#need to stop hoarding onto stuff !!!!

[tetzoro]

good morning friendz & happy tuesday ! ! i hope today is a great day for everyone ! please remember to do something sweet for yourself because you are doing your best and that’s more than good enough !

[0scill4te]

I don't think i can quite say im a hoarder. you can walk around in my room and stuff. but at the same time yesterday i put groceries in my closet so maybe we are very close at this point

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤALIEN GIRLㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Mark Grayson x Fem Qu Reader Part 3

☆⁠ HEADCANON : You Were Pregnant... And Your Pregnancy Wasn't Normal... Especially Not Something That Mark Expected...

☆⁠ NOTES : Qu is an alien species from the book All Tomorrows. You can learn more about her here. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Mark started noticing things.

It began with small stuff.

Shiny things went missing—coins, keys, a silver spoon, even his mom’s earrings (which somehow ended up under his bed).

Then there was the soft stuff. His hoodies, pillows, blankets—all gone.

And the food. Fruits he’d never seen before piled up in the corner of his room, untouched but somehow... perfectly fresh.

Mark was so confused.

At first, he thought you were just being weird. Because let’s be honest—you weren’t exactly normal. But then he caught you sitting in a pile of stolen goods, legs tucked beneath you, nesting.

That was when he finally asked:

"...What are you doing?"

You blinked up at him, tilting your head, hair cascading around you like a shimmering cloak.

"For baby," you said simply. Then, after a pause, you added: "Babies."

Mark froze.

"...What."

You pointed at your stomach with a serene smile. "Baby. Nest good for baby."

Mark’s heart stopped.

"WHAT???"

Mark. Freaks. Out.

You tilted your head, confused. "What?" Mark panicked. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN BABIES—PLURAL?!" You just shrugged. "Baby." You patted your stomach. "Yours." He felt his soul leave his body.

Mark didn't know how to handle this.

He immediately ran to his mom.

"Mom," he gasped, stumbling into the kitchen like he’d just seen a ghost. "She—she said she’s pregnant."

Debbie paused mid-dishwashing. "What?"

"She’s making a nest! She’s collecting stuff! She said babies!" Mark ran a hand through his hair. "Mom, what the fuck!"

Debbie dried her hands calmly. "Did you use protection?"

Mark gawked at her. "I didn’t think I needed to! She’s an alien!"

Debbie exhaled sharply. "Well, apparently, she’s an alien that can get pregnant."

Mark groaned, collapsing onto the couch. "Oh my God. I’m not ready to be a dad."

"Well," Debbie muttered, completely unbothered. "You should’ve thought about that before sleeping with her."

Mark let out a miserable groan.

Now that you were pregnant, your eating habits changed.

You ate. So. Much.

Especially meat.

Mark stared, horrified, as you tore into a raw steak, completely unbothered. "You know... we usually cook that."

You blinked at him, mouth full of blood. "...Why?"

Mark swallowed. "Because it's gross eating it raw?"

You just tilted your head. "But taste good."

Mark watched in silence as you continued devouring the steak.

You also developed a sweet tooth.

Cookies? Gone.

Ice cream? Destroyed.

Syrup? You drank it straight from the bottle.

He had to physically pry it out of your hands.

Mark learned that you were serious about the nest.

You dragged his hoodies into a corner of his room. You hoarded pillows, blankets, even his mattress.

Mark woke up on the floor.

"You kicked me out of my own bed!" he groaned.

You blinked sleepily. "Nest not for you. Nest for baby."

Mark sighed, rubbing his face.

"...Where am I supposed to sleep?"

You thought about it for a second, then patted your lap.

Mark stared. "...I am not sleeping on your lap."

You shrugged, curling up in the nest. "Then floor."

Mark let out a strangled noise.

One night, Mark found you hugging your knees, staring out the window.

He frowned. "Hey... what’s wrong?"

You stayed silent.

Mark sat beside you. "Come on. Talk to me."

You took a deep breath. "Miss... sisters."

Mark blinked. "Your sisters?"

You nodded. "We... always together. Always. Birth together. Hug under sky." Your voice grew soft. Lonely. "Now... alone."

Mark felt something tug at his chest.

You were always so strange, so terrifying, so otherworldly. It was easy to forget you could feel sadness.

Mark hesitated before wrapping an arm around you.

You looked up, surprised.

Mark forced a smile. "Well... you’re not alone anymore."

You blinked. Then, slowly, you buried your face in his chest.

"...Mark warm," you mumbled.

He chuckled, resting his chin on your head. "Yeah, yeah. I get that a lot."

"Mark," you whispered against his skin, nuzzling into his neck. "You scared?" Mark swallowed thickly. "...A little." You pulled back, blinking at him. "Why?" He exhaled. "Because you’re not human. And you’re... different." You tilted your head. "Different bad?" "...No. Just... different."

You considered that. Then, slowly, you reached out, placing his hand on your slightly rounded stomach. "Not different," you murmured. "Just... mine."

And somehow, despite everything, despite the insane, terrifying reality of his situation— Mark smiled. Because yeah. He was yours.

You were beautiful. Terrifying, yes, but his. You clung to him, kissed him randomly, slept on top of him. And God help anyone who looked at him the wrong way. One time, a girl at the store smiled at Mark. You hissed. Mark had to physically drag you away. "Can you NOT try to commit murder every time a girl breathes near me?" You pouted. "She want mate." Mark sighed. "No, she was just being polite." You narrowed your eyes. "I kill." "NO." Mark was exhausted. Not because of crime-fighting, not because of college, not even because of his dad suddenly being back in his life. No. Because of you. It started one night when Mark woke up to emptiness. You weren’t in the nest. Panic hit him immediately. He checked the kitchen. Not there. The bathroom? Nope. The ceiling? ...Also no. "Goddamn it," he muttered. Mark searched the whole house three times before he heard it—soft breathing. He turned to the darkest corner of his room. Two glowing eyes stared back at him. "Jesus—!" He nearly punched the wall. "What the hell are you doing there?!" You blinked slowly, like a cat caught doing something forbidden. "Hide." Mark exhaled, running a hand down his face. "From what?!" You shrugged. "Feel good." Mark’s eye twitched. "Get out of the shadows." "No." "Get out." "...No." Mark groaned. Debbie had seen some shit. She survived Omni-Man. She survived Viltrumites. But she was not surviving this. She walked into the kitchen one morning, and there you were—perched on the fridge like some kind of cryptid. "...What are you doing?" "Mark say no raw meat," you said blankly. "So I eat where he not see." Debbie sighed. "Please don’t tell me you’re eating it raw again." You tilted your head. "...I no tell." "...Oh my God." Nolan hated you.

He had been sitting at the table, drinking coffee, when Mark asked you something completely innocent. "So… what were you like before?" You perked up. Pregnancy made you talkative, and you loved talking to Mark. "Oh! Had harem. Many males. Many pretty. All do what I say." Mark choked on his drink.

Nolan raised an eyebrow. Debbie just stared. "Harem?..." You nodded proudly. "Yes. Male do all work. Listen to Queen. Bring food. Fight others. Make babies." Mark coughed. "Uh. What happened to them?" You tilted your head. "Eat them." Dead silence. Nolan put his cup down very slowly. Mark paled. "...WHAT?" You hummed. "Some live. But old way… Male weak, we eat. No waste." Mark looked horrified. "...You ate your husbands?" You shrugged. "Yes. But you safe." You patted his head. "No eat you. Like you too much." Nolan looked like he was having a stroke. Debbie got up and left the room. Mark, meanwhile, just buried his face in his hands. "Oh my God." One time, Mark caught you crying in the nest. Immediate panic. He rushed over, pulling you into his arms. "Hey, hey—what’s wrong?!" You sniffled. "Nest too small." Mark blinked. "...Baby isn’t even born yet." You hugged your belly. "Need big nest." "...How big?" You looked at him, eyes deadly serious. "Big as house." He wanted to scream. Mark learned way too much about you. One night, as you laid in the nest together, you played with his fingers and whispered— "I ruin species once." Mark groaned. "Oh God. Not again." "Yes. Make them better. Stronger. Then… too strong." "...You made a species that killed itself?" "Yes." You yawned. "Oops." Mark covered his face. "Mark?" "...Yeah?" "Would you let me change you?" "NO." "...Okay." Mark didn’t sleep that night. One day, Nolan took Mark aside. "Mark. Listen to me. You don’t understand what you’ve done." Mark sighed. "Dad, relax. She’s harmless." "She is a goddamn genetic nightmare!" Mark crossed his arms. "She’s cute." "SHE ATE HER OWN KIND." "She said she wouldn’t eat me!" "THAT IS NOT REASSURING." Mark rolled his eyes. "Look, she chose me. That means I’m safe, right?" Nolan looked pale. "...Mark. If she chose you, that means you are hers. Forever." Mark shrugged. "I don’t see the problem." Nolan grabbed his shoulders. "MARK. SHE’S HAVING YOUR CHILD." Mark smirked. "Yeah. And?" Nolan looked to the sky, as if begging the universe for patience. "...You are the dumbest child I have ever raised."

