#I was literally just going about my day and then this idea hit me like a truck and I couldn't do anything else until I drew this

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Just for the Taste

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Masturbation, smut. Word count: ~3k

Summary: Growing increasingly frustrated with the pace things are going at between her and Michael, his girlfriend takes matters into her own hands, quite literally.

Author's note: Day nine of Smuffmas - stockings and sex toys. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She had met Michael in her first month at Oxford university. It was a Saturday night and, unlike the vast majority of people living in her college, she had opted to stay in instead of hitting the town to spend her student loan in one of the many pubs. She had a tutorial on Monday and was determined to impress the computer scientist who would be leading it. Her entire weekend revolved around getting ahead with the required reading in order to have a full understanding of the previous week’s lecture topics. She wanted to be able to talk about them at length, and share her ideas in a comprehensive manner.

Her stomach had dropped as she had reached into her backpack, feeling that her Discrete Mathematics textbook was missing. She cursed under her breath, realising she had left it on the table in the Bodleian Old Library. It closed at 4pm on Saturdays, so she’d have to wait until it opened tomorrow to go and fetch it back.

A lack of a textbook wasn’t enough to deter her though. On average, of students that applied to the Computer Science course at Oxford, only 17% were interviewed, and only 5% were successful. She was acutely aware of how fortunate she was, but also how hard she’d worked to get here, and wasn’t about to let that lapse.

A thorough Google search yielded nothing useful, all of the PDFs she managed to unearth were outdated editions and would have been of no use to her. She decided to go door knocking – the time will pass anyway, she figured, and there might be someone in their room that had a copy of the textbook that she could borrow. A long shot, but it was either that or lose an evening of studying, and she wasn’t prepared to do that.

Unfortunately for her, the Computer Science course wasn’t an especially sociable one – the difficulty of the subject matter and competitive nature of the field it eventually lead into wasn’t a breeding ground for fast friendships, and with only 44 people on the course who were all more than happy to keep to themselves, she had no idea where any of them were actually staying. There had to be at least one in her college though.

The first three doors she knocked on yielded no response, the fourth was answered by a flustered, barely dressed girl, who stared at her in wide eyed bewilderment as a male voice from within the room called out “tell them to go away!”

Her skin ablaze with embarrassment, she descended the stairs and was fully prepared to give up after receiving no response from another two doors, before the one in the far corner creaked open, causing her to turn to face the noise. A bespectacled pair of blue eyes peered out at her, narrowed in suspicion.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

She glanced at her watch – just after 9.30pm. “Yeah, it’s not late…”

“What are you doing?” he asked her. His voice was quiet, but laced with derision. “Are you pissed?”

She shook her head, slowly approaching his door as she clasped her hands in front of her. His stare was piercing and intense, yet his posture was so rigid she got the sense that he’d likely slam the door on her if she moved too quickly.

“I haven’t been drinking,” she said apologetically, “just need to borrow a textbook. You’re not on my course so I doubt you could help me anyway.”

“What are you reading?” he asked, his posture softening slightly, though he didn’t open the door any wider.

“Computer Science.”

“Hmm. I’m reading Maths, so–”

Her eyes lit up, a surge of hope making her heart soar. “I need a copy of Discrete Mathematics,” she said excitedly, “I don’t suppose you have one?”

“Not a physical copy…”

She visibly deflated, her heart sinking in disappointment as her shoulders sagged. “Nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“I’ve got a PDF,” he said, opening the door wider as she turned to leave.

She stopped in her tracks, her gaze drifting to where his fingers clutched the USB drive that was clasped to the belt loop of his tan coloured cargo trousers with a carabiner clip. “From what year?” she asked quietly, as her eyes lifted back up to his.

“2005.”

She grinned. That was exactly the year she needed. “You’re an absolute lifesaver,” she told him, her voice breathy with relief.

“I think the file might be too big for me to send over email though,” he admitted.

“Could you not just lend me the flash drive? I can give it straight back tomorrow morning.”

He pursed his lips, eyeing her from head to toe. “How do I know you will? This is a one gigabyte USB drive, it’s valuable. You might steal it.”

She grinned, until she realised he was being serious. “I live in the room directly above yours,” she told him, gesturing upwards towards the ceiling, “so you’ll know where to find me.” She gave him her name, as she fiddled with the clasp of her watch, removing it from her wrist and holding it out to him. “Here, insurance, so you know I’m not trying to steal from you.”

The faintest hint of a smile ghosted across his lips as his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Alright, fine,” he relented, taking her watch from her and slipping it into his pocket. He unclipped the USB drive and handed it to her. “I’m Michael, by the way.”

“Thanks, Michael,” she said with a coy smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She made her way back upstairs to her room and spent the rest of the night studying then, true to her word, on her way to the library the following morning, she knocked on Michael’s door to give him back his USB drive.

“I’m glad to see you’re a woman of your word,” Michael said playfully, as she clipped the drive back onto his carabiner, his cheeks flushing at her close proximity.

She held out her wrist and, silently, he clasped her watch back around it. Her skin tingled as his fingers brushed across it, their eyes meeting as their breaths simultaneously caught in their throats.

From that moment on, her and Michael were inseparable. The attraction was instantaneous, deepened by a shared love of mathematics and a refusal to toe the line when it came to the unspoken social hierarchy in place at the university.

Michael was a virgin, and so they took things slowly. She had had a long term boyfriend before going away to university, so she had had sex, but wasn’t overwhelmingly experienced. The split between her and her ex had been amicable; both going away to study in entirely different cities, they had wanted to give each other the opportunity to focus on their respective courses, rather than the pressures of maintaining a long distance relationship.

Things often turned hot and heavy between her and Michael. As their kisses grew feverish, his hips grinding of their own accord against hers, she could feel he was hard, knew that he wanted her, but was often left disappointed when he would hurry to the bathroom for a cold shower before anything truly interesting could happen between them. She cared for him, so she was happy to wait, though the sexual frustration was beginning to take its toll on her.

