#the wiggles hate each other in real life

[weirderscience]

forreal though i think its insanely funny that worlds a stage evolved from a typical dhmis "au where theyre actors trapped in the set for Real and there are Murders" fic to "lets dissect early 2000s real estate economics through a horror lens"

[riggedbones]

i feel like there should be a playlist of lemon demon songs for people who have only ever heard a few spirit phone songs. starting with the wiggles hate each other in real life mostly bc i just listened to it and i think it’d be funny

[iron-niffler]

yknow i just LOVE how my calc 2 class is literally 85% exams :)

[hanihaato]

a/n: yandere aventurine x female reader, suggestive, non-consensual touching and forced kisses

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t say a word, darling,” a glowed finger pressed to your lips makes words die on your tongue almost as effectively as the Aventurine’s vivid, piercing eyes. Except for the shallow breaths, you stay in silence, and he glides his hand from your lips to cup your cheekbone. “I must say, you are really bold, testing my connections like that to find you. Being sceptical is a great quality…”

He pushes you onto the bed and lays on top of you, interlocking your fingers together so you don’t ever try to push him off yourself. He stares at you, his smile growing smug with your every try to wiggle out yourself of the embrace.

Aventurine’s head falls on your shoulder. You shiver as he chuckles and his warm breath sends a chill through your spine he muchly adores tracing his fingers on.

“…But not when it comes to me.”

You turn your head away from him. Ugh, you wish you could have at least a full day without him, but you could pride yourself in having a plan good enough to escape the room he locked you up two weeks ago when you first arrived on this planet.

Though, it hurts your ego a bit that Aventurine doesn’t seem to be bothered at all.

He shifts on the bed, and you hate how the sheets that smelled of the hotel’s cleanliness are already starting to stink with his perfumes. The smell you once loved now suffocates you with each breath.

He wraps his arm around your waist so he spoons your back for a second before grasping you tighter and throwing you over himself, having you face him. He entangles your legs before you can think of hitting him with a knee.

You whisper into the pillows.

“…At least I know you are a real deal.”

Aventurine chuckles in a tone you would find endearing if you didn’t feel he laughs at you. When he first started to show you the best parts of the world he’s been living in—the casinos that always had a nice pianist playing on a grand piano, the numerous vine tastings, the breakfasts that make your mouth water, clothing that feels like silk in touch—you could hear the tone everywhere, usually just by your ear. He then told you how he loved how your eyes shone and how much more enchanting you look every day.

You wonder which night he started to plan to cut you off from both worlds, yours and his, to only have him as your everything.

“That’s news to me,” he says, theatrically raising his eyebrows. “You didn’t believe me at all? You must know, darling, that everything I told you after we got together is true. That’s a real privilege right there.”

His finger starts to trace circular patterns on your forearm’s skin. Your heart throbs painfully.

“Aventurine…” Your voice is as demanding as can be the voice of a woman squished in the arms of a man who knows how to use words and guns. “I don’t believe you really love me. That’s not how love looks like.”

The man is still in his position. He blinks, and his eyes are fully on you. You have yet to find out if that look is a warning for you or whether he is enticed by what are you saying. Or maybe he just wants to hear your voice—you know Aventurine is not a man above misleading you into believing you aren’t in a hopeless position just to hear your pleas.

“When you love someone, you want the best for them. You want— You see them as equals. You don’t strip them of what they love to do, and… and people they love. You just… join their life and slowly build a new one together…”

When you fall silent, Aventurine pulls you in and with the other hand brushes hair off your face.

He hums. “That’s an inspiring speech. Oh, and I loved how you looked when you talked about it. Such a view. You must’ve thought about it for quite a while, huh?” He pats you on the head, lingering a bit to loosely twirl your hair on his fingers. “But, dearest, everything you’ve said, well, it all checks out.”

“No.”

“I do view as equals. We have a trade: my everlasting love for a bit of your freedom. It looks like a good deal.”

“It doesn’t look like—”

Aventurine shuts you up with a kiss. You hate, hate, hate this feeling, because in these moments you wonder if you could ever truly fall in love with a man you despise that gives you the hugs you long for and kisses you think about for days.

As he pulls away, with your free hand, you wipe off the traces of the kiss on your lips. Of course, you know it’s meaningless—he kissed you many times, you would have to count in hundreds at least—he will revenge you for that later.

“Awh, don’t be like that,” He says, kissing you again and holding your wrists this time. “You know, I pride myself in being a good businessman. If you are going to put your undying love for me, I will give you the freedom back.”

“You may beg all you want, but with begging you can’t get my love.”

It’s a brave thing to say when you are at the mercy of a man who’s famished for your affection.

“Hm, is that so?” Aventurine chuckles, but for the first time in the evening, it lacks the usual flippancy. He begins to pepper your neck with kisses, and you feel his sturdy hands travel down your stomach and a tugging on your shirt. “Well, say what you want, darling. But since you’ve been by my side for such a long time, you must know I only engage in bets I know I will win.”

[arminsumi]

Stitches 'n Kisses

Nurse!Geto すぐる / fem!reader

★ Content : fluff, drabble

★ Synopsis : Your husband nurses a wound that you accidentally got on your walk home from work.

★ Warnings : needles

You'd hurt yourself quite bad on your way home from work. Thankfully, the hospital your husband works as a nurse at is close by. Though you freak out about your wound, Suguru is calm and eases you onto a cot.

Suguru stitches you right up and gives you a shot to be safe.

Flick flick flick. Suguru flicks at the spot of your skin where he's going to insert the needle.

"Juuust a pinch." your husband warns in a soft voice.

You pull the same face you've always pulled when getting your skin punctured with a needle. Suguru smirks in amusement at your cute face. He tries to be as gentle and slow as possible so that you feel okay.

He focuses on pushing the syringe down and emptying its contents so he doesn't brush away his bangs. They annoy him eventually, so he blows them out of his face, but that doesn't help. The small moment makes you two laugh.

"So proud, baby." he praises after you take the needle.

He pulls the needle out and presses a gauze against the puncture spot.

"That hurts more than I remember." you comment, "I hate needles."

He chuckles, "I'm sorry. I tried to be as gentle as possible but I guess you're just a real princess, aren't you?"

You fake gasp. "Wow! To think I married someone so rude."

"Kidding." he rasps flirtatiously and puts a bandage on your arm. "I'm sorry you got hurt so bad today, baby, I'll make you feel better with some princess treatment tonight."

"Like what?" you lean closer, ears perked up. "What are you thinking?"

Suguru hums in thought, eyes sultry and soft. He tenderly massages your arm.

"Hmmm... I'm torn between an exquisite dinner at your favorite and just watching trashy romance movies in bed. Unless my princess wants both, then she can have both."

"Really?" you smile, wiggling your feet. "I can have both?"

"You can have more than both. Anything that mind can think of, I'll give to you tonight."

Suguru leans in for a slow kiss. The two of you close your eyes and get lost in bliss with each other as if you're not in a hospital, it's funny.

Suddenly, his work phone buzzes with an imminent message and interrupts the moment.

He reads the message and heaves a sigh. "Well, that dinner date and movie will have to wait for tomorrow..."

"It's okay. I'll wait forever if I have to."

"I'm sorry."

"It's really okay, Suguru. The only thing that upsets me is that you look so tired and yet you have to keep working now for who knows how long."

He shrugs, "It's the career I chose. I'm responsible for it, I could have become a cult leader." he jokes.

"Hell, I'd follow you." you laugh.

He readies to leave, and receives another imminent message. You've got to pick up your little one from nursery school, so you also get ready to leave. Life is at its busiest right now.

Before you leave, Suguru reels you in for another long, drawn-out kiss.

"Promise me you'll pamper yourself like a princess when you get home, yeah? Just treat yourself like I would. Put some music on, light candles, take a long bath. Maybe I can try get home at around one or two."

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[goldsbitch]

Just don't talk--------

-and remember my coffee order.

p12 to Just don't talk

summary: First outing in public, as the two don't even try to hide that they're in love with each other.

As far as bizarre goes, this meeting was up there at the top, yet again.

The comms team had a big chart put up in the meeting room, with timelines, platforms, twists and turns - it was like watching someone explain a plot for some movie script. This is where you'll be spotted kissing for the first time, this is when you post a photo with a family member, this is when you'll go on a vacation together (faked, obviously) and this is when you'll part on separate vacation and soft launch your break up - and this is your break up note for social media. It was funny, yet a little overwhelming.

"Obviously, this will be adapted as we move forward. As you can see here on the next slide, these are the numbers we are setting as our targets. The amount of revenue generated by this will be affecting the schedule," the assistant presenting this seemed to have a little too much fun with it, up to the point when Lando thought they were getting off on it. He saved his comments - why would he stir the pot too much? Now that he has what he wanted. This is just a charade that they will have to get through. And if all goes according to their plan, all of the people making these presentations will be very surprised one day. He was sort of looking forward to wiping their smiles off.

