#I swear I literally almost cried

[wannabelaika]

my fav NPC <333

[gwydionae]

Never have I been more grateful that time travel exists in the X-Men universe.

[batbrainrot]

a coworker said i look like (zoë's) catwoman i can die happy now

[digiditto]

oughggggghhhh sadboy era got HANDS

[m00ngbin]

Last year was actually the worst year of my fucking life

This is just me complaining you don't have to read it but I need to get it out yk

[glitterhoof]

btw the little mermaid remake is my lifeblood i know i didn’t talk about it but i saw it the day after opening and its SO good.

[youryanderedaddy]

can you write gentle yandere taking their darling for the first time vs mean sadistic yandere taking them for the first time?

Btw I love ur work 💖💘💗

tw: female reader, non - con, kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, sadism, degradation, slut - shaming

Gentle ~

You know the type of guy I'm talking about. Big and buff, dark - haired, cries a lot. Watches romance movies in his free time and actually calls his mother even outside of the holiday season. Wears slutty little black fitted shirts after working out and brings you smoothies after work. He smiles and blushes. The man is a massive loser with an undying passion for anything nerdy, be it dragons, board games, collecting marks. Who would really expect this poor soul to hurt even a fly?

But he does.

It doesn't happen until months after he's taken you in. Most of the time he's being the perfect gentleman (aside from literally keeping you captive) - he cooks for you, brings you roses and chocolates (even when you throw them away or tear the petals from the flowers), cleans and doesn't make you lift a finger. He reads you poetry until your ears bleed. He tells you he loves you one hundred times a day and seemingly doesn't care about your snorts or the way you roll your eyes and push him away, already so used to your living situation you can't even find it in yourself to be scared. You think he's harmless - as harmless as a lovesick puppy.

But then one night he comes home, an unusual frown on his otherwise soft face. There is a certain type of madness in his hazel eyes. They are still so very soft and adoring, he still sees you as a Goddess in need of worship... but there is also something dark and muddy. Something possessive.

Your captor kisses you on the cheek and that much is granted - he does it every day, along with shouting "Honey, I'm home" at the door. He hugs you - tight. Tighter than ever before, it feels as if the man is trying to crush you in a suffocating embrace, like he wants to swallow you whole within his arms. For the first time you realise just how muscular he is - how much stronger he is. And then he picks you up like a blushing bride and leaves a quick peck on your forehead before taking you to the bedroom and carefully laying you down.

He doesn't give you time to ask questions - as soon as he steps a foot in your shared room, he's already tearing apart his clothes, revealing his ripped form.

"See anything you like, sweetness?" the man asks you, rubbing his hands together as he towers over you, caging you between two beefy arms. You stay silent for a moment, mouth agape at the suddenness of it all - you have never seen him like this. He starts caressing your cheeks and slowly moves down, and that's when it finally settles in your mind. You need to act quickly.

"Stop." you say authoritatively, just like you have done so many times before, praying it would work like it had in the past. But not now. This time he simply shakes his head, a crazed smile playing on his lips as he lowers his head and kisses your neck softly, lovingly. It's terrifying. You're not used to this. You don't know how to react. "Baby, I can't hold it in anymore." Your captor whispers, head resting against your shoulder, voice low and desperate - almost whiny.

"I really tried." he swallows thickly. "I swear. I tried cold showers a-and thinking about bad things but..." he bites his lip, staring at you. You look so small and helpless and, God, he respects you, he really does, but he can't help the way his crotch twitches and his pants tighten as he watches you squirm and tremble, oh-so-small and panicky, defenceless little hands scratching at his arms, but failing to make him budge.

"But every time I come home all pent up and annoyed after dealing with bastards all day, all I want is to bend you over," he continues after moving a lock of your hair out of the way so he can whisper directly into your naked ear. "And fuck-”, he says as he pins your hands to the bed frame, enjoying seeing you wiggle and pant. "The shit-" he can feel your heart beat faster and faster as your whole body gets warmer. It's awfully intimate. "Out of-" he's so excited now that he grabs your hips rather roughly, and ruts against your core, whimpering as his crotch rubs all over your clothed slit. "you".

He growls, now more akin to a lion or a bear than to a human.

He tries to enter you slowly so he wouldn’t hurt you, but the moment your tight velvety walls wrap around his hard throbbing length, he’s reduced to a feral whimpering mess, shoving at you in short sloppy thrusts, completely pussy - drunk. He lasts less than five minutes before he pulls out and cums all over your stomach, watching in fascination as his seed marks you. He slams his lips against yours, swallowing your hushed protests as he murmurs “Mine” over and over again, gripping your hips closer when he feels you pulling away.

Once his brain has cleared enough to be able to think properly he helps you clean up, touching you so gently you wonder if this wild, brutish side he exhibited was all but a dream. But it’s still very much there, barely contained under the surface - and one single moment of freedom and passion is enough to open Pandora's box. 

After that night he feels a lot more comfortable with touching you, for better or worse. 

Mean ~

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to your ‘new life’ before he basically pounces on you like a predator. To be completely honest, he’s wanted to fuck you within inches of your life since the time he first saw you - the only thing keeping him at bay for a while were the countless pretty pictures he had of you naked and writhing in your own bed in the comfort of your home that all the secret cameras he had installed managed to capture.

Before he used to treat your home footage like his own personal cam - girl show; sometimes he would wait to leave work, jerking all over your face on his screen the moment he gets home. Other times he wasn’t so patient, and he had to sneak off to the restroom any time a thought about you occurred, stroking himself to completion as he blasted his recordings of your quiet moans on his headphones.

But now you’re here in the flesh - the real thing, tied so tight you can’t move an inch, trembling all over just like a bunny caught in a trap by the hunter. He wants you completely immobilised - he’s waited ages for this moment and he wants absolutely no distractions getting in the way of him finally taking his price.

You sob pitifully, your mouth the only part of your body left uncovered, and you try to plead with him desperately. You promise him money, influence, anything he wants - whatever would be able to get you out of this hellish predicament. You even offer to give him a blowjob - which he simply sneers at, grabbing a fistfull of your hair. 

“Oh, doll, the night is still young. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He looks possessed, ready to feast on your flesh. You shiver, curling into yourself as much as possible - but he pulls your legs on both sides of his thighs, his hands seeming grand across your rickety ankles. “You’ll get your chance to choke on this cock soon enough.” He grabs his bulge crudely, massaging it through his thick stained grey pants. “Right now all I want is to see this cute little pussy stretched on my meat and those pretty tits bouncing in the air as I slap them red.”

It really doesn’t matter if you’re a virgin or not, you’re getting brutalised either way - although his comments would be different.

If you’re a virgin, he’s making sure you get the whole of his length in one - there is something terribly amusing about the toe - curling scream you let out as his cock tears you apart, something borderline pornographic in the way your brows twist and your nostrils flare, lips shut tight as to not give him the pleasure of hearing your pain out loud. But it’s obvious, and he wants you to know that he enjoys it through and through - licking your tears and the sweat off your neck, pinching at your thighs, your breasts, your stomach; whatever makes you cry the most. 

If you’re not a virgin, he still finds a way to get his fun out of you. 

“I don’t feel you clenching on me, you little slut.” He smacks your cheek with little force behind it - it’s not meant to hurt you, but to humiliate you and drive his point across. “Did you have a fucking train ran on you? I should have known you’d be a filthy whore.” He bites at your lower lip, pulling at it until he hears you whine pitifully - leaving his mark on you. “Should’a known with these cocksucking lips of yours, and ngh-” He sinks into you, voice breaking once the tip of his dick brushes against your cervix. “And t-those slutty hips, shit, keep squeezing me just like that, n-ngh, I am going to ruin you all over again!”

He fucks you for who knows how long - when he’s finally satisfied, the sun is already up and you’re drenched in sweat and cum. There isn’t a single part of your body that doesn’t ache.

He leaves you there, snickering at the sight of your empty stare fixed on the ceiling - only reaching to untie you and cuff your ankle to the bed frame instead. You weakly raise an eyebrow in question.

“Stay here until I come back, okay?” He grins with malice, caressing your wet matted hair. “Hah, not that you can really go anywhere.”