She had never been more grateful for the bullet vibrator she had brought with her to university, though it was costing her a small fortune in batteries – it had never had so much use before.

Three months into their relationship, she was beginning to get desperate. They had arranged to watch a film in Michael’s room that evening, so she decided to make it more than obvious that she was eager to take things a step further.

She pulled on lace topped hold up stockings and a black, lacy lingerie set, covering it with the red woolen jumper that Michael had left in her room the last time he was there. It fell to her mid thigh, so it wasn't immediately obvious that she had no other clothing on underneath.

They had fallen into the comfortable habit of leaving their doors unlocked when they were expecting each other to come over, so that they wouldn’t have to knock. She let herself straight into his room, finding Michael hunched over at his desk, fiddling with a Blockbuster DVD case to open it, so he could insert the disc into the CD drive of his laptop.

“What we watching then?” she asked, letting her rucksack drop from her shoulder onto the floor as she perched on the edge of his bed.

“Revenge of the Sith,” he answered, turning in his seat to look at her, “it’s a Star Wars film. I thought, erm…”

He trailed off, his lips parting slightly as he pushed his glasses up his nose. She followed his line of sight, seeing that the hem of his jumper had ridden up as she’d sat on the bed, revealing the lacy tops of her stockings. She smiled, knowing her outfit was having the desired effect, before looking back at him.

“You thought what?” she asked innocently, settling back properly on the bed as she moved a pillow behind her to lean against. She didn’t bother to pull the jumper back down, wanting to leave no room for doubt as to what her intentions were.

Michael swallowed thickly, before shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, let’s just watch the film.”

As the film played, she could hardly concentrate, the closeness of Michael next to her, the heat of his body so close to hers was a distraction. Their fingers were entwined upon the sheets between them, a gesture of closeness and intimacy, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more.

Slowly, she moved his hand onto her thigh, leaving their fingers interwoven there for a few moments while she gauged his reaction. His eyes flitted to hers and he offered her a tight smile before he returned his attention back to his laptop screen. He made no attempt to move his hand away, so she left it there.

Gradually, she disentangled her fingers from his, pulling her hand away until only his remained on top of her thigh. His thumb absentmindedly began to stroke at the lace of her stocking, tracing the swirling pattern of the material as he continued to watch the film.

She had no idea what was occurring on the screen; the light sabers, the red and black face of Darth Maul, it was all just a blur of colour to her as her pulse raced beneath Michael’s touch. His hand moved higher, fingertips brushing against the soft skin of her inner thigh. It took all of her restraint not to just grab his hand and place it where she needed him most, knowing that she shouldn’t rush him. At a maddeningly slow pace his fingers inched their way up, her core throbbing with desire and the crotch of her knickers growing damp with arousal the closer he got. As his fingertips reached the hem of her underwear, so close to pushing underneath, the credits of the film began to roll and Michael moved his hand away, climbing off of the bed towards the desk where the laptop sat.

She wanted to scream in frustration, every nerve ending in her body felt ablaze, desperate to feel something, anything and he was painfully oblivious to all of it.

Not in the mood to answer his questions about what she had thought about what they had just watched – she hadn’t been paying attention anyway – she stood up, tugging the jumper down and slipping the shoes back on.

“Night then,” she called over her shoulder, not giving him a chance to respond as she hurried out of his room and back up the stairs towards her own.

She knew she was being rude and incredibly unfair to Michael, and that they would likely have to discuss at some point how his apprehension towards physical intimacy was affecting her, but right now she was a pent up mess of hormones and arousal and she needed release.

Slamming the door closed the moment she stepped into her room, she flopped down onto the bed, roughly tugging her underwear down her legs and tossing it to one side. She reached into the bedside table drawer, feeling around until her fingers wrapped around the familiar shape of her bullet vibrator.

Thank god, she thought, switching it on and bringing it between her legs, sighing in relief as she pressed it against her swollen clit and her eyes fluttered closed. Her breaths grew heavier as she moved the toy in tight circles to aid the gentle rumble against her sensitive bundle of nerves.

She froze as the door swung to, her eyes snapping open to see Michael standing there.

“Hey, you left your bag, so I– oh, shit, sorry!”

“Wait!” she pleaded, turning the toy off and chucking it down onto the bed as she moved into a sitting position. “Don’t go.”

He let her rucksack drop to the floor beside his feet, closing the door behind him and resting his back against it. His eyes were glued to the floor, his cheeks ablaze as he struggled to find the words. “Were you…were you…um…”

“Yeah, yeah, I was,” she admitted shamefully, feeling her skin grow warm with humiliation.

“Is that why you left so quickly? Because you wanted to…”

He looked so dejected, so sad, so hurt, it made her want to burst into tears. She’d have done anything to take away the furrow of his brow, the disappointed look in his eyes. “Yes,” she whispered, hating herself for the answer.

“Do you not want to with me then?” he asked, his voice so soft she had to strain to hear it.

“Of course I do,” she insisted, “that’s why I was doing…what I was doing.”

“I don’t understand,” he admitted, finally looking up to meet her eye, his back still pressed against the door as she sat on the bed.

She sighed, raking a hand through her hair, unable to keep the frustration from her voice as she tried to explain. “I want you, Michael, but I appreciate that you’re a virgin and I don’t want to push you before you’re ready. I have needs though, I’m sorry…”

“You shouldn’t have to apologise for that,” he reassured her, pushing away from the door and slowly approaching the bed, “I am ready, I just never realised you wanted to, you never said.”

“I’ve been dropping hints left and right, did you not see what I was wearing tonight?”

“Yeah, my jumper,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck, “just assumed you hadn’t done any washing for a while.”

She groaned, fighting the urge to laugh – for an intelligent guy, he could be so incredibly dense. “I want to fuck you! Is that clear enough?”

Michael nodded, his gaze falling upon the toy that lay discarded beside her. “I don’t know what I’m doing though. I’ve always just been able to do maths in my head, never needed a calculator before, but I know they help people. Maybe that–” he pointed towards the vibrator, “could be my calculator, could help me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Show me how to fuck you.”

