#like it is objectively ridiculous in so many ways

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Tourist trap (Stan Pines x fem!reader)

minors dni

Stan is very fond of tourists who believe his stories.

tags: nsfw, smut, p in v, fingering, riding, desk sex, semi-public, praise, sir kink, rough sex

You shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wide-eyed and excited, as you clutched your little Mystery Shack brochure in your hand. It was all crumpled from being folded and unfolded too many times, but you couldn’t stop reading all the incredible things advertised on it.

"See the world-famous Sasquatch Skull up close! Touch the Alien Artifacts nobody else believes in!" 

You believed it all. Every last word. After all, you’re such a lover of the unknown.

Your group of tourists shuffles around you, mostly adults who looks really unimpressed, grumbling about the entrance fee. You’re the only one whose eyes are wide with excitement and who literally trembles from excitement to see everything the Shack have to offer. And that’s exactly what catches his eye.

Stan Pines stands in the doorway, leaning on his cane, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. You don’t notice how his eyes scans over you, how he takes in every little detail: the innocent excitement, the way you’re practically throwing your money at the gift shop already and that naive, gullible glow about you. You practically skip forward, not noticing how Stan’s eyes linger on you. He can tell right away — you aren’t just any tourist. No, you’re special. Too trustful. Sweet. The kind that believe every ridiculous thing he’d ever put on display.

And isn’t that just. . . adorable?

The tour starts and you trail behind him eagerly, eyes wide and shining as he tells stories about the various "creatures" and "relics" in the Shack. Part of you is convinced that every word is true, that you’re standing in the presence of real magic, real mystery. 

Stan notices you hanging on his every word and it makes something stir in him. The way your lips parts just a little, these little “wow” and “ohh” you make, the way your eyes follow his every move. Meanwhile other tourists roll their eyes or sigh, bored out of their minds, but not you. You’re his favorite kind of visitor — the kind that made his job fun

"So," Stan starts, turning to you with a glint in his eye as the rest of the group wanders off, "what do you think of this, doll? Pretty impressive, huh?"

You nod enthusiastically, clutching your bag of over-priced trinkets and souvenirs. "It’s amazing, sir! i can’t believe im seeing all this in real life! i mean, is the Sasquatch skull really real? And the alien artifacts, are they, like, actually from space?!"

"Well, aren’t you just the cutest little tourist I’ve ever seen,” he smiles, leaning slightly towards you and letting out a chuckle “most people come in here and they laugh it off. Say it’s all fake, but not you. You really believe in this, don’t you?”

“Yeah! ive always dreamed of visiting such a cool place! thank you, sir, it’ll remain a good memory,” you giggle.

“Ohh, sweetheart, if you’re such a fan, maybe i can show you some of the mysteries we keep hidden from the average tourists.” he absolutely loves how wide-eyed and trusting you are. You really believe every word he tells you?

Your eyes light up, completely oblivious to the hungry look in his eyes. "Really? You’d do that?"

Stan rubs his chin, pretending to think it over, though the grin never left his face. “Hmm,” he looks at you for a couple more seconds before he tells you you. “for you, dear? Anything.”

He leads you away from the main part of the Shack, down a hallway lined with dusty old portraits and broken light fixtures. You don’t even notice how quiet it is now as the rest of the tour group far behind. All you can think about was the excitement bubbling inside you, the thrill of seeing something “exclusive.”

Stan opens a creaky door at the end of the hall and motions for you to step inside. You eagerly obey, stepping into a dimly lit room filled with more strange objects, things that weren’t part of the normal tour. At least, that’s what Stan told you.

He closes the door behind him with a soft click, the two of you now alone and you never really noticed how close he suddenly got, his hand resting on your lower back as he guides you further into the room, its cluttered with strange artifacts, most of which hadn’t made it to the main display.

You’re buzzing with excitement as you look around at the dusty shelves. "Wow!" you gasped, wide-eyed. “What’s that? and that?! oh my gosh, is that a real shrunken head?!”

Stan chuckles, settling himself down in an old chair near desk before patting his lap. “Why don’t you come here, doll? I’ll give you a closer look.” there was something in his voice. . . something that should alert you, but you’re too caught up in your excitement to notice it.

Without a second thought, you plop yourself down on his lap, leaning forward to inspect the nearest artifact, still firing off a barrage of questions. "What’s this one? and where did you get it? oh god, is it really cursed?!"

Stan grunts, adjusting you a bit closer as his hands settled on your hips. He leans forward slightly, his mouth near your ear as he begins to explain some ridiculous story about the origins of the objects. But you barely notice how his fingers start to slip lower, just lightly brushing along the hem of your skirt.

You keep talking, completely oblivious, your words spilling out in an excited rush. “This is so cool! i can’t believe no one else gets to see this! i-“ your voice hitches as Stan’s hand slides further up your thigh, his thick fingers grazing the edge of your panties.

He continues talking as if nothing happens. “This here is an ancient artifact from South America. Supposedly cursed, but, eh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” he pauses, his hand gently pressing against the softness of your thigh as he keeps you pinned on his lap.

Your breath caught in your throat, but you tried to focus on his words, nodding as you squirmed a little. “W-wow, that’s- that’s so cool!” your voice breathy as Stan’s fingers brushes lightly along the edge of your panties, teasing you.

“Yeah, real cool, huh?” he asks you, still as if nothing happened, his other hand sliding up your waist to grip your side, so you wouldn’t move that much. His fingers dip lower, grazing the fabric of your panties before slipping just beneath it. “aaand this one here,” he continues, “it’s said to have belonged to an ancient tribe. Powerful stuff.”

You can barely process what he’s saying, your mind blank as his fingers lightly tease along your slit, collecting the wetness that was beginning to pool there. You shift in his lap, trying to stifle the soft whimper that escape your lips, your legs pressing together.

“Something wrong, doll?” he asks in a playful, no, mocking tone, while his fingers now lightly caressing your clit. “You seem a little distracted. Thought you wanted to hear about all these mysteries*.”

“I- I do!” you stutter. “It’s just- s-sir!”

“Just what?” Stan interrupts, his fingers now slipping lower, pressing firmly against your entrance. His other hand grips your waist, holding you firmly in place as you instinctively try to buck your hips against his hand.

You whine softly, barely able to form a coherent sentence. "I-I just. . . oh god-“

Stan smirks. “You’re so cute, sweetheart,” he nuzzles your neck, his fingers now teasing your entrance, pushing just the tip of one finger inside your throbbing cunt. “asking all these questions while sitting in my lap like a good little girl.”

You sob, your hips rocking against his hand without even realizing it. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsing beneath you, pressing against your ass, but Stan keeps his focus on you, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wetness, never stopping his stories.

“This one is said to have special. . . powers. Like it can make someone go crazy with just one touch.” he chuckles, his finger curling inside you, hitting that spot that made you gasp and clench around him.

Your head spinning, your body aching with need, completely at his mercy as he tease and play with you, all while still pretending like it was just another tour.

Stan’s smirk widens as he feels you trembling in his lap, the way you quietly moan, your face and body both hot. He keeps his voice steady, still saying some ridiculous story about the artifacts, but his fingers never stops their teasing.

“So, this piece here was said to be used in rituals. Uhh, something about unlocking a person’s deepest desires, makin’ ’em lose all sense of control.” its not difficult for him to imagine these false stories, he is an experienced lier after all. You try to listen, try to understand what he’s saying, but that’s just impossible to do as he presses his thumb harder against your needy bud, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. You whimper, barely able to focus on his words. Your body burning, every nerve ending tingling as his rough fingers stroke and tease your throbbing pussy. Your hips rock against his hand, desperate for more, but you’re too shy, too embarrassed to ask for it.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? you were askin’ so many questions before, now you’re all quiet?” his thumb circles your clit a little bit faster and your body jolts from pleasure, a soft cry escaping your lips before you could stop it.

“I’m just-“ you stammer, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you squirm in his lap. “I c-can’t, sir, can’t think”

He chuckles, now pushing two thick fingers deep inside your tight, clenching cunt. You gasp and your back arch against him as he starts to pump them slowly, curling and scissoring his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble. What a lovely sounds you’re making.

“Aww you poor thing, so lost, huh? cant even think straight, can ya?”

You whimper, biting your lip as you try to stifle the noises that are spilling out of you, but it’s useless. Your hips are moving on their own, grinding against his hand as you clung to his shirt, “sir” and “please” leaving your mouth as his fingers stretch you so well.

“Just relax, doll, I’ll take care of you. Just listen to me.” his fingers pumped harder inside your pulsing pussy. “you wanted a tour, right?”

