take him a moment or two or three to understand the question but its worth it

He will do anything as long as its with you

Tamarack Baumann

No Mrs. Murray, she refuses to do the project if her very best friend isnt her partner

Tamarack would absolutely riot if Mrs. Murray got in the way of you being her partner for a project

She will be using her best puppy dog eyes and pleading voice thank you very much

Its against the law to object Tamarack, Mrs. Murray should've known better

Unlike a certain someone, Tamarack actually pays attention in class, and is good at memorizing without taking notes!

And unlike a certain someone, she's not as nice when it comes to not being your partner

Mrs. Murray allows it most of the time though, since you and Tamarack are new to the town and is still adjusting.

Most of the time.

Tamarack is very biased when it comes to you and everyone knows it (she has said so herself, in front of the entire class)

With Tamarack as your partner, you can rest easy!

She remembers your lessons well, and understands the questions fairly quickly

But sometimes she just can't help but to admire you. How can she not?

She's convinced that you came straight from a fairytale book, you're just so charming and adorable it's almost unfair!

Call her out on her behavior and she'll be more confused than a very confused person

Like. Yeah?? She's admiring you?? So what?? Its the logical thing to do? Its not her fault you're gorgeous?? Duh??

She'll give you a million reasons why you're so eye catching if you're not convinced

Please stop her.

I'm serious.

She'll go on and on for hours.

--

📌 sorry if my english grammar is off <3 english is not my first language

[carpettmuncher]

fic recs

aka, i read too much fic and need to share my favorites

gorging myself on you, still can't get enough (insatiable) - sobsicles

i love this so much. casual confessions from dean. insanely horny and conflicted cas. grocery store confessions <3

rating: M

how we're stuck in entropy - shineforthee

unfinished as of now, but worth it imo. sam makes a deal for cas' life and dean has to grapple with grief and mourning. amazing commentary on grief and dean's mindset, and great destiel

rating: E

don't stop, don't slow - hedderstheowl

trans cas and cas being so surprised by how good sex is with someone he loves

rating: E

love's such an old fashioned word. - hedderstheowl

same author as above bc i cant get enough of their fics. i LOVED this concept and characterization of cas. cas gets revived but doesnt believe hes out of the empty, and treats the world around him accordingly.

rating: E

ignite your bones - ilovehowyouletmefall

such powerful storytelling and writing. loved this front to cover. dean kills sam to get the world back- the remaining of tfw 2.0 grapple with the after effects. dean deals with grief, homophobia, and cas' confession.

rating: E

this whole trilogy but namely sam winchester, ally at law - alittleduck, amidsizedfrog

sam wants to be an ally soooo bad but dean refuses to be an acceptable queer. love this characterization so much

rating: T

the cheapest room in the house - biggaybenny

dean downloads grindr for cas to meet guys and gets jealous when cas talks to guys. angst with a happy ending

rating: E

psalm 40:2 - unicornpoe

cas time travels to meet dean pre-hell. pre and early seasons dean my beloved <3

rating: E

benedictions - kalmialatifolia

priest cas and writer dean. unfinished but i think about this fic at least 3x a week. if you enjoy fleabag, youll enjoy this fic. if you enjoy priest porn, youll enjoy this fic. cannot recommend this enough

rating: E

everyone knows the year doesnt stop until april- fleeceframe

first of all, go check out this author right now i love ALL their fics, but this one stuck with me. early seasons destiel. cas has so much love he doesnt know what to do with it. case fic

rating: M

gold in the edges of our vision - sewingnatural

i fucking love this so much. absolutely amazing religious imagery and symbolism. dean and cas share peaches on a roadtrip and are in love about it. fic that convinced me to go on a roadtrip this summer

rating: T

juxtaposition - rhinestoneangels

this fic is short and amazing. interesting prose, dean in hell, religious imagery. mwah love it

rating: G

where the heart is - goldenraeofsun

claire fic of all time if i do say so myself. claire time travels to s7 and hunts with dean before making her way home. i adore this one so much

rating: M

here, bullet, here - a_good_soldier

dean and his relationship with violence. contains pre series dean and post-canon destiel. named from a poem, this one hits you right in the heart

rating: T

use cinderblocks to build a stairway - pollutedstar

dean, sex work, ptsd, and self worth. heed the tags!! heavy fic but thoroughly enjoyable

rating: M

the soul burns brighter than the sun - wow_thisiswheremylifeis

post-canon fix it. cas escapes the empty and effectively breaks it, while telling everyone but dean that hes alive. they grapple with their relationship and fixing the empty. love it!!!

rating: E

let's take a drive - sobsicles

another sobsicles fic because theyre all 10s. jack reverts to baby age, cas is protective, dean and cas have a complicated relationship. amazing fic with amazing feels. best tag ever: maybe we're all a little scared and that's okay

rating: E

the eye is a mouth. - zeke21

dean, sex work, god, a study on the relationship between all three. fucking amazing fic, really nailed chuck's presence in this. go check out this authors other works too, they're all mind blowing

rating: E

asterism of an f-series ford pick up - disabled_dean

altered my brain chemistry a little bit i think. cas and dean go on a roadtrip and dean is exceptionally horny about it. dean is not normal about love and thats okay

rating: M

maybe i like pleasure pain - tothewillofthepeople

another one that wrecked me entirely. one of the best cas centric fics out there, this fic focuses on cas' recovery post-empty. lovely dialogue and imagery, just amazing all around

rating: M

wyoming, january 1996 - luulapants

THEE dean 17th birthday case. fucking amazing storytelling, takes johns journal entry and runs with it.