The bluntness took her breath away, but the intensity of his stare left no room for argument. “Alright,” she nodded, picking the toy up once more.

Michael stepped clumsily out of his shoes, then moved to the foot of the bed, kneeling upon it. “Go on then, show me.”

She could feel nervous excitement fluttering in her belly as she laid back, allowing her legs to fall open, giving him an unobstructed view of her most intimate area, before she pressed the bullet back against herself and switched it on.

Michael inhaled sharply, his hands coming to rest upon the knees of her bent legs, holding them open as he watched her intently. “What does it feel like?”

“It…it feels good,” she whispered breathlessly, slowly circling the toy against her bud, “there’s pressure, but it feels nice.” 

She gazed up at him as she panted and moaned softly, seeing the way his pupils dilated subtly. His hands moved to his belt, tugging it open, causing her to bite her lip, a mixture of arousal, curiosity and disbelief all fought for dominance in her pleasure-addled mind as she watched him unzip his trousers and free his hardened length. It was long, thick and slightly curved, the tip weeping with arousal.

“Can I?” he asked, gently grasping her wrist to coax her hand away from herself. 

She nodded, allowing him to move her arm to her side, the toy still buzzing in her hand. She gasped as he replaced the toy with the flushed head of his cock, rubbing it in circular motions, allowing it to notch against her clitoral hood.

“Like this?” he asked, his voice strained, and she simply nodded, desperately fighting the urge to buck her hips from the exquisite pressure he was applying.

“Shouldn’t…shouldn’t your first time be special?” she uttered, voice thick with desire.

“We’re not fucking, we’re learning,” he said softly, his gaze never moving from between her thighs as he continued to stroke himself through her slick folds, “and besides, it being with you automatically makes it special.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, they would have been romantic were it not for the lewdness of what they were doing.

“Now,” he said, pulling back slightly and grabbing her wrist again, “show me what else you do with this toy.”

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[drunkinyourbenz]

can you do a billie with reader who has her period and it feels like literal hell please?

୨ৎ whatever you need. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff

୨ৎ content: period cramps (obviously), overwhelmed reader, established relationship, this is soooo fluffy and billie's big on physical affection!!

୨ৎ note: anon baby u read my mind my period started today and ugh it’s literal hell so writing this came sooo naturally to me because this is exactly what i need rn (cried while writing this i'm so so emotional) i tried very hard not to make it super specific to my experiences so this is basically my morning minus my specific symptoms and plus billie!! i hope this brings u some much needed comfort baby, we're in this together <3

when you woke up, the sun was barely even peeking through the curtains, and your room was still bathed in darkness. you reached for your phone, groaning at the bright screen and rubbing your bleary eyes. two am, that’s what your phone read. that’s when it hit you, the sharp pain in your lower abdomen, a pain so intense you had no idea how you hadn’t noticed it straight away. you groaned, rolling over in bed and burying your head in your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut. your nails dug into your palms, anything to distract you from the constant excruciating pain you were feeling. 

after about half an hour, you dragged yourself out of bed. you trudged into the kitchen, where you ate half a mandarin before taking some pain medication. the meds didn’t tend to work, but you’d do anything to think you were making it better. you managed to force yourself to take a quick shower, just to freshen up. after the shower, you got changed into one of billie’s oversized t-shirts and some shorts, and you collapsed back into your bed. you were well aware that you should get yourself a heating pad, but you didn’t have the energy. 

after about half an hour of laying there with your legs hugged halfway to your chest, begging for the cramps to just disappear magically, you remembered something. today was a day where billie had a big surprise date planned out for you, and you really didn’t want to be a buzzkill, but… 

you grabbed your phone again, going straight to billie’s contact. you typed out a few messages, deleting them over and over again, before finally settling on one. 

hi baby, i’m so sorry i don’t think i can make our date 

it didn’t take long for billie to respond, and just over a minute later, you had a new text from her. there was no disappointment or frustration in the message, just concern.

bils: you okay angel? it’s 3am?

you stared at the text for a moment before responding simply.

eh, cramps. 

that time, her response was instant. you could picture the concerned expression on her face, and you were hit with a wave of adoration for her. she just cared so much. 

bils: aw baby, i’m coming over rn, okay??

no bils it’s 3am you don’t have to don’t wanna be a bother 

bils: please, u could never bother me bils: i’m coming over, end of story

you pouted softly, overwhelmed with love for her. 

i love you

bils: i love you more bils: anything you need me to bring?

just you and maggie’s baking if u have any

bils: ofc ofc i’m omw mama

before you knew it, billie had gotten to your place. you heard your front door open, she had a spare key that she used once in a while in situations like this or when you weren’t home. you heard her soft footsteps approaching your room, and soon enough your door opened and she walked in. she had on some sweatpants and a baggy hoodie, and a bag in her hands. 

“hi, angel.” she walked up to your bed, leaning down and kissing your forehead. her voice was soft and soothing, and you were reminded then that you could literally just listen to her talk for hours on end.

you opened your mouth to speak, but she continued talking before you could. “i brought some of mum’s cookies, you can have as many as you want. anything you need? can i get you a heating pad or some tea? what about pain meds?”

in reality, all you wanted was to curl up in bed to her and cling to her like she was your lifeline, but you knew that a heating pad would be the wise decision. so you nodded, “i’ve taken my pain meds, but a heating pad would be nice…”

billie quickly left the room and grabbed you a heating pad, passing it to you so you could put it wherever was most comfortable. she looked like she was about to ask what else you needed, so you bet her to it. you opened your arms up, holding them out for her and pouting up at her from the bed. a smile spread across her lips, and she didn’t waste time climbing under the covers with you and wrapping her arms around you. her fingers found your hair, and she let them gently brush through it. 

