#CHARITY HOPE VALENTINE

[chipadequeso]

IM SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR ALL YOUR HARD WORK IN THIS CAMPAIGN!!!!!!!! to think it all started with less than 4 fans sniffle sniffle. charity deserved this^_^!

[catboymoses]

Charity Hope Valentine is the character ever. She's a ray of sunshine every moment of her life. She is dripping with pond water. She made her first ever bank account today. Her go to comeback is 'up yours!' She spent the night in her favorite film star's closet with a cold beer. She's sex work adjacent and asexual. The love of her life is tax accountant years old and has 500 houseplants, they met in an elevator and he took her to a cult meeting for their first date. She really just wants to be loved. She's a brass band. She's a harpsichord. She's a clarinet. She's everything

[lizardthirty]

vittorio vidal is such an underrated character.

He's taken with Charity immediately and his affection for her is sincere and not at all condescending. He likes her because she's funny and charming and honest. He asks her opinion on how to deal with his girlfriend, and he takes her advice. He lets her into his home. He serves her food. When she asks for his autograph he not only gives it to her, he gives her multiple props from old movies so she can convince her friends it really happened. He kisses her forehead. When Charity ends up in the closet, he's embarrassed. he leads her out of his home in shame.

and that whole sequence could have gone so differently. a worse writer would have done the whole "self absorbed celebrity breaks the naive fan's heart" thing. but no! vittorio genuinely likes her! he's kind to her! he doesn't judge her for her job! When charity leaves, he tells her that he'd wished it had gone differently!

what if i started screaming and never stopped, basically.

[foundfamilyhq]

[whizzeryuri]

figuring out how to draw her yay

aced my last bio final and my reward to myself is drawing sweet charity 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

[chipadequeso]

ITS HER DAY!!! ITS CHARITY HOPE VALENTINE DAY!!!!! HAPPY DAY TO THE GIRL EVER!!!!!!!!

[catboymoses]

Debbie Allen, Ann Reinking, and Donna McKechnie as Charity Hope Valentine!!

more pics here

[trivia-yandere]

trivia-yandere's valentine's day masterlist

a collection of short stories - please be mindful that this is a yandere based account and some of the fics (maybe not all) posted on here would have smut, yandere/dark themes, dub-con/non-con scenes/moments, etc. each fic will have their own warnings - please do not skip! some fics will be posted on explicit-tae

2025 - as of 10/31/24

beast of busan: (jungkook) you’re the only reporter who wasn’t scared of documenting the valentine’s day crimes of jeon jungkook - notorious serial killer known as the beast of busan. yandere (02.01)

survival: (jin) you apply to a dating show in hopes of winning the heart of a millionaire. what you didn’t know was that you would be competing to death for the heart of one man while those on the dark web watched. yandere (02.04)

hard: (taehyung) it’s valentine’s day and even though your (arranged) husband has spent thousands on gifts, all you can think about is who he spends the other 364 nights with. (02.06)

persuasive: (namjoon) namjoon never met an “honest hoe” before - your words. Knowing you aren’t cut out for the lifestyle you’re living in, he offers you an out. (02.10)

family matters: (yoongi) the only way yoongi, your brother-in-law, would agree to be your sperm donor is if he could be the one to fuck said sperm into you.  (02.14)

2024

payment plan (jin) - your husband and you find yourself bankrupt and dead broke thanks to his gambling problem. his younger brother - successful businessman kim seokjin - offers a helping hand free of charge. unbeknownst to his brother, you would be the one paying seokjin for his charity. yandere | completed (02.01)

dilemma (yoongi) - being single and broke on valentine's day is not what you expected- especially when your dealer is waiting for his payment. completed (02.03)

love you [just a little too much] (hoseok) - you're brought down memory lane. yandere | completed (02.05)

with love, k.nj (namjoon) - your valentine's date with namjoon was a success - too bad you don't know who he truly is. yandere | completed (02.07)

bad decisions (jimin) - you're getting married on valentine's day - but somehow, you allow a stripper to fuck you in front of your bride's maids and maid of honor. completed (02.09)

v-day special (taehyung) - you ask your ex - who you're still close with - if he's willing to come on your cam-show for a valentine's day special. completed (02.12)

nefarious (jungkook) -a look back into your and jungkook's fatal attraction - before the marriage, kids and the detachment. yandere | completed (02.14)

little doe (hoseok) - an alternate world in which predator shifters are the top of the shifter hierarchy. it's valentine's day and you, a prey shifter, decide to help a predator through their heat. completed (02.15)

[semicolonsspace]

Stubborn Brat

Warnings: none, it's fluffy. (Cutesy and shit)

Valentine's Day. The worst holiday ever to be made to mankind.

Every year, it never fails to disappoint me.

No one will ask me.

I push out of my self-deprecating thoughts and go to my last class; My free period. During my free periods I go to the lacrosse field to read, but today, the lacrosse team was out there practicing for the big charity game that's coming up. "Hey, Sti," I yell as I wave as he runs toward me. He was out of breath, sweaty hair matted to his forehead. He looked hot, and I always teased him for it. I smirk at him, "Oh my bad, I didn't not Mister Hottie was out to play today," I joke. 

Stiles rolls his eyes and points to his water bottle. It was a Mets bottle with the printed signatures of the team. I had gotten it for him years ago when I learned he liked them. I was 10, and I saved up and got him it and asked him to be my friend. He immediately accepted my offer and jumped on me screaming that I was the best. 