rating: T

between sex and death and trying to keep the kitchen clean - ftmsteverogers

jupernatural, kid jack, post-canon fix it with empty confession misunderstanding <3 love it so much, this author is so talented :)

rating: E

[crow-ur-beloved]

various jrwi headcanons because the worms in my brain (potential autism) wont shut up. no real plot spoilers except for one, but its marked :]

the suckening:

shilo is like vampire immunocompromised, which added to the pile of reasons his mom used to keep him inside the castle because she didnt want him to immediately get 37 different diseases and Die. (if vampires can have allergies then id like to think they can also get sick. i dont actually know if thats possible in the vtm system but i dont care they can in my heart)

genderfuck/genderpunk afab emizel. i feel like thats the only label he'd use, if he had to have one. i dont think hed label his sexuality because he wants to be an enigma. but he Definitely likes men.

bizley said in the qna something that can Only let me think of shilo as aromantic. maybe aro And ace... i dont remember what he said exactly aughhgh i wish i did...

shilo fidgets with his hands like all the time. his mother and uncle tried to get him to stop and sit still because it wasnt very princely and whatnot but my boy needs a fidget toy. i think hed go craaaazy with an infinity cube

i feel like me saying arthur bennett is a bisexual doesnt even count as a headcanon like i think thats just a given. i feel like itd be more surprising if i said i thought he was straight. all beautiful beautiful vampire men have to be lgbtq. its the law actually

arthur never officially broke up with mary. mans just Left one day without warning. probably left a note that said "sorry. -arthur" on it. i doubt he had it in him to say goodbye to her face or his reasoning for it (he thought hed inevitably hurt her because of what he is and what he did to the people he loved in the past, because bad luck seems to follow him everywhere... oughh he makes me ill). he definitely used finding a new lead on anya somewhere else in the country as a good reason to dip. at least, as good a reason as it couldve been for him.

maybe controversial but i 100% think arthur and magnus had a one-night stand at the beginning of their relationship, before magnus met jerome, and they never talked about it again and pretend it never happened. cannot explain how real this is to me.

riptide:

ftm chip who 100% innately knew he was a dude since the moment he could think. like when the black rose pirates picked him up, he got confused when they started referring to him as a girl at first. probably never got The Talk from them, so was Very confused when he hit puberty. Reuben reluctantly helped him steal to pay for top surgery.

since tritons live at the bottom of the ocean, they would have eyes that are far more sensitive to light to allow them to see better since little light gets all the way down there. gillion was Immediately blinded by the sun when he surfaced and still gets headaches from how bright it is in the oversea, but they've gotten better the longer he's been up there. tritons are built to adapt to all kinds of conditions, so his eyes have slowly been getting a darker bluish-purple the longer he spends above the ocean; they were originally more of a light blue-grey.

in tandem with the last one, chip thinks hes either going crazy or a bad friend because he Swears gill's eyecolor is different than last week but how could that be possible, thats not just something he can do, right? why would he be able to do that???

if gillion gets knocked onto his back without warning he does that thing that sharks do where they get paralyzed for a bit when they get flipped upside down. its scary because he can see everything but cant do anything. he also definitely forgot to tell chip and jay about this fact and scared the Shit out of them the first time it happened around them.

gillion can also change his sex like some fish can. its the reason he can lay eggs. i think this makes it safe to say genderfluid/nonbinary/generally trans gillion tidestrider is highly possible and even probable in this headcanon. what im saying is t4t fish n chips.

not to headcanon all my favs as trans but i cant help it. it is the highest honor i can bestow upon them. anyways. mtf jay ferin. ava always knew and was the first person jay came out to. jay was also 100% named jayson after her father and went by jay most of her life anyway as a nickname and just decided to stick with it instead of picking anything else. may was always very openly-supportive of her. jayson was as supportive as a generally strict, overbearing, unsupportive-in-everything father can be. jay totally came out to him and the first thing he said to her was something like, "as long as it doesnt interfere with your navy training," and may promptly kicked him under the table and made him say something nice.

kiras trans too btw. she came out before jay and helped jay discover she was trans. and that she liked women.

(spoilers for 109 and beyond) chip can't entirely remember what he looks like. everytime he focuses on the illusion of hiding that hes practically just a skeleton now, it changes just a bit. freckles in the wrong places, the wrong shade of orange for his flame tattoos, too much light in his eyes, too much muscle on his arms. jay notices it but cant bring herself to say anything. she knows the illusion is meant to keep everyone from worrying, but, everytime she sees something off about it, she just remembers what he really looks like underneath, and that somehow feels worse.

blood in the bayou:

all these bitches gay as hell. kian is pan. rands got a lot of internalized homophobia. rolan probably too. its the 80s, man.

apotheosis (haven't finished it yet so idk how true these'll be lol):

agender rumi. godbless.

also rumis a theater kid. he got the lead in every musical he auditioned for because he could literally just shapeshift. theyd make up a new identity and appearance for every role and get to know everyone on the cast and then mysteriously drop off the face of the planet as that person when the production was over and nobody would know it was them.

peter has actually tried All Kinds of things. weed. yoga. multilevel marketing schemes. you name it, big chance hes done it at least once and didnt like it. he doesnt know how he ends up in the situations to try it, either.