your head nuzzled into the crook of billie’s neck as you closed your eyes, fiddling with the edge of her hoodie to try and distract yourself from the pain. you could feel her eyes on you, and after a long moment, you lifted your head from where you’d hidden it. “i’m sorry ‘bout our date. i know you planned it all out.” your voice came out in a mumble, muffled against billie’s shoulder. 

she kept stroking your hair softly, “don’t apologise, baby. it’s totally out of your control. plus, there’ll be other days we can reschedule it to. i’d rather you be at home and comfortable.” she paused to press a kiss to the top of your head. “i love you, and i’d go wherever you asked, even at 3am. you’re not burdening me with anything, i promise.” 

you could already feel yourself getting overwhelmed with emotions at her sweet words, another thing that your period often caused. you groaned softly, burying your head back into the crook of her neck. “shut up, i’ll cry if you keep being so cute.”

billie just giggled, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, then your forehead, then your nose. “love youuu!” she said in a singsong voice, clearly trying to distract you from the fact that the date couldn’t go ahead. 

you knew that she was trying to take your mind off it, and you didn’t mind. it was reassuring that she was happy just to be there with you. the two of you spent a while just cuddled up together, when another wave of cramps hit. your cramps were constant, but some definitely worse than others. you groaned under your breath, your grip subconsciously tightening on the hem of billie’s hoodie.

she looked down at you, asking again with that ever so soothing voice. “need anything, angel?” 

you simply hummed, trying your best not to just double over in pain and not speak for the rest of the day. after a moment, you mumbled, “herbal tea? and maggie’s cookies?” 

billie leaned down and kissed your forehead, “at your service.” 

she spoke with a small playful grin on her face, and slipped out of the bed. she returned a few minutes later, a mug of lavender tea in her hands and a plate of maggie’s cookies. after placing those on your bedside table, she reached for her bag, pulling out another hoodie. it was one of the ones she wore most, and therefore also one of the ones that you wore most. you were the hoodie thief of the relationship, and billie certainly didn’t mind—if anything, she encouraged it. 

she slipped the hoodie over your head, and you let out a sigh when her smell enveloped you. it smelt like a mix of her perfume and that one moisturiser she used every single day and loved more than life itself. you hummed in satisfaction, “this one’s my favourite.”

billie chuckled, slipping your arms into the hoodie. “trust me, i’m well aware.”

she held the mug of tea up to your lips so you could take a sip, and she felt her heart warm at the small smile that spread across your lips. 

soon, billie slipped back into bed with you. the cramps were still tearing you apart from the inside and you still felt like absolute hell, but at least she was there with you—that made it a tiny bit better. 

the next half hour passed in a comfortable silence, the only movements being billie giving you a gentle kiss or stroking your hair. it didn’t take long, however, for a thought that you had pushed from your frustrated mind to return. it lingered there, clawing at your brain until you finally spoke. 

“i hate that this happened so close to christmas. i still have presents to wrap. i had so much i needed to do, and now i’m just–” 

“i can wrap your presents.” billie’s calming voice cut through the mess of thoughts in your brain, and you fell silent—only for a moment, though. 

“but–” 

“shhh, baby. no buts. i’ll wrap any presents that aren’t for me. i want to help you, yeah?” 

a pout made it’s way to your lips, “you’re too good to me. i can wrap maggie’s and—” 

“angel, i’m not going to tell my family what you got them. just let me help you, yeah?” 

after a long pause, you relented. “...yeah. thank you.” billie smiled, kissing your forehead once again and squeezing your hand. “It’s nothing. i’ll stay with you today: wrap your presents, make a nice warm dinner, run you a bath, and cuddle you to sleep.” 

at that, your heart practically melted. you weren’t sure if it was the period making you extra emotional or just the love you held in your heart for her. you were so full of adoration for this girl, you had no idea how she managed to be so completely and utterly perfect. she knew you like the back of her hand, she knew just how to make your day better, she knew just how to bring that smile to your face. sometimes you swore she knew you better than you knew yourself. 

you spoke again, your voice soft. “what did i ever do to deserve someone as perfect as you?” 

billie smiled and kissed your forehead again. “you deserve all the good things in the world, my beautiful girl. i’m just lucky to be one of them.”

[s6rine]

a sweet disaster

(megumi bday special!) | main masterlist

pairing : megumi fushiguro x gn!reader synopsis : it's megumi's birthday! what's the best way to celebrate it despite megumi obviously not wanting a party? to entrust nobara and yuji with his cake! tags : fluff i think i have no idea on how to tag stuff, drabble, pre-established relationship AHHHHHHHHHH, writing these tags earlier on but like uhm uhm uhm NOT PROOFREAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OFFICER PUT THE GUN DOWN!!!!!! (update: babi lei proofread it what would i do w/o my wonderful beautiful gorgeous queen 💔), i cant write kageyama for SHIZ even tho theyre the same holy cannoli, lower case work intended perchance, yes yuji got beat, its a little lazy gn its 4 am zzzzzzzz word count : 0.4k a/n : happy birthday tpo MY baby 😭💔 i was gonna write for tobio but even tho theyre like the exact same i just cannot but trust one day i'll make up for it...........perchance❓

a/n pt.2 : my vision was something very similar happened last year… like im imagining last year they tried to smash his face into the cake but someone moved it at the cake at the wrong time at his face hit the table instead ykwim

DECEMBER 14, 1:32 PM megumi doesn’t like birthdays.

not because he hates fun or celebrations, but because, in his mind, having a whole day dedicated to yourself feels unnecessary when there are millions of people born on the same day. what’s so special about it? it’s just another date on the calendar. he doesn’t get the hype, and frankly, he doesn’t care to.

and he’s not shy about saying so—even to you.

"you what?" you exclaim, coming to an abrupt halt. "who doesn’t like birthdays? it’s literally the day you were born! it’s supposed to be special!"

megumi lets out a long, tired sigh, rolling his eyes in your direction.