You nodded weakly, not even listening him, unable to focus on anything but the way his fingers were fucking into you, the wet sounds of your dripping pussy filling the small room. His thick digits stretch you open just good, making you lose your mind.

“So this here,” he continued, his voice still calm despite the way you were practically writhing in his lap, “was used by an ancient tribe. Supposedly, they thought it could help them communicate with the gods, but I think it’s more useful for somethin’ else. . . don’t you, sweetheart?”

You could only sob in response, your body trembling as his fingers drove deeper, stretching your tight walls, his thumb never leaving your poor sensitive clit, your muscles clenching around his fingers as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re such a good girl,” he praises as he watches you squirm in his lap, your wetness coating his fingers. “so cute, all worked up like this. You gonna cum for me, doll?” you nod , your hips bucking against his hand, his fingers thrusting deeper inside your aching cunt. Stan laughs at that pathetic sight, his fingers moving faster now, fucking you hard and deep, your pussy clenching around his digits. “Go on, princess, cum on my fingers.” you exhale when Stan finally let you finish. With a strangled cry, your body shakes, your cunt clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you. Your eyes rolled and brain fucking melted as you shudder in his lap.

Stan grinned, watching you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl, such a good little doll for me.”

His hand rests on your breast, first slowly and gently caressing it. His fingers find your nipple and give it a light squeeze, drawing another sound from you. Stan smirks to himself as he feels you shaking in his lap, your body responding to every little touch he gave you. His fingers still buried deep inside you, moving at a slow, teasing pace that had you on edge, desperate for more. You can barely sit still, squirming against him, your breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps.

His fingers curling inside you again, and you whimper, your hips jerking in response. “You want somethin’, don’t you? you gotta tell me what you need, doll.”

Your mind foggy, every nerve in your body on fire as his fingers keep working you over, drawing soft, desperate noises from your parted lips. You could barely think straight, let alone put together a proper sentence. “pl-please, sir”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your struggle. “Please what, sweetheart? you gotta use your words if you want somethin’ from me.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself together, but it’s damn impossible with the way his big fingers thrusting inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. You can feel the heat building inside you again, that desperate, aching need, but of something bigger than just his fingers. You need to be filled, to have your brains fucked out. “I need more. . .”

“More, baby? you want my fingers to go faster? is that what you mean?”

You shake your head frantically, your whole body aching for something else. “No, I need- need your cock, sir-“

He raise his eyebrows in a fake surprise. “Oh, is that what you’ve been tryin’ to say this whole time? you’re beggin’ for it now, huh? pretty little thing, all desperate for me to fuck you?”

You whimper softly, your hips moving on their own, trying to push down on his hand for more friction, more pressure, but he holds you still, keeping you right where he wanted you. “Please, sir,” you whisper and nearly cry because of horrible emptiness you’re feeling. “please just fuck me, sir, i need you!”

“You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous today, sweetheart,” he tells you, his hand finally pulling away from your dripping slit. “don’t say i never gave you nothin’.”

Before you can even process whats happening, Stan shifts you in his lap, his strong hands lifting your hips and positioning you right above his length. You can feel his cock, already hard and throbbing beneath you, pressing up against your soaked entrance, and your whole body tense, your breath catching in your throat.

Stan’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he lines himself up with your glistening cunt, spreading your folds. “You ready for it, doll?” he asks. “this what you’ve been beggin’ for?”

You nod quickly, fuck enough of questions, you thought. “Yes,” you whisper. “yes yes yes, ple-“ but before you can even finish, he slowly pushes inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. You immediately gasp at the new sensation, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as your body adjusts to the sudden fullness. Oh god, it’s thick, so hard, filling you completely and you can feel every inch of him throbbing inside you, every vein, it feels so hot.

Stan huffs out, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck, you’re tight. like you were made for this, doll.”

You whimper softly, holding on him, your body trembling as you try to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It’s almost too much, the way he stretches you so perfectly, the way he fills you completely. You can barely breathe.

Stan gives you a moment to adjust. his cock pulsing inside you. “There we go,” he mutters watching your brows furrowing. “Just like that. . . you’re doin’ so good, babygirl.”

You moan again, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, and you feel him twitch inside you,. “I. . . nhhah, s-sir”

He leans towards you and kisses your forehead, his hands guiding your hips to start moving, slowly at first. “Go on, princess. Ride me, let me see how bad you want it.”

You bite your lip nervously as you’ve never been in this pose before, you slowly start to move, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down onto his cock. It feels incredible, the way his cock stretches you open, hitting all sweet spots inside you. You feel the tension building inside you again, that same desperate, aching need, and you whimper again and again, your hips moving faster as your cunt tightening around him.

Stan’s eyes locks with yours as he guides your movements, kissing your neck. “That’s it, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good, yesss, such a good girl, ridin’ me like that.”

You cry out at his words, what a sweet praise, your body moving on its own now, your hips grinding down against him, taking him deeper with each thrust. You can barely think, barely breathe, the pleasure overwhelming your senses, your mind clouded, you can’t even maintain the eye contact.

Stan’s hands moves to your waist, holding you steady as he starts thrusting up into you, meeting your movements with deep, powerful thrusts. You whine, your hands gripping onto his shoulders for support as he fucks you, your mouth hangs open while he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust, he holds you so tightly, squeezing your body while you ride him.

You gasp. “I- I’m gonna-“

“Go ahead, doll, cum for me, let me feel it.”

Your body tensed, your walls clenching around his cock as your orgasm hits you hard. Your body shaking, trembling in his lap as you cumming, rambling pleas leave your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing sweetly against your cervix. Stan groans, his grip on your waist tightening as he thrusts up into you harder, deeper, drawing out your pleasure as long as he can. “That’s it, such a good girl, baby. . . so fuckin’ tight.”

You fall on his chest, still shaking, your mind still spinning from the intensity of it all. You can feel him still throbbing inside you, still hard, and you whimper softly, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, he’s clearly not planning on pulling out.

After you manage to get your breathing back to normal at least a little you feel his hands still all over you, roughly dragging you up and laying you out on the old wooden table. Your legs tremble, spread wide as he stares down at you, taking in the sight like you’re his prize, his fucking reward.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” grin crosses his lips as he grabs your thighs, pulling you right to the edge of the table before slamming his cock back inside your pussy, forcing a cry from your throat. Your body jolts at the sudden penetration, and you moan again, legs wrapping around his waist as he starts pounding into you again. Hard. Rough. Fast. There’s not a drop of mercy in his movements, he's not holding back, fucking you like you're just a thing for him to use. Your sweet moans and that pathetic "sl-slow down!" sound like music to his ears.

His hands all over you, squeezing, groping, touching. He grabs your breasts, kneading them, pinching your nipples through your shirt so hard you whimper, arching your back off the table. He groans at that, leaning in close, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “Fuck, you feel heavenly, baby, can’t get enough of this sweet little cunt.”

His fingers finds your clit, rubbing circles around it, teasing you until you can’t stop the pathetic whines spilling from your lips. He keeps fucking you harder, his hips slamming against yours, the table creaking under the weight of it all. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with your gasps, your moans, your begs and his grunts as he’s pounding into you like he was starving for it.

“Look at you,” he looks down at your flushed, wrecked body, his hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. “Such a fucking good girl for me, huh? letting me use this pretty little pussy however I want.”

You can’t really form words, can’t do anything but take it. Your so brain fucked, body burning, you’re so close you can’t think straight. He’s rough, fast, his fingers rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you higher, higher, until you can’t hold back anymore. You cum hard, again, your pussy squeezing his cock well.

But Stan doesn’t stop. He just keeps going, fucking you right through it, ruining your pussy, even harder now, his hips snaps into you, faster, rougher, and you can feel the slick mess between your thighs, the obscene sound of it only making it filthier. You're choking on your moans.

“Ugh, gonna cum inside you, doll,” he groans. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, you want that? you want me to fucking fill you up?”

You nod frantically, too far gone to care about anything else, and with one last, hard thrust, he buries himself so deep, his cock pulsing as he finishes inside you. You feel how warm it is, his cum filling you up, spilling out of you as he keeps thrusting, riding out his high.

Finally, he slows down, pulling out with a groan, and you collapse back on the table, spent, utterly wrecked. Youre literally shaking, panting, his cum dripping out of your used pussy onto the wood below. Stan stands there, catching his breath, looking down at you and all that dirty mess, what a beautiful sight: your legs trembling, your body marked with his touch and his cum leaking from between your thighs.

He leans over. “you know, guess I'll give you a discount for that pretty face of yours.”

