#so chihuahua coded

[fbfh]

just reread your rodrick x hyperfem reader AND IT HAS ME BACK INTO THE GOOD OLD CHOKEHOLD

so if you do still write for him (ignore if you dont <3) maybe some headcanons of them after the prom? 😋

(devon bostick is so FINE)

oh FUCK yes babes. lemme tell you something about roddy and hyperfemme reader. almost immediately after your song finishes and you lock lips in a kiss that rocks both your worlds and blows your minds, it's over for you. you're joint at the hip and locked at the lip every moment after that. both of your friend groups are pissed because whenever they're looking for you you're either sitting on Roddy's lap doing his eyeliner (and putting a little glittery highlighter here and there) or making out in the back of his van. you are completely a package deal, if someone wants one of you they are GOING to get both of you. after the last time roddy insisted on you sleeping in his room or threatening to run away and elope in vegas, Susan decided you know what? this could actually be a lot worse! at least most of Rodrick's energy (or lackthereof, please get this boy some antidepressants) is directed at you instead of harrassing his brother all the time. he still harasses Greg, but that's more of that brother stuff Susan doesn't know about. and that's how you in all your sparkly pink "what like it's hard?" lip glossed glory end up at the heffley's house more often than the actual heffleys.

[pendwelling]

Lord Juliette's guard dogs!! 🌷

[loremaster]

the Nice Dog Agency

[spookystrangerpersona]

what's the word... what's the happs... what's your.... MAJOR HEUEHEHEHE 🤓☝️

Why is he like this. Why is it that every article about him is so mild and makes him seem like a disney princess. He was not like that. Maybe he was.

Rare pic of him smiling. Literally going xD at br*zhnev.

[just-a-lil-critter]

🚨🚨 MINOR SPOILER CONTENT🚨🚨

In celebration of our blasty drama queen being alive and slaying,

I present to thee, Bakugo Katsuki ✨

ik I said Izuku was babygirl because lookathim but Katsuki is straight up original malewife material, I mean this boy had Mitsuki Bakugo for a mother for fucks sake

He grew up in a household where mothers meant pride and strength and fathers meant peace and comfort he is hands down tiddies out peak malewife and that's on canon ain't nobody telling me otherwise

[fellamorte]

Ira Lavellan screencaps that make you say "What Is Wrong With Him ❤️"

[mandalhoerian]

KA'TRACYN VIZSLA in STAR WARS

The ever-reclusive sovereign of Concordia, Lady Ka'tracyn Vizsla maintains a leisurely lifestyle in the confines of her laboratory of a mansion and doesn't bother herself with anything politics-related, leaving all of those duties to her uncle Pre Vizsla instead. Nowadays, her PhD. in planetary ecology is being put to use in her private gardens and greenhouse, with her droid-only staff as the witnesses. That routine is interrupted when her ex-sponsor in the Republic Futures Program, Senator Padmé Amidala, commissions her to join the debates against Military Creation Act as an expert planetologist.

[x]

[feydstan]

Me bc my prof agreed to my BA suggestion aka I'll do it on the Bene Gesserit in Dune

[blistering-typhoons]

raining outside, food needs to be restocked, vacation coming to an end and i still can't write, so i do FEEL like i'm going to be ripping apart couch cushions with my teeth :333

[thatcheeseycandle]

Twirls hair heyy you lot

Ive brought another random tiktok screenshot-

Anyways have a good day you all :]

(Im still in denial)

[erabundus]

not  to  be  kazuren  on  main,  but  ren's  kazuha  bias  absolutely  sends  me.

[officialplaid]

.

[readingandscreaming]

Just learned Kant was a whopping 159 cm tall. That's a lot of yapping for a small guy.