"it’s not special. at least not to me," he mutters. "and celebrating getting one year closer to dying? seems dumb. plus, they never go right. for me at least." his hands bury themselves in his pockets as he keeps walking, not sparing you a glance.

you quickly catch up, narrowing your eyes at him. "that’s the most depressing thing i’ve ever heard! birthdays are about celebrating life, not… getting morbid. you’re alive, you made it another year, and you deserve cake! lots of cake!"

he shrugs, barely reacting. "cake’s too sweet."

you scowl, a spark of playful annoyance lighting in your chest. you shove his shoulder lightly, earning a grunt as he stumbles a step.

"you’re so lame!"

"good to know." he mutters with a sigh.

DECEMBER 22, 4:19 PM "you’re officially banned from picking restaurants." megumi’s voice is flat as he unlocks his dorm room, both of you slipping off your shoes. "that tapioca was awful. undercooked."

you’ve been oddly quiet since leaving, lips pressed tight like you’re holding back laughter. megumi notices immediately, his eyes narrowing as he stops in the entryway.

"what’s so funny?" he deadpans, his gaze flicking to your face and then over his shoulder. it doesn’t take him long to put the pieces together.

he sighs, already defeated. "seriously?" he asks, just as nobara shoves yuji too hard in the kitchen.

it all happens in slow motion—the cake colliding with megumi’s face, the frosting sticking for a moment before it slides down in one messy lump. the room falls silent except for yuji’s grunt as nobara decks him on the back of the head.

megumi stands frozen, wiping frosting from his cheek with a scowl.

“…we should've listened to gojo-sensei when he said cupcakes were… the better option…” nobara mutters, inching backward cautiously.

maybe he was right—birthday parties never seem to work out for megumi. seems like a repeat of last year.

p.s. : a second birthday date made up for it.

© 𝐒𝟔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 | please do not edit, translate or plagiarize my work ! all banners belong to me, please give credits if used !

[n0vazsq]

Amor | Marc Bernal x Reader

pairing . . . marc bernal x gf!reader

summary . . . Marc surprises you with a tattoo of your initials for your two year anniversary

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1.1k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . ok thats it i need marc in my life right now right here

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

. . . It was a typical day; quiet, simple, and peaceful, until Marc had a little surprise up his sleeve. Literally.

You had no idea what he was planning for your two year anniversary, but when he picked you up in his car that afternoon, there was something about the way he was acting that made you suspicious.

He was unusually quiet, glancing at you with that soft, knowing smile of his, like he was holding onto a secret.

You couldn’t figure out what was going on, but you’d learned that when Marc had something up his sleeve, it was always worth the wait.

"Where are we going?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you pulled your seatbelt tight.

Marc just smirked, one hand briefly brushing against yours as he drove. "Patience, amor. You’ll see soon enough."

Your curiosity only grew the closer you got to the destination. You’d been to the area before, but never to this particular street, which had several small shops.

Marc turned into a parking lot, then quickly hopped out of the car, running around to open the door for you.

You glanced up at him, confused. "Marc, what’s going on?"

"Just trust me," he said, his smile only growing wider. "It’s a surprise. And I promise you’re going to love it."

With that, he led you inside a small tattoo studio that you hadn’t noticed before, its dark, cozy interior decorated with sketches and pictures of tattoos.

The air smelled like ink and something comforting, and you felt a small flutter of nerves in your stomach.

"Marc?" you questioned, looking up at him with confusion. "What’s happening?"

Marc laughed, a troublesome glint in his eyes as he walked over to the front desk. "You’ll see. Just relax, okay?"

Your heart skipped a beat as the realization hit you. "You’re getting a tattoo?"

His grin was all teeth as he shrugged, but then his expression softened, and he took your hand in his, leading you toward a seat near the back.

"I’m getting something for you, amor," he said quietly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your wrist.

You blinked, completely surprised. "For me? What do you mean?"

Marc’s eyes sparkled with affection. "For our two year anniversary," he murmured, kneeling down beside you as he motioned for you to sit.

He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to you, revealing a design that took your breath away.

It was simple yet deeply meaningful; a small, elegant tattoo of your initials in Marc's handwriting that seemed to be written with so much love. There, at the bottom, were two small hearts.

Your heart skipped when you realized what it was.

"This is… for me?" you whispered, your fingers grazing over the design in awe.

Marc nodded, his gaze intense as he looked at you with soft, almost nervous eyes. "Yeah. I wanted to do something meaningful. Something that showed how much you mean to me."

You were speechless for a moment, the enormity of his gesture washing over you. "Marc… I don’t even know what to say."

He laughed softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know, in my own way, how much I love you. And how much these two years have meant to me."

Before you could speak, a tattoo artist walked over, greeting Marc with a warm smile. He briefly explained what was going to happen, setting up the equipment.

Marc glanced back at you one last time before taking a seat on the chair, rolling up his sleeve and getting ready for the tattoo to begin.

You watched him carefully, your emotions swirling. There was a nervousness in his eyes, but also a quiet confidence that he was doing something important.

For you. And for the love you two shared. He reached out, taking your hand in his with a gentle squeeze as the needle buzzed to life.

"It’s okay, amor," Marc murmured, his voice steady as you sat beside him. "You’re here with me, right?"

"Of course," you whispered, your heart swelling with affection for him.

As the tattoo began to take shape on his skin, you stayed close, sitting beside him, never once letting go of his hand.

The room was filled with the sound of the needle as the artist worked, but it was Marc’s soft, steady breathing and the way he kept glancing over at you with that same loving gaze that made your heart race.

Once it was done, Marc stood up, revealing the tattoo that now sat proudly on his skin. The sight of your initials, forever etched into his arm, made you feel a rush of emotions.

Love, admiration, gratitude.

Marc smiled down at you, his expression vulnerable and soft. "I wanted to carry you with me always," he said, his voice gentle. "To remind me of the best two years of my life."

Tears stung your eyes, and you could hardly hold back the overwhelming emotions that bubbled up. "Marc… this is… this is the most incredible thing anyone’s ever done for me."

He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there. "I’m glad you love it, mi cielo. I’ll carry you with me, always."