[penkura]

OP Men Holding Their Firstborn for the First Time

Note: This is in relation to my post of headcanons for these five men and their children. I just started thinking of which ones of them will cry, who will freak out over holding a tiny baby, who may reject the thought at first. And it came to this lol. I think the next one in this series will be names for the kids or babies taking their first steps! The baby fever is strong help. For now, please enjoy these men being soft about their offspring!

Ace almost has a heart attack when you try to pass your daughter to him, he swears he felt his heart jump into his throat when you ask if he wants to hold her, saying no that he's fine for now, but you insist he should. He doesn't do so for several hours, instead watching you with her as he works up the courage to have her in his arms.

What if my powers activate and I burn her? What if she cries and kicks? Oh lord, what I drop her??

"Ace, please. You need to hold her."

The look on your face, like you're begging him to hold her, finally makes Ace agree, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed to take your hours old daughter from you. You remind him to be careful of her head, make sure to support her, and smile when you finally get to see the two loves of your life together at last.

She doesn't fuss or cry or kick, instead staying fast asleep and seeming like she's snuggling into the warmth Ace radiates thanks to his Devil Fruit powers. He's just amazed by her, her tiny little nose and the beautiful, dark eyelashes that brush her chubby little cheeks. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen after you of course.

Ace fights not to cry but can't help the few tears that sneak out, wiping them away on his sleeve quickly, the one time he wears a shirt and it's the day you give birth to the newest love of his life.

Gosh, he always knew you were amazing. Now you've given him a family of his own, how could he ever repay you?

"Thank you for her...she's so perfect."

Ace can't seem to tear his eyes away from your daughter's little face, and that's okay with you. She's his baby too, he needs to have some time with her.

"What do you think we should name her, Ace?"

Oh. Oh crap, she does need a name huh?

~~

Law doesn't even have a chance to think about it, he's holding your son immediately after birth since he was the one to help you deliver obviously. Once your baby boy is wrapped in a towel Law hands him right to you before checking to make sure you're doing all right. Your vitals are all normal and stable, he's relived that you're both fine, while he watches you talk to your crying newborn.

You tell him that it doesn't count that he held your son right away since he's your and the boy's doctor, eventually getting Law to sit down and actually hold him as his father instead. Your son kept fussing and crying until Law finally got to hold him, the newborn quieting after a few moments but keeping his eyes shut tight and his little hands in fists as he kept whining.

Once he finally opens his eyes to stare up at Law, it's probably the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life apart from Bepo.

Especially once you catch sight of a few tears in Law’s eyes, making you smile softly as you lean back to just watch them. He's quick to rub at his eyes and make them stop, but the few sniffles you hear every bit tell you he's trying to stop himself from looking like a bigger baby than your literal baby he's holding.

He's never actually held a baby so tiny, not since Lammy was born. And to know this is his son, it's crazy to think about while he watches your baby boy start to fall asleep.

He really does wish his parents, sister, and Cora-san were there. They'd all love to meet your son, and you know he's thinking that, but you hope realizes that all the Heart Pirates are going to love your little boy just as much as his family would have.

And that eases the sting a bit, especially when they all do get to meet your son, and not a single one of them is without tears, beyond happy for you and their beloved captain.

~~

Penguin almost begs to hold your daughter once she's born and you're both stable. Law tries to push him away while he takes your daughter's vitals and measurements, asking how on earth you dealt with Penguin being so clingy the last nine months, which just makes you laugh.

"Go sit with your wife, damn it, I'll bring her over in a minute."

"But, captain--"

"Penguin, just come over here for now."

Penguin sits beside your bed and pouts until Law finally brings your daughter over, about to hand her to you before you direct him to your husband. Both ask if you're absolutely sure you want Penguin to hold her first, until you confirm it, and Law hands your daughter to her father, showing him the right away to hold her, before he leaves the three of you alone for a few minutes.

Penguin is absolutely enthralled with her. She's still fussy from being born, stretching out her little arms and legs, making cute little sounds, and he just can't believe she's finally here. He feels like you two waited an eternity for her to be born, now she has been! She's so small, she fits perfectly in his arms and it makes him want to cry so much.

"She's so tiny."

"And she looks just like you, Peng."

~~

Due to you having twins, you hold your son while Sanji holds your daughter, blubbering like the baby girl was because he's just so happy to have these babies with you. It makes you want to laugh hearing him cry, watching him kiss your daughter's forehead to try and calm her down while he dotes on her and you give your son attention.

"You're an angel, a perfect little gift from heaven!"

When you finally swap which baby you're each holding, Sanji still cries, happy to have a son too! He never really thought you'd have twins, or that they'd be fraternal on top of it! Both are so precious to him, you're precious to him, this little family you've now built together.

Your daughter has his hair, but your son looks just like you to Sanji. He kisses your son's forehead before looking at you and your newborn daughter, still unable to believe this is going to be his life from now on. You, and him, and your two tiny blessings.

"I love you so, so much."

He can't wait to call Zeff and let him know the good news.

~~

Zoro has no worries or qualms or tears when holding your son for the first time. Actually, it doesn't hit him for a few hours that he has a child now.

Your son is so quiet most of his first day outside the womb, sleeping and eating, only fussing when he needs something, but you're able to calm him down quickly. The way you're able to do that when this is your first baby impresses Zoro more than anything today.

It's only once you're asleep and he's holding your son again that it really gets to him. There's another person depending on him now, this one being his own flesh and blood, his newborn son that already looks just like him. His hands are so tiny, he's not even able to fully get his little fingers around one of Zoro's fingers.

Chopper made sure you both were left alone for the day, Zoro taking a bed next to yours and laying back with your son on his chest that night. That's when he realized just how small your baby is. His hand covered the newborn's back completely, his tiny hand fisting Zoro's shirt as he slept, small coos and whines coming from him every now and then. Zoro looks at you for a moment, before back to your son with a smile.

Your son may not have been planned, but Zoro's more than accepting of how his life is turning out.

~~

Note 2: I am absolutely willing to elaborate on these men and their children. If anyone wants to see something specific, just send me a message! I'll be posting more of my own thoughts too!

[g1rld1ary]

the way i see you ; remus lupin x reader

➻ synopsis: you're an artist, but you never let any of your friends see your work. they finally attend one of your exhibits and see your feelings on paper

➻ word count: 4346

➻ content: swearing, allusions to sex, gryffindor reader but literally mentioned once, no pronouns but implied to be fem reader, kissing, no war AU!!

➻ the remus brainrot is strong rn

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You were an artist, you had been the whole time the boys knew you. Even in first year as a shy eleven year old, you were always scribbling away in a little sketchbook that lived in the big pockets of your robes. The hobby only developed as you got older, expanding mediums and filling countless sketchbooks. When you weren’t studying (or even when you were supposed to be) it was almost a given that you’d be working on a piece somewhere, far from the prying eyes of others.

Your friends caught glances of your art sometimes, doodles on the corner of your essays or notes, maybe a stray page left out in your dorm which told them you were good, but you never ever willingly let them see it. They didn’t know why, truthfully, you didn’t know either, but it had always been that way and everyone had more or less accepted that.

“Have you ever drawn me?” Sirius asked one afternoon as you all sat out by the Black Lake, cocky grin on his face.

“’Course,” You answered simply, moving to turn back to your conversation with Remus.

“Wait, really?”

“Well you have to have drawn me then, right? Can’t just be Padfoot!” James cut in quickly, making you laugh, nodding.

“Before everyone starts asking, lets just establish that I’ve drawn all of you at some point, okay?” You thought that would calm them down, but it only riled them up further, much to your chagrin.

“And you haven’t shown us?” Marlene cried dramatically.

“I deserve to see you capture my beauty!” Sirius collapsed in an exaggerated performance and you couldn’t decide whether you were amused or embarrassed, giggling and hiding your face in Remus’ shoulder. He merely pat you on the shoulder, shooting you a fond gaze you couldn’t see. James caught it though, and smirked in a way that Remus knew he was about to be embarrassed.

“Have you drawn Moony?” He asked, and you both looked at him suddenly.