I grab the famous bottle and toss it to him. He squirts the water in his mouth and some on his face. "Thanks" he mumbles before wiping his face from water and sweat. So, what's your plan for this stupid Valentine's Day?" 

I glare at him in response. I plopped my body down onto the bench, and I couldn't help but notice his eyes watching my breast. Great day to wear a deep V-neck, I thank my morning self. "I was hoping to hang out with my best friend," I say in a teasing annoyed voice. I was talking about Stiles. "But it seems he doesn't want to," I add feigning annoyance, teasing him.

Stiles laughs and playfully elbows my side. "You know you're the only person I'd like to hang out with today, you brat," he chuckles, with a playful grin. He sits down with me, placing his bottle back in his bag. Then he pulls my body toward him. I laugh and lay my head on his shoulder. "What do you want to do today?" 

I blow a raspberry and look at him. My eyes had a playful glare to them. I knew we couldn't do what I wanted to do, mostly because I was too scared to tell him that I liked him. "I have no idea." I think a bit before adding. "Maybe we can watch that princess movie you talked about yesterday."

"The Princess Bride?" he asks as he wraps his arm around me with a content smile. "Sure, I'd be more than happy to rewatch it with you. However, I think this movie is more of a date movie. You don't have any boyfriends you could watch it with instead?"

I glare at him and then sigh. I squint my eyes after a few seconds. "You know damn well I don't have a boyfriend, Stiles," I grumble. I take a breath before adding to that. "My standards are too high and I'm pretty much a nobody," I laugh. I poke his side and ask him something. "What about you? Do you have anyone you wanna ask to be your Valentine?"

We laugh together as he shakes his head. "I'm in the same boat as you, honey," he sighs breathily as he wraps his other arm around me, ultimately scooting me closer to him. "If I could ask anyone it would be you."

As he says this he glances down at me with weary eyes, his brown doe-like eyes staring straight into mine. I shudder. All of a sudden my mouth runs dry. Did he just say what I think he just said?

After that brief pause, my eyes widened. "Really? You'd ask me?" I choke out. A beat of silence goes by, I fill it up with more words. "Well, what's stopping you?"

Stiles gives me a hearty chuckle, the famous curve of his lips returning. He glances at Scott in the distance and Scott gives him a thumbs-up with a cheeky smile.

Stiles sighs and moves hair out of my face with his slender fingers. I couldn't say anything more. I couldn't bring myself to do so. He had always moved hair out of my face, but this time it felt different. More intimate. I want him to do it again.

"You're my best friend; I don't want to mess it up... I couldn't bear losing you."

I think for a moment, my emotions being displayed on my face: anxiety, excitement, relief, and hope.

"Why don't we make a promise? That whatever happens... if it doesn't work out, we will work it through and continue being friends?" I ask softly. Hopeful. My voice cracked as I spoke with such anxiety I never thought I could experience.

Stiles' mouth runs dry in return. After a second he nods his head once. "If you promise to sell be my friend, no matter what, then I would be happy to ask you to be my valentine," he reiterates softly.

"Even through ash and dust, Stiles. I promise," I answer immediately. I smile cup his face into my small hands and kiss his sweaty forehead. "You aren't getting rid of me. I did hard work to be friends with you... I had to beg for weeks to get my uncle to give me a copy of his Mets signatures. Then get that on a water bottle. I didn't do that for nothing," I smirk playfully.

Stiles hums happily and returns the forehead kiss. I gush, blood rushing to my face as he began to speak. "You were always a stubborn brat," he chuckles, wrapping you in a tight hug. I feel his heart beat quickly, his breath quickening as he holds me in his arms. This is a core memory, I thought as I stared back into his beautiful brown eyes.

"Now I'm your brat," I whisper nervously.

"My brat," he hums deeply, still hugging me tight. "You know you're really cute when you act like a brat?" He asks as he leans his head against mine. He loosens his hug before squeezing a few times to show affection.

"That's because I'm me and you just think I'm cute, regardless of the way I act," I voice in joking confidence as I flip my hair in dramatic.

He laughs, rolls his eyes, and glances at Scott that was on the field. I glance at Scott as well. "True; I think you're cute whatever you do. Especially when you're angry. Basically... you're cute when you're being a pain in the ass as well," he teases as he rubs my lower back reassuringly.

"Me being a pain in the ass makes things interesting and you know it!" I blurt laughing loudly, causing a few people to stare.

"Eyes off her, Lahey," Stiles Barks angrily.

"Yeah yeah, I know, she's yours, blah blah," I hear in the distance from Isaac. "I heard the conversation," he grumbles as he waves his hand to get Stiles off his back.

"Are you going to be more protective like that? If so, let all of it go because that was hot," I say honestly, a smirk on my face as I continue to watch Stiles glare at Isaac walk away. Stiles was taken aback and slowly turned his head down to me. "Of course, you would like that, you practically fangirled when Kylo Ren had a temper episode."

I cut him off with a scoff. "He is hot and you know it, Kyle Ren and Annikan are two beautiful men that me and other women would gladly kneel for!" I explain in a loud whisper. There was no way I could scream that without people judging me.

Stiles shakes his head with a smile. "What if I said Leia is hot, hmm? Or Rey?" He asks sassily.

I stand my ground and agree with a hum. "I would agree with you, those two women are also very hot." He looks at me for a second, opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. I shrug at him with a "Don't ask, I don't know either but I stand by what I said" face.

"STILINSKI, GET YOUR ASS BACK ON THE FIELD AND STOP EMBARRASSING YOURSELF IN FRONT OF THAT GIRL," Coach screams across the field.