"talk about romance," Y/N texted Lando secretly. He chuckled and shared a look with her, as if to say "we got this".

The numbers part was where it reached the peak of weird. The pair sat, watching people calculating how much money they will make out of them sharing few kisses in public and estimating how much will this affect their marketability.

Y/N had few issues with their plan. Mainly, it seemed to avoid anything really personal. As if a relationship was only about sharing a holiday and flaunting around with family pictures. She for one hated this part and made it very clear that no family of hers will be involved. But where were the shared streams, the dinner dates and shared hotel rooms? If this was a blueprint of their relationship, then it would have been a very shit one. But then again, this was the fake dating public part - they could not control what they did in their own real relationship. But she really hoped it would not be like that.

//

Their first public scheduled public outing - a very simple coffee run together, no hiding, little cute chat and holding hands. Those were the instruction they'd received.

It was one of the rare free days between races. She woke up at his place after spending first stressless night with him after few hard days. They both woke up early, still processing the time difference.

"Hello, sunshine," he whispered, as they laid side by side, legs tangled together. He watched her attentively, studying her face as she let a smile out upon hearing him.

"I don't wanna get up," she mumbled and wiggled her way deeper into his embrace. "Let's just stay here, like this."

She was just too cute to resist, stuck somewhere between sleep and awake. So honest and unguarded. Lando hasn't felt this relaxed in years. He held her tightly as her breath tickled him in his chest.

"I'd love nothing more that to stay here, my dear. But we gotta go out today, remember?"

"But it's just so comfortable here, please," she set her voice higher than usual, as if to convince him to skip school with her.

"Don't be a little tease, otherwise I'll never get anything done ever again," he joked and pulled away a bit in order to give her few pecks on her cheek.

"I'm a tease? What a double standard," she remarked curiously, as she traced his morning wood with her fingers.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather all the morale he had in him. "I can't exactly control that," he said heavily.

"I like it. Can you be my breakfast?" she asked, suddenly full of life. She abruptly sat up on him and demonstratively licked her lips, morning hair all tangled up, no clothes or make up on. How was he supposed to resist that? She smirked as she saw his determination leave and went on to suck him off while holding his hand.

His moans were louder that what she used from him. It was like entering a different room this time. A very pretty one.

//

"Did I ever tell you that you have really beautiful eyes?" she asked all of a sudden, as they were heading towards his fridge for a premade breakfast.

He looked at her as he opened the door. "I don't think so," he answered shyly. She could melt right then and there.

Lando took out two chai bowls and put them on his table. All very casual and comfortable.

She took her first spoon and immediately noticed her favorite smell. "My chef always skips on cinnamon. He believes it's bad for the gut."

"Do you not like it?" he asked, worried he unintentionally fucked up.

She licked her spoon, reminiscing of having his cock in her mouth just moments ago. "No, I really love it. Miss it, actually."

"You need to get a different chef, what kind of a bullshit is that?"

"Life is full of bullshit, Lando."

"Well aren't you a philosopher," he teased her once again.

They made sure to be at the top of their game. Tried on few outfits, trying to find something that might fit them both, Y/N being in her full on follicular phase and focusing more on removing the outfits from him, rather than putting them on. He acted annoyed, but was over the moon she finds him attractive as well. Once they finally rolled out his apartment, they were quite sight to see.

"Do you realize we did not decide on the most important thing," she said as Lando casually walked over to the driver's seat of one of his cars.

"Hm?"

She gave him a look instead of speaking, letting him figure it out on his own.

He was usually quite oblivious to these hints, but this one dropped fast.

"Absolutely not."

"I share your sentiment, absolutely not. I know how you drive, Lando."

"More podiums than you, so I get the driver's privileges. Stop overthinking and get it the car."

It was a matter of principles - she was not going to let them fall into relationship stereotypes automatically. And also she just did not accept other people driving, making her awfully similar to Lando.

"Have we never sat in a car together before?" he lost track a bit, trying to recall any other time they'd share a car.

"Nope."

It was becoming a stare down at this point. Neither of them backing down.

"My car is parked nearby. We can go separately," she bargained, waiting for him to back off. But he saw right through her, his ego not letting him get her away with that.

He replied without blinking. "Sure. Why the hell not." She wanted him to back down and he wanted the same from her. "Do you want me to drive you to your car?"

He was mocking her and she was not having it.

"Nope, just text me the location and we'll see who gets there first," she challenged, still sort of hoping for him to fold.

"Great, I'll give you a five minute head start," and he nonchalantly sat into his car.

"Fucking idiot," she mumbled under her breath. He heard her and had to bite his lips to stop himself smiling.

She tried to race there first while not breaking that many laws and not endangering anyone, but he still won. He was standing there, leaning on his car with all his glory, as he watched her park angrily.

"Hi, baby," he greeted her and took his hat off. "Better luck next time." He gave her a mocking pseudo-sad pout.

"For each speeding ticket you'll get 30 seconds penalty," she hit him back.

"Worth it and still first," he winked. "Ready?"

"I guess so." He walked over to her and took her hand in his. Already there were few bystanders noticing them.

"We'll be ok," he reassured more himself than her probably.

"I was kinda hoping for more than that," she tried to lighten up the mood, as sudden nerves washed over her.

"You just never stop, do you," he laughed as they walked over to the café and he held the door open for her.

"You wish."

As they entered, he asked about her coffee order and made sure to memorize it for the future. If he was to be a boyfriend, he would be the best one. She kept looking to the ground as he order for both of them. He saw her slight distress and hoped that she was not regretting this - being out in the open with him. Even though their teams thought this was all fake, it was more than real for him. He would not admit this to anyone, but he was also kind of nervous. But there was not a doubt in his mind about this being worth it. She stood next to him, practically glued to his side and it felt nice as they waited for their order. He had to find a way to cheer her, main reason being that he cared about her mood and the second being their first pictures had to have looking at least little bit like having fun.

"It's actually quite exciting, isn't it?" Lando asked, unsuccessfully fighting his smile. The more he thought about them, the more was starting to like this whole thing.

"What is, Lando?" she replied, coming back to reality and locking eyes with him. It worked like magic. Within seconds, she was smitten through the roof.

He held her hand as a lover would. It was like touching a life wire. Sending impulses throughout their bodies.

"Being able to do this in public," he mumbled under his breath and stepped just a little bit closer. Time to break the rules.

He licked his lips "Ready?"

She was on the same wavelength as him. "Will this be our first kiss?" she teased, shifting towards him.

He put his arm around her waist, pushing her as close as possible. "Uhm."

"But this is ahead of the schedule they'd planned," she teased, totally on board with him.

"And you can watch me try to give a damn." There was fire dancing in his eyes. She put her arms on his chest, letting herself go into his embrace and closed her eyes, as he put his lips onto hers and kissed her. It was a gentle peck, their lips slowly brushing onto each other, the way that they had many times before. Yet, it still felt special. Carefree. Bold and confident.

There weren't many people in the cafe and the kiss wasn't exactly a long one, but it was enough. They had it documented from several angles. Y/N searched for the photos and saved them all. Neither of them quite ready for the storm coming their way.

_________________________________________

@scopeiguess @leclercsluv @sulliamour @starmanv @riverxsq @eviethetheatrefreak @chonkybonky @bicchaan @saachiep81 @chezmardybum @a-beaverhausen @tbsloneely @iamkaku @amberpanda99

[sexydoffyman]

day 24 - CNC

König

navigation

genre: smut

mdni

König is a man who loves to chase his prey. Him having social anxiety doesn't mean that he isn't like a carnivore. He feeds on adrenaline. He has tons of energy. I mean, he's six foot ten military man. Of course, he's gonna have huge amounts of energy to waste.

In his life, he has been very active due to his job. But now that he found you, the love of his life, his time on missions has shortened. So you both came up with a way to make up for the unused energy.

You're sitting on a couch, reading a book and relaxing. It is then that you heard a click of keys clanking against a lock on your front door. By that time, you were already storming out of the back door.

You two set out a fun little game. The rules are simple. You run. He chases. If he catches you in ten minutes, he can do whatever he wants with you. If you win, he'd be like your personal servant. Cooking for you, massaging your feet, watching that fucking movie that he hates so much with you.

Now, you might be thinking "Ten minutes?!" "That's impossible." But let's be real with each other. It's pretty simple for him. You can hide and run, but he'll always catch you. The win rate is 18 : 2 for König.

You run out, but you've just run out of luck. He managed to open the door before you were out of the house. Meaning he knew in which direction you were running.

Chuckling to himself, he took off after you. Your fate was already sealed. The door didn't even close behind you, and he already ran out of it. You could hear him, and it sent shivers down your spine.

You took a sharp turn, hoping to throw him off. But you weren't fast enough. He grabbed you by your waist to pick you up. But the game wasn't over yet. You weren't giving up that fast. You kicked him right in the solar plexus, making him stop to catch his breath.