“Prongs, don’t,” Remus said sternly, then turning to you, “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer… I know they must ruin the picture.” He gestured down to his scars. You just looked at him for a moment, utterly baffled.

“As if some silly scars would stop me from drawing you,” You said, a sweet smile on your lips, “You’re my biggest inspiration, Moony.” He blushed at that but the rest of your friends tactfully ignored it, though the boys shot him some shit-eating looks.

It was probably true that you drew Remus the most, but it was only because you spent the most time with him! Or, that’s what you told yourself anyway. Remus Lupin was your best friend in the world, and you loved him more than anything. Since you were always together and hanging out, clearly you’d draw him more, it was perfectly natural!

Your study sessions together in the library often devolved quickly, essays abandoned to the side, both of you falling into chatter as you studied and sketched him.

“What’re you drawing, dove?” He’d always ask, knowing you’d never tell. You’d simply press your lips into a cheeky smile, shaking your head resolutely.

“Uh-uh,” You’d say, “An artist never reveals her secrets.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s magicians, stupid,” He laughed, running a hand through his curls.

“Oh,” You frowned, “Well I’m that too, aren’t I?”

“Hardly,” He snorted, “Your essays are more doodles than writing.”

“Hey, Slughorn gave me a whole extra mark for the portrait I drew last week, so none of that.”

Or you’d follow him out of the pub you were all in when Remus needed a smoke, sitting on the blacked out window ledge as he lit up. You thought he might have been the most beautiful person in the world when he smoked, the way the lighter brought out the gold flecks in his eyes and hair and the shadows of night emphasised his unreal bone structure. You’d probably drawn him in that exact scenario hundreds of times, but it wasn’t your fault he looked like a fallen angel. When he leaned over to give you a puff you took it gratefully, if only for the proximity. You weren’t much of a smoker, but for Remus you’d let your lungs rot.

It was moments like that where you’d wonder what it would be like to kiss him, lean past the cigarette and put your mouth on his. Sometimes you thought he wanted it too, the way he’d get slightly too close for best friends, his own hand being the one to stick the dart into your mouth, sometimes so close your lips brushed his fingers. Moments like that made you wonder if he loved you back. Then later, when everyone was drunker, you’d see him stick his tongue down some prettier girl’s throat and you’d remember your place as his best friend. If it stung you tried not to show it, letting some sleazy guy a few years older than you buy you drinks until Peter told you it was time to leave.

Still, you were mostly alright with just being friends with Remus. You still got most of the benefits; his conversation, his dry humour, the ability to look at his gorgeous face. Who needed everything else? Plus, you could draw him whenever you wanted, doing whatever you wanted — not in a weird way. Mostly. You still would never admit that you’d drawn him holding your hand, or kissing you, or other things you desired… The magic of art, right?

After years of bugging, you finally submitted to your friends constant nagging. The day that you officially graduated Hogwarts was an emotional one. Seven years of constant laughter and magic (both literal and the sentimental kind) were over, and the world seemed too large and intimidating compared to the familiar walls of your school. Yet there was no stopping it, and you were all Hogwarts graduates.

While all your parents cried and reminisced over coffee in the Great Hall, your friends had gone for one last deep conversation by the Black Lake. Discussions of the future were unavoidable, but were mostly positive. Talks of trips you’d take, apartments you’d live in and hell you’d raise. When you all quietened down slightly, struck by it being the last time you’d sit in front of the lake, you cleared your throat.

“Um, I have something for you guys, a graduation gift.” From your purse you pulled the envelopes, all filled with fancy cardstock from the art shop near your family home. You’d drawn a simple grey-lead portrait of each of your friends, framed with a little message of congratulations. You watched anxiously as they each opened the envelopes, nervous all the hype would make the art seem inconsequential. Your fear couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Sirius gasped dramatically as he saw what it was, but a genuine smile followed straight after. James burst straight into tears, hardly getting the picture all the way out. You could tell Lily was trying not to follow, but seeing her boyfriend cry set off the waterworks for her. Marlene and Mary were inspecting the others, pointing out the little details you’d put in, like Mary’s favourite daisy earrings or the slit Marlene had impulsively shaved into her eyebrow only a few weeks before. Peter was bright pink, flattered to the highest degree. Remus was hard to read, simply staring at you with the strangest look in his eye. You couldn’t ask him about it though, being ambushed with hugs from every direction.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this talent from us,” Peter said, the rest agreeing.

“Didn’t know we had our very own Da Vinci hiding behind a Gryffindor tie,” Marlene added, making you blush and grin.

You dreaded to imagine what it would look like from an outsider’s perspective, the eight of you teary, sweaty messes all piled on top of each other. Well, seven of you.

“Come on, Moony,” James called in a sing-song voice, “If you can’t submit to a hug at our graduation I am going to give you the biggest, slobberiest kiss and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.” Remus snorted, rolling his eyes.

“You look like absolute wankers,” Was all he said, but joined the pile nonetheless, and you were extra glad he was mainly holding on to you. When you all finally pulled away it was minutes later, but the whole thing was strangely cathartic.

“We all have to promise that we’ll always be friends, no matter what,” Mary said, putting her pinky finger out. The rest of you agreed, sticking your pinkies in for a very convoluted eight way promise. With that sorted your friends started heading back up the hill to the school building, ready to leave Hogwarts forever and prepare for a long night of heavy drinking. Remus held you back. James sent you a suggestive glance when he noticed but left it that, drawing Lily in for a bittersweet kiss.

You turned to Remus, only for his eyes to be locked on the portrait. You’d spent so much time trying to get it perfect for him, practising the stupid knot he insisted on tying every day despite the rest of the school going with a less convoluted method of wearing their ties.

“Do you like it?” You asked, subconsciously twisting your ring around your pointer finger. Remus let out a half laugh.

“I love it, honest. It’s insane, really. That you can make this just like that. It’s just…” You searched his eyes for the rest of the sentence. “You make me look…” He didn’t finish but you knew immediately what he meant. Remus hated looking at himself, training his eyes down in the bathroom and opting to always be the photographer so he didn’t have to see himself in the final product. You knew of course it was because of his scars, but you genuinely couldn’t believe he thought they were ugly, much less made him ugly.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, just once,” You sighed, grabbing his free hand and interlocking your fingers, leading him back to where the others were waiting.

Four years out of Hogwarts and you’d all kept your promise. Of course you didn’t see each other quite as much as the boarding school schedule allowed, but the boys all had an apartment together which brought you together often enough — except James and Lily who were married and had moved down to Godric’s Hollow to raise baby Harry. That similarly brought you all to meet often, all determined to spoil Harry as his aunts and uncles.

You weren’t a full-time artist professionally, though you still did it just as much. You’d evolved to paints by then; living with a muggle because the rent was cheap had the added bonus of not having to worry about leaving your paintings on the easel since you didn’t really care what they thought about your art anyway.

Your friends were all huddled in the boys’ apartment living room, every seat taken as you all caught up. You were on the couch with Remus, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair as his head rested on your lap. You still weren’t dating, but Lily always said you might as well have been. You laughed her off every time — if he hadn’t said anything by now how could he feel the same way? You tried to pretend it didn’t still sting.

You’d tried dating, Remus too. He’d had countless partners since you’d finished school — even more one night stands. Nothing lasted more than a few months. You’d done slightly better, you made it about a year with some bloke that Remus hated before he revealed himself as a colossal dickhead, and you’d been mostly single since.

The group was trying to organise their next meeting.

“What about the movies next Friday? I wanna see that new muggle film, Knife Runner,” James suggested and you and Remus both snorted.

“Blade Runner, love,” Lily corrected with a giggle and James burst out laughing, making a quick joke at his own expense. You’d dug your planner out of your purse to check your availability and frowned, closing the book quickly.

“I can’t do next Friday, sorry, how about Saturday?”

“And what plans have you got on a Friday night, you minx?” Mary asked with wiggling eyebrows. Even Remus looked interested, which made your heart stutter.

“Just a work thing,” You answered quickly, not wanting to reveal the real reason.

“You lie like a rug!” Marlene yelled, sitting up from her spot on the floor. You winced, you shouldn’t have made an excuse that she could so easily disprove, being in the same department of the ministry. “What plans are you too embarrassed to tell us about, slag?” You laughed shortly, their assumptions were so completely off.

