backseosoftware

[gommyworm]

:^]

[themultifanshipper]

Do you think you could do something like this

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/759431110157631488/quiet-innocent-reader-x-lando-like-lando-finds

Maybe with Oscar ( love your writing)

If Oscar had to describe your sex life in one word : Vanilla.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that! God knows how much the two of you enjoyed the sex you had. You weren’t very experienced when you met Oscar, and you were quite a shy person.

Which is why Oscar was so shocked when he found what appeared to be a list of your kinks just sitting there when he got up to make his morning coffee.

Fun fact, this request was sent over a month ago, and i only have a couple more to do before i can get to my own stuff lmao

Warnings: innocent reader, Smut, PinV sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mention of lots of kinks n stuff

Part 2

He hadn’t meant to get a glimpse into the inner workings of your sexual psyche, but really, who leaves something like that on the kitchen counter???

As he read it over and over again, his cock twitched in interest and got progressively harder until he put it down, the words seared onto his brain forever.

He tried to have a cold shower but just ended up jerking off furiously to completion imagining doing all the things from your list.

But as soon as he got out of the shower and dried off, he realized he was still achingly hard. He decided to put on a pair of his loosest joggers and go about his day while he waited for you to come back from work.

It wasn’t easy, but he managed to answer a whole two emails, internally debating the moral implications of communicating with his bosses while sporting an erection.

Then he jerked off again.

It did take the edge off for a bit, but every time he thought about it during the day he couldn’t help but fist his cock at the thought of all your filthy fantasies.

When you got home, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and you did your usual routine: shower, skincare, dinner with a glass of wine, followed by watching something with Oscar, the two of you huddled up together on the couch.

That’s when you started noticing Oscar’s behaviour.

It was very subtle, but you could tell he wasn’t at all focused on the movie, periodically fidgeting around uncharacteristically. Oscar was usually very settled, and tonight it was like he couldn’t keep still for more than 30 seconds. You also noticed his breathing was irregular, often getting shallower as he fidgeted.

Oscar couldn’t care less about what was happening on the screen, his brain was focused on the same thing it had been all day, that damn list.

And he’d been hard all day, which certainly didn’t help his internal crisis.

“Oscar” you sighed, pausing the movie “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on with you tonight”

“Nothing’s wrong, why would there be something wrong?” his mouth said, but his flushed cheeks were proof that he was hiding something.

If looks could kill, the one you gave him would have certainly done the trick.

“I… full honesty?” he asked quietly.

You nodded “Full honesty”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Okay, but you can’t get mad at me”

You narrowed your eyes at him “That’s not a promise I can make, but I’ll do my best”

He bit his lip before taking your hands in his.

“I uh… I found your list”

You just stared at him. “What list?”

“This one…” he took the piece of paper out of his pocket where it had been burning a metaphorical hole in his hip ever since he’d found it.

He handed it to you, but you didn’t need to unfold it to know what it was. I was a bright pink piece of paper that had been ripped out of your diary the night before.

You completely froze, panic overtaking you.

“Oh my god. Oscar…” You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you tried to explain “you weren’t meant to find that I’m so sorry! I was going to throw it away this morning and I guess I put it down and completely forgot about it. Fuck- please don’t think I’m weird or whatever and just forget about it, okay? Please?”

You put your head in your hands and whined in distress. This couldn’t be happening. Your loving boyfriend had just learned about your depraved fantasies, and he was never going to see you the same way again.

“I can’t forget about it baby, I spent the entire day jerking off about it”

You head snapped up to finally look into his eyes, your jaw hanging in disbelief. You could tell he was dead serious and your gaze slowly trailed downwards towards his pants, where you could tell he was hard, then back up to his face to find him biting his lip so hard it was turning white.

“you-  what?”

“Sweetheart, I got so hard when I read it, I almost got in my car to come and get you from work. I want to do every thing on that list with you” he leaned closer to you and whispered “Every. Single. Thing.”

His arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, lips coming to brush against your neck. “especially number 3…”

You glanced at the list, seeing what he was referring to and gasped.

“Oscar!”

He chuckled into the crook of your neck.

“Who knew you were so dirty, hmm? Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“I- I didn’t know how to ask” you stuttered as he nipped at the skin of your shoulder.

“That right? Well ask me now, then” he said and you frowned in confusion.

“What?”

“Ask me. Go down the list, and ask me to do those things to you…”

His lips trailed down your body and his hands pushed you to lay down on the sofa as you spluttered in confusion. “I don’t- what?”

“What’s the first thing on the list?” he asked, he knew of course, but he needed to hear you say it.

You blushed, checking the list.

“Choking…”

“Then ask me to choke you”

You shuddered as his mouth continued downwards and his hands spread your legs, one of them pushing your flimsy pyjama shorts to the side to expose you to him.

“Oscar what-“

“I want to see how wet you get just from saying it, go on then.” He ordered and you keened as a finger dipped through your barely moist folds.

“I want you… to uhm” your blush deepened and Oscar smiled at you condescendingly.

“Go on baby, you can do it”

You gulped.

“I want you to choke me” you squeezed your eyes shut at the admission, but Oscar was having none of it.

“Now fucking look at me and ask me again”

You gasped and your eyes flew open to look at him.

“I want you to choke me!”

“Good girl” he stroked your thigh “Next thing?”

You glanced at the list still clutched tightly in you hands.

“Spanking.”

Oscar cocked his head to the side. “What about spanking?”

Your jaw clenched, the fucker knew how to get what he wanted.

“I want you to spank me”

He smiled and nodded for you to continue.

“I want you to fuck me over the balcony for everyone to see” you said, and Oscar’s pupils dilated as he used his fingers to spread you open for him.

“Yeah? Want everyone to see how fucking filthy you actually are?” You whined as his thumb came to dip inside you briefly before rubbing it in slow circles over your clit.

“I want you to degrade and praise me…”

He felt like he was barely holding on to his sanity at this point.

“That’s so hot, fuck.” He palmed himself through his sweats “You want to be my good girl yeah? Want to be my good little slut? Only thing you’re good for anyway…”

You whimpered, his words making your whole body heat up, and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I want you to fuck my mouth”

He had to grip himself through his pants to ground himself, your words having an enormous effect on his composure.

Where had his sweet little innocent girlfriend gone?

“I’ll fuck your mouth baby, make you fucking drool for it, god you’d look so pretty taking me down your throat”

You were definitely wet now, and he took the liberty of sliding a finger inside you and hooking it upwards just to watch you squirm as he rubbed that special spot inside you.

“I want you to tie me up and force me to take it” you said breathlessly.

The noise he let out at that was animalistic as his wide eyes found yours and his jaw went slack as he pulled his pants down just enough to get a hand around himself.

“You have no idea how hot you’d look all tied up and helpless under me baby, it’s making me so hard just thinking about it..”

You moaned as he added a second finger inside you.

“I want, fuck- I want you to use me, and fill me up with your cum whenever you want”

“Shit.” He hissed “Fuck baby, I’m going to fill you up so good, you'll see…”

“Please”

You hadn’t realised how close you were getting, but Oscar’s expert fingers were making you delirious as you continued.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, want to cry from how good you feel inside me, wanna beg for your cock”

Oscar growled and pulled his fingers out.

“Then beg”

He settled over you, putting his weight on you, his dick resting against your folds as he panted into your mouth.

“Beg for my cock, slut”

You were so fucking turned on. Dominant Oscar was something new, but so, so incredibly hot you would have done absolutely anything to have him inside you at that moment.

“Please, please Osc, I need it. I need your cock so bad, please!”

He growled and slid in to the hilt without warning, making you moan into the heated kiss he was currently giving you to distract you. He was thick and the stretch was delicious as his cock dragged along your walls, making you see stars.

He started a deep, hard pace and his hips slapped against yours, obscene sounds filling the room.

“Fuck baby, so fucking wet for me. This what you wanted all along? For me to fucking ruin you on my cock?”

“Yes, Oscar, fuck!”

He chuckled darkly.

“That’s a good girl, so fucking tight, You’re getting close aren’t you? I can sweet your sweet pussy clenching around me, trying to keep me inside...”

He gripped your hips harder and angled his thrusts upwards, nailing your g-spot, and you were a goner. White spots danced in your vision as the pleasure overcame you, cunt spasming around Oscar.

“Perfect, perfect cunt. And it’s all fucking mine” he growled as he finally spilled inside you, filling you to the brim and forcing a pathetic whimper out of you at the new feeling.

Oscar had never come inside you before, and it was insanely hot. The feeling of your slick, hot walls pulsing around him was pure heaven and he couldn’t wait to test everything on that list.

After you’d regained your breath, you chuckled silently to yourself while stroking Oscar's back.

If this is what you got for leaving your list out, maybe you should tell Oscar about your box of toys in the in the back of your closet…

[lessbienlesbian]

mizu x fem!reader nsfw a-z relationship headcanons

i’m sorry this took so long for me to write, but i hope y’all enjoy!

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

after both you and mizu have reached your peak, she is honestly quite clingy, although she would never admit this to anyone else. she would hold you protectively and press gentle kisses to your forehead and hairline, all while whispering about how well you did and asking if she can get you anything.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

mizu loves her hands. she loves what they look like, how they feel, and most importantly what she can do with them. she is proud of the calluses that cover them and she is proud of the skill and nimbleness with which she can use her sword and make you come undone. her favorite part of your body is your eyes, more specifically the fact that she can look into them and see so clearly that your intentions and love for her are genuine.

c = cum (anything to do with cum)

mizu loves to eat you out. she genuinely thinks that you taste so good, and will bury her face in your pussy until your juices are dripping down her chin as she looks up at you with that stupid adorable cocky smirk. sometimes she will even hold a glistening finger up to the light for you to see.

“look at this baby, is this all for me?”

“god, you smell so good. stay still sweetheart, let me taste you.”

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory)

honestly, mizu’s dirty secret is just how horny and absolutely whipped she is for you. she’s got it so bad and she would do absolutely anything for you. i know that’s not really dirty per say, but she’s pretty open about most other things.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

mizu is not very experienced at all. her only partner before you was mikio, and the sex she had with him was pleasing to her but not particularly outstanding. it also didn’t involve much action or movement on her part, so she would have a lot to learn when first being intimate with you. however, mizu is a very quick and eager learner. it is almost frustrating how naturally good she is at knowing how to touch you in just the right way.

f = favorite position 

mizu is a fan of any position where she gets to be as close to you as possible. she really values the closeness and physical intimacy that goes along with having sex. bonus points if she can easily hide her face because she gets hella shy. 

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

mizu can actually be pretty lighthearted in the moment. i wouldn’t go as far as calling her humorous, but the playful and teasing side to her personality is definitely present. she also enjoys a playful “fight” for dominance at times, she just can’t help it with her competitive nature. 

h = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

mizu has very dark brown pubic hair that matches the hair on her head. she has a full bush and doesn’t do anything along the lines of hair removal.

i = intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment)

oh dear god mizu is so romantic. she’ll hold your hand while you fuck her, make eye contact for as long as she can, and whisper sweet nothings and intimate confessions into your ear. like by day mizu is slicing people up on the hunt to kill her potential father, and by night she’s blushing and trying to hide her face while you gently kiss her cute little pink nose. like damn, get you a girl that can do both.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

it is my personal opinion that mizu does not masturbate outside of a brief period of self discovery as an adolescent and then maybe after getting together with you if the two of you are separated for a lengthy period for whatever reason.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

i am a firm believer that mizu is very into praise, both when it comes to you and her. she LOVES to be told that she’s doing a good job and that she’s pretty because let’s face it, this girl does not hear that kinda shit very often (or at all). god she’s just so cute, shyly hiding her face in your shoulder so you can’t see how much she is blushing, biting her lip to silence the small whimpers she’s letting out, tentatively reaching over to interlace her fingers with yours. and those shy little “shut ups” mumbled in your ear are just the icing on the cake.

l = location (favorite places to do the deed)

mizu doesn’t really have a preferred location. as long as the two of you are safe and not in the view of other people, she’s good to go. 

m = motivation (what turns them on)

she gets very turned on when/if the two of you spar together. the combination of competition, physical closeness, and playfulness just does it for her.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i’ll just list some off. blood, bondage (her receiving), intense degradation, exhibitionism, cnc, threesomes, intense humiliation, and breeding kink (i’ll explain this one at the end of this section). basically, she is pretty opposed to anything that makes her feel unsafe or like she doesn’t have control over what’s happening to her. that is not to say that she would be unwilling to submit if she really trusted you, she just greatly fears being taken advantage of. okay now to explain the breeding kink. i know this may be an unpopular opinion and while i do think our girl has MAD strap game, i do not think she would be into the idea of breeding. at her core, mizu feels resentment towards those who conceived her because of her hatred for and the stigma towards being mixed race. it is because of this that i believe that anything suggesting the idea of creating more people like her (even if it couldn’t actually happen) would be a major mood killer.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

mizu can be a bit sloppy when she eats you out, but she definitely prefers to give. her lack of experience combined with her tendency to just get fully pussy drunk leads to her eagerly lapping up your cum for as long as you’ll let her.

“mizu please” you groan with your hands tangled in her hair. “my clit, i need you on my clit”

p = pace

the pace at which you have sex with mizu really depends on how much time you have on your hands. she prefers to take her time with you, spending as long as possible worshipping every inch of your body. if mizu is feeling frustrated or stressed, her pace becomes more frantic and desperate as she seeks her and your release.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

if necessary, mizu will have a quickie with you, but she much prefers proper sex. realistically though, quickies are often all that there is time/proper security for, so she makes the best of the circumstances.

r = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

honestly, after everything that she has been through, mizu is not a risk taker when it comes to her sex life. she would be pretty vanilla when it comes to physical safety.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last?)

when mizu is on top she can go for a very long time. she takes pride in how good she can make you feel; teasing you, edging you, and making you cum over and over until you’re a quivering mess beneath her. however, she is a different story entirely. despite her incredible physical strength and stamina, mizu is so incredibly sensitive and it does not take very much stimulation or very long for her to cum.

t = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

mizu does not own any toys when you first meet her, as pleasure was not necessarily a priority. however, if you suggest it to her, she would DEFINITELY be open to using a harigata (dildo/strap on) and maybe even a tagaigata (double sided dildo). wearing a strap would boost her confidence an insane amount, and she’d take great pride in how well she can fuck you.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

mizu loves to tease you but is not a fan of being teased. she relishes in the way that you squirm beneath her and beg for more as that cocky little grin spreads over her smug face. but when it comes to her pleasure, as much as she is embarrassed to admit it, mizu is quite desperate and impatient.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

as evidenced by that one scene with mikio, mizu is actually pretty loud. her voice is high, feminine, and desperate. when she is trying her best to be quiet, she will express her pleasure through whimpers, gasps, and soft whispers. when volume is not a concern, the room will be flooded with loud moans and cries.

w = wild card (a random headcanon)

i think that mizu has incredibly sensitive nipples and if she let you touch them for long enough, she could cum from nipple stimulation alone. the first time this happens she is absolutely mortified, but you reassure her that it is perfectly alright.