You pulled him into a tight embrace, your heart full to bursting with love and gratitude. "I love you so much, Marc. I really do."

"And I love you more than anything," he whispered, holding you close as you both stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms.

He kissed the top of your head gently before pulling back just enough to look at you. "Happy anniversary, mi amor. Here’s to many more years of love, memories, and tattoos that remind us of how much we mean to each other."

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face as you looked at him, at the tattoo that symbolized the two of you, your love, your bond, your forever.

"Happy anniversary, Marc," you said, your voice thick with emotion as you kissed him softly on the lips. "I’ll love you for all of time."

And in that moment, with your initials on his arm and your heart completely and utterly his, you knew you were both ready to spend the rest of your lives together.

[informaltorching]

tell us about vesper gaining humanity 👁️👁️ i've never witnessed this in a game myself

Okay so, huge disclaimer: This is not how you gain humanity RAW. So, I apologize if that part is a bit of a let down. Sometimes we do things that just narrative-wise feels good because we are all just friends playing a game of imaginary vampires. I am gonna write a lil about some ooc / personal stuff as well. TL;DR: Owen's player schemed.

So, I don't know how closely you may follow my chronicle, but if you aren't aware, Vesper is the cringe fail loser vampire of all time. He kind of has had almost only bad things happen to him every day since before his embrace lmao and this has definitely continued on in our chronicle. The chronicle itself is also just kind of heavy. It is taken a little too seriously (by all of us) and we definitely embrace that there is darkness in World of Darkness. I think that is why I have a little bit of a tendency to post more about silly things / jokes than the game itself. I LOVE the game. Do not get me wrong. I enjoy the atmosphere and the intensity. It is more my speed, which is why I play in it. This is the best table and game I have ever gotten to be a part of. That being said, I think recently we got a little too overkill with it. We had to kick a player and then a lot of sessions after have been a bit overly dreary. Normally not a big deal, but it adds up when you get into that rhythm a bit. Vesper has kind of taken it hard. Like the others have problems, too, but it has become a bit of a theme that various characters both PCs and SPCs are afraid Vesper is going to say fuck it and get himself killed. He is very reckless as is. ( And I'll admit I've been having a lot of personal issues and very sad recently. ) Owen has a pigeon named Drone. Whenever Owen talks to Drone, I have a little joke going that Vesper gets envious. He wants to talk to birds, too :( So, Owen's player got the idea to talk to some thin-bloods to get a counterfeit discipline of feral whispers for Vesper. And they kept this as a surprise. Only, Owen had to really earn that shit because the thin-blood they spoke to tasked them with a very over the top fetch quests. Where Owen kept being like "we need to go to this dangerous ass place to get this weird ingredient and I am not telling you guys why". (This was over the course of multiple sessions.) They finally got everything they needed and was given the potion last session. So, Owen hit up Vesper to meet them at the fucking zoo. And Vesper literally just finished watching the tremere banish a possessed demonic statue meanwhile... and the fucker tells Vesper it is an emergency...

And well, we spent the end of the session fucking losing it because Vesper and Owen were at the zoo talking to animals. Our ST does the funniest fucking red panda voice. We had a blast. Owen gave Vesper basically a heartfelt I love you, you're my best friend, and I want you to stick around talk. Then ST dropped the "Vesper add another dot of humanity." Which was a big shock. He reasoned that Owen did way too much just for Vesper to only heal some WP from that and it just felt really fitting. It was a really nice breath of fresh air. We ARE going to resume the themes of tragedy, death, and gruesomeness next session. But yeah... It was very sweet.

[triscishistrionic]

HI SINCE U ARE THE HPD HAVER OF TUMBLR DO U HAVE ANY TRANSHPD TIPS????!!1????!1!??1!1?1!!!?

YES I FUCKING DO!!! /LH NBR POS

I meant to make a master post abt this but, HAVE SOME RN!!!!!!!1!1!1!

TIP 1: Make everything a bigger deal than it needs to be!

Even if something doesnt really interest you a lot, pretend like it does.

If someone says something kind of dry or vague, make it seem interesting!! Use all caps, or if you're irl, talk fast and loud! Say a lot about something that there isnt a lot to say about.

For example, someone says, "I'm hungry." You might sayy, "O MY GOSH, when's the last time you've ate?? We NEED to get you something to eat, what's your favorite food? OOOOO, you know what, mine is actually Graham crackers and I have some on me RNRN, do you want some?? You know you can ask for food from me ANYTIME, riiiight? You're my bestest friend, I'd do ANYTHING for you if you asked really."

If you're irl, MAKE SURE TO GIVE THEM TIME TO ANSWER U BACK IN BETWEEN!! They might be put off if they dont get to talk as well, which is bad!! The goal is to be entertaining enough to keep them around as long as possible, or as long as they're attention is worthy.

TIP 2: Fake your interests and morals to match everyone elses!

Sometimes, you'll find that your opinions or interests are different than everyone else's. This is generally not good, because it can cause conflict with other people, or they might find you angering or unrelatable. Not good for attention seeking!

What you want to do instead is fit in with everyone else's beliefs while still making a statement of your own.

For example, if you find yourself in a group of people who love the musical Hamilton, but you hate Hamilton, you should try to push that aside and fake your love for it! You not only want to be agreeable, but you also want to stand out. For example:

Person A: "Oh my god guys, I watched Hamilton again last night and it was SOOO good."

Person B: "OH MY GOSH yes, it's literally my favotieee musical"

Person C: "oh yeah, me too!"

You: "OH MY GOD GUYS, you have NOOOO idea, I would literally die to go see Hamilton again. I've seen the musical like, 20 times already and it's so GOOD it's LITERALLY like my baby."