“It’s not what you think—”

“Not what you think my arse, who’s ‘Davis Show’ and why is he surrounded by hearts, you absolute tart!” Sirius cried, displaying the planner for everyone to see. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, wheezing as you looked at your friends’ faux-scandalised expressions.

“Look you twats, Davis Show isn’t a man. I’ve been invited to put my art in a show at the Davis Gallery down on Welking Road next week. I can assure you I’m not shagging a man named Davis.”

The whiplash was immediate, the gossip sniffing exchanged for celebrations, you couldn’t tell whose yelling was whose. Peter immediately ran to the kitchen for a bottle of champagne, passing glasses around the room. When the initial excitement wore down you were subjected to a million questions, and tried to answer each of them patiently.

“I can’t believe you weren’t gonna tell us,” Mary pouted and you sighed.

“You know how I get about my art,” You explained, “It’s not that I don’t love you all, obviously, it just makes me so nervous thinking about you guys all seeing my stuff.”

“You know we’re all coming now, right?” James said, wiping his glasses where the champagne bubbles had created smudges.

“You really don’t have to,” You put in quickly, “It’s so embarrassing.”

“Why won’t you let us appreciate you?” Marlene whined.

“It’s just, my art is like an extension of my soul. I don’t think I’d be able to recover if you didn’t think it was good.” Your friends grew rowdy at that, offended you’d even think they wouldn’t adore your art no matter what. You felt Remus put a hand on your thigh and gave him a weak smile, knowing he’d shut down the conversation if you wanted him to. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing though, especially when everyone was being so supportive. You figured everyone was so busy they’d forget it by the next week anyway.

Friday came, and you were a wreck of nerves. Although you’d sold pieces here and there throughout the years, this show would be the first time your art would be displayed as a collective, and you were terrified of rejection.

You’d figured your friends weren’t actually coming since none of them had really mentioned anything since. Apart from Lily, of course, who’d sent an owl to your desk that morning with a sweet good luck note and your favourite chocolate.

Even Remus hadn’t said anything when you went for coffee on your lunch break. That did puzzle you, you knew he would never go if he thought it would make you uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like him as your best friend to forget something so monumental in your life. You thought he was acting kind of weird though, more affectionate than he usually was. He kept looking at you longer than he should, and you wondered if you’d miscounted how far away the next full moon was. When you asked him about it he just brushed it off, looking down at his tea instead like he’d been caught.

“I love you,” He said and you laughed.

“I love you too, Lupin!” You cooed, patting him softly on the hand.

“You’re amazing, you know?” You arched a brow.

“What are you trying to make up for?” You asked suspiciously, giving him a once over to search for answers.

“Nothing, promise,” He smiled in a way that made your knees a little weak, “I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“You’re gonna give me an ego,” You grumbled, packing up your things to get back to work. As you parted ways he pressed a kiss down to your cheek and you stumbled. Remus was never this affectionate as a person — a pat on the back, a hug if you needed one, yes, but he was never one for casual platonic kisses. You figured it must have been his way to apologise for not coming to the art show? But he knew you didn’t mind, so what was he apologising for? You tried to shake it off and get back to work, but you couldn’t get your closeness out of your head.

Evening fell and you were setting up your stall before the other patrons came in. Rearranging the paintings until you were pretty much perfectly happy, you looked around, still not fully believing you were really here. People were filtering in, well dressed and chattering softly as young waiters handed out flutes of champagne. You straightened out your silky black skirt in an effort to look more presentable, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

At first things were slow, and you almost regretted not inviting your friends, if only so they could make your area look more interesting. And once you let that thought in, you kind of regretted not inviting them anyway. After all, they were the dearest people in your life and this was such a meaningful event to you.

You couldn’t think about that for long though since people had begun to filter over to you, making polite small talk as they admired your paintings. You tried to be energetic, smiling widely if you ever locked eyes with someone. However, deep down, you just wanted your friends.

A little old woman approached you for a while, wanting to know the meaning behind basically every painting and you told her happily, sharing the memories that inspired each work.

“Seems like you’ve got some true friends,” She said, “I hope you keep them close.” You agreed, thanking her profusely as she bought a landscape of the Whomping Willow.

It was growing closer and closer to closing, and honestly, it had been a wonderful night. Seeing the way that people reacted and interacted with your art was a magical experience, and changed the way you thought about it entirely. You decided that if you ever got the opportunity again, you’d want to share it with everyone else.

You were just moving to start packing up when you heard a myriad of gasps.

“What the fuck, dude?” The unmistakeable voice of Marlene McKinnon said from behind you. You whipped around to meet them, breaking into a cheek splitting smile.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, rushing over to scoop them all up into a hug.

“Fuck that, why didn’t you tell us that we’re your exhibition?” Sirius cried, running up to examine the paintings more clearly.

“And that they’re literally professional?” Peter added, eyes wide in wonder. You flushed red under their praise. If your friends thought your pencil portraits were good, they were nothing compared to your paintings.

Plus, every one of them was of your friends, or something sentimental to you all. Landscapes of Hogwarts, portraits of your friends, captured memories of long summer days, or life sketches from when you were all together. You watched them observe the paintings with nervous excitement, loving as they gave specific, personal compliments that only people who truly knew you could give.

“This our apartment,” Sirius said, pointing to one of your biggest pieces, “That’s our couch, the pillow Prongs has permanently ruined with butterbeer, that’s Moony!”

“There are a lot of paintings of Moony, aren’t there?” James whispered to you, wiggling his eyebrows. You flushed again. Sirius continued on, seeming (or pretending) not to have heard.

“We have to have this in the flat. Right boys?” Your eyes widened.

“Really?”

“For sure,” Peter said, “I’m buying this one too.” He gestured to one of him and James playing chess in the Gryffindor common room.

“And this is taking pride of place at home.” James pointed to a portrait of his and Lily’s wedding, and Lily similarly chose one of her and baby Harry. Marlene took one of her and Mary on the beach and Mary took one of the group at a house party. Half your paintings ended up being sold by the end of the night, and you couldn’t feel luckier. The only one who hadn’t said anything was Remus, who couldn’t keep his eyes off the paintings.

You shooed your friends out of the gallery once it really was closing time, and got to work packing away your things. You were deep in thought, reflecting on the wild day when someone cleared their throat behind you. It was Remus, and he moved to help you put your things away, stacking the paintings between bubble wrap to protect them.

“These are really beautiful,” He said, “I mean, we knew you were talented but… these are seriously on another level.”

“Thanks, Remus.” You smiled, unable to make eye contact as you watched him handle all the paintings you’d done of him. Portraits like the others, but also studies of his hands — god you were obsessed with his hands — his profile, and one less than innocent picture of his back, scars resting over muscles. You probably shouldn’t have put that one out, but to be fair you didn’t know he’d see it.

There was a somewhat awkward silence between the two of you. Not uncomfortable, per se, but there were definitely things you both wanted to say that neither knew how to.

“Let me drive you home,” Remus settled on and you nodded, letting him help you load your work into the boot of his car. You sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly tapping your fingers on the dashboard to whatever radio station Remus had turned on. Remus stared straight ahead, knuckles pulled tight around the steering wheel.

“I’m really proud of you, you know. This whole show was incredible.” You went to thank him again but he kept talking. “I just wanted to know, um, there were a lot of paintings of me. I was just wondering why, why me?” You hesitated, unsure of what was going to come out of your mouth.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” You decided on with a bit of a sigh.

“You’ve said that before, what does that mean?” Your breath hitched. You definitely didn’t intend for it all to come out tonight, but if you didn’t say it now you doubted you ever would.

“You are the most beautiful person I know, Remus. I mean, even aside from your personality — which we know I have to be at least somewhat a fan of after all these years — you’re totally fit. Your eyes, your hair, God, your fucking bone structure, you’re literally a walking renaissance painting. And I know you think your scars make you ugly, but you don’t know how turned on I get thinking about how they’d feel on my skin.” Shit, you probably should’ve stopped talking.