[flannelshirtandjeans]

I designed my own Monster High ghoul doll! She is the daughter of Näkki, a water spirit that can camouflage itself as rock or driftwood and drowns people who are careless in water. She is Finnish, loves metal music and coffee, and cares deeply about sustainable fishing practices and protecting lakes and ponds and rivers. Her pet is a skeletal seal pup, who once died in fishermen's nets, but was brought to a new life by Lumme's sadness and anger. She's a part of the metal club at MH, but doesn't play or sing, more just enjoys listening to it and bonding with her fellow students. She my seem quiet and reserved, but won't stop talking if you get to know her properly!

Some design notes under cut:

Also I'd like to add design notes to this:

- fishing nets and hooks & related things are a big design note in her doll because she did almost die by drowning stuck in a fishing net, and she has Feelings about questionable fishing practices.

- there's a permanent tangle of netting around her neck to represent the way she technically died

- her purse is a glass float

- her hair is a light ashy blonde-brown - dirt road brown as we call it in Finland, which is a common hair color in Finland, with accents of darker brown, green, and blue.

- blue eyes, cloudy iris, dark eye whites. Netting eye-shine

- her base skin tone is a light grey, but she has rocky camouflage and birch-tree camouflage on her limbs, ears, and forehead to represent her camouflage/shapechanging abilities

- Luunappi is a skeletal "kuutti", baby northern ringed seal, who died of getting stuck in nets, and Lumme's anger and sadness at the injustice magically revived it

- frappe bc Finns drink ridiculous amounts if coffee per capita but I didn't want to give her straight up black coffee

- Karelian boo-strie is a Karelian pastry but made to look like a fish with big teeth

- her object heel is a fishing loom stone, a type of a fishing weight

- her phone is not an iCasket bc she's _Finnish_ and obvs reps Nokia instead. Hence Noakiasket

- sea glass bottle bottom sunglasses. Seaglass is frosty so that's a little funny for sunglasses but listen.

- the CD is "Nemo" by _Nightfish_ which is obviously a silly riff on Nightwish, which is a Finnish metal band, and she loves metal (Finland has so many metal bands. We just really love metal.). I decided on a CD-player purely for nostalgic reasons.

- "Land of a thousand lake monsters" refers to Finlnd, and you can see the shape of Finland on the cover. Finland is called the land of a thousand lakes, so we probably have a lot of lake monsters too.

- yellow comes a little out of nowhere for this, but I like raincoat yellow and it reminds me of fishers, so I can have it.

[yardsards]

I feel "“I am who I am; I can’t give you more than that”, would be a cool line, if it wasn't a deadbeat absentee parent making a cheap excuse for not apologizing to their child for their abuse and instead irresponsibly giving them a weapon, than sending them off to be someone else's problem. All things considered, the cat is a very amoral character.

yeah no the cat is deeply morally questionable and that's what fascinates me about her

[wildernessuntothemselves]

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yangyang laughing/giggling in dream plan

[babieken]

:))))

[biceratops7]

Hmm, any one notice this?

So a while ago I wrote a meta about how Stede isn’t actually oblivious to his feelings towards Ed, but I was really thinking about it at work today and honestly… Ed kind of is.

I know the running joke of Stede effortlessly being the most objectively romantic human on planet earth by sheer accident is hilarious. But did you ever notice that when Stede is actually trying to be loving on purpose, Ed Doesn’t Get it?

We can assume Stede started the ritual of them eating breakfast together cause it’s his quarters, and the intimacy of that clearly went right over Ed’s head cause he let Jack invade it without a second thought. Like Ed, honey, did the implications of a man wanting to eat breakfast with you and only you every single day seriously never register to you??

Stede plans a whole day together “treasure hunting” when he wants Ed to stay. The whole “you wear fine things well” business was pure oblivion on Stede’s part, this is him flirting. And he’s trying so hilariously hard to make this ridiculous idea work, but Ed still doesn’t get the gist. Luckily Lucius I-need-a-fucking-raise- Spriggs is here to save the day and clue Ed in to what at least this particular situation means.

…Which makes the gears clearly turning in Ed’s head during this moment absolutely precious and hilarious. Now he knows what’s going on. He sees that Stede’s excited to spend time with him in particular just like Saint Augustine, I mean a bunch more people will be also there this time, but still! And I’m sorry but the brief look of pure “Ed Exe has stopped working” when apparently the first thing Stede could think of was swimming is criminally underrated.

And look at that fond little smile it turns into, Ed knows full well that man has some cute little swim costume squirreled away somewhere ready to go after pulling an entire safari outfit out of his ass last episode 😂

Ok ok enough teasing Ed, back to the point.

We know Ed’s love language is physical touch. Stede’s is less talked about but I firmly believe his is quality time. Just like Ed is touch starved, Stede is shown to desperately want someone to spend time with. But that’s not just the way he receives love, it’s how he gives love too.

His way of saying I love you is to say “That’s me.” He’s the one who breaks the lock on his own bathroom door. He’ll be the one to show up at Ed’s restaurant and look at all the little Knick knacks in his gift shop on a slow day. Stede wants to be the one who’s there, who makes sure Ed doesn’t have to cry by himself, or feel silly about something he loves and put a lot of work into. He doesn’t ever want someone so deeply precious to him feeling as unwanted and isolated as he did back in Barabados.

And Ed ends up missing so many of these intentional gestures. Which isn’t a BAD thing, I just love all the little intricacies of two people with completely different love languages somehow making it work anyway. I think that’s part of why the bathtub scene felt so profoundly intimate, because their love languages work seamlessly together and they end up emotionally on the same page.

[strawberrysodaslut]

STEVE HARRINGTON IS THE PUSSY WORSHIPING KING! he will have you sit on his face for hours just to see how many times he can get you to cum. HE’LL CUM UNTOUCHED TOO, he could just from the taste of you🙏🏾🙏🏾

Take Your Seat - Steve Harrington x Reader

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[ Steve Harrington Masterlist ]

[ Main Masterlist ]

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summary: Steve’s favourite hobby is eating you out, so when the two of you try a new method, he enjoys it a little too much

warnings: SMUTTT, face sitting, oral (male and fem receiving) implied non protected sex, slight knife kink, cumming in pants, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

a/n: this is the truest statement ever sorry science this is the truth. this was meant to be a blurb but i got carried away 💀

edit: as someone has mentioned in my asks, this fic was HEAVILY inspired by ‘ruin the friendship’ by ethotlliot on wattpad, i didn’t even realise how similar they were until i reread both works, and it’s ridiculously similar. so i’ve edited it to fix those parts and also want to give HUGE credit to ethotlliot on wattpad, their work is no longer available on there but you can read their work on ao3

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Steve would take any opportunity to eat you out. At one point it seemed that any time you were alone would be spent with his head between your thighs, lapping you up like your his fucking life source.

The first time he suggested you sitting on his face, you were really apprehensive. Not because you didn’t want to- god you did, but you were scared of crushing him.

“Baby, you won’t crush me I promise.” He says, pressing a kiss to your lips. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. But if it’s because you’re scared of hurting me I promise you have nothing to worry about.”

You smile, looking down to hide the redness of your face. But his face follows you down, looking up at you, “How we feeling?”

Steve chuckles as you sit up, you move to straddle his hips. His hands immediately grip your waist, strolling circles with his thumb. The two of you meet for a kiss. The kiss is slow, tender. You brush your hands through his hair, just toying with the strands.

He pulls back from the kiss, “Yes or no, baby?” He says, bumping his nose into yours as the two of you catch your breath.

The two of you have always had a system when giving head, a way to tap out. If you were hurting him, surely he would let you know. There’s no harm in trying if you both want it, right?

A whimper escapes you, “Yes, please” you say, making it official.

He spurs into motion, unzipping your jeans as you help him shimmy you out of them, you’re about to pull down your panties when he stops you.

He reaches down his pocket, pulling out a plastic object, when he flips it up, you can see it’s a pocket knife. He moves the knife to the waistband of your panties before looking at you and raising his eyebrows, looking for permission.

You lightly nod, and he lifts your waistband at your right hip, cutting through it, quickly doing the same with the left side. He tosses the panties and the knife away, sending you a wink as he does so.

He moves to lie down on his back, “Come take your seat.” He says, the smirk still stretched across his face.

You giggle, moving up his body to hover above his face. The nerves come back as you realise the gravity of the situation- quite literally. What if you hurt him? What if you’re heavier than he expected and he judges you.

Before you can second guess yourself any further, Steve’s arms wrap around your thighs and he pulls you down onto his mouth.

You moan at the feeling of his mouth on your heat. It’s much harsher than when he would normally give head, but in the best way.