You expected him to be incapable of running after you for about ten seconds, giving you enough time to make a run for it. You were mistaken as he grabbed your arm, pulling you close to him.

You were wiggling and shaking to get out of his grasp. Which you were sure you'd never be able to do. He picked you up like it was nothing. He laughed and walked back to your house.

His walk was calm but still fast due to his height. He threw you on the bed, not giving a shit about what might happen to you. He didn't even close the door and he was already folding you in half. Ripping your clothes off and pushing your legs to your chest.

He holds no care in the world that he's too rough. He makes sure to do everything properly. To make you feel every inch of him. Don't worry about your clothes. He'll buy you new ones.

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Hey! Just finished reading that angsty Percy x reader fic you uploaded, and… it hurt, a lot. So I DEMAND (beg and plead) for something more fluffy and loving, y’know? So how about a Percy x reader that’s about Valentine’s Day, so they’re being extra affectionate to each other? And since the reader is a daughter of Athena, if that’s fine with you, she already knows what gifts to give him. Maybe they even show their true love for each other at the end, if you know what I mean 😉 (I’m leaving all the details up to y o u, if that’s alright).

Is this good? Also, glad to see you’re feeling better!

"Okay, okay, just wait here."

Percy plops himself down on your bed with that crooked smile of his, "Yes Ma'am."

"No peeking!" You yell as you retreat out your room again. Gathering the gifts, you nudge the door open with your foot and look inside to see Percy holding his hands over his face and bouncing on your mattress.

You assemble things in the correct order, all the while checking that he still can't see before clearing your throat and saying, "Open."

His eyes light up, laugh filling your room as you present him with a giant squid plushie. It's almost as tall as him and as he takes it from you and squeezes it, it blocks his whole body. "It's about eight times as big in real life but I don't think they make them that size."

He laughs with joy and fumbles blindly before he can hug you around the squid. You enjoy the moment for a second before wiggling out of his hold, "Okay wait, there's more."

He tucks the plushie under his armpit and happily accepts the custom blue chocolates, a t-shirt with a fake seashell bra design and kiss on the cheek before you reveal a small vile of sand from your pocket.

"What's that?" His fingers are already reaching for it as you push it into his hands.

"Sand, from Athens." He meets your eyes. "We're supposed to hate each other, destined to because of that place, but we don't. This is just a reminder that you're stronger than you know you are," You trace his fingers as he admires you, "That your love for people is stronger than the will of a god."

He laughs, "Stronger than two, actually."

You shove him jokingly before allowing him to envelope you in his arms to kiss you. It's full and deep and he leaves a few more pecks before he'd ready to fully pull away.

"Well now I feel like I didn't do enough." He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and produces a small book.

"What is it?" You question, gently taking it from his hands. He opens it for you and you gasp. Intricate drawings of your favorite flower decorate the first page, you flip it and see the same detail given to your favorite animal. Pages and pages of drawings, entrees labeling and describing your favorite things. Fun facts scrawled in the upper left corner of each.

Your eyes feel misty when you look up, "Who drew these?"

"Hazel, Jason helped with the research. Frank helped me spell."

You laugh, wiping at your eyes and wrapping your hands around his neck to kiss him. "Thank you."

He smiles, sea green eyes flashing, "Anything for you." And then he kisses you so hard you fumble backwards and drop the book.

[buckyalpine]

Ok so I have a request, but bear with me because I can’t find the prompt list I had seen about it 😩

Basically it was about how in real life, things happen or go wrong during sex that make it more silly. There was a whole list of things that might happen, but I can only remember two of them. One was like someone being too ticklish and the other was body parts making weird noises. Hopefully you at least get the picture with those two examples 😂

I love the idea of sex being fun and silly sometimes and thought it would be really sweet with Bucky :)

18+ This is so cute. I love all of this so much. Awkward sex positions. Queefs. 

Bucky giggled.

Giggled.

You looked up at him with curious eyes, a devilish little smile flashed across your face as you went back for the same spot. Your lips nipped and teased his neck where he was most sensitive, making him squirm and wriggle under you.

"It tickles!!" He tucked his chin against his chest, his face flushed from smiling while you straddled him with an amused look on your face.

"I didn't know super soldiers were so ticklish" You grinned, poking his side, making him yelp. He grabbed you and flipped you over, trapping you under him.

"Mhm, and what about you baby" You squealed at the feeling of his beard rubbing in the crook of your neck, desperately trying to wiggle away from him while he held you down, laughing and nuzzling his face into your more. "Do I get to feel all of you now sweet girl" 

He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours, his hard length pressed against your tummy, precum making a mess on your skin. You moaned softly, nodding and spreading your legs for him.

"Ow" Your face scrunched slightly, as he spread your legs a little further, your body not as warmed up and flexible as since it was still earlier in the day. 

"Sorry sweets, you okay?" You hummed as he pulled your legs to wrap around his waist, pushing his cock into you slowly. "You feel perfect angel" He started off slow, feeling your body with his hands, smiling against your skin each time you clung onto him harder. 

"Faster baby" You moaned, pulling him down to kiss his sweet lips, your arms draped around his shoulders. He pounded you against the mattress, his cock slamming in and out of you, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in. 

"Come here baby" He pulled out of you, yanking you and bending you over the bed, stuffing his cock right back in you to fuck you from behind. 

How you hated the switch from missionary to doggy.

You adored how Bucky could hit your exact spot, except it usually also came with him literally fucking air into you in the process. You blinked, groaning at the way your body just refused to cooperate while with each thrust, the sound that kept escaping your pussy wasn’t something that could be hidden. 

Bucky giggled. 

With each thrust, he couldn’t help but snicker at the sound while admiring the soft flesh of your ass jiggle each time he pulled your hips back. 

"Did you just laugh?!" You couldn't help but laugh yourself, your boyfriend trying to hold in his little giggles while giving you gentle thrusts.

"Can't help it baby" He shrugged, massaging your thighs, his mind now wandering to something else he had wanted to try for a while. "Can-can I fuck you against the wall?"

You blinked back him while he bit his lip, hoping you'd say yes. He was still learning about things he enjoyed during sex and you were the safest most loving person he had ever been with. 

"Don't drop me Barnes" You nodded, standing up and padding over to a wall that wasn't near anything so you wouldn't knock anything over.

"I won't drop you" Bucky scoffed, you weighed nothing to him. It wasn't until you were in his arms did he realize it wasn't weight that was an issue and that there was an art to fucking one against the wall.

"How-how do i-" He grunted, lifting you with both arms, when realizing he wasn’t skilled enough just yet to put his dick in you without using his hand. He tried for a second, awkwardly rubbing his tip against your pussy while you held onto him for dear life, unable to understand how anyone enjoyed this position when it took so much effort. 

“Is it in yet?”

“I would know if it was in Bucky” 

“Damn right you would” Cocky bastard. 

“Will you stop priding yourself in your dick size for a second and just use your hand to stick it in” 

“Greedy now aren’t we” 

“Barnes, just use your hand to put it in and fuck me” 

Bucky snorted, managing to shift you so he held you up with his metal arm, lining his cock up with your entrance. He pushed into you, both of you gasping at the feeling as he filled you, both hands now gripping onto your ass and thighs. 

Once he got into the rhythm, he couldn't help but lose himself, loving the way you moaned and fluttered around him, the soft thumps against the wall only spurring him on more. Now you understood why people loved this position. 

"I'm gona-f-fuck I'm gonna cum" He moaned, his cock throbbing, fucking you faster, sweat beading at his forehead.

"Hold it, fuck keep going Bucky! Don’t stop-" You whined but it was too late, fuck you felt too good.

It was like a cum now button as soon as you told him don’t stop, keep going, his balls tightened against his body, cum bursting out of his cock, spilling his load into you. 

"I-HNggg-FucK I’m cumming” He moaned, stilling his movements, panting while still holding you up. "Sorry" He blushed, smiling shy at you while you snorted, shaking your head. 

"I told you to keep going!"

"Well, why do you feel so good" He rolled your eyes, carrying you over and dropping you onto the bed, throwing your thighs over his shoulders, pressing a sloppy kiss onto your soaked clit. 

"Now hold still while I make you cum pretty girl"

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[desceros]

me, innocent, a victim: [goes to look for something in my phone's photoroll] me: [is violently assaulted by gb art] donatello/reader; gn reader; rated t

When you open your eyes, you see, to your shock, Donatello. 

Well. It’s hardly surprising that he’s in your bed, considering he’s been getting pretty good at the whole mind-melting orgasm thing. Maybe half of the nights of your week lately have ended up with your eyes drinking in the sight of him caging you in, your wrists aching with the tightness of his fingers holding them above your head, and your ears singing with the sound of him whining your name when he comes. It’s incredible—he’s incredible—and you’d be pressed picking a time in your life you’ve been happier.

But this. This is… new. 