You hadn’t realised he’d parked while you were rambling, but now you were sitting outside his apartment and he was looking at you with eyes that looked more like the wolf than him.

“I turn you on?” He whispered, voice suddenly gravelly as he leaned closer in to you.

“More than anything,” You breathed, brain buffering at the feeling of his breath on your face. Suddenly his mouth was on yours, hot and electric and not at all gentle. It felt like years of pent up frustration being let out all at once, and if he was anything like you, it probably was.

“Up,” He mumbled between kisses and you heard him undoing his seatbelt, hurrying to do the same. You barely disconnected to get out of the car, attaching yourself to his arm as he led the way up to the boys’ flat.

You made it up the three flights of stairs, not without Remus pushing you up against the stairwell wall to stick his tongue in your mouth, and stumbled straight into his bedroom, shedding layers as soon as the door was safely shut.

The next morning you awoke first, initially convinced you were dreaming when you saw him lying peacefully beside you. Eventually you rolled onto your side, ready to get out of bed for a glass of water when his nightstand caught your eye. There, in pride of place, was your graduation portrait of him, with a polaroid of the two of you stuck to the corner. Maybe he really had liked you as long as you’d liked him.

[ghysry]

Hii! Idk if ur requests r open, I’m sorry if there not, but I had an idea :3

I’m kinda obsessed with Brisket Five…and all the diner fives. Srry if this makes u uncomfortable but maybe a smut with Brisket Five?? IF NOT just some nice fluff would be nice. Something like Brisket hasn’t seen us and we died in his time line or something-so he’s just all over reader <3 Ty!

ERMMM I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO WRITE SMUT I AM SO SORRY

Pairings: Diner Fives, all obsessed with you, kisses everywhere, BRISKET FIVE *lick emoji* x Reader

Tags: brisket five, diner fives, Five Hargreeves, Five x reader, Five Hargreeves x reader, smut, can't even say this is smut, I swear I tried my best bro, did I forget SMUT

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

"Can't choose between us? Just choose all of us."

Well this certainly wasn't what you thought would happen after stepping into a random diner you found. You and Five had a fight about something stupid which led you to pettily step out of the subway and find yourself another place to go, which also proved your stupidity because only halfway off did you remember that it was a time subway and not a normal subway. Good god. Now you're here in the booth seat with your back on the cushion as you laid there and a Five that looks way cuter than the one you had a fight with kissing all over your face ranting about how much he's missed you.

"Mm..missed you, where have you," he kisses your right cheek, before trailing down to your jawline and pressing hefty kisses on your skin. "..been?" He had his legs on either side of you as you laid, making sure not to put too much weight on your body while one of his hands were messing with your hair and the other propping himself up. "Brisket Five are you done? Some of us want a turn, and I thought we agreed an hour per person?" Another Five in the background called out, folding his newspaper and rolling his eyes at the display of affection, knowing he himself would probably do something even worse, if not for all the people in the diner.

Brisket Five shrugged his shoulders, or tried his best to shrug his shoulders, before diving back in and pressing his nose on your neck, relishing in the familiar scent of your body. "Don't you ever die on me again.."

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

Who knew so many of them would be into voyeurism?

"Fuck--huff...ugh," This Five was a lot more vocal than the others that came before him, and a lot needier too. His hands were touching all up on your body, squeezing your breasts and dipping down to bite at your skin while he was still pumping in and out of you.

Literally every Five needs you carnally, WHATTT WHO SAID THATTT

"Don't ruin them, it's my turn after you." While another Five is watching you go braindead over some cock, his hand on his crotch and pressing down on the bulge, hissing at how painfully hard he's gotten.

You cried so prettily while Brisket Five was deep inside you that he came twice in the span of thirty minutes. Literally can't help it, would cum ten times if he could, you're just so pretty.

You find it a weird turn on when some of them are so needy and untouched that they cum in minutes..which is almost all of them..WHOO WROTE THAT, THAT WASNT ME

Some of them huff and pant and whimper like dogs in heat. Confirmed.

"Missed you.." while Brisket Five is bottoming out inside you

Aftercare is literally HEAVENLY

Kisses all over your body, warm blanket for good measure, lots of "you did so well today", then being wiped clean by a wet towel

You're fed a whole lot of food after it's insane

Trust me. They'll do anything for you.

[sleepyjuice]

. ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆ ୨୧ rafe and overstimulation ୨୧ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆

rafe who makes it his mission to give you as many orgasms as he possibly can until you’re literally on the verge of passing out because he is a ‘proactive type of person’ who can step up and do things that no one else can. it not only fuels his ego but it fills that part of him that needs to prove that he can do it all. and that’s something about him that is present in all aspects of his life. it’s no different in the bedroom.

your legs are quite literally trembling, your clit is beyond sensitive to where it almost hurts to touch it and you swear you’re seeing stars after orgasm number 7 of the night. “rafe, i don’t think i can anymore, ‘s too much.” you practically slurred, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead as you looked up at your boyfriend who was still lazily pumping his cock into your overstimulated pussy. it still felt good, but each orgasm that came was more powerful than the last and at this point you weren’t sure if you would be able to stand by tomorrow.

“shh, hey, i got you, just gimme one more, kay? you’re doing so good pretty girl.” he cooed in your ear, his voice so soft in contrast to his actions throughout the night. giving in to him, you nodded, feeling his thrusts speed up while his thumb found your sensitive clit again, making you hiss as the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain coated your nerves in an icy and fiery mix. the sounds that left your lips were almost inaudible, and it didn’t take long for your stomach to tighten once again, feeling orgasm number 8 on the brink of exploding out of you.

“oh god— gonna, ‘m gonna—“ you whimpered, reaching up with weak arms to wrap them around rafe’s sweaty neck. “i know, baby, let go for me, you got it.” he grunted, feeling his balls tighten and his cock twitch from its spot between your fluttering walls.

he quickened his movements on your clit, and that was all it took for you to come undone, your pussy clenching so tightly around rafe’s cock that it pushed him out of you and you squirted all over him, coating his already wet cock and sweaty abs. you cried out loudly as your release gushed out of you and rafe watched in awe, quickly grabbing his cock and pumping it as he released all over your stomach, loud and drawn out curses leaving his lips. “fucking christ, oh fuckkk.” he slurred as he came down from his own high, taking in the sight of your now limp body, perfectly fucked and coated in his cum.

“jesus, baby, ya pushed me out,” rafe panted and chuckled softly before leaning down to gingerly kiss your lips. “it’s okay, all done now. you did so good for me.” he praised you sweetly, pushing your sweaty hair out of your face. you were seconds away from sleep, but you felt rafe’s strong arms gently lift your body and carry you into the bathroom where he would make sure you got nice and cleaned up before you would sleep for a minimum of ten hours. you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as he sat you down on the toilet, knowing damn well that next time he was going to try for 9. god help your poor pussy.

[ainywanie]

૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა OF LOVE AND DREAMS

synopsis: or, in which a stressed out and overwhelmed kenji sato eats takeout with you and slow burn occurs.

requested by; anon / requests are open!

*⁠･⁠゜ﾟ⁠(⁠^⁠O⁠^⁠)⁠↝ read this as well in ao3

Baseball. Fatherhood. Ultraman.

What did those three things have in common? Absolutely none. That was the problem. Neither of those three things had any correlation which made it hell to learn how to split them all evenly. Had Kenji Sato found out earlier that his life would involve tons of juggling things around he would've signed up to be a clown instead of a celebrity.

“There ya go.” Kenji whispers, him in his Ultraman form cradled the adorable Emi who chirped and cried and did everything else but fall asleep in his arms. He's been having a long day and truthfully all he wants is to be less miserable than he was now.

He taps the girl’s back, the small Kaiju looking up at him with — which he swears he can practically see— literal stars in her eyes. “Daddy's here.”

Despite how normally he'd find some sense of contentment and probably even relief or satisfaction from finally soothing Emi from her distress, right now all his mind could try to even focus on was baseball and the fact the KDF were after Emi.

And, for a horrible moment, his heart clenches at the very thought of everything in his life just going away. He's already beating himself up with the recent games, he didn't need anything else adding onto that ever growing giant pile of lists on why Kenji Sato wasn't all that he said to be.