“w-wait, y/n!” mizu whimpers, her back arching in desperation. her slender body writhes under your unrelenting touch, small gasps leaving her lips as you tug on her aching nipples.

x = x-ray

mizu is slender, toned, and lean. she is incredibly muscular and slim because of the intensity with which she trains and she is about 5’6 or 5’7. she has firm a-cup breasts with average sized pink nipples, but they are typically hidden under the fabric she uses to bind her chest. her pussy is an innie, and unless her legs are fully spread, you can only see her outer lips. when she opens herself up to you, her small clit is hidden beneath its dusky pink hood. her glistening hole is tight and small, and much to her chagrin, clenches and flutters desperately at even the slightest bit of stimulation. the poor girl is just so sensitive and needy.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

as much as she hates to admit it, mizu has a very high sex drive. she gets turned on super easily, especially when it comes to anything involving you. you could literally brush your fingertips against her hip and she would become a flustered mess.

z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

mizu can fall asleep pretty quickly, but she prefers to stay awake until you are asleep. if you catch onto this habit and decide to question her about it, she will deny it. watching over you to make sure that your sleep is restful and you are under her protection for as long as possible doesn’t exactly fit her image in the beginning. then, by the time you’ve gotten to see her softer side, she will deny it more for your sake. she doesn’t want you to know how much she worries about you for fear of teasing, being a smothering presence, and being admonished for sacrificing her own basic needs to make sure that yours are met. as much as mizu fronts as a combative, snarky, and abrasive person, she is also deathly afraid of conflict and abandonment with/from those she truly loves and cares about. that is to say, she wouldn’t want to get into an argument with you about how she needs to take care of herself better. she prefers to close her eyes and just listen to your breathing as it slowly evens out, leaving you unaware of her ploy. unbeknownst to her, you are aware of this “secret” scheme, and you let her get away with it. after all, it’s just another way that she tells you that she loves you, without expecting anything in return.

[silvermarley]

i know its a tad weird, but... do you think muzan would be ok with period sex? its technically free blood... and reader wont have cramps during it

You’re all good! I mean demon + free blood?? Sorry it’s super late 🙏🏻

Period Sex

Muzan x Reader

Warnings: blood obv, a bit rough?, cunnilingus, fem! body parts, minor degradation, established relationship, unprotected sex

WC: 2.1k

Demons have an unquenchable thirst for blood. They typically don’t care about their human victims, as they’re only a mere blood bank to them. The same is said about the infamous and overwhelmingly powerful king of all demons, Muzan Kibutsuji.

But, he has a unique situation that has taken hold of him for the past few days. You see, he’s not ignorant of the human body, but there’s something he didn’t know about. Mortal women bleed once a month, as their bodies ready themselves for eventual pregnancy.

Muzan’s situation is unique because of his lover. A human woman, one which he couldn’t kill. One that he found himself seeking out, and the person who makes his cold heart(s) beat. It was obvious that since he was a demon, he would seek out any blood he can get. You knew that. So when it was your time of the month, you would make up some excuse to be left alone for the duration of your period. That was your plan every month.

Eventually, the demon king saw the pattern in the times you would ask to be alone. It made his teeth clench just thinking about why that would be. You were a loyal partner, of course, but that fact didn’t come up in his mind when it would start to go over reasons as to why he had to go days, if not a week without you. Who would dare to impose on my relationship, he thought. You were his. He has the right to be with you everyday, so why? Why must you insist on taking.. vacations, as he called it, so often?

For the time away, you would suffer through your period. The cramps, bleeding, and aches.. all of it. Not only were you unsure of what Muzan would do if he knew about this, but you also didn’t want to bother him with your vulnerable and emotional side. In the end, he’s a man-eating demon. It had been long enough for you to understand that he wouldn’t dream of killing you, no matter how angry he felt. But just the thought of him knowing about your period was quite frightening.

Muzan isn’t a very patient man, unfortunately. He wanted to know why you kept leaving and distancing every time. Why you were keeping something from him.

You had your own room, and you didn’t really use it until the time came. You much preferred to spend your nights with him. But in this case, it wasn’t possible.

He knew where you went monthly, considering nothing in the infinity castle gets past him. And now, he was heading there in search for answers. As he got closer to the room, he caught the scent of blood. Your blood?

In a matter of seconds after his keen sense of smell caught that scent, he was sliding open the door to your room. You jumped upon seeing him, not know what to do now that he was here.

“Are you injured?” He asked after a pause. His eyes glowed at the smell, even in the dimly lit space.

His eyes scanned over your form, covered in a blanket and your face, showing many emotions. Confusion, fear, and above all pain. Not pain from any injury, like he was thinking. At your silence, he was about to seethe in anger at who would be brainless enough to lay a hand on you. Until you spoke up.

“No..” your voice was slightly shaky. You had no idea how he would react if you told him about your dilemma.

Heavy footsteps are heard as he walks over to you. “Then?” His arms cross skeptically. “What aren’t you telling me, Y/N?” Muzan’s voice was firm, yet you could tell this was his way of checking on you.

You sigh. This was inevitable. You couldn’t hide this for all eternity, anyways. “I’m not hurt.. I’m on my period.”

His eyebrows furrow curiously. Right.. he likely didn’t know that about you.

“Every month, I..” you calm yourself, only stopping your words to whince at the pain in your stomach. “..bleed. It’s something women go through.”

“Every month..? How come I smell your blood, but i have yet to see it?” He kneels by you to inspect your body. Most of which was still covered.

He wasn’t reacting badly so far, which came as a surprise. Turns out his restraint is much better than you thought. Now, it was just embarrassing to explain it.

“Because I bleed from down there..” you began to mumble, face heating up slightly at how you couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual thing you’re referring to.

His ruby colored eyes glowed once more, this time for a different reason. Before you could protest, he lifted the blanket from your body to see your bloodied lower region. He couldn’t stop the groan leaving his chest as the scent got more prominent. You noticed his grip on the blanket tightened.

“And you thought to hide this from me?” His gaze then returns to your face.

You nod hesitantly. “It’s just.. I didn’t know how you would react. And I didn’t want you to deal with it..”

“Deal with the blood?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Do you know who I am? What I am?” You felt a cold finger trail from your jaw to your collarbone.

“I-I know.. but the blood isn’t all of it. It also causes stomach cramps and mood swings.” You stutter, yet you felt little to no fear right now due to the look in his eyes. It wasn’t of murderous intent.

His hand trails down further to your stomach and he rests it there. “..Is it hurting now?” He questions, and when you nod again, he inquires more about it. He inhales. “It’s hard to resist the scent of your blood. Especially after hearing where it’s coming from..”

Warmth spread across your cheeks at the comment. You didn’t know where he was going with this.

“I think I know how to assist you with the pain.” This would be a sweet thing to hear, if it weren’t for the sinister smirk on his face.

He begins pushing the blanket completely off your body. After it was successfully moved to the side, he took in the view. He was getting hungrier by the minute. Drool fell from his lips a little at the sight. He needed to taste it. And he wasn’t one to play with his meals.

Muzan pulls down your shorts, tossing it aside to see the mess that is your panties. He groaned again, unable to stop himself from licking a stripe on your clothed core, tasting your sweet blood through the fabric. You gasped, feeling much more sensitive than normal, but also hot due to his boldness.

He rips your sad excuse for underwear and dove right into what he’s been craving ever since he smelled your sweet blood. He’s no stranger to pleasuring you with only his tongue. But god, this felt so good. So different. Like he was trying to devour you whole. Like he’s parched and the only thing that can quench it is the mess between your thighs.

The demon’s tongue moved languidly at first, to savor the taste of both your arousal and the tempting red liquid. But the muscle moved quicker with time, desperately needing to taste all of you. You writhed and grabbed onto the only thing keeping your mind in reality, his wild and now unkempt black locks.

Your needy tugs to his hair only made his movements more determined. The heat in your lower stomach was rising at a rapid pace not even you could keep up with. The area that was previously aching with pain was now flooding with pleasure. Muzan’s nails dug into your upper thighs as he feasted on everything you were giving him. The pain shouldn’t have felt so good, but with the drag of his demonic tongue, god it did.

Your orgasm hit you like a flash, as your arched into his head and stuttered his name loudly. The growl he let out was low and heavy. He licked up your mixed juices while you twitched and shook.

He then lifted himself from you. His pupils were blown wide and his lower face was messy. “Divine, just as I thought.” He murmurs, “Your essence is sweet, and mixed with your blood..” he takes in a breath, and trails off.

You caught your breath, which was knocked out of you for a moment. Before you had time to respond, he’s making his next move. You glanced down as he sat up, noticing his prominent erection in his dress pants. It made you wonder how it would feel inside you now that you were on your cycle. You were sensitive already, but this time it was enhanced surely.

His sharp teeth nearly shined as he grinned darkly at you. “Your blood is irresistible.. and I can’t wait to see such delectable essence on my cock.”

His grin widens a bit more at seeing the you bite your lip with replenished need. You two have been intimate many times before, but this felt like so much more. With this, he could have claim every part of you, in your weakest state. In your most vulnerable time. And that thought alone has been driving him wild since he tasted you.

You barely even noticed when he took off his pants and vest, leaving his formal shirt slightly unbuttoned as he was too desperate to be inside you. Having said that, you also failed to notice when he was now hovering over you and positioning himself at your entrance. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he carefully plunged in. There was a mutual groan shared as he pushes in, inch by inch.

The mix of slick and blood made it easier to stuff you full of his cock. When he bottomed out, he couldn’t resist biting your shoulder. You whined from both pain and pleasure, as he laps up more of your sweetness. The taste of it on his tongue caused him to begin thrusting. “Always such a good little human, hm?” He rasps.

You let out a strangled moan at the sheer power of his thrusts in an attempt at a response. Your mind couldn’t even think about the pain in your abdomen with how good he was making you feel. His head pulls back to watch your lewd expressions. It was always his favorite. Just seeing how much of a mess he can make of you gets him going.

Even as such an individual as mighty as Muzan, he still falls into the irresistible pleasure he gets from you. The feelings he once was unfamiliar with, came easily when he met you.

His nails dig into your hips this time as with each thrust he pulls you to him, only increasing how deep he hit. Your whines echoed off the walls of your room, mixing with the slaps of skin. A faint but audible set of groans and grunts can also be heard from the man above you. Only you could drag these uncontrollable noises from the king himself.

The demon threw his head back, gripping under your thighs to bring them to your chest. That served to make him go even deeper than you thought possible. Your body was trembling under him, and the feeling of getting close came creeping up on you. The tightening of your pussy made his noises turn into something more animalistic. “Make a beautiful mess on my cock. I know you want to.” He coos breathily, his alluring eyes staring at your face.

And you were more than happy to follow as he said. Body twitching and ecstasy taking over, you came hard. Your mind was effectively taken over by the intensity of it all. A deep growl came out of his mouth as you convulsed and nearly milked him for all he’s worth. He felt close, and quicker than normal. The circumstances played a big part in speeding up his gratification in indulging in you.

You could barely keep your eyes open as he relentlessly thrusted, overstimulation making you shake pathetically. He reveled in your form and the sensation. After a few more harsh thrusts, he gives a final one that fills you with his cum. “That’s it,” he moans huskily, “Take it all..”

When he spilled all he could into you, he pulled out and let his dick lay on your stomach. He looked down at the fluids connecting it to your messy cunt. A sight he could get used to.

Though, he’s no weak man by any means. It wasn’t long before his stamina allowed him to become hard again. A desire-filled smirk was plastered on his face. “You should know that I am far from done.”

As his lover, you definitely knew that. But as a human, you weren’t sure how far he would take it this time. The king wasn’t going to give you time to think about that, however.

——

[freakybongg]

I JUST SAW UR TF2 REQUESTS ARE NEWLEY OPEN IM BITING THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

I am......SO desperate......for anything with a male reader with all the mercs......ESPECIALLY MEDIC AND SOLDIER (theyre my baby girls 😼‼️)

But if you want something extra specific, I would love some headcanons on how they feel about a trans guy reader!

Thankyew so much🤌🤌

YEAHHH i barely see any x male reader so yiypiyppee im so happy to do this request, i am SUPER bad at writing pyro btw im doing this in parts bc its long! so this will be scout soldier pyro and demoman.

PART 1

SCOUT

-He feel like he doesnt mind, like "okay? why are you telling me?" typa feel. If you guys are close he'll take it into consideration. He'd make sure that no one bullies you for it, and prob knocks their skull out to be honest.

-He never seems to make you feel uneasy about being trans. He never left you out of "The Boys" day. always called you dude or bro. It made you feel warm inside.

-If you guys are dating, im sure he wouldnt care if you were trans, assuming you tell him before you start dating. If you having any gender dysphoria he'll be sure to comfort you. Saying things along the lines of " Dude, youre the most handsome man ive ever met" or makes jokes to keep your mind off of it.

-If you have your period, im pretty sure scout gets the gist of it since he lived with his mom for quite awhile, he prob brings u to medic for help.

SOLDIER

-Firstly soldier was confused, but after sometime he didnt mind/forgot you were even trans.