He’s not wearing his mask. That’s the first thing that catches your attention, once you’re able to move past the totality of his presence in the gentle rays of dawn streaming through your window. He looks… softer, somehow. Different. There’s a closeness to him, physically, literally, that makes you tremble a bit in your very skin. Like you’ve never really been with him before, absurd as it sounds even in your own head. He’s touched you the way no one else has—the way no one else ever, ever will, if you have your way about it—but this. This. 

God. He’s beautiful, you think, gazing at each inch of his uncovered skin and searing it to your mind. You’ve always been attracted to him, but here, it takes your breath away. The curve of his beak beneath his eyes, the angle of his jaw, the squish of his cheek where he’s sleeping on your pillow, the little puffs of air that snooze out with each breath; all of it entrances you, making your lips quiver. 

Slowly, gently, almost hating yourself for it, you reach out. An impossible temptation to resist. The very tips of your fingers on his face, tracing from temple to chin, over and over as you memorize this unseen part of him. Odd, how it feels like you’re pining, yearning for him, when you still feel the aches in your body from how thoroughly he’d had you last night. 

…Though, you suppose, that was him having you. And this is—

—this is you having him. 

Donnie’s lips curl at the corner, and you know you’re busted. Suddenly shy, you fight the urge to pull away, to pretend you weren’t consuming the sight of him. It’s a vulnerable feeling, but you’re rewarded when he opens one eye, blearily meeting your gaze. 

“…Aren’t you usually the one nagging me to sleep?” he says in a mumble, causing you to smile sheepishly. 

“I… couldn’t resist,” you admit quietly, your touch garnering a bit of weight now that he��s awake.

“Had to check and make sure I was real under my mask?” he teases, and it’s tempting to follow him down the path. Tasting bravery on your tongue, you resist. 

“Too handsome not to,” you tell him honestly, cupping his cheek with your palm. You feel the hitch in his breath, the warmth that spreads onto his cheeks even as his scales don’t allow for a blush. “Needed to.” 

Donnie stares for a moment, then gives a breathy laugh, reaching out to grasp your hand from his face and bringing it so he can press a kiss to your palm. This, too, is new—this quiet, non-sexual intimacy. It makes you feel warm, a bit like you’re the one who’s been basking in the sunlight, not him. 

“You’re obnoxiously romantic in the morning, huh?” he murmurs. He doesn’t sound displeased. Giddily, you wiggle closer, feeling him reach out to slide a hand to your back to help pull you close, until only a sigh separates your face and his, your legs so tangled together only the roughness of his scales tells them apart.

“…I could be obnoxiously romantic all the time,” you tell him, looking between his eyes as the other opens, seeing the tender expression on his face. “…If you wanted me to.”

A comforting, familiar, possessive hand cups your nape, his thumb tracing the soft skin beneath your ear. A dazzling glissando of sensation runs along his touch, making your eyes flutter for a moment before you lick your lips and focus on him again. 

Finally, he smiles, an honest little thing that transfigures your heart into a tiny hummingbird. “Yeah,” he says, his tone as warm as the coming morning. “That… sounds great.”

And then, as if sealing a promise, he pulls you close for a kiss even softer than the sheets that ensconce you both. Humming into it, you melt, nuzzling his beak with a lustrous glow beneath your skin. Then—slowly, gently—your fingers again find unmasked skin, loving, claiming, confident now in the long rays of dawn.

[beautouslysandy]

Truly Yours-1

Mark Sloan x GN!Reader

By-Sandy <3

-You and Mark Sloan have been together really since high school, you guys were on and off for a while at least till you went to college then things smoothed out and you and him have been together for the long run ever since, or so you thought. -You have known Derek and Mark since junior high you were a close trio of best friends, y'all were inseparable. "You are un..unbelievable!" You screamed as hot tears ran down your face.

You and Mark were standing apart from each other, he had a look of guilt and regret. You had just learned that your husband slept with Addison Montgomery-Shepard, your best friend's wife, you felt betrayed, used, oblivious, and foolish.

"Babe...I am sorry, I am truly sorry." Mark said with a look of guilt plastered onto that ridiculously handsome face of his.

You scoffed and took deep breath trying to compose yourself but as expected you failed..."I am sorry?! You have taken my heart out my chest, hit it with a hammer and threw it out the window!" You sobbed and said "You have thrown my love away like its nothing..." You sniffled and took a deep breath

"Y/N Sloan, I love you more than anyone could ever imagine..." He said softly walking up towards you.

"No, you don't." You said coldly backing away from him.

He froze and put his hands behind his head, you looked around seeing all the moving boxes in your new and fresh home. Y'all just moved in a month ago but haven't had time to unpack fully. Now you had a real reason not to.

"I am moving out..." You stated with a sniffle "We are over." You also stated wiggling your beautiful ring off.

You heard Mark trying to hold back his tears and he failed "Y/N, please..."

"Till death do us part, huh?" You said crying and putting the ring of your dreams on the clean marble kitchen counter. " I will have someone come and get my stuff tomorrow." You said looking him in the eyes one last time, the dreamy blue eyes that drew you in when you met him. You know he is the one. Sorry, that in past tense.

----

"Y/N?" You heard a familiar voice say.

"Huh?" You said coming back from your daydream, you turn to see your best friend, Derek Shepard, y'all have been friends since junior high along with Mark Sloan but he wasn't in the equation at the moment.

"You, okay?" He asked with a face of worry.

Derek met someone a couple of weeks or months ago, he got over the whole spouse cheating thing quicker than you did. You can't blame him he met someone new, someone who was better with him, they made since together. Addison and Derek only knew each other for a handful of years while you and Mark have been on and off since sophomore year of high school. You and Mark had history together, and Mark just threw that away.

"Yeah..." You said with a sigh "Just tired, didn't get much sleep last night.

You and Derek needed to get out of New York, you both got offers at Seattle Grace Hospital. For you it was Head Attending of Ortho (lets pretend Caliee stays a resident, okay?) and for him it was Head Attending of Neruo .

"You have been saying that since we got here..." He said softly looking through a chart of one his patients.

" Yeah Yeah.." You said looking off into a far wondering what your life would be like if Mark didn't tell you the truth, it would have come out one way or another, right?

"Y/N, you need to get over him." Derek said coldly closing the chart aggressively

"I am, on my time..." You said walking away.

----

You were on the elevator waiting for it to get to the surgical floor, you hated elevators, you don't like being quiet in one place for to long, you think to much about your thoughts. And right now, you didn't want to think about what you always thought about...that night.

"I am moving out..." You stated with a sniffle "We are over." You also stated wiggling your beautiful ring off.

You heard Mark trying to hold back his tears and he failed "Y/N, please..."

The elevator doors opened with a ping and you walk out to find Addison Montgomery-Shepard talking to Derek. You hate her with all of your heart no all of your body. Your heart, your pelvis, your spine, your aorta, your brain, your skeleton, and all of the above.

You walked over head high and confident this husband stealing bitch will not get the best of you. You aren't going to burst into tears. No. New Y/N would not. But new Y/N doesn't think about her cheating husband all the time. Thats when it hit you, you haven't officially divorced Mark. Then it hit you again. You had to divorce Mark, your Mark. The love of your life, your other half, your soulmate, the one, your husband, your partner in crime, your person, your best of friend.

You hadn't realized you were standing in the middle of the Surgical Floor, with a tear running down your cheek. You sniffled and tried to make your way past Addison and Derek without getting involved but then again you are involved in every bit.

You walked up to them and look her in the eye and said "What are you, doing here, Addison?" You said faking cheeriness.

She never saw you after the whole thing.

Her face turned white, and she said "Hey, Y/N..." with an apologetic smile.

"I asked, what are you doing here?" You said with a fake smile and saw Derek on the verge of a grin.

"Um..the chief-" She mumbled

"Huh?" You interrupted, Addison for some reason was intimated by you, which doesn't make sense because she let your husband cheat on you with her, sooooo?

"The Chief of Surgery asked if I would like to be the Head Attending of Neonatal Surgery (look it up, it's cool) here at Seattle Grace." She said a little bit louder and confidante.

"Interesting. Derek, we have patient." You said looking at Derek.

"Ah, yes." He said walking to the patient room with you following behind him.

----

It been a generous number of horrid weeks with Addison Montogomery, she has been on multiple of your patient cases. You're going crazy.

You were in the cafeteria with Bailey, she is your only real friend, because apparently Derek is giving Addison a second chance. Ridicloius.

"Thats the whole, story?" Bailey asked as she digged into her lunch.

"Yeah, the worst story that is happens to my life." You sighed biting into your sandwich.

"No. It's a horrible event that happened in your life, there's a difference. Neither is great but there's a difference." She said looking your eyes with seriousness.

"I know, just being dramatic. How are your interns?" You replied putting your sandwich do as you were no longer hungry.

"Their annoying and quite frankly a bit clingy whatsoever but they will most likely do fine."

You laughed at her reply, "They tend to be like that." You found your eyes at Derek and Addison at their own separate table, laughing, like nothing even remotely happened.

