#<- stealing my own tags about this because im right and i should say it

[darlingdaisyfarm]

───୨ৎ praise that old man, girl!

a/n: i adore Stanley Pines and apparently im not alone because the amount of asks i got for nsfw with this man?? who am i to deny the people what they want?? also one anon asked for public sex with Stanley sooo here you go angel!

tags: nsfw, smut, vaginal and oral sex (f receiving), age gap, dirty talk, older man/younger woman, degradation + praise, size kink, dumbification, public sex, rough sex, breeding kink

You hadn’t exactly walked into the Mystery Shack with dreams of employment. Stan had hired you on the spot, half-serious when he said he couldn’t afford to be picky. “you got a pulse? can count to ten? good, you’re in,” while shoving a broom into your hands.

You’d been working here for a while now and Stanley Pines had somehow, against all reason, taken a liking to you. You weren’t like the other employees, you were sarcastic and always ready with a quick comeback. It didn’t take long for Stan to notice and he loved the fact that you didn’t take his shit. He loved how you could dish it out just as good as he could.

You genuinely liked your work. The old place had its charm and Stan, despite his grumpy act, was actually funny in his own way.

You were sharp, quick with the same kind of deadpan humor Stan wielded like a weapon. when tourists asked the weirdest and dumbest questions as “how does this yeti paw feel so real?”, you’d shrug and go, “oh, Mr. Pines wrestled the guy for it last spring! you should’ve seen him in the ring.”

And somehow, your nonsense never grated on him.

He’d grumble about you “driving him crazy,” but the truth was, he admired how you handled people, how you could spin up a lie on the spot and sell it with a sly smirk. Even when you worked him up, you had a knack for knowing how to make him laugh before he could stay mad.

Like the time you’d swapped the “do not touch” signs in the gift shop with ones reading “please steal this.” When Stan stormed out of his office, you barely flinched. “don’t blame me. Soos did it,” you’d said again and he’d folded his arms, sighing.

“Kid, you’re gonna give me an ulcer.”

“Then you’ll get to take a vacation, Mr. Pines.”

You had a way of making him feel younger, somehow. Not just the old man with a bad back and a million regrets. Around you, he felt like the guy who still had a chance to make someone smile. And god, he loved that.

Because, god, you talk back, crack jokes, get in his face with that stupid grin of yours. And he knows you know how to get under his skin. It’s annoying and hilarious at the same time.

You’re a disaster of a worker. He’ll admit that to anyone, but for some reason, Stan forgives you. every time. “who did this? who messed up the brochures?” and you always say the same thing “Soos.”

And fuck, he adores it, the way you lie so easily and confidently. He's not mad, but charmed by it. And maybe a little turned on too, but he’ll never admit that out loud.

“You know, i should fire you, right?”

“Yeah, but you won’t, cause i’m too cute, Mr. Pines.”

Stan had wanted to stay mad, but how could he? Every time you messed up, he found a way to let it slide, not because you were good at covering your tracks, but because you always knew just what to say, how to make him forget the shit you’d done. You made it all worth it.

The pick-up lines started a few weeks in. At first, they were awful, so bad that you’d nearly die of secondhand embarrassment. “you must be tired, ‘cause you’ve been running through my mind all day, doll,” he'd say with a lazy wink. and, of course, you’d always have something ready: “you should probably take a nap then, Mr. Mystery, you’re getting old.”

The first time Stanley tried to flirt with you, he didn’t know how it’d feel. He was always smooth, always had a line ready, but it always went wrong with you. “you know, i must be a snowflake ‘cause i’m falling for you.” but before he could even get the whole line out, you shot back, “snowflakes melt. Is that really how you want to end up?”

He’d blink, caught off guard, then chuckle. “smartass.”

But Stan, the bastard, he loved that about you.

He loved how you never pretended to be anything you weren’t. No frilly nonsense or sugar-coating, just honest humor that reminded him of his own shitty jokes. You didn’t back down, never tiptoed around him, and he couldn’t even be mad when you lied about the mess-ups.

His flirts were always the same, predictable, corny, but somehow, Stan delivered them with the precision of a seasoned performer. He would laugh at your attempts to flirt back what made you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. “you’re cute when you’re trying to be a romantic,” you say as you lean against the counter with a teasing grin. “but i’m still gonna need a drink to believe you.”

Stanley grew bolder though. “if I were a few years younger. . .”

“You’d still be a pervert?”

“Nah, just a smooth talker, toots,” he’d grin, trailing his fingers over a stack of papers as you walked past, brown eyes never leaving you

The more you two exchanged these ridiculous lines, the more the tension built. The fake flirting, the dumb compliments, it was a game to both of you and neither of you could stop playing.

The shack is empty, just for now. It's an early morning in Gravity Falls, the aroma of coffee that Stan insisted on brewing too strong fills the air. He was at the counter, organising some brochures for the tours, his usual tourist-trap grin nowhere to be found yet.

Tourists haven’t arrived yet.

You were running a little late today, again. Not that Stanley really cared, but he always pretended to. The man was predictable like that. By now, you’d learned that his bark was worse than his bite, though sometimes, you didn’t mind the idea of getting a little bitten.

You walk into the Shack with coffee in one hand and bag slung over your shoulder, the creak of the floorboards greeting you. Stan was leaning against the counter when you came, scribbling something on his clipboard, his back turned to you. And that’s when you saw it.

He wasn’t wearing his girdle and it was impossible not to notice the soft swell of his stomach beneath his shirt.

Fuck. You swallow hard, trying to act normal, but there’s no stopping the heat pooling low in your belly. Mr. Pines, all thick and broad, strong arms, messy morning hair, his belly curving under his chest, that's just too much

And while anyone else might have held back, might’ve thought better of sneaking up on their boss, you didn’t hesitate. The moment you saw him, your lips curled into a smirk.

He hasn’t noticed you yet.

Stepping closer, your let your hands slide over his clothes until your palms rested against the warm curve of his belly. He jumps immediately, his hand jerking across the paper, leaving a thick, jagged line of ink.

“What the— hey! what’re you doin’, kid?!”

“Just admiring my boss?” you grin wider, leaning into him.

Another grumpy “pfft. yeah, right.” comes your way when Stan moves to brush your hands away, but you just dig your fingers in harder, letting your breasts press against his back.

“You’ve been hiding this from me all this time? What a shame.”

His face burns instantly, bright red flushing up his neck. “dammit, don’t go grabbin’ me like that! i’m too old for—”

“Oh, come on,” you cut him off, crowding him against the counter. “you’re not too anything. in fact,” your fingers dip just slightly below his beltline, teasing. “i think you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“Perfect? hah, are you outta your damn mind? Look at me! I’m no spring chicken, alright? i’ve got—”

“Got what, Mr. Pines?” you interrupt. “nice body?” your nails scrape lightly against your boss, earning a shaky exhale from him. “i like it. a lot.”

“Cut it out, kid, this ain’t the kinda body women go crazy for. You’re wastin’ your time”

You frown. “says who?”

He huffs in embarrassment. “C’mon, you've seen it. I'm too old and- and uh, rough around the edges?”

“Damn, exactly what i like,” his whole body stiffens under your touch. “big strong hands, broad chest and this belly, i want all of it, Mr. Pines.”

“You got a filthy mouth, y’know.”

“Oh, i had a good teacher.” you giggle, feeling him already getting hard. “you ever been touched like this, Mr. Pines?”

Stan exhales hard, irritated and flustered. “‘course I have, don’t talk like I’m some goddamn virgin.”

“Thats not what i meant.” your nails scrape, dragging slow over his belly, over the dips and curves.

He tries to change the tactics then. “listen, sweetie, i’m too old for this shit, alright? you- you deserve some young, pretty guy who—“

“Who what? who doesn’t look half as good as you? who can’t make me laugh the way you do? who doesn’t make me want to do this? i like it thick, broad, strong. You could just throw me around and have your way with me, Mr. Pines.”

Stanley fucking stops breathing. Hes hesitating because he doesn’t want to admit he’s just as fucking hungry for this as you are.

He runs a hand over his face, trying and failing to keep his composure. “You- you’re crazy, y’know that?” but you always knew how to get under his skin.

“Admit it, you’d miss me if i wasn’t here to keep you on your toes.” your fingertips graze his bulge once more and that's it. Stan’s breath stutters in his throat.

“Hot belgian waffles, you better be serious, sweetheart.” he’s already turning, crowding you against the counter, gripping your waist, your hips, your ass.

“Why wouldn’t i be?” you gasp after you say the last word when he palms your tits, kneads them roughly.

“You wanna be fucked like that? like a real man oughta do it?” he leans closer to your face. You nod too eagerly and Stan doesn’t waste a second “we better make this quick,��� while his fingers already yanking at your clothes, dragging you onto the counter, pressing his mouth to yours.

Quick. Ha.

Stan kisses like he’s trying to eat you alive, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You moan, grinding against him, feeling the hard length of his cock pressing into your stomach

You should have known better. Should’ve known better than to touch him like that, to let your fingers linger on the soft curve of his belly as he stood there, all unbuttoned and exposed. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because the moment your hands landed there, the pull was too strong, and you knew that if you didn’t take it now, you’d burn up inside.

“You sure you want this, baby? ‘cause once i start, i’m not stoppin.” you nod, gasping for breath, and that’s all he needs. “good, i’ve been holding back long enough.” he gropes you, touches you everywhere, his hands roaming over your back, squeezing your ass.

“Fuck, these are perfect,” your bra is barely on you before he’s palming your tits, squeezing rough, thumbing your nipples, watching them peak.

He licks his lips, then leans down and latches on. Wet, sucking, pulling noises fill the Shack. You arch, whimper, push into his mouth and he groans. “needy little thing, ain’t ya?” he switches breasts, drags his tongue over the swell, teeth scraping before sucking your nipple into his mouth, rolling it, flicking it.

Stanley Pines, despite his gruff exterior, is a sweaty mess in front of you. A man that had given up, probably, on ever being seen as sexy. That’s what made it so deliciously easy to shatter him. To break that cold shell. Because he didn’t see it, did he? He didn’t see how much his body, his age, even his wrinkles, didn’t matter to you. You just want him to feel it. You want him to feel desired, so badly.

“Fucking hell, yer driving me insane, toots.”

You laugh breathlessly. “don’t be so dramatic, old man. You’re tougher than you look.”

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that one,” he growls as he pushes you back against the counter, gripping your thighs.

His mouth is on you again, kissing down your neck, biting, his tongue leaving hot scorching wet trails that fill your stomach with butterflies. You grind against him, feeling the press of his cock through his pants.

“You want this, huh? want me to fuck you right here, where anyone could walk in?”

“Yes, i need you, Mr. Pines.” your hands grip his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Stanley presses his thick fingers against your underwear, circling your throbbing clit through your panties, drawing soft sounds from your lips.

“Already so wet. Hell, you’re gonna take me so good, aren’t ya? this tight little pussy’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good around my cock.”

You moan, your head falling back, your body arching against him as he works you with his fingers faster, harder.

“Please, please, please, need you!” then, out of the blue, or maybe because you're too lost to even care so you'd mumble everything that comes out of your mouth, you quietly admit. “Mr. Pines, f-fuck, ive touched myself to the thought of you—”

Stanley looks at you. “say that again.”

“I've thought about you, i fingered myself imagining it was your cock.” you say quietly, looking at him with little hearts in your puppy eyes.

“Jesus christ, you filthy little thing.”

“Stan—”

“Mr. Pines.” fuck. the way he corrects you, heat coils in your stomach, between your legs. “You wanna get fucked good, you use the right name.”

“M-Mr. Pines—fuck, please—” his fingers press harder, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clothed clit.

“Soaked. And i ain’t even touched you yet.” you whine, pressing into his hands, your hips twitching. And that bastard laughs. “poor thing, you really need it, huh? sweetie, you’re lucky i’m not makin’ you beg for it.” yet, he forgot to add.

You’re about to retort, but then his fingers slide your panties to the side, spreading your folds, dragging through your wet slit.

“Fuck, baby, dripping all over my fingers.”

“N-need you—”

“Aw, yeah? that so?” he pushes a finger in your pussy so fucking slow, savouring the way your little cunt takes his thick digit, already imagining how perfect it'd be with his cock instead. “tight angel, fuck, so tight.” Stan manhandles you roughly, spreading your legs with his hands, kneeling in front of you, about to devour you whole. You feel his hot breath against your core and when he leans in and his tongue finally licks a long, slow stripe through your folds, you swear you see stars.

“Taste even better than i thought,” he groans, voice muffled against your pussy. His big hands grip your thighs, holding you open as he buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking like a man starved.

“Mr. Pines—oh my g-god—” Stanley keeps grunting and moaning, the vibration sending shocks through your body.

“Fuck, keep sayin’ my name like that. Can’t get enough of you, doll.” his warm tongue flicks your swollen clit and he slides two fingers into you, curling them, scissoring. Your hips buck against his face, but he holds you down with one arm across your stomach. “Stay still, princess, let me take care of you.”

You’re already close and he knows it, his fingers pumping into you faster, his mouth relentless on your clit. You fall over the edge with a cry, your thighs trembling as he works you through it, fingers still moving, tongue still teasing, until you’re begging him to stop from overstimulation, tugging his hair. Stanley pulls back, lips and chin glistening and grins like the filthy bastard he is. “cant believe i’ve been missin’ out on this.”