He grips your hips to roll you down onto his face, you let out a near phonographic moan, “Fuck, Steve.” You say, grinding down to ride his mouth.

You grip down on his hair, and he moans, sending vibrations up your body. His tongue moves to circle your clit, finding a steady rhythm and sticking to it.

His pace is demanding, rough, dragging you to your high at an alarming rate. “Steve,” you moan out, “you keep doing that and I’m gonna cum.”

You feel vibrations going up your body as he tries to reply, but his voice is muffled from your cunt. You sit up on your knees, “What?”

He huffs a laugh, “I said, that’s kind of the point.” He chuckles, “Now get back down here.” He says, pulling you back down.

You relax in his grip, your anxieties about hurting him washing away. You can quickly feel your high approaching more and more, your hips stuttering where they sit.

“So close…” You whimper, reaching for anything to grip on to stop yourself from tumbling forward. “Please don’t stop…” You beg.

The vibrations are getting more frequent, Steve’s muffled moans so strong you’d think that he was the one getting head.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you reach your high, your hips involuntarily grinding down onto his face. Just as you felt the pleasure move into overstimulation, you try to get off.

But Steve persists, gripping your hips to roll you further down. You whine, the sensitivity overtaking you. He always does this, loving the sight of you writhing and twitching and the sound of you whining.

The burn of of the overstimulation fades back into building pleasure. This was his favourite part about you, that once he made you cum he could get another million out of you before his lunch break ended.

“Fuck,” You moan as you stutter into your second orgasm. You feel Steve’s moans get more intense below you, growing and growing as he gets you through your orgasm.

This time, you don’t let him continue through the overstimulation, tapping out on his head, he relents his assault on your pussy, watching you move off of him with the biggest smirk on his face.

As you sit, you can feel the wet underneath you, but it’s not your own, it’s in his shorts… oh.

To prove your theory, you roll your hips down and he moans out, gripping your hips to still you. His face goes red, and you raise your eyebrows, “I’m- I’m so sorry, shit. I didn’t mean to, it’s just- you’re so fucking hot and-“

You cut him off, leaning down to meet his lips in a kiss, you lightly roll your hips against his. He moans into the kiss, bucking his hips up to match your grinds.

You pull back, moving down to sit on his thigh, “Its okay. It’s honestly really fucking hot.” You say, pushing your hand down his boxers and wrapping your hands around his cock, using his cum as a lube. It’s almost completely soft now, but it twitches in your hand.

He moans, bucking his hips into your hand, “It is?” He asks.

You nod, moving to pull his boxers down his legs, you lean down and kiss the tip. “Yeah, seeing how turned on you get,” press a kiss down his shaft, “just from pleasing me,” you kiss further down, “how could that be anything but hot?”

You guide his slowly hardening cock to your mouth, swallowing around it. He moans, “Fuck- baby” He says.

It doesn’t take long for his cock to harden in your mouth, but before you can continue, he pulls you off of his. You sit up, brows furrowed.

Before you can ask, he flips the two of you over, your back on the now messed up sheets of his bed.

“Gotta cum in you baby, yeah?” He asks, waiting for permission as he swipes his cock up and down your slit. You nod, and he smiles, “Good girl.”

[artbyblastweave]

Cauldron has this cultivated aesthetic of being the adults in the room. Like many of the most powerful capes- Scion, the Slaughterhouse 9, Sleeper- They very noticeably eschew typical cape iconography in favor of fairly grounded clothing. Dr. Mother dresses like a doctor. Contessa wears a suit. Number Man dresses like an accountant. When it comes to their superheroic members, Alexandria- the one most in the know- picks the least superheroic costume she can get away with, a stark black bodysuit with subdued and deliberately obtuse iconography. Eidolon wears a costume designed to assist him in fading into the background whenever he’s not needed. 

When Number Man is mentally ragging on capedom as a concept, painting the entire thing as a ridiculous delusion enabled by power, he namedrops Legend- a guy he’s in the room with on a regular basis, and also the only one of the bunch who genuinely believes in superheroism as it was sold. Everyone in the organization who “matters” wants very badly to come off as above the pell-mell of the cape game, more detached, more objective, less theatrical.

This is, of course, bullshit. 

Doctor Mother was a college-aged young adult on her way to a club when she got shanghaied into saving the world; she’s Larping Doctorhood. Fortuna was eight when she got her power and is fundamentally infantilized by it; Alexandria went from thinking about Maggie Holt to subverting democracy with her Ferrari-brain in two years and change. Eidolon spent his whole life as a sheltered, disabled ward in a small town in the middle of nowhere before abruptly being handed borderline omnipotence. Number Man abandoned being a serial killer because it was “immature” and then immediately started dressing like the platonic ideal of a “mature adult” that he had in his head, all while using his power to play real-life monopoly with the economy. 

All of them are like this. All of them had their development, their life experiences stunted in a way that also made them powerful enough to purchase the right to have everyone take them seriously, in the exact way that Number Man mocks Legend for. They’re dressing up as much as anyone else in the cape game; in the meeting where Taylor is seething at the amount of work everyone is putting into maintaining their secret identities while the goddamned world is ending, Cauldron is sticking to their particular brand of dress-up as much as anyone else in the room in how hard they attempt to come across as the mature, informed adults, right before they begin to create co-ordination problems due to how invested they are in that self image.

Cauldron is a case-study in why secret identities are so massively important to Wormverse capes. The general Cape population is arguably playing dress-up, but the artifice involved inherently leads those capes to a recognition of their own affect. Legend might put on a goofy costume, but he can recognize the costume, take the costume off, and go home to his family. Cauldron? Nearly to a man, lost in character.

[godlytransurfer]

The Omnipotent Light Method

Hi everyone, as some of you know I’ve been playing around with combining the teachings of Neville, Alan Watts and Joe Dispenza, so I rediscovered a “new method” inspired by them, the I am state and the energy centers perceived in our body in order to get into the knowing, wish fulfilled and feelings of bliss faster in a simple way to concentrate your intentions!

I am calling this the Omnipotent Light method because it comes from a combination of being in God state per say, along with the visualization of a light field. This tends to work pretty fast for me!

Get into a focused inner state. By this I don’t necessarily mean to lay down. You can be walking, at your class, at a coffee shop, whatever. All it takes is focusing in your inner I am, you don’t literally need to be in the void like when you affirm for it before sleep paralysis. You can just close your eyes and visualize yourself being in a dark void. Hell, you can even do it with your eyes open as long as you’re a good visualizer. Try to focus also on your heart or pineal gland centers.

As you are in this dark place, or in a visualization end scene, I want you to imagine a powerful and well intentioned bright light that will do the job for you, even though you are also that light and everything that exists. That light will “possess” or surround the object, individual or situation you want to inject the desired intention in.

I’ll give a few examples:

I am manifesting white teeth, or super long hair. I will visualize a scene of myself looking in the mirror as my teeth or my hair light up as a body of white light (that’s always the color I chose for mine but you can pick whatever color you resonate with most) and as that light is there I assume and feel the fulfillment of my hair having grown a lot to my desired result, or that the light also makes my teeth ridiculously and instantly white.

Another way of doing this can be just imagine yourself in the void, but your body is a translucent outline, everything else in you basically being transparent. Then you have your energy centers with that powerful bright light and charged with an “elevated emotion” as Dispenza tends to call it, but for the sake of this being a Law of Assumption blog, just assume the centers to be in balance, coherence, basically working well and being strong. Basically you see your outlines and you are transparent but you see the centers. After lighting them all up, feel the space around you as in, an extended energy field of yourself that can be as wide as you want (wider meaning the energy in your body is stronger, aka you are doing well spiritually and in health) and that equally has that light in the same color, but a bit more translucent than the focused centers. After that you can focus on for example, as before your teeth, your hair, your skin. Another thing I did with this “almost void” place was focusing the white light on my face and intend clear skin. Next day, everything is pretty much gone.

You can also do this for specific people. You can imagine them in that dark place or in an end scene, or just focus on them in general. Then make their body glow with the light and set your intention, in which the light is transforming them permanently. Can be that they are the desired version of them that you want, that they love you even more than you love them, that they make a decision that you want... etc. Any intention should work. I use white light because it makes me feel like it acts with speed, efficiency and safely for everyone involved.

3. Open your eyes or comeback to the 3D and know it is done! But you can do it as often as you like, and it should produce the feeling of relief as many other methods.

Have fun :D Hope it works for others as well as it does for me!

[lokisninerealms]

Memories to Bake

Synopsis: Loki never used to celebrate his birthday until you came along to give him new experiences.