Once Mark walked into the house after training, exhausted, covered in bruises, and ready to pass out. Instead, he was met with an eerie silence. His stomach dropped. "Babe?" No response. He checked the kitchen. No you. The living room? Empty. The bathroom? He opened the door and— "RAAARGH!" "HOLY SHIT!" Mark fell back as you jumped out from the shadows, completely naked as always, landing on his chest. You grinned. "Surprise." Mark groaned. "You almost gave me a heart attack." You tilted your head. "I no have heart attack." "I’M NOT YOU." You hummed, then leaned down, licking his face. Mark sighed. "Okay. You really need to stop licking me." "No." Despite the absolute insanity, Mark was obsessed with you. You were weird. You were dangerous. You were terrifying. But you were his. And he wouldn’t trade you for anything. Even if you tried to eat his kids.

"You are... happy?" you asked once, tilting your head as you lay across his lap, your long hair pooling onto the floor. Mark blinked, swallowing thickly. "I—I mean, yeah? I think so? It’s just... a lot." You smiled softly, placing a hand over your stomach. Then, like it was the most casual thing in the world, you murmured, "I eat it if it bad." Mark choked. "WHAT?" You blinked. "If baby weak. Bad. I eat." His soul left his body. "YOU CAN’T JUST EAT THE BABY!" You frowned, confused. "Why not?" "BECAUSE—BECAUSE THAT’S NOT—" He buried his face in his hands, groaning. "Oh my god, I can’t believe I got you pregnant." You beamed. "I can."

One night Mark had come home late, exhausted. He expected to find you asleep in your ridiculous nest. Instead, he found you sitting on the balcony, staring at the stars. Quiet. Still. He sat beside you. "Couldn’t sleep?" You shook your head. "Stars nice." Mark hummed. "...Yeah. They are." You glanced at him. "You think babies like stars?" Mark hesitated. Then, slowly, he smiled. "...I think they’ll love them." You brightened, eyes shimmering in the moonlight. Mark’s heart skipped a beat. He was so screwed.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— NEXT ☆ Part 1. Part 2. Part 4.

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[amyzworldds]

Title: Long Hair, Don’t Care

During Seventeen’s Right Here World Tour, Dino’s decision to grow out his hair—thanks to his girlfriend's endless praise—sparks a fan frenzy. Pairing: Dino x reader Genre: Fluff, humor

The Right Here World Tour had Seventeen dominating stages worldwide, and Dino—your unfairly charming boyfriend—was having a moment. It all started when he decided to skip the haircuts after you’d raved about his longer locks at the tour’s start in Seoul. “It suits you so well,” you’d said, twirling a strand around your finger, and boom—Dino was hooked. No scissors dared come near him after that.

Now, months into the tour, his hair was long—like, poking-his-eyes, flipping-it-back-every-chorus long. You were smitten. Every time he brushed it off his face mid-performance, you’d catch yourself grinning like a total sap. And the fans? They were just as feral. Facebook and tiktok were a battlefield of Dino hype: grainy soundcheck pics, fan cams of him shaking out his bangs, captioned with pure chaos. “If not boyfriend, then why boyfriend shape?” one fan demanded. Another fired off, “If not boyfriend, stop being boyfriendable, I’m on my knees.” Someone even joked, “Dino’s hair is longer than my last relationship—hide the scissors!”

Then there were the conspiracy theories. Fans were dissecting his glow like it was a crime scene. “No way he’s this fine without a girlfriend,” one wrote under a dreamy selca. “That hair, that smile—someone’s loving him right, and it’s not just carats.” Another added, “He’s too boyfriendable to be single. I bet he’s got a secret lover keeping him that shiny.”

You, his very real and very proud girlfriend, were thriving. Your phone was a shrine to this long-haired Dino era—your gallery overflowing with fan-taken soundcheck pics you’d saved from social media. Before your nightly video call ritual, you couldn’t resist texting him a screenshot of your camera roll: rows of Dino mid-hair-flip, looking ethereal. “Babe,” you typed, “I think I need a new phone. My storage’s crying—512GB isn’t enough for all this boyfriend material.”

Minutes later, Dino replied from his hotel room fresh off stage: “You’re ridiculous. How many pics do you even have?!” You smirked, firing back, “Enough to crash my phone. Blame the fans—they’re feeding my obsession.”

When the video call finally connected, there he was—sprawled on his bed, hair a gorgeous mess, still buzzing from the show. “Babe,” you said, smirking at him through the screen as you propped your phone up. “Your fans are wild. My gallery’s a disaster because of you—soundcheck pics are taking over my life. And they’re saying stuff like, ‘If not boyfriend, then why boyfriend shape?’ I’m dying.”

Dino laughed, that bright, heart-melting laugh you lived for, running a hand through his bangs only for them to flop right back. “Boyfriend shape? What am I, a Ken doll?”

“Pretty much,” you teased. “They’re also onto you. They’re like, ‘He’s glowing too much, he’s got a girlfriend for sure.’ They’re sniffing me out!”

He grinned, leaning closer to the camera. “Well, they’re not wrong. I’ve got the best girlfriend hoarding pics of me like a stalker. And didn’t someone beg me to keep the hair long because it ‘suits me so well’?”

You gasped, clutching your chest. “Okay, rude, calling me a stalker when I’m just appreciating art! But yeah, I did say that… and now I’m regretting it because the fans are out here calling you boyfriendable, and I’m over here like, ‘Back off, that’s my boyfriend shape!’”

Dino smirked, tilting his head so his hair fell even more into his eyes. “Oh, now you’re jealous? You were all, ‘Baby, it’s so sexy, never cut it,’ and now I’m too boyfriendable for you?”

“Exactly!” you shot back, giggling. “I’ve created a monster. My phone’s dying, the fans are feral—I might have to sneak into one of your concerts with scissors and chop those bangs off so they stop making edits of you looking like a K-drama lead.”

He clutched his hair protectively. “Don’t you dare! You’re the reason I’m out here looking like a mop with a skincare routine. This is your fault, babe.”

“A mop?!” you cackled. “More like a shiny, boyfriend-shaped mop. They’re right—you’re too pretty to be single. Good thing I’ve got you locked down.”

“Locked down?” he teased, pushing his hair back again. “You’re the one filling your phone with my pics. I’m keeping this mess because you love it and the fans love it. I’m winning for Team Long Hair.”

You sighed dramatically. “Fine, you win. But when the tour’s over, I’m braiding it. Maybe slapping a bow on it. Gotta remind them who’s got the real claim.”

Dino chuckled, smiling as he shook his head. “Deal. But I’m only this boyfriendable because of you, you know that, right?”

You softened, smiling back at him. “And I’m only this obsessed because of you, you know that, right?”

“Touché,” he said, blowing you a kiss through the screen. “Love you, stalker.”

“Love you too, boyfriend shape,” you replied, winking.

-----------------------------------------------------------an: please, I can’t get over Dino’s long hair pics from sound check—it’ll be my cause of ☠️😭

[lustlovehart]

I LOVE TWST monster au. It so cool and interesting!!! I'm INLOVE

I don't know if your taking requests or not but if you are I NEED to know more about Vil. Like have he every try to seduce you?? Like make you kiss him or worse 😳.

Anyway have a goodnight or goodday

Warnings: NSFW, some canon to the au, some past drafts, GN! Bodied Reader, Possession/Obsession

Ahaha… Funny you say this, in the monster list, Vil’s entire snippet was centered around reader and him being freaks before I realized I should tone it down 💀

First, Non-Canon/Draft stuff! The dynamic between reader and Vil was basically just

( They were fighting and then they somehow ended up in bed while they screamed hate at each other. When they were done they realized they lowkey liked it. )

Essentially, Vil is the only one in the monster cast who has ever been intimate with reader. In my mind, MH!Reader still understood it was wrong, so you never go all the way with him. You think this arrangement is completely reasonable, considering of firm Vil is on not letting you kill him. You’re entirely convinced he hates you, so letting him feed off you to feel the self indulgent pleasure of his tongue, is a fine arrangement.

Unbeknownst to you, every time he finds himself in the bed with you, he can only clench his nails. He’s been starving this whole time… Why? Because, contrary to you thinking he’s sapping your energy away, he hasn’t consumed a single piece of your vitality. Neither, has he seen anyone else to quench that desire.

It’s pathetic, he’s losing the soft feeling of his pure skin, simply cause he can’t bear the idea of slowly killing you. But, he doesn’t wanna do this with anyone else now. The only one he wishes to taste is you.

… Truly, what have you done to this all famed incubus?

Fun fact! The Incubus Vil fic I have written is actually before I changed this part of his lore, sooo, there might be a small chunk in there where it’s implied you and Vil had a freak off ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

And now onto Canon! This one will be a little vague to avoid heavy spoilers, but, you’re basically right! Vil does attempt to seduce reader, and it works, but only slightly.

Unlike MH!Reader previously, in the current au, they have a bit more self control, so you notice his seduction, and the sweet smell that wafts the air, but through simple will power, you push through the temptation.

There are several times where you wonder if you should just go through with it, but then you remember the hoard of monsters who act as your second shadow, the two monster hunters who will no doubt shoot Vil at every possible chance, and the angel Vil has a strong hatred for. Yeah, probably not the best choice.

Honestly, it ticks off Vil, but also is what makes him continue pursuing you. It would be easier to sleep with other people if you stopped looking at him with those eyes.

Yet, you don’t, so it’ll never happen.