[elstoy]

about that last pierced!ellie ask its finneee im sure anything you would have written would be amazing 💗💗 I think ur drabbles depict the perfect amount of detail in such a smooth way and r very easy to visualize, little stories that latch onto my mind n just cannot stop thinking abt them hours after the first read !! honestly ur kinda one of my role models when it comes down to some smutty vocabulary and writing drabbles in general ౨ৎ love you lots.

on that note i cant stop thinking abt the one sucking her strap drabble u did a few days ago like ughh she would get actually so lost and sex–drunken watching you suck her off. maybe even when the reader has the dom role 🙏🙏

i am????? u r literally one of the best if not THE best ellie writer on here oh my god i’m so flattered!! ur storytelling and smut are top notch like an actual novel wtf <3

to ur point though… giving subtop ellie strap head is making my mind so fuzzy.

teasing her relentlessly while crouching down to get on ur knees… perhaps being a tad mean and teasing with it as well since u know she likes it when ur a little evil. example a would be making fun of her sweet blush when you pull her plastic shaft out of her jeans. a sweet coo of “such a pretty dick, els” would definitely make her knees buck. and funny thing is she knows it’s not technically a part of her (infact you picked it out yourself) but when you talk about it like it is… arghhh her brain quite literally melts and her hole starts fluttering. with a murmur of “awwh, am i making you nervous? hm?”, she’d be so scared to let her guard, her “tough guy” act down, that she’d probably chuckle nervously and avert her gaze to the side, muttering a lowly “aha, no”. so you’d have to (quite literally) peel her guard down by peeling her jeans and her boxers off of her thighs, which would leave them hung loosely below her little rump. as soon as you purse your lips and have her cock kiss your bottom one, she’d be bucking her hips forward like a dog in heat. you’d coo gently, “betcha’ wanna see it down my throat” which makes her heart and clit thump like crazy. n she’d be quiet as fuck and keep her wordcount down to a zero except for those harsh shaky breaths and grunts. you’d slide her dick in your mouth and down your throat and pinch her thighs and asscheeks whenever she fails eye contact cause her lids keep on closing. she’d probably get off on the sounds of your gags and your teary eyes and cum while holding her breath and having a tight grip on ur scalp. ends up fucking the shit out of ur throat cuz it makes her strap base bump against her achy clit. i know i said she wouldn’t be talking cuz too shy but when she orgasms she definitely grunts “suck. it.” acting like she’s in charge or something :/.

the type to run to the gc and message “srry couldn’t respond just got head” and delete it immediately after.

i need to write a longer detailed drabble sigh.

[s0apmactav1sh]

More crappy thoughs coming from me.

Teenage!Simon Riley edition. With Bestfriend older brother troupe >:} (Reader is aged around 15 to 23.)

^ by this I mean simon from the ages 12 to around 20 and these are just silly things from my brain nothing got to do with his character in the game.

-Teenage!Simon who became bestfriends with your little brother pretty quick. The two stuck to each others hips. They were a do or die type friendship. If one done something the other had to follow. And that just meant you were often forced to go with them to make sure neither got hurt because god forbid that happens.

-Teenage!Simon whos only a three years younger than you and yet you still treat him like a little kid each time you see him. Acting as if hes more like your little brother than anything else. And it just made sense that when he got picked on it was you who was getting suspended from school for beating up his bullies.

Teenage!Simon who started coming over less and less after your brother got a girlfriend. Meaning your mam was pestering your brother and you on why her favourite adopted son hadnt been over in a while. To which you cant answer and neither can your brother because hes a little shit.

-cut to your 18th. Finally able to drink and guess who shows up at the door right before midnight completely drenched. Yuppp Simon. No one was home and you couldnt just leave him out in the rain. So you took him in, giving him clothes your brother refused to wear in replace of his wet ones because you also dont want to get killed over wet floors by your mam

-Teenage!Simon who finally realises that you were technically the 'better' brother. In the sense you actually stuck up for him, made sure he was fine and wasnt being bothered. And you even looked after him each time he showed up knocking on your window because he ran away from his house. You done more than your brother ever did.

-Simon who tries confessing to you when hes 16 and your 19. Only to be rejected by you because you didnt want to be accused of anything and because it was wrong from him to even think of you that way (internalized homophobia guys it happens :( to the best of us anyways)

-Simon who has to quite literallu chase you to get you to talk to him during school. You may not talk to him anymore but you still made sure he wasnt being picked on. He was still your brothers bestfriend. And even if he didnt need it, youd given yourself the role of protecting him from bullies in and out of school.