I giggle and whisper in Stiles' ear. "I can kiss you to show him you aren't embarrassing yourself if you'd like." He nods immediately. "Cheek or lips?"

"Lips," he says with heart eyes. I stand quickly and pull him up.

"STILINSKI," Coach yells again.

I take a step closer to Stiles, grabbing his hands and interlocking them. I stand on my tippy toes and lean up to kiss him. Multiple eyes were on me, and I was nervous, but as soon as his lips touched mine there was nothing. Nothing but me and my best friend.

I pull back with a smile, my lips wet from the kiss. "Go practice, soldier," I laugh at his hearty expression. He salutes, "Yes Sergeant," he yells.

"I'm not in Rotc anymore, dipshit," I laugh. He shrugs and pecks my lips a few times, humming between them and going back for more. I mess up his hair and shove him off. "Go practice, dummy!"

After practice, Stiles came running to me and squeezed me so tight I struggled to breathe. "Alright strong me, I need air," I struggled to speak. He let me go, apologized and kissed my face everywhere. "I missed my girl," he whispers to me.

"You were just here like 30 minutes ago," I laughed, kissing his cheek back briskly.

He gave me a look like I was dumb. "You just gave me the best kiss of my life and told me to go; our first kiss, to be specific. Of course, I'm going to miss you. I'd miss you if I didn't see you for 10 seconds," he shrugs, leaning his chin on my shoulder.

"You're a dork."

"And you're a brat."

"Brat tamer."

"Nerd."

"Dumb-head."

I gasp at him playfully. "You take that back! I am not a dumb-head," I exclaim with a playful hurt pout.

Scott walked passed us saying: "Yeah, that was uncalled for, Stiles." Scott had a playful grin on his face and Stiles shoved him before returning to hug me.

"Give me another kiss and I'll think about taking it back," Stiles smirks down at me. Scott raises his eyebrows and covers his eyes.

I laugh at the two dorks. I cup Stiles' chin and guide his mouth to connect with mine. Once again, I forgot that other people were near. I only realized that there were people near when I heard some of the lacrosse team members cheer for Stiles. I pull back with a smile, breaking into a laugh at the childish team members I've grown to be familiar with and adore. "Shove off Greenburg, Johnson, Garcia, Austin, you too, don't think you're hidden behind the bench," I laugh, using the member's name.

"You're not allowed to call him Austin, it's Vaught."

I roll my eyes at Stiles and glance back to Austin. "Vaught, shove off." I then look back to Stiles and ask with sass, "Better? Pretty boy?" He nods quickly and pecks my lips, humming with approval and kissing it again and again. "Stiles!"

"I'm sorry," he laughs. I smack his ass, something I do all the time. He squeaks in and runs with Scott as well as his team members who were waiting for him to go to the locker room. I watch him laugh and jump on Scott's back. A few of the members jumped on his back as well and ended up dog-piling. "Boys! Go shower, y'all stink!" I laugh. A few of them laugh and call me mom and I just flip them off.

This was fun to write. And so cute as well. I hope you enjoyed it, I love y'all babes! <3<3<3 Happy Valentine's Day!!!

[lonelychicago]

you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

buck/eddie | teen and up | 2.1k words

“W-what are you doing here?” Buck’s eyes are so wide that Eddie thinks they’ll burst out of his face at any second, but his face quivers between curious and hopeful and maybe it’s wishful thinking but Eddie will take it anyway. He glances at the big banner hanging above Buck that says “Kiss a Firefighter, help save lives!” in big, fancy and intricate letters that are a bright pink with a pattern of crimson red hearts in them, and then his eyes flicker to the tip jar next to Buck’s arm, filled almost to the brim with dollar bills, coins and even a few phone numbers scrabbled in paper napkins. His gaze finally falls back on Buck. “What does it look like I’m doing here?” or: The LAFD throws a Valentine's Day charity event, there's a kissing booth and Eddie is definitely not going insane with jealousy.

read on ao3

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x f!reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; trevor x jamie x mason wc — 2.2k synopsis — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving?

note — happy valentine's day, my lovelies!! as my gift to you, i've decided to release whatever the hell this is from the archive <3 i randomly dropped this on patreon post-ficmas '24 because, per usual, i was possessed by the ghost of perpetual horniness! we know it'll happen again, so just know i am totally down to write a follow-up if there's any interest teehee! oh, and to the anons who requested some jd + tz content after the trade (rip), i hope this satisfies the craving!! (and you don't mind masey being thrown in the mix)

and with that... i’ll see myself out 🚶‍♀️

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! + trevor calling himself daddy (once) while being condescending to all parties lolz

“—stop getting in my way.”

"or what?"

silence.

then, an exasperated groan.

“i wouldn’t need to be in the way if you were doing it right.”

the long, drawn-out sigh you hear sounds far away, like an echo from somewhere out in the distance, but you know it's coming from behind you—directly behind you.

your boyfriend abandons the soft curves of your chest, which you vehemently protest with a petulant mewl, to massage the tension building between his eyes; if he’d known this would turn into such a headache, he never would’ve suggested this.