You sighed, "I can't watch that, sorry Bailey." You said with an apologetic smile, getting up and grabbing barely touched lunch to throw it away.

"It's fine. Go hop on a surgery, it will make feel better." She said.

"Thanks." You called walking out of the cafeteria.

You were looking over a new patient's chart to make sure you understand and knew the case well. You were on a gurney which abandoned in the halls. You heard some chattering from the front desk as you were hall that wrapped around it.

(By the way, you go by Dr. L/N-Sloan. You used to go by Dr. Sloan fully but...)

"Do you know where I can find a Dr. Sloan?" A distanced familiar deep voice asked.

A nurse at the front desk replied with "Dr. L/N-Sloan? They are in the hall over there."

"Ah. Thanks." He replied with a tone of sadness.

Then it clicked the familiar deep voice, you pondered and pondered who it belonged to...Mark Sloan. It made even more sense, when you and him made eye contact.

I have to get out of here, I have to get out of here. Is what you said in your head as you swiftly walked away but he caught up and grabbed your arm.

"Can I at least say hi, to my spouse." He said softly, turning you around to face him.

[bathroomcube]

you guys would hate the character playlists i make. you would get so mad. it would kind of be a situation similar to john lennon where i just walk out of my house one day and someone shoots me to death. because i put "the wiggles hate each other in real life" on my harry du bois playlist.

[gnomewithalaptop]

I am once again thinking about my Reverse Falls plot bunny where Canon!Dipper switches places with his Rev Falls counterpart

Just hear me out! Like -- the dynamics would be so good. Because in either universe, the twins know each other better than anybody else, right? They've known each other their entire lives! So they'd obviously realize something was up pretty quickly, but the way that goes down would vary wildly depending on the combo you've got going on

That's why I really want Canon!Dipper in the Reverse universe -- out of the two of them, I definitely think he could "fake it til you make it" a bit longer than Mabel, but I also think the potential dynamics between him and Rev!Pacifica and Rev!Gideon would be fascinating to see play out. Cause like, let's be real: that kid can hold some grudges, and he's pretty pessimistic when it comes to people and second chances (at least compared to Mabel). I can see him having a really hard time wrapping his head around the personality shifts and trusting Pacifica and Gideon with anything -- which would only make things harder, since they'd already be predisposed to hating his guts. But also, just the idea of Dipper trying to navigate a strange world where his family is full of manipulative bastards and the entire town seems terrified of him makes my inner ten-year-old extremely happy

And then the dynamics with Rev!Dipper and Canon!Mabel would be playing out in tandem with all of this. And the script is completely flipped from Canon!Dipper's, because Mabel doesn't go into this knowing something's wrong. She has to figure that out for herself from context cues, and like. I doubt "evil mirrorverse version of my brother" is going to be her first guess right off the bat. So you get extra wiggle room for Rev!Dipper to get situated as a quasi-antagonist and start screwing things up, and you get fun hijinks while Mabel and the gang make several very wrong choices about what's going on with Dipper

And like. Okay, so: I've always interpreted Reverse!Dipper as somebody who's very pragmatic -- he's very much an "ends justify the means" sort of guy. Don't get me wrong, he's not as vindictive as Canon!Gideon, but he also isn't particularly sentimental either. He's lived his whole life in "every man for himself" mode (with some small exceptions for his sister).

And then I think about combining that kind of mindset with Mabel's unstoppable wave of optimism and endless harebrained schemes where she tries to make things better for a person she doesn't even know that well. And I think about Reverse!Dipper being faced with this realization that his world is dark and cold and uncaring because that's how he relates to the world.

Let's be real: at the end of the day, both sets of twins love each other so fiercely. It's just that the Rev Falls kids have gotten caught up in all these manipulation games and power plays, and once you get caught up in that kind of cycle, it becomes harder and harder to get out again. So I can see this swap having a positive shift on both the Rev Falls kids -- taking them away from their lives and showing them that they don't have to interact with the world this way

I'm thinking about Canon!Dipper seeing the humanity in Rev!Mabel and talking to her straight the way he did to Pacifica in Northwest Mansion Mystery. I think about how she hasn't gotten to be a kid because of the Tent of Telepathy's whole Dance Mom schtick, and finally getting it impressed upon her that that isn't normal. I'm thinking about Canon!Mabel showing Rev!Dipper it's okay to trust people and let them in. That he doesn't have to treat the entire world like it's out to hurt him, doesn't need to strike first to make sure the other guy never gets a chance to

Anyway. This got so long but -- yeah. I yearn for the Gravity Falls Mirror Mirror episode that exists only in my mind

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Kaleidoskull • Amnesia Was Her Name • The Man In Stripes And Glasses • Marketland • Gadzooks • Knife Fight • The Only House That's Not On Fire (Yet) • The Ocean • The Afternoon • Spring Heeled Jack • Being A Rock Star • Ask For Nothing • The Satirist's Love Song • The Machine • Bill Watterson • Something Glowing • 320x200 • Ben Bernanke • Drinky-bird • Modify • Nightmare Fuel • Sundial • The Wiggles Hate Each Other In Real Life

Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ YouTube

[disgracefulthings]

Someone has asked me to recommend some fics, I don't think this is what they meant, but here is a list of my favorite fanfiction I have read over the years

Harry Potter

Text Talk

merlywhirls

Summary:

Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number.

My thoughts: I don't know if there is a wolfstar shipper who hasn't read this story, but it is amazing. A majority of the story is told through text messages, which is a real creative choice and I absolutely believed the author pulled it off!

I Know Not, and I Cannot Know; Yet I Live and I Love

billowsandsmoke

Summary:

Severus Snape has his emotions in check. He knows that he experiences anger and self-loathing and a bitter yearning, and that he rarely deviates from that spectrum… Until the first-year Luna Lovegood arrives to his class wearing a wreath of baby’s breath. Over the next six years, an odd friendship grows between the two, and Snape is not sure how he feels about any of it.

My thoughts: A fanfiction that explores the relationship between a student and a teacher that doesn't make it romantic??? Hallelujah, never thought I would see the day. Not gonna lie, this is my favorite fanfiction of all time. While I like Snape in the original story, he doesn't develop as a character, like, at all. Which is why I can see why people don't like him, but this story gives him some development, and his relationship with Luna is absolutely heartwarming. And to those fans who think Harry got over his abuse of Snape too fast, I recommend this to you. Not sure you know, but Snape fucking dies in the book (spoilers, I know), and the author makes sure to give Harry some development too. Bring tissues, because you're gonna cry.

The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

we'll get him falling for a stranger (or a catfish)

sweetlolixo

Summary:

Lan Wangji: Yingying? Lan Wangji: Are you busy with class? Lan Wangji: Won’t disturb you if that’s the case. Lan Wangji: (´• ω •`) Wei Ying wants to cry. What jock uses kaomojis? Ever? Or, Wei Ying is hired by a client to catfish Lan Wangji online, as a hot girl, for revenge. Except, Lan Wangji is not the playboy jock he expected...

My thoughts: This is a pure fluffy and hilarious story. If you like it when characters face consequences for their actions, then probably skip this because people do a whole lotta shit and completely get away with it (except Su She, but fuck Su She)

how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat)

bwyn, Yuisaki

Summary:

A new plan hatches in Wei Wuxian’s head. If this nocturnal, bottom-feeding, slimy, invasive mudcat posing as a beautiful actor thinks he can sway Wei Wuxian with animal pictures and a sob story and an unbelievably stilted way of texting with still no dick pictures in the first five minutes of conversation, he has another thing coming. Wei Wuxian’s got it, alright, he has this in the fucking bag. Wei Wuxian plots to expose a catfish using strategic memes and turtle pictures while wiggling his way out of family dinner. Lan Wangji just wants companions.

My thoughts: Another catfishing story?!?! Except not really because Wei Wuxian has issues. Not gonna lie, I've only read this once, but god damn, did it destroy me. I don't reread it because I don't like it, but because I'm afraid of feeling all those emotions again. You know how I said the last story has no consequences, well this one has all of them. Watch Wei Wuxian as he slowly destroys his life, before finally putting himself back together and allowing himself to accept love. Another story you will need tissues for.

A Corpse Called By Name

jaemyun

Summary:

A continuation of zombie drabble! She loses her brother in a hoard of the undead. She finds a corpse wearing his face in a convenience store. The corpse calls her name.

My thoughts: I hate zombie movies, but I am absolutely fine with zombie fics. The story starts like how all good Wei Wuxian stories start: with him fucking dying. Watch a dead man build a family and slowing piece himself back together (metaphorically, he isn't falling apart due to decay)

Scum Villain Self Saving System

Bros before... well everything I guess

Icannotthinkofapenname

Summary:

Shen Yuan tried not to think of his original family too often, his parents, his brothers, and sister… Nope. Done with that train of thought. He’s Shen Qingqiu now. This was a new life, and he has a new family to look after. Sometimes a family consists of 12 martial sibilings and a whole lot of disciples. Just a buncha fluff of Shen Qingqiu, Shang Qinghua, their martial sibilings and the kids. Shenanigans ensue.