-You who lands yourself in jail after beating a 18 year old for the simple reason on the fact he was trying to get simon jumped. And word got around to you quickly even if you no longer were in school and were a second year in college. But hey it wasnt your fault he didnt think before he spoke.

-you who got out exactly 3 days before simon turned 18, meaning youd be around to celebrate with him (that was if you ever stopped getting phone calls from your mam giving out over you being locked away for 6 months.)

-Simon who makes the joke that he's technically legal and its not wrong for the two of you to date. But even then you fele icky over the fact that he may be wasting time on you when he could find someone way better.

-you who only accepts to go out with him because he seemed so determined. You guys spending the next 2 years together until he tells you he thinks he wants to join the military and see where that goes.

-you who are fully with him and even help him enlist. Not knowing that you'd lose touch only a year after he was gone. And then for it to carry on for the next 18 years. Until you spot him back in town with 3 other men you have no idea who they are but hey he's back and safe.

-Simon who doesnt remember a thing about his home town other than the fact that he still had a home to return to even if it wasnt his. And is all too surprised to see its not your mam or brother living there. Its you. And everything is awkward even when you tell him is find for him to stay. All he needed to do was stay away from your room and the garage during certain hours during the day.

-Price, Gaz and Soap being able to just sense the tension between the two of you. But not being able to pinpoint what it is exactly about you that has simon so on edge. Until it finally clicks when they see the pin board hanging in the hallway with a picture of you simon and another boy that looks like a younger version of yourself all standing at the bank of a river.

-them trying to stick ye in rooms together to get ye to reconnect but the flame that was once there is gone. And not an ember that remains to spark it up again. Even if you try.

I havent writen in so long and i needed to write something to get over my writers block so have this and enjoy. Ima try write a small fic to go along with this.

[wheatnoodle]

Robin notices everything when it comes to Steve. Even the things he doesn’t notice about himself.

It’s at Family Video during a slow shift when she walks to where he’s bent over the counter. Her fingers card through his hair and grip, tugging the locks in her fist.

“Your hair’s getting long,” she comments, extending the o in long, “so pretty.”

When he’d usually bat her hand away with a remark of needing a cut, he stays quiet. Instead, she watches as his cheeks tint pink and the corners of his mouth twitch in a smile.

“You should keep growing it.” She says and smiles, tucking strands behind his ears. He nods with a muffled ‘yeah’, chewing on his lower lip.

So he keeps growing it. It touches his shoulders and he keeps playing with it, tucking it behind his ears, tying it back. Max uses his head to teach El how to braid.

He’s sleeping over Robin’s house one night and he’s sitting in the floor next to her desk chair, watching close in fascination as she paints her nails under her light. She glances at him every now and then with a little smile, finishing up her nails as quick as she can. Her smile grows when she turns in her seat to face him.

“Okay, gimme your hands. You’re turn,” she says and his face burns red, stuttering over excuses but Robin’s already grabbed his shaking hand and rested it in her lap. “Do you want this color or a different one?”

“Uh…I thought this one was kinda nice…” Steve says and he reaches on to the desk to pluck a bottle of baby blue polish from her small collection.

“That’s gonna be so pretty with your skin, babe.” Robin gasps and grabs it from his hand, shaking the bottle and cracking it open. When she finishes painting, she blows on his nails, admiring her work. “Well? What do you think?”

Steve takes one of his hands back. He holds it out in front of him, staring at the blue paint on his finger tips. It’s takes a few moments but soon he’s smiling brighter than Robin’s ever seen. He looks at her, his pupils blown with a giddiness she’s grown accustomed to and finds rubbing off on herself. She giggles with him and holds his hands, admiring his nails.

“They’re so pretty,” Steve says, looking between his nails and Robin’s face with such awe she can’t help but reach out and tuck his hair back.

“That’s because you’re so pretty!” She smiles at him, her brain working in overtime. She’s never seen him so happy. Dustin tries to get their attention over the walkie but Robin’s quick to shoot him down with an excuse of “girls night” and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes light up at her words. She keeps painting his nails for him and it takes forever for him to stop hiding his hands at work.

Months pass and Robin takes him out to the mall with her because she needs new clothes for when her aunts and uncles come to visit and she needs to look like a “normal” girl. They’re looking at skirts and Robin hates it more than anything, she’s grimacing at every bit of flowy fabric. But Steve? He’s holding them so delicately in his hands, feeling the material and appreciating the colors.

Robin stands next to him, props her chin on his shoulder and asks “do you wanna try it on?”

Steve’s like a deer caught in headlights. He drops the skirt on the ground with a gasp, crouches down to pick up the hanger, hits his head on the rack as he stands back up. “No, no, Robin. No. I cant.” And he’s shaking his head and hanging the skirt back up but he can’t get the hook on the rack. His hands shake and she can tell he’s getting frustrated so she takes the hanger from his grip and links their arms at the elbow.

“C’mon. Let’s go try it on,” she says and drags him to the dressing room. It takes a bit of work but finally Robin convinces him and she’s tugging his jeans off his ankles and pulling the black skirt up his legs. She looks at him through the mirror while she smooths the material over his legs. It hugs his hips and his butt, makes his waist look oh so skinny and feminine. The fabric flows gently over the tops of his thighs, making his long legs longer, showing off the muscle definition in his calves and thick thighs. “Oh yeah. We’re buying this.”