So, here he was, ready to just drown himself (and his sorrows) away with a can of unfortunately healthy coconut water. Couldn't a man drink and get drunk? A nice bottle of alcohol and wine would definitely hit just right for him at this moment.

“God damnit— Mina!” He exclaims, sighing and running his hand through his hair while he examines the drink in his hand, placing it down with a rather miserable expression. ‘This thing’s going to kill me before anything else’ He mutters to himself.

“It is best to incorporate a healthy lifestyle, especially with your many responsibilities lately.” Mina appears with her typical monotone and robotic voice.

“I'm as healthy as you can get.” He argues, walking around the rather huge kitchen he's got. Stardom tends to give out a whole heap of money, and that wasn't anything Kenji could just decline.

Mina stares at him —at least— he's sure if she were a real person with an actual human body she'd probably be staring at him with an unimpressed look. And then his mind flashes to his mother who'd also most likely be doing the same.

“I work out,” Kenji starts, deciding to defend his case. “I wake up early,” He adds, looking around the cupboards and making a mental note to get groceries soon. Soon would be way too far in the future. Soon is barely a day close to tomorrow considering he's already got a lot going on.

“I'm a professional athlete.” Kenji scoffs, leaning against the counter.

“Indeed you are. That is why I contacted—”

Just in time, the front door rings. He doesn't hesitate staring at the robot in disbelief and anger at the sudden visitor. As sudden as the visitor came, Mina promptly went away. “You've gotta be kidding,” He mutters, sighing as his hand rubs his temple while he walks over to the front door to see you at the other side.

His face falls, eyes widening in surprise as he didn't expect this whole thing. “What's up?” He asks, doing a 180 and attempting to be his typical suave self, though, internally he's already hitting himself for being so panicked.

What kind of greeting was ‘what’s up’?

“I bought take out.” You say with a smile, bringing up the paper bag filled with food and drinks and instantly it's almost like Kenji was a teenage girl. Nodding his head and promptly moving aside to let you in, he shuts the door behind you and follows after you into the kitchen.

“So,”

“So?”

He stares at you, watching as you take out plates and utensils for the two of you. “Seems like you've got this whole place down. I would've thought you owned the place instead.”

“I wish I owned this.” You only laugh, shrugging your shoulders, watching him stare at you and you swore he could melt things with how intense he's looking at you. “Seriously, when are you giving me the ownership of this house?”

He only rolls his eyes, walking over to you and nudging you lightly by the shoulder, helping you set the whole thing before he recognises the familiar look of the meal. It was from that one restaurant he'd promised to bring you but never got to.

“Thank you, by the way,” Kenji says, glancing at you from the corner of his eye with a soft smile. It was really the only thing he can say considering it was his mistake to have put all else before you.

“For the food?”

“For everything.” He corrects just before wincing at how absolutely lame and cheesy it sounded. “It sounded better in my head.” He quickly adds, watching you laugh.

“I'll take it.” You reply, enjoying how sweet he was being at the moment. It wasn't even a rare sight for him to treat you so nicely —he always did— but somehow something about the way he talked and looked at you just felt like something was up.

Kenji clears his throat, insisting you sit down on a chair next to him as you two dig into the food you bought from a restaurant that just opened up that you and him always talked about going to. “Wow, it's really good.” He says, glancing at you with a smile.

“Here, taste.” He holds up his chopsticks, the tempura in between as his other free hand is at the bottom opened up to catch any crumb that falls.

“Tastes good, right?” He asks without letting you get another word out as he eats more. “I should've brought you there— the restaurant. I think it would've been a nice experience for us.” He laments without another thought.

“It's fine. Eating takeout with you right now is the same as eating inside the place.” You assure, taking more bites of the meal. “Anyway, what's up with you lately?”

He raises a brow, turning a bit to the side to look at you as his hand stops midway before he takes another bite of his food. “Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I really?” He shrugs his shoulders, attempting to push and change the topic. Kenji feels his brows furrow as he pushes the rice in his bowl around with a clear frown.

“Ken.”

And god does it drive him crazy when you call him by just that: Ken. Not Sato, Kenji, nor Ultraman. Ken. Which was weird considering you weren't the first nor the only one calling him by that nickname, but all he knew was that the way it rolled off your tongue just melted him and made him feel good in a way.

Ken sighs, groaning somewhat. He knows there's no escaping you when you set your mind full onto something.

“Okay, I've been busy with other things.” He admits.

“You mean baseball?”

He almost corrected you. Almost. Unfortunately he remembered you weren't aware he was Ultraman or that he was technically the father of a huge 20-foot Kaiju that lives in his basement.

Ken sighs, looking at you with a rather sad and clearly exasperated look. It's clear that he's really tired with whatever he's been busy with. And truthfully, you didn't want him to feel like he was being forced to tell you the truth.

“You don't have to tell me.” You whisper, taking a hold of his hand and squeezing it as you look up at him with a smile. “You'll tell me about it anyway in the future. Eventually, at least I hope.”

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle as he looks at you with a certain gleam in his eye, his hand squeezing yours back. “Yeah. I probably will.”

“See? And whatever those ‘other’ things are,” You bring up, attempting to cheer him up. Your fist connects with his shoulder playfully before your hand just naturally rests there. “I'm sure you'll handle them just fine no matter what.”

“Besides, I'm here if you need help.”

“I know.” Ken looked over at you, his hand coming up to hold the one you had on his shoulder. He can't exactly find the words to explain things: whatever he's feeling, whatever this moment meant, or whatever you and him were. Why would he need to ponder on your relationship?

You both just sat there, looking at each other expecting something yet also nothing at the same time. Would he? Would you? Neither one of you had any idea on what to do.

“I could kiss you right now.”

Now it was your turn to look at him in astonishment at his blunt words. You could practically feel your eyes leaving your socket and your jaw falling open. “Excuse me?”

“Platonically.” Ken adds in a panic. He sounds surprised and shocked at what he said as if it wasn't him who literally said it out loud. “Like on the mouth— cheek. On the cheek.” He clears his throat, completely looking away from you now with both shame and horror evident in his expression as his fingers begin to drum on top of the table.

The air is tense. The place was now quiet save for the sound his fingers make as they tap. “I appreciate it,” You awkwardly reply, looking away and it's clear both of you are extremely flustered. “The kiss on the cheek.” You said but was that really all you wanted?

“You would?” Ken raises a brow, managing to find some strength in facing you despite the way his heart started to beat in his chest furiously. “Great. I guess we could.. Do that?” He clears his throat, once more already imagining himself hitting his head from the back with a bat. Why did he have to keep talking?

“Deal.”

Despite the tension, whether it be because of the awkwardness or something else entirely neither of you cared as you laughed and ate the food. He told you stories, about his childhood, his work, or whatever he's just been up to in general; and in turn, you told him hilarious and rather stupendous jokes you often hear from your coworkers, but it always makes him laugh so you suppose it does the job.

“— and then I accidentally hit her on the head so you can bet it wasn't nice afterwards.” He told you the story of him teaching Emi baseball, disguising Emi as a girl he babysits ‘on the side’ often whom he also grew pretty fond of watching over. “She's a sweet girl. Needy. But sweet.”

You laugh, enjoying his stories which were never dull and always filled with a sense of amazement every time he tells you one. “Well, what else did you expect from a kid?” You reply with an amused smile.

“I knew what to expect, okay?” He chuckles, shaking his head as his thoughts drift to his times of being with Emi and spending time with her who he practically saw as a daughter. “I just didn't expect things to be hard.”

You send him a raised brow and a playful smile. “If I didn't know any better, I would've thought this Emi was your daughter.” You comment. It wasn't really that hard for you to notice how proud he looked when he told you about this Emi. And frankly, this was even the first time he brought her up so it was a surprise for you to learn he even did babysitting as a side job.

Ken nearly chokes on his food at your words. He couldn't be that terrible at keeping his facts straight and making up a whole cover-up story, could he? He turns to you with a forced chuckle leaving his lips. “That just shows how she means to me now, yeah?” He attempts to reply.

“Guess so,”

Eventually, it was getting late, and not wanting you to travel alone back to your home, Ken had insisted you sleep in his room on his bed which surprises you.