“clock’s running, boys. if you wanna waste your very limited time between my girl’s pretty legs bickering with each other, be my guest.”

jamie and mason exchange a glare, united in their distaste for their friend’s tone and attitude in spite of their sudden animosity toward one another.

a pretty girl could do that to a friend group.

only, you haven’t come between the trio in the way one might assume. you might’ve been the catalyst in jamie and mason’s current strife, sure, but that's where your meddling begins and ends. no, you’ve come between them in more of a physical sense, at the behest of your boyfriend and their best friend.

trevor zegras veered toward possessive—territorial, even—most days, but, tonight, he’s feeling strangely generous. it is the season of giving, after all. however, his kindness hardly felt like a gift anymore. the gesture lost its luster soon after the silky ribbon was untied and discarded... and the bitching began. charity work would be a more apt descriptor, in his humble opinion.

he’s expecting an edible arrangement from the ladies of orange county in the near future.

but if anyone deserves some compensation, it's most definitely you, and trevor has just the shiny something in mind. what was originally intended to be the crown jewel of your holiday gifts will now function as a “thank you letting my friends use you as a practice dummy” token of appreciation.

“guess we also need to teach you to share,” you huff, exhausted from the accidental edging and frustrated by trevor's shifted attention.

the worst part is that you don’t think they’re perceptive enough (or have enough experience with a woman’s body, even) to see the agony, the by-product of their inadvertent torture, smeared plainly across your dazed and dewy face. your boyfriend's best friends have unintentionally dragged you to the brink of insanity, and you're reluctantly hanging on by a fragile thread.

said boyfriend's lips caress your temple. “can’t say i blame them. with you freshly unwrapped—just out of the box—and all... i wouldn't know how to share you, either.”

eager is a nice way of putting the boys' behavior thus far, but selfish is a more befitting adjective for their uncoordinated fervor.

two interesting things to note since you were spread wide—presented—to your boyfriend’s closest friends and collegues. the first being that while jamie is enthralled by the way you clench around his lithe fingers, mason favors his mouth; and second, trevor’s harder than a rock from showering his friends with the same domineering aura usually reserved for you in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

(or, the backseat of his car. the abandoned lifeguard tower beside the pier and, on occasion, the recently refurbished dressing room.)

mason also enjoys spitting on your sensitive bits more than he’s comfortable with, the apprehension bright in his eyes. but, watching the run-off of his saliva and your syrupy arousal drip onto jamie’s fingers before both are shoved into your heat is too distracting to pay any mind to the internal chaos of unearthing a new and unforeseen kink.

what jamie lacks in skill and experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. for all his bashfulness, jamie drysdale is not shy about finger-fucking.

momentarily sat on his haunches, mason watches with feverish intent as his friend curls your toes with the simple curl of his marriage and middle, his pinky and pointer fingers splayed wide to keep his eye on the prize, sight unimpeded by plush, silky distractions.

no bells and whistles, just diligence.

soon, watching ceases to satiate the burly man and mason slips his own thumb into the mix. with his lips or his tongue—or his fingers, it now seems—mason mctavish is obsessed with your clit.

trevor shoots him a knowing wink; that's his favorite part, too. never do you make prettier sounds than when you’re having that special, highly-responsive bundle tended to. fingers, tongue, trevor's thigh... it doesn't matter, you fall apart all the same.

mason nudges jamie to one side and, much to your surprise, he goes without a fight this time, still stroking you closer and closer to the summit.

with his greater access, mason leans down. his nose splits duties with his thumb as he places wet, open-mouth kisses on your inner thighs, mons pubis, and, finally, the coveted pearl throbbing for affection. his mouth wraps around the little bud before pausing. he looks up for approval.

from trevor.

with the dip of his chin and a peck to your balmy cheek, your boyfriend encourages his best friend to suck on his girlfriend's clit.

mason needs no further coaxing. he alternates between suction and kitten-licks; his tongue was beginning to feel left out. all the while, jamie’s devoted fingers keep you pleasantly teetering on the end.

it's amazing the difference time and a little scolding can make.

“i think you’re enjoying this a little too much, bunny.”

“—m’sorry,” you whimper.

his warm, familiar chuckle fills your ear as he strokes your cheek. “i’m only teasing. you know how much i love watching you get all worked up. and, this way, i get to sit back and enjoy the view while they do all the dirty work.”

your eyes roll back, and his amusement grows louder.

“maybe, we’ll do this again? i wonder how fast they could get you off when they already know how the tricks.”

a raw, guttural sound claws past your lips.

trevor growls into your neck between love-bites. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, greedy girl? is my mouth not enough for you—y’need my friends’ too? such a slutty little bunny i have..."

"no—only want y-you."

it comes out in a few, demure hiccups, the clarity of your protest impeded by those and the frantic shaking of your head.

your boyfriend can't help but twist your mind when you're like this, too weak and preoccupied by pleasure to give him any lip. his brat's gone sweet, fully subdued. and now he can have a little fun.

“—i know, i know. no need to get all worked up over nothing, silly girl. but it wouldn't matter much if you did, though, right?" the hand cradling your chin moves your head in agreement; he knows you're too far gone—too fucked out, to function. "no, it wouldn't because daddy doesn't share his toys. he needs you all to himself."

in this moment, you aren't sure if trevor loves or loathes you.

“lost your voice, bunny? you’re strangely quiet for a slut i know is close. i can hear it, and i know you can too. we all know you're fucking soaked. go on, don't be shy. i think their good behavior has earned them some praise, hm? doin' so good at following my directions—almost as obedient as you are, pretty thing. be sweet, then you can cum all you want."

his words, coupled with the overstimulation between your bent and parted knees, send your brain down a cloudy, all-consuming spiral. too overwhelmed by the boys kneeling at your altar, you can hardly string together cohesive thoughts, let alone speak adequate praise for their efforts.

