#thank you for being my friendo

[softsnzstuff]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KING JULIEN, WE LOVE YOU KING JULIEN!!

*A birthday ficlet for the bestie @dontfeeltoohot based on our insta RP group chats lately*

It started - and ended - with Eddie. A few weeks ago he’d gotten knocked on his ass with some bug, leaving him with a fever and too tired to even play video games.

It very quickly spread to Nancy, Robin, and finally Steve. Just when they’d thought they were past the worst, Eddie caught it again off of Steve.

“Eddie let me take your temperature!” Steve called out.

“No!” He had locked himself in the bathroom with their cat, Nox.

Eddie occasionally brought pillows into the bathtub to hide out when he was in a bad mood, or in this case, not feeling well.

“H’eKSHh’EW! Hih- iKSHhuh! HesshIEW!”

This time around, the bug had manifested as the worst headcold Eddie had ever had.

“Eddie come on, you’ve been sneezing like that all day!”

Eddie snuffled against his wrist from behind the door, “I k’dow that!”

He picked up his phone and texted the group chat.

E: Send help! Steve won’t leave me alone 😩

S: I’m trying to take his temperature. He locked himself in the bathroom with Nox

E: Someone come hang out with me in the bathtub please?

R: What’s in it for me?

E: Gummy worms and Nox cuddles

R: …. Okay be there in ten

***

Steve opened the door to their apartment to let Robin and Nancy in. Nancy went to sit with Steve on the sofa while Robin went straight to their pantry for the sour gummy worms.

Eddie unlocked the bathroom door for her. He stepped back into the tub, holding out a hand to help her in as well.

Fully clothed, they sat sideways, feet dangling out the side with pillows behind and under them. Eddie had even brought a blanket.

Nox mewed and head butted Robin’s arm as she opened the gummy worms.

“Hey girlie, want some worms too?”

Eddie put his arm around Robin as she pet Nox.

“Thanks for coming Birdie. Steves been snFF fussing over me all day. Needed a bhhh break…”

He turned to the side, bringing an arm up to his face.

“Eh’SHhiew! kssshEW! H’aSSH’ew!!”

“Bless you.” Robin patted his knee, “Steve means well. Just wants to help because he cares.”

“I k’dow… I’m just n’dot used to- H’aeKSHh’ew!” He groaned and leaned a head on Robin’s shoulder, sniffling soupily.

There was a knock on the door.

“Eddie? Can I come in please?”

Robin turned, grinning at the predictability of Steve, but Eddie was preoccupied with his nose.

“eh’TSHhh! Hih-eKSHh’iew! Kt’chEW!”

Robin shook her head. “It’s open Steve!”

The brunette poked his head in, eyes directly going to the fort made out of their bathtub. Nox ran out the door as soon as she got the chance, making room for Steve to come in.

“Eddie. You sound awful. Please let me take care of you. You can come join me and Nance on the couch.”

“Fine.” Eddie held out a hand for Steve to help him out of the bathtub.

Robin clambered out behind him, grabbing some of the pillows and gummy worms to come with them. Nancy was sitting in the middle of the couch. Robin and Steve sat on either side of her and Eddie lay across all of their laps, feet by Steve and head by Robin. She fiddled with his hair until he fell asleep.

“Finally, oh my god!” Steve sighed with relief, “I just wanted him to rest. You guys might be stuck here for a couple hours though.”

The girls laughed. “Couldn’t imagine a better way to spend our time.”

[saints-who-never-existed]

what is (or are) your favorite terror ship(s)?

(pairings not the sailing vessels, tho if you have opinions on those i’d also be happy to hear them lol)

Ooh fun! :)

Slightly niche perhaps but one of my enduring favourites is actually Gore/Little.

I just really love the idea of Golden-Boy Man-of-Action Gore discovering that he rather likes being bossed around/dominated/treated like the pretty little princess he is.

And I'm equally enamoured with the notion of sweet Nedward finding that he enjoys getting to be powerful/assertive/just a bit of a sadistic wee bastard for once. ;)

[universestreasures]

Snareshipping: Pick-up Lines. (Feat: @devildukem )

A Rarity's Birthday Day Festival 2024 🎁 (For Tes, AKA @ofhardknoxxx ) ONLY THE TAGGED BLOGS MAY REBLOG!!!

[dragon-queen21]

regressor + caregiver headcanons for fireheart (regressor) + yellowfang (cg) :D!!

Caregiver Yellow fang + Regressor Fireheart headcanons

~Fireheart is such regressor material. He never grew up in the forest so getting the chance to have some kitten hood memories as if he did and who better to watch over him than Yellowfang. The old she-cat probably know what was happening with Fireheart long before he actually figured it out. Being a medicine cat makes you know a few things.

~ “I don’t have the time to be looking after a kitten and healing a clan.” slowly turns into Yellowfang making the time in order to watch over Fireheart. So what if she needed a break and Fireheart just happened to be small? It would be irresponsible to leave to his own devices. That’s all.

~Would actually be pretty good for Yellow fang to start bonding more with Fireheart, thought to be long forgotten maternal instincts rearing up the longer she has to take care of the regressed kit.

~ Fireheart just asking so many questions. “What’s dis?” “Why’s dis leaf dis color?” “What does dis do?” He’s a curious furball who wants to understand everything and anything right this second.

~He would be getting into mischief at every possible chance. Trying to make up for lost time he supposes, which 9 times out of 10 gets him in trouble with Yellowfang.

~Yellowfang might not have the strength to scruff him like an actual kit, but don’t put it past her to try whenever the regressed Warrior is getting too far out of line.

(Unless the she-cat is feeling a particular grudge against a clanmate then she just lets Fireheart run wild, some other cat’s responsibility now.)

~Yellowfang has had to do a lot of explaining to other clan cats as to why Fireheart was acting strangely. In other words she told them all to mind their own damn business. If fireheart doesn’t want to tell then she’s not saying a word. Probably starts ordering around any cat who does start to ask too many questions to go fetch her herbs or change out beddings or any other chore needing to be done.

[epersonae]

Ask game! Ask game! I'd love to read your thoughts on 17, 31, & 56.