She gives Steve no room to argue, not like he could with how he’s staring at himself. And if they take an extra ten minutes in the dressing room because he can’t help but start crying, that’s between them and the mirror. Robin carries the skirt to the register, looking at the jewelry hanging by the cashier.

“Ooo, do you think the ruby one or the diamond necklace would look nicer on their skin? We’ve never bought them jewelry before, just haven’t had time to think about it,” Robin says to the cashier and steps out of the way, motioning to Steve behind her. His…their…cheeks are stained pink and they’re staring at Robin with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. She just told this cashier the skirt isn’t for her and then asked about jewelry to go with it.

The cashier looks at them, squints her eyes and nods. “The ruby. Definitely.”

Robin switches to purely androgynous pronouns for the next few years and nobody really questions the gradual changes in Steve. How their hair is always braided and done all nice, why their nails are always changing colors. Dustin even compliments the flick of eyeliner that Nancy has drawn on their lash line. Points to his own eye and says “that stuff on your face? That’s good shit”

Robin and Steve move away together because of course they do. They end up on the west coast, finding solace in the acceptance that is the SoCal gay community. They haven’t seen the kids or anyone from Hawkins in a couple of years, what with them all going off to college and the threat of the end of the world at bay.

Finally, they can invite everyone out for the holidays. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Eleven, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, even Argyle who had gone to Indiana that one time with Jonathan and wouldn’t even consider leaving him behind there and just stayed. They all fly out and it’s this big reunion at their house where they’re all told to dress nice so they can take cute pictures.

Robin is in a new deep maroon pantsuit, her lipstick the same shade as her outfit. She’s greeting the guests and calls on her lovely housemate to leave the kitchen and come say hello.

Out walks Stevie in a dress that matches Robin’s suit, her nails red and her hair curled with the top half of her long locks tied in a ponytail. Everyone’s quick to jump on her, complimenting her look and asking how she’s been. It’s an easy switch for them from Steve to Stevie and referring to her with she/her pronouns just feels right. It takes Mike a second before Nancy smacks him on the arm and he greets his old babysitter with a hug and tells her he likes her perfume. Though in his head, all he’s thinking is “holy shit hot guy from hometown is now hot girl with boobies don’t look at boobies don’t look at boobies don’t look at boobies don’t look-“

Eddie’s just standing there in SHOCK. His whole world has just been flipped upside down (no pun intended). He was positive he was gay, hell, he was crushing on Steve back when he lived in Hawkins. But now he’s staring at this girl, at Stevie, and he’s just blown away. King Steve the Hair Harrington is the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on and oh no, is that his crush coming back to him? With a vengeance??

He walks over to say hello, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles in a way he can brush off as joking if it steps too far, but she’s looking at him with her big brown eyes and a little smile on her face and tucks her hair behind her ear. And her nose scrunches when she giggles and fuck, Eddie’s whipped.

Robin’s been watching them all night, how Eddie sits with a hand on her knee and pulls her seat out at the table.

So there really isn’t any surprise when she wakes up the next morning and Eddie still hasn’t left.

But then again, neither has Nancy😏

[allloudontheeasternfront]

Everything at Once Part 5

Dieter Hellstrom x Original Fem Character

Btw this is very short! (Part 6 will be up soon as well!!!)

Sorry that this is later and shittier than expected. I had some personal issues to take care of and I kind of straight up procrastinated lmao. Hopefully y'all like it :)))

Warnings: antisemitism, cursing, some implied angst and smut, Dieter is a sad boi, Hans is meanie lol. Again, I do not support Nazis in any shape or form. This is just for the Inglourious Basterds fandom stuff.

.

A few days past and Camille still hasn't heard from Dieter.

Did he forget about her?

Was he hurt?

Did he leave her?

Awful and heartwrenching thoughts clouded Camille's brain. She sat on her rocking chair with a book in her hand, and a self-crocheted blanket on her lap.

Fuck... she thought. Why do I keep thinking about him?

Her mind was flooded with the passion he shared the other night. What would happen if he kept going? Would he be nice?

Her mind then went to the emblems and symbols that scattered that man's uniform. What if he found out? What would he do?

The thought of what Nazis were capable of made her world stop.

Her throat went as dry as sand and tears prickled in her eyes.

Feeling worthless and hopeless, she curled herself in a ball on the chair and weeped.

Why does my first love have to my enemy? She thought.

Eventually the sun would set, people would sleep peacefully and the world would stop turning.

The same evening, Dieter was sat in his god forsaken Gestapo office, going over all the shitty personnel paperwork Hans has so gratefully gifted him.

Asshole.

The personnel paperwork included the Jews and Communists living in the arrondissement in the last ten years that Dieter needs to find and eventually arrest.

Angrily, Dieter flipped over one person's file so roughly it cut the middle of his thumb and index finger.

"Shittttt!" Dieter exclaimed putting the wound to his mouth.

His eyes fell to the paperwork.

The face seemed familiar.