Person A: "ITS MY FAVORITE TOO IVE LITERALLY SEEN IT PROBABLY 25 TIMES NOW"

You: "WELL, MY AUNT LITERALLY PLAYS AS ONE OF THE BACKGROUND CHARACTERS IN IT, LIKE IN THE OFFICIAL SHOW THEY DO. SHE HAD LIKE 50,000 PEOPLE WATCHING IT WAS CRAZY, SHE TOLD ME ONE OF THE MAIN CHARACTERS SHE WAS ACTING WITH LITERALLY TRIED TO HIT ON HER TOO DURING THE NIGHT OF THE SHOW."

You can see that person A is a formidable opponent here. Clearly they are a Hamilton lover and extroverted, and tried to one-up you there. But you need to be the BEST, the shining star! You are now the number one Hamilton fan and no one can prove themselves otherwise!

You might need to cut other people off before they start speaking if they're more boring, like person C. The convo will get much less exciting if they have more room to talk, and they're attention isnt as valuable as Person A's or Person B's.

Also, you dont need to know *anything* about the musical Hamilton to take the stage in this convo. Just say things that you could say about any musical ever!

I HOPE THESE HELPED, MWWWWAH!!! HAVE A LOVELY DAY ANON, AND HAPPY TRANSITIONING!!! ^w^

[beerok23]

Excerpt from Chapter 6 - The Smithes

“So, you’d rather spend the rest of your life cultivating a platonic friendship with the man who’s most definitely your soulmate?” “If that’s my only option, yes.” Oh, God. Aziraphale really believed this bullshit. Maybe this time Maggie needed a more brazen approach. She closed her eyes and took a deep sigh to muster up the strength she needed for her next words, “Aziraphale Fell, you are a complete IDIOT if you think that Anthony J. Crowley doesn’t love you back. That man has been head over heels for you for five years, honestly, how can you not see? I don’t care how you do it, just TALK TO HIM!” Aziraphale pouted, “Nina’s having a bad influence on you.” “Thank God!” Maggie retorted. “I’m serious, Az. Have you got any idea how many times Crowley has asked me about you at work? ‘Oh, Maggie, does Aziraphale like this book?’ ‘Hey, Mags, do you happen to know if Aziraphale is already planning to go see this play?’ ‘Maggie, can you find me this Shostakovich record for Aziraphale?’ – He’s so obvious, and it infuriates me that you two aren’t together yet!” Aziraphale looked flabbergasted. Oh, so he never knew about this? “But– the other night–” “Forget it, will you?” Maggie raised her voice again. “Have you considered that maybe he was just as embarrassed as you were? As scared as you?” Aziraphale seemed to ponder on her last words for a moment. “Oh, Maggie.” He finally spoke. “I think you might be right. It’s time I stop living in fear and try to be brave. I need to tell him that our friendship isn’t enough for me anymore. That I wish we could have… something more.” Maggie was so taken by her attempt at helping Aziraphale that she got very irritated when people started going back and forth behind them. Someone was going back inside after their cigarette break (right now, Maggie would do literally anything for a hit) while others were getting outside to take their place. “And what about Brown?” Aziraphale snorted, “I have a feeling that Brown already knows that I’m hopelessly devoted to him. I did so little to hide it. It’s time he understands that I love him more than anything in this world.” Once again, Maggie heard the door opening and closing behind them. But she didn’t care anymore, because Aziraphale had just come to the conclusion he should have reached approximately 1800 days before. “Oh my God, this is so exciting I want to cry!” She jumped, her voice all squeaky. “You’re really doing this?” Aziraphale beamed at her, “I am. And you know what? So are you.” Maggie’s good mood changed drastically, “I am what now?” “You’ll tell Nina that you love her. And I know she’ll say it back.” Maggie lost all of her confidence, “Wh-Why are you sure she’ll say it back?” Aziraphale just shrugged, “Because it’s Christmas. And at Christmas you tell the truth.”

Betaed by @hermiola 💛💛💛

TAG LIST @firephoenix2305 @on1occasionfork  @moralsofanalleycatsposts  @captainblou @bellisima-writes @shadesofecclescakes @ineffablerainstorm @pookasluagh @somewhere-in-wales @missunderstoodlyrics

The Grass is Always Greener - Ch. 1

It’s almost Christmas in Whickber Street, a quiet neighborhood in the little town of Tadfield. Mr Brown sees the upcoming holiday as the perfect chance to throw a party to impress Mr Fell, the charming bookseller who lives next door. He must deal with Mr Crowley, though, an annoying astronomer who moved to Tadfield five years prior and became best friends with Mr Fell. Mr Crowley and Mr Fell both secretly wish that their relationship was something more, but they are two idiots, so they keep on pining for each other under the scrutiny of Comma, Crowley’s very insightful cat. ~ A Good Omens Christmas AU ~