Category / Pairing: Fluff overload; Loki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Absolutely none since this is just pure fluff

A/N: fluffy loki bc he’s fricking adorable

MASTERLIST

Still remembering the conversation you had with him. Here you were in the kitchen of the Avengers compound, flour covering the whole counter as you whisked the cake batter filled bowl. Various ingredients like eggs, butter, and vanilla extract spread out as well.

“So you’ve never had a birthday party? Birthday cake? None of that?” You asked, confused when the God told you that he’s never celebrated his birthday before.

He shrugged, nonchalantly, “Why would we need to? Asgardian life span is prolonged compared to what you mortals live.” Eyes still focusing on his latest novel.

You still couldn’t shake away the thought of Loki never properly celebrating his birthday. Over 1,000 years old and the man has never indulged in birthday cake. Pouring the batter into the circle pan then tucking it into the oven while setting the timer.

Loki always exclaimed how Midgardian life is a lot different than his life in Asgard. Telling you many stories about how his mother, Frigga, would teach him magic tricks. Sometimes using it to his advantage to pull pranks on people such as his brother, Thor and Lady Sif.

He also described how beautiful the gardens were, an arrange of aster, lavender and forget-me-nots that covered the palace. Asgards sunlight and warm weather nurturing the buds as they bloomed.

Whenever you talked to him, he grew more intrigued by Earth and the ways of its people. Seeing a vast difference in how both realms functioned.

“You mortals and your hobbies are absolutely ridiculous,” Loki grumbled. Rolling his eyes as he laced up his skates, the brown fading from the wear from over the years. 

You decided to take Loki roller skating, much to his objection. Seeing as the God has never had an ounce of real fun in Asgard. “Oh. Stop being such a stick in the mud, it’ll be so much fun!” You exclaimed, ecstatically.

He huffed, wishing that he was cozied up on the couch with a new novel than here. “I’m not a stick in the mud, I just don’t see how anyone can see going in circles on wheels as fun,” he remarked. Standing up only to stumble and catch himself on the rail beside you.

You pulled him up, watching as he continued to grumble under his breathe as he slowly skated beside you. Still holding the rail as you teased him, “See you got it. Now just keep-“

Loki zipped past you, causing you to fall from the sudden act as he smirked at you while gracefully skating around the rink. Gapping at him, you couldn’t speak as he offered you a hand to help you up.

“You were saying love?,” he joked. “I can’t believe you just did that! Why didn’t you tell me you know how to skate,” dusting yourself off as you started to skate next to him.

Shrugging, he said, “I just wanted to see how you would react, which might I add, was hysterical.” Smacking his chest, you couldn’t help but laugh with him.

Smiling at the memory, you heard the timer go off as you grabbed oven gloves. The sweet smell of vanilla filling your nose as you pulled the cake out. Placing it on a stand to cool off before decorating.

“Just watch it please, I promise you’ll enjoy it.” You convinced Loki to watch TV with you. He glanced up at you, seeing how desperate you truly were to expose him to the moving pictures on the screen.

Glancing back down at his book before closing it to set beside him. “Fine,” he mumbled as he leaned back in the sofa. You squealed, picking up the remote before pressing play on the movie.

The scenes of Top Gun played on the screen as you ooed and awed. Hearing Loki join you as well at the fighter jet planes and volleyball tournament beside you. Every now and then you would glance over at him, seeing his blue eyes light up from wonder.

You knew Loki would be home any moment. Scrambling to find the icing, you grasped the green and yellow in your hand. Spreading the white all over the base to create a smooth surface for you to work with.

Using the green icing to spell out ‘Happy Birthday Loki!’ while twisting your wrist to swirl yellow designs. Twirling the cake in your hands, you inspected it before giving it your own approval.

“And what do we have hear,” the familiar voice behind you breaking your concentration. “What the fuck Loki?!” Placing the cake down before turning around to yell at the birthday boy, himself.

He laughed, finding your temper absolutely adorable. “Sorry love, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” The mischievous glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

You shook your head, “Don’t scare me like that. Especially with a cake, your cake, in my hands.” Lecturing him as he moved behind you to get a closer look at the dessert, his brows furrowing.

“You made me a cake?,” he whispered. His eyes softening as you moved, watching as Loki read the cake. A smiling forming onto his lips before looking at you.

Placing a hand on his arm, you grinned, “Of course, you said you’ve never had cake before so I figured we cross something else for you to try.”

Wrapping his arms around you, he engulfed you in a hug. Still feeling like a kid on Christmas as he looked at his cake.

Taking a fork in his hand, Loki went to cut a piece for himself. “Wait. I still have to cut a piece for both of us,” you said. Looking for a knife as Loki conjured the drawer closed with his magic, “Hey! you almost cut off-“

He placed the fork in your mouth, cutting you off mid-sentence as you tasted the sweet vanilla of the baked good. You hummed, Loki watching you intently as you grabbed your own fork to give him his own piece of cake.

Loki hummed, the delicious taste of vanilla hitting his tongue as he nodded his head. “You are quite the master mind, darling. Delicious and savoring like you,” he purred.

Blushing at his comment, you continued to devour the treat as you both fed each other. Loki’s eyes filling with so much happiness as he stood in the comfort and company of his love.

“Happy Birthday, my love, here’s to many, many more birthdays to come.”

[akumatizedpuns]

Anti-Arguments and Rebuttals for them

Things to remember:

Antis usually want an easy target. Freelance artists/writers, small businesses, etc.

But it's easier to get angry with a smaller entity than one you know you'll never be able to do anything with/about.

A lot of antis just deeply enjoy the thrill of witch hunting. If you pay attention, you'll notice a lot of them engage in cancel culture and make memes about the topics they call themselves taking a stand for or against.

Antis will almost always use a strawman argument. Most things on this list will consist of these sorts of arguments.

1. Fiction affects reality.

The funniest and most ridiculous thing about this argument to me is that it always comes out of nowhere. No one ever says anything that implies this isn't the case, yet antis seem to think everyone except themselves are woefully unaware of this fact.

If fiction didn't affect reality, then people wouldn't use fiction to work through trauma. Obviously, fiction does affect reality.

But I somehow doubt you'll ever come across an anti who wants to ban all violence and/or disturbing content in media. No one wants Fortnite, GTA, Mortal Kombat or Call of Duty to be taken off the shelves forever. No one wants Tokyo Ghoul, Attack on Titan, Death Note or Dragon Ball to never be available to watch again. Yet all contain negative content. Negative content that is consumed by kids daily.

If an anti was really concerned about fiction and the fact that it can affect reality, they would be tackling these bigger problems. Some of these games and a lot of violent or disturbing media in general have been linked to real life attacks. There are so many more.

But I'm not gonna end my argument there and just say, 'Since antis are okay with this wrong thing, then they should be okay with that wrong thing.'

No. At the end of the day, it comes down to the person. Educate children on safe ways to consume media. If someone shipping two cousins together somehow influences a person in the real world to do something terrible, then there's something wrong with that person.

If an SA victim is dressed a certain way and get's SA'd would you blame the SA victim for how they were dressed or the perpetrator? You also have to realise that by placing the blame on fiction, you're enabling similar behavior.

Because too many times throughout history we've seen a murderer get the 'benefit of the doubt' because they were inspired by some form of media. That's no excuse.

2. If you read/write something you must condone it.

Okay, lets say I'm writing a story wherein the protagonist is assassinating a Hitler-like character or entity. The character describes their murder as though they are completely happy about it. Everyone in the story continue on with incredible lives, something that would not have been possible if not for the murder.

Let me first ask, what do you think about this? Do you hate or at the very least disagree with the way the murder was glorified/romanticized because you think that murder is reprehensible no matter what? Or do you think some form or semblance justice was served?

Neither is wrong or right. Not in fiction. Objectivity would come more into play if this were a real situation, though.

But just because I, the author, decided to write it from the character's prespective doesn't mean I condone murder. That didn't mean that I didn't get to acquire any insight on the possible prespective of the character. But even if I did, I could flat-footedly disagree regardless.

I don't feel as though I can explain this. It's something you have to understand. But I'll post this link and hope you can put at least some of the pieces together, https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MoralityTropes

3. It's okay to harass someone because shipping something that problematic is just wrong.

The point is, no one in fiction is sentinent, except for in our minds. Morality is much more flexible.

It throws me that animals are sentinent, yet we'll know this and eat them regardless. We're hard-pressed to value animals above people, let alone put them on remotely similar levels.

But somehow their is a group of people out there who are condone harassing or threatening people because a completely non-sentinent being is being hurt from their prespective. Really??