[aka-indulgence]

I’ve been thinking of a combination of two ideas, I think one I’ve only mentioned on once on my tumblr

It stars of as a “HT!Sans scares you and stalks you a little” fic, where he lives in your area and you see him in your day to day. You’ll find him across the road, at the bus stop, behind you a couple nights, the grocery store. And oftentimes you find him openly staring at you. You hear he isn’t the friendliest guy in the neighborhood, doesn’t trust anyone and doesn’t speak much. You don’t think you’re a “judge a book by the cover”, but he genuinely unnerves you… maybe because his sockets widen and he starts breathing heavily when he’s looking at you. You barely interact with him aside from a few close encounters where he’s said nothing to you and you wonder if he wants to kidnap you, eat you, or both.

And that’s where you’re at with him when an unexpected disaster strikes: zombie apocalypse situation :O AGH (I hate zombie apocalypse stories but thinking about being with ht!sans makes me feel safe :3)

I imagine you’re somewhere public like the supermarket when it hits you, a (small?) hoard crashes into the store and starts attacking people. You don’t have a lot of things on you and you’re in the middle of your grocery run, you aren’t exactly alert or prepared when the bodies that refuse to die start going at you. You manage to run for a bit but you reach a dead end as they close in…

And HT!Sans shows up.

As soon as he realizes what’s happening, instead of running away from the hoard he runs into it, knowing you’re there, barreling through the rotting undeads, fighting to get you.

He takes crashes onto the scene, taking out the ones that had been tailing you. A beat passes where you pant in silence, staring at the hulking skeleton with the single red eye looking down at you. He looks like he wants to kill. You wonder if he was a worse monster than the zombies were. A sound sends him back into action, scooping you and throwing you over his shoulder like a potato sack, and runs out.

He takes you to a of survival bunkers he’s set up (a big shed thing with all the tools he needs to survive in the wild). He sets you down gently, and he asks you: … you… ok?

You find out he wasn’t trying to kill you. He tells you as such. He’s a gentle giant with you who wants to protect you. You crumple into him and sob just from the overwhelming situation… Sans’s mind kinda. Explodes for a moment. Because the little human he’s been pining on is hugging him.

Then after that the fic is you surviving with him. Had a scene where you have to take shelter somewhere not ideal, and you can hear a hoard nearby, and all you can do is hide in Sans’ hoodie and stay very still and quiet while he keeps watchful eye on the shamblers. Maybe going back to find your stuff at your home. Reuniting with Papyrus after being separated in the evacuation when Sans runs back to get you and tells him he’ll meet him at the camps. Making zombie shelter community, all that good stuff.

All I wanna say is, in zombie apocalypse, ht!sans is ideal

[writeaboutit]

Silly Abby Candy’s for Kids

Abby tries sneaking candy before Halloween and reader is not having it

Hellooo I’m in the mood to write some halloween themed stuff the rest of this month so stay tuned for a couple more stories!! Anyway just quickly wrote this which means there are deff mistakes on there. I’ll do my best to edit as I catch them but sorry in advance. Hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: Mainly fluff, tini tiny bit suggestive

Part 1: Donation Boot

Part 2: Damn the Chief

You grabbed yours and Abby’s dinner plates off of the dining room table and headed into the kitchen to deposit them in the sink.

Abby followed suit rolling up the place mats and grabbing both wine glasses, now empty.

There was a warm ember in your stomach from the alcohol just waiting to strike into a roaring fire.

At the sink you quickly rinsed the lingering bits of food off of the plates and slotted them into the dishwasher.

Before you could walk away from the sink however you hips were pined to the counter as Abby moved into the space behind you.

You giggled at her closeness, constantly feeling like a bumbling teenage version of yourself around her.

Your wife however acted if nothing was out of the ordinary. She went about her business swirling a bit of water in the bottom of the glass to rid them of the dried red line and placing them ever so gently onto the top was rack of the appliance.

Chills broke out across your neck as you felt her warm breath fan across your shoulder with each movement. This was seriously not helping the alcohol buzz.

You needed to clear your head before you both got distracted and wasted the rest of the night away. The idea of it was too enticing. Dangerous.

You bumped your bum back towards her hips, “Give me some space Anderson,”

She chuckled and placed a quick peck to your cheek, “Never Anderson,” though she complied and backed up and leaned against the opposite counter.

Next to her sat a big black bowl, or not really a bowl you guess, more of a cauldron. In it was mini individually wrapped candy bars.

Halloween was only a few days away and you had to get some treats before the grocery store shelves were bare. You’d hate to disappoint the neighborhood kids the night of.

Abby however thought it was dumb to buy all that candy. For some reason she was convinced you guys would only get two trick of treaters this year and then be stuck with three months worth of candy.

It wasn’t true of course, you were usually out of candy by 10 pm on Halloween night but Abby was more or less… a halloween Scrooge; at least when it came to kids taking the candy she was hoping to eat.

She complained about the candy but secretly she hoped no one would knock on that door come the 31st so she could hoard it all to herself like a dragon with gold.

She was already reaching into the cauldron as you dried your hands, trying to sneak a piece.

Not on your watch. You whipped the towel in her direction hitting the side of her thigh.

The movement made her jump in surprise. She looked over at you, the picture of innocence.

“What the hell was that for?”

You raised your eyebrows at her, “That candy is for the kids this weekend.”

“Oh come on one piece won’t hurt.” She tried to use her best begging eyes.

It was not going to work, at least not when it came to the candy but the wine was getting to your head now and other ideas came to mind.

You walked past her only slowing to grab her belt loop and drag her behind you.

“Where are we going?” She asked as the pair of you trailed over to the staircase.

You stopped at the base and turned to look up at her, “You can’t have the candy as dessert,” you paused for dramatic effect and whipped your baggy t shirt over your head. What can you say you have a flare for the dramatics, “but I have a better one for you, if you want it of course?”

Abby’s mouth hung open in surprise before she finally gathered herself, “Hell yes.”

You spun around to run up the stairs, giggling as Abby chased behind you.

[sailorscout93]

Okay attempt number 2 at posting why I personally think Galinda Upland is a high masking AuDHD person after I saw a post pegging Elphaba as Autisitic and Galinda as ADHD:

See under the cut

1. She’s very clearly high energy/hyperactive, always busy, never stops talking, the way she talks it seems like that’s how her brain works, just running and running constantly.

2. She speaks what’s on her mind without thinking about how what she says may affect those around her. “You’re green!” It very much gives me “If you’re from Africa why are you white?” From Mean Girls vibes. (And yes, I do think Karen Smith is autistic too lol)

3. She has 2 special interests: being Popular and sorcery. I mean, aside from just being a huge gay flamingo mating dance, Popular also feels like a giant infodumping session of Galinda onto Elphie. She’s sharing all the knowledge she has on one of her favorite topics. The works she puts in to following her hearts desire to be a sorceress, saying how it’s her hearts desire. She would do anything to be able to do magic and I personally think she has the knowledge behind it, even if she doesn’t have the magic ability in her in the way Madame Morrible is looking for. She recognizes that Elphaba was the one who did the magic in the courtyard at Shiz and she begs Elphaba to share how she did it, even though she claims to loathe her. She thinks Elphaba knows something about her special interest that she doesn’t so she MUST find out!

4. I know the suitcases and trunks all her stuff is in is partially because of the lack of closet space in the dorm room but while it seems like everything has its place, drawers are labeled, etc… it’s still very cluttered. She just has SO. MUCH. STUFF. A little bit of hoarding. She cannot bear to get rid of anything because what if she needs it one day?! (I.E. the hat her grandmother made her!)

5. Speaking of the hat. I don’t think she actually hates it. It may not be her style, but her grandma made it for her! When Pfannee pulled the hat out and he and ShenShen started hating on it and Galinda turned around, it took her a moment to read her friend’s tones. You can see for a second her expression looks neutral but contemplative when she’s looking at Pfannee before it changes and she starts to hate on the hat. She had to take a second to read and process her friend’s tone before she responded so she could have the correct reaction her friends were expecting from her.

6. The ‘toss toss’ and ‘leg’ things are both stims. You cannot change my mind.

7. Why is she so high masking? Because her momsie and popsicle conditioned her to hide any trait of hers that could seen as “undesirable” or “unladylike”. She’s Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands after all! She has a reputation to live up to!

8. After the Ozdust Ballroom night when she and Elphie become friends, she quickly becomes attached to her. Elphie becomes her “safe person” and she develops an attachment to her that I see frequently in neurodiverse people. She always wants to be around her and she is always holding her hand and touching her because she’s so comfortable with Elphaba. She finally has someone she can unmask around.

9. Speaking of Elphie…. Galinda shows some HEAVY Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria in the deleted scene “Elphaba’s Promise”. She is sad and hurt, not that Elphie and Fiyero were doing something without her, but that Elphie “chose” Fiyero to help her rescue the cub, not Galinda. “If you needed someone, you could’ve picked me!” Breaks my heart every time!

10. She seems to have a little bit of rigid thinking when it comes to Dr. Dillamond not being able to pronounce her name. She seems to think if she just keeps repeating the correct way to say it, he’ll eventually get it and not understanding that he’s physically not capable of pronouncing her name correctly because of his lack of upper front teeth, even when it’s explained to her.

11. This last one is very much a stretch (pun not originally intended this time lol) but I’m putting it in too, hypermobility issues are a very high comorbidity with autism and when she’s dancing around during Popular she does a high kick. Could it just be athleticism? Maybe. Could it be a hypermobility thing? Also maybe.