...as if trevor expected anything out of your mouth other than garbled, pathetic mumbling anyway.

not to mention, jamie found the spot that makes you see stars on the ceiling as his best friend was busy whispering filth into your ear, and he's been bullying it with his deft fingers—three of them now, buried down to the knuckle. he gives it a short, purposeful rub just to show off his treasure.

you shriek and buck your hips into mason's waiting mouth. as his head dips back down to nestle against you, the angle of jamie's fingers changes and your vision blurs just a tad.

trevor's amusement thunders in your ears as he keeps you from shying away from the new sensation, an arm looped around your waist keeping you tight to his bare chest. and good thing, too, seeing as mason's tongue slips in between jamie's fingers not a second later.

they're right and truly pleasuring you now, and you can't wait a second more.

you surrender.

and, as promised, you show them what real moans sound like from a woman—not that fake shit they subject you and trevor to through the walls on a semi-regular basis.

the sounds of you ripping at the seams spur them on, and it's starting to get difficult to discern who's to blame for the puddle beneath you. this are sloppier and more obscene than ever, and you're loving every single second of it, you almost feel like this is your gift and not theirs.

—which is why you nearly write it off as a trick of a pleasure-drunk mind.

you feel it against your sopping, swollen folds before they notice it themselves; in electing to run their tongues up and down the same path at the same time, their mouths mingled along the way—and continue to do so. the delicious, foreign sensation of their mouths tangled in a clandestine dance buys your silence. and easily.

sooner or later, they’d realize and your fun would mostly likely cease—they've never given any indication of feeling either way—and you weren’t about to speed the process along, especially not when you have the pearly gates in sight.

trevor's won't call attention to it either because he's enjoying it as much as you are. maybe more. he's twitching like crazy against the small of your back, and each time jamie and mason convene between your knees, his hips shamelessly rut into you softness like a feral dog.

he nudges you, warm lips against your cheek. "look."

giving your head a downward tilt, his firm hand directs your attention to the object of his—your boyfriend isn't the only one seeking respite by way of aimless grinding.

mason and jamie have their hips flush to your bed, their burning, sweat-stained cheeks glued to your inner thighs, one slightly scratchier than the other—the best of both worlds. their eyes are nearly black with lust. their frantic movements are more pleasure-seeking than precise, driving into the wrinkled sheets with just one thing in mind.

you've never seen anything quite like it before, and your body reacts in kind.

naturally, trevor sees the signs before anyone. he knows your body best, something he takes great pride in. you'd wager he knows more about what makes you tick than even you do. he's put in enough hours, that's for sure.

trevor doesn't bother disgusting the desire weighing on his voice, "beg."

your lips part as if on cue. your boyfriend (selfishly) indulges your pitiful little whines and repetitive pleas—he'll never pass up an opportunity to rub his handiwork in envious faces—but, eventually, he cuts you off before you get too far into the bit.

"—not you, silly bunny. them."

aghast, mason rips his mouth away and you whine at the sudden loss. jamie strokes your walls sympathetically.

"you're joking."

"does it sound like i'm joking, mctavish? you're lucky i'm even letting you see her like this, let alone touch what's mine, and it's a fucking privilege to watch her cum. convince me that you've earned it."

you weren't expecting to find it so erotic, the power trevor wields over them. you're no stranger to his persuasive prowess; his commands alone were enough to get you off some nights. but this is different, and markedly so.

watching him command his best friends—his friends, reducing them to docile creatures eager to eat from the palm of his hand with words alone, is what tips you over the edge.

their persistent chorus of compliance is swallowed entirely by your wanton cunt, but that was by design.

trevor always knows what you need.

when the dam in your abdomen fractures alongside your voice, he holds your wrists tight to his bare thighs, preventing you from grounding yourself in either of his friends' messy mops or finding purchase anywhere on his body. he can't have you distracted. he needs you to enjoy every second of it. your full, undivided attention must be on the pampering you're receiving, and the tender care with which his friends provide it.

it's okay if you're too weak—of mind, body or both—to make that happen for yourself. your boyfriend is more than willing to pin you down as you ride out your first high of the night. happy to, really.

on the come down, jamie rubs light, lazy circles over your sore, swollen clit almost apologetically. mason laps up your release because it'd be a crime to waste a drop—trevor made that abundantly clear earlier in the night. once he's drunk you dry, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"i think i could, um, use a bit more practice?" he announces bashfully—as if he didn't just make you squirt into his mouth.

jamie perks up at his side, fingers and lips still shiny. he's savoring the fruit of their labors like a precious delicacy, knowing it could be the last time he gets a taste. dark lashes shy and fluttering, his puppy-dog eyes blink up at you. "me too."

a wicked smirk forms on trevor's face; they see it, you hear it.

"gentlemen, how's your stroke game?"

💌 if you liked it, pls lmk! 💌

⬸ back to the catalog  (masterlist) 

⬸ back to the main blog 

All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2024 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

patrons gained access to this piece on december 29th, 2023 as part of their early bird perks. learn more HERE!

[thefallenangelsgang]

Did you love Death Shroud?

Have you ever heard of #FalloutForHope?

or the CHAD: Fallout 76 Podcast?

Kenneth Vigue, the creator of ALL of those wonderfully crazy things, needs our help!

As someone with PTSD, Ken's situation hits close to home. I've been so insanely lucky my father's union fought for the amazing health coverage I have. But, one day that will run out and I could also be in the same position Ken and his partner are in. And no one, NO ONE, deserves to be a slave to the corporations that run our healthcare systems. That's always been part of Fallout For Hope's mission. To not extend that courtesy to the most giving person I've had the pleasure to interact with feels wrong.