He stands, towering over you and you reach for him, fumbling with his belt. When the metal buckle clinks loudly in the quiet of the Shack, Stanley impatiently shoves his pants down to free himself.

Your gaze drops and your eyes widen. Jesus christ.

“Like what you see?”

“I’d be stupid not to,” you grin, reaching out to wrap your fingers around him, making him curse under his breath, his hips jerking into your hand as he grabs your wrist, guiding you to pump his hard length slowly.

But you two don't have much time so he holds your panties aside with one hand, lining himself up with the other and with a single thrust, Stan buries himself inside you, stretching you so perfectly it makes your vision blur.

“Fuck,” his hands grip your hips so hard you were sure there will be bruises. “you’re so fuckin’ tight and warm. Goddamn, sweetheart.”

Your response breaks off into a whimper as he starts moving, slow at first to let you get used, his hips rolling into yours smoothly.

“That’s it, take it, baby, all of me.” you let out a soft moan, looking down where you both connected and he grins, pressing his hand against your stomach, where the outline of him bulged beneath your skin. “look at that, i’m so fuckin’ deep, i can feel myself here. You feel it, baby? feel me stretchin’ ya open?”

You nod frantically, your head spinning with every relentless thrust as he stretches you in ways you didn’t think possible. You cry out, your nails raking down his back, your body arching against him as he sets a brutal pace, driving into you over and over again.

“Such a pretty little thing, lettin' an old bastard like me ruin ya.”

You can only nod, your needy voice lost to the pleasure as youre getting fucked that good, right here in the Shack, where anyone could walk in.

He’s watching you, watching your pussy stretch around his fat cock, watching the way you tremble. His big hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, forcing you to take all of him.

“Bet no one’s ever fucked you like this before, huh?” he slams into you again, making the counter creak beneath you. Using his strong hands he keeps you in place as his cock drives in and out of your dripping, swollen cunt.

“C'mon, answer me, baby,” he growls, his hand sliding up to grab your jaw, forcing your glazed-over eyes to meet his. His cock buries deep, hitting that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble. ”didn’t ask for silence. you ever been fucked like this before?”

Your eyes are closed as you shake your head, whimpering. “n-no.”

“No, what?”

"N-no one’s ever fucked me like this, Mr. Pines—”

“Good girl, use your words,” Stan grips your chin and forces you to meet his gaze. “tell me how much you love this cock.”

“S-so much,” you manage to choke out between pathetic whines and mewls, your brain turning into useless mess. “i love it, i love you, Mr. Pines, don’t stop!” tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

“Poor thing, all those boys before me and none of ‘em knew how to stretch this perfect cunt open right.” he shifts his hips, grindings his cock against your walls, making you sob. “bet they didn’t even know how to fuck you proper, huh? didn’t know how to make ya beg?”

You shake your head and gasp, clinging to him.

His hand slides down your body, rough fingers rubbing over your swollen, sensitive clit. “owwh, they never even made ya cum, did they, sweetheart?”

“No, they didn’t, Mr. Pines.”

“Fuckin’ shame. all those useless boys, never knew what they were missin’.” his thumb circles your clit. “but don't worry, this pussy’s mine now, ya hear me? No one else’s. I’m the only one who can fuck ya like this, make ya feel this good.”

“Mr. Pines, ple-please. . .’

“Please what, sugar?” he pants, fucking you so deep you swear you feel him rearranging your insides.

You sob, tears spilling from your pretty eyes. “p-please, make me cum—” Stan doesn’t let up, not even for a second. His cock is buried so deep inside you that you can barely breathe and think, barely do anything but moan and take it like the filthy little thing you are.

“Aw, baby, you gonna cum already? just from my cock stretchin’ ya open like this?” you nod, your body tightening around him. “fuck, that’s right, sweetheart, squeeze me just like that. Never thought i’d get to ruin somethin’ so perfect.” his pace picks up, his cock pounding into you so hard you’re sure the counter’s going to break.

You were supposed to keep it quick. just a little pre-tour fuck as you both said.

But thirty minutes turned into sixty and sixty turned into absolute depravity.

The counter was first, but then Stan couldn’t stop. His cock is buried deep inside your soaked, needy cunt as his hands hold you while he thrusts into you.

"Fuckin’ christ, doll, this pussy’s gonna be the death of me."

You had your legs around his waist, arms locked around his neck, Stanley fucking into you so deep you felt like you’d pass out. But then he lifted you up, didn’t even bother pulling out, just carried you like you weighed nothing, still fucking up into you, and took you across the shack like a man possessed.

“Mr. Pines!” and “so good!” were the only words you knew.

“Thought we were keepin’ this quick, huh?” he grunts. “then why the fuck can’t i stop?”

You can’t even answer because your mouth is too busy moaning, gasping, babbling absolute nonsense while he splits you open, every inch pushing against your soft, sensitive walls, stuffing your tight pussy full.

You arch your back, sobbing, because you need it fast again, rough again, animalistic again. And he fucking gives it to you, by grabbing your thighs, folding you in half and absolutely destroying you.

“Fuckin’ filthy girl, letting an old bastard like me ruin this tight little pussy. Even dreamed about this, ugh, layin’ awake at night, fingers buried in that needy little cunt, wishin’ it was me.”

What can you say except loud “yesyesyes!” gasps? However, Stanley is satisfied with that.

“Yeah? bet you’re never gonna want anyone else fuckin’ you again.”

He doesn’t stop. Every display case. Every fake cryptid setup. Even the damn vending machine.

“You're so fuckin’ wet, doll, i could slide into this little cunt with no effort at all.”

Fake exhibits? fucked over them. That fake monster cage? Bent over it. That dusty-ass animatronic Stan managed to steal? yeah, he fucked you right in front of it, hands gripping your ass, hips slamming into yours so hard the damn thing started moving

Stan literally punched it to shut it up.

But did he stop? no.

“Shut the hell up, buddy,” he muttered to the machine, before shoving his cock back inside you and making you scream.

but the final round?

Staff room.

Both of you panting, sweaty, while he takes you from behind, balls slapping against your throbbing clit, the slick sound of skin on skin echoing through the empty Shack.

Or, well, not so empty anymore, because suddenly you hear the honk of a tourist bus outside.

Stan’s head snaps up. “oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kidding me—”

His eyes dart to the stupid clock on the wall and he actually freezes for a second.

“We— we were supposed to open, like—shit, twenty minutes ago.”

“So? keep going.” you say lazily under him.

“Oh, you’re gonna get me in trouble.” but does he stop? does he fucking stop?

No, no he does not. Instead, he fucks you harder.

“I'm gonna make this quick, baby, gonna fill you up real nice, then i gotta—fuck—gotta get to work—“

But then— “uh, Mr. Mystery?”

fuck.

Stan’s body locks up and you both freeze. The voice is right outside the door. Stanley lets out the deepest, most exhausted sigh. “Uh, yeah?”

The tourist hums. “sooo i was wondering, when does the tour start? we’ve been waiting outside for a while.”

Stan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “yeah, yeah, uh, give me five minutes, kid, i got, uh, got a bad back today, y'know? just need a second to—uhhh—” you clench around him, tight, so fucking tight and his words cut off in a groan.

He glares at you. you just smirk.

“You okay in there, Mr. Mystery?”

Stan forces his voice steady. “yeah, yeah, just—” he grits his teeth. “just need a minute to stretch it out.” he snaps his hips forward, stuffing his cock back into your cunt, deep and slow, forcing you to feel every thick, throbbing inch

You whimper, just to fuck with him because this old man is so funny when annoyed.

“Fuckin’ hell, stop that.” he growls under his breath at you.

But the tourist won’t leave.

“So, uh, what’s the official policy on taking pictures of the fake exhibits?”

Stan’s eye twitches, his hips jerk forward involuntarily and you let out a choked gasp.

The tourist pauses.

“Mr. Mystery? are you sure you're okay?”

Stan immediately shoves a hand over your mouth. “Told you, just back’s actin’ up, kid.”

The tourist keeps talking.

“What do you think the likelihood is of alien activity in oregon? because personally, i think—”

You clench around him again. Stan chokes on a groan, his cock throbbing inside you as he tries to keep his voice normal.

“Listen, kid, why don’t you, uh, go look at the gift shop or somethin’, huh?”

“Oh, but i wanted to ask about—”

Stan loses it

“NOT NOW, KID. TOUR STARTS IN TEN MINUTES. LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE.”

“Ohh. . . Okay?” fucking finally, you hear footsteps and door creaking, that idiot leaving

Stanley slumps forward, forehead against your shoulder.

“Poor Mr. Mystery,” you tease, moving your hips. “just trying to do his job, but this damn girl won’t stop teasing him—”

“Ohhh, you thought you were so fuckin’ cute, huh?” the deep rasp of his voice sends shivers down your spine. His chest is pressed against your back, his weight holding you down while his cock still stuffed inside your ruined cunt. “moanin’ all pretty while i was tryna talk? teasin’ me in front of that dumbass tourist. Makin’ those fuckin’ sounds on purpose. Thought i wouldn’t do somethin’ about it?”

You yelp when his hand grips your hair, yanking your head back just enough to whisper against your ear. “you wanna act like a dumb little slut? then i’m gonna fuck you like one.” after that, Stan pulls out slowly, torturously just to slam back in.

You cry out. No, the sound you make would be better described as pathetic loud whine.

But Stan slaps a hand over your mouth, pressing you into the couch. “uh-uh, pretty, you don’t get to be loud now. you lost that privilege.”

His cock is so deep, stretching your cunt open, filling you completely. Every thrust is hard, brutal, messy, wet. Your pussy clenches around him, sucking him in, greedy for more as you whimper into his big palm. The couch creaks under you, the whole room still eerily silent except for the filthy, wet sounds of him using you.

“Aw, what’s wrong, baby? thought you liked teasin’ me. now you can’t even take my cock?” as you nearly fall from the fast rhythm. Stan laughs against your ear. “thought you wanted me to fuckin’ ruin you, huh? turn this sloppy little cunt into my personal fuckhole?”

You can't even moan as Stan snaps his hips up, hitting so deep it knocks the breath from your lungs.

“What’s the matter, princess? feelin’ a little too full?” his belly presses against your back, his size overwhelming you, his weight pinning you down, making sure you can’t run from him as he grabs your waist, pulls you back onto him, forces you to take every inch. “ this little cunt’s gonna take every last drop, huh? ‘cause that’s what you are, ain’tcha?”

His fingers grip your jaw, turning your head so he can look in your glassy eyes.

“Say it, sweetie. Tell me what you are.”

Your brows knit together. “m’ your dumb little slut, Mr. Pines. . .m’ made to take your cock—” words come out barely coherent through the lewd slap of skin-on-skin filling the room.

Damn right. His hand slides down, finding your clit, rubbing it fast. Your body jerks, overstimulated.

“Too much?” his voice is mocking. “too fuckin’ bad, baby. Shoulda thought of that before you started actin’ like a brat.”

You’re already close again, what is it now, your sixth orgasm? Eighth? You shake too hard in his hands as your cunt spasms around his cock.

“Gonna fill you up, doll. make you fuckin’ mine. you want that? lemme hear you beg.”

”P-please. . . ple, mhm. . .hhng . .” your words muffled against his palm.

“Please what?”

“Please—please breed my messy cunt, Mr. Pines—please, please—”

“Holy shit, baby, you want me to breed this little pussy? want me to fill you so full you’ll be drippin’ down your thighs all day?”

You nod frantically and Stanley feels you smile widely against his skin what makes him laugh. Such a dumb slut you are.

“Greedy little thing. y'know i gotta work today, right?” his cock throbs inside you, stuffing you so full you can feel him in your stomach. ”but fuck- fuck, baby, can’t help it.” his hips snap forward, burying himself completely as he cums, making you feel every pulse, every throbbing rope of his hot seed spilling inside you, flooding your pussy.

Your own orgasm hits so hard your vision whites out, your cunt clenching tight, squeezing him, milking him dry.

“Oh, that's it, baby, there it is. Good little slut.” you collapse, trembling, fucked-out and absolutely ruined.

Stan stays inside you, catching his breath, watching as his cum spills out, dripping down your thighs. He leans down, kisses your neck. “gonna clean you up, sweetheart.”

You blink up at him through tired eyes, dizzy. “with what?”

He smirks. “my fuckin’ tongue.” uh oh, you guess Mystery Shack is gonna open late today because even though Stanley Pines has a job to do, first he’s gotta make sure his messy girl is properly taken care of.

[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 3590

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

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7.

YASMINE It was Crown Jewel day, and I was nervous to say the least about tonight's main event, which involved me going against Liv Morgan for her title. I couldn't believe that I'd be having my first PPV tonight; thinking about it gave me butterflies in my stomach.

I was in my hotel room watching TV while eating some food that I had ordered from the menu that they had in the room. I haven't heard from Jey since we last saw each other, and I started to miss him because he normally doesn't go days without texting or calling me.

That's when I felt my phone buzzing as I grabbed it from the dresser, seeing that Trinity had texted me.

Trin🤭🫶🏽 sent a message.