[batwritings]

Sorry if im requesting too much, im just obsessed with your works jehdhdvudvsudvsj

How about dragon!Price with a crow!reader? I’ve seen a lot of people making him a dragon, and crows tend to have the same shiny-hoarding thing going on, so it’s kind of a match made in heaven. Maybe things really kick off when Price’s shedding his scales while our crow reader is getting a lot of nesting urges, causing the reader to take a couple of the shiny scales for her nest. Eventually, when her heat arrives, she realizes her mistake. Her nest smells so much like Price, it’s unbearable.

Sure, they had always been pretty close, due to him being her captain and their tendencies to gift each other shiny items, but this was a bit different. At some point, Price goes ahead and checks on his lovely crow friend. While he’s expecting to just stop by to see how she’s incorporated his scales into the inner workings of her nest, he ends up staying for longer than anticipated..

-Hybrid

Okay but this is such a cute concept. Putting the horny brain aside, I can just see you and Price exchanging or comparing shiny stuff that you found on missions or on shore leave at least once a week. Ugh, too cute! Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Price had always had this sort of deal as it were. Your respective species both had an affinity for shiny objects, your captain being a dragon and hording the stuff and you as a crow, just doing it because...well, you could! It was always intriguing to see the different things the both of you would bring to the table after a long away mission.

You weren't entirely sure when you started doing it, but it took a little longer than you would like to realize the consequences to your actions. See, your dear captain had to shed his scales every once in again, their beautiful bronze catching in the light that really sparked a fondness to your one-track crow brain. And with your nest coming together a little disappointingly, you figured they'd be an excellent addition. Not like Price would miss them, he still had plenty to go around.

Yet as your heat grew closer and closer, you couldn't help but get your mind off the familiar and comforting smell of cigars and gunpowder. It was only when you woke up one more, your body deep within your mating cycle that you realized it. You needed your Captain, and you needed him now.

Thankfully for you, from being around you so frequently, Price seemed to be very well aware of when something wasn't quite right with you. Any time you had seemed remotely off, it was as if your captain had a bit of a sixth sense. So you shouldn't have been surprised to hear the couple solid knocks on your barrack door before it opened with a quiet squeak.

"Y/N? You alright?" the man called, voice low in case he was disturbing you. Your whine in response did nothing to assuage his fears, causing the dragon to burst in a little further. "Hey now what's--"

The man stopped in his tracks when he caught onto your scent. "You've started your heat," he mumbled, more to himself than to you, who was painfully aware. "Oh love, why didn't you say something?" He's quick to approach your nest, bright eyes flicking between you and the mess of blankets, pillows, and other shiny things including his scales.

"John...!~" You whimper, wings fluttering in irritation as you push yourself up onto your knees. Price takes the hint, stepping gingerly into your nest, making himself a spot behind you. He covers you, bringing your hips back so they align with his. His wings create a sort of barrier, as if he was trying to shield you from the world.

"I've got you sweetheart, I've got you," the dragon coos, helping your deft hands to slip down your sleep shorts and underwear. The heady scent that follows from your sex being on display earns a low growl as his member twitches eagerly beneath grey sweats. He's quick to pull his cock free, rubbing it along your cunt to soak it in your slick.

"Sing for me love," Price huffs, slowly sliding inside you. You moan so beautifully for him, reveling in the lovely way he fills and stretches you, the way his claws prick at your skin as they hold you in place so as not to hurt you with rushing the penetration. All the while, your captain is littering you in praise, breathing heavier now as he bottoms out inside you.

It doesn't take more than a few desperate chirps and coos from you to urge him to fuck you in earnest. To say the Brit had been wanting this for some time now would be a great understatement. So to be able to finally have you, take you, claim you, made this so much more tempting.

His hips stutter to a halt when you finally reach your climax, claws trailing over the spot where your gorgeous ebony wings meet your shoulders. You shudder and moan under Price's ministrations, trilling when you feel his claws against your skin and feathers. "Feeling better love?" The dragon rumbles, kissing sweetly at the back of your neck.

You nod breathlessly, hand reaching back to rub where you could of his skin in thanks. "How'd you know to find me here?" You ask, still a little amazed at this ability your captain had. The man only chuckles lowly.

"Well I was wondering where my scales had been disappearing to."

[slashers-and-rats]

the need to gnaw.

brahms heelshire x fem!reader | nsfw | oral fixation, titty sucking, somnophilia

rat chat: I’m in a bit of a creative rut, so don’t be mad if this isn’t the best piece of writing i’ve ever done. I’m trying.

brahms had many a bad habit.

you had credited it to the fact that he lived in the walls of his childhood home for nearly 30 years. it had been something that you struggled with at first. the very idea that he had been seemingly packed away, thrown into the crawl spaces like some discarded family heirloom, made your heart ache. it was even worse when he had come out, and you had to see all of the different coping mechanisms he had developed to stay alive. he never ate a full meal, and hid scraps away in his pockets as he didn’t know when he’d be out of hiding to get food again. he went as long as he could without changing his clothes, because there wasn’t often an option for something clean. he was selfish with his things, scared that if he put them down he’d never find it again, or it would be taken from him. he slept in a near nest of his favourite dolls and collectibles, even some of your own clothes had found their way into the pile. stealing had been another point on your list.

these were all things you had worked to ween him off of. you encouraged him to sit and eat a whole meal with you, reassuring him the food wouldn’t go anywhere. when he was full, you would stop him from taking the extras, stating that you could always make him more later. it didn’t have to be scraps for snacks, he was allowed to be in the kitchen whenever he wanted. you had even set up special cupboards for him, so that he knew that anything inside he could take without asking, and you made sure to stock it with his favourite treats.

you got him new outfits. it was one of the first things you did, after seeing him wear the same thing over and over for a week. you explained that there wasn’t much point in bathing him every night if he was going to put back on the same stuff, and so you ordered him nice, comfy clothes (wifi being something you had also gotten around the same time). you had to compromise with his sweater, as it was something he was quite attached to, and so when he would take it off for bed, you’d stay up and get it washed and dried right for when he was up in the morning. you did the same thing with his mask during these times, scrubbing and rinsing it in warm water, drying it carefully with a cloth, before setting it back exactly where he put it. you did it once every week, deciding that spending one night up passed bedtime was worth making sure he was taken care of.

you cleaned up his space, and taught him to not hoard the things he had. this had been more difficult. he was a selfish boy, it was a trait he learned out of necessity. he was scared to lose what little things he had. this even applied to you too, as whenever you’d leave to go do some shopping, or someone would deliver something to the house, you’d have to stop him from having a tantrum. you started off small. he had invited you into his crawlspace one day, and by the next evening it had been tidied and his things had been organized. the trinkets and bobbles he played with were put into bins, and you had to explain to him that holding onto everything wasn’t good. he was especially scolded for stealing your own favourite clothes, and you tried to ignore when you pulled a panty or two out of the piles around his little sanctuary.

he didn’t like some of these changes. he didn’t like it when you cleaned up his nest, because the feeling was new and uncomfortable. change was odd. but, whenever he saw how happy you looked, he felt as though he could handle it. it quickly became a routine for you both. you’d do something new, and he’d adapt at a slow but steady pace. over time, he pushed back less and less, and soon you had him being a fairly well-behaved, as healthy as possible, grown man.

some habits stayed. after all, you didn’t want to change him completely. you only adjusted what wasn’t good for him. things like wearing the mask, sneaking treats when you weren’t looking, whining when he had to take a bath at the end of the day- these were things you could handle. he may ruin an appetite, or prolong the inevitable cleaning, but you could handle that.

one habit, though, seemed to be getting worse and worse as time went on.

when brahms had first slinked out of the walls, and had refused to even give you a peek of his face, it wasn’t noticeable. you couldn’t see his features, or the way his teeth would chew the inside of his cheeks and on his lips. he’d retreat back into his sanctuary at the end of the day, and you wouldn’t know he was sucking on his fingers as he slept, or gnawing on a random toy you had bought him.

you didn’t ever notice his oral fixation until it began to directly affect you. it started small. as you lived in the house, and grew accustomed to having this odd version of a roommate, you two became more comfortable with each other. the second brahms had learned physical affection was on the table, it was all he wanted. you’d find yourself preparing lunch, with his arms wrapped around your middle and his face pressed into the crook of your neck. when you were reading, he’d have his head in your lap, and cheek pressed tight to your stomach. he held your hand when you two walked through the halls together, he urged you to kiss him more and more every time you tucked him in.

he slept in his own room, but you knew that sometimes he’d sneak into your bedroom when he thought you were asleep, and he’d just run his fingers over your cheek. he was too nervous to do anything else, but it always seemed to make him so flustered anyways. such simple things seemed to overwhelm him, and you supposed that after years of being alone, you’d be the same way.

these two things collided over time; his oral fixation and his need for human contact. or, more specifically, you’re contact. he had never thought to touch anyone else before, but when you had come around… he wondered for a long time if the magic spoke of in books were real, and if you had cursed him. it was a long conversation when that had idea had been poised to you.