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

Sort of depends why? Sometimes I have to just admit that the spoons are just not available (which is what happened last night and is happening again tonight), brain and body have just done too much for right now. Leg Broke, is the right now, but I've had that before, too.

Sometimes I need to think out loud to someone, if what I'm stuck on is "what should happen?" in a story I'm working on. Rubber ducking is such a helpful term that's jumped over from programming; if I can talk through what's not working or what I want to happen and can't figure out, then I can either solve it myself, or one of my smart thoughtful friends will have an idea. (the number of times I've rambled on and then gotten "ok, pitch" from @emi--rose...)

I feel like "going for a walk" is sort of the solitary version of that, which is partially about physical activity being good for the brain and partially about thinking time; same with taking a shower.

Sometimes I just need the peer pressure and time pressure of sitting down for writing sprints. If you know pomodoro method, it's kind of similar; most of the discord servers I'm in have a sprint bot that will set a timer, keep track of word counts, do leaderboards, etc. When I have some idea but the executives are not quite lined up, sometimes it's simply a matter of putting the damn fingers on the keyboard. (This goes well with "freewriting", where if I'm sort of stuck I will just write whatever garbage until it kicks loose into the actual writing. Also recommended: yelling out loud MAKE BAD ART while writing words that are not quite there.)

And then, finally, like low spoons, acknowledging that sometimes it's just not happening, and giving grace to rebuild the creative energy. Do some other creative activity, read or watch something, edit someone else's work, etc etc etc. Trust that it'll come back given a little space.

31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

Yes? No? A secret third thing? Character, I think, mostly, because I feel like that drives the plot. What I actually start with, though, is almost always a snippet of narration or dialogue. I can have lots of ideas, but I need an entry point.

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

This is not a general thing about my writing, but it is possibly my greatest achievement as a writer to date, so I kinda have to: that I wrote 62k with a protagonist who never gets named (and in close third person TAKE THAT DAPHNE DU MAURIER) (I guess technically, oh god, almost 100k????? with the other two after that. jfc.)

[get to know your fic writer!]

[starfleetwitch]

Personal moan time cause its stupid o'clock and I've had 4 hours of sleep in the past 48 hours.

So... Turns out... Like David Tennants Doctor... I don't want to go 😅

[candycryptids]

/)_(\ I can’t sleep so I went on a short bender through the Haurchefant tag sorry about all the Beautiful Elf Man he’s just

Literally my favorite

Also I’m taking back the apology except for not writing nice things in all the tags I was really 😳 In It ™

[therequiemforthelost-archive]

Please tell me more about this pokemon au 👀 how did y'all meet? What are your jobs? What tropes do you fall into in this au?

WAAAAAAH THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!!

So Jeanne is a former gym challenger who had to cut her journey short to return home due to a family emergency. Now she works at her local library and also helps kids around town learn how to raise their pokemon! Albedo is a pokemon researcher who is never really in one spot for long since he does on-feild research! He's always out and about searching for new discoveries and trying to learn the truths of the world he lives in.

Jeanne and Albedo meet by chance when he's passing through Jeanne's town and he stops at the library to do so research on the local pokemon. Jeanne helps him find what he needs and even helps him read and take notes. From there they hit it off and become friends!

As for tropes, the follow a very classic friends to lovers slowburn. It mostly starts as Jeanne being the person Albedo calls when he needs some info but is in the middle of nowhere and can't really do it himself, to Jeanne eventually becoming Albedo's closest confidant. Jeanne eventually also becomes his assistant and travels with him, so you could also argue something along the lines of them VS the world. And no matter the universe, I like to think Albedo will always fall under belated love epiphany and have the "oh shit I'm in love" moment one day out of the blue because over the course of Albedo warming up and opening up to Jeanne, he doesn't realize that he fell in love.

I'm also toying around with the idea for Albedo going "oh yeah I'm also a gym leader/elite 4 member whoops"

[dvarapala]

Send me a ❤ and I will say something positive about you.

positivity meme // @ofvalor

king of writing, king of graphics, king of good taste in characters, books, music and hobby’s. what more do i need to say?

all jokes aside, though, you’re such a wonderful person and i am so glad that we became friends when we did. i can say, with confidence, that you were the one to inspire me, and encourage me, to dip my toes in other genres that i hadn’t tried out before and i really think it made me grow as a writer as well as a person. for that i thank you. i have done so before and i will do so again.

life has been a lot lately and we’ve both been super duper busy but i hope that we can catch up whenever things finally slow down on both our ends. i’m wishing you a lot of inspiration for the new year but above all, a lot of peace. a lot of happiness. you deserve it, you really, truly do.

here’s to many more ships and shenanigans in 2023 and beyond, my friend.

[musingsofmyown]

Just a suggestion but I think you should create a unique tag for the fics you post on here. Just so they're easier to find. My ideas for the tag include:

Musing's banger fics

Another Musing masterpiece

Cool as frick fic

Much love xx

Hallo bestie, tis currently midnight and I woke up for no dang reason so here we are 😅

I've been meaning to do this for a bit, and I have a masterlist of sorts in the making so I've been gathering urls to my fics so I can link/tag them

Idk what I should tag them as tho-

"Musings Masterpiece" does have an appeal (albeit a lil self-centered)

I'm wanting to make different tags for fics, prompts, and headcanons but like... coming up with them is so haaaarrddddd

You betcha I'll be brainstorming those sometime 😁 (probably tomorrow ngl)

Thank you for sending the ask friendo 💛

(side note: I've been thinking about finally doing a queue tag as umQra, but that's probably been used already lol)

[cryptidofthekeys]

4. Which cryptid being do you believe in?

13. When was the last time you ate? (Concerned Dad question) 

23. How do you feel about chilly weather?

<3

Honestly, for cryptid beings, I think it’d be pretty cool for something like that out there to exist, I mean sure terrifying too but it’d be really interesting if cryptids are real- I’d never wanna go hunting them and if I ever did see a cryptid well I wouldn’t tell anyone about it, I wouldn’t take pictures or videos, I’d simply appreciate them as they are, a being that is shrouded and should stay shrouded in mystery. I just see no point in trying to prove their real, hunting them down, etc- there’s no point to that for me, I’d just want to appreciate them for the being they are.