-When you get gender dysphoria he thinks youre sick, like if you come out to breakfest he'll yell "CEDET, BACK INTO SLEEPING QUARTERS NOW. YOU ARE SICK.'' you're as confused as the medic who js gave you a check up. After you figure out what hes talking about and tell him he'll be like, "oh." and js walk away like nothing happened.

-He might use cupcake on you less, to not trigger you.

-He for sure has the "to be a real man u must work for it" mindset and WILL push you to your limit, on battlefields, training, and maybe even the bedroom lol.

-If anyone bullies you he WILL punish them bro "YOU SAY THAT THO, THEY ARE MANLIER THAN YOU, MAGGOT. 20 LAPS." will literally punch anyone who makes you feel bad abt your gender

-He LOVES when you do anything manly, like he will praise you if you just beat scout in a arm wrestle, defend your self, or kill an enemy.

PYRO

-Pyro understands when you tell them, immediately hugs you

-When youre having dysphoria, they'll cuddle you, in their little plushie fort, snacks stolen from the pantry, movie and everything!!!

-If someone makes fun of you Pyro will launch their self onto them and land a few punches, and go back into your arms like it was nothing. how sweet pyro !!!

DEMOMAN

-Demoman is super cool with it, he doesnt mind at all

-Im sure he's met at LEAST one transgender, plus he thinks its cool you trust him enough to tell him something personal

-If youre dating him, he holds you while hes drunkingly calling you all types of sweet names, like "my boy" or "handsome". Also he calls you lad way more often then anymore merc?? like he puts it after every sentence damn near.

[shawnxstyles]

blood alert!

DATE: DECEMBER 29, 2022

summary: peter notices you’re unwell at school and instinctively wants to help. as he does, the schoolwide douchebag decides to make a scene after school.

requested: very :)

song: Yours- conan gray (i was listening to this)

words: 4.3k

warnings: mentions of blood (not too gory), mentions of periods, mentions of anxiety, sexual innuendo/insults, minimal language, and a protective peter :o

note: part four?!?! i think this is my favorite yet?? and it’s the longest! peter parker masterlist

—

“please please i didn’t mean to!” the unknown man’s pleads were muffled by the blood gushing from his mouth. peter tsked behind his mask, wondering when they’ll ever learn to never touch a woman when they don’t want to be touched.

nothing gets him more mad than things that aren’t consensual.

“sure didn’t seem that way. i mean, you didn’t even apologize,” peter says condensingly, eyeing his webbing work. the man’s hands and legs were attached to the wall while multiple layers covered his torso. over time, his placing and aiming of the webs got easier. they do say practice makes perfect.

the man groans in pain and irritation.

like he has the right to be making any noise right now.

“i think you deserve an apology. don’t you think, miss?” peter tilts his head in the direction of the distraught woman, who seems to be in her mid-thirties (at the latest). after peter had comforted her, she calmed down once she realized who he was and that he could handle the situation. she contemplates his question, crossing her arms.

“yes i do,” she replies, glaring at the fickle man. he growls under his breath, spitting out the crimson blood drowning him. annoyed, peter shoots another web at his torso, not hurting him, but shocking him and pushing him snuggly into the brick wall of the alleyway. the man screams, frightened, and finally agrees to apologize.

“okay, okay! i’m sorry, i won’t touch you or anyone else ever again. just don’t kill me!” he begs again. it’s funny how he can change from growling and groaning to begging and pleading because he thinks he’s going to die. peter has more power than he knows sometimes.

“relax. i don’t kill,” peter waves him off and turns to the woman once again with sincerity. “will you be okay to walk home?”

“i’m feeling quite better now. i think i’ll catch a cab this time. thank you, spiderman,” her face softens and a gentle smile rests on her lips. her heels click away to the open sidewalk, waving for cabs until one halts for her. peter looks at the man positioned like a star on the wall.

“now what will i do with you?”

—

after bringing the attacker to the station, peter swings on home. he assumes it’s past ten, given the dark, starry sky. when he reaches his window, he lifts the creaky wood up and slips inside. he knows his aunt, may, is going to be upset because he came home late again, but she knows he has responsibilities to upkeep.

“peter!” may shouts from the kitchen while he rips off his mask. she opens his bedroom door and softens at his rough appearance.

“sorry for coming home late again.” peter mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“it’s alright, i want you to be safe. you didn’t kill anybody, did you?. you know—”

“i know, may. i know.” peter sighs because she gives the same lecture every time he comes home. she wants him to be safe, not to kill, don’t hurt anyone unless needed, etcetera etcetera.

“okay. well then go shower. you have blood all over your suit…”

—

peter was glad to go to school the following morning. he was going to see you during third period and you two were going to talk like you did yesterday. his heart fluttered happily in his chest just thinking about it.

however, when peter saw you during second period passing, you looked unwell. maybe you were sick with a cold or the flu? you trudged around the hallways and you didn’t socialize with anyone.

of course, you wouldn’t want to get anyone else ill.

peter assumes to himself as you lay your head tiringly on your locker from a far distance across the hall. a pang of hurt hits his heart knowing that you’re feeling so ill.

he wishes he could take care of you. he wishes he could give you soup and turn on your favorite movie. if he was with you, he knows he wouldn’t care about getting sick and would lay in the bed and watch the movie with you. he wishes he could comfort you. he wishes he could be the one to make you smile when you’re having a bad day.

peter wishes you’d want him too.

he frowns to himself, ripping his stare away from you. he knows that’s a hard concept to even conspire, but it still makes him dejected that you’ll never feel the way he feels for you. the ache in his chest grows, but for a slightly different reason now.

“this cold weather is really preparing me for the cabin. speaking of…” ned rocks back and forth on his toes, while peter turns to him with sorrow still in his eyes. ned doesn’t notice. “you really don’t want to go with us?”

“i’m sure. it’s a couple’s thing. i obviously don’t have a date and i would never want to impose,” peter replies shutting his locker slowly. ned squints his eyes at him.

“you good, peter?” ned questions more seriously than before.

okay, he did notice.

“yeah, yeah. just tired is all,” peter fake yawns with a soft smile to ensure that he is fine. he didn’t know that his sudden sadness would be that burdening so fast. it wasn’t even that big of a deal. it was just something that he had to accept, whether he wanted to or not.

it’s insane how emotions can be so intense and rapid when they’re connected to something important.

—

you were late to english. again.

you really tried not to be late to your classes, but it wasn’t always your fault. sometimes, you were having sex in the bathroom (which you hated yourself for) or mother nature decided to come early. you never had sex on your period, either.

so, today was the latter.

you skipped first period because you were curled up under your warm blanket and your body refused to get up. you were extremely tired as well, which didn’t help. but you knew how hard it was to get back on track with school work, even if it’s only a one-day absence. you trudged out of the comfort of your bed and into the cold fog outside.

when the final bell rang for third period, you didn’t attempt to run. not that you ever really ran, but sometimes you did a fast walk. with every five steps a cramp clawed your uterus, and you reconsidered going to class today. but you knew this project was worth a good chunk of your grade, and you didn’t want your partner to do all the work.

you plod into the mostly obedient classroom, all eyes staring at the teacher while she speaks. she doesn’t acknowledge you and continues to instruct. you don’t mind, and slot through the columns of desks.

“damn what happened to you? out too late last night?” jax obnoxiously chuckles behind his hand as he daps up his nearby friends. unlike the movies, he isn’t well liked by the whole school, only by his lame sidekick friends. the only thing that’s comical is how he’s wearing a letterman for the world’s most boring sport (golf) and he suddenly thinks he’s the most admired man on campus. if there was a sport for douchebags, he’d make varsity and be the star player.

jax has been like this since freshman year. he acts immature, rude, and arrogant to most people, but especially to you. he always goes out of his way to insult or make fun of you for entertainment. although you know the underlining reason for his harsh treatment, it doesn’t bother you any less. it’s hard to desensitize from negativity when you’re surrounded by it like oxygen.

you cringe at his comment and the unfolded scene. you barely have enough energy to get through today, let alone waste it on a dumbass jock who thinks he’s the ‘top dawg’ or whatever he says. another cramp kicks you, which makes you practically limp to your seat in the back.

“look she’s limping,” he points out to his friends with shoulder nudges. “he must have given it to her hard.”

more laughs are muffled behind their jacket sleeves, while you focus on breathing and reaching your desk. the class is too distracted with the teacher’s announcements to notice or care about the little interaction.

peter wasn’t listening to a word the teacher was saying.

his senses picked up on the chattering near the back of the room. he’s learned when to engage his power on his own, but his senses are automatically heightened when someone is involved in harmful situations. he has never eavesdropped on your conversations ever before, but conversations don’t sound like that.

peter heard the ‘jokes’ jax made about you, right to your face. it made him upset knowing that someone would talk like that. but it made him fucking furious that anyone would talk like that to you. you didn’t deserve that. peter didn’t know you as well as he wishes to, but he knows that jax is a jerk inside and out. an immature asshole to better say. no matter how high of a pedestal jax puts himself on, he’ll never hold a candle to you.

peter clenches his jaw so hard, he thought he might shatter his own teeth. it took everything in him to breathe instead of strangle jax with his webs in front of the whole class.

it’s like everything may ever told him was thrown out the window.

when the teacher finally dismisses everyone to continue their partner projects, peter doesn’t hesitate to snatch his backpack and head toward you. his heart pounds angrily in his chest, furious, yet still underlined with nerves because he’s approaching you like it’s normal.

he takes the seat beside you. you’re slouched with your hands resting on the desk while you fiddle with your fingers. peter softens his gaze, heart still beating rapidly.

what does he say?

“hey,” he gently starts, patiently waiting for you to say something. you blink a few times before turning your head toward peter.

“hey, parker,” you tiredly smile at him, trying to sit up straighter. your head subtly pounds from the nonsense you experienced with jax because that kind of stuff is so regular for you. if you look like shit one day, everyone assumes you had a previous late-night hookup. if you look gorgeous on another, they think you’re a slut who just wants attention.

can’t a girl just dress for herself?

at first, it angered you that people cared so deeply yet so little about you. now, it was so constant and repetitive that you didn’t dwell on everyone else’s small talk about you. but you can’t help but wish it would stop. it had a mental toll on you.

but deep down, you were only mad at yourself for giving in to the pressure of people around you.

peter gazes delicately at you, his teddy bear eyes easing some of the mental and physical pain away.

you wish all guys were as good-natured and self-aware as he seemed.

“are you okay?” peter breathily questions. he sees the heaviness under your eyes and your eyelids seem desperate to close. overall exhaustion is laced in your expression. he assumes you don’t want him to stare at you, so he tries his best to avert his eyes. but even when you’re sick, he still thinks you’re gorgeous. you always radiate such glowing warmth, so when you’re a little colder, there must be something wrong.

“uh,” you grumble, hesitant. you consider admitting to peter that you’re on your period and not just tired or sick. again, you didn’t dwell on other people’s thoughts, or their judgment. if anything, he’d probably disregard it anyway because that’s what guys always do. without stopping yourself, you admit. “i'm on my period.”

peter slightly widens his eyes, not expecting you to say that. he knew you were forthright, but he didn’t think you’d share personal information with him. his heart races quicker before he realizes his reaction probably isn’t helping.

“oh um… is there is anything… i can do to help?” peter stutters and he mentally curses at himself for acting like an immature fool. to be clear, he wasn’t flustered over the menstrual cycle part, they’re completely natural and uncontrollable, but by the fact that you told him so bluntly (even though he asked) is what shocked him.

you genuinely smile at his endearment, causing spots of warmth to spread over your chilly skin. your shoulders relax, releasing tension you didn’t know you had been storing in your muscles.

“unless you have chocolate, nothing is going to mend the stabbing pain in my uterus,” you dryly joke, moving some hair from your face. a gray hood lays on your head, protecting you from the uncomfortably cold air.

peter curses to himself, again, for not having chocolate in his bag.

sometimes, he wishes he could read minds instead of having the behavioral abilities of a spider. he has to remind himself that some people don’t have powers at all and he should be grateful and blah blah blah.

“i’m sorry, i don’t,” peter frowns again like earlier. “do you have a favorite?” he asks suddenly.

“a favorite chocolate?” you face him with curiosity, trying to forget the jamming headache. your cramps have halted more now than they have all morning. probably because you’re sitting comfortably for once.

“yeah or a favorite food you crave,” peter knows about the food cravings because of may.

when may’s favorite snack (pickles) were gone and she was too unwell to retrieve them, she would send peter to go to the store down the street. he hates seeing may in pain, but it only lasted for a couple of days before she was okay again. he doesn’t remember exactly when he stopped having to go, but he didn’t worry as long as she wasn’t hurting.

he would definitely bring you something if you asked.

“i mean, i really like chocolate pretzels? i don’t know why. probably because i always ate them a lot growing up,” you share openly. you spit out the first thing that came to your mind without hesitation. you were being oddly open. no one really cared to ask personally questions to you before, so you didn’t really know how to respond.

“noted,” he remembers how ned loves them too, so he’ll have to ask him where he gets them. peter curls one side of his lips into a tiny smile, while you smile back with skepticism all over your face. he feels his chest restricting and wonders if he’ll die. and least he would die a happy man. “we should probably get to our project.”

“yeah, yeah. we should,” you shake your head to look away from his soft features. he turns down and searches in his backpack for the papers. your eyes don’t drag away from him like you’d hope they would.

he wore jeans today. they appeared a little loose, but fitting enough so he’s not sagging. you could never imagine him in jeans; he always seemed like a khaki guy. a classic flannel shirt peaks beneath a navy sweater, and you wonder where he gets his style from. his hair is neatly combed, and it overall made him look put-together. you couldn't imagine yourself appearing that way, even if you wore pretty little clothes and did your makeup.

peter tilts his head back up and places the papers on the desk. he scoots the table closer to you with ease, and you two continue to work on the presentation fundamentals.

time flies when the bell suddenly rings. peter tucks everything back into his bag in a specific folder. his body freezes when his scalp feels your soft fingertips ruffle his hair. a blush arises on his face as he stares at the floor. when he finally looks back up, you’re gone.

you left the class with a small smile, feeling a little less worse than you had.

—

during lunch, peter instantly asked about the pretzels.

“oh, these ones?” ned plops them out of his backpack and peter gasps dramatically.