it had started slow. one day, as you were cuddling with him, you felt his lips mouthing over your collarbone. it wasn’t hard enough to be noticeable, it was soft and light, and you had assumed it was just his breathing. when you kissed him goodnight, and your thumb rubbed over his mask, he’d get brave and slip it underneath the chin of the porcelain, and kiss the pad of your finger. you never noticed, but right before you’d pull away, he’d try to slip it past his teeth and against his tongue. when you held him as he was fretting over something, he’d bite down on your shirt, as it was the closest thing to your skin he could find. he didn’t want to hurt you, he was afraid that would scare you off, but he wanted to feel you in between his teeth. he wanted you to fill his mouth and relieve this constant urge he had. he couldn’t take it. something about you, and how soft you were, and how sweet you looked- he wanted to devour you. but, at the same time, he just wanted to rest his lips around your fingers and suck on them as one would a pacifier.

there had been one night in particular where you finally felt the extent of his obsession.

the moon had been high in the sky, and small streams of its light trickled in through the window. it shone across you both. you were wrapped tight in brahms’ arms, legs tangled like intricately tied knots. his upper limbs coiled around your torso, and pressed your chest tight against his cheek. his mask had been discarded the second the lights went out for the night, and his sweater had been shucked off in exchange for his boxers and tank top for bedtime. he was comfortable, and felt safe being with you like this. he didn’t want to let go.

that was posing a personal problem to him. as you slept soundly, brahms became restless. he needed something in his mouth. the empty space was becoming a distraction for him, and it made him wriggle and squirm in frustration. if he moved his hands, though, he wouldn’t be able to hold you as closely. it wasn’t an option. after all the work you had done to ease him out of his more selfish traits, he still found that same fear of loss looming over him. to him, if he let go of you now, you might wake up, and scold him for being up so late into the night. you’d tell him sleeping in the same bed as you was a distraction, and that he should’ve been resting long ago, and that he’d have to go to his room. he didn’t want to. the very thought made him tighten his grasp around you.

he swallowed thick, the sound echoing through the near silent room. all that could be heard was your gentle, rhythmic breathing, and brahms’ own worrying. it came in the sound of shifting sheets and small whimpers. he was growing impatient. he didn’t like it. he was tired, admittedly, but that wouldn’t be enough to numb his urges. he needed something, anything.

as he was quietly squirming, looking for any solution to his ever growing problem, his cheek brushed against your breast. as it slid over his skin, he felt a small bump skid past the corner of his lips. brahms had rested his head on your chest many a time before, but you usually had multiple layers on, or weren’t so vulnerable. this time, as you slept unaware of the current situation, your body had reacted to something he didn’t understand. maybe it was the contact with his face, or the press of his body against yours that entire night, but your nipples had grown hard.

he had to pull back his head to get a better look, surprised. you had been taking certain “anatomy lessons” slowly. he didn’t know much about your body, or his own for that matter, but he had heard you vaguely mention your nipples getting hard when it was cold. the few times you two had gotten intimate, he had caught you squeezing them in between your fingers as he ground his hips in between your thighs, and he’d take over for you, ever the one to please.

this was different, though. in this moment, when he was overrun with this eagerness to be full, something so simple and cryptic before was seeming to make total sense to him now. he examined your chest for a moment, watching the way your shirt rose in perfect little dots around the centres of your tits. it made him lick his lips. his eyes darted up once, twice, three times, and when he found you were still deep in rem, he took a chance.

he was slow, his face creeping up to your chest until his lips wrapped around the clothed bud. for a moment, once he was attached, he didn’t move. he waited, listening through the dark to make sure you hadn’t begun to stir, and when he didn’t hear anything he continued. he licked tentatively, wetting the fabric of your pyjama shirt and playing with it between his teeth. he stayed gentle, at first, barely moving.

it felt right. he liked the way his breath warmed the area around your nipple, and the damp heat felt good on his lips. the wetter he made the cotton, the more he could see through to what he was playing with. he pulled away every once in awhile to examine his work, and gaze down at the transparent fabric where your nipple lay hard and quickly swelling for him. it made him lick his lips, wanting more, and so he’d dive back in, continuing to lap softly over this new found toy.

quickly, though, he found it wasn’t enough. the shirt was scratchy against his skin, and it turned cold quick whenever he pulled away to catch his breath. he could feel your warm skin trapped underneath the confines of your clothes. he wanted to save you from it; he could be a knight, like in one of the books from the library, and release you from the ivy you were wrapped in.

he was careful as he dipped his head down. he at first used his nose to nudge the fabric up, wrinkling it enough that he could grab the end with his teeth and hoist it up past your tits. they fell out against the bed, and the very sight made him whimper quietly in his throat. this was a new feeling. sure, he had taken you before, but the act had always been a little restrained. he didn’t understand all the movements and strides yet, and he found it was easier when you simply told him what to do and he followed along. you weren’t awake right now, though, and instead he had to figure this all out himself. at the same time, his oral fixation was something that never tended to get very sexual. usually when he chewed on things it was a necessity, otherwise he’d be belligerent and at unease. but this… it had started as a need, but became a hunger.

brahms pressed his face into the squish of your boobs. he ran his lips up and down them for a moment, feeling how the skin rippled and shifted against his own. you were so warm, so comfortable. he breathed in your scent deep, wrapping himself even further in your aura. it all felt so nice. his heart had truly been soothed.

he pulled away once again, blinking a few times to adjust his eyes better to the dark, before looking up at you. you looked peaceful, seemingly dreaming of something pleasant. he wondered if you were dreaming of him. he pressed his body closer to yours, one of his thighs sliding in between your own and pressing taut up against your clothed pussy. he could feel heat, and a growing dampness. maybe him playing with you was making you react? he liked that idea. he liked the idea of toying with you, and making you feel good even when you weren’t aware. it made him feel somewhat powerful. but, he knew he could never rise above you. you were his everything, and for this very moment, he was only mimicking what he knew you could do to him at any moment.

he wanted to continue to make you unknowingly react, and he wanted to continue to fill his mouth. so, he did both. he licked a stripe over your hard bud, shivering when he felt your warm skin searing his tongue. your lower half moved, barely noticeable if you hadn’t been so close, and dragged along his thigh. he gasped quietly against your skin. the breath against your nerves seemed to make you twitch slightly, and he caught it. he liked that little twitch, a small sign of sentience within you. you weren’t just some silly toy he hoarded in his walls, and you weren’t just something to play with. you were a living, breathing, beautiful woman. but still his.

he opened his mouth and blew hot against your chest again, watching as your muscles tightened and released yet again. it made him shudder. he couldn’t resist much more, and wrapped his mouth back around your now bare nipple. he filled his cheeks with as much surrounding flesh as he could, sucking and tonguing over your breast.

he felt somewhat nervous. if you woke up and saw him like this, indulging in you so shamelessly, he didn’t know what you’d think. would you kick him out of the room and punish him? or would you push his head firmer against your chest and moan out pretty like he’s heard before? he wondered if you’d even bat an eye, and just opt to going back to sleep and thinking it was all a dream.

it felt as though brahms brain was a blender, and as the thoughts plopped one by one into the container, they were shredded away and turned to nothing but mush. he didn’t have the room in his brain to think of anything but your body, and how perfectly it fit against him. he held you fast, and suckled hard at your tits, and moaned soft around the skin. he ground his hips without thinking into your hip, and purred and whimpered with every movement.

he pulled away with a soft pop after a minute or two of this, once again looking upon his masterpiece. a hickey was forming on your chest, quickly becoming a deep burgundy colour. at first, it worried him. if you saw that, surely you’d know what he had done. but then, it settled in his stomach, and fed into that burning desire that crackled there. he liked seeing you marked up as his, he liked being able to use you when he pleased, he liked being able to play you like an instrument even when you were asleep. he liked it all. he especially liked the way you seemed to release him of all his tension without even trying. you didn’t have to do anything, and yet you did everything.

he pressed his face in between your tits, letting the weight rest on either side of his cheeks. he rubbed his cock softly up and down your upper thigh and waist, panting hard and heating up the space underneath him. he didn’t even care his clothes were still on, if he focused hard enough, he could imagine what he wanted to truly do to you.

he wanted to flip you onto your back, and squeeze every bit of skin he could find. he wanted to watch as your flesh poured through his slim fingers, and how you squeezed your soft thighs around his waist. he wanted to hear you tell him he could do what he wanted, and give him that gentle permission to ravage your chest and cover it in bites and marks. he wanted to gnaw on you, and treat you like a dog treats a bone. but he wouldn’t destroy you, no, he’d be decorating you, claiming you as his own. every drag of his hips and buck against your body made the fantasy burn brighter.

in his head, brahms was being animalistic. he was rutting into you hard, and growling, and he was the one shoving his fingers into your mouth to keep you quiet. but in reality, he was the exact opposite. he sobbed quietly into your breasts, gathering up your nipple in his mouth once again to keep his sounds quiet, while humping your leg. he was feeling the same amount of pleasure as he would then, it just stayed subdued deep in his chest. he didn’t want to wake you, not when he was enjoying this so much.

he pulled you closer, flattening his hands against your lower back and pressing your hips flush against his own. the shift must have stirred something in you, because while you may have continued to sleep, you tightened your grip on the man beside you. it made brahms groan, squeezing his eyes tight at an attempt to not scream right then, and bite down hard on your nipple so that you’d scream too. he thought he’d like that sound, but would prefer if it was out of pleasure.

you held to him tight, unconsciously pressing his face deeper into your tits. he wrapped his mouth just around your nipple, suckling on it and muffling his quiet moans. he came in his boxers from barely anything. he shivered against you, trembling and gripping onto you, holding you close as he tried to quell the waves of pleasure running up and down his body.

his mind had emptied then, nothing inside except for the thought of you and his new found teething toys. as he shuddered, rutting out the last few shocks of an orgasm, he popped his mouth from your chest. he was satisfied for the time being. he was too spent to clean himself, too relaxed and comfortable to even dare untangle himself from you. no, he didn’t even try. he tucked his face under your chin, and shut his eyes, finally able to find peace and sleep.

in the morning, when you woke up, you were a bit surprised to find your shirt pulled up, and brahms still attached to you. often he got up before you, and put his usual comforts back in place, before starting his own day of roaming the house. but he remained at your side that morning, face hidden in your shoulder.

you took note of the wet spot in his underwear, and the dried saliva on your chest, and the purpling hickey ironed onto your skin like a patch. at first, you felt a bit confused. how had you not woken up…? but then, seeing him so content and calm, you didn’t feel all too bad. secretly, deep down, on those nights he entered into your room and touched you like a delicate flower, you had wanted him to take you in a more physical way. your wish had been granted in some regards.