...Im not just saying that bc cryptid is in my name hjfdklgjfkdfsdl-

If I had to PICK like specific cryptids- I think I’d believe in three which are 1: Jersey Devil | 2: Mothman | and 3: Chupacabra

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

gfjgfkdlgd- I ate breakfast just a bit ago, took my medicine ...And I forgot to bring my water into my room but its fine, I’ll get it- I will go get the water fhgjkdjdfskal thank you for the concern but I promise, I’m fine- just gotta start remembering not to forget my water of a day lmao

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

I’ll be honest, I’m not a super big fan of chilly weather? Like, there’s only one thing I truly like when it gets cold, I can wear hoodies and that helps immensely with dysphoria related shit, I can wear stuff like that and just hide myself essentially- but, for like, there’s certain days in the fall where it is literally just the fucking PERFECT temperature, its not too hot but also not too cold, literally just right and those are the days I try to stay out as much as I can, love to feel the gentle breeze through my hair and just the genuine comfortable feeling I get during those times

[melodiclune]

You are so cool and so so smart. Deepdiver into interests and just so so so considerate and kind to people actually. Makes me smile every time I see a notif that you've posted something or reblogged something or just by seeing ur URL or your pfp in any context actually. It's got those serotonin mind associations now

Oh this is sweet, thank you so much!! This is in response to the random ask post right?? I wasn't expecting to be greeted with such wholesomeness, thank youuu <33

[beefrobeefcal]

the BEEF | #1: Joel Miller

Summary: no-outbreak AU, Joel has a headache and that headache wants his attention. [based on a prompt THOT up in collaboration with @strang3lov3]

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,833

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, angry fools who want to play hide the sausage, angry joel, shovel violence against a truck, monster cock, age gap (joel is in his 50's, reader is younger), p in the v (unwrapped), rough dresser sex,

Author's Notes: welcome to the BEEF. Each P-boy has a thorn in their side that has to be dealt with. Thank you to @covetyou for inspiring the idea, and thank you @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, @rebel-held & @bitchesuntitled for their brains and eyes.

and thank you to every friendo in the Bistro - it's all for you, babies.

Joel Miller was your street’s cranky asshole. No one dared throw a party or hold a garage sale without letting him know first. No one dared let their grass get over a certain length and the whole neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief when he would go out of a town and not see the kids scribble with chalk on the sidewalks in the summer. He never called the cops; no, instead he showed up and berated whoever was hosting an event or engaging in an activity he found offensive. And he was intimidating. He wasn’t the tallest, but he was built like a brick shithouse. You’d lived on the block for almost nine years, and in that time, Joel had gone from being a broad, sturdy single father to a single, empty nester who lived off HungryMan frozen meals. He was a big man with linebacker shoulders and a meaty chest stacked on top of a boulderous belly. His plaid button up shirts always looked like they were holding on for dear life to avoid his temper.

And you were utterly in love with him.

Before the most recent snowfall, you’d been in your room on your bed with the window open a crack to let in some fresh air. Right below your window was Joel’s front porch, and as soon as you heard his door fly open, you grabbed your vibrator and listened.

“Get off my lawn!”, you heard him bellow at who ever had dared to approach his house.

You smiled to yourself and turned on your purple silicon friend and shoved it in your underwear.

As Joel berated the hapless victim of his temper, you nudged yourself closer to the edge. As you did, you cared less about the volume of your cries and let your noises out at top volume. By the time you came, Joel was standing on his porch with his mouth agape, staring at your bedroom window and the offending party walked away with a look of disgust.

*****

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

You watched as your snow shovel slipped out of your hands and hit your Joel’s truck. The one with the vanity plate ‘SM 9000’ that you had no clue what it meant. You could only sit back and watch as it fell and gouged in the paint job on Joel’s 1989 Dodge Ram pickup, your panties grew damp as you heard his front door open and slam against his house.

You turned around, raising your hands, trying to look like you were de-escalating the situation. “Joel, I-“

“The fuck’re you think you’re doin’?!”, he bellowed, stomping towards you.

As he yelled and flew into a tantrum over your shovel’s sins, you couldn’t help the stupid, lovesick half grin blooming on your face.

“… and you ain’t got no respect for no one’s property and…”, he stopped, took a breath, and looked you over, face twisting in a confused rage as he tried to figure out why you were looking at him as if he were a can of tuna and you were a cat watching him being pulled open ever so gently.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”, he yelled, stepping forward, trying to scare you to no avail. He huffed and stomped his foot, trying to snap you out of whatever trance you were in.

You sighed and tilted your head, loving the attention he was finally bestowing on you, not caring that your reaction was essentially dumping gasoline on a house fire.

“Fuckin’ disrespectful shit…”, he snarled as he grabbed your arm and dragged you towards his house.

“Joel? What’re you doing? Where we going?”, you asked with a big dumb grin on your face then wincing at the harsh grip he had on your elbow. Your boots slipped and skidded on the icy walkway and you tripped heading up the stairs.

“Fuckin’ clumsy dumbass…”, he grumbled, shoving you through his front door and slamming it behind you both.

You looked around his entry way, noting the ugly wallpaper and the stale cigarette smell lingering. You crinkled your nose, and he turned around, his frown deepening into a scowl.

“Boots off!”, he barked, harshly motioning to your feet.

You didn’t miss a beat and toed them off quickly, kicking them into the wall. His jaw clenched as he watched the dirty snow clumps slide slowly down, leaving wet patches on his yellow-turned-brown floral wallpaper.

His eyes snapped up to yours, expecting an apologetic look. Instead, he was met with…

“Why the fuck you lookin’ at me like a love sick puppy?”

Joel was enraged. You didn’t run away or beg for forgiveness. No. You stood in his entry way, kicking your boots and making a mess, looking like he was David Cassidy or Patrick Swayze. You smiled back softly and that was the last straw for him.

“WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

You could have cum right there. Joel Miller was yelling right in your face. You’d gotten off by listening to him lose his shit at anyone trying to fundraiser or collect donations who had dared knock on his door but having a front row seat to a live performance was better than you could have ever imagined.