My thoughts: Another purely fluffy fic, though I have to mention something I really like about it. You see, I have a bit of a pet peeve when canon divergence fanfiction basically follow all of the important plot points from the original story. This story does that, but it doesn't do the scenes in full and only really mentions that it happened, and I think it's great. I don't need to read about Sha Hualing's demon invasion for the 50th time, let's move on and get to the things that matter! Like Shang Qinghua in wedding robes. Also there's a lot of platonic cumplane, which I could never get enough of.

Recovery

Moonsheen

Summary:

Luo Binghe returns to Cang Qiong Mountain with a grievously injured Shen Qingqiu. The trouble is, it's the wrong Shen Qingqiu. AKA The original Shen Qingqiu gets a happy ending, whether he likes it or not.

My thoughts: There aren't many fanfictions I have found that depict Shen Jiu in all his cruel glory. People usually sand him down, like, 'oh, he didn't actually give Luo Binghe his cultivation notebook, that was Ming Fan', or, 'he was more neglectful than monstrous'. I don't mind these interpretations of Shen Jiu, but I feel like stories are more rewarding when you try to heal the man at his scummiest. Recovery is a multi part serious that slowly shows Shen Jiu recover (see what I did there??) from what Bingge has done to him, while also finally finding happiness with Yue Qingyuan.

We Are Not Wise

Boomchick, Suzoomie

Summary:

When Shen Qingqiu drew Shen Yuan’s soul sword, it felt like being burned from the inside out. The fire wasn’t cruel, but it was still fire—hot and destructive, searing the softest pieces of him.   When Binghe’s fingers touch the hilt, he is ready for pain. Transmigrated into a version of Proud Immortal Demon Way where cultivators manifest their own souls into spiritual weapons, Shen Yuan finds himself sort of kind of…accidentally blackmailing Shen Qingqiu into taking him on as a disciple before Luo Binghe joins the sect. That should give Shen Yuan plenty of opportunities to make sure nothing goes wrong for his favorite protagonist, right? RIGHT!? A story of twists, turns, hope, despair, and soul swords. Written for the Bingqiu Reverse Minibang 2023, illustrated and conceptualized by the incredible Suzu!

My thoughts: The last fic has Shen Jiu healing arc, this one has his father arc. Another story you need tissues for, and for multiple chapters, my god is it hard to read and cry at the same time. Another really good premise that was knocked out of the park by the authors.

pride is not the word I'm looking for

Tossawary

Summary:

Shang Qinghua goes to take a self-indulgent peek at his baby protagonist son and gets a kick to the shrivelled heart for his troubles. He gave up on changing the story years ago! Yet he finds himself helping his protagonist son's adoptive mother anyway. Just this one change won't matter too much, right? One little change leads to more. Shang Qinghua never meant to care, but he becomes invested in making sure that his new family survives the looming plot. With the changes to the world cascading around him, with his position as a traitor pulling him between his sect and a certain ice demon, and with the protagonist growing up so quickly, how is one displaced author meant to ensure that everything turns out all right? A Pre-Canon to Canon Divergence story.

My thoughts: I'm gonna be honest, this is the only story on here that I have not finished. I struggle with reading fics that are 400k words long (and by struggle I mean I don't finish them), but this is a story I come back to and reread (and attempt to finish), mostly for one arc. There is a part of the story where Shang Qinghua help look for Luo Jiahui's (Luo Binghe's mom) missing sister, and it is without a doubt the best arc I have ever read in fanfiction. If you are like me and don't like long fanfiction, I still recommend reading this story at least up to that arc, you wont regret it. I also have to say this is my favorite interpretation of Luo Binghe's mom.

Servant to a Different King

Tossawary

Summary:

As the head disciple of An Ding Peak, Shang Qinghua threw the plot out the window and abandoned his sect, and now he enjoys a luxurious life as Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan's most treasured and trusted advisor, as the happy couple rules over the Demon Realm together with iron fists. He has everything a transmigrator could want. Unfortunately, there's only so long that the Imperial Advisor can continue to avoid another of Tianlang-Jun's favorite underlings: Mobei-Jun, the new Northern King. An attempt on Shang Qinghua's life inside the Underground Palace itself forces him back into the company of the demon who was once destined to kill his character - and who also once promised to kill him if they ever met again.

My thoughts: Another Tossawary story! This time Shang Qinghua saves Luo Binghe's mom (wait didn't that happen in the last one?) and dad (ok, so it's different). A Moshang focus story where Shang Qinghua tries to avoid having an awkward (and possibly deadly) conversation with Mobei-Jun, which becomes an impossible task because he is now his personal guard. I love the cocenpt of having Shang Qinghua work under Tianlang-Jun, and the interactions between those two are always hilarious.

YuGiOh

An Apocalypse Means Nothing Because You Are The World In Which I Live

sitabethel

Summary:

When an old tomb-keeper steals the Millennium Tome in order to raise the dead, the gods are forced to send Atem back to the world of the living to end the crisis; however, Bakura doesn't trust him to save Marik, so the thief finds his own way back. Meanwhile, the goddess Isis makes a deal with a certain dark entity, offering him a soul in exchange for his services.

My thoughts: Ok, it's been many years since I have last read this story, but I still have to add it to my recommendations because of how batshit insane it is. This is a zombie apocalypses story taking place in yugioh, the story where everything is solved by card games. Do you know how they stop the zombie outbreak? CARD GAMES! Like holy shit, this story is crazy, but it's also on brand. I used to be into thiefshipping and other yugioh ships, so if you're like that then I definitely recommend this one.

Annnddd those are my recommendations. Feel free to judge my taste, but I will unapologetically love these stories till the day I die.

[powderblueblood]

BEAUTIFUL!

ronnie ecker recounts the last first day of the worst of her life or i wanted to rewrite beautiful from heathers the musical, hellfire and ice version. warnings: first person narrative (ronnie's pov), swearing, era-typical misogyny, bullying and slurs, mention of eating disorders, everyone's a dick, everyone's kind of gay for lacy doevski. wc: 3.8k

September 1st, 1984. 

First day of the end of your life. It’s hard not to get a little intro-outrospective.

If I was a diary keeping person, which I’m not because I don’t like to leave a paper trail outside my own goddamn academic brilliance, I’d write something like this. 

Dear diary, I believe that I’m a good person–y’know, relatively speaking, if you don’t count that one time I bit that one kid for catcalling me. But, here we are! First day of senior year! And I look around at these kids I’ve known all my life and I ask myself–what happened?

We’re in the hallway, bottlenecking toward the cafeteria. It’s right around lunchtime, so everyone’s getting a real good look at everybody else, categorizing who they hate, who they hate more, who got boobs over the summer. God, do we ever stop slinging shit at each other, even when we think no one’s listening? There’s a constant cacophony in the hallways of Hawkins High.

Freak! Slut! Burnout! Bug-eyes! Poser! Lard-ass!

And no one does anything about it. 

It’s pretty sad, considering where we came from. 

We were so tiny, happy and shiny, playing tag and getting chased.

Freak! Slut! Loser! Shortbus!

Singing and clapping, laughing and napping, baking cookies, eating paste. Especially me. I was crazy for that shit.

Bull-dyke! Stuck-up! Hunchback!

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger, like the Huns invading Rome. “Shit, my bad!” That underclassman I just walked straight into looked terrified. And for good reason.

Welcome to my school, this ain’t no high school. This is the Thunderdome. 

Trailer trash!

For the very first very last time, I crane my head around the swamped hall and try to recall where my new locker is. First star on the right, and I wiggle in my combination and dump my books inside. I take a second, shoving my head inside the cool metal darkness (voluntarily, for once) and mutter, “Hold your breath and count the days, we’re graduating soon–”

“–Christ. College will be paradise, if I’m not dead by June.” 

I crane my neck out. Two lockers up from me, elegant fingers pull open an identical door to mine except hers, of course, already has a vanity mirror hung up inside. She checks her reflection, not like it ever needs checking. One of her faithful little redheads stands beside her, smacking bubblegum so loud it makes my ears pop.  

“You are so melodramatic, it’s crazy.” 

“What was that?”

“Nothing…”

It sucks how the chrysalis of adolescence has made most of us completely obnoxious. I try not to be a sucker for nostalgia, but I can’t help but remember how much easier this was in middle school. Waking up on a weekday didn’t have to be like living in a segment of Creepshow. 

I know, I know, I know, life can be beautiful. No plastic Jesus on my dashboard (or… handlebars, I guess) but I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again… 

Then I get a whole shoulder of dork, right to the face. Bubblegum snaps between snorts, I can see that he’s been shoved my way. Yeah, we could be beautiful…

“Ow!”

Just not today. “Hey, are you okay?”