“you have some? can i have them?” peter pleads, without context. he’s never asked for them before when ned had brought them.

“since when do you like chocolate pretzels?” ned quirks a suspicious eyebrow at peter. he doesn’t like hiding anything from ned, so he gives in and tells him with a sigh. he doesn’t tell him everything, only that you’re the one that likes the pretzels, not him. ned doesn’t need to know that you’re on your period and the ‘conversation’ that happened with jax.

“does she need all of them? i just bought these yesterday,” ned complains, while betty sits next to him across the cafeteria table and kisses his cheek. peter envied their love, even if it was questionably odd sometimes.

since peter sits so close to you in english, he envisions kissing your cheek while you answer a question on the sheet. you’d try to hide your heavenly smile, but then you’d give in and giggle next to him.

he daydreams about you so much, some might think it’s exhausting, but they’re really what keep him going.

ned explains to betty how peter needs his pretzels for you and peter interrupts him with an embarrassed “ned!” because he said that “peter is practically in love with you.” which isn’t… he can’t. betty then convinces him to hand over the bag.

“fine, but you owe me,” ned groans and rolls his eyes while betty giggles and kisses his cheek again.

—

peter couldn’t find you at lunch.

however, he did spot you at the end of the hallway where he unexpectedly ‘caught’ you yesterday.

your hood was covering your head, but the way your backpack dangled loosely from your shoulders alerted him that it was you. your bag had a single stitch on it that he’d never noticed before as he gazed at you in the hallway.

the place was nearly empty like before since the day had ended. you pushed open the door and hissed at the icy breeze, instinctively crossing your arms for more warmth.

peter follows you through the doors and catches up with you. your eyebrows raise in shock and you halt your movements, but you relax when you notice it’s just peter. you remove your earbuds and pause your music.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to startle you,” he instantly apologizes, cheeks flushed. it was probably from the sudden chilly weather, but it looked adorable on his cheeks. his lips were more prominent, rosy and pink against his fair skin.

“you don’t have to apologize. it’s fine,” you tighten your arms over each other, teeth nearly chattering. you weren’t a fan of the fall or winter because you got cold very easily. you were definitely more of a summer gal.

“i, um,” peter lost his words. you would probably think that he’s a freak for actually getting you the pretzels. you’ll probably think he’s crazily obsessed with you (he kind of is, but not like that). his hands are shaking, and it’s not only from the weather. “i got these for you.”

you peer down with skepticism, a small bag of chocolate-covered pretzels in his hands. you look back up at him with awe in your eyes. your heart clutches tightly in your chest from the kindness. you’re not someone who cries a lot, or at least in front of people, but no one has ever done such a thoughtful action for you. it was such a small thing, but it affected you more than you could have imagined. you blame your hormones for the brimming tears in your eyes.

“oh no. are these the wrong ones? i’m sorry—”

“no, peter, these are perfect. thank you. i…” you were speechless. he's so sweet. too sweet. he probably did this for everyone who needs it. you wish you had someone as endearing as him in your life consistently. you need it. peter’s wide smile is soon washed away.

“y/n? well, i didn't think you’d go for as low as a nerd,” the familiar snobby voice of jax makes both of your heads turn. he wears a smirk on his face, arms crossed as he approaches you two more closely. his ‘sidekick’ friend follows behind him submissively. jax looks down at the pretzels in peter’s hand and laughs. “the nerd got her chocolates. what is this, valentine’s day? please, how pathetic.”

when people talked or spread rumors about you, you tried not to care. you never engaged because it would never stop. you just learned to live with it because it’s been years. you’ve heard jax talk shit about loads of people over that time. however, hearing jax disrespect peter right in front of you made your blood boil so much, you didn’t feel as cold anymore.

“leave him alone, jax. he’s done nothing to you,” you glare at him with daggers in your eyes and a strong jaw. you were much shorter than him, but your distaste for his attitude was bigger. “i know you don’t like me, but don’t take it out on him.”

“sweetheart, i can do whatever i want,” jax clicks his tongue condescendingly while inching closer to peter.

those words flashed a different image through your mind, but you forced yourself to stand tall. you don’t need reminding of the past.

he rips the pretzels out of peter’s hands and chucks them on the ground. peter barely moves, staring at jax’s soul with small backward steps.

please, don’t hurt him. you plead to some higher power.

“she doesn’t like you. she wants you to think that. she’ll make you think that she wants to sleep with you, so you look like a fucking fool,” jax snarls in peter’s face with clenched teeth and an flared nose.

“shut up,” peter grumbles with clamped fists so compact his knuckles start whitening from the pressure. protectiveness spread throughout his whole body like a disease.

“what did you say? speak up,” jax provokes, glaring down at peter with a snarl on his face. you have a feeling this will get ugly and you really don’t want peter to get hurt.

“shut. up.” peter huffs out each word, and jax finally swings. peter ducks quickly, so jax punches again with his opposite hand. peter dodges it swiftly, sliding away from his predictable hits.

jax growls in impatience and swings more wild and aggressively. peter blocks his ‘hardest’ punch with his forearm. he latches onto his wrist and twists him around, pushing him backwards.

“i don’t want to fight you, jax,” peter states honestly, with his hands up. he’s annoyed with his perseverance in this fight that he’s not going to win.

he practically jumps towards peter with anger brewing in his eyes. with his arms wide, he tries to cage peter against the nearby tree, but fails horribly. peter simply ducks and sweeps his leg, causing him to tumble onto his back. if he didn’t, jax would have collided face first into the wood. jax stumbles back onto his feet while his friend watches with a gaped mouth. peter knew he couldn’t fight jax, especially not at school. he definitely wasn’t scared to, but it’s not morally right to himself, may, or you.

but god, did he want to beat the living shit out of him.

what is wrong with peter’s thoughts?

“beginner’s luck. i’ll be back,” jax spits on the ground, trying to make a statement before stomping toward the gym with his not-so-much sidekick.

you stand frozen, your body in shock from peter’s incredible defensive skills. he walks over to you with worry cascading his face.

“are you okay? i’m sorry, i didn’t want to fight him—”

“peter, stop apologizing. i’m fine and that was… pretty cool,” you cut him off with your hands on his chest. his heart was racing and his cheeks were flushed, but he did just finish a fight.

and he totally won too.

peter thought he might dissolve. even in the cold weather, he might melt right into a puddle on the cement from your palms resting on his chest. he knows you feel the pounding organ behind his rib cage, which makes him blush even more. if he stands still any longer, he’ll be permanently frozen in overwhelming affection. to avert himself, he bends down to retrieve the forgotten pretzels and hands them your way.

“do you still want them?” peter cringes at the wrinkled bag in his palms.

“of course, i do,” you snatch them from his hands and tuck them possessively into your arm. “i mean, you fought for these! they must be really good.” peter chuckles, muscles relaxing at your optimism.

there was your warmth again.

“so do you walk home or take the bus? or can you drive?” you ask with some energy. the fighting woke you up and opened your eyes. literally. jax’s always been a douche, but fighting through an innocent person about something that happened years ago? that’s pathetic.

“i can drive, but i don’t have a car. i usually take the bus, but it’s long gone by now,” peter scratches his neck and shuffles awkwardly. sometimes he feels comfortable with you, but most times he gets so nervous he forgets sentences. or words. or thoughts in general. even though his anxiety was heightened, he really wanted to walk you home. he would float to cloud nine. “what about you? do you drive?”

“i’m in the same boat as you. or car…?”

“do… you want me to walk you?” he felt his fingertips trembling and stomach clench. every second you didn’t say something, he prepared for disappointment.

“i would like that,” you smile. you smile. with teeth and everything. your cheeks looked soft and your expression was genuine. peter felt his heart flutter and fly away, while his stomach was littered with butterflies.

you both begin walking along the sidewalk, the school fading in the distance behind you. walking made talking less anxiety inducing, and more comforting for him.

“so where did you learn to fight like that?”

—

HOW DO WE FEEL ABOUT PART FOUR??!?

tags: @percyjacksonspeen @rafecameronsbadussy @slut4tomholland

[isaaujulii]

WHY GOD WHY COULDN’T THEY TREAT ALL THEIR CHARACTERS WITH RESPECT. The source material is endlessly fascinating and riddled with interesting storylines that can be followed and or improved upon(within reason) . Like you have the knight without honor whose only true light is a queen who he can never have. A woman whose life is tied to the men around her, which is her circumstance but she does nothing to try to help or ruin them but laments her part in everything. And i’m not saying the story can’t be built upon the relationship between rhaenyra and alicent.

It’s a great place to start. START. It can’t be just about them. Why don’t we see Jaeharys and the pressure he feels as a bastard and a possible future king. What about halaenas mental state her visions, and the fact she lost a whole child. And how come all of a sudden Aemond is kinslaying psychopath whose only goal is to become king, is there no internal conflict. Where’s that remorse and horror we saw at the end of season 1. Aegon is being made fun of every second and being ignored (and before u come at me i know he is a pos rapist, not defending him) nobody sees him as a threat even though he is QUITE LITERALLY THE KING.

Alicent is on her sad girl bs. And I LIKE ALICENT. Do you know how hard it is to make me dislike a character I originally loved. I thought her character was heading into an interesting direction feeling guilt and remorse about her actions because it is against everything she believes in. Because AGAIN they have hammered into the viewers that she is a religious. But she just becomes whishy washy. And not an active participant.

And don’t get me started on our titular protagonist a one Rhaneyra Targaryen. Have I mentioned my dislike at the obvious bias towards team black. Also why are there teams why is everything black and white. I don’t know about yall but I thought the whole point was there is no good and evil and that killing your family for a crown is wrong and morally unjust so therefore anyone participating in the war (as in anyone who has a choice, not the small folk forced to fight and stuff) is already not the greatest person. So i don’t know why they are acting like Rhaneyra is the goddamn messiah. They’re trying to make her a Daenerys variant. She’s not Dany and she shouldn’t be forced to be. Like their trying to make her a reasonable person who only wants best for people around her but she is also someone actively participating in a war with DRAGONS and as everyone keeps repeating there isn’t a war as bloody as one with dragons. And look i love a little hypocrisy in my characters i eat it up but this is ridiculous. You want a war so be in it. And if you don’t want to work with some people tough shit, you need others to get things done. And god forbid they challenge you on anything.

And look I tried to ignore it as much as i could but, do they hate men. Like genuinely asking, because every man in this show with the exception of like 2 characters is immensely unlikeable. And i’m not saying you can’t have unlikeable men. But like it’s a bit of a pattern. The women are the ones trying to avoid war and the men are all gung ho to lose their lives. Like i think they were trying to be feminist by making the women the only reasonable ones and men unreasonable. But they were so feminist that it came around to being misogynistic. Which i didn’t think could happen. And this being pseudo medieval time period with misogyny and all that it seems like there are parts where they are just like forcing patriarchy and other parts it does not seem to exist. Like equality is the norm and patriarchy is the outlier. Like there were women in charge of houses, which is not abnormal in of itself but like they don’t explain it. Like they could’ve been like the lord of that house is ill and his lady-wife takes care of everything. Or been like she’s in the fighting because she has a talent for it and is a bastard. Like I don’t know if any of you have seen the show Black Sails but one of the characters Eleanor basically runs pirate island and that doesn’t make sense because it the 1700’s but it’s explained that her father put her in charge because she was raised there and had a mind for business. And I know it’s a sad thing to be like a woman can only have power in proximity to a man. But like aren’t they going for realism, that’s what was so intriguing about the game of thrones universe. How people given shit circumstances rise above them. And some of these people happen to be women. If this was like one of those comfy fantasy with like fantasy creatures and like loose plots and there aren’t really rules and modern sensibilities are ingrained then I could dig it. Like yah you go girl be a pirate and you be a merchant and you are an advisor to the king. abut this isn’t that. And I can already see how an argument can be made that the entire show is overcoming the circumstances of your birthright being taken because you are a woman. Which I will reply that like I said earlier in order to do that they need the women to have agency and push for it or let it go. Which is options that Rhaneyra has.

And maybe i’m wrong and all those loose plot threads and bizarre character choices will payoff in season 3 and i’ll be the weirdo who doubted them.

[colourstreakgryffin]

I have a request to make. Yandere obanai vs yandere mitsuri vs yandere shinobu, with a darling reader with a pet anaconda (who is also quite the cuddle bug)also the anacondas name is noodle.

Happily will do this idea! It actually sounds somewhat cute so let’s find out what will happen with these three! A little short but that’s okay, I assume!

Lol. This picture is the only thing I can find for these three!

Yandere! Romantic! KNY Hashira Scenarios: Iguro Obanai vs Kanroji Mitsuri vs Kocho Shinobu

What a absolute disaster pitting these three together is. Obanai is hostile, Shinobu is dangerous and Mitsuri is passive-aggressive! So every scenario ends in a vicarious fight that could shake the ground

All three fall for you very close to one another, and find out each other’s feelings for you when they notice the lovestruck glares directed at you during one of the many Hashira gatherings. This triggers the Yandere corruption and it gets worse with the rivalry growing alongside it

Obanai is the first one to find out how about your pet. A big emerald-palette anaconda named “Noodle” by stalking you from your window. Mitsuri learns about Noodle by getting invited into your house and Shinobu learns about Noodle last when you ask for medicines useable on snakes

Obanai knows his snakes very well so he offers you snake care advice as Shinobu and Mitsuri angrily glare at him for winning over your attention so easily. He has the biggest advantage over the two girls, for his knowledge on snakes

Though, all three are very jealous of Noodle for the way you admire and love him. Why does that stupid serpent get your affection?! They are also very jealous of each other

All three love you dearly so they’d never try kill Noodle at all and will always run up to you to give whatever you want for Noodle or for yourself but they all wish they could get rid of Noodle without hurting your feelings

Overall. They argue and fight basically constantly over who can touch you and/or take care of Noodle for you. You do notice how bad it gets from behind closed doors, but you just hope it doesn’t have anything to do with you

Shinobu may or may not put coma-inducing serum in your beloved Noodle’s food to make you come to her for medical care. Mitsuri and Obanai get furious over the situation as they both know that Shinobu is the reason Noodle is hurt and she is hurting you for her own selfish infuriation

Mitsuri is a lot closer to you then she is to Noodle but she is very good at handling the heavy snake as if he weighs nothing to her. Obanai and Shinobu get jealous at the way you coo happily at her and Noodle cuddling

All three are very invasive and clingy, grabbing onto random parts of you whenever they can, bickering and swiping at each other so they’ll back off. It never ends until you get up and walk away, but that doesn’t mean they won’t follow you like a group of ravage fans to a Popstar

You having Noodle isn’t a favourite for Yandere Obanai, Mitsuri and Shinobu but your happiness is very important to them so they don’t really mind that much. Tho, the main problem is the rivalry the trio have against each other

All three are very manipulative, all emotionally. Shinobu tries to directly trick you into thinking the other two are liars, Obanai uses old fashion gaslighting until you think he is the only safe one whilst Mitsuri simply lies about what those two do with a few crocodile tears so you’ll sympathise with her

Won’t deny. Obanai would most likely work hard to invent a new form for Serpent Breathing, mimicking Noodle and other anacondas to try impress you

“Noodle’s a anaconda, my lov— Dokusha. He has very specific requirements for temperatures, try maintaining the cage in 60 to 70 percent humidity with periodic spikes near 100 percent— hm? Don’t thank me, we’re… friends”

“Heeeey! Dokusha! Look! Wanna see something cool! I’m gonna go play with Noodle! Are you ready— Oh! No, don’t worry! He isn’t heavy at all! He’s fine, I’d you want me to, I’ll gladly do it! Anything for you— because it’s fun!”