Joel watched your lips part and your brows twitch as they furrowed and your head tilt back slightly. He heard your breath hitch between his furious growling breaths, and his eyes slid down your parka-clad frame and he swore he saw your thighs clench.

His eyes went wide as he realized the effect he was having on you.

“You fuckin’ dirty little shit…”

The whimper he received in response made his cock twitch in his WalMart Levi’s. He sucked in a harsh breath and swallowed hard. He hadn’t had a woman look at him like that since he went to the strip club with his brother for his bachelor party, and he knew she was looking for a hefty tip. But you – the only thing he could think of is that you were trying to find a way to get out of paying for the damage your shovel caused. There was no waythat you were actually interested in him in that way. No. No woman had wanted to fuck him since before his daughter, Sarah, had been in junior high. He was a fat old asshole and you… you weren’t.

“Joel…”

Your soft voice pulled him back and the frown he carried all but left his face, being replaced with eyebrows to his hairline and his mouth open in confusion and shock.

“Joel, I… I’m sorry about your truck.”

You grabbed the zipper to your parka and pulled down, opening it to reveal your great aunt’s knitted sweater with a loon on it. Joel’s widened eyes swept over you and his brows furrowed.

“The hell you up to?”, he croaked, trying to sound intimidating.

“It’s warm in here”, you respond, tossing your parka on to, but missing completely, the stair banister.

His mind was racing. You actually seemed to be coming on to him as you stepped closer in your mismatched socks. You looked up at him through your lashes while your hands slowly slid up your legging-clad thighs and up to the hem of your sweater. He watched as you pulled it over your head slowly, getting it stuck for a moment, revealing a worn out white t-shirt with a faded image of a marshmallow peep and the slogan ‘Holla At My Peeps!’. He took another step back and you tossed your sweater at him, and he stumbled back, falling onto his recliner.

“Jesus, woman!”, he hollered, ripping your sweater off his head just in time to see you standing above him.

“You know how hot you are?”, you asked, leaning forward over him.

He froze. He must be dead. Or asleep. Or maybe he slipped when he stormed out the door to yell at you and hit his head. Or maybe he was drunk. Maybe he took a NyQuil tablet instead of the Omega 3-6-9 fish oil pills.

“The hell is wrong with you?”, he sputtered out, looking at you wide-eyed.

You didn’t answer. You only leaned forward, nudging your nose against his and letting out a breathy giggle. He tried to speak again, but his words got lost in the high pitch grunt he let out when your knee came up and nestled in between his thighs, pushing against the considerable bulge that had developed.

His hand involuntarily gripped your wrist that was supported on his arm rest, and he sucked in a deep breath.

“I know exactly what you need, Joel Miller.”, you cooed, tongue jutting out and licking your teeth, trying to sound seductive. “You need a good fuck.”

His mouth hung open in shock. You grinned wildly and kissed the tip of his nose before nipping at his bottom lip and tugging it between your teeth.

Joel let out a groan and closed his eyes, the hand on your wrist moving to your t-shirt’s hem and slipped underneath it. You nudged your knee against his crotch again and kissed him, tasting no-name waffles and burnt coffee.

The kiss seemed to break something in Joel. This wasn’t a dream, or an antihistamine induced hallucination or a concussion - this was real. You, his hot, young, stupid neighbour was crawling onto his lap and shoving your tongue down his throat.

He grunted lowly and pushed you back, looking up at you with dark eyes. You tried moving forward again, but his hand held you back.

A whine emanated from your throat, and he shook his head. “I’m not fucking you-“

You scoffed and he shushed you.

“Oh, hush and lemme finish, you loony shit!”, he huffed. “I was sayin’ that I'm not gonna fuck you in this chair; it barely holds my weight and if you’re gonna be bouncin’ on me, this fuckin’ thing’ll screw the pooch.”

You shrugged your shoulders, irritated. “Okay, fine. Then where?”

“My bed, you nimrod!”, he snapped with a scowl, then grinned. “Got a nice mattress with good lumbar support.”

*****

You had followed Joel to his room and were pleasantly… let down. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the beige walls and the picture of a horse above his non-exciting bed were not what you had thought he would have. What surprised you was the essential oil diffuser plugged in on his bedside table, giving the air a fresh lavender smell.

The fact that the rest of his house looked like a rejected concept for an early nineties sitcom and his bedroom looked like a bed and breakfast that had no theme, for some reason, made you want him more. This man and his lack of consistency. You needed him in you now.

Grabbing his arm and turning him around, you pulled him into a desperate kiss; teeth and tongues, fighting for real estate in each other’s mouths.

“Get naked, sugar.”, he grunted as he broke the kiss with a lopsided grin. He unsnapped his shirt, revealing a grey, stained undershirt, its ribbing pulled tight and stretched over his belly while his mouth and surrounding patchy facial hair glistened with your saliva.

While he wasn’t being that polite, he wasn’t being mean. That was a problem. Even with how mundane he’d revealed himself to be, it wasn’t enough. The residual dampness that made your panties stick to your core was a result of him yelling at you out front, and that goodwill your pussy had shown was slowly drying up.

Joel’s hands began to make quick work of his belt and stretch denim jeans, but he noticed you not moving to do the same.

His hand flapped at you in an urging motion, “Make with the no clothes. Can’t fuck you with them on.”

His eyes narrowed as he noted your lack of movement, and he paused. You began to see signs that Joel was getting mad, and your mind flipped through every situation you’d witnessed him lose his shit in.  What was it that would set him off quick? You weren’t about to throw a block party in his room, nor were you a religious group knocking at his door early on a Saturday. Then it clicked.

A devious grin broke out slowly on your face as you sat on his Temperpedic mattress and crossed your arms.

“Make me.”

“You indignant little shit…”, he growled, clenching his fist.

A flutter in your lower belly. More.

“Come on. Make me.”

“You fuckin’ tease… Fuck you!” His eyes were filling with fire.

An almost painful need bloomed in your core. More!

“Fuck me yourself, coward.”

He sputtered and guffawed, eyes wide in rage.

“You fuckin’ shit! Bangin’ up my truck and actin’ like a needy Jezabel just to fuckin’ tease me like this!”