IMESSAGE 💬 Trin🤭🫶🏽: Hey, girly I was checking up on you to see how you were doing? Minnie🧃: I'm doing fine just nervous about today Trin🤭🫶🏽: girl, you're going to be fine just bring that title home for us Minnie🧃: Trin, you know I got'chu if you want a title shot Trin🤭🫶🏽: fasho girl I know Minnie🧃: also have you heard from Jey? Trin🤭🫶🏽: last time I check him and Jon were heading to the gym together then hangout with some friends before the show Minnie🧃: oh okay Trin🤭🫶🏽: did something happen? Minnie🧃: nah I just wanted to see if you have heard from him since he hasn't text me or called me at least Trin🤭🫶🏽: hm, that's not like him I'll see what's going on but I'll see you later girl byeee love you Minnie🧃: love you too

After texting Trinity, I decided to munch on my food while continuing to watch my show on Netflix. Jey and I have been doing this friends-with-benefits thing ever since we met.

I knew he was my person, my peacemaker, especially whenever I'm feeling down or about to panic. He's always right there to fix it, no matter what, but for some odd reason, I started to feel more for him than I should.

Maybe it was the dick that was making me feel this way about him, not knowing how he felt entirely, but it was odd not hearing from him all day today.

I'll probably see him at work or something, then we could talk about it, hopefully.

✧˚° I finally made it to work, seeing everyone that I was cool with backstage. Meanwhile, I was looking for Jey, hoping that I'd see him and greet him with hugs and kisses like I normally do.

As I was walking down toward Montez's locker room, I caught something. It was Jey speaking to Liv, for whatever reason, so I went behind the corner and watched them.

His energy seemed a bit flirty, and the way he felt up on her like he did with me almost shattered me. I sighed deeply, getting out of the corner and continuing to walk towards my brother's locker room.

Walking past them as Jey made eye contact with me before I rolled my eyes at him going towards Montez's locker room. Maybe he didn't feel the same way like I did.

As I walked in my brother's locker room I saw Bianca sitting on the couch gazing up at me with a smile as I did the same to her.

I sat down on the couch, looking up at the screen and seeing the commutators speaking about the matches for tonight. Bianca could sense my energy seemed a bit off as she nudged my shoulder.

"You okay Minks?" Bianca asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine just nervous about my match for the main event," I said while having flashbacks of seeing Jey with Liv being all up on her.

"Are you sure? You seemed pretty uncomfortable about something," I said, shaking my head and telling her that I was fine and just needed a moment by myself.

That's when I felt my phone vibrating, seeing a text from an unknown number that seemed like they had sent me a picture.

When I opened the message, it felt like my whole world had stopped spinning. It was a picture of Jey and Liv, with him having her in a back-shot position and the message saying, 'Hey, girl.' I didn't want to express those feelings toward Bianca, so I went out to the locker room for a moment, trying to calm myself down before I had a mental breakdown.

How could he? Why would he do this? I went inside the bathroom, went inside the stall, and began bawling my eyes out in silence so that nobody would hear me.

I put my trust into a nigga that would just do me dirty now everyone is going to be looking at me all weirdly.

After I was bawling my eyes out, I opened the stall and looked inside the mirror, touching up my makeup, praying that I wouldn't see him again or anymore. Ion even wanna tell Montez about it. Hell, he probably knows.

I walked out of the bathroom and toward Ms. Kim to check on my gear and make sure everything was okay. When I went that way, I saw Carmelo talking to somebody, but I didn't pay attention to him.

He saw me walking past him and tried to grab my arm, but I quickly snatched it away.

"Are you good, Yasmine? " he asked. I just rolled my eyes at him, wondering why he cared if I was okay.

I just nodded my head and walked away because I didn't want to engage in the conversation anymore. I honestly didn't want to talk to anybody.

Ms. Kim saw me walking toward her, and she smiled at me.

"Hey, Yasmine, I see that you're here for your attire?" She said.

"Yeah, I just wanted to come pick it up so that I could have it before my match," I said as she nodded her head and gave me my attire.

My eyes sparkled with excitement. I love the detail of the gear; it just suited me so well. I thanked Ms. Kim before heading back toward Montez's locker room.

✧˚° I sat in my brother's locker room, lost in thought about what I'd seen while watching the matches on his TV.

I'm still puzzled. What did I do wrong? Did he not see me as good enough? I guess it shouldn't bother me since we're friends with benefits, right?

As I watched TV, a knock on the door signaled someone to come in, but I didn't look at them until they were right in front of me.

When I looked up, I saw that it was him—the person I didn't even want to see at the moment.

My eyebrows furrowed a bit, and I sighed deeply. " What? Why are you in my face for?" I remarked, giving him an attitude.

"Let me explain, Minks," Jey begged as I rolled my eyes at him.

"There's nothing for you to explain, Josh. I thought I could trust you, and I gave my BODY to you. Is this what you do? I understand that we are friends with benefits but damn," I wanted to lash out on him so bad but it just wasn't in me I didn't need this when I have a match coming up.

I got up from the couch, not wanting to speak to him anymore when he grabbed me by the waist and looked deeply into my brown eyes.

Those same eyes that captured me hypnotized me.

"C'mon, don't do this. She doesn't mean anything to me, mama." I wanted to give in so badly, but he didn't deserve it. He can be with her instead of me.

"Let me go, Ion' have time for this. We are only friends with benefits, right? It shouldn't matter anyway; I have a match to go to." I pulled away from his grasp before going towards the gorilla, trying to pump myself up until I saw her walking past me with a smirk.

She was mouthing, "he's mine now," I wanted to knock the brains outta her so bad but I kept it professional smiling at her as her music began playing.

I had to keep my emotions together putting them to the side for right now not wanting to mess up my opportunity to take away that damn belt from her.

My music began to play as the cameraman was next me while I mouthed,��"it's show time yall," while walking out the gorilla hearing the people cheering for me.

Just reminded me when I was in NXT going against Roxanne for her title, I blew kisses to everyone while skipping towards the ring.

"And her opponent from Brooklyn, New York weighing in at 148 pounds YASMINE!!!!"

I smiled at waved at everyone giving them a high five before flipping my hair in the process I know that this was getting underneath her skin.

I got on top of the ropes sitting on them while I flipped over them landing a spilt on the ground before getting back up.

"Yasmine is honestly a very talented athlete Cole,"

"I agree with you hundred percent Graves she's going to be the next face of the company,"

I took off my jacket and cap throwing it outside of the ring. I hyped myself as the referee held up the title before ringing the bell.

"1!" "2!" "3!"

"Oh my god! She did it! Yasmine is your new women's world champion!"

"She honestly deserves it,"

I was absolutely stunned when I defeated Liv Morgan. Although Dom and Jey provided some interference, I still managed to emerge victorious in a fair manner. The look of despair in Liv's eyes was evident. Perhaps this was Karma's way of teaching her a lesson, but let's not dwell on that. The referee presented me with the title, and as I held my hand, I couldn't help but feel a pang of pain in my stomach.

Hearing the crowd screaming that I deserved it made my heart warm. I blew them kisses before rolling out of the room and heading towards the gorilla.

I saw Bianca, Trinity, Montez and Jon standing there waiting on me as I walked inside they all came up to me hugging me tightly.

I cried happy tears while embracing them together; I looked up for a second, seeing Jey standing there with his arms crossed around his chest.

He seemed proud of me for what I had accomplished.

"We are honestly so proud of you, baby girl!" Trinity said.

"Girl, ion' know you be doing them moves when you're so little bro," I shrugged my shoulders at her telling her that it's just a skill and learning mechanism for me.

After they congratulated me, I saw Jey walking up towards me, and I rolled my eyes at him. "Can we talk alone?" I sighed softly, nodding my head as I followed him toward his and Jonathan's locker room, which they shared together.

We both made it to their locker room as he opened the door for me to come in first before him while shutting the door behind him. I sat down on the couch, placing my championship next to me.

It was nothing but silence. I don't think I have the energy to deal with this, especially after tonight's match.

"You wanted to talk so speak up," I retorted while folding my arms.

I knew that he liked my sassy attitude, but I was honestly dead-ass serious about this one, hearing a light, dark chuckle escape his lips.

"You wanna fix that tone of yours, little mama?" He questioned me.

"No, I will not fix my fucking tone nigga. I have every right to have this funky ass attitude with yo' ass playing in my fucking face," I was lashing out at him badly, knowing that what he did really did shatter me and now made me more closed off.

"Like, why me? What did I do so wrong to deserve that? When I saw you as my peacemaker, someone I could go to without feeling guilty..." Jey listened attentively, hearing me lash out at him.

"It was a mistake, Minks. I swear it wasn't supposed to go that far." I shook my head, knowing that he was lying just to get out of it.

"It was a fucking choice not a damn mistake, you know my fucking brother trusted you? And now you have broken that trust for some whore," I vented while wiping the tears away from my cheeks.

I got up from the couch, holding my championship on my shoulder and staring down at him deeply, "Maybe I was a fool to fall in love with you, maybe it was dick that was making me feel this way or something, but I hope you and her both have a wonderful life together I'm gone Josh," before I could head out the door I felt him scooping me up by the thighs causing me to yelp as he took us over to his couch keeping me place on his lap.

His arms snaked around my waist, and I placed my championship next to him, wrapping my arms around his neck for support.

"Don't go please minks, You know I love you," Jey said placing soft kisses on my neck.

"If you loved me, you wouldn't be with Liv Morgan now, would ya?" I tried to resist his wet kisses trailing down my neck because I didn't want to give in; that's how it'll make me look dumb.

"She doesn't mean anything to me like you do," I said, turning away from him, not wanting to listen to anything else he had to say.

He continued to give me wet soft kisses on my neck while placing his hands on my ass cheeks squeezing them both.

I didn't know if this was his way of saying sorry it's definitely working because I am starting to give in to this man as my anger started to go away.

My body didn't operate properly whenever he touched me, Jey gazed up at me seeing me trembling under his touch.

"C'mon you know you love this shit," this was manipulation at this point but he wasn't wrong about that. I managed to push him away while getting up from his lap grabbing my title in the process.

"T-this doesn't feel right at all Josh, after you fucked her now you wanna get into my panties? Nah I'm not doing this with you anymore I'm out," I said as I left his locker room leaving him dumbfounded.

✧˚° OMNISCIENT Yasmine been getting a bunch of miss calls from Jey ever since she left the arena, she was in her hotel room with the blankets over her body watching a movie that's when she heard her door knocking.

She groaned deeply feeling annoyed as she got up from the bed while going towards the door looking through the peephole to see who it was.

It was Trinity standing there along with Bianca she opened the door seeing them look at her. She let them in as she went towards her bed sitting on it.

"Girl, what's is going on with you and Jey?" Trinity questioned her.

'What the fuck did he tell them?'

'Ion' even wanna bring his ass up after what he did,'

"I'm not speaking to him anymore after what he did," She said folding her arms in the process.

They both looked at each other then back at her with a confused expression on their faces. "What do you mean?"

That's when she explained to them that Jey had been fucking around with Liv while showing them the picture that she had gotten from Liv's phone number.

They were shocked to say the least even Trinity knowing that Jey was a loyal man but this was something surprising to her.

"Did you at least hear him out?" Yasmine shook her head.

"No, I refused to listen to him whatsoever because he didn't seem trustful," Yasmine replied as she heard the girls sigh.

Yasmine eyebrows furrowed slightly as she looked at them with a perplexed expression before saying something. "What y'all?"

They both looked at each other and then back at Yasmine.

"We feel like y'all should talk things out—" That's when she lost it.

"IM SORRY? I AM NOT GOING OUT MY WAY JUST FOR HIM TO FUCK ME AND THEN BE WITH THAT WHORE LIV. TALK THINGS OUT TUH." She lashed out at them, running her fingers through her hair, feeling frustrated.

"We understand that, but at least hear him out. Minks for us, please," Bianca begged, seeing Yasmine in disbelief.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing right now, her best friends telling her to listen to a man who fucked another girl and played in her face.

The only way she could listen to what he had to say was if he was going through something or feeling bad about it.

"No, no, I'm not going to do that respectfully. I love you guys, but if you're going to take his side, then all can leave." With that, Yasmine got up from her bed and went towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind her as she slid down on it.

Covering herself in between her legs along with muffled cries and tears coming down her cheeks, she didn't want to speak to him.

She didn't want to deal with him any further, but her heart said something different. She knew that he meant well and didn't want it to happen, but it did.

Yasmine knew that she loved him, that he was her peacemaker, especially when dealing with complicated things like this.

She sat there for a while in the bathroom before hopping in the shower, trying to clear her thoughts.

After taking a shower, she put on some comfy clothes while picking up her phone, debating whether to text him or go see him in his hotel room.

Biting her fingernails she looked at the time, all she could think 'damn he's probably sleep right now,' But she decided to say fuck it and go see him to hear what he has to say.

She put on her slippers and Hoodie while going towards the elevator since his room was on the second floor. Yasmine waited patiently for the elevator to go up to the second floor remembering his room number.

The elevator doors opened as she walked out, heading towards his hotel room. When she approached his room, she knocked on the door, waiting for him to come open it.

Yasmine had her arms folded around her chest as she heard footsteps from behind the door. When the door swung open, he was standing there towering over her 5'2 "figure.

He was shirtless, with his Cuban gold chain around his neck. He was also wearing some sweats and his slides.

"What'chu doing here this late, little mama?" He asked, looking around the hallway.

"I came to see you...I wanna hear what you have to say Josh..." Yasmine said gazing up at the fine Samoan specimen.

He nodded his head while stepping aside for her to come into his room as he shut the door behind them. She sat down on his bed, which smelt like him. His scent put her in a trance.

"You want something to drink, little lady?" She nodded her head as he gave her a cold water bottle.