[tj-dragonblade]

For the Make me write game… I just noticed that it seems to be acceptable to send more than one icon. I shall tentatively do this as well (since I’d really like to read snippets of all of these), and if this is too much, absolutely feel free to take your pick!

🔎🛋️🍷

Oh yes, multiples are always welcome, and thank you! Even if I'm moving slowly on answering. Search agency picks up directly after the last snippet in the tag; the bit from the next Turbo Lover fic and the future one don't have anything posted yet that precedes them.

🔎

"And what, I'm just supposed to take your word it's stolen? What proof you got it's even yours?"

The guy behind the counter is presenting as fully human, unlike the naiad at the last place, but there's something about his eyes that points Hob toward 'dragon'. He's leaning forward aggressively over the display with the fuckoff-big ruby pendant in it, hands splayed on the glass top, glaring. A dragon running a pawn shop around its hoard is a remarkable sort of poetry and Hob would be delighted if the guy wasn't being such a knob.

Dream, to Hob's delight, is utterly unruffled in the face of this hostility. He sighs in a way that conveys boredom and long-suffering indulgence, as if this entire exchange is beneath him but needs must. He raises one hand slightly, makes a small gesture toward the display case and the ruby within begins to glow, levitating off the velvet stand it sits on.

"Hey!" The proprietor jerks back, startled, and Dream lowers his hand; the ruby drops again and stops glowing. He returns his gaze to the stunned dragon behind the counter and raises one eyebrow, silently waiting to see if the guy's gonna offer rebuttal.

"Alright alright, you got a claim to it. I bought it off that lady fair and square though, I had no idea it was stolen! And I'm out a good chunk of cash if I just give it to you!"

🛋️

Dream is stretched and slick, but obviously he's had the toy in all night and while the friction that develops as the lube thins out is good for a moment, it quickly becomes too much, uncomfortable. "Need more lube, darling," Hob pants, pulling out reluctantly.

Dream fumbles into the inner breast pocket of his suit jacket and hands a slim tube over his shoulder without a word, breathing hard. Hob can't help the delighted chuckle that escapes him; of course Dream is prepared, of course it's the good stuff. He slathers it onto his dick, strokes the excess into the rim of Dream's hole and sinks back into him with a groan of relief, squeezing Dream's hips as he sets into a steady measured rhythm. Part of him wants to pound hard and fast and get them both there as soon as possible after the work up Dream had given him in the limo. Part of him wants to calm down just a hair and draw this out, carry the frenzied need as long as he can, and it's that part that wins out.

"Can't believe you're real, sometimes," he pants, splitting his focus with words meant to also wind Dream tighter. "I mean. Course you're real, you're here, I can feel you"—he thrusts in, grinds deep, and Dream gasps a breathless cry—"but I just. You picked me, you let me have you; feels too good to be true and god, I'm so lucky—"

🍷

"My mother is hosting her annual winter gala next month," Dream says over breakfast one morning, nonchalantly but with a gleam in his eye that gives Hob pause. "Would you like to come, as my plus-one?"

Hob lowers his teacup back to its saucer, studying Dream's face. "I know that look," he says, letting a grin settle on his mouth. "There is something devious going on in your mind, love. Let's have it."

Dream schools his expression to something approaching innocence. "First, and foremost, I am inviting you because I enjoy your company and would like you to accompany me. I would like to be seen with you, to show you off."

"There's more though, isn't there."

"Yes. And before I detail it for you, I wish to be clear that you are welcome to turn down the invitation; I understand that my ulterior motives are somewhat…distasteful."

"Oh?" Hob arches an eyebrow.

"Insulting, even."

Hob crosses his arms, that eyebrow still up, interest plainly written on his face.

Make me write!

[tales-of-wocdes]

How would lexia Harvard and the ancient grandpa react to finding out mc has made a cult and recruited the twins. Like they stumble upon mc babeling nonsense about the void cookies and shiny stuff, while they all wear to big black robes in a dark room with a bunch of lights and an actual sacrificial lamb on the table that’s about to be sacrificed by mc.

That's quite a situation. It really depends on the lamb for Havard and Lexia, while the void part for the Ancient (for whom the lamb is secondary, no matter how cute it is).

Let's assume that the lamb is real as you state, and MC is really trying to sacrifice it for whatever reason that I will improvise below.

---------------------------------------------------

"Kid, what the fuck?" Lexia asked, confiscating the lamb in a swift move and grabbing your sacrificial fork. "Cookies, shiny stuff and whatever is all fine, but no killing cute critters. Just stick to stealing things from the kitchen and everything not nailed down."

You stare at her. Why not? You tilt your head, confused. She even used a bad word.... what did you do? You just wanted more of the delicious cookies. The cookies whisper to you... They promise you things... Like more delicious cookies.

"Seriously, kid. It's not ok. As in no snacks for a month ok."

You pale... That is a serious level of not ok... and that is Lexia's estimate. That is much less severe than Havard's level of not ok so far in all cases.

You drop the fork, and make your best "I am sorry face."

-----------------------------------------------------

"MC, stop." Havard's voice stopped you in your tracks, sacrificial fork high in the air. "What are you doing? Why are you trying to kill that lamb?" He was calm, but you think he was a little mad at you.

You stare at the lamb, then Havard, then back at the lamb... but the cookies? They call to you! You want more! The voices said you could get more!

Yet, Havard's gaze makes you yield. You drop the fork, and make your best "I am sorry" face.

Havard narrows his eyes. "We shall discuss the consequences later. Now, free that poor sheep."

------------------------------------------------

The Ancient calmly took in the scene... The twins chanting, you raising the fork... Your hoard. Then his gaze locked onto the "void cookies."

You were still chanting and raising the fork, about to plunge the fork down into the lamb...

The Ancient lifted a finger. There was a flash of light, and the "void cookies" got destroyed in tiny blue fireball.

"Do let the lamb go. I need to track down where those cookies came from." The Ancient just walked away.

Huh... what just happened? Why is there a lamb? Why do you have a fork?

----------------------

"Wait.... killing?" Azha asked, looking at the lamb. "I thought it was play time!" She seems indignant. "I am not playing if the cute lamb gets killed!" She said. "Come on Atru!" She gave you a betrayed look and dashed away. Atru gave you a blank look and dashed away after his sister.

--------------------

So, I came up with potentially sentient cursed cookies... Snippets don't get revised so I am running with it. Not enough time in the world if I do too much revising these things :d Thanks for 11k browser plays :D

[3terna15unshin3]

a blurb of them at a halloween party would heal me!! (smut but also super cutie cus they’re my babies)

Kneel

—

a/n: hey bff thank u for the request and happy halloween :-)

Read the main fic here if u want more Matty and Este!

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cw: 18+, minors DNI, alcohol consumption, kinky religious undertones that will hit hard if you’ve seen Fleabag season 2, oral (m receiving), dom!matty vibes ish, praise, cumplay maybe??, also a bit wordy at the start lol

Matty zipped up the back of her jumpsuit for her, since Este couldn’t reach it herself. She was in the midst of covering her nose and mouth with fake blood.

“Easy with that stuff, hey? You’re going to make it impossible for me to kiss you,” he complained, making eye contact with her through the mirror in front of them.

She laughed, running her hands under the tap to wash the excess red off her hands, and then turned around. Her arms raised to adjust the Roman collar surrounding his neck. “A bit of blood has never stopped you in the past.”

His jaw dropped. “We’ll have to put some time aside for confession tonight, with that dirty mind of yours.” He said with a chuckle, playing up the priest costume suited over his body and shaking his head at her suggestive joke.

“I’ll hold you to that offer, actually.” Este giggled.

Before heading out the door, she stole a cigarette from the box in Matty’s pocket to hold between her fingers as a prop—her other hand cradling a small stuffed guinea pig. Fleabag was their favourite show, after all.

When they arrived at Charli’s, music was pulsating through the floorboards and hoards of people filled the space. She was great at throwing a party, so that’s what was expected.

Matty had handfuls of friends to greet but he did it all with his hand still linked with hers or around her waist. By now, they were mostly familiar faces, so it didn’t phase her. Many complimented their costumes; and those who didn’t recognise it, got an earful from Este about how the show it was in reference to was an absolute must-watch. Matty, who was slightly less passionate about spreading the Fleabag agenda, just sat back and watched in adoration. He loved seeing her addiction to sharing things she loves with others.