“You've got two beds?” You ask, surprised but you follow him to his room nonetheless. In it, you're not surprised with how minimalistic the whole place is. Though you'd probably also be concerned if it was uncharacteristically decorated and done.

Ken raises a brow at you, gesturing to his single bed in the room. “Just that.” He answers, fixing up the bed for you before grabbing some extra blankets and bedsheets from his closet where he neatly places them on the floor.

“Don't sleep on the floor.” You say, stopping him before he can pull some of the pillows down. “I don't mind sharing.”

And so, now, here you both were. Laying down side by side and staring up at the ceiling as silence is present. You're both beneath the sheets, still somewhat wide awake.

“I really appreciate you coming over.” Ken whispers, shifting a bit so he's on his side and looking at you. “You were just what I needed.”

You smile, shifting as well to face him and so you're both staring at each other with wide grins yet shy looks. He was also what you needed. You could tell both your moods improved with just one dinner despite how uneventful it sounded, it meant a lot.

“Thanks, Ken.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

Baseball. Fatherhood. Ultraman.

Maybe he should seriously start wondering if he should also add love onto the list. But for now, with a quick kiss to your cheek (which takes you by surprise), Ken turns around and closes his eyes and feels himself start to dream.

[via-l0ve]

Hey-hey!! I'm so glad I came across your posts on SPN!!

Let's imagine that the reader has severe menstrual pain. I'd like to see the boys take care of her during "those days". If possible, add Gabriel, I love him soooo much.

Period Pains (SPN pref!)🩷

a/n: hi honey!!! i absolutely adore this request. from someone with terrible periods, im sending you hugs and kisses

warnings: periods/menstrual cycle, mention of pain, cramps and things like that!!

Dean:

dean is scared

idk at first he thought you were gonna die

he was so scared when you curled yourself up in a little ball

he learned to just go with whatever you wanted

cuddles? always. stay the fuck away from you? gladly

literally ask him for anything he will be out and grabbing it for you within two minutes.

he’s always stocked with products for you

he also always has heating pads and medicine for you. he’s so worried about your health

he wants to make sure you’re comfortable

he makes you stay in bed and no hunts until the bleeding stops

he gets you presents

—

Sam:

sam has a whole bag for you

emergency pads, tampons, extra underwear, medicine

he gets nervous

is ALWAYS right by your side

floods you with compliments and worries

“are you going to be okay?” “yes sam. just like every other month.”

“you’re so pretty, y/n.”

just. ugh. i love him

he will go out and buy you pads or tampons or cups or whatever the fuck you use with no shame

he tries to not make you mad or overwhelm you

he always takes off hunts to be with you

what a cute boy <3

he just wants the best for you

—

Castiel:

first of all, cas is horrified that you have to go through this

when you explain in detail why you get cramps, he swears he almost passes out

poor boy is so worried about his love

he tracks it on his phone

just so he can stock up on products for you

he writes you love letters and buys you candy

he also will watch all of your silly little movies with you

you don’t ever have to ask

—

Gabe:

Gabe is always tryna make you laugh

he’s very ill prepared and he dosent know what to do

he annoys you accidentally a lot and then gets scared when you yell/cry/other emotions

he buys you flowers for every day of your period

he also learned somewhere that orgasms help lessen the pain of period cramps so..

aaaaaanyways

he watches your movies with you and cooks food you for constantly

he cried with you at bambi

“the mom dies????”

“Y/N WHY WOULD YOU MAKE ME WATCH THIS?”

[stardust-sunset]

lol crying headcanons??

Ponyboy Curtis

He is a quiet crier

Like he just sits with his mouth slightly open and his eyes shut for a moment before he just lets out the quietest, most pitiful sob you’ve ever heard

He’s very sniffly and gaspy when he cries

I feel like he’s the type to apologize for crying because he has a toxic mindset when it comes to emotions

“I’m sorry, I *gasp* don’t know wh- *gasp* what happened, I…”

He can’t even finish his thoughts

He kinda likes to be held when he cries. He never openly admits it but the gang knows he just likes to be hugged so he can bury his face in someone’s shoulder

NEVER cries in public. Ever.

He waits until he gets home and locks himself in his room

Sodapop gets to him the fastest in terms of calming down. Darry is still learning but he’s Pony’s second best bet

He always cries after a nightmare. Every single time.

Soda wakes up almost every night to Pony’s face buried in his chest while he just trembles and he feels his chest getting wet with tears and snot

He doesn’t mind at all

One time Pony actually went to Darry and nearly scared the shit out of him until Darry realized it was just Pony

Hes very hiccupy too when he cries

Sodapop Curtis

Oh my god, the loudest crier you’ll ever hear

He sounds like he’s being strangled when he cries (out of sadness or anger at least)

Hes a huge bawl baby. I’m sorry. Even as a baby he constantly screamed and cried.

When he’s genuinely sad he literally just dinks to his knees. He’s not even trying to be dramatic. It’s like everything is weighing on his so hard he can’t stand up

When he’s angry crying that’s when you know he’s on the verge of yelling. He only goes off on Pony and Darry one time and it was directly after the death of their parents because Pony said something downright nasty to Darry about how if it weren’t for his birthday their parents would be alive and Darry shoots back with if Pong used his head more maybe they wouldn’t have had to go back for it

And Soda just bursts into tears and blows up

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! BOTH OF YOU! YOU DONT FUCKING TALK LIKE THAT ON MY PARENTS NAMES! YOU DONT FUCKING DO THAT! THEIR DEATHS WERE NEITHER OF YOUR FAULTS SO DONT YOU DARE FUCKING SAY THAT! DONT SAY THEIR GODDAMN NAMES IF YOURE JUST GONNA USE THEM IN YOUR ARGUMENTS! DONT EVER SAY THEIR FUCKING NAMES AGAIN!”

Pony and Darry just go quiet because Soda is standing there trembling like a chihuahua, tears streaking down his cheeks, his blonde hair a mess and his cheeks red as he quietly gasps for air and hiccups between words

That was the only time he ever really fully angry cried

When he happy cries he’s a straight up delight

His cheeks get all rosy and he has this big smile and he just lets out a mic between a laugh and a sob as he gathers whoever made him happy enough to cry in a bone crushing hug

Hes genuinely a pretty crier (fuck him honestly like stop being pretty for two seconds god)

His cheeks get all red and his brown eyes get all glimmery. He’s straight out of a fucking soap opera I swear

Bro uses up all his fuel crying. Whatever emotion it is afterwards he’s always like “Darry I want food :/“

Darry Curtis

Darry like…never cries. Ever.

But honestly? When he does cry he’s having a full blown mental breakdown or something has to happen to make him cry

In the book, Pony kinda said his chest shook when he sobbed and I kinda see that happening

He tends to tremble a lot when he cries. His hands get all shaky. That’s usually the first indicator he’s working himself up.

Second indicator is that his legs start bouncing and he starts pacing like a caged animal

Then he just starts sobbing. And it’s rough.

Like in the book I feel like when Pony came back he just ended up holding Pony in a bear hug while he ugly cried into Pony’s shoulder

He’s kind of a mess when he’s crying

He tries to soothe himself but honestly it doesn’t really work. So Sodapop takes over for a bit.

Soda knows exactly what to do and post book, Pony starts helping more too

Soda is the one to ground Darry when he cries. He’ll hold Darry, rub his back, rub his neck, play with his hair, whatever

Pony is more vocal. He helps bring Darry back to reality because usually Darry’s crying bouts come from anxiety and things from the past that pop up and give him a hard time

Pony knows all the breathing exercises and tends to help Darry out a lot with regulating breathing

Darry honestly just needs alone time after he cries. He cries so hard sometimes he just needs to go to sleep after

When this happens, Soda and Pony will do little things around the house. They fold the laundry, wash the dishes, one time they even deep cleaned his truck

They also leave little notes of envouragment around where they know Darry will see it. That also helps calm him down.

maybe i’ll make a pt 2 lol

[nejiverse]

THE THREE-LETTER WORD

Satoru Gojo

In which Gojo gets very upset that megumi won’t call him dad. Fem! Reader

cw: none, d/n is daughter’s name

580 words

You could sense Gojo pouting from behind you even without looking.