Once he was settled in, he sat down next to her, admiring her features while he placed his hands on her thigh, rubbing it and letting out a sigh. "Look, what I did was wrong, and I didn't mean for it to happen but she kept pushing me and pushing me until I couldn't anymore without even thinking that it would hurt you minks,"

Yasmine was listening to him attentively, gazing into his brown, pretty eyes.

"I was planning on coming to see you, too, but she came in the way, and I didn't know about the picture she took either. Like I said before, you mean way more to me than her," Jey said, intertwining his hands with her small ones.

"I'm sorry, mama, like for real." She looked into his eyes to see if there was any sincerity behind his words, and there was.

She turned around to face him while sighing deeply, "You know how much that hurt me, Josh? Seeing you in that position with her? It felt like a bullet shot me dead in the heart after seeing that," Yasmine heard her voice crack a little bit.

"You're my peacemaker, and I felt like I lost my person," his eyebrows began to furrow a bit when she said that.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

Yasmine was very hesitant to express her feelings to him because she wasn't sure if he felt the same way as she did, so she just left it alone. She opened her mouth, beginning to say something, but nothing came out, so she closed it while avoiding eye contact with him.

That's when he grabbed her by the chin, placing his soft lips onto hers. This caught her off guard, but she managed to catch on as their lips moved in sync.

Wrapping her arms around his neck as he placed her onto his lap, causing her to grind on him while he gave her ass a smack.

"Fuck, I love you so much, Minks, you don't even know," He confessed as her facial expressions became perplexed.

"Y-you what?" She questioned him.

"You heard me, little girl. I said I love you like you're in love with me, right?" His statement shocked her.

Was this true? That he actually loves her?

"You playing right?" Jey shook his head, gazing up at her.

"No, I'm not. I'm serious, mamas; I'm serious about us," that made her heart flutter as she smiled at him, knowing how he loved it whenever she smiled.

For the rest of the night, they made love, embracing each other's scent.

SOMETHING BOUT' US

A/n: sorrrry for the late update I've been busy at work this past week but I'll be updating again but I hope what Jey is saying is true because ion like it when Yasmine is getting played especially after dealing with Mello ass.

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

[noxxiepoo]

hi! i saw your post about jimcurly and i'd like to say it's not for everyone, you're perfectly respectable if it makes you feel uncomfortable. it's certainly a very okay take to have! in that case, no one should ever make you feel bad for that. block the tag if it's what makes you feel better!

however, i think it might make you feel better about it to know that a lot of the people who ship it are very aware of the implications. i was concerned too, and it really exhausted me, but actively seeking out answers as to why they'd want to ship something like that really helped and i figured i'd share my perspective with you :)

i've noticed it very rarely comes with a softening of jim's abusive and predatory personality, and it's generally quite self-aware. they very much did play the same game, and it's just one of many ways they decided to look at the themes and interact with it under

i find it pretty unfounded to worry about these people ending up in toxic relationships of their own and being unable to get out of it: i've seen a lot of toxic pairings to actually be coping mechanisms to cope with older toxic relationships, and many of them come with a deep understanding of it. i get it as someone who has been in one!

if i'm being honest, i'm personally more alarmed by anyacurly that isn't self-aware than jimcurly that is, but honestly, i don't ship any of them because it's all kind of yuck to me.

either way, i think it's completely okay to be made uncomfortable by it. it's a heavy pairing, and i have the tag blocked so i don't see it. it's really their business imo i guess and taking that perspective made me feel a lot less upset about it :^)

(Cutting it here so it doesn't clog dashes!! Happy scrolling y'all)

Thank you!!! I really do appreciate this to no end. I know you won't get notifed when I post this but I do hope you find this. I appreciate the invitation for an actual conversation and wanting to shed light instead of uh the replies.

Im gonna be so real here, made that post at work, posted it, and uh here I am at home staring at my inbox (not including this ask dw!!) with slight confusion. And also being very real here, this isn't an apology post! I do apologize for not tagging it with a content warning, and being crass with my words, though you're gonna get that even if I'm speaking positively about something. Cussing is normal for me and I apologize if I came off as overly angry! I do want to reply to (and not being sarcastic at all here, I promise!! /gen) this anon who is being patient with me.

I do have the tag blocked, and I do feel better now. I'm a little less concerned knowing that people do see the implications and I'm really glad you mentioned it. I can't and won't speak on the coping mechanism aspect, I don't use it to cope and I've never been in a situation like this paring would cause. I will say however that yes, it is unfounded without context to be making broad statements like I did. I mean for those who take it very far. Farther than 90% of those who enjoy the pairing. I know the internet and I know it goes to insane lengths a great many times in the grand scheme outside of this Fandom.

You're 1000% right, I haven't really seen much anyacurly and haven't really gotten around to forming an opinion on it but it seems just as weird for me as this one. I think shipping in the game setting point blank, no aus or shifting of character is very.. off putting and to me depletes every purpose the game was trying to showcase.

And yes! Ship your blorbos I don't care, I don't like it, y'all love it apparently and I opened a can of worms that was unbeknownst to me outside my echo chamber. I made my post because I saw this amazingly worded one

And wanted to give my 3 cents on the topic, and obviously im not gonna repeat what they said in my own post. im not gonna steal someone's analysis.

And stepping away from the ask entirely right now:

this is sooo beyond me. I feel like I said I hate bakudeku and it's 2020. Also i think its funny that I also said jimmy can kill himself on the jimanya post, and im 1000% sure many others on here have said the same sediment. Honestly just block me man, I'm not entertaining anything on here, I have schoolwork and a job. I'm very happy to have a discussion though, like this!

[kxngkasper]

INTRO POST

————————————

Some random ghost tells you about themselves (it’s me guys i’m the haunting spirit)

GREETINGS TUMBLR !!!!! here you will find my bips and bobs of what I do and how i’m working this whole blog thing

Please note that i’m new to this whole blog thing and didn’t really get into tumblr until a bit into this year so i’m still trying to learn how to do things

About me:

I’m kasper, Mostly known as Kas, I go by He/It/She pronouns and am aroace. I’m an artist and animator with dreams of becoming a storyboard artist. My focus is mainly on my health and school so if I cease to exist for a couple weeks that is probably why but other than that i’m trying to be as active as I can since I love sharing my art with people. I’m Neurodivergent, tone indicators are appreciated but not always necessary. My interests are minecraft, Mumbo Jumbo, TØP, Sherlock and Co, Cult of the lamb, Sky cotl, Pokemon, Ponytown, Music as a whole, animation, and OCs :]

My time zone is EST! I’m a first generation Mexican-American and the youngest of 2 other siblings. Yes, Hablo Español pero no soy tan bueno para escribir lo (I am bilingual)

uhhh i’m a furry boo be afraid rahh what else do i put here uh im 5’8 (1.73 meters) my birthday is january 7th uhhh UHHH OH SPEAKING OF BIRTHDAYS AND AGE

I’m a MINOR please refrain from commenting or saying suggestive things to me or about my content it makes me uncomfortable

I’m in the age range of 15-17 take that as you will.

My content:

I stick to posting full pieces and sketchbook stuff on here usually gonna do with my special interests but if you wanna see just vibe w me and see WIPS, reblogs, yaps and such then you can check out my side blog

@princepasker

don’t know why that won’t tag

Where can you find me besides tumblr? Bam I made a linktree because you can find me in too many places https://linktr.ee/kxngkasper

PROGRAMS I USE: Procreate, Medibang paint, Iartbook, Toonsquid, Capcut, Alight Motion, occasionally flipaclip (limited vrs)

TOS (TERMS OF SERVICE):

Please do NOT repost my work, I kindly ask that you don’t use my fandom work in Edits nor reupload them on any other platform. I run my own pinterest, I do not want to see anyone stealing what’s mine for no point when it’s already uploaded.

Using my art as reference is perfectly fine as long as I receive credit. If you wish to trace my work for learning purposes it’s fine but please keep any studies private, thank you.

Ask box:

My asks are mostly always open! You can leave doodle requests in there but I won’t guarantee I go through with it. Questions are also always welcome, I love to see em don’t be discouraged if I don’t get to it right away!

Mutuals feel free to goof off in my ask box

Random stuff:

spam liking is ok !! idm

Alright cool uh that should be it? If I remember anything else i’ll come back and edit this post but for now i hope yall have a good day :]

IM ON PONY TOWN!!

[sluttypatrickstar]

liveblogging the horrors: without merit by colleen hoover (part 3)

(part 2 is here)

okay, sorry, new part bcus i keep posting so much including all my screenshots and stuff. im doing this on my phone otherwise the linking would be to both parts 2 and 1, but i might do a master post with links to all of the different parts later. if you’re interested in following along, all of these posts should be tagged #elijah reads without merit

chapter six

merit once again thinks honor just isn’t good enough for sagan (based on nothing but her own assumptions)

merit calls the name sagan “smart and sexy” and prefers to call him honor’s boyfriend bcus his name is just so attractive. i don’t know what is so sexy about “sagan”.

you ARE being ridiculous actually

merit is more covered up at the pool than honor, because she doesn’t feel as confident (see the above screenshots). i will forgive merit’s problematic thinking above because honestly i think teenagers can and do think like that. what i will NOT be forgiving here is that luck starts bothering her about it and insinuating that everyone has already seen what she looks like under the t shirt because they can see honor. bro you are an adult and her step uncle stop trying to make her reveal more of her body and stop implying that just because they’re identical twins they’re the same person. luck is also trying to therapise her and wants to get to “the root of” why merit is so much less confident and outgoing than her sister. WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW WEATHER BOY. also leave her alone you freak

luck reveals that the reason victoria no longer speaks to him is because he ran away after stealing and pawning all of her jewellery including extremely sentimental inherited pieces. merit uses this as once again a reason to hate victoria for being the stepmom: “Funny how Victoria needs apologies from people, but she’s never once apologized to any of us for tearing out family apart.”

IT TAKES TWO TO TANGO, MERIT, AND ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE IS YOUR FATHER BUT YOU ALWAYS MAKE IT ABOUT VICTORIA AND YOU ARE CONSEQUENTLY SO HORRIBLE TO HER and Barnaby never defends her from merit’s nastiness so honestly i would be in full support of a second victoria divorcing him. she deserves better

INCEST PUKE COMING UP SORRY EVERYONE

merit says that she is not attracted to luck, but bro, why are you even asking that you fucking weirdo!!! i am hitting this man with a bat!!!

merit has been thinking that honor isn’t good enough for sagan this whole time and angsting over him, but sagan brushes some hair off her cheek and she does a complete 180 which is funny

she has SO not been fighting her attraction to him, but i love how she’s like HES DISREPECTING MY SISTER RIGHT NOW AND THATS FUCKED UP. finally some sister solidarity

the chapter ends with more Luck Being Horrifying, including asking merit about her virginity and pressuring her to answer questions about her crush (i think luck knows it’s sagan) in front of all of her siblings (except moby) AND her sister’s boyfriend who she has a crush on. luck you are weird and horrible and i hate you.

[cakejerry]

Ok I'd gladly leave it at that but let me recount my actual live reactions for posterity's sake because i apparently have something to say.

The female vocal run at 0:09 reminded me of another song of theirs (in a good way) or another song I otherwise like, I just can't out my finger on it. The notes that they hit at 0:12 and 0:16 though are Such a perplexing choice like. Idk anything about music theory btw so I use minor/major as terms with my own personal implications but why are you starting off your #thisconcept song with a MAJOR key are you crazy. What are you even trying to channel???? Seventeen in 2015? Got7 just right?? Stealing from nct vault??? Nct from sm??? Digging in THE BOYZ purse??????? Begging pdogg for a crumb of txt reject???? Never heard a song by any of those groups btw but thats what I imagine they sound like like you WANT TREASURE NACHOS??????

Anyways verse 1 there's really nothing I hate more than song that refuse to commit to a concept. Dionysus pt. 2, like what is this half-assed rock hiphop influence sister if the song is going to be sounding like something from nick jr?

Prechorus shimyeoneul wait wait. I believe I might have heard this part of the song before like did they use it for run bts intros or something? Because they should have, intro ahh song. Also tiktok where people use it in an 'oh no no no' sound way like.... Variety show ahh gag but no GRRR it's actually reminding me of something else I heard even longer ago, didn't they pull this straight from a korean tv commercial or something?? Ok when I play it in my head my brain auto mashup function starts remixing weeekly tag me into it which can't be right although the bbujok bbujok part in that song does use vaguely the same beats. But yeah like this is definitely a back to school tj max new season of phineas and ferb type ad jingle idk guys

Anyways jimin autotune we used to pray for days like these. Best part of the song? And I'm not even saying that in a biased way. Because why is the chorus the most dry ass boring ass ruined orgasm ass flat ass chorus EVER????? I JUST BARELLYYY MANAGED TO GET MY HOPES UP WITH JIMIN AND NOW THIS???? biden held my suspense for longer when i thought he was gonna side step right left. Bts you disappointed me quicker than dark brandon. DO YOU GET IT???

This demo ass song should've been on cd3 and kept in the drafts and im dead serious. Bts you went out with a whimper not a bang, congrats on ruining your last chance of saving your lacklustre career. Freestyle ass song, interlude ass song, you're telling me I'll have to sit through a bunch of people pretending to be gagged for a choreo of THIS???? *Cradles all parts of the song that are not the chorus gently in my hands* im sorry.... im sorry i couldnt save you.... you deserved much more and i will avenge you........ Possible reverse 6.5 contender like wow let me look at the promotions they do for this song and judge.