Any money helps!

I haven't and we haven't been okay for a long time now.

I've been urged to tell our story and ask for help, how one night changed everything for us. This podcast, the charity work we do has been the only thing I've clung to that keeps me going and has been an outlet for me as a caregiver. Behind the scenes what we've been through the last 7 years with C-PTSD and my husband Travis' mental health have been a nightmare we've been fighting out way out of. I don't know what else to do, so I'm asking for help this year. I've been suffering in silence and haven't even told friends the scope of this.

If you can help and are willing to help, it would be appreciated:

[nieded]

#RAINBOWROAD for Rainbow Railroad Charity Drive Redux Pre-Orders are open!

I am so excited to announce that I am taking preorders for copies of the entire #RAINBOWROAD trilogy starting today! Preorders will be open starting today, February 14th (happy Valentine's!) to March 13th. It will close at 11:59 MST.

Please reblog so we can spread the news!!!!

>>PRE-ORDER HERE<<

This past summer, I did a print run of the first part of the series, Sit Tight, Take Hold and printed 94 copies for charity. Many readers asked for books 2 & 3, and I had many others express interest in a 3-part bundle who missed the first run. I've spent November, December, and January prepping the next parts for print, and I'm so excited to share them with you.

So, what is included?

Option for a 3-book bundle including:

Book 1: Sit Tight Take Hold 424 pages on matte 80lb text paper, color printing throughout. Cover has matte lamination in color. Dimensions of the book are 6x9x.93. Weight ~2 lbs Art by Blairamok (See cover art above)

Book 2: How do you solve a problem like Ezira?, Accept a Little Spin, and Oh, there's a long way to go 408 pages on matte 80lb text paper, color printing throughout. Cover has matte lamination in color. Dimensions of the book are 6x9x.93. Weight ~2 lbs Art by DustandHalos (cover art below)

Book 3: Fools Rush In and bonus content, 0-60 in 3.5 468 pages on matte 80lb text paper, color printing throughout. Cover has matte lamination in color. Dimensions of the book are 6x9x1.06. Weight ~2lbs Art by Pyracantha (cover art below)

PDF copies of all three parts

Option for a 2-book bundle including only Parts 2 & 3 + PDF copies. This is an option for people who already own the first book.

Limited option for Part 1 discounted damaged books (15 available). This does not include PDFs. These books have cosmetic damage to the covers from shipping. Damage does no affect the print quality of the text.

Limited postcards that were extras from the first run (only 8 available)

Remaining Corvette Crowley posters, including A/B grade options, 12x18".

$20 PDFs of all stories that will include all the formatting of the print run and cover art! (Screenshots from the PDF proofs below)

Where are the proceeds going?

Rainbow Railroad is a North American-based organization that works globally to ensure safety and asylum to LGBTQIA+ individuals. This is the same charity we donated to last time, and it was a resounding success. Last time, we were able to fundraise $1,600!

Continued FAQ below:

How much does shipping cost?

For US residents, bundles will cost a flat fee of $10. They will ship via media mail through USPS.

For anyone outside of the US, shipping has been estimated through the cheapest carrier, either USPS or UPS minus $10. Unfortunately, I cannot control the cost of shipping, and I know that it is extraordinarily high. The bundles will weigh anywhere between 4-6+ lbs, which is expensive to ship.

Wait, I'm from the US. Why am I paying more for Media Mail?

While Media Mail typically would cost $4-6, the increased price is to offset international orders, whose shipping will cost anywhere from $20-60 with the discount. I hope you understand. I want to make this as accessible as I can without personally eating any costs. I am not making any profit off of this project.

When do orders ship?

Once pre-orders close on 3/13, I will order the books. There is typically a 2-4 week turn around for them to be printed and delivered to me. I then have to package and ship everything from my house. I hope to have everything shipped 1 month after pre-orders close, but I am only human.

US mail should take 2-8 days. International orders can take anywhere from 2-4 weeks, so please be patient.

If you are only ordering a damaged copy or postcards, both of which have already been printed, I will ship those out sooner.

When do I get my PDFs?

The PDFs and book proofs are the same, and they are 90% done. PDFs will be delivered via email by me once pre-orders close. I am still doing small changes and edits to make sure they are perfect!

If I order a bundle, do I also need to order PDFs if I want digital copies?

NO! PDFs are included with the bundles and only the bundles. You will not have access to them immediately, only once pre-orders close and I email them to you! Like I said, they are 90% finished, and I am stilling making small adjustments. (Kerning, I loathe you!)

What percent of proceeds are going to Rainbow Railroad?

100%! This excludes the cost of printing and shipping. For reference, the first print run cost $1,254 for the books alone, not including shipping and packaging supplies. Anything remaining goes directly to charity. I am not keeping any costs for labor or making any profit on this.

Wait, there's bonus content?

Remember when I said I was done after the trilogy? Well, @tut557 popped into the Discord server and said, 'Hey, what if they played Mario Kart...' This spiraled into a long conversation about all the different media promos they might do, and then I spent this past November writing another 50k of the #RAINBOWROAD universe for NaNoWriMo. This is also available on AO3, and I will be posting weekly while preorders are open. You can find it here.

[imagine--if]

"What am I to you" Bruce Wayne/Battinson x reader?!?