This Jansport sporting asshole twists his face up right in mine. “Get away, nerd!” Jesus Christ.

The choir of angels go on–I’m just trying to make it to the cafeteria and grab a fucking chicken pot pie. I’m starving, and I could use a little less soundtrack.

Freak! Slut! Cripple! Homo! Homo! Homo! 

But, listen. It’s not a total nightmare. There’s light at the end of the tunnel. Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke or Brown–

–or, NYU, if we’re being really serious. 

“Wake from this coma, take my diploma–” God. This chick’s voice seems to cut through the din of the hallway like a bell, “Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy covered walls and smoky French cafes…”

“Sooo uber pretentious!”

“Watch it, freak!” I don’t even need to turn around to figure out who that’s directed at. But, I’m a little preoccupied with singing my own tune, here! Muscling through to the lunch line, grabbing a tray while I–

“–fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze. Hey, Ronnie!” 

Dude, shut up! I swing around, trying to spot the owner of that very different, very familiar dulcet tone when some duckbill hat wearing dickwad upends my lunch tray. Dressed in Hawkins Tiger green and gold, this is one of many prize dickwads. 

Bear with me, I’m trying to place him.

“Ooops.”

Andy Sweeney. Indiana’s worst point guard… “whose true talent lies in being a huge dick.”

Did I mention before about that lack of filter between my brain and my mouth? I patch it up pretty good most of the time, but sometimes…

“What did you say to me, skank?” Andy demands of me all darkly and shit. It’s scary. Even if I’ve got a foot and a half on him.

“Aaah!” I recoil, looking at his flexing fists, “Nothing.”

I back up from him, way way up, leaving my mess of a lunch tray on the ground. Even though that makes me feel shitty–when did I become the guy who left stuff for the already harangued janitorial staff to clean up? 

We were kind before; we can be kind once more… 

Head down. Stalk through. Find the Hellfire table. But, not before someone chucks me lightly on the arm. 

“Agh!” I holler before I register him. I am totally on edge. “Hey, Eddie.”

“Hey,” he grins in a sardonic way that says I cannot believe we’re putting ourselves through this again. 

Eddie Munson. My best friend since pre-pube. The closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother, unless Granny finally lets me get that gecko I’ve always wanted. I’m almost eighteen, for Chrissake, I should be allowed. 

Anyway, Eddie rocks. We know this. Look at him. 

“We still on for movie night?” he asks.

I beam. Our first day of school comedown tradition. “Shit yeah, you’re on Jiffy Pop detail.”

Eddie’s got a little pep in his step and it jangles his wallet chain. Dude can’t help but attract attention– almost all of it unwanted. “I rented Evil Dead.”

“Hohoho, again? Wait, don’t you have it memorized by now?”

“What can I say?” Before I can even warn him, Eddie’s backstepping straight into– “I’m a sucker for a gory ending.” 

“Eddie Munson, king of the trailer park! What, you didn’t qualify for free lunches this year?”

A hand comes down hard on the age-old tin lunchbox Eddie’s carrying. The clatter it makes against the lino makes me want to cover my ears and hide, especially when I see Eddie’s face. Total resignation. It’s humiliating. 

This guy?

Tommy Hagan. He’s the smartest guy on the basketball team, which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Too goddamn easy, man!” he guffaws, and I would try to figure out what farm animal he most resembles, but apparently I’m too busy–

“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!” –being the hero.

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” Tommy also tries to tower over me, but I’ve got a decent number of inches on him too. 

My cheeks blaze.

“Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend. You’re a high school has-been waiting to happen. Tell me, Tommy, do you actually have a personality outside of sticking your nose right up Steve Harrington’s ass?”

Tommy gets closer and closer. So close that I can see the nose hair move as he huffs through his freckly nostrils. His finger points right between my eyebrows.

“… you have a zit right there.”

Cue rapturous laughter from the peanut gallery. 

Dear diary…

Why do they hate me? Why don’t I fight back? Why do I act like such a creep? Why won’t he date me? Why did I hit him? Why do I cry myself to sleep? 

Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me!

Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope here! Something to live for!

The doors of the cafeteria burst open and Tommy’s attention is thankfully wrenched away from me. Everyone’s attention is wrenched away from me. Because we’ve all been waiting for this.

They enter the caf in a solid formation, so solid that people part for them. Some gazing, some gawping, some glaring. The name calling ceases, the bullying pauses. 

This is the royal court. They float above it all. 

Tina Burton, head cheerleader. Her dad is loaded. He sells engagement rings. 

Heather Holloway, runs the yearbook. Badly. No discernible personality, but her mom did pay for implants. 

Even the lessers are notorious. Carol Perkins has been having sex since, like, seventh grade. Cass Finnigan’s been pretending to save it for Jesus but giving a backdoor key to whoever buys her peach schnapps. Nicole Summers invented three new slurs last year alone. 

And finally, Lacy Doevski. 

The Almighty. 

She is a mythic bitch. 

These girls, they’re solid Teflon. Never bothered. Never harassed– 

“I would give anything to be like that.”

And I know I don’t sit in that thought alone. Glancing around the tables, the coagulation of cliques, I can hear the desire coming from my classmates. 

I’d like to be their boyfriend. If I sat at their table, guys would notice me. I’d like them to be nicer. 

“What’s the over-under on one of those harpies getting kidnapped, taken to some abandoned warehouse to be photographed naked and left for the rats?” Eddie mutters into my ear as we slam ourselves down at our regular table. 

I roll my freakin’ eyes. “I told you that your Barb Holland theory was insane.”

Eddie shrugs, flipping open his recovered lunchbox. “Just sayin’... They never found a body. Anyway, my money's on the ice queen. If everything they're sayin' about her dad is true, she is prime ransom material.”

“You are so unnecessarily twisted.” But my eyes are still following the crown jewels. I notice that Lacy, Tina and Heather all rise to the girl’s room immediately after they finish their minimal lunch. 

I interrupt Eddie and Gareth’s too-intense-for-lunchtime debate about the morality of posthumously publishing The Silmarillion. “I have to take a leak.” 

As I gently push the door of the bathroom open, I can see Tina standing nervously at an open stall door. Heather is ralphing like her life depends on it. The reptilian arch of Lacy Doevski is bent towards the mirror, touching up her lipstick. 

“Grow up, Heather,” Lacy says in this voice that could weirdly be misconstrued as concerned,  “Bulimia is so sophmoronic.” 

Tina grimaces. “Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather.”

From inside the stall, Heather’s voice echos. “Yeah, Heather– I mean, Tina. Maybe I should.” 

I’m about to open my mouth, say something about ginger ale or peppermint tea, but Mrs O’Donnell enters behind me. I dive into a nearby stall, pretty confident I haven’t been spotted. But, I leave just enough of a crack in the door to watch everything that unfolds out there.

“Ah, I should have known–”

Heather vomits again. Damn, how can she pull trig so much on so little?

“–the witches from Macbeth always travel in a trio.” Her heels click over the cracked, yellowing tile, but the way Lacy turns from the mirror gives even O’Donnell pause. “Perhaps you didn’t hear the bell over all the vomiting. You’re late for class.”

Hey. Idea. I dig around in my backpack and scribble on a piece of paper, leaning against the bathroom door.

“Heather wasn’t feeling well.” Lacy says. Again, confusing enough to sound kind! “We’re helping her.”

O’Donnell chuckles all airly. Like she’s any match for her. “Not without a hall pass, you’re not. Week’s detention.”

That’s my cue. I scurry out of the stall, presenting O’Donnell with–

“Um, actually, Mrs O’Donnell, all four of us are out on a hall pass.” I gulp and glance at Heather, who’s finally hauled herself off her knees. “Yearbook committee.”

It’s super hard to breathe as O’Donnell inspects my handiwork. It hits me that this could go horribly, horribly wrong, and I can feel Lacy’s eyes boring into a hot spot on the back of my head.

O’Donnell arches her eyebrow. “I see you’re all listed. Hurry up and get where you’re going.”

She goes to hand the note back to me, but Lacy intercepts. Once the coast is clear, she takes her time looking it over. 

“This is an excellent forgery,” she tells me. A drop of freezing sweat runs down my back. “Who are you?”

“Uh, Ronnie– Veronica Ecker,” I stumble. “We were lab partners last year?”

Lacy’s eyes narrow. She doesn’t remember taking the lead on coolly dissecting a frog in front of me, it seems.

“Doesn’t matter. I crave a boon.”

She holds her glare on me. Jesus, why do I feel like I’m about to have my throat slit? “What boon?”

“Um. Let me sit at your lunch table. Just once. No talking necessary. If people think that you guys tolerate me, then they’ll leave me alone…”

What? It worked for Nancy Wheeler. Even if she had to boink Steve Harrington to do it, but I can't quite stretch that far.

The girls all chorus in laughter at me. Oof. 

“Before you answer, I can also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes.” Dude, I cannot tell you where this boost of bravery (or foolhardiness) is coming from.