He also shamelessly basked in the feeling of being called ‘hot priest’ by everyone. If anyone called him just the ‘priest’, he’d correct them, and Este would roll her eyes.

By the time they’d gone round to see everyone, Ross (dressed as Indiana Jones) had shoved drinks into their hands, and had even come back a second time with more rounds. They were buzzed before settling into a spot in the corner of the lounge where the rest of the guys and their partners had gotten comfortable.

After him and Este pulled each of them in for an embrace, Matty took the last free seat and grabbed her by the waist to sit down on his lap.

“Welcome, welcome,” Charli loudly greeted over the music, while hanging onto George’s shoulder, “You guys have gotten some drinks right? You’re good? I’ve got some off limits special stuff I’m willing to share if you want anything more,”

Este thanked her for the offer but shook her head. “Ross had us very taken care of the minute we walked in, so I think we’re all good,”

Ross raised his glass and nodded his head at the mention of his chronic need to make sure that nobody ever had an empty hand.

“You look hot, by the way,” commented Carly, earning a wide smile from Este as she eyed her and Adam and their costumes. They were dressed as the twins from The Shining.

“I’d say the same about you babe. But not hotter than Hann, unfortunately,” She replied, giggling at his blonde wig. He flicked the fake hair upwards with sass in response to her compliment, making the whole group laugh.

Matty’s hands stayed there on her hips for the next few hours, only removing themselves periodically when they got up to mingle or to get another drink or when Este heard a song she wanted to dance to. But otherwise, his touch was glued to her.

It was starting to drive him crazy that that was all he could do, though. She grew increasingly flirty with him as the night went on; making sure to grind her ass deeper into his lap every time she towered forward to grab crisps off the coffee table, or leaning her back into his chest to turn and give him a kiss on the jaw, or leaving her hand way too far up his thigh. Matty wanted more—but she couldn’t give him that.

Then, Charli brought her point-and-shoot camera out and people began to pose. Everyone messily heaped into groups and threw middle fingers and peace signs up and the camera flashed repeatedly. Once most guests and their costumes were captured at least a couple of times, she came over to Este and grabbed her by the arm.

“We need a photo, E! Come outside,”

The excited and tipsy host made Este stand with her, serving looks down the lens and playfully posing together.

“Wait! I should light my cig!” exclaimed Este, still holding the unlit one between her fingers. She reached around the corner for Matty and gestured to his pocket, wordlessly asking him to do it for her.

Este insisted on holding eye contact with him as she grasped the smoke between her lips and he held the flame underneath its end. It made Matty swoon, seeing her suck her cheeks in and then blow the smoke out the side of her mouth.

She enjoyed a joint and its high here and there, but wasn’t as big of a smoker as him, and was rarely caught messing with nicotine. So, the sight was a bit unusual—and it turned Matty on.

After more photos with Charli, Este shoved her phone into her hand and dragged Matty into the frame. He complied, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist and giving the lens his attention. They smiled together, earning a collective ‘aw’ from the people around the room who looked.

They took turns altering expressions, some serious and some silly (like when Este stood proudly while Matty grabbed her tits from behind, peeking his head out to the side); all while she only held the lit cigarette without smoking it.

But for one photo, Matty watched her take a drag. She then looked up at him through her black eyelashes, and leaned in without saying anything. Gulping, he followed her action and leaned in as well, realising that Este wanted to shotgun the smoke she’d just inhaled.

So he parted his lips and breathed in as she blew the smoke into them, locking her gaze again. He felt the buzz immediately, and Este smirked with just millimetres between them before pulling away.

Matty swore he felt his dick twitch in his pants—and even thought he saw Este squeeze her legs together in his peripheral vision. Luckily, he also saw Charli capture the moment with both her camera and Este’s iPhone, so at least he’d have evidence that it actually happened. And that he didn’t just dream it up.

“Okay, you guys are sexy. I get it. Can you take some of me and George now?”

—

Este’s behaviour wasn’t innocent and unknowing. He knew she was riling him up on purpose. So in return, as soon as they stepped foot back into their shared house, Matty had her pinned against the wall. They’d barely made it into the corridor.

She gasped, but quickly gave in and kissed him with hunger.

“Something wrong, Father?” Este asked breathily, breaking away for air and tugging at his collar.

His hands tangled in her hair and yanked it backwards to make her head tilt up. “You’ve been very sinful tonight,”

Their lips hungrily reconnected, kissing with open mouths. Este grabbed him over his pants, drawing a hiss out of Matty. She then felt his hand trail up from her waist, over her chest, and onto her neck. He pressed lightly on the sides of her throat. She moaned into his mouth.

“Will you forgive me if I repent?” She asked, while slipping her fingers past his waistband.

“We’ll see. Only if you’re good for me,” Matty answered in a low voice. He grew rock hard as Este pumped him up and down a couple times in his pants. He breathed heavily and made pretty sounds when she dragged her thumb over his sensitive tip.

“I will. I swear,” begged Este.

“Then kneel.”

Sinking to her knees, she took his length out of his pants and gave it a kiss like she was worshipping it. Her flattened tongue ran up its underside from the base, taking his head into her mouth when she reached the top.

Matty shuddered, cradling her jaw with his palm. “Fuck,” he choked out.

She swirled her tongue around him before taking a breath and bringing him farther. His cock hit the back of her throat, making her gag and then moan with pleasure. The vibrations made Matty buck his hips forward and hit her maximum again.

Este's hand did the work her mouth couldn’t reach, setting a comfortable pace and gripping the back of his thigh with her other one. His skin tasted salty and made her shift her hips in desperation.

Matty then gathered her messy hair into one section behind her head. “You said you’re gonna be good for Father, right? Will you show me how good you are?”

She let out a muffled moan to say yes, attempting to nod while her mouth was full of him and her head bobbed up and down. Wetness accumulated between her legs.

“Okay. Then take me like the good girl.”

He steadied her head, gripping it with both hands, and gently thrust his hips. Este opened her jaw wider and took a breath while she could, before Matty thrusted into her again.

He went easy on her to make sure everything was alright, even though her was fully aware that she loved having her face fucked. Este loved pleasing him, letting him take control, and tasting him down her throat. It could make her cum on the spot.

Not long afterwards, he tightened his grip on her hair and brought her mouth down even deeper onto his cock. “That’s it, baby.” He praised, jaw slack with euphoria as her throat constricted around him.

Tears gathered in the corner of Este’s eyes, her nose repeatedly grazing the hairy skin of his pelvis. His thrusts grew relentless. The filthy sounds of her mouth around him echoed through their entryway and mixed with their combined moans.

His head threw itself backwards and he groaned every time Este’s warm mouth swallowed him. “Shit, you were fucking made for me,” Matty said, after bringing his attention back down to the sight of her. Spit dripped down her chin. Her lips grew red at the way they were stretched around his cock.

“Just a bit more. You’re taking me so well,” moaned Matty, feeling his orgasm creeping up. They both knew he wouldn’t last long.

Este was a champ, squeezing her eyes shut as he fucked faster to chase his end. To finish him off, she hollowed her cheeks and stiffened her tongue beneath him, feeling the vein that ran down the underside of his cock, bobbing her head again to meet him halfway.

His hips rammed into her face a couple of more times, before he cried, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. E, I’m—”, and then came.

She sprung up, finally able to take a breath, letting Matty watch his cum spill onto her tongue. His tip sat above her open mouth and ropes of white pooled into it.

Este let it drip out and down onto her cleavage that was exposed through the cutout of her jumpsuit. Raising her hand and wrapping it back around his cock, she milked him of every last drop. The sudden prolonged pleasure made Matty’s hips buckle up, fucking her fist and spilling more of his seed onto her chest.

“Am I forgiven, Father?” she asked after swallowing fully, even dragging a finger through the cum on her tits and then sucking it clean.

Matty’s chest heaved up and down, and his head was so hazy from the mind numbing climax he was attempting to recover from that all he could do was nod. He caressed the top of her head with his shaky hand, then brought it down to drag his thumb over her lips.

It formed into a smile as Este looked up at him, his expression being shamelessly fucked out and giddy.

“I think I actually did just see God.”

[serafilms]

song 28! hits different (taylor swift) + nishimura riki requested by @taemaeto (2023 spotify wrapped event)

freedom felt like summer then, on the coast; now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings

Your arms wrap around yourself, tugging the edges of your jacket closer together. The biting chill of early winter eats away at your flesh, and while the sun is out, the wind is strongest on the coast.

Riki’s old zip up hoodie is all you have to fight it. It still smells like him, just a little bit. Or at least, it doesn’t quite smell like you. There’s just something lingering in the fabric that doesn’t feel quite right.

You kick your shoes off, pulling off your socks and tucking them into the shoes, which you leave at a spot on the pavement just next to the sand. A little bit further down, you see the spot where you and Riki always kept your stuff in a hoard. Your eyes linger, and so you tear them away.

The sand is cold under your feet. It’s almost as if the grains are trying to dig into your skin.

You’re not really sure when the last time you saw him was. The days have been blurring together since, but not one goes by that you don’t miss him.

“It’s been months now,” your friends say. “You need to move on.”

But you can’t. They don’t seem to understand why you can’t. You know why. It’s different this time, because it’s Nishimura Riki.

You never thought there’d be a time after him, and now everything feels wrong. Your feet ache from their place dug into the freezing sand. Shaking them off, you walk further down the beach towards where the waves are lapping the shore halfheartedly.