[swallowrot]

temp rules and character bio under cut! (can also be found on my pinned post until my carrd is done!!)

hey im s. or sean. or puck. dont really matter to me! i use he/him pronouns, been writing on tumblr for a while. im kinda shy but i wanna learn about your ocs :))

// 001 : ACTIVITY.         PLEASE DO NOT    pester me for replies: i work full time and have other blogs i run as well. i promise im not ignoring anyone, i just dont have a lot of time to rp! // 002 : TAGGING.         i try my best to keep everything tagged on my blog ( tagging example: blood tw // ) if i miss something, feel free to POLITELY let me know and i will be sure to tag it for you. // 003 : DON'T BE AN ASSHOLE.         do not follow me if you are bigoted in any way. i will be looking, and i will block without hesitation. // 004 : MUN =/= MUSE.         this should go without saying but my muses actions and philosophies do not mirror my own. my muses are purposefully written flawed & broken with many issues and backwards ideas. their thoughts and decisions do not mirror my own. // 005 : PSA.         i will not participate in call out culture unless under very specific circumstances, and i urge others to do the same -- often it does way more harm than good. just don't be an asshole and we won’t have a problem, as easy as that <3 // 006 : FOLLOWING/BLOCKING.         i don't have an unfollow stipulation, feel free to unfollow/block at any time and for any reason, but please know that i will also operate on this logic and may not warn you or give you a reason before i unfollow/block. no hard feelings; this is just a hobby and our spaces should feel fun and safe :)) // 007 : THEMES.         disclaimerㅤi write thematically dark characters, and many of the themes on their blogs are heavy, including but not limited to; kidnapping, drugging, drug use, alcohol use, stalking, murder, death, assault, experiences with transphobia, et cetera. If you are uncomfy with any of these subjects, I would suggest that you do not follow my blogs. i will try my best to keep everything tagged.   credits  ㅤ psd by sawbonesources. carrd template by elv1raes. all graphics are made by me unless otherwise stated on the post

a very quick and messy explanation of kennys backstory (until im able to write out something that sounds better lol)

kenny mason from louisiana grew up on an isolated farm with his family and a couple others. the farm was pretty self sufficient, going to town every other week or so to sell at farmers markets and for supply runs. one particularly hot spring some of kenny's cousins go out hunting and bring back a deer to share with the family, which is a pretty normal thing for them to do, but something about this deer didnt look right to kenny. he tried to warn everyone else off eating it, but because they are a "no waste" kinda family and all kenny had to go off of was a gut feeling they ate it anyways. kenny was the only one that didn't eat the deer that night. after that night, everyone on the farm started acting strange; it was little things at first --- forgetful, listless, unable to sleep properly and some began coming down with some sort of flu. then came the hostile and violent attitudes, reaching a fever pitch a few days later when kenny witnesses his father killing one of his older sisters and eating her right there in the kitchen. kenny watched in horror as everyone start turning bloodthirsty and decided then that its time to go --- the only one of his family he was to pull away from the chaos is the youngest of his oldest sisters, but even she begins to get aggressive, biting and scratching at his eyes, and in the struggle he is forced to kill her to escape. he steals the family camper van and drives off, scared about what's happening to his family, absolutely devastated about killing his sister --- so he stays on the run, never settling down, living in the back of the camper van, afraid that some day he will be found out for the murder of his sister, or possibly blamed for the chaos at the farm. or worse still, hes scared that one day he will get sick just like they did.

[a-complex-joke]

Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 7

MASTELIST

The next day at school. We all met up at the hideout out Aka the roof. But ultimately the others went off to do their own prepping. Akira and Mona looked for health and energy supplements. Ryuji was looking for places that sold realistic Wepon models.

I had to inform them that I couldn’t be a full-time phantom thief, and Mishima was in the same boat. We’d show up when we can and for big events.

The next few days were similar, a little voice screaming let’s just get this over with already, I want to have fun!

But the others soon decided to go. So Vul, Mishima, and I followed suit.

“Alright. Panther, Skull, and I will stick with Joker. Dice, you can lead Raven and Vul Right?” Mona asked me.

“Yeah, we can be a backup team, I'll show Raven some of the ropes”

(I'm gonna be honest I have no clue what to write here, with our it being. They did shit yay. Long story short they find the treasure within a few days. Mishma is learning fast. Let's skip to the calling Card day)

We had all decided to meet up on the roof again. This was something new for me. Back then Vul and I didn’t have resources or abilities to take one's treasure. We mostly just did it to loot things to sell. Made it a whole lot easier to get out of there.

“Why couldn’t we just send this at the beginning?” Ryuji complained.

“It’s not that simple, Treasures only materialize for so long. If we sent it out before. we would lose the momentum in Kamoshida’s mind. Being perceived as a liar is being a liar in the Metaverse. At most, we have a day” Mona enlightened us.

“Shit, that's like no time at all” Ryuji shook his head.

“Will that even be possible ?” Mishima asked.

“Sure, we know where The treasure is, it's just about sneaking out with it” Ann reassured.

“Well, let's send that card then, and steal the bastard's heart!” Ryuji stood up quickly.

Akira nodded. “We can post all over school tomorrow and take care of it after that”

“Leave what it says to me,” Ryuji said. Making us all raise an eyebrow in his direction. “I know exactly what it should say.” He gave a wild grin.

“Alright,” Akira shrugged his shoulders.

“I'm so antsy now. Waiting is always the hardest part of everything” I whined while walking next to Ryuji and Mishina.

We were heading to my place, so Ryuji could make the card and use my copier to make a shit ton, and Mishina decided to tag along, Ryuji had never been to my place so I think they both took this as an excuse to see how I lived.

“You live her?!” Ryuji was awe-struck by the place.

It was just a rental but nice, Two main floors and an attic I can store things in.

“Woah, you have your own Bath?!” Ryuji said running around the house.

Vul laughed “Im honestly surprised, Japan doesn't have them in every house, you Japanese really love letting it all hang out”

“Emily please let me use your washroom,” the boy said getting on his hands a knees to plead with me.

“Sure, I'll make you a spare key. Just text me before you come. I don’t need to see all that” I joked.

I ran upstairs to retrieve some craft supplies from the attic.

“Why you got all this shit anyway?” Ryuji asked.

“I was an art student before I moved here, but only because I said so,” I laughed, carrying the tub of things down the stairs.

“Then why are you not at one of the fancy art schools?” Mishima asked, trying to help me navigate my way down the stairs.

“Meh, school deflates creativity and individuality, even ones made for such. Plus Im not that good” I set down the stuff on the counter.

“You have such a bleak take on a lot of things. I wouldn’t have expected that from you” Mishima said.

“Yeah, she does this a lot. You have to be one of her friends to see her do it though” Ryuji joked looking through the tub.

Mishima showed a small smile on his face.

“Well im gonna relax, you two are welcome to stay over. Im excited to see what you come up with” I laughed walking over to the couch and lying down.

Vul joined me cuddling onto my chest, and Mishima awkwardly looked around before sitting on the side chair.

Ryuji began to mutter to himself seeming to figure out what he would put on the card.

The TV playing a show, Vul’s breath, and Ryuji quietly working, soon all soothed me to sleep.

I could still hear what was going on around me but my body was already asleep

“Hey I think she’s falling asleep,” Mishima said to Ryuji, trying to stay quiet

“Ok And… if you are worried about her getting cold cover her up” Ryuji replied.

“It doesn’t look like there are any blankets around”

“Then go grab one from her room”

“What! You want me to go up to her room! A girl’s room!” Mishima panicked.

“Shh, you're going wake her. What’s the big deal? it’s just Emily’s room”

“Easy for you to say, she might kill me if I went up there” Mishima pouted.

“Dude, she doesn’t care. She said we could stay over. I think she expected us to snoop a little,” Ryuji laughed.

Yeah, I didn’t, Ryuji had already seen a distorted version of me naked, and Mishima wasn't gonna do anything weird, my shame went out the window with these two. 

Before I knew it my conciseness was transferred to my dreamscape.

[the-rorster]

please tell me why reblogging is better why reposting is bad? honestly cause i'm confused the reason why i repost is because i'm showing that i love their art and want it to be on my page as well that's all to show that i love it

so first off, theres really no need to send me almost the same ask twice. I feel like every time I talk to you, you're sending me 2-4 inboxes that all say the same thing and then sometimes you turn around an send me three more that say something else but those three also all say the same thing. The third thing you added is a valid addition which I'll also touch in here but this first and second thing you said to me are almost exactly the same and truthfully and honestly there is no reason for it.

Now. Tumblr is a form of social media people posting, especially posting fancreations a lot of time thrive on that interaction. Unlike most social medias, tumblr doesnt have a big algorithm that pushes content out to be seen.

On a normal social media, if you liked a post, the algorithm would say 'this is a post people like, lets show more people' and more people would see it. This is tumblr.

Reblogging is tumblr's best version of that. It boosts the content. Reblogging is how things get shared across here. Because if I posed something and you reblogged it and someone saw your reblog (which, yes, would be on your page) and liked it, both you and the person who made it will get that like. And you want the person who made the art you like to know people like it don't you? A lot of times that's what encourages them to make more.

If you repost it, you're stealing it from them, and any like only goes to you.

"reblogging: you are giving a direct link and source to the original art, and you can tag it so it reaches the target audience. you are supporting the artist and helping their art gain notes and show others who created it

reposting: you blatantly take an artists work and post it without credit to the artist when you can give a simple @ to them. it doesnt help the original poster gain any sort of traction and credit and notes they deserve for their work."

@cr4shqueen (who you wrongfully blocked and reported)

I really, really, really want to be ab;e to say that this is understandable. Because it would be. if you were 11. or 12. or 13. or MAYBE even 14. But you claim to be 25, so, if you aren't 25, you should admit that to me now because it changes a lot of the circumstance that you are in, but otherwise, you really don't have an excuse to have been on tumblr for 2+ years and still not understand what a reblog does. Either way, let me show you

This is Ryver's blog

Now lets say Ryber is scrolling tumblr and she finds some artwork she really likes (im going to be using some of my own for this example)

In this examply, Ryver really likes this picture of tiny rory

Because this is my post, you see @the-rorster at the top. Because I drew it. You know who the artist is, me, because its my post.

Ryver can click this reblog button right here

Ryver now has the option to say anything on the main post or add tags

She might decide to say something nice right here, but you should never comment on how you want something changed, or don't like something. Ryver can say "This is cute!" but she shouldn't say "You shouldn't have made him tiny. I don't like him tiny" this is important to note. Dont talk about things you dont like in this section

When she's done, Ryver hits the blue reblog

The creator gets a notification like this

now they KNOW someone liked their content

this number (which was 21 before) goes up

this number shows how many people enjoyed the content you made/how many times someone has interacted with it

AND the post is on ryvers blog

The exact same way it would be if she reposted it, the only difference is that my name is still there, so you still know who drew it, and I still get any interaction it gets from ryvers blog

People have lost out on thousands of dollars because of other people reposting instead of reblogging. I definitely don't want my favorite Benny artists missing out on thousands of dollars. I don't think you do either, so maybe start reblogging so that you arent the reason it happens. Because I know you don't want to be a theif.

This is also why crediting the original creator is important if they give you permission to crop it. So that people who see it from your blog can go and see the whole thing. Which you should want if youre trying to show you love the art

[bullprince]

i dont normally add on to posts but i feel so strongly abt this that im not hiding in the tags for this one. my special interest is cooking and op is right. this idiot is really trying to colonisersplain cultural appropriation. food is absolutely political, food and art are like the foundation of culture because theyre some of the only things displaced people can bring with them, and cooking and art are the most basic human activities. if you look into the past, even to before the evolution of homo sapiens, all humans, all hominids wanted to create things. so when you steal someone's creations and call them your own, you are being inhuman.

there's been a huge argument against plagiarism and ai recently, and its deserved, but if youre kicking off over that you need to recognise it pales in comparison to everything a group of people has created being stolen and labeled as the "culture" of the group committing a genocide against them. gaza is starving. israel is blocking supplies from reaching gaza. they have "protestors" blocking trucks from reaching palestinians, and ive seen the photos, those "protestors" are laughing and smiling about it, having never starved in their lives, while gazans are being forced to eat rotting food and animal feed, and drink poisoned water.

i am white british. and that means i dont really have a culture. what culture the english had was lost long ago. im not going to turn this into a rant about what the english did to the rest of the british isles because this isnt the post to do it. but my lack of a culture means i personally am much more appreciative of the cultures around me. i love living in a university city because there are so many restaurants and grocery shops. as someone whos special interest is cooking, i think that food and the history behind it is one of the best ways to learn about other peoples cultures. ive been trying my best to learn how to make palestinian food, i follow palestinian chefs online, and ive been to local palestinian restaurants. its good. its worth learning to make. these are recipes that predate "israel" and they will exist long after it. this is food that is a symbol of resistance. many of the symbols of palestinian resistance link back to their food: the olive trees, the river and sea where they fished and should still be allowed to fish.

so to say with full confidence that "real "cultural appropriation" is a concept invented to prevent people from wearing or eating things outside of their culture by claiming it falsely "strips identity" from these things." and "its literally just a bullshit excuse invented to justify targeted harassment campaigns against people online" is not only fucking disgusting but proves you are uneducated and have no concern for other peoples culture, a huge part of their identities and souls. op, a palestinian, has quite literally described cultural appropriation, the act of "israel" labeling palestinian food as "israeli", something they have EVERY RIGHT to be enraged by, and yet tumblr user spaps-society has the audacity to tell them nah ur wrong actually bc of MY interpretation of what cultural appropriation is. "israel" wants to take everything palestine has to make it seem like they have always been there. they have not. and it is not their culture. if in the year 2024, witnessing some of the worst atrocities of this century, you cannot fathom the idea of appreciating others cultures and wanting to uplift them and their food, art, fashion, architecture, literature, everything they create, and instead want to go online to pick fights with people who are so obviously in the right over them wanting to defend their culture during an ethnic cleansing, a genocide, you are just a cunt. this concludes my infodump.