Humans go by a general consensus. That we won't put animals above humans. Yet, we're willing to put invisible, fictional entities above humans? This sounds eerily similar to radical cult/religous groups. The only difference is that antis (hopefully) know for sure that a fictional characters aren't real. Most religious people at least have an excuse, even if it's a terrible one.

4. Aging up Characters is wrong

The most unbelieveable argument, but I'll bite. It's not. It's not pedophilia. By Google definitions, pedophilia is a sexual attraction toward children. A pedophile is someone who is sexually attracted to children.

This is not pedophilia. Characters have been aged up in media ever since media has existed. You are not sexualizing a child by aging them up, even if said drawing is suggestive.

When you incorrectly use this term, you make it harder for real victims to be believed, you trivialize the struggles that actual victims have/are going through. If it's weird and suspicious to you, then fine.

5. All proshippers are pedophiles/condone pedophilia.

Firstly, please stop saying this as a lot of proshippers are minors. You are further spewing misinfo on what a pedophile is toward someone who is still developing and may meet an actual pedophile but aren't able to properly identify them because some stranger in line kept insisting an artist who aged up a character is one. Minors are very easily influeneced by the internet. Being harassed does more damage than shipping something they will likely grow out of.

And those who are not minors usually are survivors of CSA/SA and cope with their trauma through drawing or writing certain content. They get to rewrite or redraw what happened to them and give themselves a better ending.

You don't have the right to tell them how to cope. Fiction is supposed to be a safe space, thus, why it is a medium recommended by therapists and has been for centuries. This shit has literally been researched.

Secondly, adult proshippers usually have something along the lines of 'Minors DNI' on their pages. I notice that even antis who post explicit/NSFW content don't, though. Which is ironic.

And the 'not all victims cope this way so they don't have to cope this way' argument is valid.

6. Well, I wouldn't attack them if they weren't public with it.

That's no excuse. You have entirely too much time on your hands, first off. Be hateful towards a person who actually deserves that hate.

Secondly, as long as they have proper warnings on their page, it's their shit. You can't tell them what to do with it.

Lastly, I've never met a proshipper that forced an anti to interact with them or their content. I've never met a proshipper who can somehow resist being blocked by the complete stranger who happened to stumble across their page.

Generally speaking, I don't believe in the 'don't like, don't interact' thing. Not with video games. Or TV. Or social media. You have the right. But when it's another human being, I highly doubt that's something that can't be accomplished.

This also sounds weirdly familiar to the, "Well, if gay people weren't throwing it in my face, I wouldn't have anything to say about them!" Antis are oddly authoritarian.

In Conclusion:

There's no excuse to harass anyone over fiction. And if someone has a very difficult time seperating fiction from reality, I highly recommend therapy in all brutal honesty.

Nothing will ever make telling a suicidal person to kill or hurt themselves okay.

Nothing will ever make falsely telling a survivor that they are their abuser or like their abuser okay.

If I tell Charlie Brown to kill himself right now it won't matter.

If I tell a real person to kill themselves, my words can and just might have real, lasting, effects.

If I tell Percy Jackson to kill himself he'll be okay and we know this without question.

If I tell a real person to kill themselves because they told me they ship Percy with Hera or whoever the fuck, theirs no way of knowing. And if you're fine with that - if you even so much as defend that - then maybe you should engage in something less hateful.

How about worshipping a flying spaghetti monster (since you may as well be)?

[yrluvjane]

Perfect.

Regulus x fem!reader

Regulus Black was nothing short of perfect. At least that was what Y/n saw. She saw perfection in the smallest things.

Y/n was the type of person that liked to see wonder in the world, she was also way too observent. If you asked her what she saw in a glass of water, she'd say a clean glass of water.

What she saw in Bowtruckles? Their tiny hands, their playful and mischievous personality, their sensitive feelings hidden behind confidence, their vibrant green colours and so on.

Y/n saw things in a light not many see in. She believed everything was beautiful in its own way. And this belief made her see perfection in Regulus Arcturus Black.

The way his messy curls fell when he spoke, disobeying his perfect pureblood posture.

The way his eyes sparkled when he spoke of the stars.

How he narrowed his grey eyes and slightly sucked his cheeks when he concentrated.

How he always drummed his finger against his cup in the morning as he listened to Lucius ramble.

How he only hummed in response when he didn't concentrate but still tried to be polite.

How whenever he's angry or irritated, he'd swear in french under his breath because he didn't like loud voices.

How he was beyond patient and always trying to calm himself down if he was being pushed to the limits.

How he'd run his hands through his hair to try and tame it but it always betrayed him and fell.

Or run his hands down his face making you finally realise the dark bags under his eyes.

But there were somethings she knew that broke her every time.

She knew he liked to compare himself to his brother, Sirius.

She knew he was always tested by his Slytherin roomates to where his loyalties lied.

She knew that sometimes it was too much for him. Sometimes, when the stress and pressure was to much, it would break his walls.

And it broke her.

After an hour or so of pleading and begging for him to let her in, to let her hold him, comfort him.

Telling him that they could share the pain, that this relationship wasn't one but two. She knew that he feared that she'd leave him if she saw him like this but it was the complete opposite.

She had once punched Lucius just to make a point. Of course it had cost her detentions but she didn't care. Anything was worth seeing his almost visible smile.

When he'd finally let her in, she would hold him in her arms. She'd rest his head on he lap as he tried to hide his face and silence his cries.

She run her hands through his curls and tell him its okay. "It's okay to cry, it doesn't make you weak. It just means you've been strong for too long."

She'd kiss his hand, his head, his shoulder. She'd run her hands down his back soothingly. She'd push his hair back and kiss his forehead, his temples, his cheek.

She'd tell him how perfect he is. How wonderful, and happy he made her feel. How she had many friends that made her feel loved but with him she felt special. How he was special.

She'd read to him.

He'd be too tired to object to a muggle book but she knew the next day, he'd go back to his normal denying self.

And at some time would come over to her and point out how ridiculous the muggle book was and everything that didn't make sense.

The book held up by magic, while one hand intertwined with his and the other combing through his hair, she'd read to him till he cried himself dry.

She'd feel he's eyes fall and struggle to stay awake. She whisper good night to him and sweet dreams with a small smile when his eyes finally shut.

She'd place the book down and wrap her arms around him reminding his safe, she wait an hour or so to check he didn't have nightmares.

If he did, she'd lie there with him and draw small circles in his palm telling him some of her most embarrassing moments or muggle jokes that Regulus believed were pathetic but still smile because of how pathetic they were.

But in either situations she'd wake up early and personally make them breakfast, knowing he'd wish to go to class right away and avoid his 'friends'.

He'd thank her, kiss her and ramble of how she shouldn't have done that but she'd only look at him with a genuine smile and tell him it was nothing.

He'd motion for her to sit next to him and most of the time, they'd eat in silence but every time after they ate and got ready he'd thank her, kiss her, tell her he didn't deserve her and that she was beyond perfect and whisper the three words that made Y/n fall for him deeper every moment of the day.

"I love you."

[athena-writes-i-guess]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Prompt: “You’re my favorite person.”

Reader is referred to as she

Moodboard created by @persephone13

One of your favorite things to do was reminding Eddie that you loved him every chance you got. Whether that be with your words, or by leaving him a special little item for him to find later. Or like today, giving him a special item you made just for him. You smiled brightly up at him as you handed him the old jam jar. He cocked his head slightly to the side as he turned it around in his hand and looked at the label you attached to it. “Remember, you’re my shining star!” was written in your cute handwriting. He felt the smile pull at his lips as he looked at all the little yellow and blue origami stars you had put in the jar. “What is it?” He asked as he shook it lightly, liking the feel of the way they moved inside. 

“So on each star I wrote you a little something sweet!” You chirped happily, he loved the way your eyes crinkled in your excitement. “The yellow is for encouragement and the blue are all the things I love about you. I thought that maybe if you were ever feeling a little down you could pull one out and maybe it will help you feel a little better!” 

“There sure is a lot of blue in here sweetheart.” He joked lightly. 

“There’s a lot to love about you Eds.” You beamed, loving the soft smile that appeared on his face. 

“Thank you baby.” He said softly, leaning in to leave you a kiss. 

“Of course Eddie! It was so much easier than I thought, I even ran out of room in the jar, I had more I could have written!” You laughed. Eddie found that hard to believe. How could there be that much to love about him?

A few days later Eddie found himself in his room, he had his head in his hands as he leaned forward on his elbows. He was trying to keep himself calm by taking deep breaths. He felt so ridiculous for even feeling like this but he couldn’t stop it, it was against his will at this point. He had been on his way to say goodbye to you in the hall at school today when he overheard another pair of students talking about you. 