Though in black and white, the long curly hair was a lighter shade, the skin pale, dark lips, light eyes...light doe eyes...

His mind panicked.

Riddled with anxiety, he looked at the person's name...

No.

It cant be.

Robichaux. Camille.

Age 21.

Hair- blonde

Eyes- blue

le septième, Paris.

Owner of Boulangerie François

Jew.

No communist allegations to date.

Father- in custody

Mother- deceased

Unknown family members - possible hiding/ deceased

Other information unavailable.

Dieter's heart was beating out of his chest at a rapid speed. If it was possible, his skin became paler. Nausea and anxiety filled his body.

His thin fingers traced the picture of the young baker... tears threatening to spill.

Stupid waitress...

A part of him wanted to prove himself to Landa. To prove he isnt some dickhead officer who is capable of being promoted. To prove he isnt some desk jockey.

But a very real part of him sunk heavily in his heart, wanted to hide Camille..to shield her from world. Make her safe.

He looked at the giant swatiska flag in the corner of the room. It mocked him. It displayed nothing but hatred and cowardness.

What can I do to protect her?

I am nothing but a uniform controlled by a pompous asshole.

Footsteps woke Dieter out of his saddened daydream. He stood up straight with his arm raised in a salute welcoming his higher up.

Landa...

"So...how is paperwork going along, Dieter old boy?" Hans asked smarmy. "Dont tell you fell asleep again?"

It was one time...

"Negative sir. The missing citizens have been traced." Dieter replied emotionless.

Hans walked over slowly to his desk and saw Camille's documents on full display. He picked it up and sighed.

"Our little baker girl, eh? Who knew he was a dirty jew? Her cafe was so clean." Hans said condescendingly.

Dieter tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

Hans looked at him dead in the face.

"Find her tomorrow."

"But Sir..."

"Do not undermine my authority Hellstrom. I gave you an order."

Dieter sighed...

"Do you understand?" The evil stone cold look on Hans's face was chilling.

"Ja, Standartenführer."

"Gut. Keep working. You're not off until you're done." Hand left the room.

Dieter collapsed in his chair with a loud sigh escaping his lips.

He took Camille's documents in his hands and scared at her face. Studying it.

"I'm sorry..."

He downed his glass of whiskey in one go.

He drifted off to the night were Camille was under him, completely submitted. Dirty thoughts clouded his brain space. Her quiet sighs, her soft skin below his fingers, her eyes looking into his...his uniform pants got tight all of a sudden.

He looked at the documents once more. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

What if I lie to Landa...everyone lies to the prick so why cant I?

A plan was now in progress for Hellstrom.

He folded up Camilles paper and secretly stuck them in this coat pocket. He grabbed the main "Jew" paper and found her name.

After rummaging through his drawers he found white ink. Carefully and surely erasing Camilles name until there was nothing but a clear white line above the black ink. He blew on the paper to dry for safe measurement. Dieter smiled at himself, feeling accomplished.

But a real feel of crippling guilt creeped in him...

To be continued...

@whore4waltz @rurivu @xoxocillian @fridaycanbesadsometimes @racheljo47 @whitechoc135 @officerh4t @blueberrypancakesworld @hanslandasstrudel @gentlemenashortviewbacktothepast

(Lemme know if u wanna be tagged.)

[fantasy-relax]

Brain worms

Kidnap Bela and Cassandra so they and Dani could have a sister day.(Threaten to burn down the theater and the student council)

Tell Cassandra how a bitch she have been with her sisters.

Make Bela ditch her student council responsibilities. (kidnapping is in the table)

Did you broke into Cassandra room, drug her coffee, tied her up and trap her in a far away room?

Yes

You did something similar with Bela?

Also yes.

Now you have two pissed off girls with Amazonian genes looking at you with something that make your brain tickle.

Cassandra looked like she was thinking about stabbing you and watch your blood stain the floor.

Bela don't looked that mad but you have that feeling that if you got close enough she will tear out your throat with her teeth the tape in her mouth be damned.

So you keep distance.

"well I think you are curious about the reason that you are here, is pretty simple, I need a tiny Itty bitty favour from you two. Are you following me?"

They keep glaring at you.

"Great! I just need to make clear the consequences of denying or not doing it all. Nothing too big I'm just gonna burn down the theater and do the same thing with the student council room. Data, paperwork, costumes, scenarios everything to ashes"

Their eyes grow wide for moment and they glared you with more fury.

"Good with that out of the table, let's go to business. The thing I'm need from you is.....

You pause and slowly pick something from your back because you enjoy the drama and messing with them.

"TO HANG OUT WITH YOUR LITTLE SISTER, MISS DANIELA *SKATE ROAR* DIMITRESCU !"

You throw confetti at their shocked and confused face.

"go shopping, have dinner together, watch a movie, spa time whatever you want to do, I don't give a fuck just pass time with her"

They still looked very confused.

"So, Cass you have two weeks to clean your schedule and Bela you have three, I think that's enough time, fail to comply and well things will become difficult."

They were staring at you trying to make sense of your actions. You take Cassandra tape off.