“Oh my, Dokusha. Noodle likes a bit tuckered out? What is the problem? He… he won’t wake up? Well, that sounds like a good thing— a simply horrible thing! I’ll try figure out what’s wrong, okay! You can rely on me”

[mystic-writings]

remember the nights | chapter six — stargazing

WORD COUNT — 1,772

WARNINGS — none

NOTES — ah yes, the iconic skeletal formula fic, which i taught myself how to write a skeletal formula and promptly deleted the info from my brain a week later

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

School was quickly becoming the bane of your existence. Between the economics test you and the others had all studied for last week — which you were extremely thankful for, as it helped your grade immensely — and the teachers grilling everyone about midterms, you were under more pressure than you’d ever felt, and were assigned more homework than you knew what to do with. 

Along with that came the fact that college admissions had finally opened up, and you were entirely unsure as to where you wanted to go. There were good schools in New York City, and for a very long time you had planned to go to one of them with all of your friends so that you wouldn’t have to pay as much for a dorm or an apartment. Now, though, you’d have to do that wherever you went, and you hadn’t been talking to your city friends as much, and you just weren’t sure what to do anymore. No matter how far you went, you’d have to get a dorm or an apartment, and if you chose to go out of state, that meant even more of a cost. 

Today, though, you were focusing on something that, overall, seemed small, but to you, was anything but. You invited Newt over to the house to help you attempt to understand the one subject that seemed to be out to kill your GPA — chemistry. He should be arriving at any minute, wielding his seemingly miraculous understanding of the science in order to help you with the ten homework questions that you’d been putting off since Thursday. 

Dinner had long been eaten and cleaned up, Thomas and Chuck had retreated to Chuck’s room to play video games for the rest of Chuck’s night, and your dad and Maggie were watching a movie in the living room. You were with them, sitting in the armchair and barely processing the movie as you waited patiently for Newt to show up. 

When the doorbell rang, you practically sprung from your chair, ignoring the chuckle your father let out as you did so. Newt greeted Maggie and your dad as you invited him inside, his school bag slung over one shoulder. He received a quick, warm welcome back from the couple as they kept their eyes on the movie.

Newt followed you upstairs as you led him into your room, keeping the door open — a rule firmly set by your dad when you told him about Newt’s coming over this afternoon, though you knew nothing that your dad was implying was going to happen between you and Newt. 

“I still don’t get how you don’t understand chemistry,” Newt said, dropping his bag by your bed and taking a seat on it. 

You scoffed, grabbing your textbook and homework supplies, sitting cross legged near the head of your bed. “Says the guy who was literally named after Isaac Newton.” 

“One, remind me to punch Gally when I see him tomorrow for telling you that,” Newt rolled his eyes, “and two, Isaac Newton was a mathematician, not a chemist. You’re thinking of Marie Curie.”

“Oh, like that makes such a big difference,” you dismissed him, grabbing your pencils. “You’re still named after a freaking genius.” 

Newt laughed, shaking his head before mirroring your position on the bed and diving into the material. 

Half an hour passed by as Newt explained the homework and everything that related to it, but it seemed as though your brain simply refused to process it. You’d only gotten three questions done, and you were twice as frustrated as you were when you first started. 

“How do skeletal formulas even work? I don’t get it.” You groaned, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. “Just write out the damn formula, give me a periodic table, and let me figure it out from there.” 

Newt couldn’t stifle his laughter. “It doesn’t quite work like that, Y/n,” he said, writing something out on his piece of paper and showing it to you. “Writing out a skeletal formula is just taking an outstretched version of a molecule and breaking it down into its functional groups and carbon.” 

He turned the paper back to him, writing something out, and underlining ‘2-butanol’ before getting back to work, explaining and showing it to you as he went along. “So, you see how I wrote out all the atoms connected to one another with these lines? C is carbon, H is hydrogen, and O is oxygen. The lines that connect the carbon together is the carbon skeleton, and OH — the oxygen and hydrogen — are the functional group, so they can stay, and so can the carbon.” 

Newt erased some things on the paper before the lead hit the paper, drawing out something new. “Take out all of the letters except for the OH, connect all the lines, and viola,” he showed you the paper with a smile. “A skeletal formula.” 

“Oh,” you nodded, “I still don’t get it.” 

Newt sighed, dropping his pencil onto his paper. “Honestly, I’m starting to think you’re a lost bloody cause.”

“Maybe I am.” You shrugged, glancing around your room before an idea came to your mind. “How about we take a break, do something else, and come back to this with fresh minds.” 

“Like what?”

You smiled, almost mischievously, nodding your head to the window across the room. “Wanna go look at the stars?”

Within minutes, you and Newt had pulled a blanket onto the roof of the garage, laying it out across the shingles in order to be comfortable. Newt had grabbed his jacket from where he put it on the back of your chair, and you brought out your comfiest sweater from your closet. 

Newt was already laying down comfortably by the time you’d gotten onto the roof again, his hands tucked under his head. You laid down in the spot to his right, eyes trailing up to the sky, mesmerized by the view. The quiet of a town already gone to sleep settled over the two of you, washing away the stress of high school chemistry and replacing it with the tranquility of a quiet town and a beautiful sky. 

“It’s so beautiful,” 

“Yeah, it is,” Newt’s voice nearly caught you off guard, as though you’d forgotten he was even there. 

When you turned to look at him, his eyes were already on you. 

Newt sucked in a breath, turning his gaze back to the stars. “I used to do stuff like this all the time when I was younger.” 

“I don’t think I’ve seen stars like this… well, ever.” You admitted. “Living in a big city, all that light pollution… The sky didn’t even get that dark at night. It just got sort of… reddish. It wasn’t even like it was really dark outside sometimes.” 

“Really?” Newt frowned. “I can’t even imagine something like that. When I was young, I had this obsession with the stars and constellations and stuff. Every chance I got, I’d ask my mum to buy me books about them. I even learned how to point out the bloody constellations from my bedroom window.” 

And, for the next little while, that’s what Newt did. For the better part of an hour, though it didn’t feel anything close to that long, Newt pointed up at the stars, rattling off star names, the names of the constellations that connected them, and some of the stories that people connected to them long ago. You watched him happily, soaking up everything he told you. You glanced at him more than you did the sky, though, as the look on his face was what had you truly enamored. The passion and joy gleaming in his eyes was worth the cold chilling you to the bone. 

The chill of the autumn air mixed well with the cadence in Newt’s voice, soothing you until, before you knew it, you were teetering in and out of sleep, balancing very carefully on that dangerous tightrope. 

When you finally found the strength to open your eyes, Newt had fallen silent, eyes locking with yours as a playful smile stretched onto his lips. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You fell asleep,” he laughed. 

“I did?”

“Yeah, about twenty minutes ago, I think,” he shrugged, sitting up. “We might wanna go inside now, though. I’ve gotta go soon, and we still have work to do.”

You groaned, dreading going back to the discarded chemistry textbooks on your bed, watching Newt push himself to his feet and extending two hands to help you stand. You accepted the help and quickly got to your feet, ignoring how warm his hands were in your ice-like ones. 

Still, you folded up the blanket and trudged inside after Newt, returning to your homework and doing your best to complete it within the half hour window you were left with until Newt had to go back home. Most of that time, however, had been spent joking around, mostly about how you were most definitely going to fail the class, until you decided to copy Newt’s homework, which is mainly what you’d been doing for most of the semester, anyway. 

You walked Newt to the door at ten minutes to ten o’clock. Most of the lights in the house were off, and your main guiding light was the TV as your father lay on the couch, passed out with some history docuseries playing absently in front of him. 

You opened the door for Newt, leaning against the frame with one hand on the doorknob after he passed through it and stepped onto the front porch. Just as he began to leave, you said, “Thanks, by the way,”

Newt turned, a playful smile on his face. “For what? Letting you copy my homework for the hundredth time?”

“No,” you scoffed a laugh, “for teaching me something, at least. I might not understand the shrouding mystery behind a skeletal formula, but I do know about the Greek mythology of Orion’s belt, and that’s gotta count for something.” 

Newt shrugged, his smile growing softer with each second. “No biggie. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” You nodded, watching him descend your few stairs and head to his car, pulling away from the curb and heading home. 

Long after his headlights were gone from your sight, you headed inside with a sigh, resting your forehead against the wood of the door as you closed it. And even though the day ahead of you was just going to be another boring, monotonous day, you couldn’t help but be excited for it to begin.

series masterlist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine (open!)

[angelicyouth]

Youth ; Chapter 3

⇢ pairing: kenny mccormick x marsh!reader x craig tucker

⇢ synopsis: ❝Growing up with the boys as the sole girl of the group, it was only natural for them to grow protective over their pseudo-little sister as the years went by.❞

⇢ warning: descriptions of a panic attack

⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist] ; [previous] ; [next]

A cacophony of voices fight to be heard over the other, everyone shit talking around the game of Mario Kart that’s currently set up in our living room. The boys and I watch as the four players duke it out on the big screen, witnesses to a friendship-breaking competition.

Loud stomping abruptly interrupts the taunts, “Y/N! What the hell? Is that my fucking shirt that you’re wearing?” My brother violently hollers from his spot, standing halfway down the stairs to peer down at the rest of us.

“The one you’ve been looking for all morning? Yup.” I lazily drawl from my spot on the couch, obnoxiously popping the “p” in my reply. My head slightly shifts as Tweek attempts to neatly braid my hair, Butters gently coaching him from the side.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that? Made me waste a bunch of time looking for nothing.” Stan continues as he finishes his journey down the stairs.

“You act like you have better things to do, loser. No girlfriend, no job—nada. So I don’t see what the big deal is. Are you on your period or something?” An accidental sharp tug makes me wince, Tweek muttering apologies as he quickly kisses the top of my head in repentance for his mistake.

“Shut up! Quit stealing my shit!” He's standing off to the side of the couch now, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed.

I glare at Stan and say around a mouthful of orange chicken at the top of my lungs. “Quit stealing my weed then!”

”God, you’re such a fucking pothead!” He shouts, fists clenching in anger.

”Says the alcoholic who starts his day with a shot!” It’s a low blow but all I can see is red.

“Bro, quit being a whiny bitch. You’re not dirt poor like Kinny. Just buy a new one.” Said blonde flashes Cartman his middle finger so he rolls his eyes and attempts to correct himself. “What? Fine, at least you weren’t born ginger and a Jew like Kahl. Talk about a double whammy, I’d honestly kill myself.”

”You don’t need a reason to kill yourself, Cartman. Make all of us happy for once and just do it. If you really need a reason, just think about how fat you are and how much wasted space you take up.”

”Aye!”

The match concludes with Jimmy coming out on top and the boys deciding to abandon the game entirely. They resume eating the Chinese takeout that’s laid out on the coffee table in front of them and half-heartedly listen to the sibling’s routine bickering.

“Take it off.” He scoffs at me, face heated with anger. Tolkien rolls his eyes so hard that I’m surprised a headache doesn’t occur.

“Huh?”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’re stupid, not deaf. Want me to ask mom to get you hearing aids? I said: take. It. Off.” Comes out of my brother’s gritted teeth, each word growing more impatient and strained.

“Big deal, Stan! There’s so many other fucking shirts in this house. Feel free to get one from my closet if you need one so bad.” I retort in exasperation, clenching the denim on Tweeks legs that lay on either side of my body in frustration.

“Ack!” The frenzied blond yelps from behind me and I let go, fiddling with the creases on his jeans instead.

“No! Didn’t you hear me, r-tard? It’s mine, I bought it. Now, take it off!” Kyle closes his eyes at the elder Marsh’s words, tired beyond his years.

“Able to throw some money away for a dumb shirt but you can’t even pay me back my hundred dollars.” The local space enthusiast mumbles to himself, a chorus of ‘shut up, Craig!’ resounds from the boys in Team Stan.

“Fine!” I smirk and get off from my perch on the couch, a sly yet very bold idea pops up into my head. The perfect little thing to piss my dear older brother off. If you want petty, I’ll give you petty.

I grab my shirt from the hem and start to slowly lift it off of my frame, quirking a smug eyebrow and taunting my brother with a smile when more skin starts to show.

“Woohoo!” Kenny hollers excitedly at me, his hands in the air.

“F-f-fuck! No! Quit it, will you?! Don’t fucking do that!” Stan pushes those in his way aside and the boys make it hard for him on purpose by sticking out their legs to trip him. My brother scrambles over to me, forcing my hands down.

“Aw. What’s wrong, Stanley? You’re starting to sound a lot like Jimmy, how cute. I thought you wanted your stupid shirt?” I jeer at him. It’s like what Bebe always says: boys never know what they want and that’s the problem with them. Amen, sister.