You could have cum right there, between the iron grip on your wrist and his loud belittling.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted, and he snarled. He grabbed your hand and yanked you up off the bed. You truly thought his back was bad enough that the effort of getting you up alone would be too much, but he shoved you against his dresser, then slamming his weight into your back. You whined, feeling your pussy clenching on nothing.

“You’re such a shit!”, he grunted, grabbing your elasticized waistband, and yanking your leggings and panties down on one side while your hand went to the other; the two of you awkwardly working towards removing your barrier.

When they were low enough on your legs to step out of, you clumsily did so, then tried to turn around to help Joel. He wasn’t fast enough, swearing under his breath as your hands lifted his belly to access his strained button fly. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a dog on a window while a steak was being grilled just on the other side.

You pushed his jeans down around his hips and they pooled around his ankles. He kicked them off and bit down on the crux of your neck and shoulder as your hand cupped and felt up his hard cock.

Jesus. Oh fuck.

Joel was hung. Like unreasonably so. You’d had your fair share of men slamming their pork steeples into your wet cunt, but none of them could even hold a candle to the monstrosity that sat heavy and covered in satin in your hand. You planted your hand on his chest and pushed him back, needing to get a peek at what Joel was packing. You immediately looked down, seeing the Wile E. Coyote faux-satin boxers protruding out in an impressive, and frankly intimidating, bulge.

“Oh shit...”, you breathed out, contemplating on whether you truly needed to do any serious sitting for the next week, or if you could maybe just get away with laying down at work.

His hand snapped to your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye, and he gave you a dark smile, “Showed up to a gun fight with a knife, sugar?”

You didn’t have time to respond because Joel shoved his hand between your legs and harshly began rubbing your clit.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled back. Joel watched, an approving sneer on his face.

“’S fucked up … you like this?”

“uh…. Uh-huh…”

“You’re a lunatic…”

You smiled lazily. “You’re fingering a lunatic… w-what’s that say about you?”

He paused then huffed out, “That I’m fingering a lunatic, you moron.”

You let out a throaty laugh that bleeds into a moan as Joel shoves two thick fingers into your hole, slowly dragging them out before plunging them back in.

“You’re a sick little shit… you seducin’ and teasin’ an old man, an’gettin’ me all wound up… Neighbourhood headache… that’s you. Fuckin’ shit up and walkin’ away with a smile on her dumb face.”

“’M close… don’t…. don’t stop…”

His fingers kept the slow languid pace going as he leaned in and harshly whispered, “Unlike you, sugar, I don’t like to leave people disappointed.”

His eyes never left you, watching your every move. Every involuntary twitch and shudder, every flutter of your eyelids and breath leave your parted lips. He could feel it around his fingers and see it on your face that you were feeling everything intensely and now that he had you like this, he wasn’t going to let you go without making sure you weren’t going to pull this shit again.

Joel was many things, but a man who could let things go was not one of them. He was tired of hearing you cream and cry on whatever silicon thing you were shoving into yourself through your bedroom window as he lost his shit on someone; tired of seeing you make eyes at him while you sat in your front yard as he grumbled at a neighbour for the state of their lawn. He was still furious at you for once letting your hand - your soft, sweet, tender hand - linger on his when handing him his mail that was accidentally delivered to your home, forcing him to sit in his shitty recliner and try to finish with his calloused, rough, and hard hand. He never came.

You were going to pay for that. He’d promised himself that for almost five years and now here you were, on your way to being a muppet with how his hand played in your pussy. Joel’s time had come.

You came, moaning, on his hand as he watched, his fingers still moving in and out of you, and his thumb took up the task of tending to your twitching clit. Your face twisted and you cried out, trying to push his hand away.

Your tongue felt thick in your mouth and a moan seeped out. As you rode the wave, he yanked his hand out and grabbed your arm, throwing you onto the bed.

“Goddammit, you’re such a pretty shit.”, he grumbled, reaching for your ankle, and tugging your ass to the edge of the bed. You tried sitting up on your elbows, but he shoved you back down with his body weight.

His weight. Good god, he felt heavier and better than you ever thought he could as he pressed you down into the mattress.

But he got up off you, trying to wrangle your ankles and pull your exposed pussy to just the right spot to save his back from being strained. You tried sitting up again, wanting to have some sort of control over the situation, but Joel growled and grabbed your hips, and, in an impressive feat, flipped you onto your front all while grumbling about what a pain in the ass you were.

“Can’t even fuckin’ be considerate enough to stay put…”

You heard him spit then grunt, figuring he was priming that fucking meat wagon between his legs, and you let out an impatient huff.

“Knock that shit off!”, he snapped, flicking you on your ass cheek. “You just came, nimrod. You can fuckin’ wait!”

“Yeah… but I wanna cum again!”, you whined out with a smile, trying to not laugh at how irritated he was with you.

“I bet you do… but you’re on my time, and I am a patient man, sugar.”, he crooned lowly, snaking his hand up your back and to your hip. You squirmed a bit, but his hold kept you planted in place, and his other hand held his cock as he nudged it against your opening.

The smile on your face dropped as his huge member pushed in; your mouth opened, and out came a gasp followed by a choked moan.

“That’s it… Jesus Murphy…  not even fuckin’ your throat and I got you to shut your mouth…”

Yes, you knew Joel was huge. But it was just an abstract concept up until that moment. Now that he was shoving his massive dick into you, you felt like the universe’s mysteries were now clearly laid out. You knew what religion was right, who shot JFK, how they made the moon landing look real…

Nothing in life would ever surprise you again because you were being split open by this grumpy, fat man. You were being ruined by Joel Miller.

He grunted as he pulled back and then slammed into you.

“Tight little snatch, sugar… takin’ me like a champ.”

You couldn’t respond. Your brain had melted and left your skull empty, and you were unable to do anything but breathe loudly and moan, “S’too big… too big…”

Joel snickered and grunted, snapping his hips and shoving himself deep. You wriggled and squirmed, simultaneously needing him stop and to fuck you harder. Your head began to feel faint, and your core squeezed him, forcing a groan out of him.