"what the fuck do you think you are doing, look I have a lot of things to do so the show is perfect, so stop your stupid game-

"of course, Miss everything is about me is mad, what, cant live without people kissing your ass? Oh Cassandra you are so pretty so talented sleep with me ooh muack muack.

Did your sisters are so worthless, so pathetic that they don't deserve to shine in the stage of your life? Did they even have a role that have more that one line? Did you even care?.

If tomorrow you lost your voice, your beauty, everything who you think will be beside your hospital bed, ready to help, ready to give everything so you can get a little better, ready to sacrifice a piece of them to the devil for you to live? "

You put the tape back before she can answer you. You look at Bela.

"I don't think I need to say anything you are a very smart girl, you should know what you hadn't done. Because that's the thing miss president, of everything you had done what is what you haven't bother to do? Let me give you a clue: is not paperwork.

"Good Talk" you loosen the knot and start running away. You hear them struggling but you already are too far from them.

The next week is a game of where is wally, you disappeared. Your roommates said that you were dealing with some of family emergency and you will be back in less than a month.

The two weeks pass and half of the curtain in the theater had burned in a mysterious fire. The next day a quarter of the chairs are covered with gasoline and the costumes are missing, a broken clock is in Cassandra dressing room.

After nothing else is found she ask Dani to watch legally blonde with her, to relax she says.

They laugh, Daniela recalls the time that they will annoy everyone by repeating the lines of the movie.

"So you were in the shower"

"what? Is hard?"

How long have that been? Cassandra can't remember. She falls asleep, wake up scared and disoriented.

"Is okay Cass, I got you, I got you, I'm here with you"

The same words she had said the first time that her nightmares started. Daniela always insisted on having sleepovers because she don't wanted to leave her big sister alone. God, how long have been?

The next day the costumes are found in perfect condition, a cup of Cassandra favorite mix of coffee is there with a note: "Good job, little star"

She have movie nights every three days after that.

The three weeks passed, ashes is what rest of the paperwork in the council, the data in the computers are corrupted, a lot things have to be rewritten, firms and petitions have to be collected again, is hell for everyone.

A broken clock above the table is mocking Bela.

She ask Dani to have dinner with her.

"I just don't want to think about it right now" Is the answer that she gives to ease the worry of her little sister.

Daniela nods still worried, she takes a bites and she freezes, tears falls of her eyes. Bela look at her with light worry.

"are you okay?,is to spicy? Salty?"

Daniela laughs cleaning her tears and eating with joy "Is perfect! Is just have been years since I eat it! Yours have always been my favorite!"

Bela open her mouth to correct her, but Daniela is right, Is been years since Bela cooked for her, Is been years since she had cooked for Cassandra.

She had no heart but she swear that is breaking in her chest at this revelation.

The next day the paperwork is in the table, with hard drives full of the data lost. There is still work to do.

She delegates and go back to her room.

There is a book, some scented candles and a note: "I'm proud of you, pretty girl"

They have dinner every two days.

The month ends.

The three dimitrescus are discussing about what movie watch a new tradition for them.

The door opens and you appear, you smile at them, Daniela gets up of the couch hugging you and asking about your family.

"Things are better now, we drifted but we can always come back to open arms."

You look at the two girls in the couch, you don't know if they were grateful or angry, you don't care Daniela was happy and when she go back with them, they looked happy too.

The twenty four loops that take you to achieve it were worthy.

(Learning how to hack, schedules, patrons, take a lot of time, practice and patience, you may had burn down alcina art room to relax a couple of times)

You wish them happiness in this loop.

[tea-and-secrets]

would it be ok to ask that this one is posted soon? i could use reassurance about it if thats alright? things are just... really hard.

im trying to come to terms with the fact that im going to be disabled for the rest of my life. i accept that im disabled *now,* but i have a degenerative disease, its not going to just stop being there. its going to keep getting worse slowly over time.

its especially hard because... even now i cant do my favorite hobby, rockhounding, because i cant bend without risking falling, i cant get on the ground to pick things up and/or dig because i wouldnt be able to get up on my own, and i cant navigate most off-road areas where the rocks im interested in are most often found.

i also desperately want to be a geologist. but i wanted more than anything to be doing fieldwork, like going out and taking samples from various areas, making maps of what could be found where based on my samples... that sort of thing. but ill never be able to do it and i have to come to terms with that.

it will get bad enough that i will need a wheelchair at some point in my life too. like, at some point within the next five to ten years.

ill also never be able to pick people up again. my whole life ive prided myself in picking people i love up during hugs, spinning them around, that sort of thing. i especially loved picking up my best friend.

they understand that i cant do that anymore and theyve never expressed sadness over it, but i cant help but think about how delighted theyve always been about me picking them up and spinning or wiggling them during hugs, and how they used to ask multiple times each hangout to be picked up and hugged.

and even if they arent upset about it, *i* am. i want to be able to do what i used to be able to. but i cant. and i never will again.

its just hard, knowing ill never be able to reach my dream career, continue my favorite outdoor hobby, continue giving love to my friends in the ways i like to... theres so much i can no longer do, and so much ill never be able to do again.

its just really hard. i dont want to be this way. but i am and i always will be, and it will get worse even if i do things like meds and physical therapy. those would just delay the collapse of my disease.