A/N: I kinda just went with the flow on this haha, there's a smidge of riddler x reader too but hi battinson peoples!! It's been a while 😁🖤 enjoyyy, sorry if I didn't follow the trope as much as you wanted bahaha

Wordcount: 798

"I'm sending you to Wayne Manor. You'll be safe there."

You blink up at the mystery man clad in all black in shock, rubbing at the mild red tape marks around your wrists. Wayne Manor? Was he joking?

"Wayne Manor?" you repeat incredulously. "You can't just go to Wayne Manor. Bruce Wayne lives in Wayne Manor."

The Batman doesn't look up at you as he gently pulls a hand away from your wrist, cleaning the agitated skin area with a softness that should be alien to the vigilante, who stalks troublemakers and maniacs each night, warding them off the streets by any extreme means that doesn't involve guns.

"He'll understand."

You gape at him in a daze, the night's events a blur, making your head hurt just thinking about it. Of course, whatever drug that dampened the towel The Riddler shoved in your face before you were whisked off to a cold, crumby hotel room can't be helping either, and you swear you can still feel the effects making you feel weak and shaky even after The Batman stormed into the scene, cutting it short with an untamed rage you'd never seen in those dark eyes before.

Before all this, you'd never properly met The Batman, least of all been saved by him. It was only now that The Riddler was targeting the corrupt, trying to prove himself to Batman, and save you, his so-called angel, a beacon in this dark, cesspool city, from the corruption and the dangers lurking around every corner. But, if anything, The Riddler seemed like a danger to you, constantly sending you love poems and riddles on old-fashioned, cheesy valentines cards and promising his followers and viewers of his streams and trials that another reason to carry out his acts of terror was for you.

"So- so pure, and innocent, and angelic... and they're being corrupted! The influence of this rich, disgusting vermin of the city is attacking the biggest influence and symbol of hope in this forsaken place! I'm going to do something... something spectacular. All you have to do is watch and wait for a little while longer..."

If you'd have known that donating to charities for orphans and helping out true detectives like James Gordon with crimes instead of being bought off by Falcone would gain this kind of attention, you might have thought twice. But here you are. Being obsessed over by a murderous genius, and protected by a vigilante mystery man.

"Do you know him?" you ask Batman in wonder, as he frees your wrist, treated carefully and delicately. "Mr Wayne? I don't know if he'd be happy with me staying there. I mean, he doesn't talk to many people and... well, no one really knows much about him."

"He can make an exception," Batman answers you. "This is serious. I don't want you going back home or anywhere by yourself until Riddler's behind bars. You're a part of his plan, too."

You sigh, putting your hoodie back on and pulling the sleeves over your hands, fingertips poking out of the material. "I know. But I'm not your responsibility. You have enough to do already."

"It's my responsibility to keep you safe," The Batman argues. "I'm sure you're a very capable person, but this is dangerous. People have died. You know that."

"I don't think he'll kill me," you say after a beat of thought passes.

"He won't," The Batman says. "He won't go near you again. I'll make sure of it."

"Well..." you struggle to find the words, confused, as Batman goes over to his car, like something out of a sci-fi movie. "Thank you. But why do you care so much?"

The Batman freezes, glancing over his shoulder at you with an unreadable expression.

"No, I mean," you continue quickly, "apart from the fact that you're a vigilante and a protector and all. Like, what am I to you?"

You cringe inwardly at yourself after hearing the words come out of your mouth, and at the masked man's bemused expression. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? He was only protecting you because there's a terrorist on the loose, right? What exactly are you expecting?

What you don't expect is for The Batman to take a heavy step towards you, offering you a gloved hand to help you into the vehicle. His hand lingers in yours when you're sat down and he hesitates, an odd look of - what, insecurity? Flustered, just a little? - written in his features as he looks you dead in the eye, the intensity making your breath catch in your throat.

"Probably more than you think," he replies after a few moments of silence, and then his hand slips out of yours as the engine roars to life.

⭒❃.✮:▹𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ◃:✮.❃⭒ (message me know if you want to be removed/added. ghost blogs/dead accs have been removed.)

@misadventures0fdes @junebugp @simestandswithtaylorswift-blog @carley-carley-carley @lostbunn @dragovegogrimborn @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @edwardspumpkinpie @murderbimbo00 @sweetums0kitty @beel-mcburger @cml-san @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @bimboanime @phoenixgurl030 @dangerouslittlefairy @yoyoanaria @yaeyuuki @vinxlsketches @beenz-beenz @ghoulsgraveyard @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @r3ptiliaaa @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowersleep @hxney-lemcn @callsigncrash @bokksieu @skateb0red @philiasoul@felicityofbakerstreet @deadlights-darling @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell

[sebsbarnes]

heeyyyy thank u soo muvh for doing my last req i am obsessedd. Im not sure if u can do this one but its juts a thought. tan x reader where they are in high school and the twins kind of just become besties with reader and they are just known as a trio in school and lem and tan are like the readers bodyguards cuz they are so protective if reader is ever in trouble and reader and tan are cushing on each other and its just cute

hi, of course! ty sm for sending requests in i appreciate it! im going to do this bullet point style i hope that's okay!

tangerine high school headcanon

warnings: the slightest! description of someone being a bully

masterlist

okay so i think tan and lemon wouldn't really take school seriously, like they still do well and are very smart but they didn't really pay attention much almost like they were too smart for school

they would sit in the back corner of class and just mess around but honestly the teachers didn't really care because they had good grades

you met the twins due to a class project, it needed to be done in groups of threes and it was your lucky day when the name sorter chose you for the twins!