He began to snap his hips faster, panting and grunting like the fat kid in gym class being forced to run a mile. You whined and squirmed, trying to get your knees under your body to be able to push back against him, to get him deeper, but he grabbed your calf and bit your leg right above your sock with a growl then groaned, “Stay… stay put… don’t move… jus’lemme… lemme finish…”

You let out a yelp than melted into a moan, throwing yourself into another orgasm. Joel’s thrusts became hurried and more erratic. The high-pitched whine that ripped out of Joel sounded like a dog begging for table scraps as he shot his load into you.

He collapsed onto your back, both of you panting. After what felt like hours but in reality, was only about 30 seconds, Joel had gone quiet. You nudged him, hoping to god he didn’t die from a pussy-induced heart attack. He grunted and struggled to push himself up off you, then flopped on the bed next to you. You rolled over onto your back and looked at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his brows furrowed; his wispy salt and pepper hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes were closed. He was still breathing heavily through his mouth. You smiled, feeling a fulfillment you hadn’t since you’d convinced your parents that it was your sister who broke the CD-ROM drive in the family computer even though it was really you. Cuddling into his, your fingers drew heart shapes in his sweat coated chest hair.

Now that he’d fucked you, you wanted to clear the air as it were, and make sure he wasn’t going to make you pay for any damage to his truck. “So…”

Joel grunted in response, one eye opening and looking at you.

“I was just wondering… what’s your licence plate mean?”

He sighed and closed his eye again. He said the meaning quietly and at first you weren’t sure you heard him right.

“What?”

His cheeks flushed a little harder and he rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff.

“ShagMaster 9000.”

TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @jennaispunk @tightjeansjavi @rubyfruitjungle @lilmizmoz @strang3lov3 @pedroshotwifey @harryleatherfit @bitchesuntitled

[wolfiesmoon]

I NEED MORE CONTENT WITH PRANKSTER YUU AND VIL😍

reader is gender neutral and is a silly prankster

ofc anything for my slavic friendo 🤭 yall get special treatment fr

i am still genuinely blown away by how well recieved that body swap fic of mine was, i've never gotten that many comments on a fic of mine before

(and how well recieved i was into the twst fandom in general, srsly guys thanks for the support💕)

You are in a silly mood today. But then again, when are you not?

You feel like causing a bit of trouble to someone, but all the fun options have already been exhausted and you doubt they'd fall for your tricks twice in a row.

However, you still do have one person you can pull a prank on, and that's Vil Schoenheit. Normally, you'd give him a special pass which lets him bypass your pranks because he's extra special to you.

But what's the fun in that? Sometimes even he deserves to be messed with a little. Also, wouldn't it be kind of unfair if Vil was the only one spared from your little tricks?

That settles it, you're sneaking into Pomefiore tonight.

You knew Vil would be out at about 7 pm, busy with a photoshoot. He told you himself. Beginner mistake.

You're already cooking up a funny prank to pull. It's an expensive one, but his reaction will be worth the empty wallet. You can always work a few shifts at the Mostro lounge to make the money back.

Once 7 pm hit, you quietly snuck into Pomefiore, trying your damn hardest to sneak into Vil's room without getting caught.

"What are you doing here?" A very familiar voice stopped you in your tracks just as you were about to reach the door to Vil's room. And you were so close, too.

"Good evening to you too, Epel." You greeted him, slightly irked by the instant interrogation. He quickly corrected himself, greeting you back with a slight stutter.

"I just realised I forgot something in Vil's room." This actually wasn't a bad excuse at all since you often visit Vil and Epel knows that. You mostly just let him experiment on you with makeup or let him talk about his passions. Which is always a pleasure.

"Why do you have a backpack, then?" Epel glanced at the backpack which was hanging off your shoulder. He didn't mean to doubt you, but even he's been a victim to your pranks before. You're being really suspicious, but then again, it feels like you're always planning something.

"They're books, and thick ones too. They'd be difficult to carry with my hands." You shrugged, subtly showing the conversation is over as you placed your hand on the doorknob.

Of course, that part about the books was a lie. Your backpack was filled with "skincare products". They looked exactly like Vil's skincare, but really, all the bottles were filled with mayonnaise.

It's very convenient that mayo is coloured moderately like skincare products, and if it wasn't, you made sure to color match it with dye. You even tried replicating the original smell on some of them. Buying all that skincare from Sam was truly eye opening to just how expensive Vil's shiny skin is.

You're going to swap out his actual skincare with your counterfeit mayo skincare. You would pour out the contents of the original bottles and simply refill them but you have a feeling you'd never escape Vil's wrath if you did that and that's the one thing you definitely do not want to happen.

You placed the mayo skincare on his vanity table, carefully replacing each cream and balm one by one exactly as they were placed originally. Ohohoho, this is going to be great.

You put Vil's actual skincare back in your backpack and left Pomefiore with a sense of accomplishment. Oh, you wish you could see his initial reaction directly.

.

"Care to explain what these are?" Vil lifted one of his creams out of his bag, sat across from you in the Pomefiore lounge.

"They're uhhh... your skincare creams?" You acted innocent, like you had no clue why he was taking that tone with you.

"I know it was you. Epel told me he saw you in Pomefiore acting suspicious yesterday." He pressed you further, serious expression on his face. Ohohoho, you suddenly feel like you're in a detective movie.

You tried not to let the satisfaction on your face show. "Huh? I was simply taking back the magical history book I left in your room. What does your facial cream have to do with it?"

"I am not here to play this game with you. What did you do with my skincare?" He did not look amused by your excuses in the least.

"Hehehehe, I might or might not have replaced it with mayonnaise." You grinned evilly at him.

"You-" he seemed at a loss for words for a moment. "I knew you switched it out with something, but mayonnaise? Really? Why do you do these things?" He knew you knew that mayonnaise was his least favourite food. And he also knew of your affinity for pranks and jokes, but it seems he's gotten a bit too comfortable with not being their victim. Just how long have you been planning this? (One day.)

"Becaaaause, it's funny. Oh man, I wish I could've seen your face when you first applied it." you snorted, imagining his expression. His face is always such a joy to look at, but you imagine it must have been especially expressive in that moment. Your snort developed into hearty laughter.