im just sad. i dont want to have to come to terms with it. but i have to or else im setting myself up for even more grief.

and its all because my mom wouldnt get me treated when i was injured in my teenage years. that injury going untreated for so long is what caused my degenerative disease to start so early. my mom has it too but she didnt start developing it until her fourties.

and then for years after my injury when talking about my back pain she just kept saying it was because im fat and that it would stop hurting if i lost weight.

which of course sparked the eating disorder i had previously recovered from.

which ive been struggling with now again for years because of that. but i was getting better again.

until now. because my body hurts too bad to get out of bed often enough to eat a healthy amount so im rapidly losing weight and my brain is saying i have to keep going and going.

and, the wheelchair thing... all my friends live and are going to live places with a lot of stairs. and *i* live somewhere with a lot of stairs too. and the doorframes in all these places arent wide enough for a wheelchair, nor are the bathrooms large enough.

its just all so hard to think about. i hate it. i want to get better and heal like a normal person would, not be in pain constantly and get worse like my body is going to.

thank you for listening. sorry for how long this is.

if i could get reassurance in tags or replies that would be really nice. this is all just so hard and i only have a few people i can confide in about it.

<3

[bibibi-tchx]

lil man doin arts and crafts with his cgs🥹

yes yes anon on it🫡

first thing first: he will be having some sort of plastic contraption placed onto whatever hes wearing, bcus the tjd cgs dont trust lil man to not get him self slathered with glue or glitter or paint or literally anything

rhea definitely tries to make it be an actual garbage bag cut out (i dont trust yall who didnt have a garbage bag used ) but damian does manage to wrangle one of his cooking aprons on to him, but dominik is still sitting there with his arms crossed, not at all impressed with seeing “worlds best papi” on his chest with his own hands printed on to it

because theres no way that dominik didnt make him an apron with his painted on handprints for fathers day. no way in hell. he so would have.

but alas, with the promise of paints and glitter in front of him, dominik gets used to it and pounces at all of the activities in front of him, proudly showing his caregivers every bit of art progress that he makes

“why are we letting him loose on like…10 canvases again?” from damian, watching dominik dip some cut out potatoes onto paint thats been mixed with about 5 other colours by this point- sure, hes having an absolute blast watching his baby boy explore all of the colours, and just exactly how much glitter is too much before either caregiver notices that hes pouring it onto the floor

“birthday season, damian. look at this.” rhea smiling, her arms on dominiks shoulders as hes having so so much fun.

“look, papi! is you! i maded papi!” dominik says, a very very giggly baby proudly showing damian a picture that does not at all look like damian, with the paint still dripping down onto the table, which is also covered with plastic sheets to try and prevent anything getting covered with more dominik arts and crafts related carnage

“oh wow! such an artist!” damian is right back to cheering on dominik, wincing at all of the random paint blobs that have worked their way onto dominiks face, fingers, and probably his hair too

then, it happens.

dominik is a very, very oral focused baby. like, more than is probably normal. but, they didnt wanna risk dominik’s favourite dark blue pacifier getting dropped into any sort of the paint, so he has pretty much nothing to gum on.

however, rhea and damian genuinely, yet so foolishly, believed that all of the different stimulating activities would distract dominik from the need to oral soothe. but, alas, after a while, dominik’s brain short circuits and the moment that his caregivers are distracted, talking to each other about random adult things that dominik has a very little mind to even think to pay attention to, he accidentally sticks his hand into his mouth and is introduced to the taste of paint and glitter that

well

it dont taste too nice.

his hand yanks itself out of his mouth, and before anyone even can clock on to whats happened, dominik has his tongue out and is just sobbing- he is utterly DISGUSTED that the paint didnt taste like purple! why didnt it taste like the colour? why!!!

poor rhea and damian are in caregiver panic mode, damian rushing to fill up a plastic sippy cup of water for dominik to swish into the sink, and rhea is taking the apron off about as quick as she can so as to not get any texture-related complaints from her purple-mouthed baby, picking him up from the chair and rocking him as shes walking over to damian

then in comes the battle of getting dominik to understand that he cant swallow the water, and he has to swish-gurgle-spit it out; it only baffled his mind increasingly more so.

like, hes snotty and sobbing, but hes mad still, “why? why? it icky! why? why?”

half why because, papi, why in gods name is he not allowed to drink the water? why????

other half because, once again, why didnt the purple paint taste purple??????

“you have to, niñito. you gotta swish- like mouthwash!” damian is desperate, trying so hard to stop dominik from tasting more of the paint than he already is

“mhm, you heard papi, baby blue. you can do this, little man. just like mouthwash. c’mon, dom.” rhea is holding the sippy cup to his lips, and he finally gives in

he still dont even get what hes done wrong, in all honesty. so hes all pouty about it, glaring daggers into his caregivers worry-riddled faces whilst he swishes and spits, “why it no taste purple?”

damian and rhea lose their shits giggling at dominik, which only furthers the angry tot dom further, “what? dilo otra vez, pequeño.”

“is no purple!” as though it cldnt make any more sense

rhea is CACKLING. damian is SHOOK. dominik is LIVID.

thank u anon !!