[lesbiangiratina]

It drives me so crazy that the source for this quote is just some message board post from 2002 claiming that daisuke said this in a newsletter. I dont think said newsletter has been unearthed. Thats soooo crazy dubious but like. I saw someone casually describe testament with the same phrasing, 両性具有, in a doujinshi released in october 2001, 4 months before that message board post. It seems like it was a Very widely accepted thing that testament was “both sexes” (this feels like the best phrasing for the context.) in the japanese fandom up until strive, like even just as a casually accepted thing, not just in. Niche porn. Like it was kind of everywhere. Its reflected in official media too, in the asura system tcg (early 2000s) their full art cards have a question mark instead of a gender/sex symbol like other characters. In the arcsys 25th anniversary art book theyre on the popularity polls for both male and female characters. They got more votes in the girl poll? Also like every time daisuke talked about them he had something to say about their androgyny and femininity. And well. Theyre just textually agender now. Riku ozawa described them as 無性, saying they were originally portrayed as bigender, 両性. Very similar phrasing to the alleged daisuke newsletter quote but can be more tied to gender than sex from what i understand. It all comes back to that fucking newsletter that hasnt been proven to exist. Is it REAL? I DONT KNOW. Its so widespread but ive never seen it. Is it LOST? Did someone have a gender prophecy while telling lies on the internet?? I DONT KNOW!!!

I mean it when i say i hyperfixate on testament’s gender sometimes. Its not a bit

[sugarcherris]

Narancia who looks up to reader headcanons

Brotherly & Older sister bond

Aka: chaotic sibling energy, platonic, wholesome, domestic, fluff, a bit of angst, and Mista being Mista mentions his own dick

(Reader is a chainsmoker... don't smoke kids)

Narancia “borrows” (Reader)’s eyeliner

(Reader) has the perfect winged liner, sharp enough to cut someone. Narancia starts trying to copy it. He sucks at it at first and pokes himself in the eye. She doesn’t help him right away,just watches with that smug little grin.

When he finally nails it, (Reader) gives him a smug, approving head pat.

“There you go. Didn’t even stab yourself in the eye with my eyeliner this time.”

He flips her off but preens the rest of the day.

Team reactions:

Fugo: “You two are unhinged.”

Mista: “I’m stealing this look too. Pass the mirror.”

Abbacchio: Glares in disgust but looks just a second too long at the wing.

(Reader) calls him “ragazzino” (little boy) when shes feeling playful or condescending

It infuriates him.

“I’m not a kid, dammit!”

“Then stop kicking the back of the van seat or I will tie your knees with your bandana!”

He still lets her ruffle his hair right after that.

They have stupid secret handshakes

Not one. Multiple.

They change it every month and forget half of it mid-handshake and just turn it into a slap fight.

Somehow it always ends with (Reader) flicking Narancia in the forehead.

They make “mixtapes” for each other

Narancia starts writing her tracklists of songs he thinks she’d like—rock, metal, dramatic anime OPs he won’t admit he loves.

(Reader) writes hers on torn napkins in lipstick: metalcore breakdowns, and “old people music,” according to Narancia.

Bonus

Fugo: (Secretly steals one of (Reader)’s playlists. Pretends he didn’t.)

Narancia hides behind her when Bucciarati’s mad

Classic younger sibling move. Bucciarati raised his voice, and Narancia ducks behind (Reader)

(Reader) just raises an eyebrow, does not protect him, and says,

“Don’t drag me into this. He’s mad at you, not me.”

Narancia stares in betrayal

Bonus:

Later she sneaks him a sweet from her pocket when Bucciarati isn’t looking.

They graffiti stuff together

They tag alley walls with little stylized versions of each other’s names or dumb phrases like “(stand name) was here (so was Aerosmith)”.

(Reader)’s handwriting is elegant and sharp. Narancia’s is chaotic. Together it looks unhinged.

Team reactions

Bucciarati: “You tagged our safehouse?”

Narancia: “It’s ART.”

(Reader): “It’s coded. They won’t know what it means.”

Fugo: “You used your stand names! They’ll know exactly what it means!”

Abbacchio: “I hate you all.”

They try to cook together once. Just once.

The kitchen never recovers. Powdered sugar on the ceiling. A knife embedded in the floor. Fire extinguisher was used. Twice.