"I for one do not find it as amusing as you do." he crossed his legs, looking at you with an expression that demanded seriousness. If you weren't so comfortable around him, you would have immediately apologised and bowed gracefully. His presence sure is strong.

You tried your best to stop laughing so he wouldn't actually kick you out of Pomefiore, but it was hard. Whenever you thought you had calmed down and tried looking him in the eyes, it was right back to laughter.

After about a minute of this, Vil seemingly gave up on stopping you, expression softening slightly.

"You should know by now how important skincare is to me. Having to miss out on it this morning was a horrible experience. Which, speaking of... just what did you do to the original contents of my products?" he looked incredibly horrified at the thought of you simply throwing away the contents.

"Oh, I, uh...." you acted nervous on purpose to make him think you're confirming his fears. His eyes widened slightly and he leaned forward in the fancy lounge chair.

"...Put the original tubes and containers away in Ramshackle dorm and bought new ones to refill with mayo." he took a visible sigh of relief. His products live another day.

"Didn't that hurt your wallet?" he asked.

"Yeah, a lot. But it was worth it." you shrugged, smiling at him.

"Well, I suppose you're quite a dedicated person, too. I didn't peg you as one initially." you really are a dedicated prankster. In some aspects, he respects the commitment. In others, he thinks you were kind of stupid for spending so much money just to annoy him.

"Always have been, pookie bear, always have been." you jokingly blew a kiss at him.

He cleared his throat, cheeks dusting pink. How ungraceful.

"I like you when you're angry." you blurted out after a few seconds of silence.

"...You're strange." he narrowed his eyes at you.

"Hahahaha, I knowwww. It's just, like... when you're angry with me for pulling a silly prank on you, it feels different. Your face becomes all expressive and stuff. Oh, and also, it's like, really hot." you recall watching a few movies which he acted in and you felt all giddy when he got angry playing the hot villain. As much as you know he dislikes being typecast, you always simp for him quite excessively when he plays a villain.

"Then why have you only pulled one prank on me so far?" he ignored that last comment after a few moments of consideration. He supposes the pranks would lose their effect if you did them too much, but if you really get that much enjoyement out of his misery, then why have you waited so long?

"Oh, that's because you get a special no-prank pass. You get it since I love y-" you paused.

"I realise I've said too much... I mean, uhhh, that was a prank! Got you! Hahahaha!" Suddenly, you wanted to remove yourself from Pomefiore, so you did just that. You quickly left the dorm without saying goodbye. You cringed at yourself for how unnatural and forced that laughter sounded.

He blinked a few times at the sudden end of the conversation and then fell back on the lounge chair.

"That little... Oh, your real goal is to make me lose my mind, isn't it..." Vil pressed his fingers against his forehead, mumbling that to himself before going to sort out some paperwork. He's wasted far too much time dealing with you anyways.

He denied any accusations from Rook about his cheeks being more pink than before.

[reallyromealone]

Demon Slayer • Father Figure Tengen x Muzan's Son Reader • Reader was a weak half demon that refused to help his father find the spider Lily. A traveler mistook the boy as human when he found Reader severally injured on the side of the road, he was took to the butterfly estate since it was close by in hopes for the boy to be healed. When the Hashiras found out he was a demon, he was prisoned. That is when Tengen and him got close, Reader seeing Tengen as a father that he always wanted. (take your time! Love you, friendo!)

Oh this is good

And ily too friendarino

I worked very hard on this ---

(Name) was only five in human years when his dad nearly killed him and abandoned him on the side of a road.

Scared and cold the little half demon clung helplessly to his blankie, the only thing he had of his mother.

His body was shutting down and he felt so alone.

Half demons healed at a much much slower rate, (name) accepting death.

"Oh poor thing, let's get you to a doctor."

Waking up in a warm bed felt weird, the small child clinging to the blankets helplessly as people checked on him "he's so cold..." One of them commented as they tried to warm the boy up.

See, the tricky thing about half demons is that they have a weird combination of both human and demon.

They can die of old age but they're aging process is incredibly slow.

They have blood magic but it's nowhere near as strong.

And unlike demons they can eat human food and go into sunlight, they're just very sensitive to the latter.

(Name) could honestly live a normal life if he chose too.

But his dad had other plans.

He wanted to raise (name) to be the perfect weapon despite his flaw of being a human.

He wanted (name) to find the spider lily.

(Name) didn't want to help his dad find some flower, the small child not understanding the gravity of why it was so important.

Muzan didn't like it.

One bit.

So Muzan did what he felt logical.

Kill and abandon the child and start again.

Though he didn't successfully kill (name) as the small boy was still alive.

Cracking his eyes open he saw a traditional room, gas lamp beside him as a woman with pretty purple eyes and a butterfly clip dabbed warm water on him to try and regulate his body temperature.

"Oh! You're awake, how are you feeling?" The lady asked and (name) was hesitant to answer as he looked down "I'm good, thank you miss..." His voice meek and soft as he refused to make eye contact with her.

He would face dire consequences if he did so.

"Where are your parents little one?"

"Mamas gone... Papa hates me"

"Why do you think that?"

"Wouldn't find a stupid lily so papa got rid of me..."

"....what kind of lily" the air in the room shifted as everyone stared at the child...his eyes....they looked like...his.

"Buu spider lily..."

"Take him to the dungeons" was all he heard before he was taken down to a cold cell...reminded him of where father would put him if he didn't behave.

Curled up he cried, realizing he didn't have his blankie made him even more upset.

Tengen walked down to the dungeons, requested by the others to figure out what the kid was up to and kind of interrogate him.

When tengen got to the demons cell he wasn't expecting practically a baby, sobbing away "thought you would have been older..." Tengen said catching the boys attention and Tengen watched him physically flinch and curl up more "I'm sorry..." The boy mumbled and repeated the phrase, genuinely scared of the man.

"Hey... I'm not gonna hurt you, I just have a few questions..."

(Name) stared at him with teary eyes but didn't say anything else.

"Pretty scary down here... Are you hungry?"

(Name) shook his head but his stomach said otherwise, a loud growl rang out and (name) cried a bit in worry.