I do want to say re:food appropriation, for Palestinians it is a very very very sensitive issue. I don't know a single Palestinian who doesn't react vehemently to calling food "Israeli." One, because you have to recognize that this is within a larger pattern of completely erasing Palestinian identity, and two, because food is an essential core part of culture, where historical, familial instruction should be acknowledged.

I find it incredibly.... insulting to say "well food can be exchanged between cultures and people, so what's the big idea?" and neglect the fact that even within the Levant, there is a diverse array of cooking styles. To call certain dishes "Israeli" especially within the context of how the state of Israel was established, plays into the erasure of Palestinians.

It's often necessary to attribute the food we eat to specific cultures. For example, I, a Palestinian, would never claim ownership over Macarona Bil-Bashamil, or Yalenji, because they're "Arab." That's just not how food culture works. Different cultures, different climates, different environments all contribute to the food we eat and the clothes we wear. Food in itself is political because of how heavily it is tied to a location in which things are grown and raised.

Food is what builds community. Women, young and old, pass this knowledge throughout generations. And ESPECIALLY between peasant families that grow and raise the very flora and fauna we rely on in our dishes. This is a professional sort of knowledge that we celebrate and consider incredibly important. To strip our very food of our identity is not only insulting, but negates the centuries worth of food culture we've established in favor of homogenization. So yes, it IS possible to appropriate food, especially when you do not acknowledge the centuries worth of knowledge shared.

[lesbianwyllravengard]

Hell yeah i got some recs!! Most of mine are going to be more Hank and Connor or Reed900 centric, so keep that in mind.

From it's Own Wreck by Jivvin is my current favorite! It's a ghost au based on the film Just Like Heaven (2005) and it's full of gorgeous writing and has lots of great moments in it. I can't recommend it enough. It is incomplete, but the author regularly updates and it's a few chapters away from being finished.

Deviating and Solving Crime with 100% Human Detective Connor by CaptainKenway. Exactly what it says. You're solving crime with a 100% human detective, nothing else. Nothing suspicious about him. 0_0 It has some good angst and funny moments, and i really enjoyed reading it.

Detroit 07 by Rhinozilla is INCREDIBLE! It's a 38 part series (i know, im stilling working through it) and it's got so much angst, found family, comfort, crack shenanigans, and just as much plot as there is silly oneshots. It's got some OCs in it that are amazing and fit so well into the story, and it does deviate a little bit from the norm (different name for Nines for example, and no reed900) but it's still really good. Since there are so many parts to it and two of the parts are over 400k each, here are some of the smaller oneshots that can be read easily by themselves:

Color Wheel: Connor sustains minor damage to the hardware controlling his appearance. Everybody in the bullpen is united with one singular mission: do not let Connor know that his hair keeps changing colors.

The Breathing Graveyard: The DPD sends Connor to talk down a volatile deviant that's holed up in a trailer near the android scrapyard. It doesn't go the way any of them expect.

Bubbles: Connor gets stuck watching a lost little girl while they wait for her parents to come pick her up at the station.

And then i'd recommend Chapter 51 of Camaraderie if you're up for a wholesome father-son moment.

Through Your Veins by AceEmerson: Nines gets hurt and Gavin takes him back to his apartment to patch them up. There is also an android cat, first kiss, and TENSION

Secret by sv962: Role-reversal Reed900, first kiss. Tis very good. Semi-short at less than 5k and you want a good little role reversal, i recommend it.

The unexpected benefits of having a therapist terminator by texs_sins: Undeviated Nines decides to become Gavin's therapist to help improve their work partnership. 'Surely exposing himself to human emotions won't make a difference, after all nothing has ever made him deviate, right?' it's a fantastic fic and i love their take on Machine Nines and Deviated Nines. (fair warning because it's not listed in the tags, there's a little bit of smut in the last chapter, but easily skippable if you aren't up for it)

Beautifully Unique and Strange by cliffhanging: autistic Connor oneshot because we need more autistic Connor fics

Only Skin Deep by the AsexualofSpades: pre-relationship Reed900, where Nines tries to hide as much of his androidness in response to his anti-android partner five times and the one time he doesn't. It has a nice follow up fic too and i recommend it!

i think that's a fair amount to stop at, oh my god. And thanks again for your recs!! I'm gonna get reading to them tonight!! <3<3<3

Ahhh hell yes! Thank you so much!!

I have read the texs_sins fic (and most of theirs) but I'd definitely reread them bc I love them a lot so thank you for reminding me!

I am ALWAYS DOWN for more father son content with Hank and Connor, thank you SO much. It's so hard for me to find any these days.

Detroit 07... Almost sounds like a kind of Brooklyn 99 AU? In which case idk if I should read it just yet because I am also writing a dbh brooklyn 99 AU and I don't want to accidentally steal ideas or be influenced by someone else, but maybe after I post my own work I'll check it out! (two cakes!)

These all sound super fun thank you for the recommendations!! <333

[artisticmenace]

PROSHIPPERS DNI I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!!

Other DNIs below.

im approachable and you should talk to me. cue hypnosis. on or off anon. you can literally never talk to me again if you wanted. this is the internet and idk who you are or where you live ok.

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Hello, dear friends and accociates. Welcome to the normal info section.

hiii. I'm tabs. I'm suuuper gay(for him @drippycandystars ). I'm also an artist. Any scorn or prejudice will be promptly ignored. Criticism will be looked over as long as its constructive. i am american 🇺🇲🏈🦅🤠

profile picture forever and always by me. unless this message changes in which im not using my own art as a pfp anymore.

im on bsky now here u go

fun facts:

im not a stoner but a lot of people think i am

i <3 maximalism and i want to be cecil palmer

in an ideal world i would be a clown

Status:

😁😁😁😁

About me:

I have a bunch of OCs, and I'm writing so many (unfinished)books... Yeah, that's right. I like to suffer and die creatively TWICE!! I can not be helped. I'm just goofy like that sometimes. I hate most non canon ships for fandoms im in, but I'll probably just go "ew" and leave you alone(depends on the ship, really). I like to dress fancy, and my general look is deep woods cottagecore that has recently drank from the lake of maximalism. You won't see pictures of me, probably, because my room is NOT clean. Sometimes, I vent on here, but that's because I am the only demographic this blog needs. I love you, too, but your feelings are only being considered a little bit. I use tone tags every now and then if I feel I would be misunderstood. On that note, I am more likely to ignore or ask for clarification if you say something rancid or silly than get on your ass about it.

Those Days:

I'm gonna be making a comic called Those Days about a small town old gay couple, Scott and Rodney, telling their life's story. They've been friends since their sophomore year in high school, and they've seen a lot. Scott was a punk, to say the least.

For the actual comic, you'll need to thosedayscomic, the blog I made for the comic.

^^ I'm currently working on the first issue. I do have lots of art of them though.

Tags for my comic:

those days, those days comic. also any character names first and last.

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Current Fixations:

Camp Here and There (Waiting for S2)

Welcome to Night Vale (all caught up)

The Magnus Archives (help)

The Magnus Protocol (screaming)

Good Omens (wkealt. wbotpfalt.)

Malevolent (blood covered screaming crying throwing up)

The Penumbra Podcast (Hey, its been awhile. HEY??? ITS BEEN AWHILE??? YOU TRIED TO HAVE GAY SEX IN MY EARS FIRST EPISODE????)

Heartstopper (syd asydic when i catch u. tao is my favorite. hes so autistic.)

What's Currently Crippling:

its been a weird week and i have no fixation rn... 😔💔

Also:

I love interaction! I will always discuss my interests, and l o r e when asked. In other words, PLEASE TALK TO ME !!!

i use ibispaintx btw and i watch the ads for my brushes

things you can do with my art:

- You can use my art as a pfp or banner on any social media(if u rlly want to) excluding twitch and yt if u have a channel AS LONG AS YOU CREDIT ME

- you can use my art for like. wallpapers and edits or wtv. i dont care if u post them w credit as long as you arent selling them.

things you can NOT do with my art:

- repost w/o credit

- actually just steal my art

- use it to train ai

- use it for anything commercial unless ive either a) given you permission or b) you commissioned/traded me or i gave it to you for free (this includes twitch and yt if you have an active channel that you post/stream on)

if any of this comes up i will start using watermarks again even though i usually dont cause no one is stealing from me rn.

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Art Requests/Asks: Open!!

Art Trades: Open!!

DMs: Open(as long as you arent a creep or an asshole obviously)

(cant do commissions because the world hates me but dont be shy to trade me. not particular on what i get back as long as i made someone happy. cause it feels amazing to see something i did made someone happy)

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DNI LIST because I'm a little hater:

proshippers (what the fuck. what the actual fuck. fictional or not.)

active members of the hazbin/helluva fandom(if i am reminded of that shitshow when you interact with my page UTAFSHBDBDBDJNSJAGAHAOSHHAGA)

racists, sexists, homophobes, transphobes, etc

pro-israel.

18+ blogs (a whole minor)

those problematic "sexualities" (ex. super straight, MAP, zoosexual)(also RCTA what the fuck)

people who fake disabilities/mental illness

people who actively misuse words that describe mental illnesses even though they are well informed about that sort of thing

those fucking people who ruin pretty houses and antique furniture and old clothing. fuck you.

people who write smut about canonically sex repulsed asexual characters(jonathan sims) and just people who decide they dgaf about anything like that. bi-erasure, aro-erasure. anything erasure. i hope youre having a terrible day.

sydelijah shippers get out.

(this one is unserious) people who dont deadname twitter

PRO HOA YOU DONT EVEN BELONG ON TUMBLR FUCK YOU I HOPE MY FUTURE SOMEWHAT UNATTAINABLE MAXIMALIST HOME PISSES ON YOUR BABY

people who are mean to me. i havent had any yet but just in case. if you disagree with my take, thats ok bc you arent the demographic for my blog. I AM!!!! /silly srs

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Here's my sick tags:

artisticmenace - anything that is a post by me

menaceartisticity - art and art related things

themenaceuseswords- text posts. i say shit sometimes.

themenacerants - my new tag for when i lose my shit

menaceencouragement - words of solace and encouragement from me

menacepoetry - poetry/songs yeah. probably sad stuff cause im miserable sometimes

menacescrawling - writing. oh buddy boy.

menacemusicality - im a choir kid what do you want from me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you, I love you.

going to collect these things because why not

credits, top to bottom:

butterscotch-goat

cowboyinternist (2)

thehobbitchronicals

[wayfinders-coven]

Hi there. First off, I’m sorry my DNI was not posted on this blog but outside of this discussion, do not interact with me. Feel free to respond though. Other endos, go away.

I am having this discussion in good faith, but I have a poor opinion of the endogenic community and I am not trying to be polite about it. The way i say things might sting some, but I have too much to say to take the direct autism out of my tone. I apologize in advance and thank you for your understanding.

Also, i will be putting “non-disordered plurality” in quotes because… i still don’t believe in it, but there’s an explanation for everything and I’m not trying to deny the experience you do have, but I would like to highlight that it may not be what you think it is.

-

First: you can say all you want that all of the above is true, and honestly I do not really care because endos do not keep me up at night. But even through your entire rebuttal you call endogenics with disabled terms, all while claiming that you’re different things.

System is a disabled term, for disabled people, not for “endogenic plurals” or anyone non-disordered.

Using it as a “non-disordered plural” is ableism. You are taking words away from people with real and serious disorders when you use them to spread information about “non-disordered plurality”. Those words are not for you. Please respect that. Use your own words.

On a similar line, endos also use tags containing “system”, “alter”, “split”, etc. Anecdotally, you haven’t seen it, because maybe you stay out of our way, but others don’t.

[Edit: Checked your profile: you *personally* use system! Please stop doing that. And please don’t say you don’t, it is all over your profile!]

Also, A LOT of you guys love to use “traumascum” when (disordered) systems don’t want to interact with you! That is top tier ableism, bordering on entire slur usage at this rate. You guys as a community *invented a slur* to be ableist to systems. Just be aware of that.

To sum up this section: Endos are generally an ableist group, either stealing our words or using a slur they made for us. They should not be doing that regardless of the truth of “non-disordered plurality”.

-

Next: The ICD recognizes spiritual practices an example of multiple *personality states*. It does not recognize the “plurality” most endos claim to have, which are either real symptoms of a CDD, or mimicking a CDD.

Also, I hate to be this guy, but when something is normal for someone, it can’t always initially be reported as “distressing”; It doesn’t become distressing until you realize what happened to you, and sometimes it becomes undistressing after you accept it. I know clinicians wont diagnose unless you show distress, but I firmly still believe that if you have all the symptoms of a CDD and yet don’t feel distressed, you’re still disordered. CDDs are traumagenic neurodevelopmental disorders, that doesn’t go away because you become okay with it.