Bucciarati puts them on kitchen probation. (Reader) sneaks in anyway. Narancia just watches for lookout and giggles.

Narancia “guards” her cigarettes

She left her pack behind one time and he grabs it, dramatically guarding it like a chihuahua.

“If you want them, you have to answer three riddles.”

“Narancia, I will kick your ass.”

She gets them back by pulling his bandana down over his eyes and just taking them.

He once tried to steal a cigarette from her. Never again.

(Reader) had left a half smoked cigarette on the ashtray, and Narancia, wanting to be cool, took a quick drag.

Immediate, violent coughing fit. Red watery eyes. Almost fell off the chair.

(Reader) didn’t even look up. Just chuckled

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

The whole team laughed except for Bucciarati, who just sighed.

Bonus:

Narancia still tries to act like he smokes sometimes, resting an unlit cigarette between his fingers like she does with her lit one. He gets so mad when she calls him out on it.

Narancia falls asleep next to her during long car rides.

She lets it happen. Doesn’t shove him off.

He sleeps with his head leaning against the window at first, but eventually, when he gets really exhausted, his head tips onto her shoulder.

The first time, she smirks and mutters, “Comfortable?”

The fifth time, she just sighed and quietly adjusts her jacket so it drapes over him a little. Doesn’t say a word.

Team reactions:

Bucciarati: Says nothing but notice with a warm smile.

Mista:Giggling, thinking it’s cute but will draw on narancia face and (Reader) lets him.

Fugo: Mild disgust. “You’re drooling on her.”

Abbacchio: “Wake him up by pushing him out of the car. Do it. For me.”

(Reader) hates it when Narancia pulls reckless stunts.

Few times, he jumped into a fight headfirst before backup arrived.

He came out fine, but (Reader) was furious. She never yells at him except that time. After much built up frustrations because of his mistakes and words entering his ear out the other.

“Do you wanna die? Huh? That’s your goal?”

He snapped back at her “What the hell are you my mom?shut the hell up bitch!”

Silence. Tension. He stormed off, but later that night, she threw a bag of sweets at his head.

They never talked about it, but the next mission, she covered him a little closer.

if (Reader) has tattoos? Narancia wants to get a tattoo because she has them.

“What if I get something cool? Like a knife? Or a skull? Or or or A PLANE!”

(Reader), blowing out smoke “You’d cry.”

“No, I wouldn’t!”

He drags her to a parlor once. The moment the needle comes close, he flinches hard.

“I’m not ready yet,” he mutters. She crosses her arm looking amused and pays the guy off.

If (Reader) has piercings? Narancia tries to copy her piercings

• He gets a second ear piercing by stapling his ears (Staplers were stolen from Bucciarati office) just because he saw hers glinting in the sun one day. She just chuckled at his stupidity whilst treating the infection.

• "Thought it looked cool on you... So..."

•She just hums, but she's clearly smiling. She took him to the piercer parlor the next day.

Team reactions:

Mista: "Sickkkk, should | get a dick piercing?"

Fugo: "You're all stupid."

Bucciarati: Groaning mentally. Locking his office next time.

Abbacchio: "Jesus Christ."

Giorno: (Standing on the side ready to give him a new ear)

"If you died I'd go feral.”

•(Reader) stares at him with an unreadable expression" Good."

• It's said like a joke, but the silence after it hangs a little longer than it should.

“If I go first, you better not cry, ragazzino.”

Mafia life is dangerous. They joke about it sometimes.

Narancia, scoffing: “You’re not gonna die before me.You’re much stronger and smarter than me!If anything it’ll be me.”

(Reader), tilting her head: “Mmm. You sure?”

He hates that answer. He doesn’t know why, but it sticks with him longer than it should.

When she’s out late, Narancia worries.

He’s not obvious about it, but if she’s gone longer than expected, he starts getting antsy.

Checks his watch. Paces. Cold hands.

If she comes back with blood on her glove, he doesn’t ask questions, just mutters, “You good?”

She grins, “Why? Miss me?”