“Y/N!”

Your head whips around, but the air is empty and the beach deserted. A choked sob threatens to escape your throat, and you fall to the ground, arms wrapped around your knees.

“Y/N! The water’s so warm, seriously!”

You eyed him suspiciously. “You won’t push me in?” you called out.

Riki rolled his eyes from where he stood, waist deep in the ocean. The action was clear as day to you despite him being so far from your safe (dry) spot on the shore. “Swear, I won’t.”

Still wary, you wandered in deep enough for your calves to be submerged, gasping a little at the cool water. It wasn’t freezing, but certainly not warm.

Riki shot you a grin as he waded forwards to meet you, then grabbed your hand and tugged you forward, sending you face first into the sea.

You gasped as you came back up, quickly gathering your senses and glaring at him. “Hey!”

“Never said anything about not pulling you in.”

The sun shines onto your skin, but its warmth stops at the surface and refuses to ease the chill in your bones.

Tears are streaming down your face, and you do nothing to stop them. You think for a moment that it’s all part of the process. Maybe you need to wallow in this hurt. Maybe then you’ll finally be able to get over him. Let him move on with his life the way he deserves to.

“Love is a lie,” your friends would tell you. It doesn’t help, because you know it’s not true. You know what love is now.

You stand, take another look at the ocean, then turn your back on it. You tug the hoodie further around you with one hand and pick up your shoes with the other.

This pain may be a good thing, you try to convince yourself, because it means you found something real and got to feel something real. You found something different. You found Nishimura Riki, and you lost him, and your life will never be the same.

[mulderscully]

i feel like oversharing today.

it's an odd feeling to be moving out at 30. i'm doing what i "should" have done over ten years ago and i keep going over and over how i ended up here.

there is the basic element of the pandemic & the housing crisis but for me, i cannot help but feel like my family failed me and i don't feel like me saying that is pity seeking or asking for sympathy. it's just true and i deserve to say that.

when i was 16 my mom died, she had been terminally ill for THREE years. my aunt and uncle knew she was going to die, they knew they would take me in. they promised her to take care of me.

the summer after my mom's death was one of the worst years of my life, but the summer after my senior year was even worse because that is when the situation genuinely became abusive and i just couldn't see what it was.

until i graduated high school at 19 (yes, i was always a little old in school for some reason) i was allowed to keep my mom's social security benefits, so i would recieve about $200 a month for my needs. at the time $90 of that would go to a storage unit that held all of me and mom's stuff from our old apartment. it got to the point that i couldn't keep paying it so me and my family decided to empty it out.

it gets messy here because my aunt is a hoarder, and i did not understand the gravity of that til that day. she didnt want to donate anything. at all, we physically had no space for the stuff so we went against her, this ended up in her throwing herself at me in the car and kicking me onto the street, grabbing me so hard she ripped my bra and i had to wait for my uncle to come and get me.

i did not understand this was abuse.

that night she jumped at me and choked me until my uncle pulled her off me.

i did not understand this was abuse.

because we threw "her" stuff away that entire summer she was a constant ball of fury that i have never seen. i would sleep and wake up her banging on my door, screaming to let her in.

i would feel dread when i was walking home cause i knew she would be yelling and throwing things because i "betrayed" her.

i did not understand that this was abuse. i JUST let myself start calling it that.

somehow as time went on this stopped happening as often. a lot of other things happened, my aunt also assaulted my uncle and my cousin and was arrested multiple times. but i just... got used to it? because i did, and DO love my aunt and felt like... i owed her bc she took me in.

so when this calmed down, and would only happen every few months, i stayed because i was so depressed. i would sleep until 3 pm every day. i worked nights around that habit. my bedtime was 4 am. i didn't ever wanna be awake when everyone else was. i did not understand how fucked up i was. no one asked me if i needed help,

it wasn't until right before the pandemic when i was 25 that i was like... finally waking up. the pandemic was hard because i had to be in the house all the time and the hoarding got worse bc all of us are too defeated to help now. the house is swallowing me. i come home and feel like i want to go anywhere else. i have a constant stomach ache that i fear is cancer but logically is probably just stress.

i cannot live like this anymore and i will not anymore. i never thought i would actually say i'm moving out and mean it but it's happening. i had to crawl my way out of the grief of my mother's death for thirteen years because my aunt considered her own more important, because she abused me.

i don't know how to even explain my life to people without them looking horrified, but i'm excited for that to change.

[ohbo-ohno]

God i love your puppy play stuff 😘🫡

got this ask like as soon as i posted this the other day and i've been hoarding it until i want to write pupply play again lmfao thank you for your service anon

kay tweets from today for inspo:

cw: noncon puppy play, rough sex, smidge of piss kink, ghost is mean (again) but johnny isn't as into it this time

noncon puppy play with super horny soap. wants to be with ghost sooo bad, figures it's worth behaving like a puppy if it means ghost will fuck him :(

thinks it's just name-calling at first, doesn't fully mind it when ghost calls him a horny bitch, says good job puppy. it's a little weird, but the praise feels good and the degradation makes his cock twitch

but then it's things like refusing to let soap suck his dick - pulls him back by the hair and tells him just to use his tongue, slobber over it like a proper mutt and... maybe soap doesn't like that as much. does it, because he doesn't want ghost to take his dick away from soap, but is a little tiny bit more hesitant. gets cock drunk soon after, forgets about the hesitance soon enough

it sort of escalates every time they sleep together. ghost holds a hand over his mouth when they fuck in a utility closet, mumbles in his ear about buying a muzzle for his mutt before next time and soap genuinely can't tell if he's just saying it to get off or not

learns he's not when ghost shoves him into his room, has a hand over his mouth and a gag covering it before johnny can even realize what's happened. looks up at ghost with those big shocked eyes, not fully sure what's happened. shakes his head a little, reaches up to try and get it off before ghost bats his hands away. he's smirking a little, says "don't like your muzzle, puppy?" soap just whines and shakes his head more roughly, getting a little teary. "wanna stop? wanna go back out?" ghost asks, and... well, johnny wants to fuck. doesn't like the muzzle (though he hasn't softened in his pants at all) but still wants to get railed

ghost almost always fucks him doggy style. johnny likes it (likes that ghost lets him lay on his back sometimes too, lets him know that he does still have a say) but isn't sure how he feels when ghost asks him if he wants to be "mounted" instead of "fucked"

ghost asks him to bark at one point :/ johnny's nearly finished, is whimpering and whining, gets so close and ghost locks a hand over his cock, squeezes right at the base to cut off his orgasm. says bark, dog and johnny can only make a little confused whine, can't even speak. ghost gives his cock a little tap, a harder slap when johnny moans. c'mon, puppy. bark for me and i'll let you come yeah? good boys bark, you my good boy or not?

and... and johnny is so close. so he barks. and he keeps barking when ghost's thrusts get rougher, doesn't notice he hasn't stopped until ghost pulls out and laughs a little, says alright, quiet puppy. don't make me muzzle you, and then he whines a little and buries his face in ghost's throat. hides his face in ghost's heartbeat

makes the cage as a punishment so much worse if johnny is only going along with it for ghost. feels so much worse when he's in there all alone :( cries a little, whimpers and whines with hitched breaths and begs ghost to let him out :( gets told every word he says is another hour in the cage and nearly howls, feels soooo sad, doesn't understand why ghost is being so mean to him. ghost drops a little toy bone in the cage, says chew on that to keep yourself busy. i'll be back to feed you later and just disappears. leaves johnny whining all day :(

ghost comes back, still doesn't let him out. johnny begs a little more and gets a few more hours added onto his crate time. ghost says you need the muzzle to teach you dogs don't fuckin' talk? and johnny just whimpers and shakes his head, hunches his shoulders real low. ghost hums, says good boy and feeds little bite sized pieces of food through the bars of the cage, sticks his fingers into johnny's mouth so he can lick the taste off. lets him drink nearly a whole bottle of water. doesn't let him out of the cage before he goes to sleep :(

ghost wakes up to johnny whining in the middle of the night. smirks a little before he gets up because he can guess what he's complaining about without even glancing over. sure enough, when he flicks on the light he sees poor johnny all wiggly on his knees :( hand cupped over his dick, looking up at ghost with those big puppy eyes. "what, boy?" ghost asks, standing above the cage and making his face a little mean. johnny is good, he remembers not to speak, just paws at the crate bars a little and looks all pathetic. "hm? you need the bathroom?" johnny nods enthusiastically, already shifting towards the crate door. ghost can't resist the smirk, can't resist the rush of pleasure when he says "what did you think the puppy pads were for?" and watches johnny die a little inside. smokes a quick cigarette while he watches johnny cry and make a mess of himself

pulls him out by his hands the next morning but doesn't let him stand, coos over him and strokes a hand over his mohawk. says there you are, good boy johnny. made a mess, didn't you? need your owner to clean you up, huh? gonna be good and sit still for a bath? and watches when it doesn't even occur to johnny to stand up when ghost keeps his hand on the back of his neck

pouty wet dog johnny :( looks all sad and mopey when he sits on the floor of the shower and ghost uses the shower head to spray him down. lets ghost pat him down after, leans his whole body weight into ghost's hands and just begs for comfort. gets lots of pets and treats for taking his punishment so well <3 takes a little while to start talking again