“Can you believe she’s still dating him?” One of them had whispered.

“I know, I mean, I can’t believe she said yes in the first place. I wouldn’t have.” The other retorted. 

Fuck. He already thought you were too good for him. He already couldn’t believe you wanted him, that you loved him. And though he tried to let other people's words wash off of him, it was hard. It was hard being one of the most disliked people in town. To be told that you were never going to amount to anything. That you didn’t deserve to be happy. And he had heard it almost his whole life. 

Except from you. Never from you. 

He took a steading breath and looked up at his dresser where he had all the little items from you. He scanned over the objects there; the paper rose you made out of one of his favorite comic books, a ‘coupon book’ you made full of ‘free kiss’, ‘ice cream date’ and ‘movie night’ coupons, a scratch off lottery ticket you made that when he had scratched, it had said ‘you won my heart’. 

Finally he landed on the jar, he picked it up, opened it, and pulled out a blue star. He unfolded it clumsily and there written was: “You’re my favorite person.” 

He felt the smile break on his face reading your small cute handwriting, you had even managed to add a little heart. He read it over and over again. Letting the words wash over him as if you were actually saying it. You were his favorite person, and here, on this little blue paper was the one many items of proof he had that he was yours. 

Taglist: @srapalestina​

@yvonneeeee​

[glittersandsourcherries]

Cheatercheaterbestfriend (part 1) | Elliot x Reader

Summary: Elliot comes clean and tells you about what happened on Saturday

Pairing: Elliot x Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: mention of cheating, swearing, mention of use

Note: Can you guess where I got the title inspo from?

part 2

-

You considered Jules as one of your best friends. Until tonight.

You fastened you pace in the barely-lit street, impatient to see Elliot after this insufferable dinner with your parents - being a child of divorce sucked.

He was playing guitar in his bedroom when you arrived and had a pen in his mouth, likely writing music. Although you enjoyed listening to him play, you took the guitar from his lap and replaced it with yourself. Now aware of your presence, Elliot took the pen from his mouth. He opened his mouth to say hello, but you cupped his face and kissed him, not letting him time to place a word. His lips felt appeasing against yours, turning your mood completely.

Elliot slid his hands to your waist, breaking the kiss. ''Hi.'' He bumped his nose against yours before stealing a quick kiss.

''Hi.'' You smiled at him sweetly, snaking your arms behind his neck.

It's crazy how the sole presence of someone you love can uplift your mood.

''Sorry for the wait, my parents were arguing about who I'll be spending Christmas with this year. As if I can't make my own decisions...'' You sighed, tired of all of that.

You thought joint custody would satisfy everybody, but it turned out to be a whole mess. Now they're fighting for you like you were some object they split the cost of to get. It's ridiculous and exhausting.

Confusion washed over Elliot's face. ''Isn't Christmas in three months?''

''I know.'' You absentmindedly played with the curls at the back of Elliot's head. ''They never cared much about Christmas, New Years, birthdays, Easter or even Labor day, but since the divorce, they're very into holidays. My mother wants to start celebrating Hanukkah just to spite my father and have me for a whole week! We aren't even Jewish!''

Elliot laughed.

''I got them to let me make plans with friends for New Years, so I can spend it with you. Wouldn't want to miss our first New Years kiss.''

At the mention of a New Years kiss, Elliot's face churned and his eyes dropped down. It was easy to guess that something was bothering him.

''Eh, before we make any plans like that, there's something I need to tell you.'' He gently pushed you off of him and had you sit in front of him instead, meaning it was serious matter.

The last time you heard those words, it was from your parents who were announcing their separation. You bit your lip and tried to calm your nerves. Whatever Elliot was going to say wouldn't compete with that announcement.

You watching as he chewed on his bottom lip, visibly nervous. ''I've been trying to think of the best way to tell about this, but I don't there there is a good way so I'm gonna take the bull head-on and say it. Jules...kissed me.''

You almost got up and told him to fuck himself, until you realized what he had really said. Jules had kissed him, not the other way around.

A deep frown creased between your eyebrows as your head bubbled with many different questions.

Why would Jules kiss someone else when she has a girlfriend? Doesn't she know the meaning of being faithful? How could she do that to Rue? Your heart was hurting for her. She didn't deserve this.

And why did she kiss Elliot? Didn't she say she was no longer interested in men? If she was confused about her sexuality, couldn't she have picked someone else to experience on? There's a billion men on earth, why did she pick yours? Was it to piss you off?

''When was this?'' you asked calmly.

''On Saturday,'' he replied, his eyes casted down to his lap, unable to meet your eyes after dropping the bomb. ''She arrived here first so we hung out while we were waiting for you and Rue to get here. We were talking and laughing and I don't get why, but she...kissed me.''

You nodded, taking in the information.

''Did you kiss her back?'' Your voice faltered.

To you, this was the most important part. Did Elliot kiss her back? His answer was going to be compelling. It's what will decide the fate of your relationship.

If Elliot kissed her back, there will be no forgiveness. Being a very loyal person, fidelity was very important to you and you could never take back someone who cheated on you, someone who betrayed you.

Elliot shook his head immediately. ''No. Of course not,'' he replied, looking at you with sincerity.

That was all you needed to hear.

.

''I hope not,'' you snapped, taking a seat beside Kat to put on your roller skates. ''I don't want to see her face again.''

''I get it, girl,'' Maddy said. ''If one of my best friends crossed me like that, I wouldn't want to see her face again.''

Before you, Cassie dropped one of her skate, her face looking like she had seen a ghost.

''You okay, Cas?''

She gave you a smile, concealing her real emotions. ''Yes. It just slipped.''

You returned your attention to your skates, pulling at the laces to tighten it.

''It's good that Elliot was honest and told you. Maybe he's got bigger balls than I thought.''

A chuckle left your lips. It's not only the balls, you almost said, but didn't want to start a conversation about your boyfriend's private anatomy.

''Talking about Elliot, where's your man?'' Cassie asked.

''With Rue. He wanted to wait and give Jules time to tell her about the kiss, but it's been weeks and it doesn't seem like Jules will tell her. Elliot feels bad hiding this from her. He doesn't want to be a homewrecker, but she deserves to know.''

''Hopefully she doesn't relapse again...''

Kat gave Maddy a dirty look. ''How can you say things like that?''

''I'm being serious. Rue loves Jules so much. Her heart will be broken. We all know what she'll turn to to numb her feelings.''

Shit. You hadn't thought about that.

When you told the girls about Jules kissing your boyfriend, Kat was the only one who remained friends with Jules. She said she didn't want to pick a side in a conflict that didn't concern her.

Maddy, Cassie and Bb all sided with you. Especially Maddy. Like you, Maddy was a deeply loyal person. To her, cheating - even just a kiss - was unforgivable. Cross her once and fear for your life.

Not feeling like waiting after Maddy, who seemed to take forever to tie her skates, you took Cassie's hand and went on the rink. Having been an ice skater when she was younger, the blonde was very skilled at this and taught you tricks. You were no pro-roller skater, but you didn't fall on your ass every ten seconds.

You watched Cassie perform a successful spin, wishing you were at that level. ''I need you to teach me that,'' you begged.

Cassie's answer was blocked as your head turned in direction of where Maddy and Kat were.

Your jaw clenched. ''What the fuck is she doing here?''

Seeing Jules made your blood boil. How dare she showing up at the roller rink as if nothing happened?

You abandoned Cassie and skated over to the side, rage in your eyes. ''Bitch, I'm gonna fuck you up!''

Terror flashed in Jules's at the sound of your threat. She looked at Kat and Maddy for help, but the latter shook her head.

''Don't look at me like that. I'm not gonna hold her back if she want to fight.''

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐠'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

a/n: female reader, requests are open. I haven’t written for Druig, ever, and this was kinda fun. 

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

✧ Your dynamic is:     Enemies > aquaintances > friends > both secretly pining after each other but trying to hide it > you accidentally confess your feelings while under a spell > he grows distant > you save his life (bitterly) > he confides in Makkari and she tells him to get a grip > he confesses to you > but you rebuff him > then he keeps falling harder and harder; near begging you to forgive him

✧ Knowing that he’s an Eternal, even though you’re mortal yourself

✧ You meet when Thena, Makkari and himself are off to find the other Eternals. 