“Ewww, Marsh. No one wants to see your underdeveloped body.” Craig socks Cartman on the arm, hard and the larger teen squeals like a dying pig.

“Don’t listen to them, sexy! Keep on going!” Clyde joins in laughing, sliding off his jacket and twirling it over his head in support of the apparent stripping going on.

“You’re voluptuous! Curvaceous! I’m already down on my knees at the sight of you, sweet thang!” Clyde continues to exaggeratedly hype me up, comically imitating the sound of a barking dog afterwards.

“I don’t know how you guys can take her seriously when her hair’s only halfway done. Looks like a damn hippie.” Cartman mumbles, more focused on inhaling his food and rubbing his now sore arm.

“Pffft, b-buh-baby Marsh gone w-wild!” Kung pao chicken accompanies Jimmy’s words of encouragement and he grabs one of his arm crutches, twirling it above his head too. My hands are still at the hem of my shirt, lifted up slightly and exposing a sliver of skin, even when my brother lets go.

I turn my head and catch Craig’s eyes trailing down as he smirks at me, his eyebrows lifted up playfully. A glint in his deep blues as he nonchalantly says, “I wouldn’t mind.”

While I’d normally giggle in amusement at the normally stoic teen and the contribution towards further riling my brother up, my face immediately flushes red after my talk with the girls at the party. I’d say that butterflies are invading my stomach, struggling to break free but it honestly feels like a whole damn zoo down there.

Feeling the adrenaline rush from my brother’s anger, the boys egging me on, and Craig’s attention, my heart beats at record breaking speed and I can feel my cheeks shyly heat up. This development doesn’t go by unnoticed as Kenny stops his playful cheering and laughing, watching the interaction between us two with furrowed brows.

“Fuck off, Tucker. Actually, fuck both of you all the way to hell.” My brother grumbles, angrily throwing himself onto an unoccupied space on the couch with his arms crossed. “It’s the fucking principle of things.”

“Big word, Stanley. Is that your word of the day? Did you learn it from this week’s episode of Sesame Street?” I mock him with a pout in fake sympathy.

“Shut the fuck up before I kick your fucking teeth in!” My brother’s stupid face goes red with anger.

He pouts when Kyle holds him back and rolls his eyes, ever the voice of reason. “They were just joking, Stan.”

“Yeah, Stanley. I was just joking.” My eyes continue to follow Craig as he lifts a bite of food towards his handsome face, wooden chopsticks pressed against his still smirking plush lips.

“Craig.” My brother says sharply this time, straightening up his back to glare at the teen over Cartman’s bigass head. I’m slightly confused as to what’s happening but still loving the attention Craig is giving me.

“Relax, Marsh.” Craig chuckles with a challenging look in his eyes. Tension begins to grow in the room and I’m lost because the other guys would normally laugh at suave shit like that and instigate a fight.

I roll my eyes and figure that it’s just them being overly protective, going back to my spot in between the cute coffee addict’s legs so that he can finish his attempt at doing my hair. Butters has a small braid done in between tufts of silky blonde from when I demonstrated the process to Tweek. He rubs his knuckles together, nervous energy exuding from his body as I return next to him.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The girls excitedly informed me of tryouts and the process, which involves practice with the already established team and the new potential recruits. A week and a half is given to learn a few cheers before the day they hold the official tryouts, which was today. It’s here where I finally meet Nichole Daniels, Tolkien’s girlfriend. It would’ve been nice if he brought her over from time to time but I can understand his vehement refusal of bringing her anywhere near a number of dumb boys. Trouble seems to follow the guys wherever they go.

As promised to the parentals, I attended and it’s not as bad as I thought it would be with the friends I’ve already made being here. I’ve never had problems with dancing as it comes easy to me so it’s nice to just hang out and bask in the feminine energy.

My parent’s request has continued to go under the radar as the boys have been busy with the football season starting. Their practice allows me to not have to think of an excuse for staying out late since they’re already busy, extracurricular activities taking up their time after school as they prepare for the season.

I shove the heavy front doors of the school open, the sun almost fully set as a gradient of red, yellow, and orange bathe me in their hues. The girls always remember to offer me a ride home from their parents but I always politely reject, my guilt not allowing any of them to go out of their way and use their gas on me.

My hands are shoved into my pockets, trying to accumulate as much heat as possible while I begin the journey home. Wisps of fleeting, misty clouds escape from my mouth after each puff of breath I let out and I watch them disappear. I bask in the rare moment of solitude and the quiet that comes with it.

I’m colder than I normally would be tonight because a freshman accidentally spilled her gatorade onto the duffel bag that I’ve been using for cheer. Not only were the sweats that I usually throw on over my shorts drenched in sticky sweetness, but the clothes I wore to school earlier were also an unlucky casualty to the liquid electrolytes.

I wonder if I’ll make the cheer team, I ponder to myself.

The rhythmic sound of my steps on the concrete sidewalk accompany me on my walk and I hum to myself until I hear sharp, rambunctious laughter. I’m startled as my head shoots up and see that across from me in the distance are a group of boisterous, older teens. Fear resounds within me when I faintly remember them terrorizing my brother and friends when they were in the fourth grade, them having been in the sixth at the time.

I pray in my head that they don’t notice me but my prayers go unanswered as they cross the street, now joining me on the same sidewalk. I know I can’t outrun them so I panic and impulsively decide to take a detour, turning right into an alleyway until I dreadfully notice that I can still hear them from behind. What was once just the sound of obnoxious laughter is now the noise of thundering footsteps following closely, beginning to get louder and louder.

My feet hastily pick up their pace and I can feel the tremors reverberate through my now sweating hands, anxiety filling me to the very core. My trembling makes the process of pulling out my phone agonizingly slow and I silently curse at my misfortune.

The white puffs of air that once brought me entertainment on my walk now serve as a reminder of the danger I’m in. Unlike before, they come out of my mouth in quick intervals and I clench my teeth to bid them away.

Out of nowhere, someone roughly yanks on my ponytail and they’re quick to cut off my yelp as a rough hand forces itself onto my mouth. The assailant painfully holds onto my other arm, both grips enforcing excruciating pain.

“Hey, I recognize you. You go to our school, always around those dumb boys.” One of the perpetrators in front of me sneers as he brings his face up to mine, his rancid breath invading my senses and making me feel even sicker than before.  

“Lucky, aren’t we? We got baby Marsh!” Their eyes lighten up in both delight and recognition. I can feel upcoming bile trying to force its way up my throat from hearing the term of endearment the boys call me used like this, the connotation eerie in this situation.

Trying to make a sound is futile as all my cries for help are muffled, my captor getting annoyed at my squirming and relocating his hold on my arm to my neck instead. He squeezes and I whimper in fear, my breathing becomes more desperate when my kicking and elbows do nothing to deter him.

“Why’re you crying? You’re just asking for it when you walk around in fucking shorts. We live in South Park. No one would dress that way outside in the snow if they weren’t a total slut.” They all degradingly mock me, laughter resounding throughout the cold air as foreign fingers begin to play along the edge of my shorts.

“Pffft, dumb bitch.” One of them slaps me just because they have the power to do so in my vulnerable state before squeezing both of my cheeks together with one hand, hard.

“Who wants to go first?” They all fight over the answer to the question and I clench my eyes shut in dread, the color draining from my face.

Before they can do anything, yelling can be heard and I’m dropped by my captor. I stumble to the dirty ground of the alleyway at the loss of my previous support. On the floor, I painfully dig my nails onto my thighs. My breath hitches and my chest tightens, my panicking intensifying despite finally being free.

Short breaths rake through my trembling body and my nails dig deeper. Crescent moons appear on soft skin, invoking blood. My head starts to feel a little light and I try my hardest to calm myself down but it’s to no avail, my attempts prove to be futile. My unoccupied hand trembles as they reach up to touch wet, stinging cheeks. I didn’t even notice that I‘ve begun to sob as every gasp for air racks my body.

“Holy shit.” Varying voices can be heard from around me but my mind barely registers their words as my head continues to feel even lighter than before.

Even though I’m unable to determine whether or not I’m safe, I don’t flinch when someone crouches next to me and hastily crushes me against their hard chest. I’m numb to my surroundings and everything feels distorted. It’s as if I’m underwater, drowning.

“Ack! She’s hyperventilating! Gyah!”

“No fucking shit captain obvious!”

“Shut the fuck up!” The chest I’m against rumbles and my brain finally registers it as the sound of Kenny’s voice. I muster up what little strength I have to look up and see my boys around me. My brother is directly crouched in front of me and from my peripherals, I can just barely see that it’s Kyle in the same position next to him, eyes wide in panic.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

“Fuck! What should we do?!” It’s Tolkien this time but I can’t look away from my brother. My eyes are begging him to do something, anything to make it stop. Oh how I wish twin telepathy were real.

“Breathe, baby. You need to breathe for me.” The world tilts around me as a soothing voice near my ear urges. A resounding gasp of air struggles to be inhaled but it’s too shaky and tears of frustration continue to fall. My breathing isn’t slowing and I just want this to be over.

“Someone needs to do something before her heart gives out!” Someone loudly kicks what sounds to be a trash can in anger, messily spilling its contents all over the floor and I flinch at the blow.

“Y/N, breathe.” Stan coaches me, taking my hand and placing it on his chest. His large hand encompasses my smaller one, exerting slight pressure until I can feel his heartbeat.

“Just focus on the sound of my voice and follow me. In, and out. In, and out. I’m here. You see me, right? You’re here with me at this very moment and you’re safe. You’re always safe with me. Big brothers always got you, yeah?”

I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t.

I’ve been trying and nothing is happening.

It won’t stop and I can’t fucking breathe.

I don’t want to disappoint everyone but I’m tired.

“Shh, shh. You can, love, you can. I know you can.” Kenny patiently encourages me as he gently brushes strands of my hair away from my sticky, tear-stained cheeks. Heavily disoriented, I didn’t seem to realize that I was verbalizing all of my thoughts.

“You know why? Because my girl is the absolute best—the best girl ever and everyone who's anybody knows that. She’s resilient and just so, so strong. As long as she tries her best, I’ll always be proud of her no matter what and nothing she can do will ever disappoint me. Literally, nothing. She could put a bullet through my head and I’d just pass away in euphoria because my last living memory is of a goddess with ethereal beauty.” Kenny continues and ever so slightly, a corner of my lip lifts up.

This is familiar. This is comforting. I know this. The playful flirting and cheesy, over the top exaggeration. His soothing voice helps guide me back down to Earth as I focus on the rising chest of my brother under my fingertips. This is familiar, too. It’s a sound I’ve always known, even before I was born. Whenever I’m feeling sad or scared, my big brother will always hug me to his chest, my ear pressed against the faint beating of his heart. The rhythmic sound let’s me know that I’m safe, I always am when he’s here. This sound is the other half of me.

“Good girl, you’re doing great. Really great. You always do great and I knew you would.” It’s the voice near my ear again and this time, I’m finally able to look away from my brother to see that the voice belongs to Craig. It appears he had a hand on my shoulder throughout the whole ordeal, his thumb rubbing comforting circles over my jacket.

I now notice that Butters has my other hand firmly in his, tears streaking down both his and Clyde’s faces. They all must have found me after practice and I’m thankful that I wasn’t too far from the school before everything went down.

When they ask me what I was doing out so late, in athletic shorts no less, I mumble an excuse about the girls inviting me to workout in the weight room back at school. They don’t know that it’s not just today that I’ve been trekking home alone at night and I don't want to correct their assumption when they sternly lecture me on how dangerous it is.

After taking me home and getting myself cleaned up, they decide on an impromptu movie night filled with blankets, pillows, and snacks. Last minute texts are sent to their parents, notifying them of an emergency sleepover. They place me in the middle, a cocoon of softness, warmth, and comfort. They let me choose all the movies for the rest of the night and the food we order for delivery.

Our faces are colored a pale green from the clay mask I put on everyone, those with longer hair having mini palm trees at the top of their head from being tied up away from their faces.

Self care, they told me.

This isn’t edible so don’t try to lick it off your face, I told Cartman.

I slowly look around and take in the bright light of the television reflecting off of their individual faces. Some people, like Tolkien and Kyle, are starting to nod off, fighting the last dredges of sleep for my sake. On the other end of the spectrum, Butters and Clyde jump at every loud sound that accompanies the suspenseful music, paranoia painting their faces white. Tweek catches my eye and gently feeds me a kernel of popcorn.

Surrounded by my boys, I smile knowing I’m safe whenever I’m with them.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

I’m sitting in front of my vanity, carefully applying some makeup to cover the faint bruising on my cheek, the process therapeutic. The occasional clicking of buttons could be heard, Craig lounging on my bed with a handheld gaming console in his hands. I softly mouth along to the words of the low music playing from my phone while faint laughter can be heard from downstairs.

I chance a glance up and catch Craig’s reflection from the corner of my eyes, but I don’t turn my head around as we make eye contact through the mirror. My lips unconsciously quirk up, fondness of the boy behind me fills my entire being from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. “Hmm? What’s up, Tucker?”

He doesn’t say anything, only a thoughtful look adorning his attractive features. Ever since the night the boys found me, I’ve been catching their lingering gazes on me from time to time. Eyes distant, as if they’re looking past me.

I settle both of my elbows onto the tabletop, my hands carefully framing both of my cheeks lest I smudge my hard work. My smile doesn’t falter, never when I’m with him, and I lightheartedly tease him, “What? Never seen a good looking Marsh before? I know you’re around my brother all the time but he's not that ugly.”

I’m successful in getting a reaction from him because I’m soon rewarded with a twinkle of mirth in his eyes, his expression softening, “Come here.”

His deep voice is firm, filling my room with its gentle demand and I blindly obey. With Craig, I’d do just about anything for him. He’s now seated upright and has positioned himself at the edge of my bed, legs open and his thumb tapping a beat onto his thigh.

When I’m close enough, the boy grabs both of my hands, interlocking our fingers together. He gives the intertwined digits a swift, reassuring squeeze before guiding me to him to close the short distance between us. I stand in between his legs and he elicits sudden goosebumps along my arms as he carefully drags his long fingers down the length of it, slowly before finding purchase at my hips.