you didn't mind though having talked occasionally to them in some of your shared classes. they were nice, funny, and smart and so are you

lemon grumbled how he didn't feel like working on it now

"want to come to my house after and we can do it then?"

the twins happily agreed and the three of you goofed off the rest of the period

having spent many hours with the twins you all grew very close and kinda became inseparable in school, you all had the same sense of humor and that drew you to each other

teachers and other students knew that it was no longer the lemon and tangerine duo but now a trio with you

one day during class you desperately needed to use the bathroom and the teacher started to yell at you that you should've went between class period

"if you don't let them use the bathroom i will piss all over your fucking floor," tangerine hissed at the teacher

yeah...he had a mouth even then

and no he didn't pee on the floor

while stood in line for lunch tangerine and lemon overheard some guys talking about you

"there's no way the twins are actually friends with them... such a loser, dude."

"gotta be a charity case situation... the twins are way too cool to be friends with someone like that, almost makes them losers too."

tangerine took his empty tray and wacked it across one of the guys heads while lemon sucker punched the other in the nose

"really guys?" you said disappointedly after waiting for them to get out of detention

your hand went up and gently touched the bruise forming around tangerine's eye

"they were talking bad about you! we weren't going to stand there and do nothing!"

"yeah well now you're injured!"

but they didn't care, you were worth every detention and injury they got for defending you

now tangerine, yeah, he is a sap okay. he'd try so hard to play it cool but he failed miserably

absent from school? he wants to go home. paired with someone else? might as well give him a zero now. overheard someone thought you were cute? hell no. walking next to each other in the hallway? yeah his hand touched yours. no space on the couch in your living room? no worries, he's squeezing next to you. you didn't bring lunch? now his is yours. you were upset over a bad grade? he basically ripped his shoulder off for you to cry on it.

if you were instructed to be quiet during class tangerine couldn't take it. he needed to talk to you at all times so without fail you'd feel the slight gush of wind as a folded piece of paper went flying over your shoulder and onto your desk. you'd open the paper to some absolute nonsense that wasn't dire scribbled in pencil but you'd always pick your pen up and responded and drop the note over your shoulder to him.

what sent him over the edge was you getting a flower on valentines day... yeah that's right you had people wanting to be yours and that bubbled a weird feeling inside tangerine... what was it.

"you have a crush, idiot," lemon thumped him on the head.

"no...no? on (y/n), funny... really fuckin' funny. me? having a crush on them? our best friend? there's no way."

lemon would raise a brow at tangerine, picking at his sandwich, "see how you're trying to convince yourself it's not true?"

yep, lemon was right. of course he was. the day the group project started lemon knew the two of you had a small crush on the other.

tangerine felt a tap on his shoulder, "excuse me, this is for you," a girl tapped him on the shoulder.

tangerine and lemon looked at each other bewildered at the flower being placed in front of him. there was a small note folded up with familiar handwriting

"be mine?"

[hairpintvrns]

Valentine’s glass was empty again. Their gaze drifted back and forth, searching for a waiter balancing a tray or two in their hand, only to find their immediate vicinity bereft of them. Pity. They held their gaze on the glass, mocking in its emptiness, furrowing their brow as if the force of their indignation might induce it to fill itself. 

No such luck. Still fucking empty. 

Valentine felt, more than saw, someone sliding up beside them. It took all the effort in the world to stifle their sight—for when would people realize that their silence was not an invitation for conversation? Their ears pricked slightly at the voice, undoubtedly feminine, prompting them to divert their attention from their glass and to the woman beside them.

Valentine didn’t know how to respond to the other’s remark without their words sounding a bit cutting. They supposed, in some way, that the value of a charity luncheon was commensurate with the sensuous appeal of the alcohol being served. But they’d been in several parties hosted by the brightest and richest where the quality of alcohol had been sorely lacking—only for Valentine to find that it was sourced from some rich cousin, a few times removed, who’d taken up winery as a hobby. “I suppose you’ve never been to a Weissberg function,” they commented, instead, “Saul’s so old money that his trust fund probably comes with a deed to some Connecticut ZIP code.” Now, that might not be true. Probably just a few multimillion-dollar estates in Bridgeport. 

The sudden sight of a waiter replenishing glasses nearby stirred them up in no small way. “Oh, God. I hope the alcohol isn’t too good that it’s already run out.” Though surely there would’ve been a contingency plan for that. Turning their attention back to the woman, they asked, “So, are you a resident?”

WHERE: charity luncheon. WHO: open! ( @bluestarters ) (0/5)

Normally— at least the last several years— the leg work was done for her. It’d been a long time since Opal had ventured into the sea on her own looking to score a big fish. With her partnership now dissolved, she was now realizing just how spoiled she’d been.

But she’d take freedom over easy any day.

Music swirled around her, people milling about and socializing, and she was doing her best to take stock of her situation, to watch and learn and find all the weak points she might infiltrate. Technically, the objective here wasn't to find a mark, it was to lay low, but it was hard not to fall back into old patterns.

But there was a delicate balance between watching and mingling, so she swirled the champagne around in her glass, sidling up to the closest person standing on their own. Easy prey.

"I feel like the alcohol served at these kinds of things tells you everything you need to know about the people that are running it. Cheap alcohol is usually a money grab. But this—" She held up her flute and took a delicate sip. "This makes me feel a little more confident that my money is actually going to a good cause. Although," she flashed a playful smirk, "that could just be the alcohol talking."