✧ They enlist your help as your magical knowledge nearly exceeds the Sorcerer Supreme. You come from a long line of witches, one being your Aunt Agatha. You have natural abilities; levitation of objects and yourself, enhanced intuition and divination skills 

✧ Yet you were recruited by Dr Strange himself, and from your studies with the Mystic Arts, your abilities grew

✧ With so much going on, the Eternals needed your help as nearly everyone else was busy making sure the end of the world didn’t happen ... again

✧ So it was decided that you would travel with them on their journey. Since it was unsafe for you to be involved and left in your home town

✧ Makkari became a quick friend (pun intended...) she was so kind to you, and taught you a lot of sign language. Even though she couldn’t communicate using speech, you two had a lot of deep conversations. She was very curious about your studies and your knowledge

✧ Thena was stoic, not speeching much but when she did, you were in awe. It was like gazing upon a goddess; Athena had always been one of your favourite greek gods (thanks to the Percy Jackson books). But you could’ve never thought you would meet the actual figure Athena was based on

✧ And then there was Druig. You had read about him once, in an old reference book about ancient druidry. 

“What’s your power?” You asked, watching him lean against the far wall. 

     “I’m not a magician,” he responded harshly. 

Even Makkari looked at him with shock, however Thena had understood where his anger was coming from. They had been chasing leads for weeks without finding anything. 

 “Prick,” you replied. Clearly in ear shot, you didn’t feel Druig had a leg to stand on really. Here they were, asking you for help. You were risking your neck, and here an immortal being stood, giving you lip. 

I like her, Makkari signed to Thena, throwing a kind smile your way. 

✧ After he asked for your forgiveness, you didn’t have it in you to ignore him any longer. It felt too cruel, not just to him, but to you. Your heart felt so broken, and here he was, near begging. 

✧ He teases you a lot, like a lot.  Holding things out of reach, hiding your supplies, calling you ridiculous nicknames. 

✧ Druig loves being physically close to you; always having a hand, an arm around you, a leg hooked with yours, your head resting on his chest or shoulder. 

✧ You brought as many of your herbs onboard; Druig loves the smell of rosemary, lavender, jasmine and cinammon. 

✧ Druig likes to read all sorts of literature. He loves Shakespeare’s play Hamlet. He feels an afinity to the character - having the power to change lives, or stand by and let them make their mistakes. 

✧ He likes to read to you out loud (although no one else is allowed to hear him). 

✧ What was between him and Makkari was merely platonic. You all hold great respect for each other and know you can count on one another for anything. 

✧ You played the song, the 30th by Billie Eilish and he cried. Druig is the most connected to humanity through his power. He knows the best and worst of humans and constantly needs to see the good in them. 

✧ He doesn’t like to be touched by people, but others wouldn’t know that because you’re near inseparable 

✧ He likes Slipknot 

✧ Knows a lot about history, and yes being there was helpful. He tells you ‘what actually happened,’ and then Thena overhears and yells, “THAT DID NOT HAPPEN DRUIG, HE HIT YOU FAIR AND SQUARE.”

✧ He likes it when you trace random words, shapes, symbols on his skin

✧ Likes to play with your hair, and has picked up a lot of skills over the years. He does a mean braid 

✧ He is GREAT with children and animals 

[ladyluscinia]

Who are all of these people who are drowning in pro-Izzy content to the exclusion of all other characters and have they been in a fandom that actually has a ridiculous overrepresentation of some shitty guy? I see posts like this:

And the problem sounds a lot more like they are objecting to any Izzy content. Because I certainly can't find this overwhelming dominance. So fine. Let's see how popular Izzy is...

There are 12072 OFMD works on AO3 as I type this.

"Israel Hands" is character tagged in 5393 of them. That's 44.7%. Lower than I would expect, seeing as that includes every fic where he's the choice of villain as well as simply present or a focus. 122 of those are tagged "Major Character Death" (out of 225 in the whole fandom), and I suspect that's undertagged by people who don't think Izzy's fate is that important.

Comparably we have Lucius at 3560 (29.5%), Jim at 2226 (18.4%), and Oluwande at 1935 (16%). Lower than Izzy, yeah, but how many of those Lucius fics have him tagged just to get violently killed off or verbally wrecked and sent away for everyone else's happy ending? How many times does the crew show up untagged individually? I'm guessing the numbers of positive fics are probably a lot more equal... But let's see if we can look at this another way.

How about ships?

Izzy's ship fics are probably more likely to be pro-Izzy / significant content, yeah? So I'll break those down.

The most popular ship in the "Israel Hands" character tag is - to no one's surprise - BlackBonnet at 3183 (so 59% of "Israel Hands" character tagged fics, and 26.4% of all OFMD fics are tagged BlackBonnet + "Israel Hands"). I'd guess that number includes a lot of the "villain Izzy getting defeated" stories. Ships that actually have Izzy in them go:

Edward/Izzy at 1287 under "Israel Hands", 1374 (11.4%) total

Stede/Edward/Izzy at 762 under "Israel Hands", 812 (6.7%, probably with a good amount of BlackHands overlap) total

Stede/Izzy at 482 under "Israel Hands", 509 (4.2%, with overlap again) total

Izzy/Lucius at 477 under "Israel Hands", 514 (4.3%) total.

Lucius/Pete btw? 746 under "Israel Hands", 1188 (9.8%) total. Oluwande/Jim has 579 under "Israel Hands" and 1023 (8.5%) total. They both outrank every non-Edward/Izzy ship inside Izzy's tag, and are not far behind Edward/Izzy in total.

Another consideration I can attest to as a BlackHands reader... a lot of those Edward/Izzy fics are labeled "one sided" in various ways (which gets tag wrangled as the ship). 107 are just plain tagged "Unrequited Love". 94 have "One-Sided Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Israel Hands". Or they are toxic / abusive with a different ship endgame - BlackBonnet (tagged on 656 of them, with 389 as SteddyHands) or Izzy/Lucius (tagged on 70) or a negligible ship like Izzy/Frenchie or Izzy/Sam Bellamy.

These numbers are just NOT an overwhelming surge of fan attention. Izzy is not a third protagonist, no, but he's the most developed antagonist with easily 3rd or 4th most screentime / characterization. Having maybe 1/5 or less of the fandom content that you could call "focused" on him is not much or unusual or proof of bias 🙄 (the tag "Israel Hands-centric" is on 341 fics, or 2.8% of OFMD fics, "POV Israel Hands" on 176 so 1.5%, "Soft Israel Hands" on 107 or 0.9%... These are not big numbers).

Do people want to know where all that attention they think is owed to Jim or Lucius or Frenchie or Ivan and Fang is going?

8705 works tagged as BlackBonnet. That's 72.1% of all OFMD fics. Running the "otp: true" search for BlackBonnet ONLY fics pulls up 5764 results, so still 47.7%! Almost half of this fandom's content is ship fic that only covers the OTP without even tagged background ships.

"Blackbeard | Edward Teach" is character tagged in 9698 OFMD fics at 80.3% and "Stede Bonnet" is next in 8889 at 73.6%.

In the 1188 Lucius/Pete fics, BlackBonnet is tagged in 936 of them. That's 78.8% of all Lucius/Pete.

In the 1023 Oluwande/Jim fics, BlackBonnet is tagged in 788 of them. That's 77% of all Oluwande/Jim.

Those BlackBonnet numbers are insane. Fucking Destiel - the biggest ship on AO3, in a show insanely hostile to side characters - is tagged in 107526 fics of 268568 in the Supernatural fandom. That's 40%. You read that right. Less than half. Maybe some more recent tumblr darlings?

Catra / Adora from She-Ra hit 10248 out of 16141, so 63.5%. And they are canon.

Newer, but I've seen Dream / Hob Gadling surging and it's at roughly 500 (the tags need wrangling) out of 1743 in the Sandman (TV 2022), hitting 28.7%

Never watched The Owl House, but Amity Blight / Luz Noceda is the top ship at 7650 of 16277, so 47%. Pretty sure that one is canon too.

Stranger Things has 51424 works, with top ships Steve/Eddie at 10266 (20%) and Billy/Steve at 9046 (17.6%). Again, I don't watch, but I'm pretty sure these are a lot more accurate examples of minor character takeover ships, and Billy especially is the shitty white guy breakout with barely any screentime. Who has been dead for multiple seasons. And it's still beating Edward/Izzy's percentage significantly.

I'm sorry that your fave isn't getting the content you want. It sucks. But this supposed unfair focus on Izzy just does not exist at any level that would actually be impacting other character content.

Anyone complaining about it is not making a complaint about fandom bias grounded in reality.

And anyone who is proposing "solutions" for this lack of content (a questionable proposition already) better have the bulk of their list as "More BlackBonnet writers need to try branching out" or they are just making up reasons to complain about minor content focused on a character or ship they don't like.