Another thing about this: The cut off date is a theory, and only works for otherwise-NT kids. If you have a neurodevelopmental disorder (like autism for example), your “cut off” date is a lot later. Also, your small-T traumas count too; You don’t have to have been seriously abused or anything to need to cope with life by developing a CDD. Kids brains are the ones in charge; ‘serious trauma’ is whatever your kid-brain fet it was. Just think about that.

(The “im trauma-endo because my trauma happened when i was 10” crowd are the ones i worry about the most, because you aren’t endo just because the trauma happened ‘late’, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.)

-

Sidebar, i do not have time to vet all those doc sources you sent me in addition to all this, but i will eventually rb with my findings. Thanks for understanding. I will concede that part to you as you did present something, and I can’t debunk you right now in good faith.

-

You said something interesting here:

You cannot be ableist about something that *you claim* is not a disorder. Ableism is discrimination or prejudice based on disability status. This is the point we keep having to hammer home for you.

And I’m sorry that it hurts your feelings when people point it out, but it’s necessary: If you’re talking about the pointing out of delusions, I have delusional episodes and I can personally assure you, I say it with concern for some of you. I genuinely think a good amount of you are covering up whatever trauma you endured, or are possibly suffering from a delusional disorder. It is not ableist to say so.

[Edit 2: If your claim is true (your heart symptoms get worse and you experience physical pain when told these things), that is **POTENTIALLY** indicative of a larger issue! If available, please see a doctor, and if not, watch your health and stay out of syscourse.]

We ((disordered) systems) get to decide what “real systems” are because, and say it with me: SYSTEM IS A DISABILITY TERM. We get to decide how it’s used, just like nonverbal autistics get to tell selective-mute autistics to get *their* own words. Words mean things. Get your own.

-

Bottom line, be “plural” all you want, but I’m sorry to tell you that what 99% “endogenics” claim is non-disordered plurality, just isn’t, and it’s dangerous to spread the misinformation I just had to debunk in this post.

For all these reasons, i firmly believe that Endos and their community full of what OP described, and predatory people who want to keep it that way.

I don’t usually interact with people who claim to be endo, because I feel this way, but I know y’all have a right to your beliefs. You need to think about them though. And you need to not steal words from the disabled to express them. Thanks.

I hope you understand and take the time to read the whole post.

-Juniper

what actually are endogenic systems?

• Endogenic is an umbrella term that refers to all systems that are not completely traumagenic in origin.

Why are some people claiming to be endo?

• people claiming to be endogenic systems may:

• be misdiagnosed, they may not have DID/OSDD and may have a different disorder.

• may not have researched. Which is not a excuse. You cannot claim to have any disorder without any level of research.

• they may be a traumatic system in denial of there trauma.

• singlets with fractitious disorders [Factitious disorders are conditions in which a person deliberately and consciously acts as if they have a physical or mental illness when they are not really sick.]

•singlets misidentifying normal experiences

• singlets who enjoy "being a system" finding it fun etc

Why can't endos exist?

• as previously stated. DID/OSDD is a TRAUMA RESPONSE DISORDER. you cannot have it without trauma literally.

• OSDD/DID occurs because of childhood trauma between the ages 4-9 (commonly). Because extreme trauma happens when the majority of your "personality" is formed by then. the trauma interferes with your personality development, causing the formation of other alters to help cope with that trauma / deal with the brunt of the trauma and survive day to day life.

• OCDD/DIDs can only be formed through trauma.

Why are endos so harmful?

• they spread very harmful misinformation. (Even the idea of being endogenic, forming without trauma)

they spread dangerous misinformation and stigma (demonising roles (persecutors for example)) impossible beliefs (alter death, sys hopping etc)There growing presence in general on many platforms

• endos trying to say that they have any experience to anything close to the serious trauma that causes DID/ OSDD is so so harmful to actual DID/ OSDD have had to live through and survive.

• WE ARE ALREADY STIGMATISED AND DEMONSIED IN ALL SORTS OF MEDIA AS IS.

• IT IS SO HARMFUL AND HURTFUL TO SYSTEMS WHO HAVE ACTUALLY SURVIVED AND BEEN THROUGH THE HORRORS AND TRAUMA THAT CAUSES DID/OSDD - OUR TRAUMAS ARE NOT BADGES FOR YOU TO WEAR.

- blurred asf

[babyboibucky]

Should’ve Known Better

Pairing: EB!Frank x Reader

Summary: You should have known better than to sleep with a friend.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, FWB set-up, a little bit of toxic shit, angst

A/N: Frank got the most votes when I asked which other Seb character I should write for, so here it is! This is very personal to me lmfao it’s somewhat based on my own experience that really fucked me up a couple of years ago aksncajscna no but for real, stay away from the friends with benefits kind of relationship if you can’t keep shit purely sexual lmao also some guys are just fucking assholes even if they’re your friend lol

ALSO, I tagged those who are in my Everything Bucky Tag List. I’m not sure if I’ll write more Frank in the future too so I won’t be creating a separate tag list for him yet.

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Do you love me?"

It was a simple question that was supposed to make you think. Given your experiences and your personality in general, you were supposed to cringe and ignore it. Maybe even make a joke out of it, especially that it was Frank who was asking you this question.

He wasn't supposed to ask it too. He wasn't one to ask such thing, not especially with the relationship that the both of you have. It was clear from the get go that this was nothing serious.

So why was he asking it now?

And why did you respond to it right away, as if you knew your answer even before he asked?

-

"Come on, it'll be fun."

You should've said no. You should have known better.

"I'll make you feel good, you won't regret this."

It did feel good, you were going to give Frank that. Possibly the best, even. But the latter part? You weren't so sure. Were you regretting it? Honestly, no.

Maybe not yet.

You'd rather not think about it for now.

"What's there to lose? We know each other too much to develop feelings anyway, you said so yourself."

Oh there's plenty to lose. Maybe a decade's worth of platonic (was it really platonic from the beginning though?) friendship. Your self-esteem was on the line too, but you didn't know it yet. You'll get there though, whether you like it or not.

"I'm free next Friday, come over. Spend the night with me. What do you say?"

You should've said no. You should have known better.

"Next Friday. I'll see you, okay?"

You should've said no. You should have known better.

"Ugh, fine."

But you said yes because you didn't know any better.

-

That first night with Frank was something else. It was fun and he kept his promise to make you feel good. So, so good. You never thought that sex could be that fucking good. At least, not with your previous partners. Not that you had many in the first place.

But god, Frank knew what he was doing and he loved doing things to you. He loved the entire process of knowing your body, what you liked and what you loved. How you liked to be kissed and touched and fucked.

He studied your body like his fucking life depended on it and you let him. You let him own your body because you needed someone to. You needed to feel something, wanted to have a purpose even for just a short while, even if it meant being someone's fuck buddy.

You felt lost for the longest time, but as you laid on Frank's bed with his tongue lapping up your cunt, you actually felt like you belonged somewhere.

-

You weren't a booty call, definitely not. And when things escalated between the both of you, Frank was already single and had broken off with his recent girlfriend, Daphne. You weren't a doormat nor a side chick. Frank had been your friend for the longest time, one of your closest actually. He knew you the best and not just physically. Frank knew the darkest parts of you the same way you knew him like the back of your hand. He was the most open to you, he said so himself.

"I don't know what I'd do without you." he told you one time.

Frank wasn't afraid to show you his true colors; how he wasn't the kind to settle for one or how he would often end up with someone immature or toxic. He himself was toxic and for the most part, you tolerated him.

That was the mistake on your part.

You let him be himself, that's why you held a special place in his heart. Not even his past girlfriends could get rid of you. You were untouchable.

"Are you sure she's fine with us going out?" you asked Frank one time, as the both of you headed to the movies.

He scoffed, "Yeah, don't worry. I already told her you're my best friend. You're off limits." he chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you inside the cinema.

"You're fine." he reassured again, this time wrapping his arm around your shoulder and then cradling your head playfully.

-

Looking back, you sometimes ponder whether the friendship was really platonic. You were sure of it when the both of you first became friends; he was a couple of years older than you. You sort of looked up to him like an older brother for the first few years of your relationship. And he was very caring too, always looking out for you.

Your other friends were the first one to notice the closeness. They often told you that Frank seemed to have a thing for you. You brushed it off though, saying that it was impossible.

His girlfriend then was an acquaintance of yours. She was nice and wasn't bothered by how Frank was affectionate towards you.

Indeed, you were untouchable. You were the best friend after all.

-

"We fought again."

You rolled your eyes at Frank as he sat across from you at a local coffee shop near your place. It was your birthday and as always, you spent the most part of it with Frank.

It was like a tradition already, to celebrate your birthday with Frank first before you went out with your friends. Or even family. It was that kind of friendship.

"I'm sorry but who are we talking about again?" you joked.

Frank made a face, "Daphne." he responded. "I just told you about her like, two days ago."

You snickered, "I was kidding. But honestly though, you have to stop flirting with other girls. It's been really difficult for me to keep track of your record, Frank. And are you and Daphne even official?" you asked, taking a sip from your cold brew.

He rubbed his chin and shrugged, "Sorta. Well, we were official two weeks ago. Now though, I'm not so sure. Here's the thing, Daphne can be really..." he said, trying to search for the right words.

You hummed and shook your head, "Immature?" you said and mindlessly scrolled through your phone.

"You should really stop dating girls who are immature, Frank. I swear to god, this is like...I don't know, the fifth time you dated someone like her? Why don't you settle for someone who actually acts her age?" you blurted out.

Frank groaned and transferred to the seat next to you, his body facing yours and his hand landing on your thigh. You didn't mind, didn't think it was too touchy or intimate for someone who was in a relationship. It was pretty common for Frank to be this touchy with you anyway, you never paid much attention to it nor given it any malice.

"We fought because of you actually." Frank admitted with an apologetic smile.

Your head snapped towards him, a scowl etched on your face. "What did I do?!" you asked in defense.

"It was my fault. Daph saw your photo inside my wallet." he said.

"You should really throw away that photo. Jesus, why do you still have it anyway?" you complained.

Frank scoffed, "That's my favorite photo of you. I don't wanna get rid of it."

That was the last day that you considered your friendship with Frank platonic.

-

Come over

I miss u xoxo

Miss eating u out

Miss ur moans, wanna hear them again

You groaned at the continuous notifications that flooded your phone. While you were at work. After that first night with Frank, he had gotten extra clingy. No lies though, it felt nice to be wanted like this.

im free nxt Sat

Yay

Cant wait to see u, missed u a lot

dude, we were at the mall together just last wk

U really dont get attached do u?

Frowning at Frank's reply, you honestly didn't understand what he was implying.

what u mean?

Nothing

Work kept you busy for the entire week, with Frank bombarding you with sweet texts. You've avoided being sweet with him, it felt wrong. You weren't an affectionate person but Frank was, it was sort of one-sided. It wasn't a big deal anyway.

No one from the rest of your friends knew what had become of your friendship with Frank. You just thought it wasn't something that should be revealed. It was like your and Frank's little secret. You had to admit, the thrill only made the sex better.

Whenever the both of you went out with other people, the tension was there and it was fun. It was fun trying to brush off the way Frank's hand would steal touches from your waist, or how he'd subtly squeeze your thigh. The looks you exchanged from across the room; how Frank's "fuck me" eyes were meant for you and only you.

Things like that made you feel a certain type of way. But you never dwelled on it, or at least, you thought you didn't.

-

"Yeah, fuck...just like that, baby."

Frank's fingers dug deeply into the skin of your ass as he guided your hips. You gripped onto the back of the couch as you bounced on his cock, head thrown back from pleasure as Frank suckled one of your nipples. You could feel each of his fingers pressing down against your skin, it's probably going to leave bruises again.

"Frank, shit. I'm close." you panted against the skin of his neck, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him close.

Frank grunted and took your face in between his palms, forcing you to look at him as he began to thrust his hips upwards, eliciting a high-pitched whimper from you.

"Wanted to see you like this ever since." he breathed out, pressing his lips against your open mouth.

"Wanted you since we met, d'you know that?" he asked, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so he could nibble on your throat.

You shook your head and gripped his shoulders, nails scratching at his skin as you continued to ride his cock, "God, Frank...so close." you moaned.

You felt Frank's lips curl into a smirk against your neck, his fingers gripping your hair to keep you in place as his other hand slipped in between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it to help you reach your climax.

Every single time he touched you, you felt like your entire body was on fire. You felt the most alive, the most free whenever Frank fucked you. Maybe because he was truly gifted in bed or maybe he just knew your body and how to make it sing.

Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at you whenever you fall apart for him. Like he only had eyes for you, like it was only you that he could see.

Sweaty bodies and hoarse voices, the smell of smoke and sex lingering in the air. It was such a familiar ambiance by now. You liked how the aftermath of fucking Frank was never awkward, if any, it was a comfortable experience with the both of you just talking casually about how each other's day went.

"So I'm talking to this girl..." Frank said, turning you around so he could spoon you. Oh, the irony of the intimacy and conversation.

"Where'd you meet this girl?" you asked.

"Tinder." Frank snorted before pressing a kiss on your nape. "No, but she's different. I don't know, there's something about her."

You merely hummed in response.

"Think I might ask her out."

The first sting. The first realization. The first denial.

You should've said no. You should've known better.

-

The art exhibit wasn't a flop, but you wouldn't call it a success either. When you got a call from the organizer asking whether they can include your paintings in the exhibit, you said yes instantly. What can you say? You were a struggling artist who was seeking validation.