He huffs, “Pfft No, just making sure you didn’t get your dumb ass killed.”

They both know he was actually worried.

This is my first time writing a fanfic/headcanon! Phewwww hope you guys enjoyed this!! Maybe I’ll write narancia and (reader) first meeting and how they bond grew to be 🫡

[gladiatorcunt]

- # ROMANS 8:7 !!

“because the mind of the flesh is hostile to god: it does not submit to god’s law, nor can it do so.”

cw: implied plus size & southern afab!reader, xmen 1 coded logan but also different, large age gap (reader early 20’s, logan…. not), implied mental health & abandoment issues, drug & alchohol mentions, consensual somno (not discussed but logan’d be down with whatever you wanted), dad/father figure bf behavior and talk (kiddo, controlling your sleep schedule, heavy daddy kink & calling him your old man, calls fucking you “feeding you” etc.), heavy werewolf/animals in general allusions & imagery (?), reader is lowkey unhinged, reader doing some solo a/b/o roleplay lol, kind of self objectification/degradation vibes due to underlying trauma, gentle dead dove like if the dove perched on a bitter old man’s dirt covered shoulder and wouldn’t leave, more of a moment in time

1k event. / please consider commissioning me!

Stubble against your lips is a damn fine way to wake up in the morning, you think with a dazed smile. The scent of the beard shampoo you have Logan use smells better than a whole poppy field ever could. There are lingering traces of cigar smoke hovering over his slightly chapped lips, but not as heavy anymore, he’s trying to quit relying on them so much. A gruff sentiment about wanting to make sure he has a better chance of sticking around to keep an eye on you, or something like that.

You were falling asleep on his sweaty abs when he said it like he was getting his teeth pulled out, but there’s merit in the fact that he could’ve cut himself off. It’s important to him to try to be better at verbalizing the feeling burning in his battered gut like a glass of whiskey on the rocks. You’d take him with open arms and open legs even if he was a worse man than the devil.

You reach down and lift his hefty hands to your still swollen lips and kiss his knuckles like you’re trying to suck his claws out of his skin and into your mouth. A painless operation, you’re used to the feeling of blades against your skin, housing them in your stomach would mean nothing if it meant you could take some of the hurt away from him. It feels like that’s your job sometimes, to jump through as many hoops as possible so that you bear the brunt of the weight Logan’s forced to deal with on a daily basis.

He stops that train of thought in its tracks when you express it, what kind of dad would he be if he let you get even a single scratch? Maybe there’s to be said for a rough and tough kind of guy getting to nurse a kitten back to health, to keep it tucked away in the crook of their muscular arm never to see the light of day without them.

You don’t offer to keep his claws sheathed safely in your pussy either, you’d lick your own blood off the ends when they eventually push through your mouth. A cock sleeve in a different outfit, daddy’s little helper. But then you see the way Logan’s face belies a sense of peace, his forehead wrinkles and the fine lines around his mouth aren’t nearly so pronounced because this is the rare moment in which he finds no reason to scowl. You know you’re worth more than a nyquil infused pussy to him, but this is where you find your use. This is how you feel content, gummy walls suckling on his fat tip because even when you’ve put your old man to bed you can’t get enough.

Logan thinks he’s just so awful, the big bad wolf slobbering on an innocent lamb’s cherry pie-sweet cunt, but you might be worse. You’d your feet and throw a fit if his nose even twitched catching the scent of someone else, you’d do far worse things than what he’s already done to keep this toe curlingly grumpy man snoring a crater into your silk pillows. You feel like a rabid chihuahua nipping at his heels to keep him inside and with you, where it’s warm and wet and there’s no death other than the little ones you experience over and over like a perverted groundhog day. He’s the only one you trust with you doing you prone bone, having faith that he’ll shield you from all the things in the world that aren’t Daddy and the cozy sticky life he provides for you.