"Hey... It's alright, we all get hungry" Tengen said softly and (name) fiddled with his little fingers "is there anything I can do to make feel better?"

(Name) was quiet for a moment before speaking "my blankie..." His little voice melted Tengens heart and the white haired man nodded "alright... I will be right back alright?"

"Promise?"

"I promise"

When tengen came upstairs be was livid.

They wanted him to interrogate a toddler!

He didn't care if that was Muzans child, all he saw was a scared abandoned toddler who needed someone to save him.

But first that kid needed food.

And his blankie.

He made a simple dish for the toddler, nothing crazy and grabbed his blanket and a small cup of tea to wash it down.

(Name) was surprised when the man came back with so much for him.

"Here you go, it's not a the fanciest but I like it" he said wrapping the boys blanket around his tiny shoulders "and this is some tea, it's cool enough to drink now"

"Have you ever had this?" Tengen asked the small child who shook his head "what have you had?"

"Nefer had food... Father made me eat pink squishy stuff and yucky red stuff... It always made me feel weird"

It didn't take a genius to realize what he talking about.

Flesh and blood.

The thing about half demons is they can eat flesh of humans and gain power like a demon but it doesn't taste good.

It tasted to (name) how raw flesh would to a human.

Since no one else ate human food around him, he didn't know much about it.

"Well I promise you this is really yummy"

Tengen held a chopstick to (name)s lips and the tot opened wide and looked pleasantly surprised at how yummy it tasted.

The two spent the next half hour like this, Tengen feeding the small boy who somehow ended up in his crossed lap and Tengen learned that this boy wasn't a threat at all.

He was just a little boy who desperately needed love.

And Tengen wanted to give him all of it.

"Let's go upstairs yeah?"

The others were horrified as he carried the little boy in his arms and spoke oh so softly to him.

"He's a demon!"

"He's a toddler who just had green tea for the first time and his mom's human, he's half"

"He still shares blood with that monster!"

"A monster he's terrified of, he's five...he doesn't understand what his dad is doing all he knows is he hurt him and never loved him"

The other hashira looked sceptical as Tengen continued "I will take full responsibility for him...just give him a chance before turning him away"

The others begrudgingly agreed and allowed him to keep the spawn.

The following days the others watched Tengen interact with the child, setting him up in a room and getting him a few toys, the little boy crying.

He had never been given a gift.

(Name) was practically his shadow, following him everywhere and holding onto his pant leg.

A week became a month and a month became six.

Tengens wives took the small boy in with open arms, doting and loving.

"Goodnight (name)..." Tengen said softly to the boy he had grown to love.

"Goodnight papa..."

Tengen wanted to cry right then and there, he had seen the boy as his own but never said anything as he didn't want to push the boy but now...

He was his dad now.

And he had never been happier.

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

i am back with a wholesome scenario for our boys! (shoutout to my bestie for helping me with this)

so we know that scent glands and biting bond marks can help alphas calm down, yeah? well, i think they also have little fidgets that they do if they feel too overwhelmed/stressed to bite or scent (nobody did this right?)

i think jing yuan and blade would be the types to stare at their partner’s hand bc they want it in their hair or to mess with their mate’s rings/jewelry, 100% can see jy as the one who hides in the crook of your neck or between your shoulder blades while hugging from behind

welt would keep touching his glasses or twisting his cane in his hand, and would probably want to lay his head in his mate’s lap to get his hair played with

luocha, we genuinely have no ideas for bc he probably would just be like “i want attention bc i don’t feel good” or just would suffer in silence until his scent soured so bad to the point his mate was like “dude wtf happened to you? you were fine like .2 seconds ago”

- messy nest + friendo

These are so cute! Messy nest tell friendo thank you for the ideas too and also welcome to hsr omegaverse hell :Dc

cw: omegaverse

I can't get the image of Blade and Jing Yuan being like "Plz pet" as they stare at their omegas hands!

Blade

Playing with his omegas hands while they sit on his lap or rest beside him. The combined warmth of their hands and the difference in how smooth their hands are compared to his is a nice stress reliever. He'll also do it slowly taking in each segment of their hands and following veins and or life lines of their palm.

If they wear any jewelry on their hands or wrists he's fiddling with it, spinning them around, gently tugging it.

Would like his omegas hands in his hair if he's going through a pretty rough time as his hands aching but he still wants some stimulation. Head massages are a definite yes, he might even purr quietly.

Jing Yuan

Uses his omega's lap the most out of any of them he loves how comfortable they are as he rests his head. Enjoys having them comb through his hair with their fingers or brush it for him, puts him to sleep every time. Scratch his scalp and he'll melt.

Definitely buries his face in between their shoulder blades as he uses them as his personal teddy bear. Though it's not as much as it would be if he had his face in their chest he can hear their heart and their breathing which soothes him.

If his omega has any jewelry on them, earrings, rings, necklaces, you name it he's playing with it between his fingers. Loves to gift them jewelry that has varying textures and moveable parts for this purpose, besides knowing it'll look great on his omega of course.

Welt

Another who likes to have his hair played with and rest his head on his omega's lap. Open to head massages and scratches, either will do but massages are best on the days he's got a headache.

Runs his hands over textured surfaces with dips and groves like his cane. Might even begin twirling a pen if he's got one or fiddling with the edges of any book he's reading for stimulation. Adjusts his glasses multiple times and even takes them off to clean invisible dust from them just so he has an excuse to mess with them even more.

Out of all of them he's the one who asks his omega for comfort only after trying to soothe himself first. Though his omega may figure out he needs comfort after seeing him adjust his glasses for the 5th time in 3 minutes.

Luocha

Doesn't want to bother his omega to comfort him as he's more used to looking after them rather than being looked after himself. Will try to resolve his discomfort by himself or keep it bottled up. His omega will be shocked when they catch his scent souring though so he let's them know pretty quickly after that.

It takes a bit of time but eventually he learns to be more open with his needs and let's his omega know, should they not be busy of course, that he needs some comfort. His omega is very willing to being used as a pillow by him or even hold him rather than be held.

Being held by his omega is a great source of comfort for him, if they brush through is hair during it it'll soothe him even more. He'll bury his face in their neck or chest and just listen to their rhythm.