But now that you stood in front of your works with barely ten people attending the one-day exhibit, you thought that this wasn't a validation. It felt like a wake up call that maybe, art wasn't your calling and that you should probably give up on your dream.

"These are amazing."

You were on the verge of breaking down when you heard his voice. Turning around, you were surprised to see Frank. He was nodding his head as he approached you, his eyes scanning each of your painting.

"What are you doing here? I thought you had work." you asked.

Frank gave you a face, "Did you really think I'd miss out on your first exhibit?" he said and pulled you into a warm embrace.

"I'm proud of you." he whispered before kissing the crown of your head.

One validation from Frank was all it took for the walls to crumble down. He was the one who had been there for you all along and that was why you completely trusted him.

Frank will never hurt you, he'll never bring you down.

Or so you thought.

-

"Do you love me?"

It was a question that was supposed to make you think. But you didn't, because even before Frank decided to ask you that, you already had your answer.

You knew your answer for the longest time now, but decided to lock it into a box that you kept in the deepest part of your heart. It remained there unbothered and almost forgotten, up until this point.

That's why it was so easy for you to respond to it without even batting an eye.

"Yes."

It was too late when you realized that you had just admitted that you were in love with Frank. But you felt like it was the right time for you to bring out the key to that box, open it and just set your truth free.

They said that the truth will set you free, but why does it feel like it only imprisoned you?

"Shit, I was kidding." Frank said, his face panicked and body stiff from your unexpected admission.

Before you could even say something, Frank let out a nervous laugh as he ran his hand through his locks. "Wow, I didn't...are you serious?" he asked again.

It took you everything to brush off the pain, "Yeah, but it's no big deal. Come on." you shook your head and forced out a breathy chuckle.

Frank heaved out a deep sigh, "Fuck, I was messing with you. Are you sure it's fine? I mean, would this change anything?" he asked.

You deadpanned, "No, Frank. It wouldn't change anything. Like I said, get over it. It's not like I'm in love with you. I just love you...if that makes sense? You're my friend." you explained, more like lied.

"Look, it's not like I'm unattracted to you. I like you, I like spending time with you. It's just that I sort of don't see myself committing to you."

It didn't sink in to you immediately, Frank's statement. You didn't pay it any mind because again, you knew Frank. He wasn't one to commit so that was fine, you understand where he was coming from. It's not like you were going to force yourself on him too. But then you accidentally glanced at his phone and saw the messages he'd been exchanging with a certain someone.

When r u coming home?

In a little while, Daph

That night, Frank's statement hit you like a ton of bricks but again, you chose to deny what you actually felt. It's fine.

You're fine.

-

You should've said no. You should've known better.

Those words rang in your ears on the day that you found out. Your body turned cold, your vision blurred and your head spun. You'd never experienced hurt and anger like this, the kind that consumed you.

The kind that made you realized and admit that fuck, you'd truly fallen for Frank only for him to break your heart.

It didn't help that you were having such a terrible day at work. And Frank was so sweet to ask you whether you wanted to meet up with him. Not for sex, but to talk. The sex came rarely recently and was replaced with wholesome trips to the grocery, shit like that.

You knew there was something special going on. Even after he told you that he didn't see himself being with you, there was something.

Apparently, that something was just an assumption. Because when you asked Frank to meet you up that night, he said he couldn't and needed to be somewhere. That he'd meet with you the next day instead, a promise.

But then you saw him post a photo of him and Daphne. And it made your blood boil.

u back together?

No. Not really, been trying to fix it but u know how it is.

if ur trying to fix it with her then im out, frank

Wait what? Hey, are u mad?

r u fucking serious? u knew i love u and u come here parading ur ex, what the fuck is that all abt?

Shit, hey. Look, let's talk later, okay? Im out, will txt u when Im free.

Frank didn't text you back for the rest of the day.

-

You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.

Were you regretting it? Yes. Sometimes.

You didn't know which hurt the most, the fact that Frank kept you in the dark while he was trying to patch things up with his ex, or that he considered you his best friend and still chose to break your heart.

He knew you the best, your relationship and trust issues and out of all the people, he really had to be the one to fuck you up the most. You trusted him so much, trusted him not to hurt you. Hell, if he doesn't want to commit then that's fine. But for him to treat you like a second option? Fuck that.

For him to confuse you with his actions, the intimacy...were all of those even real? All the times he came to your support when you had no one, when he was there for you on days you felt alone. What were those? He made you feel so fucking special, like it was possible to actually turn the friendship into something more than just fucking.

All this time you thought it was one-sided because you never actually showed Frank how much you meant to him the same way he did to you. Turned out that it was one-sided, but only because you were the only one who fell.

The following day, you received a voicemail from Frank. You pondered whether you were ready to listen to it but at the same time, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was pretty stupid, he fucked you up and there was no excuse for that. But the friendship you had with him had a strong hold on you.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. That was my mistake." he started off. "I thought that this was really just sex and having fun, but I want you to know that I like you. I really do, you're special to me. Please give me a chance to make things right. Daph and I...I want to end things with her. Please stay, I don't know what I'd do without you."

“I just didn’t expect that you’d end up falling for me, I mean shit. You know the real me, how fucked up I am when it comes to relationships. Just please...please stay?”

Did you stay? Sort of. But you kept your distance, didn't meet up with Frank after that and only responded to his texts occasionally. Did he end things with Daph?

He didn't.

He said he would but instead, they got back together.

It was fucking selfish of Frank to ask for you to stay only for him to get back together with his ex. It'd be better for him to just slap you in the face then.

Being told that he couldn't see himself committing to you but then going back with his ex was the cherry on top. God, if that didn't mess up with your self-worth.

You totally stopped talking to Frank, ignored his texts and calls. You stayed away from him, tried to get over him and eventually, you did. But you'd be lying if you said that he never left an effect on you. Because he did, Frank did a number on you and it would take you a long fucking time to completely recover from the damage he inflicted on you.

You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.

And that's okay, because there's nothing wrong with taking risks and ending up in heartbreak.

You live, you love and you learn.

-

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[babyboywilson]

take me away, a secret place

Kiss #12 - Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

college!au

50 types of kisses masterpost. Also posted on ao3.

Dean's fingers danced across the inside of Cas' wrist under the table as they sat opposite their friends in the library. Cas looked up from the corner of his eye, giving Dean a shy smile before looking back down at his textbook.

“Why is writing essays like pulling teeth?” Charlie sighed, dropping her head down onto her laptop.

“Because they personally like to inflict torture with mountains of research,” Benny replied, snapping his book shut with a loud thump.

Dean had to agree. For the fact this was ‘English 101: Intro to Literature’, the essay for their final project felt more like a senior year assignment than a freshman one.

One semester of English and Dean had found himself a group of lifelong friends. And one roommate who he was crushing on. Well, maybe more than a crush. More like the shy beginnings of a relationship. He and Cas had only been together a week, but they were trying to keep things quiet until after finals.

It might be more under wraps if Dean could keep his hands to himself. But he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and tangling his fingers with Cas’.

Dean’s attention was snapped back to the conversation when Ash spoke up from the other end of the table. “It’s not that bad. Maybe if you’d picked topics you actually cared about, you wouldn’t be complaining,” he said distractedly, trailing his finger over a line in one of the textbooks before typing something.

Dean shot Ash a look of pure betrayal. “You’re officially no longer part of the inner circle.”

“I think we should take a break without him. The cafe is doing half-price coffees in preparation for finals,” Jo said, pulling out her wallet.

“I’m so down for that,” Charlie echoed, flashing a sly grin at Jo that made Dean think there was something going on between them. Maybe he and Cas weren’t the only ones with a relationship on the DL.

“I’m in,” Benny agreed, firmly closing his laptop.

Just as Dean was about to voice his own agreement, Cas gave his hand two quick squeezes under the table. A secret signal they’d invented a few days ago. Kiss me.

“You know what, I actually need to find another book on Renaissance literature," Dean said, glancing between Cas and the aisles of books. "Do you think you can help me, Cas?"

Cas nodded, attempting a serious expression even though a smile danced across his lips. "Yeah, I know a couple books that might be useful.”

Pulling out his own wallet, Dean grabbed $10 and slid it across the table towards Jo. “Get us our usual,” he said, nudging Cas’ shoulder before standing.

Benny hesitated before pulling out a few bills of his own. “I’ll stay behind and watch over our stuff; since Mullet Boy wouldn’t notice if a hurricane tore through here, let alone if someone stole our laptops.”

They all looked over at Ash, who was completely clueless to the conversation happening around him. “I honestly can’t tell if he’s the smartest one here or the most oblivious.”

Dean shrugged, nudging Cas’ foot with his own as Cas sidled up next to him. “Questions the world may never have answers to. See you all back here in ten minutes?”

“You got it.” Charlie picked up the money and followed Jo out of the library, their arms brushing as they walked.

With a nod to Benny, Cas followed Dean into the shelves of books. As soon as they were around the corner and out of Benny’s eyesight, they both fumbled for each other’s hands at the same time; fingers linking and palms brushing.

“You’re sure about this?” Dean asked as Cas tugged him through the rows. “Anyone could see us.” Not that he minded. He wasn’t hiding the fact he was bi, nor was he embarrassed to be seen with Cas. But waiting until the right moment to tell their friends about their newly discovered relationship was definitely a conversation that needed a night of celebratory milkshakes at the local diner.

Cas half-turned to face Dean and gave him a dazzling smile. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” Dean said without any hesitation.

“Just through here,” Cas guided, tugging Dean by their joined hands into an alcove between the bookshelves.

“What’s this?” Dean asked, taking note of the shrouded darkness and the convenient cover between two angled shelves.

“A hidden corner I found a few weeks ago. Perfect for a secretive kiss or two,” Cas said, nudging Dean back against the wall and leaning in until their noses brushed. “Been thinking about your lips for the last hour,” Cas whispered.

“Well shut up and let me kiss you then,” Dean muttered, looping his arms around Cas’ waist and tugging him even closer as he melded their lips together.

Cas instantly sighed against his mouth, leaning up on his toes in order to close the gap between them. Dean tilted his head, catching Cas’ mouth at just the right angle to have them both weak at the knees.

A little stuttered whine slipped from Cas’ lips, and Dean quickly darted his tongue into Cas’ mouth to swallow the breathy sound. After a moment of brushing his tongue against Cas’, Dean pulled back with a quiet shushing sound. “Gotta be quiet. Library, remember,” Dean murmured, but he didn’t give Cas a chance to respond before he was chasing him into another kiss.

It was all still so new between them; slowly learning the shape of each other’s mouths and what made the other gasp into the kiss.

Shifting his grip, Dean slipped one hand up the back of Cas’ shirt as he licked along Cas’ lower lip. Cas quickly deepened the kiss in response, sliding his knee in between Dean’s legs and pushing his hand between Dean and the wall in order to grasp at his lower back.

Dean let out a quiet gasp, slowing the kisses down. Time seemed to slip away as they made out, mouths breaking apart and crashing back together.

It wasn’t until Dean’s phone vibrated in his pocket did he finally tear his mouth away from Cas’. In the dim light, his gaze caught sight of reddened spit-slick lips, and he quickly darted forward to chastely kiss Cas again before pulling away.

Clearing his throat, Dean hit the answer button as Charlie’s name flashed across the screen.

“Coffee’s going cold. Are you and Cas coming back or did you get lost in the maze of books?”

“You’re hilarious. We’re on our way,” Dean said, quickly hanging up and dropping his head back against the wall. “We gotta go.”

Cas huffed, sneaking in a simple closed-mouth kiss to the corner of Dean’s lips. “Should probably pick up a Renaissance book on the way back.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to focus on this essay again; not when I’m going to be thinking about this,” Dean muttered, trailing a hand over Cas’ hip.

“Maybe I could tempt you into getting some work done if I drag you back here in an hour,” Cas teased, pressing their foreheads together.

“God, yes,” Dean grinned, sneaking in one final kiss before nudging Cas back. “Let’s go. I want that coffee.”

By the time they made it back to the table with a book in hand, the coffee was lukewarm and their lips were still swollen from kissing. If their friends noticed, they didn’t say a word. Except for Charlie, who threw Dean a conspiratorial wink from her seat next to Jo.

Beta’d by the gorgeous @aussie-twat!

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[free-pool-trash]

happiness - peter maximoff

yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻

!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!

word count: 5k <3 😳

warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is

feedback is appreciated <3

tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)

masterlist

haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

& there is happiness

Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.

He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.

Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?

It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.

And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.

Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.

Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.

His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.

He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.

When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.

It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.

That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.

You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.

That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.

As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.

Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.

Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.

But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.

“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.

He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.

With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.

It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.

“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.

The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.

What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.

There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.

Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.

You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.

In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.

As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”

The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.

Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.

While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.

“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.

For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.

He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.

If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.

If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.

You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.

“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.

“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.

In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.

“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.

Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.

His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.

As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.

Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.

Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.

You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.

However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.

Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.

You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.

With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.

“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.

Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.

It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.

You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.

“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.

“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.

“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.

“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.

“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.

“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.

“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.

Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.

Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”

Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.

“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.

“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.

You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”

Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”

“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.

Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”

A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.

“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.

“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.

“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.

“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.

Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”

Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.

You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.

“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.

Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.

“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.

A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.

“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.

“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.

You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”

“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.

“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.

His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”

Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.

It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.

Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.

His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.

With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.