“How about prescriptions?” Heather asks.

“Shut up, Heather,” Lacy cuts. 

“Sorry, Lacy.”

Then, she zeroes in on me. Takes slow steps toward me, just like Tommy Hagan did. But her stare is tearing strips right through me. I even freaking hunch as she gets closer.

“For a greasy little nobody,” Lacy says, her voice dropping low so I have to strain to hear her, “you do have good bone structure.”

Tina and Heather must already be tuned into this Lacy-only frequency.

“And a proportional body,” Tina adds. “If someone didn’t catch you during a basket toss, you’d probably only kind of fracture your spine. That’s very important. 

“Of course, you could stand to de-hobo your wardrobe.” Heather goes so far as to flick the flappy pocket on the front of my overalls. “Salvation Army much?”

“And ya know, ya know, ya know…” the shiniest jewel in the crown hums, tapping her lipstick tube against her cheek, “This could be beautiful.” Her painted fingers pinch my chin and turn it down toward her–because I’m fucking tall. “Mascara, maybe some lipgloss and we’re on our way. Get this girl some blush– and Heather, I need your brush. Let’s make her beautiful.”

A manic looking Tina produces a vanity bag out of absolutely nowhere. “Let’s make her beautiful…”

“Let’s make her beautiful?” Heather snarks, but Lacy shoves a hand in her face. 

Her eyes turn on me again. Dark and sparkly and… and… smiling. At me. “Okay?”

“Okay!”

Then, whaddaya know, smash cut, it’s the next freaking day. I don’t know how that works, but I don’t see another goddamn narrator so pipe down. 

The halls are their usual shitshow– Billy Hargrove shoves the new Hellfire freshman, Gareth, into a locker. Eddie hauls him up by the collar and they run headlong into a gaggle of girls, who all scream because every nerd that plays a fantasy game is contagious. 

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

“Get away, pervert!”

“What did I ever do to them?” Gareth yelps, exasperated. Hard not to feel bad for the kid.

But Eddie’s sage about it, even though he knows it’s as unfair as I do. “You’ll get used to it, freshman.”

“No, dude!” Gareth pushes back, verging on a panic attack, “Who could survive this! I can’t escape this–I think I’m dying!”

O’Donnell, hot on the tardy check, appears behind the both of ‘em. “Who’s that with Lacy?”

“Damn. Someone got a welfare increase,” Nicole Summers hatefully snarls.

“Who’s the babe?” says Andy Sweeney.

But Eddie Munson, oh-ho, Eddie Munson settles his eyes into slits. Anytime, any place, he’d know–

“Veronica?!”

“Veronica?” Cass and Carol caw.

“Veronica?” Steve and Tommy mimic. 

And Lacy Doevski… she looks to her dutiful right, and smirks. “Veronica?”

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful! 

My whole life, I haven’t had a choice but to be one of the boys. My best friend’s a boy. I’m in a band with all boys. I’m surrounded by boys all the time who make gross boy jokes and do stupid boy shit. Nobody, not even my Granny, even though she fucking rules, ever asked me if… if I wanted to put on a skirt and get my goddamned nails painted. And it’s not as if I mind being on the more masculine side of things but, shit, is it so wrong to want something? Even if I believed what I was pretty much dragged up to believe, by all my friends and the world at large around me–that being a chick was totally dumb. Couldn’t I try it on?

You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! 

Lacy beckoned me into her walk-in closet, which was about as big as my bedroom and smelled of gardenia, and put me in a pleated skirt set that she said didn’t fit her temperament anymore. ‘But it’d work for a novice.’

Ask me how it feels, lookin’ like hell on wheels–

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Eddie seethes as I pass, carried on the cloud of Lacy’s perfume.

‘My god, it’s beautiful!’ I’d said, spinning around in the stupid, flippy skirt. 

“Those bobbleheads totally morphed her!”

‘I might be beautiful!’ I mumbled, fingering the diamond studs she put in my ears that she made Heather pierce.

“She looks like–like–” Gareth chokes.

And when you’re beautiful…

“A girl!”

… it’s a beautiful fuckin’ day!

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Now, at first, I think I’m fucking flatlining, expecting to wake up with goddamn tubes down my throat and shit– but I’m not. I’m in my regular old bed, with my regular old alarm clock screaming at me. I smash my hand down on it and jerk up, out of the covers.

First place I go is my wardrobe. 

I feel the physical sensation of my heart dropping like a lead kite when I flick through my old thrift store samesies and Granny Ecker hand-me-downs to find no such minty plaid skirt set. 

Just a dream. 

Which is such a bullshit conceit. Sorry to break it to you. 

I admit defeat and pull on my overalls, scrunching my ballcap over my head and muscle out the door. I’m already late, for me. 

But–then, there’s an apparition hovering at my mailbox. 

Someone who excitedly takes notice and waves when she catches me staring, arm stretching out of her fur-trimmed peacoat–which is looking a tiny touch shabbier than it used to these days. 

“Happy early acceptance day, asshole!” Lacy Doevski sing-songs. Sing-songs. Which is… something I have to readjust to, given the liminal version of her I just experienced.

“Oh.. jeez,” I mutter, feeling dazed still, “I forgot that was today.”

Lacy’s brow gets all pinchy. “You okay? You look like steamed dogshit.”

“Thank you so much,” I drawl sarcastically, “It’s nothing, I slept funky. Where’s Eddie?”

Lacy shifts in herself a little, tucking hair behind her ears and avoiding my eyes. “How should I know?” Right. That. The daylight version of this little tryst they pretend they’re not having. Honestly, if the two of them would just bang it out– well, maybe things might be worse off and this weird little platonic ménage à trois of ours would be totally ruined forever, but at least I’d have to stop tiptoeing around them. “Come on, are you gonna open it or what?”

Oh, right. There’s a whole gravity of a situation supposed to be happening here.

I kind of feel the saliva gathering at the hinges in my jaw, you know the way you do when you’re about to puke your guts up? But then, I remember. Bulimia is so sophmoronic. 

I yank open that rusty mailbox and a thick, thick envelope with a New York University imprint sits inside. I yank it out.

Lacy stares at me like I’m the dude holding the thing the Ten Commandments were written on. 

I’m not drawing this shit out. I am not teasing myself, dude, you couldn’t pay me to–savagely, I rip the envelope open, which makes Lacy cringe. She probably has a little knife for these sorts of things, knowing her. 

Dear Veronica,

Congratulations! I am delighted to inform you…

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Well…?”

I thrust that hot, heavy paper right into that pretty girl’s face. “Full. Goddamned. Ride.” 

Lacy gasps, grasping the letter so hard it leaves claw marks. Her eyes shake back and forth, reading and re-reading the whole acceptance ream. It’s weird, and I know it’s weird, but I’m standing there, looking at her and trying to make her make sense with the Lacy that showed up in my dream. That girl existed, and she was mystifying, in a horrifying way. A total reign of ice cold terror. But now, I’m staring at Lacy, who’s all short, weird angles and specific enthusiasm and… it’s hard to see how those two girls ever lived in the same body. 

She’s a little Whitman. She’s got those multitudes. And, actually, so do I.

“I knew it!” Lacy hisses, “And I want you to know that I’m not at all bitter. While I should be celebrating early acceptance with you, I’m glad–”

I grin at her. “You’re a little bitter.”

“Fine, I’m a little bitter, but I’m mostly excited. New York City, Ron! That’s transformative!”

“Yeah… speaking of. Lacy?”

“Yes?”

Dreams are meant to be prophetic and shit, right?

“Doyouwannagivemeamakeover?”

She cocks her head at me. She still hasn’t let go of that acceptance letter yet. “What?”

“Do you.” I take the envelope from her hands. I know she’s capable of identity theft. “Want to give me. A makeover.”

“Huh?” Her fingers stay curled around imaginary paper. Oh, my god.

“You heard me! And I hate repeating myself!” I flail a little. I get like that, quick to bug sometimes. “Look, you said it, New York is gonna be… transformative. I’m going to be a freaking lawyer, dude, fingers crossed, all going well.”

Lacy nods, not a hair out of place, with perfect confidence,“You are.”

“And when was the last time you saw a lawyer wearing fuckin’ overalls?! Huh? The people vs Howdy Doody?”

“I like your overalls.” I know she’s saying this because it’s the right thing to say, and she’s been practicing doing that really hard. She also might like them now, after repeated exposure, in a Stockholm syndrome sort of way. 

“But they don’t scream esquire,” I impress upon her. And it’s true. I truly do believe that I can’t set foot in New York fucking City looking like I just fell off the back of a turnip truck–nor do I want to. 

It takes a big fat beat, but her face changes. Lacy looks almost dastardly–dark, sparkling eyes like Lacy from the dream. She looks me right over, making the calculations of how to reupholster tragically unfashionable me in her mind. And then she arches her eyebrow.

“Well, remember… you asked, Veronica.”