Being around Gojo for so long, you'd picked up talents and habits you didn't even know were possible to obtain.

"Are you gonna help or just stare at me?".

"Just stare at you", he mumbled back, his arms folded like a child.

Not like you wanted his help anyway. He always managed to cut the vegetables into shapes that didn't even have names. You rolled your eyes.

"Are you seriously that jealous?", you snickered, turning around to face your husband.

He looked at you as if you'd just said something offensive. "I am not jealous, just annoyed! I mean, I took him in—"

"Kidnapped actually", Megumi, who walked into the kitchen, d/n in his arms who wouldn't let him leave to get a quick drink without her. You figured the fussing you heard earlier from the little girl was because Megumi was about to leave the living room without her.

Gojo scowled. "I took him in", he repeated but slower this time. "Gave him a home, a name..", he rambled on, almost moping.

Megumi clicked his tongue. "Like hell you did".

Gojo ignored his smart comment. "And even after all that, he calls you mom but refuses to call me dad!", he cried out, burying his head in his arms.

Megumi's eyebrow furrowed in mortification, his cheeks warm. "Like i said earlier..it was a slip of the tongue", he would've preferred to not relive the sheer embarrassment but Gojo just had to flap his gums.

Gojo clasped his hands together. "C'mon Megumi!! Just say it once and I can die happy", he negotiated.

"Die sad", he responded as he noticed d/n sticking her tiny fingers into his bottle, wanting to get a taste of whatever he was having.

"You could've asked y'know", he shook his head playfully, causing the little girl to giggle.

Gojo looked at you and waved his arms around in the air. "Now he's ignoring me!".

Megumi groaned. “Fine, grandad. Happy now?”.

Gojo died.

Not literally but he swears he did. He let out the most dramatic gasp you’d ever heard in your life and swung around in the island barstool, hugging you around your waist and digging his head into your chest.

“What the hell Megumi!”, Gojo cried out. “I have feelings y’know!”.

Megumi blinked. “What? Technically I still called you dad. Besides you’ve white hair, you’re old, you basically fit the description”, he added, placing the little girl who was eager to console her father down on her feet.

“I AM NOT OLD! 28 ISN’T OLD”, he exclaimed, you sweatdropped and patted his back, watching as your daughter waddled up to Gojo, patting his leg with her eyebrows scrunched together.

He lifted the girl up so she was standing on his lap. “I’m not old princess, am I?”, he frowned.

She babbled and flailed her arms around as a response to his words which Gojo took as a no.

His face brightened. “Ha! The baby’s always right as they say!”.

You raised a brow. “Who said that?”.

“One of the founding fathers I think”.

You looked at Megumi with confusion who looked back at you, then at the idiot in the room. “Whatever helps you sleep at night honestly”.

masterlist :)

a/n: shiii forget megs i’ll call him daddy😔👊

[jeansplaytoy]

jean x thick!reader headcannons

sexual themes, smut, comfort, fluff.

jean LOVESSS your thighs, hips, waist, stomach, everything. he’s just really that typa person.

and love is literally an understatement. he adores them, worships them, this man will get on his knees for you, just to grab them.

he hates it whenever you’re like “baby, you think they’re too thick? like be for real.” because he loves them so much.

“hell nah they not too thick.” he’d say before rubbing them. “look at em. like jello.”

everywhere you go, his hands would have to be on your thighs. in the car, chilling on the couch, eating, eating, at a party, or any fancy dinner where he has to chance to sit right beside you.

he can’t resist them, asking for pics of them every time he’s out with his group or just not around you.

he loved squeezing them, just to make you jump a little and get your reaction

kissing your lips, your right thigh, then your left thigh whenever he was about to leave the house for a couple hours or minutes.

and he loves your waist.

he loves the way his scratch marks are on there every week, or couple of days if he’s really feening for you. but when isn’t he?

and he loves rubbing your belly, if you’re cuddling or something, he’ll randomly put his hand there and just start rubbing and every time you tell him to stop he’ll refuse.

he loves laying on your thighs, stomach, everything. and as much as he thinks it annoys you sometimes, he can’t help himself.

and when you sit on his lap, he loses control, but always tries to keep his cool, especially in public.

‘damn.’ he’d think to himself sometimes, staring right at it.

normally, in the comfort of your own home, he’d just pull you back to where your back was against his chest with a blunt in his left hand, slipping his right hand under your shirt and into your bra.

but in public, it was a whole different thing. he tried his best not to get hard at the sensation of you sitting directly on his lap, not even on his thigh. and when you glanced back at him with that ‘innocent’ ass look on your face, he’d give you almost a death stare before a small smile would creep on his face.

or when you’d walk in front of him and your hips moved gracefully with every step you took.

he just couldn’t get enough the chubbiness of some parts of your body. your arms, thighs, ass, cheeks, waist, and even when he’d catch a glance of your hip dips.

it was like even when you weren’t teasing him, you were teasing him. wearing his boxers, or those lace panties which you’d eventually have to get a new pair of, around the house.

and when your spaghetti strap shirt hugged just perfectly, showing all your curves and special spots. he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

and what he liked best was when you tried to get all mad at him over anything he did, even if he knew he was the reason you got mad, promise he’d always handle that shit.

“ah..! fuckkk..!” your eyebrows furrowed as he rammed, just balls deep into you, as nothing but wet and rapid sounds of your skin clapping against his own filled both of your ears. he sucked in air through his teeth and shook his head. “nah, yo ass was getting all mad earlier, repeat what you was saying.” he mumbled, exhaling smoke from his nose while he stared down at the way your ass and thighs moved from the impact.

you drove him fucking crazy.

tears formed at the corners of your eyes, gripping the sheets, swearing you felt them tear from the force, or maybe that was you.

“baby… mhh.. i don’t think i can take it…” you whined and whimpered, trying to get him to at least slow down. you suddenly felt a sharp sting on your ass, making you jump and moan louder. “p..please..!” you bit your lip, as you felt him dig his nails into your hips, pulling you back with each thrust he pulled off. “you feel so good ma, damn.” he whispered, ignoring your cries and pleas.

besides, you knew what happened when you got an attitude with him.

and when you were both on cloud 10, higher than you’ve ever been, or that’s what you two always thought, he loved it.

laying his head in between your thighs while lightly pulling at the ankle bracelet you wore. his eyes fixed on the tv, watching whatever cartoon you always thought was funny as hell when you were stoned and done.

or when one of his hands rested underneath your thigh and your calf, raising your knee a little higher than the other one, which he just let you rest up by yourself, while he rubbed on it.

he kissed the inside of your thigh, giving you your daily/weekly hickeys before biting on some spots.

you rested yourself on your hands, wanting to have a better view of him as you panted a little, biting your lip and rolling your eyes to the back of your head as soon as he kissed your clit, licking and sucking while your juices filled his tongue, stringing when he pulled away a little before continuing his normal routine.

he treated your pussy like your lips, you knew that much. slipping his tongue inside and slowly moving it around before taking it out and kissing at it again.

“mm… faster.. please.” you mumbled softly while the wet sounds filled the room, like always. jean lazily looked up at you as you moved your hips softly against his mouth, sticking one of his fingers inside of you and curling it right before pulling, not all the way out, but just enough to make you twitch a little when he pushed it back in.

he continued to suck and lick, listening to the way your soft moans filled the room. you used one of your hands to run your fingers through his hair, pushing his head closer to increase the pleasure. and each time, he’d let you.

removing his finger from your already swollen pussy, moving his arms underneath your thighs to massage your waist and hips while continuing to tongue fuck you.

and with his pink, sometimes red, low eyes, lashes looking prettier than usual, he loved the sight of you, whining to get through the pleasure.

“paint my face real pretty, mama.” he mumbled against you, as you pushed to do exactly what he said, nearly suffocating him as your thighs tightened around him.

he hummed a little, pulling your legs apart as you started to quiver and shake, the white, sticky substance all over his chin and mouth. and while he overstimulated you, you couldn’t help but tighten your legs up again.

but this time he let you.

he did love your thighs, after all.