I instinctively loop my arms around his neck, bringing us closer together and he gently squeezes in response. He murmurs so quietly, “Are you okay?”

I softly reply, my thumbs rubbing soothing circles onto the back of his neck, catching strands of smooth black hair. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

Our voices are hushed. There’s no need to be quiet but it feels like we’re in a bubble and at any disruption, no matter how slight, might pop it.

“Yeah… You know I’m always here for you, right?” I softly nod in response, a slight shift in this space of intimacy we’ve created.

“You know you have me, right?” Again, I nod as I hang onto his words.

“Because I’d do anything for you, Y/N. It doesn’t matter what it is—big or small. At the asscrack of dawn or in the middle of the night. I'd drop whatever I was doing if it meant getting to you when you need me.” His long fingers reach up to lightly smooth his thumb at the area where soft skin meets makeup.

“If you ever have any doubts or feel upset about anything, just talk to me, okay? And I promise that I’ll do whatever I can to erase those doubts and remind you of how much you mean to me. I don’t ever want you to feel alone or less of anything, not when you mean everything to me.” The ravenette continues as he moves his hand, this time tucking silky strands of hair away from my face and behind my ear.

I shyly giggle in bliss at his soft touch and even lighter voice. “Where is this coming from, Craig?”

He ignores my question, persistent to convey his message to me. “You do know that, right, Y/N?”

“Of course, I’ve never doubted it or thought otherwise.”

“Good.” The teen says, satiated before bringing us down onto the bed.

My hands lay themselves against his chest to keep myself upright and he caresses my head with both hands, angling my head down to give my forehead a soft kiss. His lips lingers before pulling away.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

It wasn’t hard for the girls to see the slight traces of lingering purple under my attempted camouflage. I tried to reassure them that it wasn’t anyone’s fault but mine, yet they persisted in trying to make up for it due to the guilt they all felt.

I had just finished applying my daily cover up and was adding the final touches to my hair, making sure that every single strand was in place. Satisfied, I turn the brightness of my computer screen back up until the reflection of myself on the glass disappears. I had time before I was due to head out so I loosely curled every lock cascading down my shoulders, braids adorning either side of my head. The girls wanted to take me out later in the day as an otherwise unnecessary apology and I hummed to myself in excitement.

“Wow, doll. Is this all for me?” I look up from the boss battle I was currently engaged in, pausing to identify the intruder that let out a low whistle.

Kenny leans off from his laidback position on my door frame and lazily walks up behind me, the end of his lips quirked up. He gives me an appreciative hum as he takes his time scanning my appearance, indulging his eyes on my figure. I patiently smile at his appreciation.

“Ah, scratch that. That was a stupid question, you’re beautiful every single day to anyone who lays their eyes on you. You don’t even need to try so I meant to say that this is a welcomed treat.” I turn around in my seat to face him, giggling at his words of praise. I greedily drink them in as I loop my arms around his waist.

“Beautiful?” I seek more of his validation, a deepening blush rising on my cheeks as I parrot back his compliment.

He takes a small section of my hair and gently guides his hand to his face, kissing the soft locks in his possession. He hums to me, “Beautiful, bewitching, alluring… You’re every synonym and every iteration of the word, babe. You define beautiful, you’re the very embodiment of it. That word was created because of you—if I were to look under the definition of it, your name would be there.”

My smile grows wider and my cheeks start to hurt from the action, resulted by the constant influx of euphoria that the blonde never fails to provide me. Whether from being drunk on the male’s compliments or shyness, the color red has made its permanent residence onto my cheeks.

He lets go of my hair and gently cups his large hands on either side of my face, angling it up towards his taller figure.

“Pretty.” He quietly utters to my skin, kissing my forehead.

“Gorgeous.” A kiss to my nose this time.

“Irresistible.” A kiss to my left cheek.

“Ravishing.” A firmer kiss to my right cheek with a playful growl, melodic laughter gets pulled out of me.

“Lovely.” He says much softer this time, watching me with gentle eyes. He keeps his devoted gaze onto my visage, his thumb lightly goes over my lips once. “Everything a guy could ever ask for in a person. Everything that I could ever want in life. If I could have one wish, it’d be you.”

My eyes flicker between bright azure orbs, the air between us charged. Before I can say anything, the sound of muffled yelling from my brother’s room startles us. I hastily look away embarrassed, the moment between us broken.

“Can I make you pretty, too?” I flash him a toothy grin and he playfully rolls his eyes, seeking refuge onto my bed. That’s all the answer I need before I push at his shoulders to guide his back down before I settle myself onto his lower stomach, giggling with an eyeshadow palette in one hand and a makeup brush in the other.

Washing flecks of glittery white over his eyelids, I bring my face closer to his and take the time to study the teen under me while his eyes are closed. His slender hands find purchase at my hips and I find myself mesmerized at the mini constellations that adorn his handsome face. Albeit not many, every freckle looks like a tiny star, accentuating the blonde’s mesmerizing features.

I lean in closer to get a better look as I carefully paint a streak of black, a steady hand making a line. I inspect my latest stroke when his hand gently grabs the wrist of the hand I have hovering over his face, the same one holding my eyeliner brush. His eyes slowly open as to not disturb my art, our faces close to one another. Kenny showcases his boyish smile, flashing me with deep dimples at the lack of space between us and my eyes inadvertently lower, seeking plush lips.

“Haven’t you noticed that yeah, the boys are overprotective over you. But when it comes to Kenny and Craig, it’s different?”

Fuck.

[qqueenofhades]

Hi! Just wanted to say I found my way to your blog after a mutual recced one of your Old Guard fics and mentioned you were a medievalist (I LOVE medieval history, though I am simply an amateur nerd) and was extremely pleasantly surprised to see so many level-headed political takes on this blue hellsite. I'm sure some of your posts on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in particular have attracted more than a few mouth breather asks, so I just wanted to say I really appreciate your thorough and nuanced breakdowns of not only the conflict, but American politics in general. I know it's not your academic area of expertise, but your perspective as a historian is incredibly insightful and has honestly even brought some comfort in These Trying Times. I like to go through your posts whenever I feel the 2024 election anxiety seizing hold.

Aha, thank you. I do my best. And while yes, I do periodically get deeply stupid asks/notes on some of my more controversial posts, I will say that I am at least old enough to not give a shit about what idiots on social media say, and I am nothing if not stubborn. So yes, I persist, and I am glad that plenty of people also seem to appreciate what I do and like to listen and/or be comforted by what I have to say. Win some lose some, etc.

As I have said, I am a historian, and while that doesn't mean I have the Greatest Takes Ever of All Time and nobody can question me, it does mean that I view things in a particular long, careful, and systematic way, taking into account multiple perspectives and facts and points of view, because that is what I have been trained to do. As far as the election goes: trust me, I am as terrified about it as everyone else, and I'm already having to carefully manage, restrict, and otherwise be mindful about how much content I am taking in and from what sources. It is only February and November is probably going to kill me. But we have to do our best to be both realistic and hopeful, so I do.

Once again, I am just a person on the Internet and I do not have some magical guarantee of being right. But I will say that my predictions and views do quite often correspond closely with actual reality, and that makes me decently confident that I do in fact understand the situation and am able to analyze/discuss it accurately. Which is certainly something that anyone can do, if they're patient; you don't need to be a historian for that. As I have said before, I am doomed on social media because I don't go in for short soundbites or pithy black and white statements. But it does show that I am able to think and speak in a hopefully more useful way than the usual garbage noise, I'm honored that people are often eager to come to me when they want some basic reassurance, and I do my best. So yes. Thanks. (And glad you enjoyed the fic!)

[hyperfizationss]

Can you please write about Miguel getting sick and the reader taking care of him? If possible can the reader be a girl? Thank you!

I really like this request,and thanks for being my first requester

𝓢𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 <3

Miguel x fem reader

“Miguel has called in sick for that last couple of days,he usually doesn’t miss being here unless it’s like a flu or something” Jess said “it’s not like him,I’m sorta worried” she said as she kept pacing around the room “I’ll go check on him if you want,ya know see if he needs anything,check that he’s not dead” I said as I put my hand on her shoulder.she let out a small laugh and told me that would be for the best.

I quickly swung over to Miguel’s house trying to find an open window.I crawled in to the living room and took off my mask. “geez what a clean freak” I said admiring the clean state his house was in. I made my way up the stairs,he’s only one guy why does he need such a big house?

I walk over to what I assume to be his room and to no surprise I see him huddled up in a blanket on his bed,I quickly pull out my phone and snap a quick picture because I could help but find the sight cute.my phone makes a weird click noise when I take the picture and his eyes immediately dart towards the door.

“Please don’t kill me!I only came here to see if you were ok!” I said backing up from the door frame.

“Ugh I’m to tired to deal with you right now” Miguel said before Turing back onto his bed and laying down facing his wall.

“Well your still a pissy brat so,I’m assuming your fine” I said Turing to the door again “I’ll be on my way ou-“ i suddenly felt my body jult towards his bed,the poor guy used his webs to pull me over towards him

“Please don’t leave yet.I feel like shit today,can you maybe just stay” he said as he tugged at the bottom of my shirt,covering his face with his other arm

“Oh so the big bad wolf wants me to stay with him while he’s sick in bed” I say crouching down a bit to get lower to his face

“I could tell you to fuck off instead” he said glaring at me again

“Ok,ok I’ll lay off the teasing.so what exactly did you come down with,or are you on your period” I asked

“I thought you said you were done teasing.” He looked at me annoyed while he sat up against his bed frame

“Force of habit,anyways what is this a cold or something more serious” I say as I pull a swivel chair away from a desk in his room

“I’m not sure what it is,I’m to tired to go to the doctors” he said rolling his eyes

“Well you should still set up an appointment,can’t have the defender of the multiverse die from the flu” I say as I lightly punch his shoulder

“I don’t like doctors,too many questions,and their offices are always so cold”

“I know a certain someone who could also use a heater in his office” I said cocking an eyebrow up

“…fair point” he said Turing his face away,I can’t tell if he was blushing from embarrassment or from his little sickness

“You like need anything,another blanket,some tissues?” I asked

“No,just sit here and talk with me”

I’ll never understand this man,he hates when people bother him at the spider society,but yet he wants me of all people,probably the biggest pain in his ass to stay and talk with him.I don’t understand it,but I’m definitely not against it.

Gotta admit not seeing him in his suit is quite interesting,he was wearing grey sweatpants and a white T-shirt along with the blanket he hand hung over his shoulders.

I moved the swivel chair closer to his bed as I stood up and placed my hand on his forehead

“Wha-this isn’t necessary!” Miguel said taking my hand down and holding it with both of his.

“No I really think it is,your burning up,you probably have a fever.” He still haven’t let go of my hand yet still holding it with both of his,I put my other hand on top of his and just stare down at my feet on the hard wood floors.

“Look i think you have a cold,nothing to serious,I’ll run to the store and get you cold medicine and you’ll feel better in no time,how’s that sound big guy?” I said looking up at him not yet moving my hands from his

“That’s sounds good” he said letting go of my hands,I begin to walk out of the room when I hear Miguel start to talk again “also don’t call me big guy,that’s weird”he said pulling his blanket over his shoulders again

“Ok then big fella!” I quickly shut the door to his room because I could already feel his eyes glaring at me

I jump back through the window downstairs and start my swing to the store

“He’s mean but,I think he has a soft side” I say to myself stopping at a building much taller than some others

I began to rethink the previous interaction I just had with him,maybe he is more than just a brooding brat,he’s quite sweet actually

(The endings a bit rushed,I just got home from an activity and I’m sweating bullets and I’m tired as fuck so sorry if it’s a bit sloppy)

[dragonmasterkaylz]

Teenager! Tangerine x Teenager! Reader- Highschool Sweethearts

This is a story about when Lemon and Tangerine were teenagers. There are some references to the actual film and I had to make up their real names since their actual names are unknown (for now, I want a series or a film about those two!)

Every teenage girl had her insecurities and in Secondary School, it only gets worse. Especially at the age of fourteen, which is exactly how old Y/N was. She did have friends who would tell her that she was perfect the way she was, but the other girls thought otherwise and would always give her shit for… well… absolutely nothing! They just liked to hate on her because she was prettier than them.

“Ugh! I honestly hate her! She’s such a bitch!” Her friend, Daisy, rubbed her back and said, “You’re better than her! You’re smart, friendly and funny! Boys do like that in a girl”. Y/N looked at her friends, who all nodded. Caitlin, Daisy and Laura were her best friends. “Yeah… I suppose. But I wish Ashley would stop making me feel like shit every chance she gets. It’s really getting on my nerves—?!”

Then they heard some arguing and looked behind them to find two very fit boys talking to one another. “If you talk about Thomas the Tank Engine one more time, I’m gonna punch you in the fucking face!” “Okay, okay… calm down! I won’t talk about it again… for today anyway”, the other boy said, following him. “Luke… you won’t talk about it, period! It’s bloody embarrassing!” “But Elliot, that’s how I read people”. “Does it look like I give a fuck?!”

“Oh wow! I heard about them!”, Caitlin said to her friends with a smile. “Who are they?”, Y/N asked. “Elliot and Luke from the year above. Apparently, they’re brothers in Foster Care. Elliot has a right soldier’s mouth and Luke is into Thomas the Tank Engine. But they are fit”, Laura said. Daisy then looked at Y/N, who was blushing heavily. “Ohhh… you like one of them, don’t you~?” “Shut it!!!”

While walking through school, Y/N sighed as she held her books to her chest, only for someone to push her shoulder. She dropped all of her books and she glared back at Ashley, who laughed at her. “Hey! Are you alright?!” She looked up and found Elliot standing there. “Um… yeah. That bitch just shoved me”, she growled. He frowned and mumbled, “I hate girls like that. Anyway, let me help you”.

He helped her with her books and asked, “Where were you heading?” “The library. I need to study for the upcoming test”. He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, if you want, I can help you”. Y/N’s eyes lit up. “Really?” Elliot smiled and nodded before saying, “Yeah… I need to study as well. What are you studying?” “Maths, my worst subject”. He smiled and said, “Well, I’m quite good, so I can help you”.