A huge shout out to my Beta @hermiola 💛💛💛

For @pookasluagh, @ineffablerainstorm and @somewhere-in-wales

Excerpt from Ch. 1 - Utterly Ridiculous

“It’s the most — wonderful Christmas instalment I’ve ever seen, Crowley.” Mr Brown tried to ignore the fact that his response was coming along with the chorus of Somebody To Love – and was that a blush on Mr Fell’s face? “How did you build this up on your own? I’m pretty sure this wasn’t here yesterday.” Mr Fell looked extremely impressed. And also in awe. How Mr Crowley hadn’t realised that their neighbour was obviously enamoured of his presence was a mystery worthy of being studied. “Oh. Well, uhm. You know. Yeah, mmm, I just… I worked on it last night.” “Sounds like an impossible job for only one person,” Mr Fell noticed. “Not impossible, no. Just… intricate.” “I didn’t picture you as a modern music lover, Mr Fell.” Mr Brown interjected, trying to spark his interest (to no avail), but sparking one of Mr Crowley’s infamous glares, instead. “Oh, well, I’m not a fan of… bebop, per se,” Mr Fell elucidated, immediately thwarting Mr Crowley’s attempt to retort, “But I’ve become quite accustomed to Queen. Sometimes it feels like it’s the only music that Crowley’s car likes playing.” Mr Brown ignored the fact that Mr Fell was talking about an inanimate vintage Bentley as if it were a sentient being. “It’s rock, Aziraphale, for god’s sake!” Mr Crowley immediately moved his tongue in his mouth as if he was trying to deal with the lingering of a very bad taste. “And to be fair… it is a bit loud, my dear.” Oh, Mr Brown would have given an arm to be called that. But he was already sadly and pathetically aware of the fact that the possessive adjective only applied to a scrawny-man-in-black. Another thing that the idiot hadn’t realised yet, apparently. Perfect, now the idiot was smiling that smug smirk of his. Mr Crowley manifested a remote control from a pocket of his far too light jacket (it was December, how could he cope with going around almost undressed?!) and pressed a combination of buttons. The music changed, and Queen gave way to a very soft and mellow piano track. Mr Fell recognised it immediately and put his hands on his cheeks. Brown couldn’t tell if they’d just reddened for the cold or because he was blushing. “Oh, Crowley! It’s Debussy.” Brown witnessed impotent as Mr Fell gawked at Mr Crowley with that look in his eyes. “I asked the project designer to add a second combination to play at night. I didn’t want Freddie’s vocals to keep the whole neighbourhood perpetually awake for a month.” “Debussy’s Clair de lune is my favourite piano piece.” Mr Fell’s hand was metaphorically on his heart, now. “I know,” came Mr Crowley’s bashful answer. Mr Brown sighed in exasperation. You see, one could only stand a certain dose of languid looks of understanding between these two idiots. And when you were forced to witness such knowing looks day after day, after day… Well, let’s just say you would have developed a slight idiosyncrasy towards redheads too.

[all-my-ocs-are-evil]

Grojband, but as a band from an early 2000s shoujo manga

[running-in-the-dark]

I'm still not feeling great. now one side of my face also hurts lol, it's just one thing after another, this body sucks

[hecksupremechips]

Honestly though I think it’s really a bad sign when I look at Shin Tsukimi and literally feel like he’s a self insert 😩

[peapod20001]

Did sleeping help

No </3

[darabeatha]

  /  If ur wondering why the hyperfixation on Jason; the reason is bc it was inevitable

[pummedraws]

The worst part is that when fat people talk about their struggles with fatphobia they're expected to ALWAYS have a disclaimer saying "Body shaming of all kinds is bad uwu even skinny shaming we're all victims of the same caliber of a body shaming society!" Lest they be seen as one of those Mean Fatties who hate skinny people and thus DESERVE to be systemically seen as unhealthy and lazy by society. I shouldn't have to reassure you that, yes, if someone tells you to eat a burger they're being an asshole. because I'm too busy being told I should kill myself for looking like a whale lol

[capitalwildcat]

Kicking winter break off by getting fucking COVID.

Super cool.

[dexaroth]

ive already said this before about how ive felt so disconnected from art. its all just lines and poses and specific distances away from the camera, layers of color... something triggered a switch in my brain that is making things just not feel real anymore.

and its like. ok. whatever. its still fun to draw and i get very happy when i manage to draw something good. but i lack the motivation! so.. lemme think.. ah! my characters! perhaps i should try to actually flesh them out as real people, with a past and personalities and relationships..

and the more i read about it the more disconnected i feel. is that all life is about? traits and backstories and being bound to everything that happened to you.. the ways you think and act being somewhat easily traceable to your history..character arcs. stories just being a means to an end(?)

and i also want a world for my ocs to live in that is a bit believable and justifies them, but every bit of advice and apparently common worldbuilding things have all just been done before.

is there any chance of making something that matters when its all been done before or if everything else feels unreal and abstract. is there a point to anything

[radioactive-earthshine]

Writing tips for long fics that helped me that no one asked for.

1.) Don't actually delete content from your WIP unless it is minor editing - instead cut it and put it in a secondary document. If you're omitting paragraphs of content, dialog, a whole scene you might find a better place for it later and having it readily available can really save time. Sometimes your idea was fantastic, but it just wasn't in the right spot.

2.) Stuck with wording the action? Just write the dialog then revisit it later.

3.) Stuck on the whole scene? Skip it and write the next one.

4.) Write on literally any other color than a white background. It just works. (I use black)

5.) If you have a beta, while they are beta-ing have them read your fic out loud. Yes, I know a lot of betas/writers do not have the luxury of face-timing or have the opportunity to do this due to time constraints etc but reading your fic out loud can catch some very awkward phrasing that otherwise might be missed. If you don't have a beta, you read it out loud to yourself. Throw some passion into your dialog, you might find a better way to word it if it sounds stuffy or weird.

6.) The moment you have an idea, write it down. If you don't have paper or a pen, EMAIL it to yourself or put it in a draft etc etc. I have sent myself dozens of ideas while laying down before sleep that I 10/10 forgot the next morning but had emailed them to myself and got to implement them.

7.) Remember - hits/likes/kudos/comments are not reflective of the quality of your fic or your ability to write. Most people just don't comment - even if they say they do, they don't, even if they preach all day about commenting, they don't, even if they are a very popular blog that passionately reminds people to comment - they don't comment (I know this personally). Even if your fic brought tears to their eyes and it haunted them for weeks and they printed it out and sent it to their friends they just don't comment. You just have to accept it. That being said - comment on the fic you're reading now, just do it, if you're 'shy' and that's why you don't comment the more you comment the better you'll get at it. Just do it.

8.) Remove unrealistic daily word count goals from your routine. I've seen people stress 1500 - 2000 words a day and if they don't reach that they feel like a failure and they get discouraged. This is ridiculous. Write when you can, but remove absurd goals. My average is 500 words a day in combination with a 40 hour a week job and I have written over 200k words from 2022-2023.

9.) There are dozens of ways to do an outline from precise analytical deconstruction that goes scene by scene to the minimalist bullet point list - it doesn't matter which one you use just have some sort of direction. A partial outline is better than no outline.

10.) Write for yourself, not for others. Write the fic you know no one is going to read. Write the fic that sounds ridiculous. You will be so happy you put it out in the world and there will be people who will be glad it exists.