Calloused fingers strangling your tits in the morning, your ass bent over his lap in the evening while he sits back in his recliner and soothes the sting. You’d been sick to your stomach before you met him, wandering up and down the road in New York because you insisted you could make this big move and do it all on your own. Then his denim blue pick up rumbled its way down the broken road and you’ve never looked back since.

Your heart was beating faster than a hummingbird when he rolled his eyes and pushed the passenger side door open with one hand, like you were lucky he didn’t drive off and leave you in the dirt. You had the stray thought of offering him a blow job or a tit fuck to make it worth his while, but he was squirming around to tug off his brown leather jacket and toss it at you before you could move a muscle.

Poor little kitty, last one in the box all alone in the cold. Someone wanted you though, and over time your hisses and scratches turned to cat-that-got-the-cream-AND-the-canary wails and voracious frisking.

He ‘tsks’ and bites his cheek on the days where the guilt creeps in, and you know he just can't accept that this is what you want. That you saw his maw open wide and dripping with blood-cum-tissue-bone-spittle and hopped right on the center of his dusty rose pink tongue like a good bunny.

In your daydreams the appendage is so long he can choke you with the tip of it, wrap it around you and get his unique slime and grime absorbed into the hollow of your throat. You wish he had a knot too, so he could plug you up and you’d have no choice but to take it and be so grateful that Daddy thought you were worthy of being bred and speared and kept.

God, you’d never wanted to have somebody’s baby so much. But you’re selfish too, so you don’t mind this time spent together, just the two of you. That’s a blessing in and of itself and you’ve learned not to question the rare good things in life that you’re allowed to have. The powers that be decided he’s yours and you’re his and you’ll tie your leash to his hand if that ensures he can never change his mind about taking a chance on you. If he can’t run like you tried to do when you realized he might actually love you back, that he wasn’t content to just be a dirty fantasy you had when you were alone on your trailer bed. That for the first time in your life, what you need needs you too, or wants to entertain you at the very least.

You don’t want to run anymore, and all of the credit goes to Logan recognizing that you were just a stray cat who needed someone that wouldn’t let them dart out the door at the first sign of discomfort. He forced you to be known so you could be loved and there’s no going back to a life without that, not for you. Not without being to hold Daddy’s hand when that same feeling of flight or flight knocks on your skull. Maybe you’re spiraling again because you feel empty, you said no to cockwarming the previous night because you didn’t want to be too needy. You think your pussy might’ve bitten his dick off to keep inside of it like a trophy if you followed your usual routine.

Now you’re realizing why you hardly ever say no to giving your pussy time to breathe. How can you feel whole if Daddy’s not sighing in relief when he slides home for the first time again? You remember that you're your own person like this and you hate it, you don’t belong to you, you belong to him.

So you bite your lip and slowly bring yourself up to straddle his torso, humping his abs for a second before reaching behind you and lining up your aching cunt with his already half hard prick. You get overwhelmed already, so excited and antsy and ready to greet Daddy at the door that you bounce without actually bringing your plush hips all the way down.

‘Want that knot, want it want it want it want it, fuck fuck FUCK!’

You cry when the bulbous and thick fucking tip eases into you followed by the rest of him, you can’t help it. You missed him so much, and you’re not only thinking about Logan when you say that. Trust Daddy to actually have a horse’s cock most men overcompensate for not having, long and girthy and an angry purplish-red and surrounded by a black bush and more than deserving of never being left alone for a single second.

He woke up as soon as you started grinding against him in your sleep, but he knows you’d get embarrassed if he let it slip now. Logan could open his brown eyes and say ‘I told you so, kiddo’ but he can do that after his hardening cock pushes into your cervix. A welcome home kiss for his fussy little thing, he doesn’t feel right until he cracks his eyelids halfway and peeks through to see your own roll back in otherworldly rapture.

“That’s it, right where it belongs, ain’t it doll?”

Yes, yes it is.

“Fuckin’ cum on it and then get y’r ass back to bed, y’r gonna get cranky if you stay up any later. Gotta keep you fed, get some cock in that belly, keep you fat.”

- 2024, do not copy/translate/train ai with my work