While the two were studying, Caitlin, Daisy and Laura all walked in to see how it was going. “Why did they have to add the alphabet? I just don’t get it!”, Y/N complained. Elliot laughed and then leaned over to show her how to solve a problem. “I think he likes her…”, Daisy whispered. “You’re telling me, and look at how pink her cheeks are”, Laura giggled. “Y/N are those your friends over there?” She looked over and sighed. “Just kill me now”.

“Hey… what’s got your knickers in a twist?”, he asked. She sighed and mumbled, “It’s Ashley. She likes to think she’s better than everyone else because she comes from a rich family. But… she’s just a fucking slag”. “Yeah… ‘slag’ is right. And she’s so fake it’s… fucking mental. You should see her in class”, he said before looking at her. “Sorry, I’ve got a bit of a sailor’s mouth…”. She shook her head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind”. He smiled back at her.

After school, Elliot and Luke were walking home together. “So, who’s the girl?” Elliot gave his brother a confused look. “What?” “You can’t hide anything from me. You have a small on your face, which means you have a crush on someone. So, who is she?”, Luke asked. He gave up and rubbed the back of his neck. “A girl from the year below. Her name is Y/N. We were studying together… that’s all”, he told him, when he saw her with her friends.

Luke waved a hand over his face and smiled. “Oh, you’re definitely in love. Just ask her out already!” “I barely know her… I don’t want to make a mistake. Especially after that last bitch a dated”, Elliot said sadly. “Yeah, she was definitely a Diesel”. Then he glared at Luke before asking, “What did I say about talking about Thomas?” “That you’d punch me in the face. But am I ever wrong?” “… No”.

During the weekend, Y/N decided to go to the park to walk her dog, when she saw Elliot playing football with a few of the other boys from school. She giggled and continued walking when her dog started growling, while staring at the ball. “Hey… don’t you dare—! Woah!” She fell to the floor and watched her German Shepherd interrupt their game. “Oh, for heaven’s sake! Get back here!!!”, she shouted.

Elliot gently calmed the dog down and Y/N ran over before saying, “I’m so sorry! He goes mad whenever he sees a ball!” He laughed and said, “It’s okay”. “Yeah… but you might wanna keep that dog under control”, one of the other boys said. She sighed and mumbled, “He’s trained”. “Yeah! But it just ruined our game!” Elliot stood up as soon as Y/N held onto her dogs leash again. “Back off, alright! It’s just a game! Come on… I’ll take you home Y/N”.

While walking to her house, Y/N said, “I really am sorry about this one”. “It’s alright… don’t about it. Has he always been like that?”, Elliot asked. “Yeah, ever since he was a puppy. If he saw a ball, he would go straight for it! We tried to train him out of it… but nothing seemed to work”, she told him. He chuckled and then looked away before holding her hand just when they arrived at her house. “Th-This is me”.

He nodded and looked at her, before letting go of her hand. “Well… I’ll see you at school then”. “See you at school then”. She watched as he walked away, making her pout. “Hey! Y/N!” She looked back at him and he ran back before gently taking her face into his hands. Then he kissed her, causing her eyes to widen in shock. But then she closed her, kissing him back. He pulled away and asked, “You wanna go out?” “Sure… I’d love to”.

That Sunday, he waited for her at the park and found her wearing a sundress. “H-Hi…!” He stood up and smiled. “Hi. You look… beautiful”. She giggled and he held her hand before kissing her head. “Alright lovely, where do you wanna go?” She giggled nervously and said, “Nowhere really… I just want to get to know you a little better”. He nodded and smiled before saying, “Well, my name is Elliot and—!” “Don’t start from the very beginning!”, she told him, making him laugh.

Present Day…

“And that’s how Mum and Dad met and fell in love~!”, Cherry said happily to her children, Peach, Apricot and Clementine. Her girls were both fascinated, while her son just gagged. “Mum! That’s gross!”, he complained. “No it’s not! It’s romantic!”, she said happily. Lemon, who just so happened to be in the room, sighed and said, “I agree with Apricot. And I was there. You two were so sweet, it almost made me vomit”. Tangerine then hit him over the head.

“At least she didn’t go any further—!”

“No one needs to hear about your wedding or honeymoon! That’s just straight up nasty!”

END

[sofoulandfairaday]

What do you think about Bella’s relationship with Narcissa/how it changed after her return from Azkaban?

I am so sorry, anon, I completely forgot about this post. I had started answering, then saved it in my drafts and only found it today (months later) when I opened them. Forgive me.

Great question!

I used to love Narcissa as a character but lately, I've started disliking her a little. I think most of the fandom sees her (wrongly) as a victim, even of Bellatrix, when actually the most Bella does to her is be a little rude to her husband and son. The worst Narcissa does to Bellatrix is indirectly causing her death. One of my worst pet peeves is when people write her as cruel to Narcissa in fanfictions when, in canon, it's almost always the opposite.

In the series they only have two interactions: in the first one, she goes behind Voldemort's back (!!!), accompanying her to Spinner's End to protect her (from herself, possibly Voldemort and even Snape), and Narcissa physically attacks her. In the second, she thinks that the Cup has been stolen (which will promptly cause Voldemort to kill all of them if he comes) which makes for a snappy exchange. And still, she doesn't curse Lucius' head off when he puts his hands on her.

Based on these interactions and the fact that they are respectively the eldest and the youngest sibling, I think Bella was always very protective of Narcissa. I always headcanon Bella as closest to Andromeda growing up (thirty years later, she still calls her sister) but Bellatrix's defining trait, contrary to popular belief, is - just like Cissy - her loyalty to her family. It's as much a part of her character as her love/obsession with Voldemort. It's tragic that Narcissa doesn't extend the same devotion to her. Draco and Lucius are very much her priorities while Bella loves her above everyone else but Voldemort. Andy's betrayal probably brought them close together.

I can see them being close during the First War, or at least trying to be, while everything pulls them apart - most of all, themselves and their personal aspirations: Cissy marries Lucius and gives him a son, Bella becomes a terrorist (and while my hc is that she likes Rodolphus and has a good relationship with him, nothing supports that in the text; maybe they fucking hate each other, or are indifferent to each other and Bella outright refuses to give him a child; after a certain while, the sisters had little in common). One can come up with a hundred different headcanons for this period, but I have noticed that a tendency with new mothers is to surround themselves with other new mothers. Bella probably didn't fit in with this crowd, maybe was even hurt and jealous that she was now quite far down her sister's priority list.

After Azkaban? Narcissa doesn't look very happy to have her traumatized sister, fresh from a horror-filled, decade-and-a-half-long reclusion in her home. (Bella was probably hurt by this.) Bellatrix, on the other hand, is very contemptuous of Lucius and doesn't respect his authority at all, especially after the DoM fiasco. From the way Narcissa admonishes her in Spinner's end (“Don’t you dare — don’t you dare blame my husband!” said Narcissa, in a low and deadly voice, looking up at her sister.) we can infer that this was probably a common disagreement between the two.

I don't think Narcissa liked Bellatrix at all, after Azkaban. If I want to believe the best of her, I think she felt guilty for wishing she had stayed locked up. After fifteen years, I think Narcissa had already mourned her, she was as good as dead to her. Seeing this new, unstable version of Bella probably made her feel things she didn't want to feel: guilt, shame, love, and everything in between. The peculiar mix of profound love but also dislike you can only feel for a sibling.

As I have said before, the Black Sisters likely loved each other, viscerally, but didn't really understand each other, or each other's life choices. And both Narcissa and Andromeda strike me as very selfish people.

Not to continuously quote Succession, but when Shiv tells Kendall: I love you, but I cannot fucking stomach you? Yeah. That.

[plaindonutsworld]

Lost track of Time

Modern!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A/N: Am I? Of all people... POSTING?! Yes. I am. Don't get your hopes up though I won't write fics 24/7. But I am here writing a Eddie Munson oneee. I've taken I huge break and I may write fics every now and then but idk.

Warnings/Triggers: Reader is on her period, fluff, Eddie forgets about Reader, little kissies, not proof read, and it deserves a warning so my terrible writing.

Summary: Eddie is playing video games and looses track of time to find Reader by herself.

••••••••••••••♪••••••••••••••

"Eddieeee!" You were laying on the couch and called out his name. Bored out of your mind, and to no surprise you received no answer from him. "Edward!" Nothing.

You knew what he was doing, playing video games and it never really bothered you but you were on your period. And for some reason everything was just making you emotional and just to make matters worse the cramps were rolling in.

You rolled off the couch and walked to his little game room, you walked in and seen him with his headphones on and completely focused on his game. He was sitting in his chair with some flannel sweats and no shirt. His hair was wild and going every which way.

You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug. Eddie looked up and smiled giving you a sweet kiss then returning to his game.

"Baby.."

"Yes Sweetheart?"

"Do you think we could cuddle in bed? My cramps are getting kinda bad and I just want someone to hold me." You whispered out and looked down.

He looked at you and smiled. "Give me..." He checked his phone for the time. "30 minutes and I'll be right in there, 'kay bug?"

You nodded your head and walked to the kitchen. Where the popcorn was sitting in a box and you decided to pop some. After eating it you made your way to the bedroom and waited for Eddie to come in there. Meanwhile Eddie was getting caught up in his game, where he would loose track of time.

After what felt like 10 minutes he checked his phone and it had actually been two hours. He left like shit for just leaving you. He figured you probably sat in the bed waiting for him and he never did. How he basically ditched you and you'd probably break up with him because if he couldn't do the simplest things he couldn't do the big ones. But it was quite the opposite, you had laid in bed and waited for him, yes.

He excused himself for the game and powered down his console. Where Eddie then raced to the bedroom and went in to see you asleep, cuddled into a ball. If his heart could, it would have dropped to his feet and 6 feet under. He felt horrible for forgetting about you. So the metal head crawled into the bed and snaked his arms around your waist and held you close.

When he took this action you woke up slowly and looked at him. "Hey Eddie..." You stared at him with soft eyes and a pretty smile. He looked back with a sad and sorry expression.

"I'm sorry I forgot about you. I'm so sorry please baby I'm sorry. You needed me and I threw you away like you were a old banana peel." He apologized over and over and you cupped his face and he stopped ranting on about how you were too good for him and whatever else he had to say.

"Stop it. You lost track of time, it's not like you killed my puppy or anything. It's perfectly fine and it's not a big deal." You said smiling and giving him a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose.

Eddie held you closer and threw his leg over your lower part of your body and buried his face in your chest. "But it is a big deal sweets."

You and him laid there the rest of the day, well until dinner. But after dinner you cuddled on the couch and watched movies. Needless to say he never lost track of the time when it came to you again.

••••••••••••♪••••••••••••

I'm okay with how it turned out ig. But I could have made it better but then again this only took 20 minutes to write and I'm on mobile rn. So I hope you enjoy and remember it wasn't proof read so I'm sure there's a mistake somewhere. And maybe if I feel like it I may write more often but I still dunno.

[veliseraptor]

HI just wanted to comment on something i see frequently in your writing! A recurring motif ive noticed you like to use is like... xue yang waiting for something to hurt- expecting pain (usually physical) and either enduring it when it happens or being surprised when it doesnt. And i think that is just so chef kiss- i think xue yang as a character is on some level always waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for things to start hurting, ready to cut and run or lash out when they do, and i think that recurring motif of yours is just Extremely him and its always stuck with me when i reread your work. 10/10 thank u for giving me xue yang brain worms

you're welcome for the xue yang brain worms, just sharing my own when I don't have any more room for them in my own head. it's how I cope

anyway though I love when people like...specifically mention recurring Motifs they notice me playing with with a character, because I both worry that it's too obvious and also unclear at all times. but yeah!! this is definitely one of those where...I've talked before about how I think Xue Yang is very used to existing in a constantly precarious state.

Nothing is certain, nothing is stable, and his expectations of the people around him are in the basement. He pretty much lives by the expectation that he can't trust anybody else to look out for him except for him, and when they do it's always contingent and going to end eventually. I don't think Xue Yang was surprised to get kicked out of Jinlintai, however it happened; there was always an expiration date on that arrangement, from his perspective, and it was just going to be a matter of how and when it happened, and how well he could land when it did. He is very much always waiting for the other shoe to drop, because it's just a matter of time and he has to be ready when it happens.

(He wasn't ready when he was a kid, he didn't see it coming, but he's never making that mistake again. He will, in fact, bite first if it looks like there's something anywhere nearby that might possibly hurt him. Caught off guard once, death on the entire Chang Clan, caught off guard twice, that's just embarrassing.)

I also think a lot about how Xue Yang simultaneously spends all the time in anticipation of his own imminent death and carries himself with a certain attitude of invincibility and total indifference toward consequences. Bad shit's going to happen and eventually it will kill him but in the meantime he's going to live life like it won't.

Basically: pain and suffering is not just a fact of life but the rule; anything else is the exception.

And this is what kills me about two specific moments in the Yi City arc. The first is the one where Song Lan first calls Xue Yang's name, and the second is during the argument with Xiao Xingchen where Xue Yang tips from trying to get Xiao Xingchen to understand to on the attack. They're moments where I think it shows how much Xue Yang did relax during that period of time, and how much he at least...stopped being quite so ready for the flip side, and that's part of why it hits so hard when it does arrive, and part of why he goes after Xiao Xingchen as viciously as he does.

(Like I said, caught off guard twice...stupid, stupid mistake, and look what happened. Nobody's supposed to be able to hurt Xue Yang anymore but somehow Xiao Xingchen is doing it, and he should have known this was coming, when did he forget to watch for it?)

There's something too, though maybe this is also me reading forward in the MXTX extended universe, that looks at the way Xue Yang treats Xiao Xingchen in particular and wonders if he is, at least in some way, testing his hypothesis. I definitely think the way he goes after Xiao Xingchen isn't just about personal revenge; the way it's tailored is very specifically making a point about how Xue Yang's worldview is right and Xiao Xingchen's is wrong. Xiao Xingchen thinks he can alleviate suffering and make the world better; Xue Yang is here saying that there's no such thing.

anyway see related texts: xue yang's relationship with his body, xue yang, candy, and the mug metaphor